Mirielle’s Apartment

Mirielle kept a fairly nice apartment on the fourteenth floor of a building not too far from the Hearst Building, often walking to work in the morning instead of driving.

Parking her car in the underground garage, she took the elevator back up to her floor and leisurely walked to her apartment.

It had been a long and tiring day, though exhilarating beyond imagination. The thought of a nice long hot bath brought a smile to her face. Entering the apartment, she clicked on the light and stepped into the kitchen area, setting her purse on the counter as she passed through into the dining room.

Pausing near the table, she looked down her body. “How are you doing Michael?” she asked, the question rhetorical as she knew he couldn’t hear her. Unfastening the button on her jeans, she wiggled her hips and slid them off. Next, she hook her fingers into the elastic of her soiled panties and pulled them down before parting her legs and opening the outer lips of her vagina to reveal her prize still held firmly.

He coughed and sputtered, feebly raising an arm. He had been stuck inside her for hours, marinating in the fluids of her climax.

Shaking her head, a look of chagrin on her face, “You are positively funky,” she said, taking his left arm between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and gently tugging him free of the flesh holding him tight.

Lying near the edge of the table, his lower two thirds appeared ghastly pale and wrinkled. “Are you going to call Lucie?” he croaked, rolling onto his side to better face her.

She nodded, “Tomorrow. It’s getting late tonight,” she answered with a smile.

He shook his head, eyes welling, “You’re teasing me,” he accused, lower lip trembling as he brought his hands to cover his face.

“No, I will call tomorrow, I promise,” she assured.

“Really?” he asked hopefully, lowering his hands from his face and trying to push himself up.

She nodded. “But I think right now, we both could benefit from a bath,” she suggested.

“Okay,” he said, now on his feet, though his balance was a little unsteady.

Careful,” she warned, “I don’t want you to fall off the table.”

Shaking his head, he edged back away and sat down.

Picking up her discarded clothing, she sauntered half naked through the living room and down the hall toward the bathroom, where she removed the remainder of her clothes and deposited them in the hamper. Bending at the waist and turning on the faucet for the tub, she tested the water’s temperature before putting in a small spoonful of natural mineral salts.

Straightening, she lingered a moment as she passed the mirror, not yet steamed over. Reaching up, she corralled her reddish tinged golden hair and held it behind her head, an appreciative smile as she examined her gorgeous reflection. Her stomach made a small noise and she realized she was actually hungry.

Leaving the bathroom, she returned down the hall.

Michael watched her as she walked, shaking his head, she was an absolute goddess, her body moving with a natural sensual grace as she returned to the table.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, looking down at him.

He nodded mutely.

“Okay,” she replied, moving back into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator, the cool air within bringing goosebumps to her bared flesh.

Taking out the fruit medley in the small clear plastic container, she closed the fridge and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. At the table she pried the lid off and set it down, taking a couple of the smaller pieces of fruit and dropping them on the lid. She also took a couple of the larger pieces of strawberry for herself, eating them as she returned to the bathroom to check on the water.

Sitting down on the edge of the tub, she ran her hand through the water, steam rising up off the surface as she did so. Plopping the last piece of fruit in her mouth, she turned off the tap and went to get Michael, who was wrestling with a large blueberry almost the size of his head.

Letting him take a couple more bites, she picked him up and carried him back to the bathroom, placing him on the flat edge of the tub and stepping over him. Slipping into the water, she closed her eyes and letting out a contented sigh as the warmth embraced her.

”That feels absolutely amazing,” she murmured, her muscles relaxing in the soothing bath.

Allowing herself to slide down, she submerged her head before pushing herself back up and smoothing her hair back. Head and shoulders above water, the crowns of her buoyant breasts also breeched the surface.

Smiling, she glanced over at Michael. “Can you swim?” she asked.

Looking at the water then back to her, he nodded.

“Well come on then,” she encouraged, beckoning him with a hand.

Michael dove in head first. Surfacing, he swam slowly toward her, aching muscles protesting and rapidly becoming exhausted.

Coming up between her bosoms, resting his left hand against the slope of her right breast to catch his breath.

“Those girls really put you through the ringer,” she commented, watching him.

He nodded, pushing himself forward between her cleavage and collapsing onto her chest.

“Well once we call Lucie, hopefully she’ll be able to restore you to your former size,” she said.

He nodded.

“Do you know what you will do once you’re fixed?” she asked, moving her hand under the water and creating little waves that lapped against her chest.

“Make amends,” he said faintly. What he really wanted was vengeance. Make the girls tiny and see how they liked being used, but he didn’t dare say anything to Mirielle. He had plans for her too.

Together, they spent the next half hour in the tub, she washing him before cleaning herself. Done, she luxuriated in the milky cooling water another few minutes before setting him back on the edge and standing up. Like a gigantic Aphrodite rising from the waves, water spilled from her lovely body as she stepped out of the tub and dried herself.

The coy smile on her face told him, their night was now only just beginning.