Journal Journeys_The Club
William awoke on a Saturday morning to the soft caresses, kisses and whispers of his wife. Warmth and joy spread through his body. He was loved – He loved. Excitement entered his being as Julia slid her hand down his body, lingering on his thighs before centering in on the object of her desire. Her attentions caused his insides to stir, to spin, coiling tighter and tighter with need. Releasing him, she slid her leg up over him, placing much of what he so wanted to touch within reach. Starting at her ankle and continuing to her buttocks, William's hand slid over her skin and kneaded her flesh, signaling the intensity of his yearning. She moaned in response and slipped her body higher up along his, provoking him to explore deeper.
"Mmm," he moaned upon discovering her deliciously wet state. He wondered how she had become this aroused so quickly.
As if reading his mind, Julia said, "I was awakened by a dream with you." It was quite stimulating.
William rolled her over and placed a trail of kisses down her body, from her neck to her inner thigh. Kneeling between her legs, he used both hands to open her to better gain access. His kisses were soft at first, growing in intensity as he licked and sucked on her most sensitive spot, clearly driving her to the edge of frenzy.
Julia's fingers grasped the bed-sheet, twisting and coiling it to match the tension of her insides. "William, what are you doing to me?" she pleaded, struggling to catch her breath. "Please …" she gasped. She teetered on the precipice of bliss.
William pushed his tongue down harder, sending her into an arch. "That's it," he thought, "Now you've got it." After her last twitch, he rubbed his face against her inner thighs to wipe it dry, and glided up to cover her with his body. Finding her ear with his mouth, he softly bit her ear lobe. Having held off his own urges, he was now unable to wait any longer. He entered her and aggressively powered them both into rapture.
Totally spent, he rolled off of her onto his back, panting, sweaty, heart racing. She wrapped herself around him, placing her ear against his chest, amazed at the thumping of his heart. "You know William, you wrote in your journal after you had your "Julia dream" that you weren't sure you could withstand a real encounter. Perhaps your concerns were warranted," she teased. It did her heart good to hear him chuckle in response.
"Julia," he said, "If I am lucky enough to die making love to you, know that I died happy." They lay together quietly for a time, basking in the ease of a Saturday morning. Having recovered, William said, "Now, I believe you owe me a reading about one of your dreams, hmm…"
"Yes, yes, most definitely," she replied. She stirred, finding her journal on the night table. She laid down on her stomach on the bed, elbows pressed into the mattress, chin cupped in her hands, with the journal opened in front of her. On his side next to her, William rested his head in one of his hands, leaving the other hand free to play with his wife's curls and explore her bare shoulders and back while she read.
It started out just like a memory. William and I were working on the Richard Hartley murder case. We had walked together through the woods to the Club's boat house. The deeper we went in the woods the more isolated we became. By the time we walked into the boat house, I felt we were the only two people in the world. William started looking through the oars. I hung back, allowing our distance to increase.
He asked, "So, you are a member here?"
"Well, my family is," I replied.
Lifting oars up one by one and twisting them to catch the light, searching to find one that matched the sliver of wood I had found, he said, "You must find it very stimulating."
After a big sigh I let him know that I found it quite, "tiresome." As I walked over to him, I felt a sly smile slide onto my face and I asked, "What do you find stimulating, William?" thinking of the blue liquid rising up in the tube.
He seemed a bit thrown off-guard by my question. I believe he even blushed. He quickly cleared his throat and held up one of the oars, "Solving mysteries," he said. "Briggs' oar doesn't match the sliver, but it does have blood on it," he continued. The blood was still wet, indicating someone was trying to frame Horace Briggs. William's face exuded the cocky happiness it gets when he has figured something out.
The oar between us, I leaned in and challenged, "So, besides solving cases, what gets your blood pumping, so to speak?"
William placed the oar against the wall and stepped in very close to me. My body responded to his closeness – my heart raced, my breathing deepened. I could smell him. Oh, I really liked the smell of him.
"You do," he said.
As my head began to spin, all I could find to say was, "Oh?"
I felt his chest press against mine and then push against me. He backed me up into a wall, and then he stepped in even more. I couldn't breathe. My knees felt weak. His rough, calloused hands fondled the contours of my face. My insides twirled and spun.
"I can't stop thinking about you. Since the moment I met you, I've known it – known you were the one that had my heart," he whispered.
I had to wrap my arms around him to remain standing as he tilted his face, moved in and kissed me. The kiss was deep, passionate, demanding. He released my lips only to devour the rest of my face. The next thing I remember we were naked – except William had on only his tie! He lifted me up so only my toes could touch the ground and he penetrated me. I've never felt anything so delicious. My moan seemed to hit a note, a chord in him. He went wild, pushing very, very deeply inside of me. It was fast and hazy, and then it seemed to explode, with ripples spreading throughout my whole body. I must have called out his name, because I heard it in my bedroom. I awoke to find myself alone, still out of breath and with my heart pounding, my body still warm and flooded with pleasure. At that moment I regretted not teasing William about what "stimulated" him earlier when I had had the chance. Now it seemed further and further way from when his lie detector revealed his feelings for me. I find myself doubting it. Maybe I was wrong – perhaps he doesn't love me after all.
