A Love to Nurture

We were both working in the pottery shop since it was Founder's Day at the historical museum. Seeing someone creating 19th century style pottery on a kick wheel is such a treat for most people. I had never worked with Jake before since he was a new hire. But having seen his resume, I was impressed by his training.

The pottery shop was a relatively small shop that was created inside an old barn. Benches had been added so the public could sit and watch and rest from the day's walking. I was prepping my wheel for the day when I turned and saw a tall burly figure in the doorway. He was lit from behind by the morning sun and it was hard to make out his features for a moment.

When my eyes adjusted, I saw a man in his mid-thirties with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. I think that I was holding my breath from the sight. It was a moment before I realized that he had introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Jake. I hope that they told you I would be working with you today."

I exhaled and tried to reply. "Umm. I'm Alex. Yes, I was expecting you." A glance at the clock showed me that it was time to open the doors to the public.

We both moved to the wedging table to prepare our clay. The plastic bag of clay that was hidden by canvas for a more traditional effect, was to my right. I hadn't realized that I was in Jake's way until his forearm brushed my left breast. Immediately my nipple tightened and heightened. It was visibly poking at the broadcloth shirt I was wearing. Both of us realized the electric contact between us and stopped, frozen in the moment. I could see his eyes staring at my aroused nipple. I saw him lick his lips and then render a polite "I'm sorry.....close quarters."

I backed away with my clay and retreated to my kick wheel. I felt his eyes follow me and saw an amused look on his face that mocked my overly prudish escape. A couple appeared at the door and seemed pleased with the display of pottery on the shelves. I started my repertoire. "Morning folks, we will be demonstrating and interpreting the pottery that would have been made on this site in 1830." The woman immediately asked if there actually would have been women potters during that time period. Jake stepped in to answer as I started to center my clay.

"No mam, as beautiful and talented as Alex is, she would not have been the typical potter during this time." I looked up at him as if to ask how he knew my skill level. He smiled and turned toward the display of pottery on the shelves. "But it is very difficult to find a potter of Alex's caliber....so..." He turned back toward me and finished his statement as he perused my figure. "We take what we can get. And in this case, we get a lot of expertise in this lady."

The couple was unaware of any undertones to his statement, but I wasn't. I returned to the formation of my clay and the step of opening up the clay. I thought to myself "You won't be taking or getting anything from me you arrogant man."

A man and his young son walked into the shop and took their seats...I continued to start the pulling of the walls step. Jake interpreted the process of throwing a pot. "Our potter is now pulling up the walls of the pot. She keeps the clay wet so that it can smoothly slip through the gap between her inside fingers and her outside fingers. She slowly is stretching the clay and pulling it up into a tall cylinder." Jake demonstrated the technique with his hands on an imaginary pot in the air.

The young boy asked his father "What is she making Daddy?"

Jake turned back to me and asked "Yes Alex. What are we making today?"

How did he manage to make that statement sound suggestive? I answered, "I'm making a jug that will be about 12" tall."

The boy piped up "A milk jug?"

I saw Jake's eyes lower to my chest and linger there. Of course, both nipples responded to his examination. "It could be used for milk. But it could also be filled with vinegar or oil." I answered.

The youngster definitively stated, "I like milk!"

Without missing a beat, Jake answered "So do I. So do I." And then he chuckled to himself.

I finished making the pot without any further insinuations from my co-worker. The people left to go to their next destination. I decided that it was time for a little water break in the back room. As I dug my thermos out of my bag, I heard Jake enter the room. "What is your problem??" I asked.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I was just having a bit of fun. Don't be angry with me." He pleaded.

"Humph...fun for you." I retorted.

Jake nodded and let his eyes roam over me again. He did this as I was taking a sip from my thermos. Of course, in my surprise, I opened my mouth before swallowing and dribbled some water down my chin. Jake's eyes never left my wet lips. "Well, cool it. Will you?"

"Yes, honey." He responded. I gave him a derisive look as I went back to the show room.

The rest of the morning proceeded with a truce of respectable behavior. The only awkward moment was when Jake leaned behind me to reach for a set of calipers and placed his warm hand on my shoulder. Does he do this on purpose? Touching and arousing me?? How would he like it if I did the same to him...I then realized that he would not mind that very much.

