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You’re walking. Following a path; it’s not much of a path, not well marked. It’s more like, someone raked the gravel in the desert and wound it in and out between twenty foot high saguaro cacti; tall green men with thorny prickly skin. Dry brush is scattered around the pebble strewn landscape; tumbleweed? Large rocks mottle the hillside as the path winds higher into bleak hills.
Dry; so dry. The air sucks life from you. The heat beats you down as you trudge your way deeper and higher into desolation; and you ponder, “Why am I here?”
You can’t help but be enthralled with the beauty that surrounds you; engulfs you. Scorching wind steals your breath; you stop. You look around. You see a large rock, or is it a small bolder? And does it even matter; you need to rest, to sit, recoup.
The rock is covered in fine dust but you sit anyway and think; “What brought me here?”
Dust devils swirl nearby; yet you feel no wind. Hear no sound. Only the heat and relentless parched landscape moves you. Moves you to ponder; “What’s missing?”
From behind you, a voice, a woman’s voice; but where did she come from?
You think. “How is she here?”
You turn; a young woman about half your age is standing there. Quit still; mere feet from you. She is decidedly beautiful; clothed in a delicate diaphanous chemise with clearly nothing underneath. It flutters in the hot breeze. Her auburn hair flows over pale freckled shoulders. Her eyes suggest mischief; yet, they are also piercing – peering into your very soul. She takes your breath away, more so, than the desert that surrounds you both.
“Did I startle you?” She asks.
“Yes; you did … a little.” You respond; your mind reeling.
“What … ah … how, I mean … who are you?” You stammer.
“Jess. That’s not important. I think I’m meant to be here.”
“I’m Joan, but how did you … I never heard …” You mutter; your mind whirling in confusion.
“Does it matter? I’m here. You’re here; what else is there?” She says mysteriously, as she steps closer.
“You’re so incredibly beautiful … I … ah, I don’t quite know …” You say, still at a loss.
She comes closer still. Reaches up and places her finger tips on your cheek. You sense her trembling. You tremble yourself, despite the desert furnace you both stand in. Placing your hand over hers, you turn your head slowly and, inexplicably, kiss her palm.
What has moved you to be so brazen with a stranger baffles you.
She shivers; the air shimmers and dust devils still dance as she takes your hand. She lifts your hand and places it on her own cheek and tilts her head; cradling it in your palm
“Why are you … I don’t understand; what’s happening here?” You say.
“I’m not sure; I just need to be here. With you.”
You stand before her bewildered as she tugs at you; grasping your wrist.
“Let’s go.” She whispers; a whisper lost in the rising air.
Insistent, she tugs at your wrist and pulls you up the nebulous path towards a high overhang of beautifully stratified ancient rock. It towers above you both.
“Where are your shoes?” You say, as you notice she has none.
She doesn’t answer. She escort bursa just walks with purpose; upward.
“Doesn’t it hurt? I mean the shoes. Well, no shoes, really” Again, silence is her response.
The massive rock walls resolve as you near them revealing a cleft, an old water course; narrow, but with room enough to walk one behind the other. She enters, pulling you along behind her.
Her thin garment flutters in the hot air that flows down and out of the thin space between the rock walls. They are beautiful. Looking up, you see they’ve been carved over millennia by long vanished streams and raging torrents.
The wind sings through cracks and crevices; the song of the desert,
The girl, Jess, she said her name was, takes you deeper into the heart of the world … cool rock, scorched air. You follow a silent mystery with fiery hair.
The narrow cleft widens slightly; an alcove, or small cave, in the golden brown sandstone appears on the right side as she rounds a corner. Still pulling you along behind, she lowers her head and ducks into the deep dark chamber; you follow. You have no choice, no options, no path home. Oddly, you feel she is your only hope.
She stops in the darkness; you sense this only by the fluttering of her dress against your scorched skin. You halt just before bowling her over.
Still holding your hand, she turns to face you and she places your hand on her waist. She is soft and pliant.
“This is where we need to be,” she whispers. “We’re lost.”
“Oh, that’s okay; I know the way back to my car. It’s not far, we can …”
She pushes up on her toes, pulls you toward her, and brushes her lips lightly over yours. They are dry; almost cracked, like your own. The desert. The tip of her tongue traces the crease between your closed lips; then pushes between them and you are suddenly compelled to pull her into the most passionate kiss of your life. A desperate kiss, a wanting kiss; but whose wanting? Yours? Or hers?
Your arms wrap around her waist; you feel her breasts press against your own. She pulls away from you and speaks; hardly above a whisper.
“We need to be here.” She tells you. “Lost.”
Then it dawns on you with clarity; you know that she is right. You’ve been lost for a very long time.
“It’s alright, we’re here now: where we are supposed to be.” She says softly, insistently.
She embraces you, buries her face in the cruck of your neck. Her arms snake around you and she pulls you close. You feel the silk of your blouse on your back; sweat gluing it to your smoldering skin. You feel her slender fingers stroking you; making you feel secure, safe and sane.
“I need you. You need something; perhaps me. I don’t know.” She tells you.
Your eyes, having finally adjusted to the dark of the cave, see her lift her arms; pulling her chemise over her head. She releases it and the ephemeral material flutters to the rock floor. She stands naked before you.
In silence, she moves closer and unbuttons your blouse; peeling it away from your moist skin. It joins her dress on the floor of the cavern.
