Chapter 7

Gee’s turn:

Is it okay if I say “Wow!”?

Multiple wows, actually. First wow. Been bumping around with Josh for a few weeks, maybe not as many weeks as some people would think to be adequate for a marriage proposal, but I’m not ‘some people’ and neither is Josh.

Second wow. He wants to marry me. Oh, yes, if you actually looked at a transcript, I sort of MADE him ask me, but he was gonna ask sooner or later.

Third wow. I have been sleeping in the same bed with Josh for weeks. We just DO that. Of late, though, we’ve gone to sleep after a bit of hugging and kissing and if either of us would have gotten a little bit of guts about it, we’d have had sex, but I guess both of us are a bit bashful. Still, both of us, pajama-clad, butt to butt. Or spooned. I absolutely adored being spooned up with him behind me, his arm over me, holding me.

Lots of those spooning sessions, though, I could feel him. Hard. So I knew he wanted me, that he was just too much of a nice guy to try anything. You know what? I wanted HIM to try. He didn’t, though, until we decided marriage was what we expected together.

That brings me to the fourth wow. Sex. Like I came alive. Like up to this point in life, I’d been looking at pictures of mountains and now I’m actually LIVING in them. It’s real, and I could see how somebody might really like this, and gosh, it’s not like the thrills of “oh, this is new and a little bit forbidden” that marked my first experiences, and my husband NEVER took me to the mountaintops like Josh did.

And now he’s asleep beside me. We’re only covered in a sheet, concession to the balmy night temperatures. I can touch him and I know that if I touch him and he awakes, there are no limits, no ‘Oops, sorry. Forgot I wasn’t sleeping by myself’ that have happened several times with us sharing the only bed on this houseboat.

So I touch him. I let my hand trace HIS body. Not one of those chiseled weight-lifter guys, just a pretty well toned male body, my age. He’s got body hair. I’m good with it. There’s still a hint of his cologne. He put it on for my benefit, so I decide to benefit. I wiggle to where I can get my face near the back of his neck, breathe deeply.

He stirs. The noise that gurgles out is not unhappy, so I breathe deeply again and follow with a little nuzzle, then a kiss.

“You’re too solid to be a dream, baby,” he says as he turns to me.

Now THIS is something to snuggle with. Full-blown (well, maybe not just yet) erection. I spread my legs, letting it nuzzle its way against my delightfully tingly labia.

“You know, princess, I could get used to this.”

“I hope so.”

“It’s ... I dunno ... You just seem right.”

“I hope so, Josh. I can’t begin to understand why you got through what all the others didn’t even scratch.”

“Maybe it’s because I wasn’t trying to get through anything. Just sort of happy to have you show up on the first day, and every day since.” He did it again. Said something perfect, then kissed me.

“I’m glad. The way it should be. No angst. No fakery. No production. Two people who fit.” I licked my lips and kissed him. He cradled my face in his hands. During the next kiss I pushed under him, spreading my thighs, opening myself, inviting his hardness to enter me.

I determined that if I left my mouth free, I’d make some undocumented sounds that would compete with the chorus of wildlife on the riverbank, so I hauled his lips against mine, letting him choose the pace. Slow, like not only was he feeling with that rock-hard prong inside me, but that his very skin was savoring mine as we exchanged tongues and breathed sighs into each other.

I’ve always wanted to be made love to, just like this. It’s happening. It’s better than my poor imagination ever suspected.

My whimpers escape. Tears stream from my eyes as I get nearer to oblivion with each mutual stroke. My breath is in sharp gasps. And ... We go rigid. I can hear colors. My senses finally straighten out when he rolls off me. I hang on and find myself on top of him.

“You ... Gee ... Your name NEEDS to be an expletive. Wow.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be all ‘wow’,” I said.

Moonlight streaming in the windows, reflected off the water, casting us in a bluish glow. Perfect.

I know he’s looking. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight and his hands gently trace from my head, down my back, over my buttocks.

“I’m glad you’re who you are, Josh. I know that if I use the word ‘rapture’ in this context, you’ll know what I mean.”

“Transported, my dear. I’ve been transported.”

“Carried away...”

“Among the stars, Gee. You’re beautiful.”

Okay. He’s MINE. I get to play with him, right? “Only because there’s not enough light for you to see good.” Little giggle.

“You ... you’re a beast.”

“I’ve seen how you treat your beasts. I’ll settle for Pickles’ lifestyle.” I wiggled a little. “As long as I get this, too.”

“I lay my riches at your feet, my queen,” he said.

“Don’t say that. Remember, I looked. You actually HAVE riches.”

“Now I have somebody to share them with.”

I slid off him, molded myself to his side. “I love you, Josh.”

