It is the end of a very long day of a very long week. Seems every other call and visit involves an intense flu virus that’s sweeping through our county like an invading army. Few escape untouched.

Susan walks in for the last appointment of the day looking like one of the recent victims. Classic symptoms, a story heard a couple dozen times today. After listening to her symptoms, a simple exam looking for bad beasties in eyes, nose and throat. Moving behind her, a light touch to neck glands brings a flinch and then, gradual relaxation. Lingering for a few moments, massaging her neck and shoulders, the stirrings begin, noticeable in us both.

Next, the regular spiel: rest, water, these herbs, those meds. Ha! Rest. I always say it first. It never seems to register, especially out here. Ranchers, loggers, farmers don’t get sick days. Can’t call in sick ‘cuz there’s no one to call in to.

Susan nods her head and looks miserable enough to follow some of the advice, probably not rest. A mother of three young children she’s in supermom mode and normal human requirements like sleep, food and exercise aren’t on the agenda. Usually they just want something so they can keep going. Personally, I consider it malpractice, which means bad practice. Push ourselves when we really need to rest leads to all kinds of disease. Bad practice.

Of course, when you are 22 none of that seems relevant. Susan takes the herbs, writes down the meds, doesn’t get up. I’m ready to go home. She’s just sitting there.

“Anything else?”

In the corner of my vision I notice Wolf materialize and her presence changes the air in the room. My tired senses sharpen and I listen more closely. Susan looks from side to side then stares out the window toward the mountains. Wolf paces the room and circles repeatedly around her.

Over the years I’ve learned patience and the importance of listening. I sit and feel the earth and listen to my breath, Wolf’s breath and Susan’s breath. The sun is starting to set and golden light fills the room.

A tear forms in Susan’s eye. She quickly brushes it away. I smile. She looks at her lap, then me, several times. Wolf curls up at her feet.

“Gina said… I should talk with you.”

Of course. Here we go. Wolf doesn’t appear for a pesky flu virus. The tears keep coming and she gives up wiping them away.

“She said… she said you helped her.”

A deep breath and Gina’s story flows through the room. Wolf settles in. I feel my heartbeat along with Wolf’s and Susan’s and Gina’s.

“Yes, Gina and I worked together. Did she tell you about it?”

Susan shakes her head no. No, of course. She never does. And, her intuition is golden. I scoot my chair forward until our knees touch and take Susan’s hands in mine.

“What’s going on?”

She pauses. “Everything… everything is screwed up…there are nightmares, almost every night. Violent.  I wake up in a cold sweat and exhausted, then the kids need me.  My husband is gone most of the time.” She begins to tremble, her eyes darting sideways seeing if anyone can hear. “I feel like I’m in the nightmare all day, then all night. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I think… I’m going crazy,” comes stumbling out followed by deep sighs, more tears. 

I smile. I’m working on a sign for the front door: it takes a little bit of crazy just to enter.

I slide one knee between hers and pull her closer as she unravels and falls apart in my arms and it all comes spilling out. The pent up suffering unwinds and Wolf rises to walk a circle around us. A flitting movement in the corner appears and I feel the shadows drawn to suffering. When they sense Wolf they stop cold. Some flee immediately, some retreat a bit and watch, waiting for an opening.

Wolf is the name, image, symbol for my great-grandmother, whom I never met. I actually don’t know if it is her exactly or some combination, permutation or gestalt of her. Whatever and whoever, I appreciate the support. I’ve dealt with the shadows by myself before. I know.

The elders call me an old soul; this isn’t my first rodeo. I know things that I’ve never been taught because I know Wolf. And Coyote. Coyote is Wolf’s great-grandfather. There are others as well, before and after. Wolf and Coyote visit most frequently. From Coyote to me is six generations and that’s just one short link in a continual chain of healers, shaman and witches that extends for millennia. The names change through the centuries, the work is the same.

Susan’s breath is calming down and she softens into my embrace. Relieved of some suffering, her face is soft, open and relaxed. The shadows draw near, Wolf snaps her jaw and they flee. For the moment. Wolf slides her head under my hand and I hear Susan’s story flow through my heart.

She stirs a bit then sits back. “I don’t know what to do….”

I smile, “That’s okay.”

She’s puzzled, “How did you help Gina?”

“We talked.”

“You talked? That’s it?,” incredulously.

“Well, yes and no. We talked and then,” these first words are always the most challenging, “we also had tea.”

Susan erupts in laughter that borders on then slides right into hysteria. “Tea? You’re kidding me… Tea?” This moment is close to a very intense edge. I chuckle. “You’re telling me tea? I need a major antidepressant… Tea?” And the tears return and a gentle pull brings her into my chest.

Step one and she hasn’t bolted from the room. Good sign.

Gina can read these women well. She knows because she’s been there and we walked that path together. At some level they see that in her and trust enough to show up. They don’t all come, some not for a while. When they do….

Wolf is one you don’t mess with. Even if she loves you there is a firmness and strength that accepts no foolishness. Coyote is different. He’s a jokester and a prankster and he laughs most all the time. When Coyote stops laughing is the time to pay close attention.

