


                                Palindrome
                (Comments are weclome and encouraged)
Liaisons ll (With an apology to PG Wodehouse.)
     He'd waited for her.
     She'd been baking in the mud-a ridiculous way to relax-for two
hours. Alexander had become bored with grown-up talk and taken
to squirting mud by clenching his fist, then his hints at hunger had
prompted another round of indulgences from her mother, leaving them
alone.
      They chatted with the relatives gone; he'd made a show of
hating the mud, protesting that he'd slid in only to please her mother.
When the warrior stood up in the mud bath he made a noise like a
hippopotamus pulling its leg from a swamp. Chagrined, he turned away,
leaving a trail to dry on the stones and turquoise grass.
     He stood in the shower spray watching the water swirl under his feet. 
He dressed slowly, dallying. He realized he was dallying.
 
                                        *
 
     She started at seeing him, obviously distracted and lulled. The
mud-soak had warmed her to the core, she was sleepy and had
planned nothing more than a quick, hot shower-bath before crawling
into bed for a snooze, despite it being mid-afternoon.
     Her eyes widened. She was clothed only in the drying earth to
an uneven line around her shoulders and the steel pins in her hair.
She moved her arms about her trying to decide whether to cover
herself or put her hands on her hips and tell him no. He knelt before
an oyster shell basin with a mound beside him. Water circulated in a
small ledge around the stone shell's lip.
     Deanna gnawed her lower lip while still deciding where to put her
hands. He leaned forward, not rising, and pulled her by her hands
over the water barrier into the empty bath. She kept her back to
him, unsure of what she wanted to do.
     He didn't start at her neck so the water dribbled down and cleared
away the mud faster, but at her heels.
     The water was the same temperature as the mud. The scented mild 
soap bubbled with his gentle rubbing. He touched her back side only:
her calves, the crooks of her knees and the backs of her thighs.
Worf was gently sure not to force the yielding sponge between
her knees. She had her arms bent, her dirty hands pressed against
her lips as though praying. She felt herself responding despite
not being sure what she desired.
     Worf soaped her buttocks; now he touched her deliberately for the
first time--with his fingertips, though, not his hand. Standing, he
dropped the sponge into the water supply and unpinned her hair,
making her hold it up with both hands, dirtying it a little, but not as
much as it would have been had it fallen over her mucky back. He'd trapped 
her into keeping her hands up. He traced a pin down her spine.
     Worf knelt again, reaching around Deanna to wash inside her
legs. He looked at the water turn grey and clear again, bubbling each time 
he wrung the sponge. He soaped her hip bone and missed her loins, moving
to her ribs. Once he was up to her arms and shoulders Deanna was covered 
in bubbles streaked grey with soft mud, looking like a half-hewn marble figure
dissolving in sea foam. He washed her sweaty face, making her 
close her eyes under the soap.
     Deanna still kept her grey back to him.
     Worf soaped her chest, gliding the sponge as lightly as possible
over her breasts. He lowered himself again and reached around,
scrubbing the insides of her thighs, rising slowly until he stood again.
     The Klingon wet the sponge again and lowered it, tracing downwards
from her navel. Worf stroked up and down gently, watching her
breath more and more deeply, rubbing softly, listening to the soap
and water drop to the stone. Deanna slowly tilted her hips to meet
the texture, now hidden behind a froth. Her posture changed, 
like a violin string she tensed sharply.
     And relaxed.
     Deanna widened her footing as Worf sponged her back then rinsed the
 soap from her, caressing her to a second crest.
     He wrapped Deanna in an rough towel, rubbing her pink. Worf twisted 
about her, biting her armpit, leaving a reminding yellow bruise in a stain 
of welts, massaging the pale beauty until she wet the towel and tensed. He 
stepped her into her clothes: her chemise, pants tights, top and wrap skirt. 
Worf kissed her shins when putting on her shoes. They left separately, she 
before him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.


