Driftwood

"Shut. The fuck. UpI"

"I'm just sayin'."

"Well, don't!"

To add to the distress, Adam's timing was impeccable. He managed to cause little eruptions of lustful tingles and fluttering nerves just at the very moments when she thought she'd start to gain control of herself and function like a regular person. She could actually suppress the weirdness of her situation and imagine that she was on top of things for five minutes now and then. Then a pair of dark eyes would stare at her so intently it burned, a strong hand would land conspicuously on her wrist, or lips in a wonderful smile would utter just the right words to make her legs tremble. Nothing wanton or even semantically sexual, just the right kind of syllables that sounded gorgeous together. It wasn't by design, it couldn't be, he couldn't possibly know all about the turmoil inside of her, and exactly the things that pushed her buttons... could he? She wasn't even sure if he was trying to turn her on, or if all of this was just her reaction to a year starved of physical and social attention. Maybe she was just one big button, and anything that stumbled close enough could trigger it. Trine could just be happy Adam's pants had dried up well after breakfast already, so he didn't walk around a towel-snatch away from full frontal goodness. She would have been a nervous wreck. Or ok, more of a nervous wreck than she already was.

The constant lack of emotional balance kept her mind busy though, and somehow it was easier to struggle with the impracticalities of infatuation than with the bizarre uncertainties of the night before. It wasn't until they were dozing off after dinner, the low sun was casting a red glow outside through a rare opening in the clouds, and the glowing wood of the fireplace was bringing a red tint to their faces, that the real horror hit her like a bucket of icy water. Icy water full of piranhas.

Yes, the trials were far from over. The real battle was still ahead of her. Bedtime was a looming, dark cloud on the horizon. The very word filled her with dread. She just couldn't allow herself to sleep. What if she went all x-rated again? There was no way she was going to risk that, whether Adam was unaware or anticipating a sequel. But neither could she find any believable reason for staying up all night.

So she played merrily along. She made her bed, brushed her teeth, found sheets and blankets for Adam's couch, slipped into bed, said goodnight and turned off the light. She turned against the wall...and pretended to fall asleep, straining her ears to hear if Adam was sleeping. After maybe fifteen minutes of excruciating silence, she turned slowly in bed, and looked at him. To her relief, he was turned towards the room, and she looked into a face with closed eyes and totally relaxed features. Either he was a quality actor, or he was truly asleep. She coughed faintly. No reaction. She sat up in bed. Not the slightest stir. A little more confident now, Trine stood up and sneaked across the room, carefully avoiding the creakiest floorboards. She picked up a pair or extra socks, her warmest woolly jumper, and a long jacket by the door, grabbed her rubber boots, a big, knitted cap, and carefully opened the door. Cold air rushed in, and she snuck out as fast as she could and closed the door behind her. Once outside, in nothing but sweatpants and a t-shirt, the bite of the night hit her with full force. She quickly assembled the clothes she'd taken with her, and also added her baggy army pants that hung dried in the shower shed. Now she was fully prepared to last hours out in the open. At least physically.

The problem wasn't her body though. It was her brain. It had been running on triple speed all day, feeding on worry and wanton in equal amounts, sprinkled with confusion and anger at herself for allowing this loss of control. It couldn't take much more, and was in aching need to just shut down and re-boot. After all the commotion of the day, boredom was something it just didn't know how to handle.

And there was absolutely nothing to do. Not a damn thing but wait. The sky was heavy with clouds and the only source of light within miles was the faint glow of the fireplace inside. If she got up and walked more than ten steps, she'd lose her bearings. She sat down on a small wooden bench by the door and stared out into the darkness. She cursed to herself for not bringing a flashlight, but it was too late now. The wind slapped her softly in the face and she heard waves roar in the distance, but even this became a monotonous, irrelevant hum after a while.

Her only point of reference was a wrist watch with a backlight lcd panel, which she now and then checked for progress. But when she thought she'd shown god-like patience and surely must have wasted an hour or two, the digital arms had ticked on ten minutes. Trine groaned and stifled a yawn. This was going to suck.