They mostly appear separately, though sometimes together. The bond between them is difficult to describe. He teases her, she snaps at him. It would be the mistake of many lifetimes to try to get between them. They seem like brother and sister that have seen everything over many centuries. The bond runs deep. The love is palpable. The strength is steel and the power is formidable. I learn from them and those they learn from.

In Wolf’s time it was a phase of epidemics. Smallpox, typhoid, rabies could take out most of a town in a year. Coyote dealt with war, an ongoing war that never let up. And not just the casualties of war, also the torture and fear and starvation and enslavement that ripples outward. They call it collateral damage.

That’s Susan’s diagnosis: collateral damage. There’s not an ICD insurance code for it; therefore, its not considered real. The current treatment is, frankly, primitive.

Susan moves back and visibly pulls herself together. Step two: Supermom resurfaces. “You’ve gotta have something better than tea.” She looks at me like maybe I’m the one that is crazy, not her. Professionals call this projection.

Whether Coyote or Wolf or me, healers, shaman, witches have all been crazy. Often we are hermits in a mountain cave, banished to the deep dark forest, or barely tolerated at the extreme edge of the village. Parents warn their children of us and tell scary stories. Until the child’s fever won’t break or the bleeding won’t stop or the broken body is dying. Then, they bring them to us. And leave as fast as they can. Humans are a funny species.

Susan looks expectantly for an answer. I listen to my breath and feel roots from my feet sink into the earth. Wolf shakes her mane and settles down. One shadow inches closer.

I look toward the window and Susan’s gaze follows. The sun has set and following is an evolving sky canvas of blue to purple to black. Somewhere in that transition, Venus emerges and the lesser stars follow. This moment is why I am here. It’s a precious moment, so full of…everything. A human life on a precipice. Subtle. A balance. Movement can go off in infinite directions. Pure potential. Quiet.

“It is so beautiful.”

Susan nods, still gazing at the dusk sky.

“And you are just as beautiful.”

Then, the tears return and she crumples in her chair.

I continue, “You trust Gina?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She’s…got it together.”

“One day, she walked in here just like you.”

“No way. She’s so strong.”

“Yep.”

“She didn’t take antidepressants?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not going to give me any, are you?”

“I’d rather not.”

Another long pause. Susan looks me directly in the eyes from some far-off place that seems like forever.

“Gina did this?”

I nod. Something shifts, Wolf rises, the shadows disappear to wherever they go. Softly, Susan says, “Okay. What’s next?”

“We find a time to get together at my place, not here.”

“To do what?”

“Talk. We need to let it out.”

She looks uncertain, “And have tea?”

“Yes, and have tea.”

And she laughs, a soft little sighing laugh. Step three: she laughs. Good sign. Gina can get them to the door. They each have to walk through.

                                    ___________________________

Two decades of formal education did not prepare me for this visit. That training has value in certain situations, not for what will follow Susan through the door.

Coyote taught me this kind of preparation. The night before I sit quietly most of the evening, letting the debris and flotsam of the day, week and month dissolve. When it feels calm, I slip into my bed outside under the great oak drifting along with the stars, soft breeze and critter sounds. When I hear Coyote, I find that in-between place, not awake, not asleep. Then, we take a journey together.

In this state, I can keep up with him, in fact, it is effortless, mainly because I ride the wind with him. We head up the ridge line and follow a sky trail he knows well and I’m slowly learning. Some places are terrestrial and familiar, some are not. Occasionally, he pauses at a giant fir and lifts his hind leg, looking seriously at me, then erupts in howling laughter. He might find the scent to get back, not sure I could.

Tonight we move through a fiery skyscape. Searing heat seems to burn something off, maybe karma, without any obvious damage. The heat is mesmerizing, total, and feels like the center of our sun. After several looping spirals through the fire we dive into a mountain core. The first time we did this I balked and came to sprawled on the ground with a goose egg on my forehead and a splitting headache.  Since then I’ve learned to relax into it.

We alight on the floor of a stadium size, cavernous room.  A blue light appears from Coyote’s chest and expands until the entire space is illuminated. Coyote settles in and I follow. Stillness and quiet permeate the air, space, rocks, us. 

Eventually I begin to hear a story of how the next day will unfold. Not like watching a movie, more like sitting next to a river with eyes closed while feeling and hearing it flow. Currents. Many currents. Not just the story, also all the elements, variables and dynamics at play beneath, around and intertwined within the story that are not always seen at the surface. There is no cause and effect. There is no guarantee how it unfolds; it can move in infinite directions. Awareness of the context can be useful in the moment.

Everything quiets again for a long while. I open my eyes sitting on my bed under the oak tree watching the pre-dawn sky subtly shift colors. Coyote sits for a few moments and gets up to leave whispering, Rest, then go to the river.

I sit with the dawn feeling empty and clean. Something about dawn touches my spirit like nothing else. Others go to movies, a concert, a ballet. I sit with the dawn.

When the birds begin their morning chorus, I rise to meet this day. Even though chill night air lingers, the internal heat of the night journey remains. Walking through the garden, I listen to the chattering plants and see if they need tending. I nibble a leaf here and there, less from hunger, more for combining their essence with mine. After a journey like that, I often don’t eat for days; no need to.

The rising sun slowly warms the ground, mist whispers linger over the river. I slip off my clothes and step into the water, the coolness welcome after the heat from the night. With each step the water rises, covering ankles and knees then thighs. As it floods my pelvis, I feel my pussy tighten sending a rippling response up my spine. I sink down to my neck and let my friend bathe me.

