~

It’s not easy for me to share a story like mine. I’m doodling in the sand, thinking about where to begin. Will you understand? I mean, really understand? 

Or will you decide what’s real for me? I’m a writer, so there’s that. You might think it’s just the imagination of a tortured soul. But I’m not tortured. See the perfect heart I just drew.

I guess I should start by telling you I’ve been drawn to water for as long as I can remember. When I was thirteen, Mom let me decorate my room. I picked a blue bedspread, blue curtains, and blue shag carpeting. You see, I wanted to live in a blue world. Make my room my private ocean. Why? Because every night in the bath, I felt held by the water. 

Look at me smiling, sitting here naked with my toes in the surf. But to be honest, a few times, even I’ve questioned if it’s real. If they’re real. But then, like now, they’ll tug my toes on their way back out, letting me know they want me. 

I’ll make them wait a bit… just a short bit, though… while I share pieces of me with you.

~~

It all started with ice…  

He jumped as the hot coffee burned his mouth. Without asking, I scooped a few ice cubes with a spoon from my iced coffee and plopped them into his drink. 

We both watched the cube floating at the top shrink, and when it disappeared, he lifted his cup to his lips, took a sip, and a sexy moan rolled up from his throat. 

His name was Jack. 

He was handsome. Sweet. Something about him was a little awkward, keeping him from being annoyingly perfect. I was immediately attracted.

The best part—his eyes never strayed from me after that successful sip. 

We drank our coffees, then ended up fucking at his place. Yeah, I was really attracted to him. A month had passed since then, and we were still fucking. Actually, we just finished fucking at my place. 

It was a hot day, and my air conditioner wasn’t keeping up. He came to bed with a cup of ice in his hand. “Just returning the favor,” he said before propping one cube against each of my perspiring nipples. We watched me stiffen as the ice began to drip. It wasn’t until he put the largest cube between his teeth and disappeared between my legs that I melted into the sheets. His cock preferred the warmth of my mouth to ice, though. 

We were pillow talking now. He was the first man I slept with who didn't fall asleep after sex.

He was lazily playing with my long hair, swiping the blonde ends across the top of my breasts when he asked, “What happened to the bird?” 

Over my shoulder was the wall with the bird cage filled with artificial flowers. 

“I set it free along with the person who gave it to me.” I snuggled closer, seeking more from him. “No one who’s in sync with me would give me a caged living thing.” 

He followed with a surprising question. "Who was the woman in the restaurant tonight?” 

“You mean Kate?” 

“Who is she to you?”

“Just someone from my past.” 

He began doing that furrowed-brow, slanted-eyes thing. “It’s the way she looked at you, and she scowled at me like I’d taken something from her.”

“Yeah, well, possessive, judgy is her thing. That’s why we broke up.” 

“What?” He pulled away and propped up on an elbow, giving me that same scowl he had just accused Kate of. “You’re bi?”

“No.” 

“You were with a woman and now me. What do you call it?” Another scowl accompanied an edge to his tone. 

I gave him my best ‘we’re fine, everything’s fine’ smile and casually said,  “I don’t do labels. I’m with whoever I feel something with when I look into their eyes. You know, it’s all about the chemistry.” 

He vehemently shook his head. “That’s Harlequin romance bullshit. I want a woman who I’m sure wants my cock.” 

The current had suddenly changed course, and I braced myself. 

“If what I did to you less than an hour ago didn’t tell you that, I don’t know what will.” 

He frowned. Big ugly frown. Handsome Jack was suddenly not so handsome. 

“How do I know tomorrow you won’t decide you want to stick your tongue in a woman’s cunt.” 

“Don’t be crass. I don’t decide anything, Jack. It’s whoever I’m drawn to. Connecting with.” I rolled away from him and flung the covers off. “Although I will decide not to date an asshole.” 

“So now I’m an asshole?” 

“I think you'd better leave.”

He did.

After the door slammed, I sought refuge in my safe space—the shower. It was a really nice shower, too, with a calming sea-green tile surround and a bamboo bench. I sank onto the soft wood and rested my head back against the cool tile. 

I couldn’t wait to wash him off me. 

Usually, I aimed the nozzle to spray at the top of my chest. The water would take its downward cleansing journey before dripping between the slats in the stool. I’d always loved the way of water. 

But after the quarrel with Jack, I tilted the nozzle down and adjusted the jets to four hard lines. I needed more of an impact to feel connected to something. 

The streams hit hard right above my clit like a slap. I bucked at the intensity. Drops spattered on my thighs. The thickest veins of water ran between my legs. 

I whimpered, “No one understands,” and closed my eyes, holding my tears tightly within my lids. “Why can’t someone just meet me where I am?" 

The droplets on my thighs didn’t just trickle, but began caressing my legs like the soft pads of fingers swirling on my skin. The sensations traveled down my calves to my feet. I slit my eyes. I’d always found refuge in the bath or shower, but not like this. My needs had changed, though, and the water responded. 

The heaviest stream on my clit began circling. It licked at me like a tongue. I squirmed on the bench. Opened myself up to the sensations, accepted what was offered. I cupped my breasts, letting them rest heavy in my wet palms. I’d always loved the shape of them. Mmm, I felt good. 

Maybe I was dreaming. If I were, I didn’t want it to end. My imagination could be toying with me. I had been working on a pretty erotic story over the last few days. 

Water has always brought me peace, though. So what if that night, it wanted to bring me pleasure. 

