May 23, 2006
Fiction
Quick Trips Home
I can still make out her scent. I close my eyes and smell the sweet fragrance of her neck, her hair, her face. I know it’s only my imagination. There is no way for her scent to remain on me, not physically. My own hands have not touched her in four long months. Sure, we’ve communicated and I’ve even called her a few times from the ship, but it’s not the same. I need to feel her warm skin under my lips. I need to feel her body quiver beneath mine. It will still be at least another two months before the ship returns home, but I will have her again, soon.
The loud, piercing sound of the whistle twists into my brain like a rusty nail. It’s projected to all compartments of the ship through a speaker system that makes it impossible to escape. I hate living on the ship. This particular blow of the whistle signals the beginning of a new day for most of the other sailors onboard. For me, it tells me my shift is over and I can go to bed, and to her. The sailors assigned to the next shift report for duty and I quickly tell my counterpart of the inactivity, boredom and series of insignificant events that made up my hours on post at the bridge. He quickly lets me go and I rush to my stateroom. I will be there soon, my love, my Natasha.
•
Natasha prepared everything just as her aunt had taught her. The four candles had to be placed equidistant from one another and at least one foot away from the bed, where a black baseball cap lay on a single, large pillow. The tonic was prepared and ready to be mixed in with the tea.
The doorbell to the apartment rang and Natasha rushed to the front door. A quick look through the peephole confirmed that it was Steve, ready as ever to please her while her husband was deployed overseas. She smiled broadly as she opened the door and let him in, but when he leaned his head forward, Natasha shifted her face and allowed only a kiss to her cheek.
“Oh, come on. After all we’ve done. I figured . . .” Her finger pressed against his lips to enforce his silence.
“I’ve told you what the rules are. You said you were OK with it. That’s the only way this will work. Now, do you want to do this or not?” Natasha asked in her Russian accent as she let her cleavage show through the top of her black see-through nightgown. Steve stared at her bountiful chest and nodded his head. He was already stiff from the anticipation of things to come.
Natasha smiled up at him, “Good. Now let’s drink some tea.”
•
My stateroom is little more than a walk-in closet I share with three other men. We all have some personal effects displayed in out little corners. Mine is filled with pictures of my Natasha and me together. I volunteered for the night shift, so I would be free during the day, free to see my wife. Because of the time difference, the early morning for me is still the evening for her.
I take a cup of hot tea I brought with me from the mess and I place it on my tiny desk as I retrieve one of the small bags of powder my Natasha gave me before we sailed. I pour the powder into the cup and I stir. I look into Natasha’s eyes as I stare into the picture taped to the wall in front of me. She’s so beautiful. Her dark hair and light green eyes call to me. I feel like I’m sinking into a deep pool of clear, warm water. I never want to come up for air.
The noise of the spoon clanking on the sides of the cup pulls me from the temporary trance. I never put much stock on the gypsy recipes and hexes Natasha’s aunt taught her, until she proved me wrong. There is so much about life that I can only understand through her. How desolate and stale the world I knew before Natasha seems now. There was no surprise to my existence anymore, no wonder, no magic. Now we have all those things, together.
I blow on the tea to not burn my tongue and I start drinking. The black baseball cap, one of two she bought for me, lays on my pillow. The time is coming. I’ll see you soon my love, and more than see.
•
Steve lay on top of a bed surrounded by candles and wearing a black baseball cap. He had thought it strange the first time, but if the Russian girl wanted to get kinky that was fine with him. That’s why he didn’t complain when she handcuffed his wrists to the pillars of the headboard. The tea was making him sleepy, as it always did, but he knew that his patience with Natasha’s eccentricities would pay off. Every time he awoke after a night of passion in her apartment, his body was completely satisfied and he remembered every moment of ecstasy he had been in the hours before, but strangely, it all seemed as if it happened in a dream.
Natasha lay next to him on the bed, still in her nightgown. She ran her fingertips up and down his naked body, exciting him exponentially every time she did so. With her other hand she kept his eyes covered leaving him in virtual blindness.
She whispered into his ear, “Relax. I’ll take care of everything. You just need to lay back an enjoy it.”
Steve did relax. It was a familiar game, one they had played at least eight times before, yet he protested, “But I’ll just fall asleep again.”
“I always wake you up when it’s time. We always please each other until we climax, and you do make me climax all the time. Don’t you remember?”
