I'll Take It Black - "Rub a Dub Dub in My Dirty Tub?"

February 19, 2020

 

 

He wanted to take a bath. A scepticism I already hold with people I’m actively dating and therefore aware of their overall cleanliness and living space, but def a no go for a first hang. No fuuucking way. I didn’t say this to him obviously, as it sounded snobbish and let’s be honest, downright cunty. Instead, I declined like a civilized human being by making up an excuse, obviously. It was something along the lines of, “I have plans after” or some equally believable bullshit. Either way, I was in the clear. 

 

Jump to me being at his house. We hang, he eats me out, then almost full on fists me. It’s chill and afterwards, like most human women, or people for real, I had to pee. I ask where the bathroom is and he says in my bedroom to the left. Cooool. I head in, thinking nothing of it. I’m just trying to get this built up squirt out or whatever. Then I see it in it’s true glory. The fucking bathtub… 

 

“Duuuuude, what the fuuuuck?!” was my actual internal thought. I might’ve even whispered it, for real. Before I jump all in, let me start by saying, I’m no clean freak. Like, a bitch can be kinda dirty and that’s me. I am bitch. But this was next level. Not only was the perimeter (for those who don’t know what that means, the surrounding outside) a disgusting blacking brown color. This same color extended into the tub itself. My brain was exploding. He expected me to sit in this?! With my naked body. Absolutely not. Fuck no.

 

Confused by the tub, I went to sit on the toilet, by which time I had forgotten about his warning that the toilet seat was not screwed on. I thought he meant a little, apparently he meant AT ALL. It slides to the right, my body slid with it. Thankfully I caught myself, less out of reflex and more out of fear that my body would touch a different, equally gross surface in the bathroom I had yet to discover. 

 

Thankful to have seen this at the end, I gathered my clothes and departed like the non-judge mental woman he perceived me to be. But boy was I judging. He was handsome, nice and covered in tattoos so essentially the exact type of dude I wanted to fuck. Which leads me to my next decision… write the tub off. Consider it a fluke, an accident, a forgotten nuisance, you know? He’s a guy, sometimes they’re dirty, he probably wasn’t thinking. Or maybe, like his toilet, it was also a work in progress. My plan was don’t ask, he won’t tell. Nor did I care.

 

After hanging out another time or two we took a break. Not intentionally, per say, but in the “I’m mad busy, catch me when you can” type way. Safe to say, neither of us was catching the other. Then one day, on the random, he hit me with a text saying he’d be dog sitting at a spot right by my place for a full 10 days. I was thrilled! I thought about his fist in my pussy and the potential of maybe, finally, procuring his dick. A treasure I had yet to unbury. As if the location itself wasn’t a sell, his follow up with them having a jacuzzi. The obvious cherry on top. 

 

When the day finally came, I skipped happily over. Wine in one hand and the other left open so I could use it to pet the neighborhood cats. I was thrilled and considering it was the end of summer, I was hyped on the hot tub. The house was amazinggg. Huge and marvelously decorated, at least in the rooms I was honored enough to see. Rather quickly he asked if I wanted to get in the jacuzzi to which I immediately agreed. He said it was floor level, something I’d only seen when attached to a pool.

 

He began leading me upstairs and obviously, as I’m sure you were while reading it, I was confused. Up the stairs we went into the bathroom, where lied the jacuzzi… tub. The panic began rising instantly, afraid to back out and hurt his feelings but equally afraid to climb into a stranger's tub. Given, it was much cleaner than his, but that was beside the point. As it filled with water I took deep breaths, reminding myself what I enjoyed about our sexual encounters and that it’d be okay. That I’d be okay. 

 

When it was finally full he waved me over to the tub, indicating it was ready to be climbed into. Oh, joy. Slowly but surely, I followed suit. Tipping one foot in until it became a leg and then a leg became a pussy and a torso and tits and all of that, until my full body was in the tub. It wasn’t long after he climbed in that we began fooling around. He grabbed a tit, I grabbed his dick and as one thing led to another, he found his way in my mouth. I was crouched in the tub and he was slanted, slightly pressed up on the edge. I was sucking his dick when I felt it, the miscellaneous bar of soap. Tap, tap, tapping and my foot, then my thigh, then near my lady parts.

 

My internal voice began screaming and not in the cute, fun way. But instead, in a blood curdling fashion. One you would hear from an infant or a person being brutally murdered. I jumped up, a signal which he read far different than intended. “I can move”, he said, repositioning himself on the bathroom floor, while naked, I should mention. “Okay, babygirl, you got this, it’s okay”, I began repeating as I lowered my face to suck his dick. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was everything else. It was the floor and the tub and his naked, wet body touching both. Quickly I climbed out, drying myself off and getting dressed at a much more rapid pace than intended.

 

“Are you good”, he asked. I couldn’t tell if he meant personally or sexually. I’m not sure he knew either. “Yeahhh..” I replied, in a drawn out and unsure fashion. We sat on the couch and watched a show. It had Louie C.K. in it, which despite everything made me a little happy. I could tell he was judging. Mind you, he put it on, but nonetheless. It didn’t take long for me to bid my farewell and slide out the door like a mistress of the night. I wish I could say this wasn’t the last time we’d hang or that I was mature enough to tell him the truth but, unshockingly, I wasn’t. 

Moral of the story, don’t be pathetic and just vocalize it if you’re uncomfortable. Be it with a person in general or a dirty bathtub. There’s nothing wrong with setting your standards and in turn, evading a lot of uncomfortable interactions. 

& to the guy whom I bathed with, I’m sorry if you’re reading this. You’re very nice and fun to be around but please, for future reference, clean the tub before inviting a lady into it.

 

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