"I smell this and get relaxed?"
She put her wine glass down and clasped her hands in her lap, warming to her subject. "You feel relaxed because lavender triggers the release of serotonin, a neurochemical that makes you feel good. I've added ylang, which makes you slow down and get sleepy."
While she spread the sheet on the floor, he finished stripping down, including his shorts. It was impossible to hide how much this turned him on. "We manly types are always ready to serve," he joked, giving her an apologetic glance.
"You manly types better lie down on your stomach and be quiet," she threatened, while she warmed some oil with her hands.
He complied, lying with his head on the small pillow she'd found, sighing his satisfaction as she straddled his hips, on her knees. Using the weight of her body, she began stroking his muscles from the base of his spine to his shoulders, recalling massages she'd had. He groaned.
"Oh, poor man. Your muscles are all knotted. I'm going to use my knuckle for pressure on each knot. I want you to clear your mind and focus as I press hard. Visualize it loosening and stretching out. Concentrate. Tell your body to fix this. Ah. There. Did you feel it release?"
"Yeah. The pain is fading."
"We're going to keep doing that until we're rid of all this tightness." She worked on him for the next half-hour, until he was limp, his eyes closed, and almost asleep. Quietly, she rose, took off her clothes, and returned to kneel beside him, totally naked.
"Roll over," she commanded, praying she had the confidence to carry this through.
He would never get violent with her, no matter how aroused he became.
The new Lynn believed this absolutely.
Smiling confidently, she said, "This part's for me."
He opened his eyes, rolled onto his back, and stared at her.
"I want to touch you all over, show you with my hands how much I love you. I want to go slow." Her voice shook as passion started to build. "Can you keep still and allow me?"
"Baby, I don't know. I'll try. Those beautiful breasts are pure temptation. I want to hold them."
"Later," she promised, as she started with his forehead and moved her fingers over his face, exploring all the hollows, kissing him gently as she went. Her lips caressed his ears while her tongue gently licked the hollow under his lobe.
"Woman, you're killing me."
"David, I love you," she breathed, as her lips explored the hollows in his neck.
Warming more oil in her hands, she smoothed it slowly over his chest, pausing to rotate her palms on his hardened nipples.
"Lynn." His voice sounded an agony of arousal.
"Shush, darling. Let me love you."
Warm hands traveled under his arms and down his sides, returning to smooth his flat stomach, much as she remembered him doing to her on the boat. Playfully, her finger prodded his navel, massaging it; on a whim, she stroked it with her tongue.
He jumped. "No fair," he gasped. "Ticklish."
"How about this?" She cupped his scrotum, holding both sacs, gently smoothing the oil over them with her thumb.
He groaned. "I hurt. I can't hold back."
Fascinated, she watched as a drop of semen oozed through the tiny hole in his penis. She wanted to taste it. She'd read about this. Could she? Her tongue licked, tentatively. Wondering if she could take him into her mouth, she contented herself with just the tip between her lips.
"Lynn." It was a cry of agony. David reared up frantically, goaded beyond control, grabbed her hips, raised her over his erection, and brought her down, hard, filling her with one powerful thrust. Immediately, he poured into her, writhing with the force of his climax.
He was groaning and shuddering, holding on to her like a lifeline.
Laughing delightedly, she tightened her pelvic muscles, getting another moan from him. "I did good, huh?" she asked. His pleasure empowered her.
"Jesus, woman," he said, panting, barely able to talk. He took a moment to calm the spasms still rushing through him. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. You didn't get anything from this."
Leaning forward now that she could feel him relaxing inside her, she said, "This isn't about me or about me being satisfied. This is about me loving you. I got wonderful satisfaction out of it. Seeing you like that was thrilling beyond words."
"Well, it damn near killed me. Marry me soon. I need to be with you, Lynn."
"I love you, David. Let's go upstairs where I can show you how much."
"Not with Sarah in the next room. We can't do that, Lynn. Not if we want to set an example for her."
She nodded, showing him she understood. "We can be together at my house. I'll be home Wednesday until three. I'm meeting Sarah and Logan at the store after school to work on the perfume. Come over in the morning."
"Friday I'm going to be at the Humane Society Thrift Shop, working on outfits."
He thought a second. "What time do you have to be in town, at the store?"
"Violet opens for me, so about eleven."
"Good. I'll see you at your house. Come for breakfast, Monday. Sarah leaves for school at seven-thirty."
She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "I'd love to."
"Lynn, I hate this. The rings will be finished in two weeks. I don't want to wait any longer."
"Yes, but I have something to ask." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Would you settle for something small? Sarah could be there, and Logan if she wants to invite him. Neither of us have families."
"You really don't want a traditional wedding?"
"David, weddings trigger all sorts of unpleasant memories for me. If I could, I'd get married over the phone. My friend has an elegant Victorian Bed and Breakfast Inn. She does small weddings from there all the time."
"So be it, sweetheart. Set it up. Make the calls."
She had been dressing while they talked. When she finished, David walked her to her car, gave her a gentle kiss goodnight, and sent her on her way.
~ * ~
The following week, the breakfasts became interludes of discovery. Lynn learned to trust David when he opened his heart to her and encouraged her to do the same. They confided silly things: his fondness for comic books, and her wish to ride on every merry-go-round in the world.
They played together, a revelation to David, who almost never wasted time doing silly things.
Lynn gave David a manicure; he painted her toenails. She gave him a facial and trimmed his sideburns; he shaved her legs, an exercise in patience, because she was ticklish and giggled.