“Yes, I guess . . . Yeah I do.”
Steve’s voice began to trail off as Natasha continued to run her fingertips up and down his body. This was the worst part of the process for her. She knew Steve was a pig, but the guilt from the deception she put him through still weighed on her like a truck. That was not the worst feeling, though. The deep hole inside her stomach she felt like she was sinking into came from knowing that, no matter what the reason, she was touching and being touched by a body that was not her husband’s. Even in the dim candlelight, she could still make out the larger belly, the narrower shoulders, and the lighter skin. It all felt different to her touch too. It made her feel like a whore, but she knew the reward would be more than worth the price. It was all for her love, her husband, her Victor.
•
I’m so anxious I can barely force myself to close my eyes and control my breathing. I know the tonic I drank with the tea is supposed to make me sleep, but I can’t help worrying that something might go wrong. I pull down on the baseball cap for the fifth time to make sure it fits snuggly on my head. Even if someone tries to wake me up during the trip, they won’t be able to because of the tonic. I just hope they won’t remove my cap. That could mean some very bad news, although what exactly Natasha wasn’t able to say. She’d never seen the transference work in real life, not until we started doing it from the ship.
My eyelids are starting to close on their own. I momentarily wake up in a panic and double check everything to make sure it’s all set up the way it’s supposed to be. I’m well within the time window we discussed, the cap is still firmly on, everything looks right. The more elaborate preparations all have to be done on her end. I hope everything’s gone well. There are so many ways this could go wrong. We’ve been so lucky so far, so lucky.
My eyes close themselves slowly. The room is cold and dark. The rocking of the ship on the ocean lulls me to sleep like when I was a baby in my mother’s arms. I feel myself drifting away. I’m drifting towards her, towards my Natasha.
•
The sounds change. I feel different. I smell candles burning. My arms are not on my chest anymore. They feel heavy and my wrists; there is a dull pain on my wrists. It worked. I try to open my eyes, but something soft and warm keeps them closed. It smells of scented soap. It’s her hand. I feel her fingertips running down the length of my naked body. No, not my body, it’s his body, but not at the moment.
“Natasha,” I say with Steve’s voice. Both her hands move away and I see her for the first time. Even in the dim, dancing lights of the candles, she’s beautiful. Her dark hair highlights her face and makes her green eyes glow from within the dark frame of her long eyelashes. She looks at me, wide-eyed. Her look is serious. She’s not sure it worked. She’s not sure who I am. “It’s me. It worked.”
Her eyes relax and a smile comes across her face. Her hand moves up to my cheek and she caresses it with her thumb as she looks deeply into my eyes. There is still some hesitation there. She wants to make sure she’s not being tricked. That’s my girl.
“Ti moya shena ee ya tebya loobloo.” As smart as Steve thinks he is, he doesn’t know any Russian. Now Natasha’s sure and her lips meet mine right away. Her kiss is rough and violent. Her warm tongue slips into my mouth and I meet hers with mine. Her mouth tastes like strawberries. My arms instinctively pull forward, but the sharp pain on my wrists remind me of the handcuffs.
Natasha hears the handcuffs scrape against the pillars of the headboard and hurriedly pulls away, apologizing under her breath. She reaches the keys on the nightstand next to the bed and begins to uncuff me. I can see her breasts heaving under her black, see-through nightgown, my favorite. One hand comes free and I put it on her hip. The other comes free and I pounce on her, wrapping my arms around her body and kissing her deeply. Her hands go to the back of my head and massage my hair as she kisses me back. The baseball cap falls to the floor, but we won’t need that one again for a while.
I maneuver Natasha to the foot of the bed and I lay my body on top of her, careful to shift the weight so I don’t hurt her. I feel heavier than I should. Steve should go on a diet. Our kissing slows as my hand moves up to fondle her. I feel her large firm breasts under the nightgown’s fabric. Her nipples are erect. My other hand works its way under the nightgown from the bottom and caresses her soft thigh up to her panties. She squirms as I press my hand against her warm pubic mound. She’s wet there and she pulls me closer as she moans and violently gyrates her warm tongue in my mouth again.
