Harm and Mac continue their wonderful weekend at the Manly Arms courtesy of the Harmy Board who found it in the first place. No physics in this one.

Usual disclaimers: don’t own them, Bellisarious Productions and Paramount does. No filthy lucre is changing hands, we’re all just having fun.

Birthday Series Part 11

The Naked Truth

Manly Arms B&B
Harm & Mac’s Room
Sunday, Oct. 26, 2003
1830 Local

Harm’s propped up against the headboard of this enormous king-sized bed. Jeez, who needs this much real estate to sleep in? I’m kind of casually draped over him.

We’re both naked and smell great from our bubble bath. (Note to self, let Harm do the shopping for bath products from now on.)

He’s paging through the brochure that describes ‘everything about everything around here’ as I just relax. Relax deeper than I think I have in my whole life. If this isn’t really happening, if I really passed out and fell into a coma when Harm walked into his apartment wearing spandex running pants and a smile, I hope the doctors are kind enough to just pull the plug. I never want to wake up from this.

I’ve never been all that comfortable with being naked. Sure, as a Marine I’ve had plenty of times when I’ve been in communal shower situations. But that’s different than being naked with a man. At least it is to me.

Naked is vulnerable. Naked is exposing everything. Hmm, no wonder I’ve never been quite comfortable with it.

But with Harm. Wow, this is a whole new day. We made love for the first time just 28 hours and, not sure how to mark this. From when he turned to me on the couch? Picked me up and carried me to the bed? Got my clothes off? Got his clothes off? Oh well, maybe I don’t need to be able to pin a precise time on it.

Now where was I? Oh yes, thinking about being naked with Harm. A little sigh seeps out.

“Hey Mac, you getting sleepy?” he asks.

“No Harm, just relaxing.”
“OK, ‘cause I figure you’re gonna be hungry real soon and I’m reading about the restaurants around here. Since it’s Sunday night, I’m betting we won’t have too much trouble getting in anywhere, but maybe we should pick out one or two and call first.”

He’s really taken to this ‘us as a couple, he’s gonna take care of me’ thing. Seems natural to him.

Feels natural to me, too.

Just like this being naked thing.

Gotta work this out. It seems important. The 6-year-old girl is tugging on my sleeve (metaphorically speaking since I’m not wearing a stitch). OK, let me just rest my cheek on this strong chest and figure it out.

Got the naked, exposed thing covered (yeah, yeah, a complete nonsequitur, I know). I realize that with all the other men I’ve been with, when I’ve been naked they never saw me. They leered at my body, but they never saw me.

When I’m naked with Harm, he still sees me. Sure, he appreciates my body (oh does he!) but he never stops seeing me. Oh man, there I go again falling deeper in love with him. I wonder what the depth is now? Maybe I should call Sturgis and check on crush depth. I’m not sure if I can handle being any more in love with this man. Oh, yes I can.

Now, for the flip side. Harm being naked. Gee, let’s just stop a moment and contemplate that. Harm naked. It’s enough to make me believe in reincarnation. He had to be the model for Michaelangelo.

Other men I’ve been with, they were either self-conscious about being naked, or strutted around like they were showing off. Both a big turn off. (Why did I ever hang out with guys who were a turn off? Need to get back to that one.)

Not Harm. Harm naked is just like Harm clothed, minus the clothes. He doesn’t strut or pose, although god knows he would look great doing either. He’s just him. It’s like he doesn’t recognize the difference between being naked and being dressed. I guess that’s what ‘being comfortable with yourself’ is all about.

What a man. And he’s mine. Really mine? Yes, really mine. I sigh again and give him a little hug.

“Mac?”

“Yes Harm?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing special, just kinda drifting around.” Hoping he’s gonna buy that. Not a chance.
“Annnnt,” he makes a noise like a buzzer on a bad game show. “Don’t think so Mac. You’ve sighed twice and now you just gave me a sweet squeeze. Fess up.”

It’s the JAG investigator again. He’s like a dog with a bone. I know he won’t let go of this but for some perverse reason (maybe years of facing off with him in the courtroom?) I just can’t fold this easy.

“Really, Harm. It was nothing. I’m just kinda drifting along not thinking about anything.”

Cobra man strikes again. I had been sort of halfway covering the top of his body. Suddenly I’m underneath and he most definitely has the drop on me.

“Joou know, vee have vays to make you talk,” he’s doing such a bad WW2 German accent I can’t help laughing.

He keeps me pinned with his wonderful, glorious, magnificent body (am I gonna have to confess that part too?) while his hands move to my sides.

“No Harm, don’t tickle me. Please, no. I’ll tell you anything!” I’m laughing so hard before he even touches me that I can barely speak.

“Vee have vays.” He repeats as I squirm under him.

This squirming under him is really fun. And I’ve just noticed it seems to have had an effect on him too.

“So do we!” I reply triumphantly. Hey, he may be the cobra man, but I’m still the Marine Colonel. Flip flop, I’m on top.

“Oh, Mac, how’d you do that?” He seems sincerely interested but I know it’s a sham. All misdirection to change my focus.

“Same way I did this,” wow, I’m getting pretty randy here, rocking my pelvis against him.

“Is this the sexually voracious Mac I haven’t seen yet?” he asks politely.

How can he be polite at a moment like this? Oh yes, just part of this little game.

“No, she’s much higher octane than this,” I purr as I rub against him.

He gulped. He gulped. He actually gulped! OK, the score’s still 3-1 in his favor, but I got him to gulp! Hoo-rah!

Dinner’s gonna be a little late tonight. Fini for now, still working on it.