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Some Sex: An Excerpt from The Real Black Dress (c) 2011 - Sedona Leigh

From - The Real Black Dress

(c) 2011

He was behind me then, hands on either side of my head, the length of him pressed against me.  He was mightily roused.  I brought my elbow back to take him in the ribs, but he stepped to the side.  He waited out my struggle, elbows locked over my shoulders to keep me still.

Finally, there was nothing left to fight.  The hollowness inside me had wind blowing through it. A warm wind made of birdsong and Danny’s ragged breath.

When I relaxed in his grip, he growled, “I’ll have ye now.”

I hung there, in the balance of existence.  He waited a heartbeat or a million years - time turned sideways.  The pressure of his hands eased, his touch sliding down my shoulders, plucking at the strings of my top.  I closed my eyes and froze, coherent thought gone in the fervor of emotions and sensations.  The sweat cascaded out of my every pore, open to the small breeze skipping across my skin and ceasing at the press of him, ripe with ferns and salt and the deep smell of man.

My body recognized the call of him, even if my brain did not.   Time sped up, his teeth on my shoulder, his hand clamped in a savage squeeze over one breast. He tore at my shorts with the other.

There was the rough connection to the rocks as he bent us forward, my face pressed against the cool stone.  A chill raced up the fine hairs of my back and neck, leaving me exposed to the elements as he pulled away enough to rip at that which impeded him.

He was on me like a hot blue flame, my knees buckled with the force of it.  Then, I was no longer myself.  No longer a single entity but a merged creature, sliding across his skin, losing my edges against his. Impaled and devoid of gravity.  I could feel the desperation and yearning from him as if it originated in my own guts.  The screams in my head telling me not to think, but feel, shouted their commands in his gravely voice.

“Danny”. 

His arms came around me, releasing their grip from my hips.  He stood us up, slipped out from the recesses that gripped him and turned me around. 

His lips were on mine, hot and rough, like he sought air to keep himself alive.

He lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.  He was back inside of me as I crashed against the boulders. I was jarred out of my body to look down in detached wonder.

His eyes slammed me back as they opened, black and intense on my face.  He tumbled us over the edge and wherever we went it was like falling, not caring that the ground would swallow us up.  I looked up to the canopy that sheltered us and shouted his name in triumph. The edges of the world going dark.

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Thelma, Louise and That Girl - Part 1

Thelma, Louise and That Girl
June 1998
Part One - Who’s That Girl?

In the summer of 1998, I was young, free and widowed (if not a little haggard by the road that got me there).

My son was offered a trip with his grandparents - two weeks in Los Angeles, then a three week tour along the Oregon and Washington coast. Whoa, a month to myself to do as I pleased. So, without Daddy, Boyfriend, Boss or Husband - it was time to hit the open road. But who wants to do that alone? So I called up Laura (now living in Kansas and well recovered from her own Compound Desert Cove experience) and invited her along. Not one to pass up a good time, she immediately booked tickets to come and join me in Phoenix.

I have no idea which one of us would be Thelma or Louise. Both of us back then wanted equal dibs on the alluring combination of Brad Pitt and a sturdy set of chest of drawers. Though I have the better southern accent - so yeah, I woulda been Gena Davis (as evidenced later in the tale).

I was also in my interwebz infancy at the time - six months of finding out that java script chat rooms, MIRC and usenet was full of perverts and wackjobs. I’d found a small corner of my own in cyberspace, in a chat room by the name of the Sports Bar. A small group of us started showing up there during morning coffee and sorta made it home. One of the regulars was That Girl. TG had introduced me to her boyfriend (that her hubby didn’t know anything about), who turned out to be a Really Rich Guy who wanted to make a buck on the whole Dot Com Boom (and hey, he wanted to invest in me!), so in the interest of Investor Relations, I also invited That Girl to join us.

TG was rather hormonally fit and proceeded to rattle off the potential ‘hook ups’ from San Diego running at regular northern intervals along the Pacific Coast Highway. Laura and I were little more laid back in our approach. A bucket of party sounded good enough for us.

Laura arrived at Sky Harbor first and we had a couple of hours wait for TG’s flight to arrive. So we made for the closest bar and started a tab. Eventually, several married couples and business men with equal amounts of time to kill that joined us. I think the human animal can smell freedom in the air and likes it. We didn’t manage to meet TG at the gate, but with the instincts of a homing pigeon, she eventually found us (it wouldn’t be the last time).  I think she even had to drive us home.

At the crack of dawn the next morning - large sunglasses and itty bitty summer attire donned…we three and my little boy climbed into my beat up Toyota and headed for Los Angeles.