"Why you ain't covered, you ain't all covered with mud," he commanded, as one of his hands crossed the space between them and gently touched her breast. Her unwarmed nipples pricked her attention.

"Neither are you," she sighed happily.

"I've never..." She trailed off, as she hurried into the cubicle and plunged under the welcoming water. He came in directly behind her. But as the mud slowly washed away, she didn't have the courage to turn around and face him.

In a moment, his hands, washed clean, were on her back, massaging with the soap she favored. Around and around, insensitive circles, those hands moved, up on her shoulders, then...