Clean and Refocused (by WL Husband)

Clean and Refocused

Author: WL Husband

A newly promoted manager was supposed to have been the lead on a project at work but …. well it did not really matter why, the project was now his.  By going to work early and staying late for the past two weeks, the project was now on schedule, but he was exhausted.  He had called home to let his wife know that, once again, he would be coming home later than normal.  She said that she understood but that she expected him home by 6:30 pm and that she would keep their dinner so that they could eat at 7.   They both knew that without these expectations, he would have stayed at work until who knows when but accomplished little with all of the extra time.  

Walking into the house, he took off his shoes and then went and put his briefcase in their office.  Like most things of value in his life, the briefcase had been a gift from his wife.  They had been dating for about six months when she gave it to him. He had just graduated college and he had just accepted his first ‘professional’ job. They went to one of their favorite restaurants to celebrate. She had been disappointed that she had not been able to sneak it into the restaurant as a surprise, so she gave it to him as they sat in the car.  Three months later, he had been successful in surprising her in the same restaurant with a much smaller case, but that case had only been large enough to hold a diamond ring.  Even though he tried to take good care of the briefcase, it was easy to see that the initial exchange of gifts had been almost forty years ago. 

“That smells good.” He said as he walked into the kitchen.  There was a brief period of time in the evolution of their marriage relationship when he had tried to do at least some of the cooking.  He had turned in his chef’s hat just after she said “I like it better when I cook”. He no longer wore the hat but he still found multiple opportunities to wear the matching apron.

“Thank you.” She replied as he walked up behind her and kissed her gently on the side of her neck.  “Spaghetti and meatballs.  It will be ready by 7.”

She turned toward him so that she could give him a quick hug and kiss. She could see his exhaustion and knew that he would be struggling with shifting his thoughts from work, to home and to her.  

“You have time to take a nice hot shower before we eat.” She said as she placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gently turned him toward the bathroom.

Understanding that this was not a suggestion, he went first to their bedroom and picked out fresh clothes to wear to dinner.  

The bathroom had been remodeled shortly after their youngest child had moved away and into his own apartment.  They had sacrificed a small, unneeded, bedroom to create room for a larger shower, primarily for him, and a soaking tub, solely for her.  The tub and surrounding furniture made a peaceful sanctuary that she had often wanted when the kids where little, but never had. She had had him use the tub once.  He had hated using it.  She would now threaten him with having to “take baths for a month” when she thought he needed to make some correction.  “I think she is just joking” he mumbled out loud even though she had once made him take baths for a week.  

The bathroom project had been the source for another change in a dynamic in their relationship.  To save a little money during the remodel, he chosen to do some of the tasks like installing the ceramic tiles and plumbing fixtures, and painting.  

If anyone else had been with him in the bathroom, they would have seen a slight smile begin to break through the stern expression he had worn for the past few days. If he remembered correctly, he had thought that the painting was to be done the following weekend but for reasons that he was sure he had been told, but could no longer remember, she had push the contractors to complete the project earlier than was originally planned. So, he had gotten upset when she asked him if there was anything she could do to help him paint.  It seemed like it had been a Wednesday evening.  He had been tired, and he blamed her for changing the schedule which now inconvenienced him.  His response of “no” was done in a tone, and with the appropriate body language, to let her know that he was going to do it; he did not want to do it; and that it was her fault that he had to do it.  His attitude did not get any better when she reminded him that she had wanted to hire a painter, but he had wanted to save a few dollars.

The often recalled scene began to replay in his mind.

He was just about to start painting when she walked into the bathroom.

“Are those your new jeans?” She asked but then continued “You are not going to wear those to paint.” 

“Their fine.” He grouched back.

“No.  You’ll get paint on them and then, because you never throw any of your clothes away, I’ll have to watch you wear them for the next twenty years.” She responded. “Take those off and I will get you something else.” She finished and immediately left the room.

Now you would think that he would be able to take one pair of pants off and put another pair on without it being a problem but he knew that this would not be the case this time.  When got home form work, he had changed out of his suit, like normal.  But, as occasionally happened, he had decided to not wear underwear ….. to go commando.  Sometimes it just felt good to let things flop around a bit, and, even after decades of marriage, it still excited him to think that it was only a zipper that separated him from her.  She would not understand and would think that he was doing something sexual and would not approve.  She would actually be right but he did not let his mind work its way to that conclusion.

 She was back before he could figure out what to do.

“Here.” She said, handing him a clean but  stained pair of his jeans that were at least fifteen years old.

He just stood there with a sort of confused look on his face.  “Take those off and put these on.” She said.

Still holding the older jeans out to him she continued.  “Those are still clean.  Give them to me and I will take care of them for you.” 

Not knowing what else to do, he undid his belt, unzipped the zipper and let his pants fall to the floor.

“What? Why don’t you have any underwear on?”  She asked.

