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Chuck and Cletus 2.com
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What We're Doing Right Now ...
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Written by Formerly Fun
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Thursday, 01 January 2009 |
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  And now we continue with our next installment of Formerly Fun's BlogOpera.
When we last left off, the barista and our heroine spent the day at the beach. It was the perfect day, from the packed picnic lunch to the laziness of a day off from the world. But then they entered the real world again ... they got back home. - F. Lawrence Caslin
BlogOpera (pt 10) He pulled the car into my driveway, shut it off and followed me inside without question. I set my bag down, walked back outside and shook the sand from my shoes. I got us both a tall glass of cool water.
"I'm going to go rinse off," I announced as I handed him the water. He took his glass from my hand, sat down on the couch and put his feet up.
I turned on the shower, peeled off my sundress and suit and inspected my skin, making sure I had done an adequate job with the sunscreen. Against the stark, white tile of the bathroom, I looked so dark, adding to the effect my already blonde hair had paled in the sun.
My skin felt warm to the touch but without the heat of a sunburn. I got into the barely warm shower and the water hitting my skin filled the shower with the smells of our day, the combination of sweat, salt and sun. I rinsed the last bits of sand from my body, closed my eyes and let the spray hit my face.
I heard the curtain move and felt Dylan's arms circle my waist pressing his body into the back of mine. I turned around and moved aside so he could rinse off. I poured shampoo on my hands and begun rubbing it into my tangled hair, stiff from the evaporated sea water.
"Here, let me do that," he said and I dropped my arms to my sides and let him work his hands against my scalp, gently scrubbing and working up a lather. He tilted my head back into the stream of running water to rinse the suds from my hair. He looked around the shower trying to find something.
I had bottles of every imaginable size and color crowded around the generous shelves of my tub. If I would have known I was going to have a man showering here, I would have culled it down to a less high-maintenance-looking four or five bottles.
"Which one of these is soap?" he said confused, pointing at the array of probably twenty or so containers.
"These," I said directing him to a cluster of six or seven bottles of what we women call body wash.
"What's the rest of this stuff?"
"Scrubs, bath soak, shampoo, daily conditioner, weekly conditioner, other stuff," I trailed off realizing this probably wasn't making anything clearer to him.
"Why do you have so much of the same thing?" he asked.
"It's not the same," I corrected, "it all smells different."
He grabbed a bottle off the shelf. "Is this soap?" he asked.
"Yes."
He poured a dollop of it into his hands and rubbed them together until he had worked up a handful of foam. He used the soap and his hands to lather and rub me from head to toe
and I stood there like a lazy cat enjoying an affectionate rub down. I rinsed off as he washed himself, too satisfied to return the favor.
I stepped out of the shower and he finished up and turned off the spigot. I handed him a giant, plush, soft towel, one of only two and silently congratulated myself for splurging on the expensive towels. Maybe it balanced the cheap coffee, I thought.
He dried himself off, hung the towel over the cracked, enameled hook on the back of my bedroom door and slipped naked into the crisp, clean sheets of my bed. I had a momentary desire for him to go home. Not that I was sick of him, quite the contrary, part of me just wanted time to relish the last two days, amuse myself going over the details and letting it sink in.
The desire for a private reverie passed and I slid in next to him. He gently nudged me until my back was to him and he rest his body against mine, his breath on my neck. It was not even five in the afternoon but we both fell asleep.
(to be continued ...) |
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Formerly Fun
