Sun, Stone, Sea

Something must have changed in her voice as she described what she saw, for the men were stroking faster and she could see by their kind faces that they were near their orgasms. And when she saw that - saw their faces grow trembly and vulnerable and holy (there was no other word for it), holy with the inevitability of climax, she understood, as if she had received a message from the universe, that she was about to cum too.

It had crept up on her; then, in an instant, all the pent-up tension was released, all the edging and denial was redeemed, and she sang as her body rose off the straw mat - the floaty feeling again, but a hundred times stronger, so strong she believed she was actually floating.

She rose and hovered in the warm light and the spiced air of the little shop, and the men were singing too, in their way, as their fisted hands stroked, each a blur, and she understood them, she knew their words, their fuck words and their cum words, and she shivered and bucked with joy as their orgasmós flowed through their bodies, as their spérma leapt from their cocks to anoint her, she felt the heat of it on her skin, the thick warm delicate salt-sweet essence of them, bathing her and comforting her and teaching her.

Because now at last she saw, now she could say that she had seen, she could say, "Yes Sir, Yes Greg, Yes Master, I see, I finally, finally see - "

*****

He was shaking her gently, his hand on her shoulder. She woke to dry air and a sense of fullness in her ears, the high whine of a jet in descent, and an almost total sense of estrangement from herself. Greg took her hand in his and squeezed it. "You were out like a light," he said. "I thought I should wake you before we landed, to keep your ears from popping."

She nodded and reached for her purse with her free hand, wanting her compact and her lipstick. She could not shake the feeling that she'd just crossed a borderline from another form of consciousness. But she couldn't talk about it. It was all too strange. Where she had been was more real than where she was now.

"...we still have a long drive after we land, and then a boat ride," Greg was saying. "It will be awfully late when we get there."

She leaned her head against his shoulder as the plane banked for landing.

"You'll love the town," he said.

"Will we swim?" she asked.

"All the time."

"And we'll meet Valeria... when?"

He looked at her quizzically.

"I'm perplexed," he said. Then he said, "Ohhh."

She tilted her head to look up at him.

"What was it about?" he said. "Your dream."

Sun, she thought. Stone. Greek gods. The wine-dark sea.

"It was about you," she said. It was the first lie she'd ever told him.