As usually happened when he was naked, or in this case, partially naked, around his wife, he found it hard to think so he responded with the only thing he could think of.

“I don’t know.”

At first, she tried to figure out how he could not know and what question she could ask to help him figure it out, but quickly decided that he was just lying.  Maybe because she still had clothes on or maybe it was just always the case but she was not having any trouble thinking quickly.  She recalled that when they were first married, he seemed to always be looking for an occasion to be naked around her.  Sometimes she found it cute. Sometimes she found it annoying.  He had slowly stopped doing it about the time their first child was born.  

She wondered.

“Ok, take off your shirt, shoes and socks… all of it. And give them to me.” She said with an as-matter-fact voice as she could create.

“What?” he asked.

“You heard me. All of it.  Now.” She replied.

He did not know what to do.  He was partially naked. She was telling him what to do, and he was sure that she would soon notice that his dick was beginning to get hard.  Not being able to think of any other response, he started to unbutton his shirt.  

Within a few minutes, he was painting…., and naked, … and happy.

This had been the start of a new way for them to relate.  Neither of them completely understood why but whenever she ordered him to do something, and to do it with at least his dick exposed, he would always become more focused on her, have additional energy, be at least partially aroused and be completely happy.   Now, she frequently had him doing things for her, sometimes just wearing only the apron that he had bought with that silly chef’s hat, and sometimes wearing nothing but a smile.

Bringing his mind back to the present, he entered the bathroom, he did a quick visual inspection of the room as he changed the lighting so that only the soft, blue, night light was on.  Cleaning the bathrooms and the rest of the house had become one of the things that he did.  This was another of the changes to their relationship that had developed since the children had moved out.  They had never sat down and made of list of what each of them would do.  He had found that doing the cleaning was something that he could do that would make her life easier.  If they really thought about it, they would both realize that she was the lead in most areas of their life together.  He pays the bills but uses the budget that she makes.  He normally does the grocery shopping but uses the list that she gives him.  He does most of the house and car maintenance after she approves the use of both his time and their money.  She does all of the cooking and the laundry (after he ruined one to many pieces of her clothing).  The undeniable sign that she is leading is that when they watched TV together, she has the remote.

Leaving his work clothes in a pile on the floor, to be pickup up later, he turned on the shower and stepped into the warm spray.   He let the steady spray of warm water hit him on the top of his head and flow down and across his shoulders.  By lifting his head up, he could have the spray on his face and then run down across his chest.  Leaning against the side wall with the spray on his head, he began to think about the new manager that had originally been the lead on his project.  

This was her first job coming out of college.  He had never been her supervisor but, like other new hires, she had worked closely with him for her first two years with the company.  During that time, it was his unofficial job to provide training.  He had done this, as he had done with others before her, but this young woman was different.  She was very intelligent but did not interact with people very well.  She would rarely ask questions and seem to take any question from him about her understanding of a project, as a questioning of her intelligence.  As a result, he never knew what she did or did not understand.  It did not surprise him that she was unable to be the lead on this project.  “If she would only just ask me, or anyone, questions” he thought.  

He began to run through the mistakes she had made when he noticed that his wife must have had Alexa play some light classical music on the speakers he had installed in the bathroom.  

He had setup the speakers for her as a surprise.   She always liked to have music playing quietly throughout the house but had not wanted a device installed in the bathroom that would be listening to her.  He had installed the speaker once he figured out how to add them to their system so that there was no microphone available. Of course, he did it while she was out for a few hours on a Saturday afternoon.  He smiled at the memory of the first time he had used them.  She was taking one of her “get-a-way” baths where…. well… he really did not know how or why they worked but, she would be in the warm tub for almost thirty minutes or more and not because she was dirty.  He had waited a minute or two after he heard her turn of the water when he gave Alexa the command.  

“Alexa, play ‘I’m too sexy for my shirt’ in the bathroom.”

He had thought it was funny and well worth the week of baths that it had cost him.  Though she had never admitted it to him, he was confident that she had thought it was funny also.

He did not know how long he had been in the shower but decided it was probably time to use some soap and get cleaned up.  When he was a child, his father had taught him how to wash a car.  “You start from the top and work your way down.”  He applied the same lesson to washing himself.  

After washing a rinsing his hair, he used body soap and started with his face and worked down except he skipped his butt and groin.  Once he was rinsed this soap off, he went back and began to soap up the previously neglected areas.  He closed his eyes to stop the reality of being alone in the shower, conflicting with the fantasy he wanted to create of being with his wife.  He pursed his lips and slightly stuck out his tongue as he thought about how she would have him caress, kiss and lick specific areas of her body.  He started to become aroused both by his thoughts and the contact of his hand as he applied soap to his penis.  He spent a few minutes fantasizing that it was her hand applying the soap, and not his. He knew he had to stop before he reached a climax.   He removed the handheld shower from its holder and began to rinse this soap off.  Spraying his balls and the underside of his dick felt great.  He slowly directed the spray in a moving pattern that went from the head of his dick, down across his balls and as far back as he could direct the spray.  He had only done a few cycles of this pattern before he heard her.

