New Visions

"Need some eye drops?" she asked almost-innocently.

I stood there, dumbfounded. Diana casually leaned on the kitchenette counter, auburn hair framing her noble features. Her nonchalant eyes belied a certain impishness that showed through in her telling smirk. Wrapped in nothing but a chocolate-brown beach towel, the mood suggested that rather than holding a bottle of eye drops - what was she doing with that, anyway? - everything in that moment would have been the same were she dangling her panties from her delicate hand.

Still attempting to remain gentlemanly - and of course, not too eager - I refused. "I can see just fine," was my measured reply. Of course, my view was blocked by a certain towel, but I didn't want to sound coarse. I must admit that though I said I didn't need anything, I most definitely wanted us together. My glance quickly took in her slight frame: sculpted calves and a fair amount of thigh leading up to the towel's edge; soft shoulders and an inviting bosom and cleavage atop it; her delicate neck and chin, framed by her auburn hair; her toned arms, open and inviting. "Thanks anyhow, Di."

"Well, you need anything, let me know," she said, then slowly walked past me to the one bedroom.

I clenched my teeth and squinted, my mind racing in disbelief at my own lack of action. Here she was, literally a foot away from me, with an open invite to share her bed! Memories of she and me rutting like maniacs years before were still vibrant in my memory, and in truth I revisited those memories often. Particularly now, as I was single once again.

Maybe that's why I didn't want to jump in bed with someone else so quickly, I thought to myself. I began gathering my bicycling clothes, which were piled in a few different places in the small condo. I'd been dumped by a woman I'd been seeing for the past eight months. "Irreconcilable differences," I'll call it. Nothing untoward, no infidelity or anything remotely of the sort. She asked me some direct questions pertaining to the future, and didn't like the sound of my answers, and that was that. In the middle of the night, I took my leave and never really looked back. Glancing at the digital clock on the end table near the leather couch - my bed for the evening - I realized that in about 15 minutes we would have been broken up for exactly one week.

Turning about, my arms full of dirty shorts and t-shirts, I looked to Diana's bedroom door. The frosted glass allowed plenty of light to shine through while still affording privacy. The door was completely closed, and I wondered what might be going on behind that door. Was she already tucked into bed, winding down from the day's sightseeing at the oceanside tourist town? Might she be lying there naked, waiting for a certain, furtive knock at the bedroom door? Could she be as fevered as I was with the sexual tension in the air, one hand nestled between her legs, the other massaging her taut, erect nipples?

Okay Isaac...Dial it back, man.

I shook my head absently.

Regardless, that's pretty much all I was thinking while piling the laundry into the machine. I did my best to ignore my budding erection... What good would it do anyway? I bent down to snatch up one of those odd "detergent pods," the kind that is full of soap, and eventually disintegrates in the wash.

Perhaps I ought to have paid more attention to the tension in my hands. As I fiddled and squeezed the detergent pod with curious interest and not a small amount of frustration, without warning I was assailed by a rather unwelcome spurt of soap directly into my right eye.

"GAH!" I shouted, dropping the detergent pod (hopefully into the washing machine) and raising one hand instinctively to my clenched eye. I made a few steps backward as I rubbed away what I could with the back of my hand. My shoulders found the wall behind me, and at that instant I heard the door open.

"Isaac?" Diana called, concern obvious in her voice.

I answered, eyes still clenched shut. "Ugh, soap in my face, damnit!"

"Stop rubbing, or do you want it to get worse?" she asked, her normal tone returning. I knew and she knew that this wasn't so serious as to require medical attention, it was just an annoyance. Still painful, though.

"Come here," she said. I took a tentative step forward, my eyes still shut. "This way." I felt her hands grasping my wrists, and she guided me forward.

I dumbly followed, and felt the cool rush of air-conditioned bliss in what must have been the bedroom. The haze of light I detected beyond my eyelids must have been from the nightstand lamp. "Kneel here," I heard her say, and my knees found a soft covering on the floor. I heard her bare feet padding across the tiled floor of the bedroom, and the squeal of the bathroom faucet.

"Ah-ah!" She snapped, somehow noticing me reaching up to rub my eyes. "Hands down!"

I sheepishly lowered my hands, eventually wiping the excess soap from them on my pants and shirt. The sound of her padding feet quickly returned, and she lightly - but authoritatively - pulled my hands away from my clothes, wrapping one of them in a warm, damp washcloth. She pressed the cloth between my fingers, massaging my hands to wipe away the soap. One hand being clean, I reached forward, brushing what must have been her thigh, and rested my hand on the downy fluff of the bed's comforter.

She had wiped my left hand, and both seemed clean now. My hands rested on the comforter, and I was kneeling on a soft blanket or pillow of some sort. In front of me, somewhere between my arms, was Diana, gingerly wiping my face clean of the irritating detergent. "I won't even bother asking how

this

happened, Ize."