Two hours later, she was close to tears. It was like having a stare-down with an hourglass, shaming it to stop dropping grains. Her consciousness was the ever diminishing cone at the top, being relentlessly drained. Sleep was more than a mere seductive suggestion now, it was a physical pull that tugged at her brain with random intervals, and she had to shake her head and breathe deeply to keep paying attention to her sensory input. But of course it was a fight made for losing, and after only a few more minutes, Trine's head dropped forward and her body sagged in a sleep that not even the sharp winds could wake her from.

She dreamed of a towel. That towel. It was not wrapped around a lean man's waist, but spread out in the sand on a wide stretched, sunny beach. She was spread out on the towel. Naked, relaxed and warm under a tropical sun. And although there were people there, a handful in shorts and bikinis, a few fully dressed, at various spots along the beach, she didn't care enough to cover up, but only felt mildly annoyed that she'd forgotten to put on clothes that morning. She stood up without any embarrassment and strolled aimlessly through the sand.

Sleeping and balance are not bedmates, and having given in to the former, there was none of the latter to keep her upright on the bench. With a soft thud, she tipped over and fell to the ground. Not even that woke her up. Behind the veil of dreams, her body registered the impact and the light pain, but folded it neatly and plausibly into the scenery. In her dream, she had for no apparent reason, walked into the side of a suddenly materialized cherry coloured Toyota mini-van. On the beach. As if that was the most normal thing in the world. She apologized to the upset automobile but it kept honking angrily and roared its engine at her. Suddenly scared, she backed away. The brain is a wondrous thing, so critical of senses when awake, so eager for non-sequitur explanations when we sleep.

Creaking hinges found no place in her current dream though, so they shook her out of the depths, away from the beach and the threatening car, into a light and blurry slumber, the no mans land between awake and asleep that is heaven on a lazy Sunday morning, when dream and day-dream are one and the same. A worrying coldness and a mildly hurting shoulder intruded on her peace though. She was vaguely aware of someone talking softly, of arms pulling her up, cradling and lifting her, hands pulling her towards a lean chest under a shirt that smelled of soap and man, and she moved without thinking, threw her arms around her rescuer's neck and snuggled her face up against his shoulder. Who the arms belonged to, she had no idea, and neither did she ask the question. In her state, only the most basic things mattered. They were Arms, she was being Held, it felt Safe.

She was carried a few steps, there was the creaking again, and the chill melted away. She was carefully lowered and her heavy outdoor clothes removed. She obediently held up her arms to have the jumper pulled off and held out her legs so her boots and pants could come off, just like she'd done when she was a little girl. She was tipped back from where she sat into a soft mattress, a blanket with a familiar smell was tucked around her and she felt a pillow shaping itself after her head. She squirmed happily in place and felt the soft fabric embrace her. Somebody kissed her lightly on the forehead and walked away with quiet steps. With a sense of being Home and that all was Good in the world, Trine slept.

-----

5. Stuff of dreams

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Of course, sweetness. I always am. Where else would I be?"

"Yes, you always are. But who are you?"

"Why do you ask?" came the reply out of the shadow.

"I... I don't know."

"Then you shouldn't. No matter, I see you're as ready as ever. Remove your clothes and let me see you."

The last of the sheet slid down to a pile on the floor, and her hands moved as if on puppet strings to her t-shirt, tugging it up, tearing it off. Her pants and panties were yanked down and kicked off in a hurry, now dangling inside out, stuck at her feet. She didn't care. She threw herself back on the mattress, stark naked, and stared at the ceiling.

"This can't go like it used to. I need a change," she announced to the darkness.

"A change, sweetness? What change?"

"This time...you must touch me."

"But why? You're doing so splendidly on your own."

"I am? I don't feel like I do. All I feel is alone and unwanted. Is that what you want? It's dark and cold and you don't want me. Not really. Is that how it should be?"

"Sweetness, that's not you, that's just a state of mind. It can be overcome. Don't you enjoy our times together? You sure seem to love what I do to you.."

"But you don't do anything! I lie here and beg...and you just hide over there.."

"I don't hide. I watch. I'm here for you, am I not?"

"Shut up! No excuses, no tricks. I'm tired of this. You take me for real, or you go away! Come here and put your hands on me! I need you on me, around me, inside of me, right fucking now!"

