writersnetwarkA brilliant matter to opt and weave something that is a concern of urgence . Spectacular view presented with unwanted phenomenas happened due to ill activities of humans. Beautifully covered the base and fantastically poured out profound thoughts with serene rhymes . An eye opener and must needed piece . Well done .
Heheheeee, go take your bath, maybe that's why You're feeling sick... Tomorrow I wanna see you all smiling & happy, fresh, don't forget to take your bath... ; ) Just wanted to put that wide awkward smile on you face, it's so damn cute. : )
"We need to talk,“ Summer said, as we sat at the dining table eating the last remnants of breakfast food in the house. She wrapped her arms about herself, though the morning chill had already dissipated. “Okay,” I replied, a hint of worry in my tone. It wasn’t exactly what she said, but the way she came out of the blue with it, as if she had been allowing it to build up inside her for so long.
“What are we going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we know this is our last day to stay here. In the morning we’ll have to go…but where do we go?”
I thought about this. “I had thought you would go home to finish up things with your mom’s estate and I would go back to the city to wait until I heard from you. But that was before I asked you to marry me.”
“You could come with me,” she said.
I looked at her. “If you want me to.”
“I wouldn’t suggest it unless I wanted you to. But do you want to? Or do you need to settle some things, too?”
I knew what she was implying. “It’s settled. It was settled when she didn’t show.”
She nodded. “I guess I’m thinking you didn’t get the closure you wanted. Not like I got with my father anyway.”
“I don’t need closure. I have a new beginning, and that is perfectly alright with me.”
She smiled, but something in the look said she was unsure.
I reached across the table and took her hands. “Wherever you go, I’m going with you. There is nothing back in the city except an empty apartment. To go back there would only remind me you were somewhere else. “
She squeezed my hands. “Okay, love. I just needed to know what you wanted to do, how we were going to proceed with this.”
“When do you want to get married?”
The abrupt question threw her off. “What?”
“The date. What do you want to shoot for?”
She smiled. “Talk about putting a girl on the spot.”
“You don’t have to answer now. Just think about it and let me know. My schedule is open.”
She smiled. “Is it now?” Leaning across the table, she kissed me. “Okay then.” She leaned back in her seat and nervously played with the ring on her finger. “How about I go take me a bath? I can think about it over hot water and bubble bath.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
Summer got up from the table and went to put her breakfast plate in the kitchen sink. “Why don’t you pick out something for me to wear?” she asked over her shoulder.
She turned around and cast me a mischievous look. “If we’re to be married you have to learn how to dress me…not just undress me.”
“I’ll try, but I’m liable to pick out the wrong thing.”
“If it’s in my wardrobe, it’s not wrong,” she replied. “You can pick out my underwear, too.”
“That’s going to be the toughest decision of my life.”
She laughed. “You’ll do fine. Lots of sexy stuff for you to choose from.” As if to make her point, she walked across the linoleum floor, undressing as she went. She was down to her underwear by the time she passed through the open bathroom doorway. “You can just bring me your choices when you’ve made up your mind.”
She left the door open and I couldn’t help but sneak a peek as she turned on the water for her bath and slipped out of the rest of her clothes. I turned with a smile and made my way from the scene, out of the kitchen, through the house and upstairs to her room.
Looking through her clothes, trying to pick out something wasn’t an easy task, but I settled on a flowery hippie top that looked to be half halter, half frilly blouse. A pair of cutoff jeans with peace signs sewn on the pockets complemented the top, and I snatched up her sandals, knowing she wasn’t as comfortable in regular shoes. The underwear selection was much harder. I felt like anything I picked would be designed to show off her figure. I decided not to fight it and picked out what I thought were the laciest, sexiest things in her drawer. She might pick on me for being so skimpy on her attire, but she did tell me to pick out something. I couldn’t help that I thought she would look irresistible in these things.
I headed out of her room, but before I could start down the stairs, I heard a knock at the front door. Looking out the hallway window, I could see a familiar colored pickup truck in the drive. I headed down the stairs, and as I passed by the front door, I called out, “Be there in a minute, hold on!”