Toward the noon hour, when the pottery shop closed for lunch, one of the lady guides, Martha, in period dress appeared with a basket covered with a tea towel. "We made vegetable soup in the kitchen today and put in some Johnny cake bread as well. Hi Jake. Is Alex making you feel at home?"

Jakes responded with "Yes, she is. I love playing house with Alex." I stuck my tongue out at him and took the basket out to the back steps to eat in the sun. After chatting a bit with Martha, Jake asked if I was sharing with him.

"Of course. It was probably made and brought down here for you anyway." The ladies that worked in the houses were always eager to chat with any new, handsome young workers.

"Wow. That smells good. I seldom get home cooked meals."

"Here's a napkin you can set your bread on." I said as I divvied up the goods. "Your wife or girlfriend doesn't cook for you?"

"I don't have either at the moment and my folks live a bit away. I was surprised by his statement of being unattached, but secretly was glad as well.

"Do you cook for your husband?"

"No. My husband died about 2.5 years ago. I don't cook much since it's just me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

I nodded my head and thanked him for his condolence. We ate the remainder of our lunch in quiet thought. Jake wondered how my husband died. I wondered why he didn't have a wife or girlfriend.

The day was warm and dry, so the pots from the morning were firm enough to have their handles made and attached. So, while Jake was throwing pottery on the wheel, I wedged some clay and grabbed a chunk that I rolled into a short carrot shape.

Standing at the table, with a bowl of water in front of me, I began to pull a handle. Holding the clay in my left had I gently but firmly pulled down on on it, slowly pulling and stretching the clay down into a long snake form. Jake's eyes watched every inch that my hand pulled. I looked at him and held his gaze. He licked his lips in a nervous manner. I continued pulling the clay while maintaining eye contact. As I passed by him to hang the handle from the nearby shelf, I whispered "Two can play that game."

I heard him chuckle at my back and whisper "Touche".

The day was filled with small herds of people that came through the shop to watch us throw pottery and ask us questions about the process and the pots on the shelves. While the pots from the day were still leather hard, I needed to line the insides with the Albany glaze that would later turn to brown glass to seal the inside of the pot.

I struggled trying to move the crock of glaze onto the table.

Strong hands and arms came from nowhere to help me lift the crock. We were standing close to each other and I could see a light sheen of sweat on his face...Oh what a face. Sculpted by the gods: cheekbones that stood out high and proud, nose that was straight and perfect and lips that were full and soft and framed by a moustache and beard. God, I could run my fingers through that beard, hold his face in my hands and kiss those lips. He smirked at me with a twinkle in his eyes as if he could hear my thoughts. "Th-Thank you" I croaked.

"No problem. Anything you need Alex, just ask."

By the end of the day, I was hot, sweaty and turned on. I closed the plastic clay bag and covered it with the canvas. I washed my tools and placed them by the sink for tomorrow. I went to the back room to drink some water and gather my things. Pulling my hair up I wetted my hand and tried to transfer the water to my neck and cleavage. I turned around to a stunned Jake.

Dumbstruck, he couldn't take his eyes from my cleavage. "That was a long hot day, huh? Do you want to go somewhere to cool off?"

"Is he asking me out in my Amish clothing that is covered in clay" I thought to myself.

He saw me look down and realized the problem that was left unspoken. "Don't worry about your clothes. Where we are going there is no dress code".

"Wow, sounds really nice. Some dive in the valley?" I said while picturing a dark seedy bar

.

"You could say that. Come on, it will be just what you need."

I followed him in my car as we drove north from the museum. He signaled to turn right into a lane that was barely visible from the main road. We drove down the overgrown lane for about a half a mile. I stopped and parked beside him when he stopped. I looked around but could see nothing of any importance that would bring us to the middle of the woods. "Great" I thought. "He's a murderer and this will be my final resting place". I saw Jake draw towels from the trunk and a basket. "Can I help?" I asked.

"No, we have everything we need. Follow me."

I followed his slim figure and broad shoulders onto a narrow foot path. "It's not far from here. Just wait. You will love it."