I pull away and pull myself up to look at her. Her eyes seem surprised and worried at first. She momentarily forgets I’m using someone else’s body and I see a tiny panic shoot across her eyes, but in a moment it’s gone. It’s strange for the both of us, but that doesn’t stop me. I pull down on the straps of her nightgown, exposing her beautiful chest. She’s sweating and panting now, waiting for me to strike again, and I do. This time my lips go to her erect nipples as my hands gently squeeze her breasts. She squirms again and pulls me in as she closes her eyes. It’s easier for her to remember it’s me that way. I suck on her nipples, then lick and lightly nibble her breasts while my hands massage them. I look up at her and she smiles in between biting her lower lip, eyes still closed.
Suddenly, she pushes me away and flips me to my side. She takes off her nightgown and panties. Now she’s next to me completely naked, looking into my eyes as they explore every curve on her. She leans her head closer to mine and whispers, “Take me now. I can’t wait any more.”
I can’t believe I keep forgetting how sexy her voice is when she whispers. Her accent is like frosting on a cake that’s already sweet and moist to the taste. I lay on top of her and let her slowly guide me inside. Warmth engulfs the tip, then the shaft. She bites her bottom lip again. I put my hands on the sides of her face and kiss her as I work my way in deeper. Her hands go to my hip and guide me out, then in again. She moans and turns her face to the side, eyes closed.
I pull out until only the tip remains, and then I push in as deep as I can. She moans louder as her hands go to my buttocks and she squeezes. I push in and out leaning into her as I move, her moans matching my strokes. My hands find her breasts again as I move my head and start kissing her again. She moans into my mouth as we continue to gyrate our bodies and tongues in unison.
I slow after a while to let her catch her breath. She whispers again, “Take me from behind.” She always liked that position, but it works better for her now since she doesn’t have to look at me — at him — at all.
I pull myself up as she turns around and gets up on her knees and elbows. I come up behind her and she guides me inside again. I pass my hand lightly across her firm buttocks and I give them a soft squeeze as I push deeper inside her, slowly. She begins to moan again. I put my hands on her hips and I guide her vigorously back and forth. Her moans soon turn into cries, then screams of passion. She drops from her knees to her stomach with the forward momentum of my thrusts. Her hands grab the edge of the bed and she buries her head in the sheets as I push myself in as fast and as deep as I can. She’s trying not to scream, but I can still hear her through the sheets and the mattress.
I grab her hair and lightly pull it so I can turn her face. She’s biting her lip again, but still moaning. I can feel the soft flesh of her buttocks against my abdomen as I push deep inside her. I thrust faster and faster until she can no longer contain her screams. I feel myself release and I give her one final, deep push. She moans and squeezes the edge of the bed with a strength I didn’t know she had left.
We stay as we lay from the orgasm catching our breath. I brush hair away from her face and kiss her on the cheek. She smiles like a little girl, eyes still closed. I feel exhausted. I can’t sleep yet, though. I lean to her ear and whisper, “I love you. You are the best.”
Eyes still closed, she answers, “You’re the best. I love you too. Just come home soon. I miss you. I miss all of you. I miss your body, your voice, your smell.”
A warm feeling spreads from inside my chest when she says this. I answer, “I know. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
After we stay like that for a few more minutes we finally work up the energy to pull ourselves up. We take turns getting cleaned and come back to bed. Natasha is dressed in a modest set of pajamas and I put Steve’s underwear and pants on. Then I put on my black baseball cap and make sure it fits snuggly. I lay down next to Natasha and we hold each other.
She whispers again to me, “Good night. I love you. Please come home soon.”
“I love you too. Good night.”
After a few moments, she looks into my eyes again and says, “I don’t want anyone else but you. You know this, right?” Her voice quivers and her eyes are moist.
“I know, baby” I reply. “I’ll be back in a couple of months. We won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
She buries her face in my chest and I hold her tight. I want to stay like this forever, but I know it won’t last. The candles will burn themselves out soon. Exhaustion is catching up to me. I close my eyes and I know that when I open them again I’ll be back on the damned ship, alone. This is when I really feel jealous of Steve, when I think of him waking up next to her. I know it will take all my moral strength not to kill him when I come back. I try to remain aware of all I can sense as I drift to sleep. I want to keep feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. I want to keep smelling her scent, the sweet fragrance of her neck, her hair, her face.
• • •
was born and raised in Ponce, Puerto Rico until he left at the age of fourteen to attend Culver Military Academy in Indiana. After graduation he moved on to study modern languages at Florida State University where he met his wife. They now live in North Carolina where they have their hands full with two small children.
