The old bathroom needed a lot of work. Hell, the entire house was sorely lacking, but they tackled the bathroom first. It was a large room, and they had plenty of options.
The first thing they did was move the old bath. The heavy iron tub had been concealed behind panels in the Seventies, and they tore the somewhat shabby boards off with some enjoyment, attacking the joinery with crowbars and hammers, laughing as the weapons ploughed holes in the panels and freed the bath.
A plumber assisted with disconnection of the water, both in and out, and then the two of them lifted the tub from its long accustomed position, and placed it carefully in the middle of the black and white slate checkerboard floor. The rubbish was cleared from the corner of the room where the bath had stood, ready for the new glass and stainless steel shower fixture.
The tub was even used unceremoniously to hold the rubbish until it could be cleared out. But when the panels, the nails, and the dusty old plumbing fixtures were disposed of, the bath stayed where it was.
Laura had been happy enough to remove it initially, and desperately wanted to feel that she had something clean and new in the bathroom, but once they had committed themselves to the project she no longer wanted to actually throw the tub out. So there it sat.
The rest of the bathroom was updated, with classy fixtures that respected the age and style of the house. The plumbing was upgraded; newly efficient water heating installed; a toilet put, somewhat out of keeping, in the corner. A final clean was undertaken in preparation for use. Curtains, ornaments and containers in a subtle and coordinated blue completed the room.
Still the bathtub remained. Isolated from both the water pipes and the drains, it wasn't of much use, other than as somewhere to throw dirty towels. Cleaned and polished though, the tub looked good, sitting solidly on four steel claw feet, black on the outside, and polished porcelain white on the inside. It didn't look remotely new, but its scars looking interesting, as though it had stories to tell. It still sat where they had initially dropped it, askew but somehow correct, in the middle of the large floor, its black-and-whiteness something of a hippie cousin to the checkerboard tiles it sat upon.
When the door creaked open, Laura reflexively closed her knees, and tried to hide her breasts, somewhat unsuccessfully, behind them. When she saw it was Doyle she relaxed, lifting her shoulders and letting her knees fall to the sides of the tub. It must have been quite a sight. Her pale freckled skin had parted to reveal a familiar but nonetheless intimate flash of pink as she grinned at her husband.
Doyle stood silently in the doorway, a smile on his face. As he watched Laura sitting in the old tub, completely naked, she reached down between her knees, just beyond where Doyle could see, and lifted her hand with something in it. Doyle had to move closer to see what was going on.
Laura was sitting as she might have done had the tub been in normal use. Her back rested against the steeply curving end of the bath, her elbows hanging over the sides, her legs pulled up so that her feet were near her butt, and her knees, as I said, resting against the sides of the tub.
Between her knees on the floor of the bath sat a round transparent plastic container with the lid carelessly thrown beside it. The container was half filled with jelly beans, and the rest of the almost-flat bottom of the bath was also littered with beans; all the colours of the rainbow, stark against the white porcelain.
As Doyle watched, Laura grinned at him, picked up a few more of the jelly beans from the container, peered intently at the other end of the tub, squinted her green eyes beneath ginger brows, held her tongue haphazardly between her lips, and threw the first of the sweets.
The jelly bean flew nicely through the air to somewhere near the plug hole, then bounced loudly on the surface of the bath just once before rolling toward the centre of the tub and coming to rest among its scattered peers.
"Shit," Laura giggled, and threw another one.
"Exactly what," Doyle asked, walking closer again, "are you doing?"
"I was tired."
"Bed, dear. When you're tired, you go to bed."
"No, but... Oh, don't look so worried. I was hot, and tired, and just needed to get out of the house. And I couldn't, because what if the kids woke up? So..." She stopped there, leaned to the side and picked up an empty wine glass from the floor. "I poured a glass of wine, stole that box of jelly beans from the cupboard, and..." She leaned the other way then, and picked up a book. "I grabbed my novel from the bedroom and looked for somewhere cool to sit."
"In the bath."
"It's a good thing I already knew you were insane when I moved in."