"Okay" I thought, "this is an interesting date if indeed it is a date". Jake set the basket and towels down on a picnic table that had been placed along side of a stone quarry that had filled with water.

"The water is so clean and clear and refreshing here. You will love it!"

In a panicked moment I said, "But I don't have a swimsuit!"

He shook his head. "Wear your bra and underwear if you want. It doesn't matter. But I personally like to feel the water all over my body."

"Okay, okay. Just turn around while I undress and get in." I said in a weakened voice.

"Not a problem" he shouted as he pulled off his clothes and strode into the water.

God, he was beautiful. Those back muscles, that butt...Easy girl, you are in way over your head here.

Treading water and facing the other direction, he shouted "Are you coming in or not? You are safe with me. Nothing is going to happen here other than what you want. Okay?"

I thought to myself, "Okay, so he was going to let me control the situation. Okay, I can do this." And I just so happen to love skinny dipping. I quickly pulled off my clothes and scurried into the water. The water quenched my burning skin. It was so cool and sensual on my naked body. Wow, it felt so good.

"Oh, my, this is wonderful. Great idea. I didn't even know this place existed."

"Yes not many do. My uncle's farm is about a mile down the road. We used to come here as kids for a month in the summer. It was our own private swimming hole."

"And you shared it with me? Aren't you afraid the secret will get out?"

Jake looked at me seriously and said "No, I trust you. You can always trust a potter."

"Really?" I replied.

"Yes, and you can trust me too Alex. I've been on simmer all day. Being close to you, but not close enough. It was driving me crazy." With that comment, we both stopped and gazed at each other. The water was so clear you could make out most of our bodies. I didn't care. Not when he looked at me that way. This was no pick up line.

This was the real deal. I knew it because he had made himself vulnerable for me to see his true feelings. Not knowing what to say, I stepped forward at the same time he did. Our bodies were touching, but not enough. Jake put his arms around me. I hadn't been so close to a man since Ben died. I thought it was a thought, but I had said it out loud.

Jake kissed my temple and said, "Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

Immediately I teared up. How is this possible? I never let anyone see my grief. But this man, this perfect stranger had a window to my soul. "It was January 15, 2019. It was a typical morning where we were both scurrying around to get to work on time. We kissed (just a peck) and he said "I'll see you later." That was the last time I saw him alive. Before I even left the house, the highway patrol was knocking on my door, asking if I was Ben Sedgwick's wife. They came in and sat with me at the kitchen table...I knew something was horribly wrong with Ben, but I didn't think he was dead. I couldn't."

That was all I could share. I started to cry. Not a pretty crying either. An all-out gut wrenching sobbing. Jake held me, hugged me closer and whispered "It's okay, baby. Let it out. It's okay." I don't know how long this went on. Well, until I couldn't cry anymore.

When I stopped crying there were a few hiccups through which Jake started placing small kisses across my forehead. It was so sweet. He then started placing them down my nose. By the time he got to my mouth, I was hungry for an all-out no holds barred kiss. Jake accepted that that was what I needed. And he gave me a kiss to end all kisses. I finally had to come up for air.

"I... You... We can't do this!" I said irrationally.

"We can and we did. It's okay Alex. Any man who loved you would want you to go on living. He would want you to be happy."

I closed my eyes and remembered a conversation in which Ben and I had talked about the "what if" scenario. Ben, had said the exact same thing in the exact same words. At the time, I just set the subject aside because it was too horrible to think about. But now, it was as if he was speaking through Jake.

I shook my head trying to figure out what was real. And then the reality of me being in Jake's arms naked in a pond struck me as being very real. I could feel his warmth and his acceptance of whatever feelings I had. This was incredible. Could God give me two good men in one lifetime? I didn't know. But I sure wanted to find out.

Jake walked us to the edge of the pond. He hurried out first to hold a towel up for me. Well, it was more the size of a small blanket. I felt secure and taken care of. After toweling himself off and wrapping the towel around his waist Jake sat at the picnic table and started to pull out a feast. I hadn't even realized I was so hungry. There was wine and cheese and crackers and two wrapped sandwiches and grapes and brownies.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

"I had the museum kitchen staff make it up for me."

