California

"What are you doing?"

"Sorry. I just... Why do you keep doing that?"

She breathed, and looked at him for a few seconds, then deciding, pulled the jacket up a bit to reveal her side. There was a scar going along her iliac crest, all the way to her navel. "Think of it like my rabbit's foot. I like to rub it for luck."

"Oh, wow." He stared in wonder at it. She could tell he wanted to touch it. "What's the story behind that?"

"No, I'm done talking about the past." She simply said, then paused, "But..." took his hand and guided it slowly up and down the scarred skin, "...how does that feel?"

"Lucky." he said with a smile, and pulled her in with his other hand. Her eyes closed, and he kissed her again, gently. His lips then slipped away, meeting her chin, then below her ear, and finally rested on her neck. She let out an audible exhale and her body turned noticeably hot.

As he slowly but firmly pushed into her, she tilted her head back and it turned it, her cheek grazing against the wet wood. Her free hand ran through his hair and held tight, and the one holding his slowly guided him downwards, her stomach contracting as it crossed the border of the hem of her shorts, and into her underwear. He was happy to find the carpet matched the drapes, in that there wasn't one, so it was a smooth ride to her opening. Carefully moving inside her folds, he found her clit and started gently massaging it. At the touch of his finger, she almost jumped, but was held down by his weight, as her hand left his and instinctively wrapped around him. He quickly withdrew.

He moved his head up and looked at her face - round, rough, yet gentle - and waited for her to open her eyes. She didn't, but simply pulled his head back into her. The rain was getting louder and louder, and he could feel her shivering. They were covered in mud now, and he wanted so badly to pin her down to the ground right here, caked in the red clay, and have his way with her. All those months of frustration released in the most animalistic of urges, like a snow leopard tearing through a cub to mate with her mother. There was great evil in his mind, and to think only a few hours ago it was imagining the great purity of his perfect woman. I guess you couldn't have one without the other.

She waited for him to do something, anything, to make her feel something beyond just the pit of resigned numbness she was stuck in. There was so much bottled up, so much she had put aside for this reason or that, and she wanted just the tiniest amount of shock, something to wake her up, something to pull her out. It was so bad she could almost cry. She was wet and cold and he was hot and sweaty and it was a situation she had never thought she'd find herself in. She waited... and nothing happened.

He saw tiny pools of tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and she turned her head away from him with a weak whine. Quietly he wiped it away, leaving a trail of red along her cheek. She clutched his arm, tight, her nails making marks in his skin. The immediate had now slowly disappeared.

"D-do you want to get out of here?" He asked nervously.

She nodded, trying to hold it all in.

They drove back completely silently. They were soaked, and feeling warm in the dampness. She wondered if she would start growing mushrooms on her arm, he wondered if he was mushy and stinky enough that a vulture might mistake him for chum. They were both alone and morose and filled with a dread of the big brains of their species. He texted his roommate that they had left, and he'd be back after dropping her home. He got a reply of disappointment that he didn't open, instead he offered her his phone, "Do you want to play some music?"

"Okay." She said absently, and started scrolling through his playlist. She felt tired, exhausted really, and all she wanted to go was go to sleep and wake up to a different life hopefully. The weather was drab, the rain seemed dirty and gloomy now, and the stale air of the car seemed to itch against her wet, mud spotted legs. She scrolled and scrolled, and a little irritated, asked, "Don't you have any Yungblud or Violet Sands or something in here?"

"Who?"

"Never mind." She mumbled with a sigh. Then she came upon a song that lit her eyes up with hope. Spaceman by The Killers started blasting throughout the car and at the first chorus she felt instantly revitalized.

"Oh I love this song." he said with a smirk.

"I love The Killers. Although I don't know how I haven't heard this one before, it's so good."

"It's the best."

"Well I don't know about that, All These Things That I've Done is better."

"Please, everyone loves that one, it's put on a pedestal..."

"...everyone loves it for a reason. Because it's great."

"Come on. Why did you pick this one then?"

"Because that's the first one I recognized."

"Nope, All These Things is in there, so you should've seen it immediately when you open the playlist."

"So maybe I missed it, that doesn't mean anything."

"I don't think so. It's no coincidence you picked this one, it's a cosmic connection. This is after all the song that mentions the Nile changing directions."

