chapter 3

...she seemingly floats along as if carried by a non-existent breeze.

Finally the path opened onto a secluded glade, not much larger than the one surrounding the pond he has just left....minutes ago? Hours? Miles? He had lost track of time and distance altogether. Thick tufted grass and tightly cropped bushes fringed the glade, huge majestic redwoods towered overhead, appearing to lean in and shelter the small cottage centered within, now lit by a single shaft of moonlight. The quaintly thatched roof was a crazy quilt of odd gables, gleaming dully in the silver light. The leaded windows glowed with a golden light and a thin, pungently aromatic wreath of smoke spiraled over it all.

The door swung open on its own as she neared the cottage, silhouetting her as she stood in the opening, waiting for him. That's interesting, he thought. But then the backlight displayed every curve of her stunning body as if she were completely naked, her strong shoulders, the curving sides of her full breasts, rounded hips, and the gleaming triangle of her womanhood between her thighs.

The door was quickly forgotten.

She turned into the cottage, he obediently followed. It is a warm and quiet place, quaint and picturesque. Homespun yet artistic. Natural elements become home furnishings. Then she is behind him helping him remove his jacket. Again he feels her fingers on him, almost as though she is sampling his body. No, I am imagining that. And a quick frown gives him an impression she is unsatisfied with what she feels. Or disappointed, that is probably it...his body is one he knows women often find disappointing.

She gestures into the next room...."bathe and change" she spoke musically. "There is a robe on the bed for you. Bathe and get warm and I will have a special meal waiting for you." Obeying, he stumbled tiredly into the other room and began shedding his clothing. Adjoining he spied a large bathroom, already fogged with warm scented steam, centered with a huge cast iron tub full of hot water mounded with soap suds. Stepping into the warm enveloping heat...feeling it on his body... god yes he sighed into it with a deep sigh of pleasure. His eyes closed, he heard a soft rustle of fabric and then a warm soapy cloth sliding along his neck and soft chest.

Startled he jerked away, only to realize that she is kneeling next to the tub washing him. He has momentary internal struggle, his surprise and fear of being so vulnerable flaring briefly until he willed himself to relax and give himself over to her care.

The kerosene lamp overhead is set low, haloing her head, her golden tangles of hair swaying over him. For some reason he does not feel uncomfortable with her touch as she cleans him, humming. She seemed to take her time, carefully washing his flaccid, out of shape body...and despite the uniqueness of the experience feels himself not getting aroused, but calming him, yes...this normal, it happens all the time doesn't it. She is not going to hurt you.

His fears melted away under her touch. Her hands moved over him, soaping his slack belly and between his legs, careful with his manhood, almost clinical as she cleansed him, as an almost disinterested nurse. Did he feel her squeeze his manhood briefly?...no, he wasn't sure if he had felt correctly. But...