Fantasy In Satin

I woke up slowly, surrounded by a pleasant perfume, my head lying on something satiny soft. Sleepily, I opened my eyes. My beautiful wife was gazing down at me, smiling tenderly. The lace from her peignoir sleeve trailed across my face as she pushed some of my hair that had fallen over my brow back from my face.

By Bea

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"Hello sleepyhead." She purred. "Have a nice nap?" I smiled back up at her. "Oh yes." I replied, then yawned. "You smell awfully nice." I said. "Is that a new perfume you're trying?" She looked puzzled for a second, then smiled down at me again. "Oh no dear. It's probably this new cream I'm trying on you. It does smell lovely, doesn't it?" As she said this, her cool fingers stroked my brow, and around my eyes, and I could feel the smoothness of the face cream she was working into my skin.

Then I remembered. She'd been concerned about the state of my skin some days earlier and had suggested some cream that she thought highly of. Since then she had been trying it out along with various other products. Just as I'd been slipping of into napland I'd been laying on my back, with my head on her lap. Had fallen asleep as she'd worked her ministrations into my skin. "It's kind of perfumy, is it not?" I asked, a little concern crossing my mind. "Well, maybe a little bit. But don't you want to smell nice for me?" She chided me gently. "I mean," she continued "I make myself feel all nice and soft and pretty for you, don't I? Surely you don't mind smelling just a teensy wee bit nice for me, eh?"

What could I say? I smiled back up at her, and let her fingers continue their sweet smelling massage.

Dreamily, I looked up at the draped material that surrounded our canopied bed. The white, soft, fabrics that seemed to cover - but didn't exactly extinguish, the pastel pinks and blues, the sheen of the satins used. From the corner of my eye, I could see the sweep of her lace-enclosed arm as it moved gently, massaging the creams and lotions into my skin - the lace matching the textures on the cushions and pillows that surrounded us on the bed. The whole room was different since Ellen had married me. It was so nice now.

From nowhere, Rose appeared in my vision. Her pretty oval face framed by her jet black hair, topped with a pristine white lace cap. It dropped out of my vision momentarily as she bobbed a quick curtsey. "Miss Ellen?" She was saying. "Mister Henry's cousins are here. Should I bring them upstairs?"

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