I headed quickly to the bathroom and set her things on the sink. “Sorry,“ I said. “I tried not to do so sexy, but I’m horrible at that.”
She giggled. “I figured as much,“ she happily teased, looking absolutely beautiful in the tub, bubbles surrounding her lithe frame, her legs propped up on the edge of the clawed tub.
“By the way,” I said, trying not to be too distracted, “Someone’s at the door. Looks like Earl’s truck.”
“Okay. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Will do, love.” I bent over and kissed her on the forehead, the nose, and finally the lips. She scooped up a handful of bubbles and put them on my chin.
TO BE CONTINUED Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.
vicki_73Truly loved it. Very true though if a man can undress his love, then he surely should be able to pick out the clothes that he thinks she would like to wear. Not just something he would like to see her in. Very well done! ✍
It may be difficult for the average person to understand, but there is something exceedingly beautiful about seeing your partner in the bath. The way the water cascades in rivulets down their body when you splash it onto their skin, the way that same body seems to rise to meet your hands when you put soap to them and work it into lather. Perhaps it’s the way your hands feel upon them, how you linger in your favorite places, or discover new ones you never noticed before. Maybe it’s the soap beneath your fingers creating a slippery surface on soft skin and the desire that wells upon with you, wanting to touch even more. I cannot say for certain, but there is something about soapy water and bare skin that is just so sensual that it invades every sense, smell, touch, even taste…but I do recommend waiting until the soap is off before the latter.
Summer laughed, looking at my face after I dared to kiss her breast with soap intact. So lost in my thoughts and longing for her, I didn’t realize I hadn’t washed the lather from her. With this horrid look on my face, we both could do nothing but laugh. I handed her the soap and felt she should do the rest herself. I couldn’t be trusted not to want her, suds and all.
As she took her turn to bathe me, I still could not keep my eyes off her lovely frame. She seemed to glow in the tub, and I don’t think it had anything to do with the fact I had washed her. There is a particular look that comes over new lovers, especially when they have made love three times in less than twenty four hours. There was a fresh aura about Summer that made her look different to me. She looked far happier and her whole body seemed to bask in it, as I’m sure mine did too. I could feel myself glowing as her hands caressed my skin with the warm lather, and I knew I must look different in this light too, as if something inside me had broken apart and was now coming back together in new and wonderful ways. She put her hand upon my heart and I knew she could feel the racing beat, for she smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. “I know,” she whispered, and there was no need to say anything else. She let the soap fall from her hands and took me into her arms. The comfort that came from that gesture, the reassurance that we all need, washed all over me, and I thought to myself I was living the best love story ever.
After our first bath together, Summer surprised me again by suggesting we dress each other for the day. I found this to be a bit awkward, for part of me wanted to dress her conservative so as not reveal all her womanly charms to everyone else, and yet another part of me wanted to dress her as sexy as the mores of the country town would allow. In the end, I put her in tight fitting jeans, and we laughed as I tried to work them up past her shapely hips. For a top, I chose a low cut blouse that hugged her breasts, revealing the shape of her without making her pop out everywhere. Ruffles bordered the floral blouse and I chose a few bracelets from her jewelry to complement the outfit. I also picked out her earrings which were shaped like little cupcakes. When I told her she could pick out her own shoes, she protested, saying I had to completely dress her, so I put some ocean blue flip flops on her gorgeous feet.
If I thought I might have dressed her in too revealing attire, I needn’t have worried. She made me try on every pair of jeans I had until we found the tightest ones. For a shirt she repeated the process, finally finding a solid black button up shirt that was missing the top two buttons. I guess if her cleavage was going to be revealed some, then so would mine. Normally, I would have worn an undershirt, but she said no. “I want to see your cute skunk trail,” she said. From her own jewelry she took a handmade bracelet, a peace sign wrapped in hemp cord and put it on me. Then she took a vial that contained some kind of oil and had me rub it into my wrists. It had the smell of sandalwood. She couldn’t quite find the right shoes from my own luggage, so to keep us matching she put me in a pair of her sandals to top everything off. Dark and made of leather, they fit a little tight but looked good against the rest of my wardrobe. We both looked at each other head to foot. Smiling, I thought she looked so cute and sexy, and as for myself , well let’s just say I had never been dressed so well in my life.