Her shout died away. There was silence. Dead and utter silence. She thought the whisper might have actually left her, but then came a soft reply.

"Trine, you know I can't. I'm not really here."

But somebody was. Somebody was touching her. A hand laid on her shoulder, gently moving down her arm, she could feel the fingers, the palm, the wonderful sensory sparkle of lean caress shooting up from nerve ends and blooming in her brain. But the room was empty. She saw no hand.

-----

She saw no hand. Then she saw a ghostly outline, a double exposure, the idea of a hand. She saw a hand, an arm, a man, as the room in her dream caught up with the room her eyes registered. With a final gasp, she broke through the surface from real-like dream to dream-like reality.

It was the same room, the same shapes and angles. But the darkness in the corners were much less tangible, there was rustling of wind outside, and an orange light from the fireplace. There was Trine, naked, exposed down to the soft trousers stuck inside-out at her ankles, breath trembling, hair spread out like a tangled halo around her head, big eyes staring in confused wonder at the hand stroking her bare arm. And there was Adam, kneeling by the bed, his eyes shifting in silent amazement between where his hand met her skin, up at her face, and down along her exposed body, glowing red in the ember light.

Thoughts erupted for milliseconds in Trine's head, collided with other thoughts and died down. She tried to speak, but found that she had no idea what to say, or which body parts were used for talking. She tried to move, but couldn't quite reach out to her limbs and let them know. The sensation of his touch was a roaring rush of pleasure, with a side order of panic. The sensation of his gaze on her breasts, belly, legs, labia, almost felt like a physical presence. The realization that she was beyond any hope of keeping her personal sphere to herself, that she was truly opened and exposed in every sense of the word, became the rope that tied her motionless, she simply had no idea how to react, where to go from there. She didn't even know if she wanted to go anywhere. She felt her body bathe in the attention, she felt her flesh swoon, her nipples and pussy tingle as if already caressed, her mouth water with the prospect of kissing, licking, sucking, tasting the man by her side. And at the same time, her spine trickled cold with terror. She wanted to run and hide, she wanted to grab and kiss, she wanted to kick and scream, she wanted to laugh and sing. All at once, and succeeding with nothing.

Instead it was Adam that took action. He continued to stroke her arm, up to her neck, over her shoulder, down to her fingertips and back up, while he spoke in a hushed voice.

"I had the strangest dream last night. I dreamed of the beautiful girl who saved me from a storm and invited me to her house. I dreamed she was...naked, with her hands between her legs. She was...touching herself, panting, moaning, and murmuring things I couldn't hear. Not until the very end, when she told me to touch her, to take her, to...well...fuck her, was the word she used. But I didn't. I didn't dare to move. I was sure that as soon as I did, I'd wake up, and it was just a too amazing dream to lose. But I guess I was wrong. It seems it wasn't a dream after all?"

Not really in control of her voice, but realizing that there was no point in denying it, Trine shook her head. Adam ceased the stroking and looked into her eyes. He smiled. Oh god, he smiled, and Trine knew she was done resisting. She wouldn't crow away, wouldn't hesitate. If he wanted her, she would be his. This would go where it went, and it was out of her hands. As soon as that thought had settled, nothing else mattered. There was no embarrassment, no feeling of intrusion, no fear of anything.

"I've been a wreck all day," Adam continued. "I looked at you and all I could think about was those images. I tried like crazy to figure you out, to find a sign that you were that woman from my dream, that it could possibly be real. But you've messed me up more than any girl ever before. Everything about you is so lovely. From your sweet laughter to your big heart to your funny rock collection. And I know this sound like a Big Dumb Male thing, but I stand by it: I could hardly tear my eyes away from your body. You make my knees shake. I couldn't think straight around you."

Trine stared. She made his knees shake? He couldn't think straight around her? Oh boy, if only he knew. She'd tell him, she made a mental note that she'd tell him of her ordeals. Maybe they could compare notes? But not now. It was too long a story for too short a night.

"So...have you figured me out now?" she simply said, amazed of how easy it was to speak all of a sudden.

Adam blinked, then a smile spread across his face.

"I think I just might have."

Not quite, Trine thought. But close enough.

