The Boy Next Door (54 page)

Mary carried in several buckets of water from the well, sloshing a decent amount down the front of her thin cotton dress despite her efforts to be careful.  By the time she had filled the tub, her wet dress clung to her curvy form and left very little to the imagination.  She tried to hold it away from herself but it did not help.

She stood to one side, clutching at the wet dress while Thomas undressed for his bath.  She demurely averted her eyes since he left the bedroom door wide open as he prepared to bathe.  The man apparently had no sense of decorum.

“I’m having a hard time with my back.  You are going to need to come in here and bathe me,” he ordered.

Her mouth gaped open in a small “O” shape. 
Bathe him?  What on earth made him think that was okay?  I would not even dream of bathing my husband.

“But…but I… But I need to start dinner, sir.”

“That can wait until we are finished in here.  Get in here and help bathe me.”

Mary looked down at her translucent wet dress, up at the open doorway, and back down at herself.  She took several hesitant steps towards the door.

“Get in here woman!” he thundered, louder than those hoof beats.

She peered around the door at the naked man in the tub.  “But, sir…”

“No buts, save my own!  Come here.”

She walked to the tub, trying to focus her eyes on the floor, the walls, anywhere but at the man in the tub.  She had never even looked at George naked.  Let alone this strange man before her.

He smirked at her as she snuck up to the tub.  His lips drawn up on one side, leering at her disheveled attire and nervous face.

“Never seen a naked man?  I thought you were married.”

“I am.  But I never…”

“Well get used to it.  No point in me going down to the house in town to get bathed when I have you right here.”

The house in town?  Oh, surely not…  Surely he did not mean…  Oh heavens, am I in a state of madness, or trouble?

He lifted the washcloth from the tub, revealing the rest of himself clearly under the water.  Her eyes widened involuntarily.  She tried to look away but could not drag her eyes from the sight of him.  Even under the cool water, he seemed to be several times larger than what George had ever felt like inside of her.

He looked her dead in the eyes and handed the washcloth to her trembling hand.  She carefully soaked in the water behind him and wrung it out over his back.  He bowed his head forward as she repeated the action.

“That is just rinsing, woman.  Wash.” Thomas handed her a bar of homemade soap.

She lathered it against the wet washcloth and gingerly brushed his back with the soapy cloth.  It was going to be hard to complete the task with her eyes closed or averted.  Her eyes darted around the room for something to hit him with, but all she found were blankets and pillows on the bed.  She sighed and looked down at him.

His shoulders seemed as broad at the entire bath tub, narrowing down to a slim waist somewhere under the water.  He obviously spent a good deal of time outdoors without his tunic, judging from the even, tan tone of his skin.  His dark hair curled at the nape of his neck, trying to hide a rather nasty looking scar.  She was terrified to look at anything on the front half of his body.

When she had scrubbed his back to his satisfaction, he leaned back to lie against the rim of the tub, giving her no choice but to get a full view of the front half of himself.

She had never been so insulted in her life.  All of the years George had used her body as a whipping post and as a whore, but she had never had anyone so blatantly disrespect her in this manner.

“Sir.  I believe you can wash your own front.”  She held the rag out to him and turned her face away.

“No Ma’am, I cannot.  You have to be thorough.”

“Sir.”  She thrust the rag to him vehemently.  “I cannot.”

She gasped when he grabbed her wrist and dunked her hand under the water.  The sudden movement sideways threw her off balance and she had to turn towards him and clutch at the rim of the tub.  Unfortunately, this particular position placed her full breasts right at his eye level and her dress was once again splashed into translucency.

He guided her hand to his chest, still holding the wet soapy cloth.  “Start here.”

She tried not to make eye contact as she performed the task, especially when he would move her hand just a few inches further down.  Then another few inches further down.  His chest felt as solid as a stone wall under her hand.  And his skin was warm when her fingers would brush up against him.  He smelled like grass and horses which was not altogether an unpleasant smell.  Certainly better than the whiskey or wine that George always breathed on her.

He purposefully placed her hand on his upper thigh and she gasped.  “Sir?”

“Thorough.  Remember?”

“But…”

“No buts about it.  Thorough.”

As she washed his legs under the water, she had to constantly lather the soap again since the water quickly ate away at the bubbles.  She could feel the hardness of his thighs and calves even through the washcloth.  If she had allowed herself to think such things, he was quite a good looking man.  But she had no explanation as to the warmth that seemed to have seeped into her veins, heating her body from the inside.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she finished the second leg.  But as she withdrew her hand from the water, he grabbed her wrist again.

“I said thorough.  You forgot something.”  He leaned back against the rim of the tub again, crudely bending and spreading his legs.

“Sir!  No!  I cannot!  I refuse!”

“You are in no position to refuse.”

“
You
are in no position to ask such things of me.”

He smirked again, knowing that a tiny portion of that statement was true.  She almost had the upper hand, given his vulnerability in that state in that position.

He tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled the hand, and its cloth, back down.  “I said thorough and I meant it.”

Her breath came faster which caused her breasts to rise and fall just at his eye level.  She pretended not to notice his eyes watching them.  But she could not avoid noticing that as he watched her bosom, the floating member under the water seemed to lengthen and expand.

“But sir, I’ve never…”

“Surely you have touched your husband.”

“No sir, never.  He simply has his way and leaves the room.”