"Oh, come on, Doyle. You'd do..."
"I would not."
"Then tell me, my lovely wife, why are you stark naked? Not that I'm complaining, you understand."
"I said already, it's hot."
"Okay, so you brought your book and your wine, took off all your clothes and sat in the old bathtub to keep cool, right?"
"So why," he asked, grinning familiarly at his crazy wife, "would the jelly beans be scattered over the bottom of the bathtub, for all the world like seeds thrown over the garden to germinate?"
"Oh, I can't tell you."
"You can't, or you won't?"
"Okay, I won't." She waggled her glass at him, and did her best to look stern. She failed. "Unless, of course, you'd like to fill this."
"You're bribing me?"
"Doyle, call it whatever you want. I'm naked in the bathtub. I don't have a whole lot of leverage."
"Hand it over."
"Stop ogling my breasts."
"Well then, move the glass."
Doyle took the wineglass, and shaking his head as much in amusement as confusion he left the room, turning once at the door for a glimpse of his obviously certifiable, but nonetheless gorgeous wife.
He was back in five minutes.
He opened the door first, and peered through. Laura was reading. She looked up at him and put the book down.
"I thought you were... you know... doing something with jelly beans?"
"I didn't want to run out before you got back. Why are you standing like that?"
"I'm shy." Only his head and shoulders were visible from where Laura sat.
"I don't believe you, and where's your shirt?"
"Bedroom," he said, as he opened the door properly.
His left hand was holding a fresh glass of wine for Laura, and a paperback novel was tucked under his arm. That was all he had, and Laura paid more attention, putting her book down on the floor again.
Doyle was not a physical guy, and he never went to the gym, but somehow he still managed to maintain something of a physique, and Laura always liked to watch him move.
His skin was firm without being sculpted, a sun-resistant olive tone of the sort that sensitive redheads like Laura dreamed. She rather liked the rest of him too. His broad shoulders held a largely hairless chest and slim stomach. Just beneath his navel a slowly spreading thatch of dark hair started, the colour of the short hair on his head, but a whole different texture.
From the thickest part of the hair protruded his cock. It was relaxed still, large and heavy, deliciously soft now, though she was familiar with, and grateful for the state it could so easily reach. She loved the way it looked, and the way it behaved.
"Oh," he said as he walked toward the bath. "Who's ogling now?"
"I'm a snake charmer."
"Is it working?"
"Not yet. But I bet I can make it do some tricks."
"You have the best ideas."
"Says a naked man with wine?"
"Yeah, yeah. You need anything else from out there?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I've checked the kids, turned off the lights and locked the doors..." He stopped then, shaking his head, and then turned back towards the door. "Nothing?"
He pressed the button to lock the bathroom door. "That's better."
"We need the door locked, or you just wanted to treat me to a view of your ass?"
Doyle turned his head back to her, grinned, and wiggled his butt. "Both." Laura laughed some more and he turned back to the tub. He waved the full wine glass carefully at her. "Listen, you want this, or will you wriggle forward first?"
"Why do I need to move?"
"I want to take a bath."
"Of course with you, wench."
"Well then," she responded, shuffling her body forward a little in the tub. "You're wrong."
"Uh huh," he said, handing her the glass. "Why is that?"
"Thank you. Because, dear husband, you have the best ideas. What's with the book?"
"I might get bored."
"Yeah, yeah." He leaned down and kissed Laura on the lips, dropped the book to the floor next to hers, and climbed into the tub behind her. She noticed that his cock, while not hard, wasn't nearly so relaxed as when he walked in. "Pull your knees in for a second, would you?" With a little more effort, he was sitting behind her in the empty tub, his hands around Laura's waist, her butt against his cock, her back leaning against his chest. "So, how about an explanation?"
"The jelly beans of course, woman."
"Oh, yeah. Let me have a sip of this first. Stop moving."
"You're going to spill it?"
"No, you're just distracting me."
"So, I brought the JB's to eat."
"Yes, I know. But that's not an explanation."
.... There is more of this story ...