The end of the day had finally arrived. Returning home was a blessing,  work had been hectic, and you were ready to relax. 

Fumbling for your keys you approached your house and found a note taped to the door.  A bit bleary-eyed you read the note,  “Welcome home. Come in, grab a glass of wine, and enjoy the hit shower that’s been started for you.” The hand written note was a nice touch,  something your husband hadn’t done in years,  except for the occasional ‘special occasion’ card.  The writing looked a bit off,  but being as tired as you were you overlooked it and entered your house.

All of the lights were off,  save for a small counter light in the kitchen. You could hear the faint running if water – indeed a shower was awaiting you. Your body ached at the thought if having the hot water ease your thickness away.  As you approached the kitchen you noticed a sterling silver basin with a wine bottle stick out the top. Condensation was forming on the intricate bucket which meant the wine would be crisp, but not cold.  Your taste buds began to awake,  a midnight treat was exactly what you needed.  Next to the bucket was a wine glass and a single rose. 

It wasn’t initial for your husband to get you an arrangement of flowers every now and then,  but a single rose was highly or if the norm.  But rather than be alarmed by it, intrigue set in, what was he up to you wondered.  Had he finally accepted that he could no longer be vanilla? Maybe. It would be the start if something new.  A chance for the two of you to rekindle your passions for one another.  Picking up the rose you brought the soft petals to your lips,  giving them a slight tickle as you twirled the stem between your fingers.  The deep aroma caused your eyes to close and stirred that once familiar feeling deep inside. Was a long tease in the works?

 You set the rose down and pour yourself a glad of fine red wine. The dark velvet liquor fills your glass, it its aroma is intoxicating and its appearance is that of liquid silk. It’s ever so smooth as you take that first sip. Your lips quiver. The flavor erupts on your tongue. It’s bold, yet seductive, with a clean finish. Ta second and third sip tease you further. You sensation is arousing, and you can feel your nipples begin to peak as the press against your satin bra. Desiring more you take a long dreg from the glass, dowing nature’s nectar in a gulp or two.

This is what you needed, you think, as you pour a second glass. As you move to unbutton your blouse your head swims causing you to catch yourself on the counter.  This is some strong wine.  Learning against the counter you lean back, your breasts stretching the  fabric of your blouse neatly to its limits.  The hot shower was calling your name,  but you needed a second to regain your footing.  The wine was already getting to you.  Your nipples were hard and you could feel a growing wetness between your thighs.  What was in this drink you wondered.  You picked up the rose once more and smiled. Had your husband really gone to all this trouble? The wine. The rose. The shower. It was such a sweet gesture. Even if the sex was a little vanilla,  he definitely earned a reward for setting this up.

A smile crept across your lips once again as you thought about ways to spice up your sex life, just little things here and there. As your mind wandered so did the rose.  It started its journey on your cheek, and began to follow an invisible trail down your neck. The gentle touch of the petals sent a small. Dover down your spine, and a longing moan of pleasure escapes your lips.  Your free hand pulls your blouse apart further,  exposing your chest further,  the rise finding its way to your bosom. The thrill of having real sex once more was so enticing. Forget the shower, just skip to  the sex,  you thought.  But the lingering caress of the rose took you away from the house, into a space all your own.

The rose could touch your lips like only a rose  could.  Sweet,  gentle, just an ever so shifty brush against your pouting lips.  The rise could only caress your skin the way you needed. Slow,  comforting,  lingering in places that excited you (places your husband somehow avoided all these years). The rise new how to tease your nipples,  even through the fabric. It began by sliding between your breasts,  slowly moving down until its petals brushed the bottoms of your breasts.  It swept over one side,  teasing the nipple with a dozen light touches of its petals. Circling the bra clad tit. The rise then moved to tease the other breast. It repeated brushing ever so gently across and around the tit. It then traversed your toned torso and lovingly caressed your thighs, gracing ever closer to the magical space between. 

Had your hand not slipped off the counter,  jolting you out if your dreamlike state, the rise may have claimed you as its own. 

Regaining your composure once again you took another sip of wine deciding that the shower had waited long enough.  It was a little surprising that your husband hadn’t broken the moment wondering why it was taking you so long.  Grabbing the bottle you went to investigate what was going on.  By the time your sultry steps reached the bedroom you’d drained the second glass.  Upon the door was another note. Ripping it down harder than you indeed you brought the note in closer,  as there light here was very dim. “Get into the shower and I’ll join you shortly. “ the instructions were simple. Not very sexy, but you figured he had something more in store. 

Your blouse fell to the floor as the last button was undone, followed by your pencil shirt. The stockings you write would take a bit more effort to remove,  but your bra feel too floor furthest inside the bedroom,  and you stopped just short if ther bathroom door and shimmied of a Lacey pair of panties. You took a moment to check over your shoulder,  the bed was still made, and there was no sign your husband wad within. Standing there naked with wine in hand you tousled your hair and opened the bathroom door.

Softy flickering light should form behind a billowing wave if hot steamy air.  The meniscal water particles dotted your beautifully shaped body, setting off, on their own insignificant, but together a as they resolved sent a pleasing shockwave over your body, drawing you eagerly into the unknown.

It was difficult to see if your husband was waiting inside. The water must have been running for quite a while to make it this hazy. Hopefully the there was still time to get that relaxing shower before the aging water heater kicked out.

You timidly approached the shower stall, the newest addition to your home: an open shower with a glass partition to keep the water from spreading onto the floor. It was otherwise a natural wall made light rough stone, and the floor was also natural, darker than the walls, and also rough, to prevent slipping.