That must be one dirty, dirty ass, given how much soap she is using on it. The sad thing is that all I want to do is make it even dirtier.

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Oh, don't look so coy: you left the bathroom door unlocked on purpose, just so you can show off your boobs and offer me a blowjob. I'm almost offended. Almost. I mean, you went through so much work to make this happen, it'd be rude to decline. Just give me a second to take my pants off...

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Hey, there, Emily - why are you sitting on that end of the tub? You're going to hit your head on the tap, that that won't feel very good. Here, come sit on this end of the tub with me. You might not think there's enough room, but you're more than welcome to sit on my lap. I think you'll enjoy it, too.

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I'm starting to upload content over at the revamped Peek-A-Boob site, and a while back Gracie bought a crate of old Easyriders magazines. Fipping through the fun user-submitted content (boy, bikers loved the swastika in the 70s, didn't they?) I found this lovely lady enjoying a sexy bubble bath. That hair must've made her hot shit at the time.

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The edge of the marble tub of the newlywed suite was cold under my naked ass, while the hot water flowed between my toes. We had asked for the newlywed suite despite only having known each other for three days, but it sounded like fun. As the soap suds clung to the soft skin of her tits, I knew I would do to her all kinda of nasty things that innumerable newlyweds have done to each other in this bath.

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Her piercing eyes said, "come closer, you're much too far away for me to suck your cock."

Those eyes know just what I want to hear.

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Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize there were two - oh, I'm still invited? Well, I'm not sure where I would fit. My, how gracious of you ladies: you seem to have plenty of places for me to "fit". How considerate!

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I always laugh that her bathroom looks like a diner, all red and white, but when she invited me in to "eat out" - after I wash my hands, of course - I couldn't help but peruse the menu a little closer.

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She's only washing from the neck down, because the soap might strip out some of the color from her hair. She knows how much I like fucking cartoon characters, so it needs to stay orange as long as possible.

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Here, it's the first time I've heard of such a thing: today is Bathtub Party Day, and I didn't have anything planned. No matter: Coed Magazine has compiled a whole bunch of sexy bubble bath pics, so I can at least pretend. Most are the same photosets I've posted here. Of course, the redhead in their title picture is the one I want to see more of - and it's not included in the actual gallery. Way to go, Coed.

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She poked her toes up out of the bubbles, her cute toenail polish glistening in the wetness. "You already had your bath today, you'll get all wrinkly," she laughed. I was already half undressed by then, and she smiled as the most important part of this bath got less and less wrinkly as it got harder. She sat up in the tub to leave me room, and said, "you know, we're both going to get wrinkly if this is where this bath is going..."

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She sat up from the bath when she heard the door open. Her hands covered her nipples, lest the wrong person see them -- it was only me, so I suggested she uncover those. "Not until you come a bit closer," she said. I took two steps,and she shook her head. Two steps closer...

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Lili wore her turquoise swimsuit because she was warned she would be getting wet. When she saw there was a bubble bath instead of a pool, she still hopped in. It turns out, his idea of "get wet" was more focused at her panties...and a few minutes later, he succeeded:

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The wet turquoise shirt clung to her breasts, which bounced intriguingly as she laughed. She managed to get her jeans off before jumping in the tub, but she couldn't help herself. I, however, don't get that far before I'm in the tub, too. Her shirt is off, soapy breasts pressing into my chest, as I feel her hands fiddling with my fly under the surface of the water. "These need to come off," she says:

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Sure, that look means she knows my reason for being in the bathroom while she soaks is a lame, contrived excuse. The clown suit, the bucket of vanilla ice cream, and three feet of Bubble Tape are - for all intents and purposes - the only reason she hasn't kicked me out:

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Oh, honey, don't give me that coy look - you know as well as I do there's no accident that I "accidentally" walked into this bathroom, "accidentally" locked the door behind me, and "accidentally" had my clothes fall off mysteriously. There's no reason to fool ourselves at the moment about what's going to happen next, because that warm bath looks awful comfy and you sure could use somebody to wash your back.

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Her soaking hair stuck to the sides of her face, long enough to drape onto her massive, glistening breasts, rivulets of water running from the tips of the tresses. The bubbles slowly slid down her body, revealing the curve of her clevage, the darker skin of her erect nipples, the smooth flesh around her navel. "What are you looking at? Just get in - you look cold," she says, sliding back to make room in the steaming water for one lucky guest.

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