Grabbing a hollow reed to breathe, I slip under the surface and float, weightless, dark, quiet. River’s currents fondle my body like a lover and it responds in kind. Each liquid touch of awakens a part of me. The sensations are exquisite, subtle, rhythmic, flowing, a full-bodied continuous caress.

The sexual buzz intensifies. I feel it echoing from cells to brain, from hard nipples to clit. On another day, I’d stay longer; today there is more to do. Standing, water cascades from head to shoulders, curve of breasts and pert nipples to rounded hips. Sunlight shoots sparkles through the water drops and the full-body arousal grows.

I move slowly and fluidly, like river water itself, to the center current. Here there is a place where I can lie down, feet braced against rocks, and let a small waterfall angle over my head. The pulsating, coursing current cleanses deeply and feels invigorating, from crown to toes. My breasts bob up and down with the flow, their nipples hardening more with these sensations. Vibrations flowing through my body are continuous, the river never letting up.

I turn around, propping my legs on the rocks allowing the cascading waterfall directly onto my pussy. My pelvis floats in the water, rocking back and forth as the current pounds continuously against my swollen clit.  

Arousal shifts to ecstasy and I follow wherever it leads, a huge broad swath across the universe. River doesn’t stop and neither do I. I stand it continues. I walk toward the shore and it continues. It feels like walking on water, my spirit body floating above, lifting this physical body higher.

Walking is exquisite. Soft, warm, yielding earth, prickly grass and pebbles tease my soles. I lie naked on my favorite rocks, letting the river water bead and drip, the warm morning sun baking my body. It is luscious to be immersed in this ecstasy, as if I’ve never left the river. Warm pressure of round rocks against my back and bottom. Sun beam pulsing into my chest. A continuous deep cello throb reverberates from perineum to clit, ovaries, heart, pineal gland creating a vibrating crystal body capable of subtle energetic transformations. Pure potential.

The sun continues its natural journey through the sky. River has its journey. So do I.

                                     ________________________________________

Living at the end of the road has advantages like, seeing people approach a half mile away. When Susan’s flatbed leaves the highway, a dust cloud kicks up as it hits the dirt road. Better than a doorbell. Standing on the porch, I watch as she bounces out of the rig: blonde ponytail, dusty jeans, tattered work shirt and red bandanna around her neck. Classic rancher girl just out of the barn. I feel my pussy throb. Her boots hit the porch and I hug her, smelling straw, dirt, sweat. The throbbing intensifies.

“Come on in.”

“Sorry I’m a mess. Just barely got the chores done and didn’t have time.” I place a finger on her lips. She seems relieved. A brief tour of the small farmhouse and we finish at the kitchen. Two steaming teacups await, I offer her one.

“This the tea?,” She asks with a giggle.

“Yep.”

“What’s in it? Doesn’t smell like Lipton’s.”

She sniffs and waits for an answer before trying it. I chuckle, “No, not Lipton’s. Just some herbs from the garden.” I take a sip, she watches to see if I turn green or die, then takes a small taste.

“Here, let me show you the garden.” We walk out back and I give her the tour, showing off this or that flower. “This one is in the tea. This one, too.”

She points at a vine, “How about that?”

“No, for another time, maybe.”

She continues to drink her tea as we walk around raised beds. Vegetables and herbs intermingle in a wildness that doesn’t look like a typical garden. “Why so many weeds?”

“Not weeds, they’re medicine.”

“Oh, come on, dandelion, that’s a weed.”

“The leaves are more nutritious than spinach. The root is a fantastic detoxifier, relieves headaches & migraines. Flowers make a great wine.”

Susan looks at me sideways, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Laughing, “No, not from here. Taste this one….”

She nibbles, “mmmm… very lemony”

“Now try this.”

She nibbles again and puckers her lips, “Wow… bitter.”

“Yeah, bitter is good for you.” By the time we return to the house, she’s finished the tea and seems much more relaxed.

“Kick off your boots.”

“Where can I clean up?”

“Bathroom’s in there.”

I sit, relishing the throb and its echoes. I scan the room, everything in place. Eyes closed, I do the same inside.

Susan returns with her hair brushed, face clean, work shirt gone. Underneath is a light blue, summer tank top. I check the urge to drool from my mouth, can’t and don’t want to stop the drool lower down. She walks barefoot around the room, looking, lifting, weighing each item carefully. Already she looks years younger than a few days ago.

“You must like rocks!”

“Yep.”

“And plants.”

“Yep.”

“These photos, where did you get them?”

“I took them. Some places I’ve been.”

“So beautiful… I’d like to go there,” pointing to a moonrise over a snowcapped peak. She makes a few circuits and finally settles on the couch with me. I’ve refilled her teacup. She takes it with both hands, feet on the table, pulls her knees to her chest and sits quietly. The stretch of her jeans along her hip creates a perfect curve. A deep gong reverberates in the background.

Sun beams through the window, buzzing insects dance in light, a soft breeze starts the wind chimes. I’m enjoying the quiet, she starts to fidget.

“Okay, I’m here. Now what?”

“How’s your tea?”

“Great. What am I supposed to do now?” She looks around. “I just don’t know what to do….” And it begins.