“Now I think we are ready to face the apple pickers,” she proudly said.
The wind up clock read 2:30 before we got out of bed again. Summer got up first this time, and I watched her cross the room, graceful and free, towards her dresser. Opening a drawer, she got out the clothes she wanted to wear and turned towards me. “Come on, Chubby,” she said. “Let’s go take a bath.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A what?”
“A bath. You know hot water, bar of soap, wash on, rinse off.”
I grinned. “I know what you mean, I just never…”
“You’ve never taken a bath? How do you smell so nice?”
I laughed and a blush came to my cheeks. “No, I’ve taken a bath. Just not with someone else in it.”
She nearly dropped her clothes. A sly grin crossed her lips. “You’re kidding, right? Never taken a bath with a girl?”
“What about bitch-face Ashley?”
I laughed. “No, she would have had a fit if she couldn’t have the bathtub all to herself. That was her me time.”
“Well, my me time is you time, so come on.” She didn’t wait, but sauntered across the floor making sure she had my attention and was allured to follow. She stepped out on the landing and I heard her bare feet padding down the steps. “I’ll get it started,” she called out. “Don’t make me come back to drag you in the tub.”
“Oh please, drag me,” I mumbled, climbing out of bed and following in her pleasant wake.
I was halfway down the stairs when I heard her scream. It wasn’t a blood curdling cry of terror, but a yelp of surprise like when you realize you aren’t completely alone. I jumped the rest of the way down and rounded both corners into the kitchen where I saw she was hunched down in front of the cabinets by the sink.
“There’s people out there,” she hissed. “In the orchard.”
All the window shades were open, affording a clear view both inside and out, and sure enough I could see there were people out in the orchard. Several groups were picking apples from trees and putting them in baskets. I stepped up close to the window and drew the shades before anyone saw inside. After all, there were kids out there, too. No need for children or their grandparents to see us both naked as the day we were born. I had to laugh just a little.
“It’s okay, Summer. They must open the orchard to tourists and locals on the weekends. Nothing to worry about.” I walked around the room to close the remaining shades, being careful to avoid being seen by all the fruit pickers who had invaded our little sanctuary.
“Nothing to worry about?” she exclaimed, slowly coming out of her crouch, now that we had a little privacy back. “They could see everything I got. Apples and all.”
I grinned and stepped up to her, taking her in my arms. “Oh baby, you are peaches, not apples.” I kissed her on her neck and she made a purring sound in my ear.
“Well, I hope there’s no fruit pickers in the bathtub. Except you.”
She gently pried herself from my embrace and sauntered into the bathroom with a self-assured shake to her walk. She knew I found her beautiful and that brought out her playful side. Thinking of her in the bath brought out mine.
I followed her into the bathroom, and habit made me shut the door. She already was in the tub, hot water filling up the old claw footed antique. She didn’t have to invite me in. The sight of her was enough to coax me over the edge of the tub and down into its steamy waters.
“I can’t believe you’ve never taken a bath with anyone,” she said, as I sat across from her, her smooth bare legs touching mine.
She looked at me with an incredulous look on her face. “Didn’t you and Ashley ever do anything together?”
I gave a little snort in response. “Not much. Eat dinner. Go to sleep. Have sex whenever it suited her.”
“Why did you stay with her so long?”
I thought about it. “Sometimes I guess we get comfortable in a relationship. Even when it’s not a good one. We tell ourselves there’s nothing else out there for us. This is as good as it gets.”
“Yeah, I know,” she agreed, swishing the water around her as it came level with her stomach.
“With her, I thought I was in love. Things would get bad, or I would get to feeling unimportant, and she seemed to know it. So she would do something thoughtful to bring you back to her. But in reality, she only wanted you when she wanted you.”
“I knew a guy like that once. I thought I loved him, probably would have married him too if it hadn’t been for me taking care of my mom. I adored him, though he only adored himself. Once I got away from him, I was like how in the world did I end up with that guy?”