“I thought that you would dawdle, cleaning there.” She said.

He used the shower head to rinse away the fog on the glass shower door.  Even with only the nightlight on, he could see her sitting in the chair by her tub, holding a glass of wine. He figured that the sound of the shower and the background music must have stopped him from hearing her come into the bathroom.   

Putting her glass down on a table, she stood and walked toward him.

“Hang that thing back up.” She said.

She opened the shower door about halfway once he had hung the shower head back in its holder.

“I think you may have missed a spot.” She said as she poured body soap into her hand. 

Tonight, with only the overhead nightlight on, she would let him close his eyes and lean into the wall and relax. Usually, when she was doing or had him do something to arouse him, she would have him look at her. She loved the way his eyes seemed to change to a brighter blue the more he became excited. “Someday” she thought, “I’ll be able to control when he orgasms just by the color of his eyes.”

He had not been completely aroused when she started her ‘cleaning’ but it only took her firm grip and a little soap to get him hard.  

“Where you thinking of me when you were doing this?” she asked.

His response was somewhere between “Uh huh” and a grunt.  It was what she expected.  She knew that she could tell him to answer with a clear ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but anything much more complicated than a single word response was probably beyond his current capabilities.  “Let’s see what he can do.” She thought.

“I don’t want you to have an orgasm.  Warn me if you think you cannot control it.  Do you understand? She asked.

This time he was able to answer with a word.  “Yes.”

“I am going to count to ten, slowly. I am going to stop when I get to ten. I want you to notice how long it is between each number.  Remember it.  Do you understand?”  she asked again, as she expertly applied the soap.

“Uh huh” he replied again.

“Ok.  One.” She started.  In her mind, she tried to count off about ten seconds between each number.

She continued to count and continued to give him the massage that he had been fantasizing about.  She primarily stimulated the underside and head of his penis but would occasionally work on his balls.  

Twice, she slid her fingers further back and allowed them to flick across his butt hole.  In all of the time that they had been married, she had never done more than a light touch to this area.  She thought that she might like to do more but she knew, by the way he clinched his butt, that he did not like this. She never asked and he never said.

“Ten.” She said and rinsed her hands in the shower spray.

“Now I want you to rinse this are, and only this area, like you were doing before I interrupted you.” She told him.

He took the hand held shower head, lowered the spray and started to rinse.  “Thank you” he quietly said, looking into her eyes.

She noticed that much of the weariness that he had come home with, seemed to have been washed away.  She was also very pleased with the intensity of the blue in his eyes.

“I want you to close your eyes and relax.  Keep rinsing yourself and count to twenty. Remember how slowly I counted.  When you are done, wear the cloths I have left you and come help me in the kitchen.  Ok?” she asked.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the side wall.  The water felt even better than it had last time he rinsed this area because of the level of arousal she had taken him to.

Since he did not respond, she knew that she needed to walk him through what should have been a simple process.  Though usually very intelligent, she knew, and sometimes counted on, there being occasions where his mind seemed to almost stop working.

“What area of you body are you to rinse?” she asked.

“Just here, and here” he said, directing the water from his dick to his butt.

“Anywhere else?”

“No.” He replied.

“Correct.  And what do you count to?” 

“Twenty.” He replied.

“Ok. Begin.”

“One.” He started.

She watched him rinse himself as she silently counted off the seconds. He said “two” after about ten seconds.

“Good” she encouraged and again, started silently counting off another ten seconds.

What she heard was “thraaaaah” because just as he was about to say “three”, she reached in and quickly turned off the hot water and slid the shower door closed.

He immediately redirected the ice cold spray away from his body.  He would have sprayed her if the door had not been closed.

He could hear her laughter over the sound of the water and the music which was still playing calmly in the background.  

He knew what he was supposed to do but still waited until she pointed at his groin.

He closed his eyes, not to relax but to brace himself for the cold water, and directed the spray to where she was pointing.

“Four.” He continued.

He moved the spray toward the side wall when her heard her tap on the glass and say “No.”

She said. “I told you to only rinse one area, not the entire shower.  Boys that don’t follow instructions get punished.  You have misbehaved twice so start over at one and count to twenty five.”

“Oh, and I want to be able to hear you from the kitchen.” She added.

He may not have been smiling when he restarted his rinsing, and he may not have like the cold water but he had not thought about work since she came into the bathroom and he wound not think about work until maybe sometime late Sunday evening.

His thoughts now were that he loves his wife and he loves the life that she gives him.  

He was yet to discover that the only clothing he had left for him to wear was a clean but well-worn apron.