Incarna

George awoke slowly, reveling in the scent of his woman and the sound of the sea caressing the wooden hull just next to his head. He slept on the left side of the bed, because, well he liked to use his left hand in lovemaking more then his right. He wrote and worked with his right. He loved, was intimate and was another self through his left.

The inner hull just here had been left uninsulated, so he could listen to the sea and its caress of the wooden planking of his yacht, his finest creation. “It’s a Ketch George, it has two masts,” was Aub’s favourite dig at him about his ‘Forest’.

He frowned as the scratching began again and he rolled away from the sound. He drew a deep breath and tried to settle but the scratching had disturbed him, it always did. He sighed and opened his eyes to watch Susan sleeping and maybe wake her for morning delight. She was laying on her side looking at him.

“Hi,” he said feebly his mouth dry and his tongue unwilling to cooperate. “Who is she?” George frowned and closed his eyes. “I know I’m not your only woman, but I’ve never heard you call out to one of them in your sleep before!” George took in her gaze. Susan was very serious, and amused at the same time. She was playing with him and he remembered this look of hers as she had watched him reel in his favourite Black Sea Bass.

George shook his head. “It’s not a woman it’s a memory that haunts me every now and then,” he said matter of factly. “Just someone, a friend of a friend, that died a long time ago and for some reason her death affected me at the time.”

Susan nodded unconvincingly. “That’s not what you were saying George. It sounded as if you were frightened!” She paused judging his reaction. They had been friends and lovers for a few years now, a relationship of two  similar souls falling into each others arms like a grateful homecoming. The relationship was also a convenience for both of them, a very comfortable and very erotic convenience.

“The death happened when I was a kid and it scared me.” George paused and sat up, pushing his pillows into a pile behind him. “I became obsessed that it would happen to me!” He punched the wood panels along the side of the bed with his left fist and there was an echo and vibration, not just a dull thud. “I had the hull so constructed that it would amplify anything that happened just there,” and he indicated the panelling he had just struck. “It makes me think I’m scaring off anything that might be coming to get me!”

“You said something like leave me alone shefish!” Susan added matter of factly, her tone that of a researcher now not a caring lover. “Do you see her in the waters here, is that why we come here because of her?” George turned to her and took another deep breath and rubbed distractedly at his eyes and clearing the congealed sleep out of the inner corners at the same time.

“It happened here, in this bay and it was my father who found the body floating just under the surface.” George shook his head but the memories were locked in and weren’t going to leave him alone. “I remember the swollen face and especially the eyes that seemed to glow and stare back at me, while the arms moved with the swell and reached up to drag me under.”

“Yes I can well understand how that could haunt a child!” She leant across and kissed him softly, “why now George, what’s happened?”

“The memory always returns when I’m facing very stressful situations!” My therapist believes it is my subconscious telling me that what is happening is especially important and to pay attention or it might drown me.”

“Is this the same one who says you are more Type A than Thomas Crown!”

“Ha,” George exclaimed, “I’d eat Crown for breakfast, all that wasted time over a painting! Still it was a good movie!”

“So this Shefish, do you respect her or fear her?” George frowned, nobody had asked him such a question before. “Both!” he said complacently.

“Perhaps you could wear my Gill Suit and confront her!” Susan said hoping to put some fire in his belly so that left of his could do more than just thumb the side of the boat.

George went white and started to shake, “no, can’t, nope never. I cant ever be in the water with her!”and he started to cry!

Susan pulled him over toward her and cradled his head on her naked breasts. She felt his tears fall onto her left breast and run down her cleavage, and somehow this aroused her. For some ancient reason, having George so weak and childlike made her ache for him. She started to softly the top of his head. He lifted his face to hers and she watched a last tear fall away. She kissed his face and his eyes and then his mouth.

George forgot his fear and responded and his left hand sought her curves and soft aching moistness.