“Yeah, all the while you tell yourself you are in love. I think my problem was I had never been in a serious relationship until her. I had never known someone who really loved me, so I had nothing to compare it to. In those cases, you are none the wiser and easily taken in by someone who says, hey this is love. Even if it really isn’t.”
“So you didn’t really love Ashley?”
“At the time I thought I did. But getting stood up at the altar tends to make one stand back and analyze things.” I shook my head and laughed. “Why in the world are we talking about her while I’m in the tub with you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to see how you felt about her now. Whether anything remains.”
“Nothing remains,” I said.
She nodded with a little smile. “I’m glad. I don’t like sharing.” She smiled. “Unless it’s soap.” She handed me a bar of soap. “Now, would you like to wash me?”
A loud noise brought me up from my bathtub nap. It sounded like a slamming door, then something getting slung down hard on the kitchen floor. I heard a whistle. Not the sound of a kettle boiling or a train coming down the track, but the whistle that replaces awe and exclamation when someone finds something beyond their expectations. Then the whistle turned into a happy sounding tune. I recognized it instantly. Lynyrd Skynyrd. Call me the breeze. It was at that point I realized someone else was in the house.I climbed from the tub and threw my legs over the high sides, snatching a towel from a shelf on the wall. I bumped the sink as I wrapped it around my waist. I heard a low voice whisper, “oh hell,” as I rushed out into the kitchen area. Standing between the dining room and the fireplace that separated it from the living room was a young woman. She had been looking at my luggage there on the couch and realizing she wasn’t alone. With my rush out of the bathroom she spun towards me. Surprise turned to shock, which quickly turned to embarrassment.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. She put her hand to her mouth, then corrected herself and covered her eyes instead. I looked down quickly to make sure nothing was showing and clutched the towel tighter to me. “I’m sorry,” she repeated and turned her back to me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She pushed a strand of long dark hair out of her eyes. “I just rented the place. I didn’t think anyone else was here. They didn’t say anything about other guests.”
“Well, I just rented it no more than half an hour ago. They must have a short memory.” I reached for the phone on the wall. The number of the fruit stand was posted beside it. I started dialing.
She turned to face me again. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling them to find out what’s going on.” Then my towel fell off.
She threw her hand to her face and turned away. “Maybe you should dress first,” she suggested with a nervous giggle. I don’t know who was more red – she, I, or the apples out in the orchard.
As a child I had a recurring nightmare. It’s the first day of school and I’m walking the halls. It’s nice to be there and I’m happy to be reunited with my friends after the summer and maybe meet a nice girl to boot. I’m alone in the hall, lost in thought, when the bell rings. The classrooms dispel their students and they come rushing out in the hallway to go to their next class, their lockers, or quite possibly the smoking block. As everyone is scurrying around me, I suddenly realize I’m naked. And within seconds everyone else does, too. They laugh and point, and I’m so embarrassed I’m trying to find an empty classroom to escape to. That’s what it felt like with this stranger in Orchard House, and I, just like in the dream, ran for it. Dashing back into bathroom, I slammed the door behind me and hurriedly dressed. Getting my pants and shirt back on, I looked in the mirror. If I was trying to gain courage from my reflection, it wasn’t happening. I took a deep breath and stepped back out into the kitchen to confront the woman. I didn’t know what to say to her. I was never much good with the ladies, and especially not ones who just showed up in your house. It didn’t help matters that she was beautiful. She had long dark hair, framing a face that carried a slight trace of Native American heritage. She wasn’t dark skinned, but her high cheekbones and shape of her face gave it away. She had deep brown eyes, and light freckles painted her face, which bore no trace of makeup. She was wearing long jeans, brown at the knees, as if she spent most of her time on her knees in a garden, and a bright t-shirt that happily exclaimed “I love nerds” on the front. For a moment, I almost wished for a pocket protector and black framed glasses.
Finding my voice, I asked her, “So, what’s your name?”
She held out her hand. “I’m Summer.”