He soaped the washcloth himself and wrapped it around his member.  He seemed to be washing it and the entire area but his face told a different story.  His eyes stayed on her breasts as he washed himself, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed.  And the longer he washed it, the larger it became.  She had never seen anything like it.  She knew she should not be watching such things but she could not make herself turn away.

That warmth in her veins was starting to bubble a little.  Mary had never felt such sensations inside her own body before.  And she was captivated by the scene under the water’s surface.  The water swirled and dipped around his hand’s movements, hypnotizing her.

After a few minutes, it was several times larger than it had been at the beginning.  She thought for a moment he was actually going to faint since his breath was coming very shallow and quick and his eyes were rolled backwards.

“Sir?  Are you okay?”

“Huh?  What?”  His hand stopped moving.

“Are you going to pass out, sir?  You look faint.”

He sat there in the water, holding on to his cock, and saw the earnest expression in Mary’s face.  And laughed.  Not a sly mocking chuckle, but a full on belly laugh.

“No woman, I am not planning to faint.  How can you, as a married woman, not have any idea what is going on?”

“Any idea about what?  I thought you were going to pass out like George after too much wine.”

“I may in a minute but we are not there yet.”

“Oh….”

Her eyes dropped back down as his hand started moving under the water again.  She could not tell why he was enjoying this washing that he was doing but it made the hot little bubbles in her veins pop quickly, like water on the stovetop.  Suddenly the man grunted loudly and thrust his hips towards his own hand.  Small white puddles formed in the water.  When he finished, he looked up at her, smiling with a devilish glint in his eye.

“Tomorrow it will be your turn.”

Dinner forgotten, Thomas claimed the bed for the evening while she curled up in one of the sitting chairs in the living space.  Mary was baffled by the entire episode but mostly she was confused by the flow that seemed to be churning inside her body.  And she could not get it to calm back down.

The next morning, she made oatmeal for breakfast for the two of them just like some sort of common farm wife.  How had she gotten herself into this position?  Not to mention what a strange incident that was last night; something told her that it had been grossly inappropriate but a different something told her that it was not altogether unpleasant.  In fact, in a small way, she liked the little bubbles that had formed in her body.

“I am headed to Robert’s house to determine our course of action from here.  I am unsure how long I will be but I strongly recommend that you be here when I return.  You do not want me to have to hunt you back down.”

She nodded, afraid of what could happen if she fled this place.  Any number of men would be after her hide -- George, Robert, and Thomas.

She tried to tidy up the place while he was gone.  But he did not seem to own many possessions so it was not a difficult chore.  She looked in the pantry to see what the options were for lunch and dinner.  Not much, really.  She wished her cook was here, for help and for someone to talk to.  She desperately wanted to ask someone about last night, but who would believe her?

It turned out that Thomas was gone all day.  Mary dozed in the chair a couple of times and wandered around the grass out front.  It felt like a brand-new rug against her bare toes and she wiggled them around in the softness.

She had a simple dinner ready when he returned -- bread and cheese with some ham she heated on the stove.

“See?  You are learning already.  Such a good wife you must be.”

“At home I have a cook.”

“Well not all of us can live quite like that, Ma’am.”  His sarcasm was cutting.

“And do not forget, after dinner, it will be bath time.”

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away.

“I expect that you can finish the job this time, now that I have demonstrated for you.”  His dark eyes glinted and glimmered at her, and he did not even try to hide the fact he was staring directly at her breasts.

After she cleared the table and washed the dishes, she made the requisite trips to and from the well out back to fill the tub again.  He stood naked in the corner, watching as her dress became soaked through again and staring when she bent over to pour the water in.

Her face was flushed, but she did not know if it was from the exertion or the lecherous ogling from this man in the corner.  She had seen more of his physical body in twenty-four hours than she had seen of her husband’s in twelve years.  She did have to admit, however, that it was a much nicer body to have to look at, should she be in the situation of having to look.

He climbed into the bathtub, all the while staring at her face and studying her expressions.  She started with his back again and then his chest.  He felt so much different that George’s pudgy rolls; Thomas was firm and toned and well-muscled.  She felt the same warmth in her veins again, thousands of tiny bubbles popping and prickling places inside her she did not know she had.

She paused when she finished his legs.

“Come now, we said it was your turn tonight.  Be thorough.” He lounged back with his legs drawn and spread, exposing himself fully.

She took a deep breath and wrapped the washcloth over his soft member.  She thought it reminded her of a grass snake, ready to strike.  He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Just make sure you wash it well,” his voice was hoarse.

She rubbed the soapy cloth over it, her petite hand fitting easily around it at this point.  But with just a few motions, it twitched and swelled in her hand.  A few more motions and it swelled further.  It was mesmerizing and she could not help but continue.  The tiny bubbles inside her had turned into larger ones which tickled even more.

After several minutes of washing, her hand no longer fit around it.  She marveled at how hard it was but how soft it felt at the same time.  She glanced up at Thomas’s face.  His lips were parted and his eyes were fixed firmly on her breasts.  The stroking motion of her hand was making them shimmy under her dress and she had never had someone so intent on them before.  George barely took the time to undress her if she was not already naked.

His tongue slid across his lower lip and a large ripple of bubbles tingled at an unknown place between her legs.  His hips started thrusting into her hand, sloshing water over the front of her dress.  Now it clung to her form completely, and he could not stop his large hand from kneading one of them.

“Thomas…”  Her voice waivered, the bubbles inside of her body causing her confusion and discomfort now.