"Then what are you waiting for?" she said, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for a long, sincere kiss. The tip of her tongue touched his, and the aching need for sleep that betrayed her in the first place became a moot point. She was suddenly not the least bit weary.

It was an exquisite feeling, the shape of a body over her, the feel of muscles flexing against her, like a long lost love coming home. She held on tight and tugged Adam closer and closer, while sucking on his tongue, pressing her lips hard against his. He lost his support and fell down upon her with full weight, his torso pushing down at her breasts, mauling her shape into the mattress. She let out a short grunt, which seemed to worry Adam, who broke the kiss and tried to speak. He didn't get very far though, before Trine tightened her grip around his neck and plunged her tongue into his mouth again. Her whole body spoke to him in pleasurable groans and content squirms when her lips were busy. "I'm okay," she wanted to say. "Go on, don't hesitate. Don't be afraid, I won't break."

Her picture of Adam as careful and nervous was soon put to shame though. He bore down on her with springy enthusiasm, licked at her lips and tasted her tongue just as fiercely as she did, matched her firm grip around her neck by slipping his hands around her naked body and closing in in a tight embrace under her back. She felt his hands pressing into her where she lay, his arms wrapped close and the fabric of his t-shirt rubbing against her nipples. But that was all. He was still sitting on the ground, and as much as Trine swooned in the delight of a kiss long, long overdue and at the blooming wonder of sexual attention, she began to feel the itch from below. Small shivers of pleasure pulsed from within her pussy, letting her know that it was feeling left out. Damn greedy thing, Trine thought.

That was soon to be taken care of though. Holding her tight, Adam leaned backwards and sat her up in bed, he tore his mouth away from hers and ended a kiss that seemed to have gone n for hours, leaving little black dots dancing in front of Trine's eyes. He stood up and she meekly followed, still clinging to his neck and licking salt from the windy day off his cheeks and leaving little butterfly kisses all over his face. Upright, she disengaged and leaned back a little, taking a tiny step back. She was so close to him that she could feel small hairs on her forearm brush against him, and her nipples still trailed softly against the cotton fabric covering Adam. She looked up into his eyes. Dark, gentle, loving, but hungry on an epic scale at the same time. And with a glimmer, a knowing little shine of playfulness. His hands slid down her back to her buttocks, and he squeezed them, resting the tip of a finger between the round cheeks. They just stood there for almost a minute, looking into each others' eyes trading smiles and quite little giggles, a whole conversation of signals not represented by any words in a human tongue. Just lust drunk giddy moods in anticipation of what was yet to come.

When Trine finally made a move, it was with the precision and force of a cruise missile. She knew what she wanted now. More than anything to get beyond any last barrier of privacy. As fast as possible. She had noticed the bulge in his pants, it almost reached out to where she stood, and she had made up her mind right then. This was going all the way, and right now. Before Adam had time to react, she had dropped to her knees with a wooden thump from the floorboards, and pulled his pants and shorts down with her to a pile by his ankles. His cock sprung out and hit her on the nose, and with a joyful laugh she gripped she shaft, pulled back the foreskin and gave the tip of the gland a long, wet lick.

The musky taste spread like wildfire in her mouth, another thing she didn't even remember how much she'd missed. And it had been one of her favourite pastimes. Not for her pleasure, but as the prefect way to make a guy worship her if she did it right. And she always did it right. She had thrived on worship once, sipped adoration like another drug, and every way of getting there was tuned to perfection. But it was different this time. She didn't have to, there was no way for this man to adore her any more without bursting his heart. Usually, this was a commodity for barter, but there was nothing Adam could give her that she knew in her heart she wouldn't get anyway. This time, she gave pleasure merely for the sheer joy or giving. She had to take a second to digest the thought. There really was no other motive. Just pure and giddy happiness from knowing what pleasure her actions gave this man.

She took another lick and ended it with a small but strong sucking kiss right over the little slit. She was rewarded with a drawn out groan from above, and responded by smiling up at him and tugging at the shaft with her hand. She heard a soft rustle behind her. Adam had pulled off his shirt, and was now as naked from the ankles and up as she was. There, now we're even, she thought. As if that would matter anymore. Suddenly the whole silly situation caught up with her, and she couldn't help but laughing a little.