This choice: You decide to take the bath, it's only polite after all. • Go Back...Chapter #8You decide to take the bath, it's only poli... by: Mr. George   Sakura's nose crinkles, and you take your own sniff. After the 12 hour flight, and the long drive, your clothes smell ripe. The sweat stains in the armpits are wide and wet.
You mouth 'Sorry', to Sakura, who has already pulled out a thick woolly dressing gown for you. She tosses it the dressing screen, to allow you to change privately. It's oddly exhilarating to change with Sakura still in the room. You feel yourself stiffen at the thought, already imaging Sakura equally naked and sharing the room.
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"Once you're in the bath, I can take your clothes." Sakura's words come out in a bit of a flurry. Obviously, she's rehearsed this in her head.
"Yes, they'll need to be cleaned." you confirm.
Pulling the dressing gown down, you're glad it's so warm as you wrap it around yourself, and knot the belt loosely. However, your growing 'excitement' is harder to disguise. The gown has large furry cuffs, that give it a more feminine look than you appreciated, and you hadn't spotted the soft satin lining either. It's clearly a woman's dressing gown, once more thoughts of Sakura naked intrude, and you wonder how recently she wore it.
Crossing your hands in front of your crotch feels like the best compromise. Stepping out from behind the screen.
"Thank you. どうも domo..." you say, as quickly and clearly as you can manage.
You don't want to appear rude, and not thank her. But equally, or more embarrassingly you don't want to give her a chance to notice your erection. Thankfully, she doesn't notice, or at least doesn't comment. As you dart through the bathroom door.
"I'll take your clothes." she repeats.
You give a nod to show you've heard her, but you concentrate on sliding the bolt across the bathroom door ensuring you're alone, and no interruptions. You release the breath you didn't know you were holding and strip off, the gown hanging it on the back of the door.
You try to dismiss the taunting thought of the naked Sakura from your imagination. The bathroom mirror showing your reflection, it's hard not to picture her head and face there. Her cleavage framed by the dressing gown. While the door is solid, and certainly shut, you aren't sure that it's sound-proof or draught-proof, and you fight the urge to relax yourself.
The water is hot and plentiful, and the soaps, shampoos and so forth plentiful. Sniffing a few of the lotions, you find them all rather more fragrant than your usual choices. The rich scents of herbs filling the air, mixing with the rising mist as the bath fills. You spot how lank your hair looks in the mirror, and take a bottle of shampoo to the side of the bath. A bar of peppermint soap is already there, the water bubbles up nicely, filling the room with the scent of ... Jojoba, the bottle says.
It's relaxing, as you sink beneath the water, your muscles relax, and you take a deep breath inhaling the mix. You enjoy the soak, but the different aroma seem to fight for dominance, the bubble bath, against the soap, against the shampoo. Each essential, but happier on it's own.
It's only as the water cools that you realise how long you've been in the water. Thankfully the soak has relieved your other tensions too, and you try to recollect the days events, rather than think of Sakura....
The thick towel makes drying yourself easy as you step onto the bathmat. But once that's done, you feel the chill in the air once more. Doubly so, when a wet foot slaps against the bare stone floor, making you snatch it back. You finger comb your hair into something approaching order, and take a deep calming breath. You now smell as fragrant as all the products, a welter of scents, and herbs hang in a cloud around you.
Double-checking your dressing gown is closed, you leave the bathroom. You resist the urge to retreat back to it's safety, as you see Sakura tucked up in one of the beds. You aren't sure if this is very Japanese, to not care about these things. Or, more likely, they were expecting a 'Danielle', and are having to make do for the night.
But modesty drives you to lift the clothing screen, and use it as a partition between your two beds, giving her... and you some privacy.
With that in place, you slip quickly and smoothly from the dressing gown, and into the empty bed.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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