We’d been out at the beach all day freezing our asses off. It was a gorgeous January day. A bright blue shining sky with a warm sun when it wasn’t filtered by clouds. She ran around with her dog. I moved to stand in the patches of sun. My toes were cold.
It was crowded. That bright sun and the clear sky called out to people. The ocean is the ocean, warm or cold. It’s necessary to go take it in when you can. I collected sticks, driftwood, shells. I worked on my sculpture like I always do. Feeling for the soft flat places in the wood that are just right for balancing. I get lost in stacking, balancing, trying to reach impossible heights, watching it collapse and starting over.
We loaded back up in her car and headed to my place. We were going to fuck, but fell asleep fondling each other. We tried. It was when I yawned with her tongue in my mouth that we gave up pretending we had the energy, laughing and feeling frustrated at the same time. Cold days at the beach exhaust me. We slept the whole afternoon. I hate naps. I want to love them but I’m a deep sleeper and waking up from a nap is miserable.
I didn’t want to go out. She chided me until I agreed to walk to the bar. It was crowded and noisy. I sulked and ordered vodka. I drank it quickly, too quickly after the sleepy afternoon. “Fuck it,” I thought and got up to dance. No one was dancing. I danced. She stared. This isn’t like me. I stared back at her and laughed and kept on dancing.
I tried to get her to join me. She just stared in disbelief and turned back to some friends who were there. I danced the dance of the slut, alone on the floor in a space between the bar and the jukebox. There are very few women who will come dance with you when you’re out there on your own like this. I found one.
She had been at a table by herself. She’d been watching me. I saw her. She came near me and stood. She put her hands out towards my hips but didn’t touch me. She smiled at me. She said, “You’re pretty, baby.” “I’m not fucking pretty,” I snapped at her, my cheeks burning red. I hate the word pretty. “You’re sexy,” she corrected, “You’re so goddamn sexy.”
She let herself grab my hips. She stood behind me. I danced and she held my swaying hips in a strong grip. I looked at her over my shoulder. She leaned back a little and watched me while she held on. I moved backwards towards her, giving her permission to pull me against her. She was quick. Her forearm flashed around my waist and I was suddenly held tight against her. Panic jolted through me for a second before it hit me just how turned on I was.
Her hot mouth was on my neck, sucking hard. One hand was flat, fingers splayed on my chest. One hand tugged at my belt. My lover jumped up and grabbed my arm. My arm. As if I was the one to grab. I laughed. I was enveloped. She couldn’t pull me out of this. “Join me,” the woman said. I heard her voice, raspy, in my ear. “Join her,” I smiled. “Let’s go,” one of them said.
It took us a long time to get to my place. I was rolled across the brick buildings and plate glass windows with hands grabbing and pulling at me. I held on to someone’s belt with one hand and grabbed a crotch with the other. I felt her cunt through the thick denim. Someone’s tongue was in my mouth. It must have been the stranger’s because she didn’t taste like my lover. My eyes were mostly closed.
I grabbed at them. They fought for me. Then there was the moment. It froze for me while I spun around taking it in from all angles. I sucked in my breath. My lover smashed up against me, face to face, her knee jammed between my legs. The other pressed her whole body against my back with her arms reaching around me. There were no hands on me but I felt their muscled arms clutching each other. Grabbing and desperate. I didn’t want to move. Then I heard someone on the sidewalk yell out at us. We needed to go.
In my apartment we barely fit on my mattress. I was in the middle of a wrestling match. My clothes were pulled off. I fumbled with their buttons, belts. “Take your socks off,” I insisted. I saw her ass as her jeans came off, the stranger I mean. My lover was on her knees, jerking this fucking hot butch’s jeans down off her ass and I saw her jock strap and then my lover’s blush. I stroked my sweet lover’s head. I kissed her. I pulled her face to the other woman and watched as they kissed and slapped each other. Their open palms slapping at each other’s shoulders.
I ran my fingers down their backs. I touched them where I could, keeping out of the way from their blows. They fucked hard, abandoned. I knelt behind my lover and rubbed against her ass as she fucked this other woman who was now on all fours in front of us. I felt myself fucking her. I wrapped my arms around my lover’s chest and felt her panting breaths as she fucked. As they fucked. I felt a blue surge of power and adrenalin and pure lust. I grabbed a cock from the drawer and leaned against the wall next to the mattress to fuck myself.
They fucked while I watched. After their explosion, they turned to look at me. I showed them. I sat with my knees wide and falling open, fucking myself with a thick cock. They were wet with streaks of lube and cum on their thighs, sweat on their arms and chests and necks. Red faced. Dazed. I felt clear and sober. Staring at them. They knew not to move. Not to come near me.
I knocked my back hard against the plaster when I got off. I held the cock deep inside me and bent forward. They crawled to me, pulling me onto them. My lover took the cock from my hands and toyed with it inside me. Our stranger sucked on my breast. They moved me on top of and over them. I was passed between them. Fucked all night. Bruised and raw. Blessed.