“Tell me about it.”

The story tumbles out. Married at 17 to her high school boyfriend, Mark, because she got pregnant. It all seemed right. He was fun and sweet and they were good together, even after the first baby. She loved being a mom and she loved him and life was so good. Some of the church folk didn’t approve and showed it. She didn’t care. She’d show them.

After high school graduation, Mark couldn’t find any full-time work and wasn’t interested in college. He decided to join the Army, like his father and uncle did. She followed him from base to base. Then, the second baby came. After that, Mark was deployed to Iraq. Susan didn’t mind the military wife role, hardly noticed with two kids. And there were always lots of wives with kids like her wherever they ended up.

Mark finished his tour and nine months later came baby three. Everything was going good. Then, Mark went on a second tour, this time, Afghanistan. At first after he returned, it seemed like before. But then, gradually, Susan started noticing something different.

“I couldn’t say exactly what, but something was different. He didn’t talk as much. He started drinking more, sometimes by himself.” She fidgets with her teacup and her eyes tear. “He didn’t play with the kids as much and often yelled at them.” The tears start falling. She looks desperately around the room, as if there was some place to escape saying this. “After a while, the kids started to be afraid of him…,” her voice trails off and she stops.

She fiddles and fidgets, twists and turns. I move closer and extend my hand. She takes hold like it was a lifeline. “That’s pretty bad when your kids are scared of their dad,” she says matter-of-factly, as if talking about someone else in the room.

“After a while he said he’d had enough and didn’t re-up. We moved back here to his parent’s place, helping out with the ranch. He got seasonal work fighting fires, that’s where he is now, down south. Other times he picks up work in the forest. Honestly, it’s better when he’s gone,” she says dryly and stone cold.

“His grandmother helps with the kids; they are at her place now. Without her, I couldn’t… I couldn’t do this.” I smile deeply looking around the room at all of Wolf’s gifts.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. We can’t do it without them.”

I move to sit next to her, putting my arm around her shoulders. She leans into me. Quiet for a while and then, “We hardly talk much anymore, we don’t do fun stuff together. He hardly touches me. Well, he fucks me, but he doesn’t touch me. Does that make sense?” she questions pleadingly, looking through tear filled eyes for an answer that would make it all go away.

“Yeah, I get it. He fucks you, he doesn’t touch you.”

Hearing me repeat her words unleashes remaining pent-up feelings and she collapses into me, sobbing. We sit like this for a while. Just sitting. Quiet. Sobs. Sniffles. Quiet.

Finally, “Just talking about it gives me a headache. It feels like my throat is crammed full, my stomach hurts and I could puke. God, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.” I brush her forehead and rub her temples. “That feels good.”

“Let’s go outside, it’s nicer out there.” We walk out to the bed/couch under the oak tree. I sit cross legged at the end of the couch. “Lay your head in my lap and lie down. I can work on some points on your neck and head for the headache.” She gets comfortable and so do I. Her face is tense, troubled. She seems exhausted from carrying it all around.

Cradling her face, I let my hands do what they do best: find this point and then another, feeling, pressing, gentle stroking. Susan sighs a few times, her face softening. I feel the tension dropping away. Until her eyes pop open, looking me straight in the eye.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

I shake my head, meaning, I’m not trying.

I return, “Are you seducing me?”

Frowning, she looks thoughtful, chewing her lower lip. “I’m not sure….”

Placing palms over her eyes, ‘Good answer.’

I continue gently stroking her face, pressing points on her neck. Simple touch brings a softening, more relaxation then softer breaths and she lays limp in my hands. I relax, too and wait, pulling a cloak up, touching ba gua: earth, sky, fire, water, wind, thunder, lake, mountain.

                                ______________________________________________

The brilliant sun softens as some black clouds move in from the west. A small breeze grows slightly stronger. Gradually, the sky darkens and wind begins whipping tree branches; Storm moving in. Eyes half open, half closed, I keep watch. It doesn’t take long before smoky wisps form finger shadows trailing through some brush. Slowly an inky gargoyle looking creature appears, bulging eyes and sharp canine teeth.  The odor swirling around it smells like greed and decay. Searching, it quickly zeroes in on Susan’s vulnerable form.

I scan the room for Wolf and Coyote, nowhere to be seen, though they are there in the back, somewhere. This one is up to me. I call it continuing education.

Its eyes light up and a snaky tongue licks cracked lips. Susan licks her lips. It takes a step forward and she turns toward it, her eyes darting under closed lids. From its groin a prick appears growing huge, a sword waving side to side, leaking copious fluids.

I’ve seen enough. I let the cloak drop and touch the earth, vibrations rippling outward from the core. It briefly glances my way and returns to Susan, taking another step. I pulse through my spine down to the earth bouncing back up to the sky, vibrations increasing. It pauses, curiously looking at me, sizing me up, searching for access.

Simply, kindly I say, She is not yours.

It jerks its head, the prick falters then eyes glare, Is she yours?, through croaks and grunts.

Yes.

Then, I’ll take you first.

It steps forward and I rise tall. It stops. Gazing intently at my eyes, it hangs its head and turns to leave. Then quickly spins full circle.  I’m expecting this, a rookie move.  What I don’t expect is to see its face soften, dissolve and reform as my mother on her dying bed. My heart skips a beat, and in that instant a scaly tail quickly wraps around my ankle and starts moving up my leg, drawing me down. It starts panting and growing in size.

