by Lena Malick
Glow sticks. He set them all around the blanket, breaking them to activate the glow. Then he pulled the duvet cover over them, encasing them in a magical, glowing cocoon. The sounds of the island disappeared. He kissed her belly, sliding his hands over her breasts and along the side of her face. He moved up and kissed her breasts, licking her nipples, causing her to shiver and twist. He moved up and kissed her mouth, her cheeks and ears. As he kissed her ear, his hand slid up her thigh and cupped her. He bit her ear lobe and slid a finger inside her. His touch was expert—gentle but knowing. She found herself spreading wider, pushing her hips to his hand.
He slide down and kissed her thighs. He pushed her thighs wide apart and put his mouth on her. The feeling was electric. She instinctively grabbed the back of his head, coiling backward.
He licked and sucked her as he slid another exploring finger inside. He built her up to near orgasm, then backed off, nibbling her shaking thighs. He started over again, this time bringing her so close she was sure she was going to come, wanting to have that feeling again—only to have him stop. He let her catch her breath, then began rubbing her with his fingertips in a circular motion. She had so much built up sexual desire she felt she could orgasm at any second. He sensed it, and stopped again.
She bucked. Her body felt like it was about to explode. She needed to come so bad she reached down to touch herself. He pushed her hand away. She was close to tears. He rolled off her onto his back. Grabbing her hips, he rolled her on top of him so she was straddling his face. He pulled her down hard, his mouth and tongue pressed into her.
She climaxed so hard she thought she was going to smother him. The orgasms she’d been denied hit her one after another. She ground on him, convulsing, moaning, grabbing his hair, drenching him. Finally, the shaking of her body began to subside as she tried to catch her breath.
She turned around and saw he was large and firm, lit by the light of the glow sticks. She shifted around and fell on him, putting her mouth on him as she grasped with both hands. The head was smooth in her mouth, slippery with dribbles of his seed. She tasted the salt water on his skin. His shaft was thick, with heavy veins running the length. She slid a hand down and caressed his satiny balls. He was so big she could barely get more than the head of him in her mouth. She stroked his length as she tried to suck him deeper.
He let out sharp cries, his body tensing. He seemed to grow larger, pressing against the inside of her mouth and expanding in her hands. Sucking him as deep as she could, she jerked the bottom of his shaft with both hands. She could sense his orgasm just as it hit. He let out a long cry and great bursts filled her mouth. She could feel his orgasm pulse through her hand, as if coming from some deep source. She felt like she was holding a root that led to the center of him, to his very being. He released into her mouth as she pumped, his seed spilling out and over her hands, lubricating him further. She stroked the last of him out, taking all he had to offer.
Chapter 8
The first rays of morning light were tentatively touching the ocean’s surface in metallic streaks when they pulled away from the island. He guided the boat back around the white cliffs, toward the pier. After they tied up, they went into the house and took a long shower together, then climbed into bed just as the sun was coming up. His bedroom had a wall of open windows, bathing the room in fresh ocean breezes. They slept for a couple of hours, then made love again in the white, crisp sheets of his bed. Afterward, he made them a late breakfast of omelets, fruit, bread, and coffee. They ate on the deck with Spidey watching them, happily chattering away from his tree.
Nik was quiet as he rinsed the dishes in the sink. They were both thinking the same thing. “If we take the boat back, it will be faster,” he said, his back to her. “We save time.”
“Save time? How much time?” she asked, standing at the kitchen counter.
“Oh, maybe ten minutes.”
“So, we have ten minutes?” she asked. “Before we have to go?”
“About. What do you say? ‘Give or take’… yes, give or take,” he said, drying his hands on a towel.
“Ten minutes,” she said again, looking at him.
“Um-hum.” He tossed the towel aside.
Still looking at him, she unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, along with the bikini bottoms she was wearing underneath. She slid them down to her thighs and turned around. “Ten minutes,” she said.
He moved to her in a flash. It was like flipping a switch. Terra had never known what it was like to have someone look at her with such lust and desire. His face filled with need as he moved around the counter so he was behind her.
She bent over, pushing out, presenting herself to him. She’d never done anything like that. In the broad daylight, exposing everything to him. Never had she acted so boldly. The excitement she felt from being so daring made her want him all the more.
He pulled his shorts down. She lifted herself higher, on her tiptoes, and dropped her head on the counter top. She needed no warm-up, she was ready for him now. She felt that just being around him put her in a constant state of excitement. She felt him push against her, then slide in. A familiar feeling now.
Instead of the gentile, considerate lovemaking they’d done in his bed, now he fucked her. With both hands on her ass, he moved in long, deep strokes, pinning her against the counter. The sounds he made excited her even more. He was grunting, like an animal, as if she’d awoken in him some prehistoric instinct. He didn’t vary the pace, only increased the speed, as if racing forward. He groaned loudly with each hard thrust into her.
