She stood in the shower, leaning forward, hands pressing against the front wall, providing much needed support. Her eyes closed, the showerhead directed at the top of her head, hot water cascading down over her body. She hated mornings; she hated everything about them. Everyone that knew her avoided meaningful interaction with her until after 9:00 am, and those that did not obey this rule suffered a fate worse than death.
She heard the shuffle of the shower curtain and felt the presence of someone behind her. "Good morning," he said.
"Morning," she replied, the word basically falling out of her mouth, and no there was not anything good about it. "What are you doing?" she said. There was no reply. She sensed him moving closer. "It is not going to work," she spit out, hoping to scare him away.
It did not. She felt his hands on her head, massaging her scalp and temples. He was right behind her, their bodies barely touching. He reached up and unhooked the showerhead so it dangled on its hose, spraying into the bottom of tub. He took her shampoo and began to lather up her hair, massaging again as he had done before.
"It still won't work," she mumbled, not much force left in her words, still supporting herself on the front wall of the shower.
He massaged the top of her head, then, with both hands on either side of her head, he massaged back from her temples, behind her ears and down to her neck. He worked his hands back up to her temples, retracing the same route. He reached for the showerhead. Holding it in one hand, he used the other to gently massage and rinse the shampoo from her hair. Once the last of the lather slid down the drain, he began to paint her body with the showerhead.
He aimed the hot water at the base of her neck, and then he swept it from left to right then back again, working slowly out over each arm then back to her neck. He started down her back, lower and lower with each pass. Her eyes still shut; she concentrated on the hot water splashing and streaming down her body, shoulder blades first, then middle back and finally her lower back.
He switched the showerhead to slow massage when he reached her lower back and pointed the streams at the base of her spine and slowly traced her spine up to the base of her neck then back again. Turning back to normal spray, he resumed his painting, spraying back and forth again down over her ass, across the backs of her thighs and calves, down to her feet. Changing to slow massage again, he directed the pulsating streams up and down each leg from the bottoms of her calves to the tops of her thighs. Alternating again to the soft spray, he applied the hot water to her body once more in sweeping strokes, standing up as he did.
The water stopped and was once more spraying the bottom of the tub. Her skin felt alive, her body tingling and slowly coming to life. The soft clean smell of soap reached her as he began to lather up a washcloth. He began to bathe her, starting with her right arm, which, with along with her left, still held up the front wall of the shower.
He rubbed the soapy cloth up her arm to her shoulder then kneaded it back down to her hand, completely covering her arm in rich, aromatic suds. He repeated this on her left arm and then concentrated on her neck and back. She felt the soft cloth slide back and forth over her shoulders, his fingers following close behind, massaging and rubbing, releasing her energy. She tilted her head back, breathing in deep, smelling the fresh clean smell of the soap, her mind following the washcloth lower and lower on her back, punctuated by his dancing fingers. He reached and began to knead and massage her ass as he continued his journey toward her feet. Her right leg was first, the top of her thigh, then behind her knee, lower to her calf and finally her ankle. Now her left leg, starting at her ankle, up to her calf, her knee coming next, all the way up to the top of her thigh. She released the front wall to stand on its own and turned to face him. Her body was awake and alive.
She chose to keep her eyes closed, focusing on the hot steam and the aroma of the soap, breathing in deep. She felt his hand on her face tracing her eyes and nose, then her cheekbones, lips and chin. Next, the soft cloth touched her cheek, small circles applying the lather, the smell so fresh and intense. The circles continued across her forehead then other cheek, then a line drawn down the bridge of her nose and two lines across her chin. He tilted her head back, and gently wiped the cloth over the delicate lines of her neck.
He next washed her chest, just above her breasts, long strokes back and forth from shoulder to shoulder. He held the cloth in the middle of her chest just above her breasts and squeezed it, releasing a rich stream of soapsuds. She felt as the suds slid between her breasts, traveling slowly at first, gravity adding speed. They slithered down her stomach, just to the left of her belly button, hitting the top of her thigh. There the suds slipped between her legs and traveled the rest of the way to the tub floor on the inside of her left leg. He squeezed the cloth again, this time over each breast, depositing a healthy dollop of suds. She felt his hand delicately spread the suds out, his fingers dancing around her already erect nipples. He used the cloth on them as well, massaging her breasts. Her body was tingling again but for a very different reason.