"Maybe all those petitions I signed against the Dow Chemical company are finally catching up to me," I joked with a sniff. The cloying aroma of the detergent was a bit too much for my already stricken sense of smell, and I sniffed again. I instinctively reached up to wipe at my nose, but stopped when I bumped into what I thought was Diana's knee.

"Hold still, for chrissake," Diana snapped, then in a calmer tone: "Just hold it, hold on." I assumed her concentration was on wiping my face and eyes, and I felt the soft cloth wiping across my eyelids. I reached my hand up again and gently grasped where my hand brushed before: just above her knee.

"Yeah, just hold on a second," she seemed to approve. "And it's not Dow, it's Proctor and Gamble or whatever."

"Okay," I mumbled. After another sniff, my other hand reached up to hold her knee. My fingertips could feel her thigh muscles flexing slightly under my grip.

"Maybe you'll need those eye drops after all," she joked. "Lemme go for a minute," she said. My hands slid down her calves, brushing her ankles, and the sound of her padding feet helped me imagine the short path she had taken to the bathroom. The sting in my eyes - I thought I had only squirted that detergent in ONE eye, damnit - had dissipated somewhat, though I could tell they were both profusely watering. It took every fiber of my being to not wipe them again. I blinked, and in the brief slivers of vision I could see nothing but a blur. I heard the water running again and something splashing in the sink. In a moment, she returned, presumably standing in front of me again.

I felt her grasp my wrist again, and raise my arm until my hand tapped her flesh again. I gripped gently, further up her thigh. "Lean your chin up," she said. I did so, and I felt the thumb and index finger of one of her hands on my chin. My head was turned back and forth slowly.

"Hmm," she intoned, her voice coming from somewhere close to my face. "We'll go with the right one first. You just need to open a little bit when I tell you. It's a bit swollen and red around there, but it doesn't look serious."

Her hand left my face, but the washcloth was pressed to my cheek, still damp and warm. I assumed she had refreshed it during her trip to the bathroom. "Okay, here it comes," she said. Now both of my hands had reached up to clasp softly on to her thighs. "Open when I tell you to, even if it's just a little bit. But open as wide as you can."

I nodded in reply. Her one hand with the washcloth held my head still, chin up. "Right eye," she said. Slowly, my right eye creaked open.

"Open it, ya big baby!" I strained it open as much as I could.

Almost instantly, my view of a nude Diana was washed out by the eyedrops she flushed into my one open eyeball. Once I closed it completely, the washcloth wiped over my ocular and cheek, expertly cleaning any remaining fluids. "You're gonna have to hold still too," I heard Diana say. She gripped my wrists again, and this time slid my hands up her thighs to rest on her hips. Nope, no clothes at all in the way. I realized I was on my knees in a bedroom with a completely naked woman in front of me, my hands resting on her hips. The lights were on, and I couldn't see a damn thing!

"Ahh... Thank you, thank you, thank you, Diana!" I hoped she believed that it was for the treatment of my sore eye. I loosed a breathy sigh as authentic relief was now returning to at least one of my aches.

To rest on my haunches - the legs of an enthusiastic cyclist like myself still need some rest, after all - I scuttled my knees forward, pushing the towel/blanket forward at the same time. I lowered myself to a more restful position, and I could tell from the position of my hands that I was much closer to Diana now. My hands began to instinctively flex and rub along the curves of her hips. My eyes were still closed, but my other senses were on high alert.

She adjusted herself as well, pressing her ankles on the outsides of my knees. Not daring to open my eyes, I could imagine her standing in front of me, legs open, her tantalizing vulva mere inches from my face. I was wondering if my pants would conceal my hard-on adequately, although considering the circumstances the two of us were experiencing an intensely intimate moment and I didn't think she'd be uncomfortable with that in the least. "Now the left one," she said. Apparently at least one of us was still focused on the task at hand.

I dutifully leaned my chin upward, and I could feel Diana shifting her body slightly. The washcloth returned to my face - just a bit cooler this time - and again I could hear her close to my face and feel her breath as she said, "Ready...open."

Both of my eyes opened this time, and although it was a bit blurry, I could discern her auburn tresses spilling over her shoulders, framing her pert breasts and dark aureola. Her gaze was fixed on my one eye being washed, and then a jet of saline spurted into my left eye.

"Agh!" I blurted, forcing my right eye to stay open just an instant longer. Diana's secret smile returned to her face, seeing my one good eye sweeping across her nude form: over the pert domes of her breasts, down her shapely torso, spying the slight tuft of pubic hair between her legs, and finally her protruding labia. My right eye grew wider for a moment, and my hands found new life, stroking her sides gently, but with purpose.

The washcloth was wiping my face again, both eyes closing once more. Teasing, she ruffled the washcloth in my face. I could feel her leaning forward and I was leaning back. My hands lifted from her hips and I instinctively grabbed for the washcloth, and I heard a click, followed by darkness. Diana had turned off the light.

She gripped one wrist, and with her other hand took the washcloth from me. "Up here," she said, and I felt her pulling me forward onto the bed.

~~to be continued~~