Terra held the edges of the counter, giving herself over to him completely, taking pleasure in his frantic lust for her. He seemed completely lost in his desire, making guttural noises as he pushed into her in pounding strokes. He grabbed one of her shoulders as he ground against her. She had her cheek to the counter top, moaning, getting rocked forward and back with each thrust. He let out a loud, grinding wail. The animals and birds outside responded with a cry of their own. She heard her own voice in the chorus and realized she was yelling as well.
The orgasm hit her so hard it shocked her. She wasn’t expecting it. It was like getting hit by a truck. Her body shuddered and jerked as she came. At the same time, he held himself inside her, coming in bursts and spasms. He pulled back, then thrust in again, held, and continued to release in her. Their orgasms blended together, into one extended pleasure they both fed on at the same time, gorging on the combined energy like a feast.
Eventually, he collapsed on her back, sweaty and panting. The calls from outside died down. She didn’t want him to move. The weight of him on her seemed to keep the delicious feeling of their orgasm trapped inside her a few moments longer, moving through her like waves of vibrating, fluttering energy. Her body trembled as he spread his arms out over her arms, kissing the back of her neck.
Chapter 9
It had been more than ten minutes. Terra called Vicky from the boat. “You’ll have to hurry,” Vicky said. “The airport cab will be here in about twenty minutes. I packed your stuff. Where are you now?”
“On the boat.”
“On the what? The boat? What the hell, girl?”
“It’s alright. We’re right off shore. I can see our cabana from here.”
Vicky went out to the deck. Sure enough, she could see a sailboat just outside the breakers. “Alright, just be careful. I’m not much of a swimmer, so don’t drown on me.”
Terra put her phone in a sealed plastic bag and stuffed it in her backpack. Nik had just thrown the anchor over. He took her backpack and put it on. They grabbed hands and dove in. For Terra, wearing a bikini in the water now felt awkward, like it was somehow unnatural. “Pace yourself,” Nik said when they surfaced. “Go slow and easy.” They swam for shore.
The swim wasn’t the hard part. It was knowing what would come after.
When they made it to the cabana, Vicky was just coming in from outside. Terra could see the cab through the open front door. “
Hello, Vicky,” Nik said. “Olla,” she said, tossing Terra a towel. “You have about two minutes. I left these out for you.” She indicated a pair of pants and t-shirt on the couch.
“Thanks,” Terra said, toweling off and grabbing the pants.
“I’ll be in the cab. Nice to see you again, Nik.”
“You as well,” Nik said as Vicky went out the door.
Terra pulled on the t-shirt and stepped into sandals. She took Nik’s hand and led him out to the deck.
Terra put her arms around him. “You’ll get wet,” he said as he embraced her. “It’s okay,” she said. Despite herself, she could feel her eyes welling up. Her hot tears were soon lost on his wet shoulder.
He pulled back. His beautiful green eyes were swollen.
They looked into each other’s eyes, now a comfortable place for both of them. He broke from her and looked out at the ocean, taking a deep breath. He turned back to her. “Are you a thief?” he asked her, as he pulled the medallion necklace over his head.
“No.”
“You lie,” he said, putting the necklace over her head and settling the medallion over her chest.
“No. No, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“You do lie,” he said, a hiccup in his voice. He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat. “Thief,” he admonished her with a whisper.
She broke down, embracing him. “You have to go now,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Keep me in your heart.”
“I will,” she said between sobs, finally letting him go. He turned toward the shore, and stepped off the deck. He walked stiffly toward the water, the only time she’d seem him move without grace. She watched, her hand on the medallion, as he walked into the water. The cab honked its horn as she watched him dive under the waves, returning to the watery Eden that he came from.
Return to Cancún
Chapter 1
Terra stretched, trying to look over the throng of people, wishing she were taller. Cancún airport was a swarm of humanity speaking different languages, everyone going in different directions.
She had hoped he would be there waiting for her when she got through immigration.
She got jostled by a boisterous group of boys wearing soccer jerseys and bouncing a ball between them as she wrestled with her shoulder bag, trying to find her phone. She wasn’t even sure which direction he would be coming from. She stood on a seat and tried to look over the mass of people as they moved about like choppy water.
Where was he?
She had flown from Detroit to Los Angeles, then to Cancún. The flights had gone smoothly enough, but Terra was a wreck. Doubt had nibbled at her until it had fully taken root and spread. Was her time with Nik last summer a fluke? The whole way over she obsessed about it. They’d only spent one day together—not even twenty-four hours—and that was a whole year ago. What was she doing coming back here? Terra’s friend Vicky thought she was crazy. But there was a lot Vicky didn’t know.
Last summer, when Vicky and Terra returned from their summer vacation, Terra was feeling sick. She thought at first it was something she ate, or maybe the sudden change in climate, going from Mexico back to Michigan. A few days later, she called Vicky, telling her she couldn’t eat. Vicky listened, then was silent—rare for her. “Well?” Terra asked. “Oh, honey,” Vicky said softly, “you’re in love.”
