Last night River and I had a bath together in our new tub that comfortably and intentionally seats two. When I came in River told me she hadn’t washed her hoo yet. As usual I think that’s some kind of hint. Maybe she wants to see how long I can hold my breath while I dive her muff underwater. Yes, it’s a hint, but only that I can wash her hoo. It’s usually something I do in the shower, getting a good lather going in her muff, then scooping my fingers down between her legs, through the alleys beside her vulva, in the grooves between her labia minora and majora, delving into the soft ellipse of her pussy, briefly up to her clit, finishing with a sweet rub on her asshole.

Today she’s on full display, leaning back on the end of the tub, her feet up on the edges. I soap up her bush, working up the lather. My hand slides down over her vulva, my fingers opposite to their usual orientation. And it’s amazing. The overarching slipperiness, her lips straining and squishing between my fingers, her vagina winking open without shyness as I pull downwards, the vast expanse of female flesh to behold. It’s bigger than life. How could I begin to satisfy such a thing with my tongue, or even with my fully erect cock?


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