You might recognize this.
“I think you might recognize this…, Babs. It was once decorating somewhere else on me. Four turns of it so studiously applied, but it takes only three turns, on my wrist. It has to stay loose so that it can easily slip off, where the other one, couldn’t.
"I couldn't leave it where it was and have it seen when I was at university, or was working with my father and brothers.
"Don't mothers tell their daughters to always put clean underwear on, as you never know when you might have an accident and wind up in hospital? Well, that was the same for me. I didn't need this looped around my privates if I was suddenly taken into hospital. It happened once."
She smiled, remembering having tied it under his balls and over his penis, as they’d chuckled over her doing that. They had the photographs to show all of that.
They could still smile over that memory.
“That one never left me either. I just moved it around, as needed. I sleep with that one too, sometimes exactly where it was originally tied, except, I often get too excited when I do that, and think of you, or just remind myself of you when I look at those photographs we took of each other.” I missed you the most at those moments.
He didn’t spell it out when he described about being too excited. She would know what he meant. She'd watched her brothers. Boys couldn't help it, and if they didn't do it for themselves, then they'd have one of those 'wet' dreams, when they ejaculated anyway, in their sleep.
He laughed. “I must sound deranged to you, and even perverted.”
“You don’t. What would that say about me, who encouraged all of that. I often dreamed like that too, and I look at those photographs every day before I sleep, reliving everything we did.”
She touched his head… reassuring him that she didn’t judge anything. They’d learned to ignore what others might think of them, or of wondering what anyone else believed. Others had never known what they’d done. She’d fretted for years, believing that that was why they’d been separated, and why she’d been sent away.
His various responses as they’d talked, told her that she’d been wrong. Everything she’d feared, had never been true, or he would not be here, or like this, or so easily be able to interact with her as he was.
“We have lots of time to talk, Steve. I’m sure you have as many questions as I do, about this big gap in our lives, and why we never seemed able to bridge it.”
She paused, looking pointedly at his underwear.
“They will need to come off you sooner or later. There’s no point in hiding him from me any longer, and you can’t wander the house in dripping underwear, afraid of what I will notice about you that would tell me immediately who you were. I already know.“ She would help him with that. “And we’ll be alone for the rest of the night.” He’d already been thinking about that. It was beginning to show.
“We were never that shy with each other after those first awkward, exploratory, moments, and I didn’t run away in fear of him if you recall, even back then.”
No. She hadn’t. She’d been understanding, complimentary even, though overawed by the size of it, and then had embraced both it, and him without hesitation.
He hadn’t believed it could be possible, and especially not with her being two years older than him and so far above him in every way, but she’d seen something about him… within him… that no one else had seen. He would never be able to thank her enough for that.
But now he’d been discovered. He didn’t mind, now that she knew who he was.
She watched has he struggled to remove his underwear in the bath with his bruised and bloodied hands, both of them, until she helped him remove them, pulling them carefully out from him, revealing the prize behind them, stripping them down his legs and tossing them into the sink.
“Jackpot!” And she really meant it. The real McCoy; that part of him she well remembered, and had dreamt about for the last ten years.
He noticed for the first time that she’d got rid of her top some time before, to stop it getting wet, or splashed, as she’d washed his hair. Her breasts had been easily accessible to him the whole time. He wished he’d known.
She knew what she was doing for him, and she was not in the least bit shy.
“Yep. There he is. My special friend… the big guy. This is what I best remember about you. This, and our kissing, and our conversations as we laid together naked, looking up at the stars and playing with each other, ready for the next time.”
She touched him, holding him delicately at first, just as he’d got used to her doing.
“I remember this, vividly.”
She continued to refresh her memory, getting breathless as she touched him, becoming familiar once more with a cherished memory. She also delved under his balls to free them from between his legs, feeling how everything seemed more substantial than she’d remembered, and with them both, always wanting to find out more about each other.
“But then it was gone. You were gone. I was moved out. All I had left were the memories… and those photographs. And this ring. I don’t think a day went by that I didn’t go through them.”
He’d gone silent.
She looked at him and smiled.
“We’ll talk about it later. I’ll get you seen to first.”
She leaned more over him as she examined down his legs for bruising, feeling his hand, as difficult as it was for him to do anything with it, come up to touch and to hold under her breasts, now that he knew she’d got rid of her top.
Everything was slowly getting back to how it should be.
She leaned over him even more, so that he could touch more of her as she kissed him.
The bath was the wrong place for this.