The intense, shooting pain up my leg serves as focus and an embryonic breath pulses down, reverbs up. As the shift from solid to fluid happens, the me dissolves. Its tail, with nothing to grasp, recoils back to the shadow causing it to stumble back, confused.

Pointing to a star, just left of Polaris, I say kindly, What you need is there. It looks intently, quizzically at me, my pointing finger and steps forward.

I point again and say firmly, What you need is there.

It glances furtively past my finger and quickly looks back at me, zeroing in, calculating, malice growing. I touch the core of the clearest, deepest water of caring and repeat softly, What you need is there.

Its head turns slow motion and looks off toward the star, searching, not seeing, until its eyes change. It deflates a bit. Its chest drawn toward the star source, legs dragging behind, resistance tearing it apart. Its eyes slowly roll toward me, the silent question forms.

I smile.

It turns toward the star and something gives way as a swirly wind dissolves form and smoke rises toward the star.

Listening to the silence, my gaze takes in desert to the south, mountains to the west. Deep black of the sky is as close as my fingertips. I feel the pulsing of earth responding to the other planets. A song with several part harmony emerges that’s never been heard before.

The shift from fluid to solid is bittersweet. I love this place and all its solid silliness. I also know deeply that fluid is home. I’ve done this enough to know the process well, which includes understanding that one time I’ll stay fluid. For now, I return. 

The transition can be intense, constricting, even suffocating. I take a breath, it eases. Another breath, it eases more. Solid eyes focus down on the form cradled in my lap, remembering why return.

                                         Collateral Healing

Sky is clear. Storm blew through. Wolf flows by for a moment sniffing the air, licking my face. It’s her way of saying, ‘Did good, girl.’ Then, she nods toward my ankle, Have her help you with that. I look down to see a massive bruise spiraling around my ankle and moving up my leg. 

As Wolf dissolves, Susan sighs and stirs, stretches and lifts her head. “I feel a lot better, thank you.” She looks like a different person. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, for a little while. You were tired.”

“I need to pee.”

Pointing, “Behind that tree is good.”

I scan my ankle, sensing the damage until I look up at Susan’s return and suddenly forget all about the ankle. She’s carrying her jeans and stops in front of me, flashing a wicked smile, hands on hips. “I took my jeans off, they were dirty. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Me? Mind? No, I don’t mind at all.”

Tossing the jeans, Susan crawls up my side. “I’ve been thinking about your question and I’ve decided… I am trying to seduce you.” She burrows into my neck.

“You’re doing a great job of it.”

She starts softly purring and everything in me responds. Quietly, shyly, “I’ve never done anything like this before… have you?” I nod.

“I… I don’t really know what to do….”

“Do what feels natural.” 

Susan considers for a moment. “These clothes don’t seem very natural,” as she begins stripping down.

Laughing, “I agree,” and follow her lead.

Skin to skin raises the energy level, my clit starts to pulse.  She squirms a bit then whispers in my ear, “What now?”

I slip two fingers under her chin, turning her face toward mine. “Do what you like done, sweetie.”

“Oh…”, she pauses for a few moments, sits up, straddles my lap and brings her lips to mine in the faintest of touches. She tosses her head back and forth, pony tail flipping, lips barely brushing mine as I shiver with the sensations. Hands hold my head as she takes her sweet time. Her pelvis starts rocking into me. It is delicious and divine.

Her lips press more firmly and I respond as well. I feel her starting to pant and open my lips to take it in. She presses harder, her whole body pinning me to the couch. Her tongue probing and caressing anything in reach. She’s insistent and strong and forceful and… hungry. I feel devoured. This dance continues for the most exquisite time. Panting, she breaks away, “I feel kind of faint.”

“Here, lie on top of me.” I guide her along my length. “Okay?”

“Yeah, just need to catch my breath.”

“I know CPR.”

Laughing, “Yeah, I guess you would.”

We lay still, quietly for a few moments, feeling each other’s heart beat, her breasts pulsing into me. The heat from her pussy spreads to me as well. She begins to rub all along me.

“This isn’t helping me settle down.”

I pull her face to mine. “You don’t have to hold back,” kissing her softly.

Her kisses become more insistent, stronger than before. Her tongue invades and explores and demands. I’m happy to comply. She starts rubbing her breasts against mine, circles, pushing, dancing. She angles her pussy to match mine and the friction is lovely. I can feel the heat pulsing off of her, freed from the hunger finally met. I open to it, allowing river to feed her.

The tension and pace mount, she’s almost frantic, panting, moaning into my mouth and I absorb it all. I feel taken, ravaged, consumed. She stiffens for a moment then explodes in a fury of movement I can only ride. Finally she falls, exhausted into my arms.

The weight of her body on top of me it is so right. Each point of contact pulses between us. Her breath, my heart, her breasts, my chest. Her sweat mixes with mine, we slide so easily together. I feel her glistening juices coat me. I could stay like this for a very long time.

Her face rests against my neck, like it was home, her breath soft and sweet. She starts to stir and I roll us on our sides, nose to nose. Her eyelids flutter, butterflies testing wings. Slowly they open, taking a moment to register me, her, “What… happened?”