Through it all there was the loving—sometimes tender and occasionally ferocious as they explored the boundaries of passion, knowing that this was the happiest either of them had ever been.
Friday afternoon, Lynn was hard at work at the Humane Society thrift shop an hour before Sarah, Karen and Emily arrived. She'd discovered that being around teenagers lifted her own mood. They were a great group of girls.
The recent mornings with David brought home to her what she had missed by not having a marriage and children. She wanted a kitchen full of friends having milk and cookies, a living room full of boys watching a football game with their dad, and the closeness of sharing triumphs and defeats with her own family.
Ah, David. How much she loved him lived in her mind. His image made her glow with a happiness her friends had been noticing. She would spend the next day, Saturday, with him and Sarah, confiding in Sarah, asking her blessing, and making final plans for the simple marriage ceremony.
It won't be long until I have people to care for.
"Where does it all come from?" Karen stood in the doorway of the resale shop with Sarah and Emily, staring in amazement. Lynn laughed at the disbelief on their faces. The wealth of donated clothing piled in enormous heaps on several tables, and hanging on racks, left barely enough space to squeeze through.
Karen held up a skirt from one of the piles. "This is awesome."
"You've never been here before?" Sarah looked at her in amazement. "I thought everybody bought stuff from here."
"I don't buy much of anything," Karen told her. "I have a lot of nieces and cousins that outgrow things. I often look like I buy all my clothes here, but I don't."
"In Wisconsin we call it re-saleing, and everybody does it," Emily said. "You can get some great stuff that way."
Sarah smiled a welcome at Lynn. "I'm glad you came. I didn't expect you here."
"I couldn't resist seeing what you girls would come up with."
"As long as you're here," Sarah said, with a sly smile, "I'll make the announcement." She paused for effect. "Dad and Lynn are getting married real soon."
Amid squeals of delight, Lynn said, "You're not supposed to know that yet. So much for keeping secrets. We were going to finalize plans tomorrow and then tell everybody about it."
"Yeah, well I think Dad wants everybody to know so you can't change your mind." Sarah walked over to her and gave her a hug. "I'm so glad, Lynn. I'm going to like having you as family."
"Oh, honey, me, too." Lynn was going to cry if she didn't change the subject.
"Come on, we have a lot of stuff to sort through and I'd like to have this pretty well settled before we leave tonight. The things sent from Wisconsin and Chicago are in here."
Lynn led the way to the 'intake' room where boxes of clothing sat on the floor: books, tableware, dishes, lamps, even several old typewriters on tables shoved against the walls.
"I didn't know enough people lived here to donate all this stuff," Karen said.
"They don't," Lynn replied. "Visitors save their stuff all year to bring when they come on vacation. We even get new clothing from retail stores. It's been like this for the whole twenty years I've been here. You can find almost anything."
"I can believe that," Emily held up a bright red feather boa. "This has got to be good for something." She wrapped it around her shoulders and struck a pose.
Sarah pointed to a large carton on the floor with a UPS label and a Milwaukee return address. "Let's see what our boxes have, first." She grabbed one end; Karen took the other and they hefted it onto a table.
With a box knife, Emily eagerly slit the tape. "My friends said most of this comes from the relatives of a woman who had died at the age of ninety. She must have saved everything. They said there are some fancy dresses here from the twenties."
Sarah lifted one out of the box and held it against her. It was a beaded tunic with an underskirt. The sleeveless bodice was covered with shades of tiny, green, glass beads embroidered in a paisley pattern. The skirt, of uneven layers of pale green chiffon, reached just beyond her knees. "This is way too cool. If there's more vintage stuff in here, I think we should pick three for prom dresses. Everybody's wearing vintage."
"Emily, this color, and your red hair would be great together." Sarah held up a green beaded cloche. "I think this goes with it."
"These beads make the dress weigh a ton," Emily said.
"Those are called bugle beads," Lynn explained. "Very popular in the twenties. They have to be sewn on by hand. Only the most expensive clothes have them. Sequins are much cheaper. They can be sewn by machine."
Karen held up a dusty rose satin sheath with spaghetti straps. "I love this color, but I have such bony shoulders, I'd look pathetic wearing it."
Lynn studied her pensively. "You know, I was scouting around before you all got here. I think we might have a gown that would be perfect for you in another room. It's an iridescent burgundy satin sheath, sleeveless with a low back and a mandarin collar. The skirt has a drape in the back, like a bustle, with a short train. It's in the workroom where the volunteers are pricing jeans. Tell them I said you should try it on."
Karen left the room while Lynn, Emily, and Sarah continued sorting through the party dresses.
"It's hard for me to keep focused on the clothes," Sarah said. "What will all this work matter if I get sent to jail?"
Emily looked at her with sympathy. "You can't think about that. It'll make you crazy. Hey, catch this."
She held up a sleeveless, beige colored sheath of a sheer, glittered material. "Oh, wow, this looks like the flapper dress I saw somebody wearing in a teen life magazine. You'd look great in this, Sarah."
The lower half of the skirt was covered with amber, red and orange bugle beads in tiers of scallops.
"Boy, they sure liked these beads back then. This will come just below your knees." Emily held it against Sarah, admiring the color. "You'd look good in this because your hair is blonde. I think this goes with it." Emily held up a small, helmet-shaped hat covered with the same beads.
Lynn laughed. "Your hair is still so short, with that dress and the hat you'll look like one of those women who went to speak-easies and danced the Charleston. You need a foot-long cigarette holder and a fox fur coat to drag behind you."
Sarah laughed with her. "In Eureka Springs? With all our environmentalists? I'd be run out of town for smoking and wearing fur."