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To hold your head
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I felt something small strike the center of my spine, and float to the bottom of the tub. "Oh I'm sorry Martin Thomas," she was reaching beneath the surface of the water, "I dropped the soap, "
I tried to shift forward to give her room to continue her efforts, but her left hand was now on my chest,
her nails raking through my moist chest hair. Her arm was holding me from moving away. I moaned slightly, "Barbara, you're gonna get wet," I said. That's when I noticed that the arms of her robe were already drenched, the lace dangling heavily from the sleeves.
"You're right," she said, as she stood up abruptly. She was out of my vision as I shifted in the tub, I remember it was very hard to keep the bubbles positioned to hide my increasing arousal. I didn't hear the robe being laid atop the commode. I didn't see the gown fall silently to the floor. I remember looking to my right as I saw her legs, now bare, step to the side of the tub. I glanced upward, and saw even more.
Barbara stooped down, she smiled as she gauged the reaction on my face. Her body was now covered only in a sheer sheaf of glistening fabric. The heavy robe was gone. The fabric broke perhaps six inches above her knee. Her eyes never left mine as she watched for my first words. I simply smiled looking up, "gee, I don't know what's on your mind," I said. "You have been through an awful lot," she said as I felt her move a warm sponge to wash my body. She continued to soap my skin. The warm water trickled down my chest as I began to feel life returning to my chill-stiffened limbs.
"How long has it been since you've had this kind of attention Mr. Thomas?" Barbara's eyes flashed as I felt the sponge brushing lightly against my crotch. She was lovely, her arms bare, her nipples hard against the shimmering fabric of her gown. My legs parted slightly as she continued to rub the sponge against my body beneath the water line. "Oh, I have not had a nice warm bath in quite some time," I said. I felt myself growing even more aroused as I watched her slender wrist stirring ripples beneath the surface. The bubbles pushed aside as I felt fingers grasping at my body. Her nails snaking lightly across the skin of my naked thighs.
"How long as it been since you've been with a woman, Martin Thomas?" The words seemed to echo against the bathroom walls as I felt her hand squeezing tightly around my manhood. She was now pulling and squeezing in ways that drew my focus solely toward her. "I don't remember," I said, "right now it seems like years."
I heard her chuckle as she continued to wash my body. "I see you are returning to the world of the living Martin," she smiled as she said the words. "Here, drink this nice warm tea, sassafras, cinnamon, and ginseng, it will hasten your recovery, I'm sure." She poured a cup of the steaming brew, and raised it to my lips. "I want you to know Martin Thomas, that I am not in a habit of opening my door to strangers," she said. "My husband will be exploring your wreck at least until sometime tomorrow and now you and I are here alone."
Barbara smiled as she rose up, her dripping hand flicking water across my brow. I saw her as she walked toward the door. "I've found this for you to wear when you get out of the tub," she said. She motioned to a hook where a thick brown cotton robe hung limply by the door.
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as you read
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Barbara paused as she left the bathroom. "I think you're probably very tired," she said. "There is a room to your right. Go in there and I will bring you some food." I wondered why this woman was being so open, and so free with me, as I laid there feeling an inner warmth returning to my body. The candles surrounding me gave off a warm and soothing glow as the tense feelings of my ordeal retreated from the present.
I found the room she offered. Diving into clean, crisp sheets, I enfolded my robed body inside the coolness of the fabric. My mind recalled the blast, the fire, floundering in frigid seas, and the darkening glow of a sinking vessel. I drifted somewhere between now and the past, feeling lucky, human, and secure as I felt my eyes closing in the dim candlelight.
The dogs were back, one quietly perched its head on the spread covering my body. The other barked in the stairwell, as I heard light footsteps coming of the hall. The smell of stew, warm and meaty filled my nostrils. Barbara was there, a tray in her hands held a bowl, a fork , some bread, and yet another cup of a warm drink.
She set the tray down in my lap, the scent of a home-cooked meal wafted past my nose. She raised a spoon to my mouth as I opened to receive a meal that had been too long in coming. Her warm almond shaped eyes continued to watch me as I savored each bite.
