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Captioned Images Series: Couldn't Believe His Luck 2
Created: 07/05/2025
After his swim, Derek emerged from the pool glistening under the dimming sky. The soft lavender light of the garden sconces reflected on the water's surface as he wrapped himself in one of Mrs. Collins' plush white towels—thick, velvety, and embroidered with a monogrammed gold “C.” It felt as if it weighed as much as a small blanket, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and opulence.
Inside, he padded barefoot down the polished marble hallway, water droplets leaving ghostly prints that quickly faded. He turned into the master bathroom—and for a moment, he just stood in awe.
The room was enormous—larger than his entire apartment bedroom. Walls painted in soft peach with delicate white crown molding gave it an ethereal, spa-like atmosphere. White Calacatta marble ran from floor to ceiling, veined with graceful silver threads that shimmered in the ambient light. At the center of the space stood a soaking tub, freestanding and oval, perched elegantly on a mosaic-tiled platform. The fixtures—brushed rose gold—glinted like jewelry, catching the warm glow of the chandelier overhead, its delicate crystals swaying gently with the air.
To his left, a sprawling vanity with dual sinks sat under three large gilded mirrors. Derek opened one of the mirrored cabinets, his curiosity piqued.
Inside: luxury. An immaculate collection of creams, lotions, and skincare treasures greeted him—La Mer, Sisley Paris, Clé de Peau, Oribe. French perfumes lined the shelves in delicate glass bottles with atomizers. There were silk-wrapped jars of anti-aging masks and golden tubes of hand-whipped moisturizers. A Chanel compact sat elegantly beside a pot of Guerlain body polish. Derek inhaled deeply. Everything smelled subtly divine—notes of jasmine, bergamot, and sandalwood mingling in the air like the promise of something forbidden and exquisite.
He began with a quick shower under the rainfall head, letting the water cascade over him washing away the chlorine of the pool, warm and powerful, massaging his skin as he reached for the gold-handled razor and thick, whipped shaving cream. He shaved slowly, deliberately, letting the indulgence of it sink in—no rush, no roommates knocking, no need to preserve warm water. The water softened his skin, and when he stepped out, he reached for the Egyptian cotton towel again.
Then, he turned his attention to the bath.
He selected a Baccarat crystal bottle labeled “Fleurs de Soirée” and poured it under the flowing tap. The water churned with opalescent foam, releasing a heady blend of night-blooming jasmine, amber, and neroli. Derek lowered himself into the bath and let out a soft sigh as the bubbles rose around him and steam kissed his face. The sensation of weightlessness, the heat, the perfume—it was overwhelming in the best way. He closed his eyes and let himself drift for a while, his mind floating with fantasies of elegance and ease.
Eventually, he emerged from the bath flushed and glowing. He wrapped himself again in a fresh towel, one warmed from the built-in towel warmer near the vanity. Standing at the mirror, he took his time. He applied the rose-scented body lotion that glided over his skin like silk. Then a thicker cream for his elbows and knees, followed by a nourishing oil he patted delicately onto his collarbones and arms.
Derek wandered back into the closet wrapped in the towel and paused at one of the drawers lined with fabric compartments. Inside, a row of lingerie—delicate, artful, and sorted by color. He selected a pair of white satin panties trimmed with a scalloped lace edge and slid them on. They felt cool, slippery, and decadent.
From a nearby hanger, he chose a pink silk nightgown with thin straps and a plunging neckline, cut on the bias so it flowed like water over his body. It shimmered as he moved, catching the soft closet lights. The silk whispered against his freshly bathed skin, smooth as a sigh, as he adjusted the straps.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
He barely recognized the person staring back. his damp hair, his skin glowing, his body wrapped in silk and fragrance. There was little trace of the man with the tiny room and the cheap cotton pajamas.
Derek walked slowly out of the bathroom, the soft brush of the nightgown against his thighs sending shivers of pleasure up his spine.
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