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Up Front,Out Back, 6 - Cleanliness is Next to the Tail Gate.
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Cleanliness is Next to the Tail Gate
He did offer to find her clothes. They were under the platform the mattress was on, in the back of the ute. She knew that it wouldn't be long and it would be dark. She picked up a towel and wrapped that around herself. It was comfortable. The bull ant stings were still painful and she was glad not to aggravate them with her close fitting clothes. The welts from the stings had grown and she was glad to be away from the place.
He looked for a flat place to park that would be pleasant and away from the road. She was a little skeptical when he said that the animal he feared most was the human animal. It is the most unpredictable and can be ferocious, especially if armed.
It was dusk when they chose a place to stop. It had a flat vista of semiarid plant species on red, sandy soil which extended to the horizon. In the remaining light they hurried to organize a meal and found a candle for later use, Rochelle put her journal in the back and they both found a change of clothes. It was pleasant. As the light faded, the air cooled and invigorated them. They ate a stir fry, not restaurant fare, but substantial and good. The coffee was welcomed as they sat and quietly listened to the movement around them. He heated more water to wash the enamel dishes. Rochelle looked up and was surprised; she had never seen so many stars.
"That, up there," and he pointed, "is the southern cross." She followed his finger up into the heavens but saw no cross. The water was boiling and he turned off the gas. Together they washed the dishes, silently, taking their time as they did. She felt comfortable in his presence, she felt she had no need to talk and yet, she knew he was thinking; his head was very busy.
He filled a saucepan with water again, lit the gas and explained that he guessed she would like to have a wash. As they finished drying the dishes the water came to the boil. He cleared the tailgate and found another two bowls. One he put in the middle of the tailgate and the other he dropped on the ground. He then found shampoo and conditioner, flannels and towels.
"I'm sorry," he said, I don't have soap, I use shampoo instead." She wondered what his plans were.
"Ok." she said, and then, "I have soap if you'd like it." She pulled her box out from under the mattress and quickly found soap for him.
"It's calendula soap." He took it from her.
"Mmm. Yes. Smells good, and it's good for the skin." Rochelle adjusted her towel; she opened it and then tucked it in again. In the dark, silhouettes could be seen, and she wondered whether he had noticed.
"I think it's better than shampoo," Rochelle ventured.
"Yes, sham things are generally inferior. Normally the real thing is so much better." There was silence for a moment.
"Are you suggesting that we should be using real poo?"
"Would I suggest something like that?" he asked, with a voice very measured and reasoned. She was quiet for a while as she figured it out. Then she smacked his upper arm and laughed.
"The theory of washing is that you stand beside the tailgate or sit on it with your feet in that bowl and you soap up a flannel. With the flannel you soap up your body. If you're going to wash your hair then you do that. Then rinse off with this flannel using water from the bowl."
"Uh ha," she said, not quite convinced.
"I'm sure you don't want an audience, I'll go for a walk for about 20 minutes." He started to walk.
"Err, I'm not sure I have the method. It is so dark it doesn't matter that you stay. I am not going to let you wander off in the dark and leave me in the dark anyway."
"Oh! Ok." He sounded genuinely surprised.
"And I might need help." He sat on the tailgate.
"Would you like me to wash first?"
"No, I will, but don't go away."
"Ok." She took off the towel and threw it into the ute.
"Why do I have to stand in the bowl?"
"So your feet won't be in mud."
"Ok." She slipped her sandals off and stood in the bowl. He said nothing. "Now what?"
"Wet a flannel."
"What is a flannel?" she asked.
"This," and he put a washcloth in her hand.
"Ok." She dunked the flannel.
"Now what?"
"Soap up the flannel." He could hear her rubbing the soap into the flannel.
"Now what?"
"Soap up your body with the flannel."
"Ok." He could hear her soaping her body.
"Oops."
"What happened?"
"I nearly lost my balance." She continued with the soaping.
"The soap smells good," he complimented.
"Thank you." He could hear her struggling.
"Oops. Nearly fell again."
"Are you ok?"
"I think so"
"Ok." There was a sudden clatter.
"What happened?"
"I nearly fell and when I grabbed for the tailgate I knocked something over."
"Ok. I'll look for it." He got off the tailgate and felt around. It didn't take long for him to find the shampoo bottle on the ground.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"I don't know. You know, this is really difficult in the dark."
"I know. You need a point of reference to balance and in the dark you have to depend on touch. If you know where the tailgate is you'll be ok."
"Are you sure?"
"Almost." He heard her soaping herself with the flannel again. Suddenly he heard her falling, he jumped and grabbed in the dark. There was a sound of water tipping and he was wet. He had caught her though. One hand was over a breast and the other along her back.
"You ok?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Good."
"Thank you."
"What for?"
"Catching me."
"It's ok." Slowly he stood her up.
"You know?"
"What?"
"It would be a lot safer if you washed me."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Ok."
"You know, it's funny."
"What's funny?"
"Women are supposed to be good at multitasking. Here I am, a woman, and I can't do this one task!" They laughed together.
"Maybe you're special in other ways."
"That's nice of you to say."
"It's ok."
"Can you sit on the tail gate?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"I haven't got any water now."
"I know. I'll get some more for you." He filled the saucepan and lit the gas. While waiting he sat on the tailgate with her.
"I hope the water I spilled didn't go in the ute."
"It didn't."
"How do you know?"
"Because, it went all over me."
"Oh." She reached over to feel. He was saturated.
"You'd better get out of those clothes." she suggested.
"Yes."