"Wait what? Rivers can't change direction, can they?"

"I don't know, they don't flow with blood either, but you're the Egyptian mythology expert, you tell me."

She smiled, "Huh. Cosmic connection huh?"

"Cosmic connection."

"Kinda makes you wonder then what a sick joke the cosmos is playing on us." she said with a returning gloom, regretting the words as they left her mouth.

"Yeah. But as the song goes, it ain't so bad, look down, it's all in your mind." He said awkwardly failing to lighten the mood, and both their smiles faded, and the car was silent again, save for whatever music played for the rest of the ride, of which neither took any special notice.

When he finally pulled the car in beside her apartment, he felt as if a valve of venom had just opened in his heart and all the toxins had just started pouring. He wanted to race back home, punch all the pillows and cry and rage against all the people in his life. He needed someone, everyone, to blame for what his life had turned out to be, and he wanted to drink away whatever was left of it.

"You're shivering." Her feeble voice broke in. "Why don't you come on upstairs? You know, dry yourself, get cleaned up maybe, and I'll get too, so I can, return your jacket... yeah?"

In that moment he felt angry and stupid, he felt pathetic that something like that could suddenly get him excited as if he were a baboon, and there was a guilt forming in him that he always had such thoughts. He wanted to say no, he should've said no, by all rights he should've just gone home because that would've been the logical course of what his life is.

Again he heard her, voice more firm now, hand gently touching his, "Come."

Walking up the stairs of her building, Nin following closely behind, all that went through Sekhmet's head was what a terrible thing she must be doing. This should not have been that easy, she wanted to so bad to not be alone, to have someone want her, and she told herself that she was trying to cling to anything that resembled remotely that feeling of intimacy she imagined on sleepless nights listening to the bitter wind blow against the creaky window panes. But she thought about him, the lingering memory of his red-stained fingers on her skin, the dried mud on her cheek, the invading smell of him on his jacket wrapped cosily around her, and it didn't seem like such a terrible thing. Turning the key in her latch, she decided it wasn't. It wasn't. Today wouldn't count, like so many days these days she told herself didn't count, that they wouldn't define her. She looked at him again before opening the door, a quick glance, and his face was unassuming and stoic as best he could manage, and it made her feel safe, if only in the moment. That was enough for now.

It was still raining heavily out, and the noise of it calmed both their nerves as they entered the little apartment. She showed him the bathroom, but he insisted she go first, he'd wait. She handed him a towel and stepped into the bathroom. In the meantime, he looked around her apartment - the paper scraps on the wall, the typewriter, the fish on the sheets, the ashtray with 5 butts still in there. He picked one of them up and sniffed them, expecting something other than tobacco and rightly being disappointed. It was late afternoon, but the clouds had already taken away most of the light, so he found a switch and turned on the purple lights instead of the main ones, but it was just as well he thought. Her clothes were strewn all over her bed and he resisted the urge to pick up one of them, but his gaze every so often wandered over to them. He then noticed a thin warm smell come to him, and he realized she was taking a hot shower. He sat down on the couch and put the towel over his face, and tried to think about anything else, even though everything in this apartment was dead set on making him imagine her, naked and hot and wet and...

"Hey, I'm done." She said with a nudge. He noticed the small water droplets on her hair, and the oversized t-shirt she was wearing (and nothing else, he presumably thought). He hurried into the bathroom, and the sudden ball of flowery soaped steam blasted him in the face, and it made him go a little weak in the legs. There was still warm water on the floor, slowly making its way to the drain in the corner, and he started to sweat a bit. As he closed his eyes and took his clothes off, he thought about her in here just minutes ago. When he was naked, a little hard, he turned the shower on and quickly cleaned all the mud off his body, dried himself, and waited. He leaned against the wall and wondered what to do next.

She had heard him turn the shower off almost 10 minutes ago, and she suspected for a second him doing something creepy in there, so she knocked. "Are you gonna stay in there all night?"

"Um, I jus- I just realized I have nothing to wear. My clothes are still wet."

She chuckled to herself. What an idiot he could be, it was almost endearing, this naivety. "Oh don't worry about that, I have a dress that'll fit you very well."

A brief silence, and she heard then, "Yeah, I don't think we're the same size, unless you used to be taller and fatter."