“Well, I think they call that an orgasm, maybe.”

She blushes deeply. “Oh…my, I’m…that was intense.”

“Yeah, I loved it.” Blushing more deeply she hides in my neck. The stillness doesn’t last long as fingers reach out to trace intimate patterns on skin.

“I haven’t felt anything quite like that.”

Sitting up, I start to arrange our nest. Starting to stand, I wince and fall back on the bed, grabbing my ankle. Oh, yeah, my ankle. Susan sits up, “What’s wrong?” Her eyes follow my hands down to my ankle. “What happened?” I move to show her a large bruise. It’s growing as we watch and seems to swell with each heartbeat.

Susan’s eyes move slow motion from my ankle to my eyes, then side to side. And then again. Frowning, she closes her eyes, chews on her lower lip. If my ankle didn’t hurt so much, I might giggle. Wheels turning. Wheels turning. Her eyes pop open and pierce right through me.

“Your ankle…I had a dream…you….” She looks like she could lose it very easily. “You?…Were you in the dream?” Before I can answer, “Wait a minute… was it a dream?” Her eyes grow kind of wide. I sit back against the tree, propping my ankle on a pillow. Pulling her to my side, I slide my arm around her and hold tight.

“Take a deep breath.” She does. “Keep doing that.” She calms a little. Looking straight into her eyes, “Let’s talk about it. Tell me your dream.”

She holds me tight, closing her eyes. “It started like they always do. A bad guy is chasing me and I can’t get away. No matter what I do he gains on me. I can’t scream and can barely move. Usually he jumps on me and I fight. The harder I fight the stronger he gets. At some point,” she pauses for a moment, “he rapes me…and more. This time it was different.”

She stops, looks around, stares at me. Sitting up, she pulls knees to chest, considering, looking toward river, brows furrow. She looks at me wordlessly, deeply. I see it all unfolding. She sniffs the air. Ah, yes, Wolf. Susan looks through me to the deepest core. A glance to my ankle and quickly to my face. I return her gaze as deeply. This is a time to be real.

“Were you there?,” in a soft whisper. Meeting her gaze, I smile. Trust is the only way through this. I nod. “He attacked you instead of me?” She looks at my ankle. “He did that, right?” I see the anger rising, and quickly, “You protected me,” and tears form. “Did you kill him?”

“No, we’ve tried for thousands of years to kill, banish, condemn, exorcize, expel, judge and it only feeds them. We’re learning a different way.”

“What happened?”

I said it as simply as possible, “I showed him what he needed.”

She considers that for a moment, looking back at my ankle. “It looks pretty bad.” Tears start rolling down her cheeks.

“Not too bad. I’ve got something for it, do you want to help?”

“Oh, yes… anything.”

“Go to the river and bring back some water, just a handful.” Susan bounces up and trots to the river. Watching her naked bum wiggle lessens the pain.

When she returns, “Now drip it over the ankle, covering it all.” The sun is behind her, glancing off blonde ponytail, naked perfection, sparkling water. As river water drips, throbbing and swelling lessens immediately. Susan watches wide-eyed. “Now, stand over the ankle and slowly squat down. I take her hands to guide her as she does. The lower she goes her luscious pussy lips open wider. She gives me her you’re crazy look and I just nod. “Keep going.” Slowly her spread cunny softly touches my ankle. She stops. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Now just slide around a bit.” Tentative at first, then with more confidence, she closes her eyes and lets her pelvis lead. I rotate my ankle underneath her and apply some upward pressure. Arousal starts growing, nectar flowing from her petals.

“Kind of like riding a horse, huh?” She nods, eyes closed, falling deeper into the sensations. We continue this intimate play until her body shivers in a series of small climaxes. I pull her toward me and kiss her sweaty face, strands of hair plastered to her temple. I lick the sweat away.

She purrs contentedly. Finally she pushes herself up and looks at me then, my ankle. Another look of disbelief, so damn cute. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, priceless. I stand, twirl, and slowly walk toward the river. Now she can admire my ass. 

Standing knee-deep, river thoroughly cleans the ankle. I cup some water and return dripping it over her body. She squeals and twists and starts to laugh. We tumble together for awhile.

“Okay, enough,” she declares. “You have to answer my questions.” I sit up straight and serious and nod as if I will. So demanding, this little one. I’m starting to understand Coyote more.

“What do you want to know?”

Frowning again, so cute.

“Did I imagine your ankle was hurt?”

“No.”

“And it’s not hurt now?”

“Correct.” I stifle a little chuckle.

“But, how…how…what….”

“The river water helped. And, you helped.”

“Really?”

“Well, look and see.” She does.

She considers, very seriously. Piecing things together, connecting the dots.

“Was it a dream?” very quietly.

“Yes and no.”

She pouts and I cave in to a very cute pout.

“Yes, you had a dream, but no, that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“I don’t understand half the things you say.”  Actually, she probably only understands half of that. Still, a quarter is pretty good.

“Listen, Susan.” I focus deeply. “You are a strong dreamer. Some of your dreams are more than just movies running through your head at night. This one was a very powerful, real one.”

“And, you were in it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To help.”