Wearily, I asked "Were you so sure I would come with you?"

"No. But I had hoped." Was his reply.

"Why? You don't even know me."

"That's not true, Alex. I've been following your career as one of the up-and- coming ceramic artists. It's no accident that I took the job at the museum." I looked at him perplexed. "I saw a picture of you in Ceramic Art of your Nashville exhibition. I knew I had to meet you. It was the strangest thing. I had already fallen for your art. But then I fell in love with that picture. If they hadn't hired me for the pottery position, I would be volunteering my time just to get close to you."

I remembered that photo. It was two months after Ben had died. My hair was pulled back in a severe style and my clothing was all black accept for a silk dyed scarf I wore around my neck. Those were dark days for me. "That was over two years ago."

He nodded. "I knew that you had lost your husband. It was in the article. I couldn't intrude on your grief. I knew you needed time. I kept track of you through Marcia in admissions. She said you two were friends and I would inquire about you every now and then".

Things were starting to fit together. Marcia had said that there was someone she wanted me to meet when I was ready to move on. I had told Marcia about a couple of absolutely horrible dates I had had, so she knew I was trying to get on with my life. Marcia, you are sly, and a very good friend to me.

In response to his admiration of me, I confessed to having followed his work as well, although I had never seen a photo of him. "I love your black and white glaze phase. It was so chic and modern. That is why I couldn't believe that you wanted to spend your summer throwing traditional pottery for a historical museum!"

"I did. And I do. I'd do anything to be close to you, to get to know you, to try to see if you could possibly develop feelings for me."

I took a sip of wine and let his words sink into my brain. This is not possible. There is nothing extraordinary about me to warrant such attention from a stranger. "Why me??"

Jake took my face into his hands, and touched his forehead to mine. "You don't know, do you? You don't know how spectacular you are!" he said incredulously. I shook my head...that had to be some mistake. "In time, I will have you believing it...you'll see." And then he kissed me long and tenderly. "Come on, Alex, eat up. We had a long hard day. Let's eat something and relax."

After eating, we laid side by side at the base of the tree near the picnic table. We talked and talked. We talked about everything and about nothing. There were no awkward silences. Only silence when we would absorb what the other had said.

In the midst of the conversation, we had snuggled up under the same blanket. It didn't feel strange to be so close to a relative stranger. It wasn't strange to be naked with this naked man. It felt right. I felt his heartbeat under my ear. It's as if my own heart had started to beat again. We laughed and teased and wondered at how perfectly our humor fit together.

During one of the comfortable silences, I looked up at him and moved his hand to my breast. He looked at me as if to say "Are you sure?" I silenced the question with a kiss. I pulled him down to me and ran my fingers through his hair. He cupped my breast and pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It hit me hard...I held my breath.

He lowered his lips to my left nipple, licked it, sucked it and proceeded to suckle on it as if he was a baby at his mother's breast. He positioned my nipple pointing to the roof on his mouth, sealed his lips on my breast and worked his tongue as if to move milk from the breast to the nipple. It was very pleasant at first and then the more he suckled and the harder he suckled, I became more and more aroused. I couldn't stop the moans that were escaping from my mouth. It became more and more erotic. I started to shudder and climaxed there in his arms. He released my nipple, looked up at me and smiled.

"Oh my God Jake, what was that?"

"I was suckling you. I take it from your reaction that you liked it?"

I stuttered, "You know I did! My God, I came from nipple stimulation!"

He chuckled and said, "I know, I was here for it. And it was incredible from my point of view as well." A tear trickled down my cheek and he caught it with his finger. "Oh baby, what's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No Jake, you didn't. You just added color to a black and white world."

"Oh is that all?" he said. "You looked so beautiful as you came in my arms. I will always remember the way you looked. Your nipples are very responsive and sensitive."

"I guess so" I said. I've never experienced anything like it."

"Here baby, just relax in my arms. Once you've got your bearings, we need to go before it gets dark and the mosquitoes come out." I lay there in a daze of wonderment. I never knew I could feel this way. Jake, you are amazing, I thought.