"Oh yeah, I used to be really big," she smiled as she rested her head sideways against the door, "My dress could be used as a blanket that'll fit the both of us now."

She heard the knob turn and click, and he said in an anxious voice, "Well, door's unlocked, you can hand it to me."

The door opened slightly, she slipped in, and it closed again with her weight against it as he closed the distance between them. They kissed, her arms were around his neck, his were holding her at the waist. It was a soft, long, quiet kiss, not motivated by lust, desperation, or malice. It was innocent. It felt perfect. They pulled away and quietly looked into each other's eyes. They could read each other without words in that moment, they could think and plan and consider, and they kissed again. As much he wanted to pick her up and pin her against the door right now and release the bulge in his towel against her, and as much as she wanted to get under the hot shower again and take his warm hands on her clit, they didn't. They kissed until they were both giddy and hot and thumping hearts, hands intertwined, and she whispered into his ear, "Wait here."

The door opened and she slipped out again.

The throbbing behind his towel made him impatient, and his anxiety played like the Free Bird solo, and so he paced back and forth, feeling an excitement he hadn't felt in a long time, you know, the good kind. He breathed into his palm, rubbed his toes together, sniffed his armpits, scratched his neck, going through them like a checklist. Then he heard a single piano note repeating, and a lone voice singing, and he instantly pushed the door open. All These Things That I've Done played on speakers to a sight that made his ears burn.

On the bed, she stood her hands behind her back, legs crossed. Her olive skin glowed by candlelight, and a trail of smoke floated from cigarette in the ashtray next to her. They looked at each other as the ethereal organ rose, and there was an uncontrollable grin on both their faces.

"Come here."

"You certainly know how to set the mood." he said as the drums and guitar were picking up.

"It's a great song for a reason." she said as the vocals came back and called them closer.

He walked up to her, stopping only inches away, making her get on her toes and reach his lips. Normally he would've said something, asked her if she was sure, if she was ready, if she wanted him to do something specific, but tonight she had stripped away all his shields, all that which he could use to shield himself from giving in to her. He already had. It was a submissive confidence that he had found, so delicate and exciting. They kissed again, the taste of tobacco forcing itself from her tongue to his, somewhat violent and intoxicating. She reached for his towel and it fell loose with one tug, and for a minute he thought his dick might do the same. Before she could touch him, his hands reached between her thighs and suggested them apart, and she noticed him getting on his knees.

She looked down at him, her hands bracing, and their eyes met briefly before his head partially went under her tee. His fingers gently clutched at her hips, their warmth made her hair slightly stand up, and she twitched ever so slightly feeling his breath on her opening. He clutched her tighter, and kissed her thighs, only to tease her a bit. It definitely worked, because a little discharge rubbed up on his nose and cheek. She couldn't wait any more, and her hand ran through his hair and pushed it in. He gave an audible titter, and tongue out, dragged it from the bottom up, closing down his lips once he found her clit. She stifled a whimper as the texture of his tongue opened up her senses to a shot of pleasure, and started to move rhythmically with each press, lick, and swirl that his tongue made on her.

His nose felt funny, and he thought she felt like a fig and tasted like peaches, but the way her hand held him by the hair tightly and the way she tried to coil her leg around his neck made him want to keep going, giving more and more until she was depending on him to stay upright. When he finally stopped, and her body loosened, she smoothly went to her knees, slipped out of her shirt, and put his arms around him. He palmed her butt with both hands and edged her closer to him, close enough to have some of her juice rub off on his dick. She felt hot, almost burning, and it made him even harder, it made his dick want to be inside her even more. Her head was buried in his neck, and she wasn't making a sound, he only felt her warm breath on his neck. A kiss on the shoulder, he held her affectionately for a minute, and they kissed again.

She finally whispered into his ear, "Do you want me to suck your cock?"

"Mmhm." he squeaked. With one thrust, she pinned him down on the bed, and sucked intensely at his neck, almost biting him a couple of times, before making her way down his chest full of heavy breaths. He felt a little fear and it excited him immensely, as she played her fingers in his bush, then held his gently ran them along his length.

