Rub-A-Dub-Dub

True to his word, Grant showed up the next evening after dinner to help Holly plant the seedlings he had brought over the night before. While he was in the guest bedroom getting undressed, Matt started putting on his clothes.

"Going somewhere?" Holly asked, confused. Lately Matt had spent all his time at home in the nude, so seeing him getting dressed was unusual.

"I thought I would give you and Grant some space to . . . dig around in the dirt," he winked at her.

"You're going over to see Irene," Holly grinned back at him.

"Bingo!" Matt replied. His wife never ceased to amaze him. Half the time she knew what he was up to before he did.

"Something wrong?" Grant asked when he walked out of the guest bedroom naked and saw that Matt was wearing clothes.

"Not at all," Holly assured Grant, reaching for his hand to lead him out into the garden. "Something unexpected just came up." Then she chuckled. "Or maybe not so unexpected."

When Irene answered the door, she seemed surprised but pleased to see Matt. Irene had on a cut-off tee-shirt and a pair of thin panties. And she was soaking wet. Water was puddling around her on the hardwood floor of the entrance foyer as she stood there smiling up at him.

"Come in!" she exclaimed happily. "You just missed Grant. He is heading over to your house to help Holly with the planting." She giggled mischievously. "He's probably hoping to fertilize it."

"Yes, I know," Matt replied as he stepped inside. "I saw him before I left." He looked at the redhead and asked, "Why are you all wet?"

"Oh, this," she looked down at her wet form. She may as well been nude the way the water made her attire transparent. "There's a local bar that has a wet tee-shirt contest every Friday night during the summer and I'm trying to decide whether I should enter or not. Come on . . . I'll show you."

But after taking two steps, she suddenly stopped. "Where are my manners? What would you like to drink? And," she pointed to a door down the hall, "You can get undressed in there."

He laughed. "I didn't come over here just so I could walk around naked in front of you."

"No?" she asked, making a pouting face with her lower lip protruding.

"Alright, alright," he pretended to be hesitant as he started unbuttoning his shirt and heading down the hall. "I'll take a beer."

By the time he returned to the living room, there was an open bottle of Bud Light on the coffee table but no Irene. Calling out her name, he heard her voice coming from down the hall. "I'm in here!"

Following the sound of her voice, he found her lolling around in the bathtub. "See what I mean?" she asked, gesturing to her chest. "I am o.k. in the ass department, but not much when it comes to the boobs."

Silently, Matt had to agree with her assessment. Irene had a fine ass. A big ass. But topside . . . She was somewhat lacking. Practically flat-chested.

"Yeah, but a large part of that sort of contest is in the presentation," he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. "You know, the dancing and gyrating. I've never seen a white girl who can twerk better than you."

"Aw, you're just saying that because of the way I treat your dick," she teased.

Neither said anything for several minutes, they just took pleasure in looking at each other's exposed bodies. Then suddenly Irene announced. "You know, I'm thinking about enrolling in a painting class. You ought to look into it."

"I'm not much when it comes to drawing and such," he replied, taking a swig of his beer.

"Not as a student," she explained. "As a model. It's a 'life drawing' class. You know," her eyes twinkled, "Naked bodies. You should volunteer as a model."

Matt laughed at that suggestion. But then, his face got serious as he considered what she was saying.

"You've got a decent body," she told him, crossing her forearms on the edge of the tub and resting her chin on them. "And a really nice cock. You'd be great."

He nodded. Maybe it wasn't such a crazy idea.

In a low, seductive voice, the saucy redhead asked, "Want me to stroke it down for you?"

Matt looked down at his crotch, as if surprised to see that he was sprouting a boner. Although he had been hard ever since Irene had first open the door.

"I thought you would never ask," he chuckled, standing up and stepping closer to the bathtub. The redhead reached out with both hands, grabbing his erection in an overlapping double-handed grip. This time she wouldn't have to worry about getting cum on her clothes. After he had shot his load out onto her chest, all she had to do was to dunk back down in the water and rinse it off.

Matt watched the way Irene's little titties bounced as she knelt there in the tub, tugging on his turgid tallywacker. He was sorely tempted to grab the back of Irene's head and pull her towards him. He was certain that she would open her mouth and suck him. But. . . But, he and Holly had an agreement, so he **** himself to be satisfied with a handjob. Although perhaps one day he should try to renegotiate the contract.

In just a matter of minutes he felt himself on the edge, so he warned her. "Oh, I'm gonna cum, baby," he told her, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady himself. Later he would ask himself where the 'baby' came from. But then again, it was normal to develop some degree of emotional feelings for a female who routinely brought one to an orgasm.

Irene nodded up at him in acknowledgement, pumping away even faster. She squealed happily when that first jet of sperm struck her across the chest. But the second and third hit her in the face. She gasped at her bad aim, but she kept stroking, helping him through the rest of his ejaculation.

After he was empty and had stumbled back to plop down on the closed lid of the toilet seat once more, he apologized to her. "Sorry about the facial."

"Not your fault," she laughed and dipped her hand into the water to rinse off her face. "I was the one steering."