"There's so much to do!" Katherine thought as she wiped the sweat from her brow.
There she was, kneeling in the smothering heat of the attic as she stared in disbelief at the many boxes of her husband's things that she put off dealing with for so long. Michael had gone missing the year before when his plane crashed on his way home from the teaching safari where he was honored for his research on indigenous people and human sexuality. In recognition, he was given an honorary plaque, and a professorship at UC Berkeley.
She smiled at the plaque she held in her lap and ran her fingers over his name as if she was somehow touching a part of him still. This was going to be the start of a new life for them; instead, Katherine was forced to try to conceive life without him. With a deep sigh, and a final light kiss on his name, she rose and moved to yet another box of memories. She worked throughout the day – doing her best to hold back the memories, and hold back the tears. When she was done, all of her husband's belongings were packed, wrapped and neatly organized in the vast expanse of their mid-Victorian attic.
Exhausted, Katherine left the attic with nothing on her mind but a glass of wine and a long, fragrant soak in her whirlpool tub. She padded into the kitchen and began stripping off the sweaty shorts and tank top that had absorbed all the effort of the day. As she pulled her shorts down over her long, tanned legs and kicked them into the corner, she thought she caught a glimpse of someone outside the kitchen window.
"What the HELL?" she thought aloud, and leaned over the sink to get a better look. Of course, there was no one.
"Just the trees…I do need a drink!" she muttered, shaking her head and moving to open the refrigerator door.
She grabbed a half-full bottle of wine and a glass in one hand, a few candles in the other and headed to her bath. She lit the candles one by one and turned out the lights. She perched on the edge of the 2 person- tubs she and Michael insisted on having when they moved in. As she started running the water, fragmented memories of their shared baths flashed through her mind. She raised her face to the mirrors surrounding the tub and took in the image that greeted her.
She was still very young. She was 27 when Michael disappeared. Her skin was still soft and firm. She and Michael had always been active, and that didn't change when he left. If anything she turned to any form of exertion she could take to get her mind off things. She lifted her tank top over her head and really looked at her naked body for the first time in a very long time. Her breasts were firm and round. "The kind you want to hold all day!" Michael would say, she remembered with a smile. She missed the way his tongue would play over her nipples, and the way he would give them a gentle tug with his teeth. In response to her memory, her nipples became very erect to the point of aching. She tried to wipe the image of his mouth on her body away, but she hadn't made love to another man since he left. Once started, she rarely could stop herself without satisfying her body's needs.
As she stepped into the steaming bath, she realized that despite the warm water, she knew she was already wet. She reached up and released her long, dark tendrils to cascade down her back in silken waves. She lowered her body into the warm water and felt the whirlpool jets caress her flesh; infusing their warmth into her. She settled back and closed her eyes.
With the fingertips of one hand she began tracing her high brow; leaving little droplets of water running down her face. She traced her high cheekbones, and defined the elegant curve of her chin, and the sleek hollow of her throat. With her other hand she gently caressed the mound above her cit – teasing herself by barely brushing by, but not touching it.
Again she saw his mouth on her. His lips leaving light kisses on her belly as he made his way down to pleasure her. She watched as he grinned and his tongue stretched out before leaning forward to taste her. At that moment she thrust her fingers onto her clit and pinched her aching nipple with the other hand. She gasped as bolts of pleasure moved through her. Her clit was hard and her body opened to her as she reached her fingers deep inside. Her moans echoed off the vaulted ceiling intensifying her pleasure - building the warmth inside her as she writhed. Her fingers worked furiously, pumping deep inside her as her thumb kept pressure on her clit. Building and building, her passion erupted as she arched her back and her body spasmed as her orgasm shook her.
When Katherine finally opened her eyes and looked around she saw how carried away she had been. Water was in puddles all over the floor. She covered her face playfully and laughed. As the water started to cool she rose up and turned off the whirlpool. She poured herself a glass of wine and strode dripping wet into the bedroom. Even though it was dark it was still hot, and so was she. Her hand didn't seem quite enough tonight. She walked to the French doors to the balcony and flung them wide. She stood, silhouetted by the dim light streaming in from the hall, transfixed by the beauty of the rising full moon.