I noticed her looking at my neck. "What is that," she said, as she lifted the metal bolt and ring which hung down from a chain. "It is a tradition back to the days of sail," I said. "A seaman carried a ring and bolt to secure fresh sail as he worked the rigging above." I grasped her hand tightly as she clutched my talisman. "A lot of good it would do me now," I said, "perhaps I could use it to bolt equipment to a concrete hull."
Barbara had many questions for me. "How long have you been at sea? Do you see your family much, what happened on the ship?" She continued to shovel food into my mouth. When I'd eaten the last morsel she dabbed my mouth with a linen napkin. She then wrapped the cloth tightly around the silver she'd used to feed me. Setting the tray on the nightstand, I felt her hands pushing me over toward the center of the bed.
I was surprised as she pulled back the covers, sliding in next to me. Her hands roamed across my chest pushing back the robe as she continued staring into my eyes. The questions never stopped as she asked about the voyage , the cargo, and my shipmates. "We're not really supposed to talk about things like that these days," I said. The next question surprised me. "How long has it been since you've been with a woman," she said. I thought about an answer, but it didn't seem to matter as I felt her warm, soft skin touching and wrapping around different spots on my body.
"Barbara, you're a married woman," I said as I moved away under the sheets. I felt her hand now grasping tightly around my manhood, as she aggressively explored my body. "When is your husband coming home," I said, as she slid downward under the sheet. Her head was resting on my belly as she replied, "I told you, he is gone at least until sometime tomorrow."
I watched as her head disappeared beneath the covers. I relaxed and thought of very little as I felt her hair sweep lightly across my waist. The pleasure of the moment spawned reluctance to question or object. I'm not sure whether the next moments brought new feelings or forgotten pleasures. I drifted as my body responded to Barbara's actions. I enjoyed her touch, her kisses and the warmth of her attention. The candles flickered as she emerged. I watched as she wiped her face and left the tastes of passion marked clearly on a white cloth like others she'd used earlier in the evening.
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to the end
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Final Rest
We shared so much passion as the hours flew by. This woman who'd rescued me from the cold seemed to give all and take even more as we enjoyed each other's touches. The morning came too quickly as I drifted off to a deep sleep.
I awakened to strange sounds, a radio, playing music like I'd never heard, and then voices from downstairs, which seemed to grow louder. The talk was muffled in the living room, but the radio voices rose clearly up the stairs. "Researchers have completed their exploration of the artificial reef off Block Island Sound." I listened to the words in my half-dazed stupor. "Dr. William Roberts has returned with a team of divers from the wreckage of a vessel sunk more than fifty years ago." I stirred as I listened to the report. "The liberty ship 'Quentin Keye' went down after being struck by a torpedo, it's captain and 13 hands were lost in November of 1944."
The sounds of the radio were drowned out by voices in the kitchen, I recognized Barbara's, but the others were male. "Gentlemen, I want you to meet my wife, Dr. Barbara Roberts. She shares my passion for shipwrecks, but her interest is parapsychology, ha-ha, she specializes in the study of troubled spirits lost at sea." I heard Barbara's voice, "Oh, Bill, it is every bit the science that marine archeology is," she said.
"Ahhh, my dear Barbara, this time I have proof," Bill said, as I quietly crept down the stairwell. Bill held up a chain with a corroded bolt and ring attached, a fragment of a metal plate hung brown from the faded metallic chain. Barbara grabbed at it, and read the words "Thomas, Martin, bloo..." . as she let it go and looked over toward the stairs.
I felt my body, changing, fading, as my surroundings became surreal. My final memories as I left the world were of Barbara standing there, holding her tray of soiled white linens. I heard her voice as the physical world became even less real to me, "Bill my research is on the verge of a major breakthrough, I tell you that D-N-A testing and other new technologies will help prove my theories conclusively."
Then, as I slowly disappeared I looked down to the bottom of the steps. The growling dog was tussling with a piece of soiled, blue knitted cloth. An ancient dry rotted watchcap, brown yarn still woven across the back in the shape of two initials was clear, 'M-T' it said, I saw the letters as I finally disappeared.
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