Between Two Waters

This is my entry for the 750 Word Project 2022. I hope you enjoy it!

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She's standing on the causeway between two waters, and she's beautiful and tall and wears a dress the same color as the carnation that flutters in her hair.

A slow fire burns slowly insider her. I can tell by the light in her eyes and the way she holds her cigarette limply at the side of her hip.

"I want to kiss you now," she whispers so lowly that the words are almost lost in the wind.

I met her for the first time yesterday at a café in a sunny plaza beneath blushing orange trees. She sat across the plaza from me and drank an espresso. She smiled at me when she caught my eyes.

I'm meeting her on this causeway now because she asked me to meet her here. We are alone on the causeway.

She faces east, towards the Mediterranean, towards the howling Levante wind that comes from the Sahara. Her eyes are unblinking, fixed to mine. Their color is a deep blue of the sort I've seen once in a garden in Marrakech. Her dress blows westward towards the Atlantic and hugs her body tightly. Her hair shimmers in the red sunglow like how the Sahara shimmers. I imagine that some of the Sahara sand is in her hair, and perhaps it is the sand that shimmers.

Slow ships crawl across the strait. Beyond them, the distant Atlas Mountains lay like lazy giants beneath purple clouds, and Tangier glimmers like stars. She smokes her cigarette, and she curls her lips into a wry shape and adds,

"Then I want to put my hand down your skirt."

If I protested, it would come out of me only meekly. But I don't protest, as I want her to do what she says she'll do. So, I say nothing.

She sees my desire and gives me a smug smile, drags again on her cigarette, and blows smoke that dissipates quickly.

"Now sit on that rock," she demands.

I oblige and sit on the rock, continuing to say nothing, staying acquiescent, obedient. I face the Levante, and I shyly keep my thighs together. My shivering hands clutch the hem of my skirt to keep it from riding up past my knees.

My heart beats strongly against my chest. I know nothing about this woman, except that I want her kiss and touch, and I'm surprised and excited as I never wanted this from a woman before.

She sidles next to me, puts her hand with the cigarette in it against the back of my head, and pulls my face to hers. I hold my breath. My mouth hangs half open permissively.

Her mouth is warm. Her tongue tastes slightly of the tobacco. It's a bitter taste, but I like it. I like the softness of her tongue and how it explores my mouth.

It is cold on the causeway, but my body melts. I melt into her. I smell jasmine on her neck, and the scent reminds me of the narrow streets of the Albaicín in Granada.

Her hand slides down my front and passes across my breasts, abdomen, and into the top of my skirt. I'm already wet down there, and shortly she discover this.

With delight, she watches the shock on my face from the feel of her crawling fingers.

I flinch as she pinches my pubic hair and again as her forefinger grazes my tender bud and slides into the crevice between my wet labia lips.

Her finger curls into a hook and penetrates me briefly, and I let out a sharp gasp and cover my mouth as if my gasp might give us away. But there's only us on the causeway, and it is dark now, as the sun has set into the ocean.

She takes her hand out from my skirt and inspects her slick finger briefly, then she stares out across the strait to a passing ship and finishes her cigarette. I watch the ship with her. The carnation in her hair breaks loose and flutters off with the Levante. She doesn't notice that it is gone.

For a moment, we sit quietly, and I am buzzing inside. When the stars finally come up over the lazy mountains, she lights another cigarette and she stands and says,

"Come to my place. I have a nice Rioja I'd like you to try."

I let her take me there. I enjoy a good Rioja, but there is more there than a Rioja I'd like to try.

The End.

Its a challenge to write with such a word limit, but a fun challenge. Thank you for reading it and, as always, I would love to hear any feedback you have in the comments below or by email.

Inspired by the song Entre Dos Aguas by Paco de Lucía