Sex With The Stars

A #SaturdayScenes from near the beginning of my #RiverNovel .

My readers have been asking what She sees in Him. This scene could help explain it. What do you think of my continuing with sharing what I wrote for the rest of this sex scene?

He puts on his signal, and I look beyond the headlights to anticipate his turning. As he slows down, I wonder if he's pulling over on the shoulder. Perhaps he went the wrong way and he is turning around. As he comes to almost a complete stop, I see a gap in the trees. He pulls in there and follows the path for a while. As the lack of pavement becomes like a washboard, I remember being on a horse, holding my posture the way Maddy taught me, pulling back on the reins to keep at a cool-down trot as we approached the lodge for a night of festivities. I miss Maddy's place.

A clearing opens and reveals a sky that is so glistening with stars, I wonder how there is any room for the deep black sky. I look for a familiar constellation, and then see my star-friend Cassiopeia sitting on her chair, straight up ahead of us.

We go over the crest of a hill, and the stars are shimmering in The River's reflection. He stops and parks the truck and hops out the door. The jeweled River stretches out both ways. I follow him down to the end of the dock, and sit beside him at its edge. His attention drifts away from this place.

I am a speck in the midst of infinity. I am one with All that is out there. The ancient flames in the sky were generated millions of light years ago, yet the darkness is so vast, it could contain millions of planets with life forms that we might recognize as similar to us, and that might be willing to communicate with us, if only we didn't have missiles aimed at them with hair-trigger switches that react to fear. What makes us so vulnerable to fear? It seems to underlie all aggression: we develop excessive appetites from fear of being hungry; we develop into control freaks because of fear of being out of control; we suffocate with love out of fear of being alone; we attack out of fear of being attacked.

My thoughts drift off to sadness until his hand wraps around mine like a heated mitten. I didn't realize that my fingertips had become icy. His comfort spreads through my bloodstream. My heart pumps the sensation to all of my cells. I lean toward him like a magnet, drawn to the source of that warmth. We sit like that, still, the River water dippling on the rocks, filling in the quiet spaces between our breaths. Our breathing synchronizes. Our auras surround us as one sheer curtain. At the edge of that curtain, frogs gullup and owls whoop up "hoo hoo hoo hooHoooo!" Whooping up to make whoopy.

Energy bubbles up in me, making me a little restless. I don't want to disturb this peace, but I get the urge to straddle his lap and press the front of my body on the front of his. I try to release these pangs of temptation with inconspicuous movements of my shoulder, but I can't help but swing my body on to his lap. I laugh, avoiding any sign of disapproval on his face. His arms wrap around me as he lies down on his back. His hands move up to cradle my head in his fingers, and he brings my eager lips down to his. His hands move down to my knees, up my thighs to my hips, and he presses my pelvis on to his, and struggles to wiggle beneath me. He can't wiggle much because his lower legs are still hanging over the edge of the dock. I arch my back in a teasing way, and he rolls me on to my back. I'm burning up now. My skin is aflame with expectation, anticipating a sensual feast. His kisses do not disappoint. They are small and playful now, now deeply connecting, now tenderly caressing, changing like the breezes that sweep across his back.

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Photo credits:
Top photo: Ukraine dnepr at krementchug by Lutz Fischer-Lamprecht. Licensed by Creative Commons Attribution Share Alike 3.0 Unported. Modified by Grace Buchanan.
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