The water responded to my moans. Was spoiling me from the waist down. The right mix of hard and light pressure had my lower tummy coiling inside. Winding tighter and tighter until I arched my back and kicked my legs straight, releasing all the tension in one powerful burst before little ripples took over. 

My muscles relaxed. My heart’s fractures healed. The remainder of Jack expelled. 

After my body stopped quivering, I turned off the faucet, and puddles remained at my feet, waiting for a few moments, as if making sure I was alright, before slipping away down the drain. 

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I dried off and slipped into bed, my body still warm from the shower. The sheets were cool and comforting. My heart didn’t hurt anymore. Its beat slowed in contentment. 

I didn’t need Jack. 

~~~

About Kate…

“I was surprised you called,” I said. 

I was lost in her eyes, cat-lined, like always. She wore the same Marc Jacobs perfume. I thought she purposely chose one that lingered in the air long after she’d left. Damn, she was sexy. 

“What can I say. Seeing you at the restaurant stirred something.” Her two fingers, with short, trimmed nails, continued making the come-hither motion on my inner thigh. “We were good once.” 

I think I purred a little, remembering the way she used to finger me. “Do you want to try again?” 

“I came to the beach to see you, didn’t I?” 

“You can’t still hate it here.” 

She dragged her fingers higher up my thigh, slipping just inside the hem of my shorts. “Well, you make it more tolerable.”

“How can you hate this?” I took a deep, contented breath and let my head rest against her shoulder. So nice to be sitting so close to her again. I closed my eyes, my voice softening. “Smell the ocean. Listen to the waves crashing.” 

She didn’t respond, so I cracked one eye at her. “Well?”

“It’s the sand. It gets everywhere.” 

I kicked some sand on her legs with the top of my foot. 

“Hey!” 

Her caress on my upper thigh turned to a pinch. “Emmy, look at the water. Sometimes it’s rising, other times it’s falling. I don’t like its indecisiveness.” 

“Subtlety has never been your thing. Just say you’re talking about me.” 

She shrugged. “I can’t help it if you see yourself in what I said.” 

“Why did you call me, Kate?” 

“I hoped maybe you had fucked your curiosity about men out of your system.” 

I sighed too long and too loud. “We’ve been over this. I experience shifts in my sexuality.”

“Well, I don’t feel secure with that answer and never will.” 

Something to know about Kate is that she’s from the south, where they like to soften something sour with something sweet. Like they’ll say, “Bless your heart, you’re a dumbass.” 

So true to her roots, she softly kissed my cheek, then stood up and brushed the sand from her shorts onto me. “You’re not my person.” 

I looked up at her, knowing she wasn’t done. 

“I’m not sure you can be anyone’s person, hun.” 

There was the gut punch. Then, she walked away from the sand… and me. 

I’m not sure how long I sat there, letting her words torment me. The sun had set. Fragmented pink light was painted just above the horizon. 

Was Kate right? “Do I not belong with anyone?” I murmured.

The tide didn’t hesitate to rush in, reminding me where I’d always belonged. I looked out across the ocean and saw something. The surface moved differently. Swirled as if trying to take shape. 

No one was around, so I shed my clothes. I’d so easily strip naked in front of water. 

I rose and walked toward it, believing that whatever was out there was for me. 

The water swooshed against the back of my legs, hurrying me along. I wasn’t scared, though. It was a gentle pull out to sea. Controlled, with a hint of eagerness. 

Soon, I was shoulder deep, and the water pressed upon me from the front and back. A weight heavy like a body, and oh so comforting and warm. 

I dipped my ears under the sea and heard them singing. It was the most beautiful sound, perfectly matched by the sensual caresses that roamed up and down my back and neck. 

They relaxed me. My lids wanted to close, but I kept watching, and the water took on a human form, made of the colors of the ocean. 

There was something deeply intimate about the way their eyes looked into mine. They recognized something in me. They communicated through touch. Water lapped at my calves. Then my thighs. Then… oh my goodness! 

Like me, they had a physical need. I felt their desire. I knew I didn’t have to hide who I was with them. 

They carried me out further to where my feet no longer touched the sandy bottom. Lost in the swirl of their caress and embrace, I became theirs.

My hands explored them while they held me above the water. The water changed shape against my palms. And inside me. Ripples turned hard and thrust deep. Every crevice was filled. We swirled together in ecstasy. All I know is they absorbed every last drop from me. Afterward, they cradled me as I wept tears of joy. Only when I was ready, did they release me and dissolve into the next wave.

I floated on my back as long as I could, watching the stars and believing they twinkled just for me. When I swam back to shore, the surface reflected like glass in the moonlight. 

Beads of water on my skin were all that was left of them. I didn’t dare dry myself with a towel, but lay on the beach until the last drop disappeared. 

~~~~

Back to the present… 

That’s enough stories for now. They’ve grown impatient, whitecaps crashing and splashing water up to my neck. They tug at my bottom with their retreating waves, trying to pull me out with them. 

I won't make them wait any longer. 

Some parting advice: If you want me to flow toward you someday, don’t try to stuff me in a box. I don’t want to become stagnant. Allow me to shift and evolve, and I’ll bring you along for the ride. 

Until then, I stand and walk toward them, out there rising and falling with the waves, and I think, Like water, I’m fluid. 

Sensually, sexually—ahhh I’m wet now—deliciously fluid.