Breaking Point: A Steamy Billionaire Romance by BAKER J.B

Author:BAKER, J.B. [BAKER, J.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: J.B. BAKER
Publisher: J.B. BAKER
Published: 2017-12-16T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

RACHEL

With my legs spread a little, I shave my lathered sex above the waterline in the bath. I don’t know why I decided to do this tonight of all nights. I for sure have more important things on my mind than personal grooming of the more intimate areas. I just somehow feel different. Something has happened to me that I can’t quite fathom. The lower I get, the better it felt. I can’t wait to have a look at myself in the small portable mirror once I’m finished.

“Mm, I look much better.”

I giggle. It looks like a vanilla macaroon down there. I run my fingers over my sex. I can’t remember the last time it felt so sensitive. Small pleasurable shivers eddy up my spine. With a sigh of relief, I slide into the hot water in the bath again.

With each passing second, I feel the itch between my legs grow with intensity. I can’t remember the last time I touched myself. There had never been the time, let alone the desire. Many things are different tonight. It is as if I recently rediscovered the art of living.

Before I know it, I run my right hand down my abdomen. I spend a few seconds circling my belly button that is only slightly above the foamy and bubbly waterline in the bath. My other hand cups my full and weighty breast. In an instant, the small circular area of pink skin surrounding my nipple pulls together. The areola of my ignored right breast tenses in imitation of the other. Alternating between my tits, I start to finger, rub and tweak my nipples that are as hard as pebbles.

Instinctively, my other hand slips below the soapy waterline, reaching the new silky area above my clit. In seconds, my right forefinger touches the clitoris lightly.

“Jesus, that feels good.”

With my eyes shut, I gradually start to circle the small bud that had been forgotten for so long. It takes me a while to find a rhythm that suits me. In seconds, the touch of my forefinger, the rubbing of my breasts and the warmth of the lathered water has her mewing mellifluously.

I release the nipple I have been circling with my left hand, and with languid intent, it makes its way from my tit to my navel. I press on my abdomen, while my other hand still flicks and tugs on my clit.

“Oh, my goodness! It can’t be.”

I’m imagining a man doing this to me. I can feel him pressing on my belly, while he pleasures me between my legs – I moan cavernously.

Removing the flat of my hand from my midriff, it continues to slide lower until it too, in imitation of the right hand before it, touches the silky and meticulously trimmed area of my pelvis. As if it has a mind of its own, one finger on my left hand enters, pretending to be a penis. I try to remember what it feels like to have a penis inside of me.

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