I took it and discovered her hand shake was pretty firm. “Matthew.” I sighed and picked the phone off the wall again. “Well, let’s get this thing straightened out, I suppose.” I dialed the number on the wall and it began to ring. I looked at the woman, who had now sat down at the kitchen table to wait the outcome. She was watching me with her dark eyes, brown like rich earth, and I had to look away because I wasn’t used to it. It’s not that I found her gaze intrusive; eye contact has always been an alien thing to me. When no one picked up the phone on the other end, I dared to look at her again. She sadly smiled.
“Hey look, you were here first,” she said. Her duffle bags had been sitting in the kitchen floor, and so she stood up and reached for them. Hefting one in each arm, she started for the door. “I’ll just go back to the store and ask for my money back.”
I hung up the phone, as she came around me and opened up the door. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry to have intruded, Mr. Matthew. I truly thought the place was empty.” She held out her hand and I took it. Her palm was now soft and warm and it made me realize her handshake earlier was the first time a woman had touched me since Ashley. Not a thing to be thinking at all, when this woman is walking out the door. But it was just a handshake after all. Business, not pleasure.
She stepped out on the back porch and went down the steps without looking back. She was proud. She wouldn’t show me a look of sympathy, nor regret. She wouldn’t look at me from beneath her dark locks, or stare at me from deep eyes to say she didn’t want to go. Instead, she disappeared around the corner of the house and I heard her fumble for her keys and open her car door. I stood there in the doorway, staring out at the orchard. I had come here to be alone, to find what was next for me if anything. I didn’t want company; I just wanted my sad world to stop spinning enough to gather my thoughts.
The closing of her car door brought me out of my thoughts of aloneness. “Damn,” I muttered, and pushed open the screen door. I ran down the steps and around the corner. She had put the car in reverse and was getting ready to back down the long drive. I threw up my hand. “Hey wait!” I came around to her window. She was looking at me curiously.
“Did I forget something?” she asked.
“No, it’s not that. Look, the house is huge. It has rooms upstairs and downstairs. It should be enough space for us both to live in without running over top each other. If you don’t mind sharing the house with a stranger, I guess I don’t mind either.”
She seemed to think about it, staring down into her own lap silently, before looking up at me. “I’ll tell you what. I have business here in the area. May take me three days to finish up. Once it’s done I’ll get out of your hair. I won’t be a bother in the meantime.”
I smiled. “Neither will I. and I promise not to flash you anymore.”
She laughed. “Okay. Deal.”
I stepped back and let her get out the car. “You want ground floor or upstairs?” I asked.
She reached into her back seat to grab her duffel bags. “I’m used to apartment living, I’ll take upstairs if you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine, here let me help you.” I reached for one of her bags but she wouldn’t let me take it. Miss independence. “Well, I’m going to go and finish settling in. just make yourself at home, Summer.”
I left her to carry her bags as she wished and returned to the house. Back in the kitchen I had to ask myself what I was doing, staying in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with a woman who had to be twenty years my junior. In the city, the neighbors would have been wagging their tongues for sure. I stepped into the bathroom and looked at the discarded towel in the floor. I had to laugh at my embarrassing moment upon meeting Summer. It was the stuff of sitcoms and comedy movies, not real life. it was also the kind of things you tell your kids when they grow up. Now where did that thought come from? Maybe once I had thought of children, but never more. One woman can kill everything for you.
I had taken my bath things out and set them on the sink before my bath. I looked down at a razor sitting on the edge. Picking it up, I stared at it, wondering if I would ever be so brave to show Ashley just what she had done. I ran some warm water and sprayed shaving cream into my hands. Rubbing the cream on my face, I took the razor more firmly and shaved the three days growth off my face. I watched myself in the mirror with red rimmed eyes, but I refused to cry.
TO BE CONTINUED
Orchard House. Paul D Aronson All Rights Reserved
Author's Note: Longtime readers of my novels will probably notice the name of the female lead here is the same as one in "Advocate For The Dead". However these are not the same person. I guess i liked the name so much I ended up using it again without realizing it. Hope it doesn't cause much confusion. Thanks for reading