"Believe me, he did," William said as he reached over and closed her journal. He pushed it over to the side of the bed and rolled her over, quickly covering her with his body. "It seems, Mrs. Murdoch, that you can write some rather titillating literature of your own," he said right before he kissed her, initiating another fiery round of lovemaking.
Eventually they got around to ordering some French toast for breakfast. Eating together at the small table in their suite, they discussed the journal entries.
Julia questioned, "Don't you find it interesting that each of us wrote about dreams in which the other has their way with us, where the other is the aggressor?"
"Well, I think we both enjoy that in reality as well… Although I do quite like having my way with you as well… Maybe it was because early on each of us was unsure whether or not our feelings were requited…" he pondered.
"And so our dreams fulfilled our subconscious wishes that the other would tell us that they felt the same way as we did … Wise," she concluded.
"William, Umm, Why did it take you so long to ask me out after that day with the lie detector? I mean you had to know that I knew you had romantic feelings for me after that. And I'm pretty sure I didn't send out any discouraging signals. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but there were even times when I teased you – like when I said you seemed very interested in Dr. Tash because you were drilling me about my past with him," Julia wondered.
They cleared the dishes to be sent back down to the kitchen as William answered, "There actually is a pretty good reason for that, at least it made a lot of sense to me. I wrote about it, so we can share what I was thinking at the time.
He took a seat on the couch and pulled his journal into his lap. Julia sat down next to him.
He read:
Mortifying – mortifying to be seen as so low, so insignificant as to be sent to the service entrance. Even my badge was not respected. To be seen as "riff-raff" – rabble. But then to have Julia see me being put so low … Even worse, she had to get me in. She and I are from different worlds. I never really saw it before. I knew she came from a wealthy family – associated with TOFFs, but I saw those as reconcilable differences – things that could make the one more intriguing to the other. I didn't get the exclusivity of her world. I don't know what I was thinking – my head and heart full of schoolboy dreams. To think someone like her could ever be interested in me, that she was meant for me, that she was the one I would marry…
Julia sat up taller. She reached over to lift his face out of the journal, "William, you were thinking of marriage so early on?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's the way I'm wired Julia, love and marriage go together, at least for me," he explained. She leaned in and kissed him. Then she pulled back, lifted an eyebrow at him and said, "It surprises me, but it's somewhat charming." She settled in closer to him and they both turned their attention back to his journal.
Minerva Fairchild, like royalty – "can't let her feelings show." Julia must have been the same … But she said she escaped, got herself free of such a life. Perhaps her ability to walk away from that life means she could love someone like me, someone from a poor family, no formal education, employed in a low-class job as a police detective. There is such angst. I just don't know. I can't tell.
My heart wants her, and try as I might to tell it not to, the heart wants what it wants. It doesn't listen to reason. But reason must win out. I have to accept that ours will be a relationship of friendship only. I am respected as her colleague. At least if I keep my boundaries, hide my inappropriate feelings for her, we can be friends. In that way I can still have her – even if it doesn't feel like it's enough, it is better than her feeling awkward and us being disconnected, with me feeling ashamed. She seems to be able to relate to me comfortably, even after that event with pneumograph. I'm sure she could tell it was not intentional. I need to just keep it in check so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe that's the best I can get.
"The end," he said, closing the journal.
"Hmm …" Julia started. "Well I never really thought about what that must have been like for you to have to be rescued from your being put down by that snobby maître d' by me," she gave, "I see it now."
He nodded, "It was embarrassing."
Julia pulled back and caught his eyes. She sighed and said, "You know William, I think you were right when you wrote that our differences make us more interesting to each other. I am so impressed with your resilience, and I think you also admire my ability to find a deeper meaning in my life than walking around feeling superior to others because I was born into a well-to-do family…"
William nodded, "Indeed," he said.
She turned to sit facing him, pulling her legs up in front of her on the couch. "But then how did you ever overcome your decision to accept our being merely friends? What happened to get you to try engaging me in a romantic relationship with you?" she asked.
"That is such a great question, Julia," William teased, "I guess it will have to wait to be seen in our next journal journey," he said with a grin as he put the journal down on the table. He stood and offered her a hand. "Now, Mrs. Murdoch, I would like to take you out for a walk on this beautiful Saturday."
"Well, I'd be delighted," she replied, taking his arm as they went together to the bedroom to finally change out of their pajamas.