The King at the Door

Manuel watched him.  He stood at the door looking away from the door.  His hands behind his back, gently clasped together.  His gaze across the street towards the park, the green parrots flitting between the tall green trees.  The trees were a much darker green than the parrots. He behaved like a king even when he was incognito.  He simply waited with patience as he knew, although it may take a while, everyone always follows the word of a king.

Manual turned his eyes across to Bathsheba.  She was still bathing as she did every day at this time.  She knew he would be arriving at her door, Manuel had told her to expect him.  She knew who was at her door but she did not hurry. She stood and let the water run off her.  She let the cool dry evening air caress her beautiful naked body, for she was beautiful. The gentle curve on her body implied a fine balance between opulence and necessity.  A physically strong woman who was used to others doing things for her. Her legs were long, they rose to an ample hip and in to a slender waist. Manuel thought about the king imagining those legs wrapped about his waist.

The king was still waiting patiently at the door.

Manuel looked back at Bathsheba.  Her breasts rose and fell as she bent and contorted to rub oil into her skin, she would shine for her king.  When she stood her breasts rose to dark nipples, dark nipples on dark skin. Even from this distance Manuel could see how supple her skin was, how enticing it was.  Bathsheba clipped her hair into place with a gold clasp. She looked up towards where Manual stood on the kings roof. She smiled at Manuel and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement.  From this distance he could not make out how beautiful she was, or how engaging her smile was, but he remembered her face when he had come with the king's message. The king would be visiting her at sunset the next evening.  She had understood. She had taken the pronouncement with grace. She had mentioned her husband in a matter-of-fact tone laced with a touch of sadness, but she had not dwelled on it. If this is what her king required of her then she was his loyal subject.

Manuel looked down at Bathsheba, he looked down from her face, down past her breasts and her stomach to her groin.  To the dark pubic hair and the inward curve. Bathsheba was standing with her legs slightly apart, allowing Manuel to see up the gap between her thighs up to the inward curve.  He wondered how many evenings the king had stood on this roof watching Bathsheba bath. Bathsheba must have noticed him, which was why she accepted the kings proclamation so calmly.  She had expected it.

Bathsheba eventually looked away from the rooftop, away from Manuel.  She slipped on her sadhin and left her courtyard. A moment later Manuel watched the king disappear into the house, then Manuel saw no more.



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