Showers

Author's Note

WARNING: THE THIRD SECTION BELOW CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT.

I wrote this as a challenge to myself, because it scared me to write it. I apologize in advance to anyone who finds it offensive (or just offensively bad!).

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An Unexpected Shower

Maria and Georg strolled through the Louvre Museum, hand in hand. Maria's eyes were wide with wonder. She was so excited to see the brilliant work of the art masters she had only read about that she hardly dared blink. Everywhere she looked she saw one masterpiece after another. Maria had found it difficult to leave the Greek and Roman Antiquities displays. She had been fascinated by the brilliant works – bronze statues, marble sculptures like the Venus de Milo, exquisite jewelry – left behind by a culture that had once believed in so many gods. She greatly admired the Greeks especially; despite being a polytheistic society, they had produced great philosophers who, through pure reason alone, had come to the conclusion that there must be one Creator.

Georg noted Maria's enthusiasm and smiled at her indulgently, feeling fortunate to see the museum through her eyes. He felt as though he was seeing everything for the first time. How fitting that she makes everything feel new, he thought.

After some effort, he finally succeeded in pulling her away and steering her toward the European paintings. As reluctant as she had been to leave the area, she was already captivated by the paintings. She paused at Caravaggio's Death of the Virgin, shaken by the brutality of the painting while at the same time admiring the dramatic use of light and shadow. When they reached Rembrandt's Bathsheba at her Bath, she blushed as she looked at the nude image. Something so private on display for all to see… she was reminded that there was only one person who saw her in this way.

They had been in Paris on their honeymoon for over a week now and had spent much of that time getting to know each other, learning to become comfortable with each other in new ways. Maria was still shy with her new husband, but her complete trust in him along with his patience and gentleness were helping to make everything feel natural.

"Oh, Georg, look, it's the Mona Lisa! I've seen many pictures of this painting. I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes." Maria pointed to the famous portrait by Leonardo da Vinci.

"Yes, it's one of my favorites. So mysterious, that smile and the look in her eyes. What do you suppose she was thinking about?" Georg asked, a smile in his voice.

"Perhaps she was wondering who was feeding the chickens while she was wasting time sitting for a portrait," Maria joked.

Georg held back a chuckle. He so enjoyed Maria's sense of humor. He decided to play along.

"Oh no, darling, I think not. I think she's wondering if the blueberry pie she's looking at is worth having shaved off her eyebrows to pose for this portrait," he replied in a deadly serious tone.

Maria swallowed the laughter that bubbled up inside her; she would not be the first to break.

"No, my dear Captain, I don't think so. I think she's holding back a massive belch that's on the verge of erupting."

Georg could not hold back the laughter after that. "Touché, my dear, touché!"

They spent the rest of the morning wandering through the museum, stopping frequently to look more closely at whatever caught their attention. They made up stories about the figures and artifacts they saw, and about the subjects of the paintings. At times they could not contain their laughter at the absurdity of their imaginative tales. When a guard looked at them sternly, they decided it was time to leave and have lunch.

Walking out of the Louvre and into the surrounding courtyard, they were surprised to see that the weather had changed. When they had entered the museum, the sun had been shining brightly. Now there were dark, threatening clouds hovering low in the sky; rain was on the way. Georg looked around and spotted a nearby café. They were halfway there when the first drops of rain fell. The shower was sudden, with gusty winds flinging heavy raindrops into them. They ran the rest of the way to the café, arriving wet but exhilarated. Finding temporary shelter under the awning of the café, they watched the raindrops bounce off the ground.

Georg, remembering a conversation they'd once had about the rain, looked over at Maria. Her face was filled with delight as she watched the rain. Feeling his eyes on her, Maria looked up at him, grinning. She noticed a small piece of a leaf in his hair and reached up to brush it away tenderly. Georg took her hand in his and kissed her palm. She laid her hand against his cheek, staring into his eyes. Oh, how she loved this man.

Smiling, Georg grabbed both of her hands and pulled her away from the café. Maria was confused at first, but when he held his arms in dance position, she grinned at him again and moved into his arms. She began humming 'Edelweiss' and he led her in a waltz. As the storm continued to swirl around them, they moved in perfect rhythm, dancing in the rain.

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A Shower of Tears

"Do you suppose they would let us climb it?" Maria asked Georg. He looked at her incredulously before quickly realizing that she was teasing him.

They stood at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the most famous man-made structure in France. Maria looked at the open latticed design of the tower that reached for the clear blue sky and marveled at the creativity and labor it represented. She knew it did not match the Lord's creativity and labor, but she still thought it was quite a wonder.

"I would agree to climb it any other time, but seeing how you aren't dressed for such an endeavor, perhaps we should take the lift." Georg imagined Maria climbing the Eiffel Tower in her navy blue dress and matching coat. He had known her to climb trees; her spirit of adventure and fearlessness in the face of a challenge sometimes gave him bouts of anxiety.

"Oh, very well," Maria replied in mock disappointment, a smile tugging at her lips.

It was another glorious afternoon in Paris. Now in the third week of their honeymoon, Maria was already beginning to regret that it would be over soon. These weeks alone with Georg had been indescribably wonderful. At the same time, though, she missed the children. She knew Georg missed them too. In fact, they had spoken about cutting their honeymoon short and returning early. Talk of the war had not escaped them in Paris, and they both felt the need to see and protect their family. But for today at least, there was still peace to be had and a Tower to ascend.

Maria stepped into the lift before Georg and chose her position carefully. She wanted to be able to see everything she could as they ascended. There was no fear in her whatsoever, only excitement. She leaned as far as she could as the lift took them closer to the top platform, watching as the people below appeared smaller and smaller. Maria felt Georg's arm circle around her waist. She did not need his protection but was grateful for the caring gesture all the same. It made her feel loved.

