Thunderstorm Lovers on the Beach

I'm wet with the thunderstorm's heavy rain, watching women, naked, smart, beautiful in their eyes, their vision, their crazy laughing & crying, lust and affection. There are many of you and only one of me (OK, OK, there are "several" of you). A fire is burning on the beach. The fact that it's raining doesn't put the fire out. That the wind is storm volume doesn't blow your smells, sweet oily smells running down your thighs, out to sea, but the smell stays for all of us. The sand on your skins? It keeps washing away with the tide sending shooting shallow baths over you. -- more-- sounds: giggling and lost control shouts, moans, throat songs. Sometimes the sounds of one or two, or three of you climbing the peaks, letting loose, working to come, this sound sometimes rises out of the noise and takes over. You each pay attention the, with your silence or with your own words & deeds, hands and mouths helping. A kiss on the forehead, a touching of hair, a word spoken by a helper, an observer, as one of you loses it into another's body, into your own. Muscles reflected in the fire, licked by the storm wind and sea. Muscles loving lover's muscles, skin, washing over, charging lover's skin, opening nerve endings and hearts. Two women, bodies wet, breasts reflecing fire, windstorm hair, going at each other one way after another until there is no number to the ways. Mouths locked on each other's sex, first one to the other's, her legs & arms spread, then to each other together, sex to face, face to sex, wet noise, smacking noise, finger noises, word noises, faces fingers shining in wet firelight. You two come with such high climbing and total falling, you each make the other come as a no-questions gift. You smile unspeakably, hungrily as yoiu show the other which way, this time, to give up to the storm, ride the wave, crash, roll back to sea. Watching you two draws me, pulls on me from the inside. a part of me imagines being one of you, imagines not only my fingers and my mouth giving that crazy love, but imagines taking that love, too, taking it up & over, like you do, coming, like you do. That's why I'm on this beach, middle of the night in a thunderstorm by a fire that won't go out, with ("several") women who are lovers, who teach me about their bodies & souls, who can understand that I'm some sort of student, that there's nothing I wouldn't learn, that this story is about getting lost with you, that the better, the stronger, the funnier, the juicier the woman, and the crazier her moondance, then the fuller, the better, the higher love this boy brings back, (if not to you.. then...) to w to whom? (She doesn't know.) This is dedicated....~Kimmie,~ ~Monique,~ Lynn, CeCe. Hi pals!

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