Sunday, November 30, 2008
A trip to the desert with the intention of breaking back in. Who did I meet but Smooth... Long knots in his hair, wearing a sarong, tired red and dazed eyes. He laughed when I tied a knot in the balloon, said I made his day. Rubbed my back and said, work in progress. Told me about the rock star dinner and that cinched it.
The guts it took for me to put on my lacies, throw a dress over my braless body, and find his camp. So much guts that I hung around like a groupie for half an hour, waiting to catch his eye. So many nerves jangling that I didn't even realize that Lazy wasn't him.
Eventual connection was made. Yay! he says, you came back! I gave him a necklace I fashioned from wood, bone and glass, in anticipation of the gratitude I would hopefully later feel.
He takes me under his wing. Says he can let me try the drug if I want. I want and he does. He assures me he will look out for me, keep me safe. I want for nothing. We wander and walk and hike across the playa. We see the circus, the temple, the sheep. He is attached tonight, he tells another. The drug won't work.
We arrive at his tent. The dryness ends in a waterfall. Like birth water breaking, I remember how a hard cock feels, how to move, how to squeeze. He smiles up at me in wonder and exclaims, you're a gusher!
The desert soaks me up. The spell is broken. I am ready.