Tears well again, she drapes her arms around my neck and whispers in my ear, “Thank you.” As she softly kisses all around my ear, shivers flow throughout my body.

“Really want to thank me?,” I ask.

“Yes, I do,” as she slips her tongue in my ear.

I pull her around until she is straddling my chest and nudge her upward.  “Squat over my mouth, like you did my ankle.”

Susan is momentarily surprised, yet sees the benefit of this request. “And, this is me thanking you?,” as she slowly lowers her lovely mound to my waiting tongue.

“Yes, oh, absolutely, yes,” as my tongue takes in the bliss of her gratitude.

                                 ______________________________________________

The beauty of a true lover is the quiet time in between, when we absorb the moment, the glistening sweat, the combined aroma.  We trade breath and spit and cum and some small parts of our hearts, too. Sometimes we ask the questions only moments like this provide.

Susan rouses first. “I don’t understand, how did you do that?”

“Do what? Lick your pussy until you came?” 

“No! I’m serious.  I want to know.  How did you get in my dream, make him go away, heal your ankle. How?”

“Actually, it’s not much different than licking your pussy. The best way I know is to show you.” Turning, I pull her backside to me, one hand across her breast, the other cups her mound.

“I like it so far.”

“It gets better. Here’s how we start.” I nibble on her ear as one hand rolls her nipple and the other slides up and down her moist slit.

“Mmmm…Nice start.”

“I’m going to keep doing this...”

“Ahhh…good.”

“And let the arousal grow.”

“No problem.”

“And let it keep building, but don’t slide over into cumming.”

“Why not?”

“It’s easier to show you.”

“Hmmmph…,” sounding very dubious.

I slide one finger into her wetness and twirl. The other hand adds tweaks to her nipples. 

“As you get closer to cumming, do two things. Squeeze and hold my finger,” she clamps down. “Yeah, great. And at the same time, pull your perineum up, like a kegel exercise from pregnancy, remember?”

“Uh huh….”

“Try it.” She does, with great muscle tone. “Good. That’s it. Now, the key is to both squeeze your muscles around my finger and pull your perineum up before you come.”

“Uh huh…”

“When you get close to cumming, then tell me and I’ll stop…you keep squeezing and pulling up.”

“But,…I don’t want you to stop.”

“You wanted to know how I did those things. Give it a try, sweetness.”

Returning to ear nibbles, my fingers pick up the pace. I feel her excitement rising and she’s got the squeeze and pull nailed. When she starts panting, a reminder, “Get close, don’t go over.”

“Okay,…now…stop.”

“Squeeze and pull up, then hold.” She does.

“And again,” she does. I leave my hands motionless. A few minutes and her breathing is more relaxed. “And again.”

A few minutes later, “How’s it feel?”

“I’d rather have cum.”

“I know. It gets better. We’ll do the same thing, except this time...,” I slide two fingers into her.

“Hmmm…even better.”

“Remember, close to the edge, not over.”

Her pelvis begins riding my fingers. I feel her contractions and she reaches the edge much more quickly, “Now!”

I stop. Her body trembles as she rhythmically squeezes her love muscles. She settles and I gently nuzzle her neck. “How’s that?”

“Better.…higher…longer…smoother.”

“You’re doing great. One more time, this time,” I gently insert three fingers and press upward. She moans and her pelvis begins rotating again. As she climbs for the third time, I shift so my breasts press into her back, my mound against her sacrum. As she moves, my slickness coats her and my clit swells.

I match her arousal and do the same thing. She gets closer and I get closer. She’s panting, “Getting close….”

“Me, too. Now, this time we’re together and just hold it and keep squeezing,” I say, as my hand is pumping her pussy.

“Uh…uh...now.” I stop, contract my muscles, exhale down and press my clit into her tailbone, pulling her tightly into me. Another exhale and I let go deeply into fluid state. Energy shoots up my spine through the crown and down her spine to the perineum, back up again over and over again it cycles back and forth. Then…

                                Floating in an ocean, a vast, vast ocean.

                Rhythmic waves wash over and through every cell and neuron.

                    Orgasmic without peak or fall, just continuous. 

            Spacious, vibration, peace, deep, deep immersion, full, total, complete.

                              ______________________________________________      

After awhile Susan stirs and stretches fully, lazily like a cat. She arches her back against me and moves sinuously. I watch the subtle uncoiling.

“What was that?,” she asks quietly. Looking into her eyes, the most accurate response is a shoulder shrug.

“It’s hard to put into words.” Pause. “What did it feel like to you?”

She considers, closing her eyes. “Like cumming only…longer.”

“Yeah, like that.” 

She continues, “Is that what you did in the dream, I mean when you….”

“Yes.”

She considers and searches and tries it all on. “It seemed like you were there and I was there and then… something happened.”

“Yeah, something happened. I call it fluid. There’s a solid you and a solid me and then there are fluids and…they merge.”

“Hmmm….” She considers fluid and merge. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“Yep.”

“Like I wasn’t separate…from you or anything.”

“Yes.”

“That’s what sex is supposed to feel like?”

“It can. And not just sex.”

“Not just sex?”

“Everything can feel like that.”

“I want that again.”

“You can do it anytime.”

“I don’t think I can…by myself.”

“It takes practice.” She looks doubtful. “We can practice together.”

She smiles. “Together?”