The room felt significantly hotter now, proper balmy, and she felt the sweat forming at her scalp, and on him too. There was something raw about the environment a certain type of humidity created, a slight frenzy that fed the animal side of you, and she felt it now more than ever. Palm on his belly and the other on his hip, she started with a gentle lick. Her tongue was surprisingly cold, and it almost didn't register for him. She moved herself a little, her knees just outside the edge of the bed, and she positioned herself properly, and kissed his tip before slowly taking it in, not losing contact at all along the way. When his tip touched the roof of her mouth, he muttered an "ohh fuck" under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for her. He rested it lightly on her head, the other clutching a pillow, as she bobbed effortlessly on his throbbing dick, occasionally playing with his tip using her tongue. The pulling of skin, pressing of veins, the rubbing of muscles, it made all his thoughts crumble, his sight blind, and his legs independent and cantankerous like weak twigs.

When she went for his balls, sucking on them, while her hand played with his dick like it was a joystick, he had to put his arm over his face, try to contain himself as much as possible. The rush of constant delectation made him almost giggle. She had one hand on his butt now, her knees were chafing, but she could feel his glee, it was almost infectious, and she didn't dare stop. It was a fanciful stage they were at now, a sort of childlike giddiness had been reached, and all the worries and fears of intimacy had disappeared for a while. It was real comfort now, a kind of sexual intimacy akin to finally seeing the coast after being lost at sea. Between his audible breathing and occasional moaning, he muffed out the words, "I- hoh fuck, I want you right now... yes..."

Still between his legs, she moved up to face him, and they looked into each others eyes again. It was hot, and their eyes showed fatigue from the day's activities, and the sweat on her brow collected at the corners. He turned on his side as she rested next to him. He ran his hand along her body, admiring her luminous skin, her curves like the dunes of the desert, and the creases on her face, as if they had just now appeared. He could picture her looking old and satisfied, lying just like this next to him, so peaceful and rested that they would need nothing more in this world than the simple aura of each other. She saw his imperfections too, so many of them, all of them so beautiful, so cruelly alone and ashamed of themselves, so strong yet so powerless, blinded to their own strength. She could remind him, even though it wasn't her job to, even though she wouldn't have a chance to. He could kiss her scar, tell her she's all the things she thinks and more, so much beyond herself, wearing a crown weaved by the threads of her ancestral connections, made strong from the particles of silica of her land, a force to be reckoned with, unimaginable, unknowable, unforgettable, a curse and a blessing, plague and ambrosia, unattainable good and unimaginable evil. They could do all that, sure.

"You know," she whispered as she scratched his chin, "When I woke up this morning, I really didn't think it would end with a stranger in my bed."

He caught her hand and kissed it, pulled her closer, "Interesting, because I woke up today dreaming about my perfect woman."

Her eyes suddenly widened, a panic almost starting to set in, but he said, "And I didn't think I would end up in bed with someone who is the exact opposite of her."

The panic subsided somewhat, but she asked a little offended, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're real, and she's not. You're here, and it feels like a beautiful cosmic surprise. Like I went to the mountain because I had a death wish, but instead I found purpose."

She gave a little smile. "I can understand that. Almost too well."

"Come closer now." he brushed her breast with his finger.

She scooted towards him and as he placed himself over her, she held him tightly, nails ready to dig in, and said with all allure and some trembling, "Now, tell me you want to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before."

"My sweet naughty little fuckbird," he taunted, quoting the one-eyed monster, "I am going to fuck you like I've never fucked anyone before in my life."

She pounced at him, pressing lips, sucking it in, before he felt the ferocious bite on his lower lip. In the ecstasy of the moment he didn't even realize it was bleeding, and her tongue came in before his could to lick off the blood. Later she felt his hand around her neck, keeping her in place as he played with her nipples, taunting them as they stood erect, a flick here, a rub there, his tongue going in circles on them and sucking on them, all the while holding her in place by tightly by her soft little neck. Her nails soon started scratching at his back, scraping off dry skin, and she managed to pull him back up by the head as her legs coiled around him. He sucked at her lips and quickly asked her if she was doing good so far, to which she hummed a reply. Her hand reached for his dick and stroked it briskly, then guided it towards her opening. Pushing in a little, he felt his tip rubbing against her labia, it felt soft and warm, starting to wet. There was the quick whoosh of a pillow being dragged across the bed as he placed it under her lower back, before he took control of his cock and slowly guided it into her tight hole.