The Pleasuring of Kaylee, Part 3

Malcolm Reynolds met Kaylee while she was walking head down and concentrating in the corridor outside Jayne’s quarters. She looked to be dirt-smeared but cute in a spring-born lamb kind of way. “Hey, Kaylee. What’s news?”

His mechanic stopped short and squeaked in surprise, putting out one hand against the hallway wall, “Uh, hi, Cap’n. Didn’t see you, I musta been wool-gathering.” She shifted from one foot to the other, placing hands on hips. “Ummm, how’s Jayne doing?”

“Good, real good. Doc’s been to see him so I know the verdict ain’t just wishful thinking. According to Simon and Jayne, it seems your good works’ve been part of the cure. Benefits of that’ll be paying off in credits if my plans for ill-gotten gains go shiny. Jayne’s gun-hand representing our little group looks to be a key element so his bein’ healthy’ll be the difference between paid and broke.”

He smiled at her absent-mindedly, thoughts locked on the further workings of The Plan.

“Inara told me you took him something to eat this morning. Did he get it down alright,?” she asked, making conversation but also wanting to find out if Jayne still needed her to bring him something to break his fast.

Trucking a meal down to him yesterday had been a means to communion between them. Might work that way again. Doing for him today might be a good way to get said what needed saying.

There was talking to be done. Inara had been right to suggest it. A quick ripping of the bandage and then she (and he) could go on from there. Which ever way the wind blew them.

No matter what happened, Jayne’s little lover was tired of the waiting, the wondering and the wounding it brought to her mind.

“Ate four strawberry baos, some powdered eggs Book liquefied and scrambled up for him and downed two cans of milk,” Mal answered, one side of his mouth smiling at her as he spoke. “I’d say he did alright, inhaled it all as if it was air and he was suffocating from the lack.”

No meal-taking then. Answer received, Kaylee put small talk aside, had her own purpose in mind and wanted to get to it. “Is it okay for me to say hi to him, or is he sleeping?,” she asked.

“Simon and I just walked Jayne to the shower, he needed some help making the trip. Insisted he could get there on his own, but Simon wasn’t taking no chances on a fall sending the patient back to the infirmary. Funny, nobody’s ever accused Jayne of being worrisome over personal hygiene before. Maybe the rap on his head’s done us all a favor if it brings us a cleaner-smelling man.”

“Shiny. Thanks for the update, Cap’n,” Kaylee delivered this as she headed toward Jayne’s last known location ma-shong. She needed to face him before her courage fled, and that meant now, no matter whether the surroundings included steamy water or not.

The sole object of her attention was still inside the shower when she reached there. The outside door to the small room was closed but not latched. She stood outside, forehead pressed to the portal for a minute, then walked on in, closing the door silently behind her and facing the shower in the corner, girded up for the encounter. She needn’t have worried about making a little noise or about confronting him just then.

Jayne’s back was to the room, his shoulders rising above the water vapor that shifted all around him like a lover’s hottest breath. He was soaping his hair, face turned up into the spray, then shook his head like a terrier as he rinsed. Seemed content to let the water’s force pound the back of his neck after that.

Kaylee swallowed and followed the line of him down from otter-sleek head past heavy mountainous terrain of shoulders and back. Her gaze passed over the inhospitable mist-covered areas and settled on one hard buttock that played peek-a-boo through the flumes. She swallowed again. Took a large dry linen towel down off a rack and settled into a stance of watchful waiting.

There was plenty to watch and she’d never mind if the waiting lasted for a week. He soaped under his arms, then turned this way and that to allow water to cleanse away the soap.

Her eyes were adhered to the man as he stepped a little back from the shower head, took the cake of soap and vigorously lathered his genitalia. She couldn’t see it, exactly, but knew that to be his destination due to his spread legs, slightly bent knees, elbows jutting back and forth as he laved himself clean, then rinsed. Grateful for something to lean on, Kaylee edged her way nearer to a storage closet a few feet from the shower under an exhaust fan that was currently switched on. She had keen need of something to lean on at that moment, and it would provide a handy place to duck beside when he turned around to face what he had every reason to expect would be an empty shower room.

Just as she moved to the cover, he about-faced, rinsing his back, eyes forward. Didn’t see Kaylee, wasn’t looking for anybody, although his mind had been seeing Kaylee all the previous night and all of today too.

Woulda liked to spend some quality time with her now, even if only in his head, allow his hands to work himself imagining it was her. Mal’d told him to hurry, though. He wanted to talk to Jayne and Zoe ‘bout the shanghaiing of a payroll.

Truth to tell, Jayne was in a hurry his own self to get back to earning his keep. A flush money bag was a thing o’ beauty and a joy for-fecking-ever, but also might be a help to getting Kaylee something nice.