“Yes, together.”

“I might need a lot of practice.”

“It takes time.”

After a while, “I had another dream when we did that merge thing. This one is kind of weird.” 

“I specialize in weird.” I pull her back into my chest as she falls into the dream body.

“I’m standing in a field. A woman approaches from the distance, golden red hair flowing behind her. As she gets closer, I know she’s not human. There is something more, like light flowing out of her. When she stops in front of me I look in her eyes and they are as deep as the ocean, blue, with waves. It feels so immense and full and kind. My heart softly says, yes. She says, you’re one of us now.”

Susan is trembling, I draw a blanket over us both. “What does it mean?”

“Seems pretty clear.”

“Was that you?”

“No, not me.”

“Have you seen her?” Wow, this girl is smart.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“She said the same thing.” 

Susan sits up and puts the blanket around her, giving me that penetrating look. It’s so cute. I laugh a Coyote laugh, unrestrained howling. I love that old dog.

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” bursts out of her mouth.

I smile and let Coyote laugh elsewhere.

“Now, that’s a good question.”

I pull her close and begin rubbing her head. It’s working very hard. “Let’s start this way,” massaging her temples. “Today, you told me about several very powerful dreams, right?” She nods, relaxing into the rubbing. “Part of you is a very powerful dreamer. You’re a dreamer. I listen to you, your dreams, your story, your life. Part of me is a very powerful listener. I’m a listener. When those combine....” I  let it go.

She takes it in. “What’s Gina?” Damn bright little one.

“Gina is a seer.”

“Dreamer, listener, seer… is that the us?” 

“Kind of. Partly. A very small part.”

“Oh. Who’s the woman in my dream?”

“I don't know.”

Susan leans into me. I can see the wheels spinning in her head. It’s a lot to take in.

Propped up on an elbow, she looks at me deadly serious. It’s everything I can do to not let loose a Coyote laugh.

“Pastor warns us about people like you, like, all the time.” I smile. “He says people like you’re dangerous and you’re going to hell…and can take us with you.”

I can’t hold the laughter back. She looks offended. I compose myself, put on the serious face. “Do I look, feel or seem in any way dangerous?” She squints hard as if trying to see a tattoo on my forehead that says dangerous. “Close your eyes.” She does. “Listen to your heart.”

After awhile her eyes open. “Not dangerous.”

I draw her close again, continuing, “Pastor is a good man.”

“You know him? Oh, of course you do.”

“Yes, I know most people around here. It’s just…there’s a lot of fear that gets in the way. It’s hard to see things clearly with that much fear.” We snuggle some more. Either I’m not dangerous, or it’s okay to snuggle with dangerous.  Either way is fine by me.

I glance toward the horizon, “The sun’s going down.”

“I need to get home. The kids tire grandma out by dinnertime.” Neither of us move. Finally she gets up, straddles my chest, pinning my arms with her knees. I couldn’t be happier. Folding arms to her chest, she declares, “I love my kids more than anything. I’d never leave them.”

I nod, discreetly trying to brush her puss. “Of course, it’s the right thing.”

She looks away. “I love Mark, too. I can’t leave him. There’s a good man somewhere in there, at least there used to be.”

“There is. He’s fortunate that you see it.”

“You okay with that?”

I smile, nod and lift my head to kiss her lips.

“You’re not making this easy. I don’t want to leave.”

“There’s nothing easier. Here, something to take with you.” Freeing an arm, I slide one finger along her glistening slit, gathering it’s dew. Locking eyes, I bring my finger to my mouth and lick it clean. Rolling her to the side, I cover her with my body and kiss her gently, my tongue bringing its gift along. I sit up, bringing her with me. 

“You can have that whenever you want.”

She glances at the sun, back to me and dives in for one more kiss. Then, she’s up, wiggling into her jeans and walking toward the porch, her firm ass waving farewell. Lucky horse that has her as rider, bareback.

Halfway there she turns, calling out, “Can we have tea again?”

“Absolutely.”

                               ______________________________________________

A plume of dust follows Susan’s rig as she leaves. Settling back against the tree trunk, my spine merges, extends deep into earth, reaches for sky.

I hear river’s continuous flow nearby and feel her inside since our morning together, my clit pulsing with the current. Susan’s taste lingers on my tongue. I tuck it away to savor later. Sun disappears beneath the horizon, it’s fading light illuminates the clouds in reds, pinks, purples.

Coyote comes trotting out of the darkness, settling by my side. We sit quietly together, two old friends comfortable in the silence. I stroke his furry head.

Good job, little one. 

I’m a little surprised at the compliment. It got through.

It happens. Minor. You recovered well.

He sniffs at my ankle, gives it a lick. The last of the damage dissolves.

She’s good. A keeper, I think.

Yes. A pause. Coyote…can you…can you help her?

He laughs, that deep, throaty, belly laugh. Help her? It’s everything I can do to look after you. Besides,” snuggling in closer, not up to me. More silence until the crickets begin their night chorus, the tree frogs join, too. You gonna help her?, he looks up wondering.

Not up to me.

Smiling as only Coyote can, You’re starting to get the hang of this, little one.

We sit together for a while as darkness overcomes light.

Coyote rises, licks my neck, dissolves into the night.

Howling laughter bounces through the canyons.