We went back to sleep. Alarm clock? Don’t need an alarm clock when you don’t have to meet somebody else’s schedule. Besides, on the river, the sun through the windows ... And the harsh buzz of a couple of outboard powered boats – early fishermen – do well to wake us up.

Modesty requires me to put on some clothes. Well, modesty AND the fact that sunlight would turn my pale skin into something painful. That’s not something I want.

Josh, however ... he putters around inside the cabin, completely naked.

“Somebody’s gonna see you,” I squeaked.

“I’m in my house. They shouldn’t be peeking in the windows,” he countered. “Besides, try it sometime. In the daytime, it’s darker in here and you can’t see inside.”

“Well, that was my first try.”

“What’s your second?”

“You keep running around half erect and naked like that, I will start entertaining ideas of hanky-panky.”

He laughed. “Is that all it takes?”

“You don’t wanna really know, buddy. You, bouncing around the boat in your shorts and T-shirt, you made me have all sorts of lascivious thoughts.”

He smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just what I wear most of the time I’m on the boat.”

“Just so you know...”

He puts pants on to cook breakfast. I’m glad. Since yesterday I have a vested interest in assuring that those bits don’t get hot bacon grease splashed on them. A couple of cheese omelets and some toast appeared. We talked about plans over breakfast. The first step was getting the boat back to the park so I could get my car.

Boat handling is something I’m getting comfortable with. It’s an outlandish craft, a big, floating rectangle with a ridiculous antiquity of an engine. He starts it. It warms up while we tend to singling up the lines that hold us to the trees that define the difference between the river channel and the swamps on both sides.

“Ready, Cap’n?” I heard from outside.

“Cast off,” I said, raising my voice, feeling the little tug as I moved the almost antique propeller control to ‘forward’. He’d explained to me that this setup didn’t have a transmission as such, just an odd variable pitch propeller that could be adjusted for direction.

In a couple of minutes he was in the cabin with me, washing his hands to get rid of the inevitable dirtiness picked up by mooring lines that had spent the night wrapped around tree trunks. Next thing I know, he’s kissing the back of my neck.

“Don’t mess with the helmsman, buddy. I’ll run this thing into the bank.”

““I’ll behave then,” he laughed.

“Well, don’t stop,” I countered. “Just don’t sneak up on me.”

I can pilot quite well while being lightly molested. We moved ourselves to the nav station on the upper deck, putting along, staying to the right side of the river. Only saw a couple more fishing boats. During the week like this, they’re usually retirees who don’t have to be at work. Compared to the almost poetic ‘pocketa-pocketa’ from that old two-cylinder diesel below us, the high-speed grind of outboards is grating.

We’re in a section of the river where one bank is a bluff about ten feet above the water. There are some pretty impressive homes there, most with little docks and boathouses. Somebody’s son is there in the river zooming around on a jet ski.

He zoomed across our bow a little closer than he should, but hey, we’re awfully slow. We have an advantage. We can hear. Behind us, coming from upriver, I can hear another outboard grinding along, still around the bend from us. Same thing from down the river in the opposite direction. We leave plenty of room. The river’s pretty wide here. Still, a lot of traffic for early on a weekday morning.

And it all went wrong. The boat from upriver comes around the bend, sees the jet ski guy, swerves to avoid him, putting him right in the path of the boat from downriver. That guy makes a choice, just a bit too late. His fiberglass fishing boat sideswipes the jet ski, his starboard side rolling the jet ski completely over. Two objects can’t occupy the same space, every action has an equal and opposite reaction, bigger versus smaller, all sorts of high school physics was demonstrated with the first collision.

One of the reactions was that the boat taking the jet ski reacted to the starboard strike by skewing wildly to port, directly into the path of the boat from upriver. T-boned.

Josh spat one word. “SHIT!” and grabbed the mike to the marine band radio, reached to punch the ‘emergency’ button.

“Mayday Mayday Mayday. This is motor vessel Dorable at Cypress Bluff. We’ve just seen a three-boat collision. Bodies in the water. We need help fast,” then to me, “9-1-1 on your cell. We’re at Cypress Bluff on the water. We need...”

“Got it,” I said.

The radio crackled. “Dorable, this is the freshwater locks. We’re relaying your message. What’s your status?”

“We’re good. Two fishing boats and a jet ski ... bodies in the water. We’re visible. Getting ready to render aid.”

“Roger.”

Josh was kicking off his shoes. “Get us over there. I’m going in. Don’t try to get too close.” He swung out on the ladder. “I’m throwing stuff in the water then I’m going in.”

I was already turning Dorable to port and backing off the throttle. I eased a little reverse in, bringing her to a stop. I heard splashes, saw a couple of life rings hit the water near bobbing heads, then the kayak splashed in, floating towards the wrecks.