She liked nice things, even though her job left her in work clothes and smudged most times. He liked what he saw her in, no matter what it was. Liked her even more nekkid. Had seen it with his own eyes in his own bunk so he knew what he was talkin’ about.

There it went again. He turned off the hot and cold water, shoved the nekkidness of Kaylee outta his gorram mind and opened the shower door, looking down at the threshold so as to not trip while getting out.

The steam from the open door rolled out onto something standing on the terrycloth bath mat just outside. Jayne jumped, hands reaching for weapons that weren’t on his wet naked hip.

“Kaylee!,” he yelped at the sight of her, linen towel in hand, chestnut hair fluffed around her pretty face from the room’s humidity. “I didn’t, ummm, I wasn’t…”

She didn’t say much, and her expression said even less as she grated, “Turn around.”

He did.

Complying with any Kaylee request was becoming second nature to Jayne. He didn’t even have to think about it, just did whatever she asked because what she asked him was for his good. His back was safely to her now and he searched for something to say, anything that might be charming and calm-producing at a time like this. Nothing came to him. What would Simon say?

Jayne’s brain function revved up a notch toward guilt, thinking her request for him to turn around might be on account of her embarrassment at the bold sight of him, pure overhead lights of the room limning his swingin’ cod, hanging out there all to hell and back. He thought to cup his privates from view, but trashed the thought.

He wanted, needed to see where this would go and no more hiding might be the way to provoke some kind, any kind of conversation. She was all he’d been thinking about and talking had to be the way out of his current mental predicament.

He took a deep breath to start in on saying something, even if it was wrong, when he felt the first firm gliding touch of her hand through the linen cloth. She toweled the back of his head and neck, moved on to the breadth of shoulders and dipped in at the small of his back.

He should have been cold, the water on him cooling as the room’s temperature penetrated through the open door of the shower. He was red hot though, not a shiver to spare.

The big wet man let all his breath go at the first touch of her, leaned on his bent arms on the shower wall while involuntarily and simultaneously pushing his body out toward her reach.

She took the cloth up to his right armpit, “Raise your wing,” dried under there, moved to the other side, Jayne, the quick study that he was where she was concerned, raised his other “wing” without needing to be asked. She turned the dampening cloth over and smoothed it over one of his hips, then the other.

His head turned as far around as it could to look down at her, trying to catch a look at her expression, but she was bending down to kneel at his heels. He faced the wall, afraid to look anymore, frankly fearing he was losing his mind again, happily hallucinating his heart’s, his body’s desire made flesh right here and gorram now.

From her kneeling position on the bath mat, Kaylee reached the cloth up to his firm buttocks, rubbing as if they were stepping stones to be lightly polished. He flexed a bit and she smiled, pulling her cloth-covered hand down to the juncture of his thighs, hesitating just the tiniest instant, then plowing down one of his legs and up the other almost before his upper thighs had a chance to part in vain hopes of further delving toward his balls and staff. Surely THERE was a wet place in need of some industrious drying.

Jayne’s shower assistant made the slightest pleased “mmm-ing” noise deep in her throat at his eager reaction, but Jayne was breathing so hard and loud that he’d never heard it. If he could see her face just then, he’d not be worried so much about what he needed to say in order for her to find him charming. Non-verbal communication was working a goddamn miracle.

The back of him all properly dry, she uttered, “Turn around,” again and he did.

And his cock nearly hit her in the head.

He bent down a little as if to raise her up by her arms but she stopped the motion-- hell, stopped his breath-- by cupping his cock and balls in her linen-swathed hands.

Well, somebody throw him a squirrel and let him ride a cab to nut town. He was about to go completely insane and it looked to be a very good place to be.

Kaylee was looking straight up into his stunned face as she worked the towel beneath him, above him and around him, drying his nethers off. She carefully gently slowly and easily took the towel’s edge to behind his nutsack and slowly swept it back under it and over it, and cupped first one ball, then the other. She had a need to dry him off especially carefully in this area, prior to an even stronger need to re-wettify them herself.

Inara was wrong. Words weren’t what was needed here. Kaylee and Jayne had not exchanged more than a dozen words here in the shower room. Talking was over-rated.

She filled her eyes with his face and form, filled her sinuses with his soap-clean smell, with the underlying leather and tobacco smell of the man. Filled her ears with his hard-won breathing, a difficulty she was the glad cause of, and filled her hands with the lovely weight of his jutting manhood.

And just in case there was any possibility that Kaylee might actually need to do some speaking, just because she didn’t want to voice any words since she didn’t have anything pretty to say, she stopped the need for speech by flipping the damp towel over one shoulder, gripping the base of his shaft in her hand, balls in the other and filled her mouth with Jayne.

ma-shong – on the double gorram – god damn, or gosh darn