My super sexy wife Michelle loves to get off in the bathtub, using only the ferocious stream of water blasting from the faucet.

On any given weekend, we have at least one tub moment where she straddles and rides the wave of water all the way home. We call these moments “The Plumber.”

I watch. And I always begin to salivate for her clean, pink pussy that’ll taste so sweet and feel so creamy when she finishes. Sometimes, I bend over the side of the tub and suck on her nipples while she gushes. There’s nothing that makes my cock harder, faster. Nothing.

Michelle and I live in a great pre — war apartment in Koreatown, and our water pressure is fucking phenomenal. My honey climaxes fiercely within a minute of pushing her juicy cunt up into the shooting stream, and then dissolves herself into the hot water. It is so elemental. Afterward we get down to serious sessions of fucking — it’s as if the waterplay makes her even tighter and juicier, more electric. I love to see her body stretched out on the floor or the bed, wherever we happen to be, with her toes curled up and her clit big, round, and pulsating.

For Michelle’s 35th birthday this year, I thought I’d surprise her with a trip to a spa where we could have massages and a private bath, and where I could grease up my member with her sweet stuff. She was thrilled when our taxi dropped us off at the new West Hollywood spa and juice bar, a place she’d always wanted to go.

First up were two phenomenal massages. Afterward, relaxed and blissed out, we got our own private room with a sunken tub, candles, and an unfortunate pan flute soundtrack we could have lived without.

As I expected, Michelle immediately got herself into position over the tub’s faucet, which thankfully had water pressure that rivaled ours. She rode that shit like a champ, and all was going as planned until she came like never before and her left foot cramped. As I watched in horror, she pulled the hot water faucet straight off of the valve and banged her other foot through the cheap-ass tiling. Thankfully I caught her as she fell back into the huge tub, but now there was a gaping hole in the wall, straight through to the tub room adjacent ours (which, miracle of miracles, was unoccupied at the time).

Fuck me! How in the world would we explain this? Not sure what else to do, I stuck a rolled-up towel in the space where the plaster had crumbled and we jammed the faucet knob back on the valve, which was completely stripped. MacGyver to the rescue! We still had 30 minutes left to our session, but neither one of us wanted to hang around the scene of the crime.

At checkout, I casually mentioned that the faucet in our room was extremely loose. They told me not to worry, as they had a great plumber on staff.

Illustrations by Jason Johnson