"If you're going to wash me it might be a very good idea." She laughed and he did too. He started to pull off his clothes; she could hear him throw them, sodden, onto the ute's canopy, shirt, shorts and undies. He left his sneakers on. The water started to boil; he turned off the gas, filled the bowl again, and added cold water to make the temperature delightful. He wet a flannel and soaped it up.
"You ready?" She stood up and turned to face the tailgate.
"Yes." He soaped her neck with a gentle pressure.
"Feels wonderful." she said.
"Good." The flannel went over her back.
"Mmm," he soaped her arms, her hands and her fingers, one by one. The flannel went over her shoulders.
"Feels wonderful," she said, knowing that, surely, he'd soon be soaping more interesting parts. The flannel went over her upper chest and she held her breath, waiting. The flannel went down, between her breasts and on to her belly.
"Aren't you missing bits?" she asked.
"I'll do them if you want me to."
"Please?"
"Ok." The flannel went up and soaped around one breast.
"It's ok, take your time, it's not a race and it would be nice to be washed properly."
"Yes, ok." She could hear a trace of embarrassment.
"When it's my turn to wash you, I'm going to make sure everything is squeaky clean." she announced.
"Oh. Ok." He slowed the flannel and attended to one breast, he went over it carefully to soap her nipple and the surround.
"You have to lift it to do underneath." Slowly he did as she asked and thoroughly soaped her. Then he soaped the other breast. It was beautiful; he was so gentle and thorough.
Then down her belly and on to her legs, all was done but the delicates.
"Are you going to do the rest?" she asked.
"Only if you'd like me to."
"I'd like you to." He moved the flannel around her upper thighs and then with his fingers and flannel he washed between, separated her labia and ran the flannel through many times to be sure. It was sensuous; she stood in the bowl with her legs spread as he soaped her.
"You know?"
"What?"
"I can feel where those bull ants got me."
"I was wondering."
"It's really painful."
"Do you think you need more of that medication on them?"
"I think it might help."
"Ok."
"Will you do it for me after?"
"Ok." With a stroke of the flannel up her bum the soaping was finished.
"You want your hair shampooed?
"That would be lovely, please." With a new flannel he washed her face and wet her hair. He tipped some shampoo onto her head. Slowly he massaged it in. He was standing close to her. She moved and felt an electric jolt as her hip touched his cock. It was soft and warm. She could hear water bubbling into a bottle.
"Close your eyes." He squirted water over her head as he ruffled her hair to clean the shampoo out of it. She felt the conditioner being put on; he soothed it in and massaged her scalp.
"Heaven," she thought. After a few minutes of massage, and "Close your eyes." he squirted water over her scalp and cleansed it. He loaded the flannel with water and began the rinse, her neck, her arms her shoulders and back.
"Turn, please?" he asked. Slowly she turned to face him. With the flannel he sloshed water over her and cleaned off the soap. He was carefully gentle with her breasts; he went over them twice and lifted them to slosh water underneath. It felt wonderful. Down her belly the flannel went, sloshing water around and down her legs. Back and front. He soaked the flannel again and gently placed it between her legs. She spread them wide as the flannel went up and rinsed. He loaded the flannel again and, carefully, feeling his way in the dark, separated her folds, one by one and washed them clean. The bull ant bites were still painful and she winced as the cloth touched them.
"Can you clean out that goo we put on the bull ant bites inside me?" She asked.
"OK." He wet the flannel again and carefully washed her sex.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry."
"That's enough."
"Ok."
"It still feels gooey inside."
"Oh?"
"It feels horrible."
"Oh?"
"Perhaps, if you wet your fingers you can wash it out."
"Ok." He wet his fingers and with one he entered her and gently tried to wipe her clean.
"I think you'll need to do it a few times."
"Ok." He wet his finger again and tried to clean her.
"I think it's in deeper than that."
"Ok." He tried again and after a few more attempts Rochelle was happy.
"Thank you."
"It's ok."
"Thank you for being so gentle."
"Ok." He loaded the flannel again and gently sluiced between her legs.
He found the towel and started to dry her. From the top he worked down, dried her hair, face, neck and down her back. He slowly dried each breast, dried her nipples with caresses of the towel, and under her breasts so carefully. Between her legs he attended to the detail and patted the area dry to avoid pain. He carefully separated her and attended to every crevice, it surprised him, but he couldn't seem to get the area dry. It was very strange, the more he tamped at the area the wetter it became. He went on with her legs and when they were dry he went back to between them again. It was still wet and he quickly wiped it.
Rochelle was floating with the sensuousness of it. She snapped to attention when she realized he had finished.
To be continued.
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Submitted by:
murmur
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Rating:
15 ratings
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 Kegel | | Bert | | From The Max | | Up Front, Out Back- 12- No More Pain. | | Up Front, Out Back- 11- Plans. | | Up Front, Out Back- 10- Her Introductory Tour. | | The Business | | Sprinkler | | Out Back,Up Front, 9 - Assessment of the Bull Ant Damage. | | Out Back, Up Front, 8 - Good Night. | | Out Back, Up Front, 7- Washing Jeff | | Up Front, Out Back, 5 -Bull Ants | | Up Front Out Back, 4 - First Night | | Up Front, Out Back 3 - Summer Clothes | | Up Front, Out Back 2. Arrival and Departure. | | Up Front Out Back- Silence | | Wood. Part2 | | Wood | | Cruise |  Goldwing | | Pool | | After the Flood | | M.D. | | Baby Sitter | | Danced Offerings | | Making Jam Part 3 | | Making Jam part 2 | | Making Jam | | The Indoor Fountain | | Redback | | The Hedge | | Signs | | Trombone | | Golden Lion Tamarinds | | Snip |
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