She slips her fingers under the straps of your bra; lifts and slides them over your bare shoulders. bursa merkez escort Reaching around, she unhooks the clasp and lets the garment fall away. You are spellbound; immobile, unable to respond other than to feel a wonderful tension build inside yourself. Your belly tightens, flutters; familiar feelings of arousal make you moist. Moisture the desert can’t have; it’s for someone else.
In absolute silence, you feel the young woman’s fingers tug at your skirt; pulling it downward. Her thumbs hook your panties as her fingers slide your skirt down over your hips. She pulls on both and they slip down your thighs; puddling around your ankles.
“We don’t need these.” You hear her whisper, “Just us.”
She kneels down before you and lifts your foot; removing first one shoe, then the other. You’re both naked, in the desert; lost, together.
She stands. She glistens with moisture, as do you; sweat, which will be quickly sucked away by the desert. She puts her arms around you and holds you close; you feel the slipperiness of her skin against yours. Pressed tightly together you hide your wetness from the desert. Her soft warm breasts press against your own; your hard erect nipples gouge into hers. She holds you in a loving embrace and you think again; ‘how did I get here?’
Then you append to that thought: ‘I never want to leave.’
Her soft gentle hands, stroking your back, are soothing: yet, titillating. Her fingertips and nails lightly rake across your skin, sending electricity flashing through your body; but especially, between your legs where a different moisture flows. Your hips press against hers; your mounds come together sliding one over the other in a slow rhythmic dance of desire.
Once lost, you now think you may know the way.
You push her damp hair from her face; your lips meet. Your tongues touch and dance; first inside her mouth, then yours. Her hands shift down to your hips pulling you firmly into her body. Your passion is in the kiss, in glistening skin, in warm bodies getting hotter than the desert wind.
Slowly you both sink to your knees; mouths still together, you hold her head in your hands, feel her soft damp hair between your fingers.
You both moan: whispering unintelligible nothings in each other’s ears. You kiss her neck; she throws her head back, giving you access.
She arches her back offering her breasts: your lips soon find them. Your tongue swirls around turgid nipples; her breathing becomes more rapid. Little gasps escape her throat as your teeth bite gently. She pulls your head into her chest so tightly you’re afraid you’ll bruise her; but she holds on. She holds on for her salvation; and yours.
Still embracing, you both sag to the smooth rock floor of the chamber; remarkably devoid of desert sand. You lie next to one another on the cool stone; limbs entwined, hands roving and taking in intimate knowledge of the other’s body. Lips kissing, tongues tasting; you consume each other lovingly. Longingly.
Her fingers traverse your belly; you hand rests on her thigh. Your mouths remain locked in passion; sharing breath, sharing life. Her legs scissors your thigh; her wet sex pressing bursa escort hard against you. Your fingers explore her wetness, making her groan into your mouth as your kiss reaches new levels of passion. Her hips grind into your leg and your hand. Her fingers grip your breast violently as her whole body goes rigid; you feel her going off to some feminine Nirvana. She thrashes; momentarily out of control.
When she regains herself; you embrace her tenderly. You kiss her face gently as she recovers.
She whispers, “Thank you. I’ve been waiting forever for you.”
Jess gently pushes you back so that you lay on the cool gritty sandstone. She hovers over you, leans down, and places her lips upon your burning skin. Her tongue traces around your nipples; the sensations induce you to arch your back in response and you squeal. You feel the wetness of her tongue slip downward, lingering around your mound. Your hips rise, as though having a mind of its own; forcing her tongue into your slippery crevice. You gasp. Her fingers gingerly spread those lips apart; exposing your naked nub to her flicking tongue.
In no time, you are trembling, your belly tightens, your fists clutch at her hair, your head is thrown back, your mind begins a journey elsewhere; somewhere so intense you must squeeze your eyes tight shut. You are enveloped by darkness, by bliss; you bath in it, relish it, let it consume you.
You vaguely sense your body shuddering, rather than feel it. Your pleasure is so intense you lose track of the world around you. But when you come back to reality, your shudders turn to trembling; not from ecstasy, but from cold. Trembling becomes shivering. You hear clicking: your teeth.
The air is no longer scorching, but frigid. The hard sandstone turns soft. Dark cave morphs into something familiar.
‘But how did I get here,’ you think, confused. The world seems out of focus; bewildered, you close your eyes and in your mind, you grasp at the ephemeral place you just came from. Desperately, you attempt to hang on; there was a beautiful young woman, Jess?
Try as you may, that other (reality?) fades. Oppressive heat replaced by chill, withering dryness by moisture; wetness drips from your eyes as you become overwhelmed by a crippling sadness.
Tears become a torrent as you sit up in your bed. Your arms are wrapped around bare shoulders, goose bumps cover you.
“What happened?” You say aloud to an empty room. Your room. Your bedroom; sadly, occupied only by yourself … for far too long.
You wipe tears from your eyes as … what was her name? … your memory of her recedes further. There was something about her … how she made you feel … something nice; but you can’t really remember.
You look around your room, so familiar, yet so foreign.
‘Hot… it was so hot… and really dry … wasn’t it?’ You think. You feel your lips; they are dry and cracked. ‘How …?’
You are sitting up in your bed; naked. The sheets are thrown back and damp from your sweat; but you’re so cold. You put your hand on the sheets and feel the dampness; but also something else. Gritty…. Like fine grains of sand. Your feet feel like they are covered in sand, as if, you’d been waking at the beach; you wipe them with your fingers but nothing comes off them. They’re clean.
‘How odd,’ you think, ‘I seem to remember … something … somewhere …’
And you weep.
You long for the desert… for her … for what you’ve lost.
Her. Your future.
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