Following an impulse, Maria rapped her knuckles on the metal railings of the lift experimentally. G major. A good note for a lift, she thought. She felt more than heard Georg chuckling behind her; she knew he was laughing at her uncanny ability – and slightly obsessive propensity – to find music in the oddest places.

When they reached the platform, Maria strode out of the lift confidently, eager to look around. The view was spectacular. She could see for miles, and she took in the city on display before her. The variety of colors and shapes and angles of the buildings, the way the sunlight reflected on so many different surfaces, the ripples in the waters of the Seine… it was no wonder that so many artists found their inspiration here.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The air seemed cleaner at this height; she found it refreshing. When she opened her eyes, she saw a flock of birds flying in formation. The sight reminded her that, even in the midst of a chaotic world, one could find order. She remembered how many times in her life she had felt out of balance, not sure where she fit in. Being orphaned as a child, not having a home where she belonged, entering the abbey where she always seemed to find herself in some kind of trouble – all of that had changed when the Lord had led her to the man beside her and the children who waited for them at home. She knew where she belonged now; she had found her order within the chaos.

Her eyes filled with tears as she was suddenly overcome with gratitude. She turned to Georg and embraced him fiercely, burying her face in his shoulder, the tears spilling from her eyes.

"Maria, what is it, what's wrong?" Georg put his arms around his wife, rubbing her back soothingly, concern in his voice.

She lifted her head and smiled through her shower of tears at the man she loved.

"Nothing's wrong, Georg. It's just that I'm so happy." She laid her head against his shoulder as he tightened his embrace. Georg was just as happy and grateful to have her in his life.

The city below teemed with activity as thousands of people went about their daily business, but up in the Tower, two people remained in a loving embrace that was very much like a prayer.

* * * * *

In the Shower

Maria adjusted the temperature of the water and entered the shower. A long, final day of sightseeing had exhausted her. She and Georg would be leaving Paris in the morning and returning home to the children. They had both agreed that they were not comfortable being away from the rest of the family any longer.

She stood under the shower, letting the force of the water massage her aching muscles. Almost immediately she began to feel revived enough to sing, as she often did in the shower.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

She was so engaged in the shower and the song that she did not hear Georg enter the shower behind her. When she felt hands on her shoulders, she froze for a second, her heart lurching, until she realized that her husband had joined her in the shower. As she felt his hands massaging her shoulders, her heart started racing. They had never showered together; suddenly having him there lit a quick fire in her.

"Keep singing," Georg said in a low voice. She quivered at the sound of it, at the thought of him standing behind her, naked and wet, touching her. Her voice shook as she continued singing.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings

These are a few of my favorite things

His fingers trailed across her shoulders and down her spine. He followed the flow of the water as it trickled further down her body, tracing the clefts and crevices in the way that he knew would make her writhe. When she felt his mouth on her neck, sliding and sucking against her skin, his hands continuing to dip into her, her breath caught and she had to stop singing. Her legs felt weak, and she reached out to grab the shower curtain, needing to hold on to something.

"Please don't stop singing, my love," he whispered into her ear, knowing it would stir her blood even more. As he kissed the side of her neck, she felt his hands come around to cup her breasts, his fingers at play, rubbing slowly back and forth across her already hardened nipples, the water creating a stimulating combination of smooth friction.

Maria felt her stomach tighten down low, her body almost vibrating at each of his touches. She resumed singing, her voice unsteady.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

Silver white winters that melt into Springs

These are a few of my favorite things

He stepped closer to her until she felt him hard against her. Her last note was more like a gasp; she could no longer continue singing. The throbbing was becoming too intense.

"Georg…" she groaned.

He turned her around and leaned her against the wall tiles, moving to press his body to hers. She stopped him with a gentle push against his chest. Breathing hard, she looked at him and saw the want and desire in his eyes. She saw that he had been holding himself back as he teased her with his touches. Suddenly wanting to do the same to him, she leaned her chest into his, letting her breasts just barely touch him, rubbing them against him until he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. His response made her feel even bolder. She reached down and grabbed him in her hand, stroking him up and down, her fingers rubbing and squeezing where she had quickly learned he felt the most intense pleasure, knowing she could make him lose control.

With a loud moan, Georg opened his eyes. Pushing Maria back into the wall tiles, he kissed her hard, devouring her in his hunger. Maria wrapped her arms around him, twining one hand in his hair, pulling him closer. She needed him closer.

Georg reached down to grab the back of Maria's knee and lifted her leg. She wrapped it around him, his hand still supporting her. Pulling up for air, Georg looked at her. She gave him a small nod, and drew his lips back to hers, her hips thrusting into his, the slick wet friction irresistible.

Georg entered her slowly, one agonizingly delicious inch at a time. Maria dug her fingers into his shoulder, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Slowly he moved, her body moving with him, finding a rhythm that gradually sped up, faster, harder. When felt herself tightening around him, she gripped his shoulder harder, her nails digging into his skin. It was enough to trigger him, and he emptied himself into her, collapsing against her, her own body shuddering against his.

Still trembling, she held onto him, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her gently, again and again. They stayed in the shower, holding onto each other for a time, whispering to each other. I love you… you are mine… my heart is yours forever… The water continued to shower them, soothing them, baptizing them anew.

Later that night as they lay in bed, Maria turned to Georg with a wicked look in her eyes.

"I just thought of something."

"What is it, love?"

"I'm going to have to write our own special verse to the song after that. But maybe we shouldn't sing that verse to the children."

Georg burst out laughing. He did indeed love his wife's sense of humor.

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A/N: The song lyrics are, of course, from Rodgers and Hammerstein's "My Favorite Things".

Reviews are most welcome (even if you didn't like the story!).