It seemed impossible, but Terra had nothing to compare it to. She’d never been in love, but she never imagined it like this. It was supposed to be a wonderful feeling, something blissful and romantic—not a non-stop stomachache. Not a feeling like she was constantly falling through the air.
Weeks passed. She forced herself to focus on her schoolwork. Her sophomore year of college was much harder than her freshman year, plus she had taken on extra classes, hoping to graduate early. Her advanced biology class alone felt like a full time job. Every night, no matter how late she finished studying, she would take out the medallion Nik had given her. As she traced her fingers over the face of it, she’d allow herself to drift back to the time they spent together. She could feel his body under her fingertips and see his beautiful green eyes. His smell. The deep sound of his voice. She’d take slices of the time they spent together and relive every second of them, trying to save the best parts for last, playing it like a movie. A movie she’d lived, felt, and breathed—but for such a brief period of time. She always fell asleep before getting to the end, waking up with an imprint of the medallion on her chest from pressing it against her heart.
After a month, she realized she was getting worse, not better. If this was love, she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with it. There was a constant aching in her chest. She had to force herself to eat. She found herself crying at odd hours. The worst was at night, when her need for him was so great it would sometimes cause her to shake. She desperately wanted to feel his body, to feel the weight of him on her. To feel him penetrate her. She’d wrap herself around her pillow, imagining it was him, and sob into it. Sometimes she’d move her hand down and rub herself to a quick orgasm, crying right through it.
She couldn’t share her feelings with anyone. Vicky might have understood, but Terra was embarrassed and pretended to be fine. In a desperate attempt to find relief, she mailed the medallion back to the dive school in Cancún where she first met Nik, with his name on the envelope.
Three weeks later, it came back. With a letter.
Terra raced back to her dorm room and poured over the letter. There was no explanation for why he’d sent the medallion back to her. There was no talk of the time they spent together. It was mostly about his plans for the diving sanctuary he was building, written in his careful hand. She could hear his voice in her head, making the same grammatical errors he did in his speech. He wrote about how he’d found a partner to help him... that his sister might be visiting from Greece again... But nothing about them. Nothing about the extraordinary experience they had. Nothing about the intimacy they shared, or the incredible sex they had. Nothing about… love. Terra began to cry as she got to the end of the letter. He just signed it Nik. Not love Nik, or thinking of you, Nik. No anything. And why did he send the medallion back? The one his mother gave him, that he said was so important to him. Why?
She didn’t write back. She started to a couple times, but couldn’t express what she felt. Or didn’t want to. What was she going to write? I’m so madly in love with you that I’m walking into walls and living on saltines and soda water. At night, I yearn for your touch so much I can only fall asleep when I’ve cried myself to exhaustion. Oh, and by the way, how’s the dive thing coming?
It seemed pointless. She really felt, brief as their encounter was, that it was special. She had convinced herself that what they’d experienced together really was unique and powerful. At least it was to her. But who was she kidding? Maybe it was her age. She was only twenty. He was— what? She didn’t even know. Twenty-five? He’d likely known lots of girls, she thought sadly. With his looks, and his obvious sexual skills, he probably had been with all sorts of beautiful women. Probably is right now, she thought bitterly, imagining him making love to someone else. To him, she was probably just another distraction on the way to building his dreams. Dreams that didn’t include her.
She gave up trying to write back, and gave up hope that they shared any of the same feelings, resolving to suffer her fate quietly.
Another letter arrived. Terra figured that if she wanted to get over him, the best thing to do was to throw it away. But she couldn’t. Instead, she let it sit on her dresser for a day before opening it. When she read it, she found more talk of his plans. How he missed Greece, and his fear that by opening and running the dive sanctuary, he’d never get to go back. But that a sacrifice I make for my dreams, yes? But you would love it there. When it rain in Athens, it’s like...
Wait—what?
She went back and re-read that part. You’d love it there. What did that mean? With him? Together? She nearly slapped her
self. Stop it, Terra. His English is bad. He could have meant anything.
She wrote back. She talked about school. About Vicky. About Michigan in the winter. About her plans for medical school. About anything except her feelings for him. It was a cheerful letter, but inside, Terra felt torn up, like her heart was being slowly pulled apart. It wasn’t at all what she wanted to tell him. She thought of including a picture. Maybe that would awaken something in him. He’d never really seen her at her best. Stop it, there’s nothing to awaken in him. He doesn’t see you like that anymore. She signed the letter Terra. Not love, Terra. No thinking of you, Terra. No nothing.
He wrote back again. More about his plans. Others were joining him. He now had seven people committed to helping him build and run the dive sanctuary. And now it was going to be a research center as well. And he’d received a government grant to help pay for it all. He included drawings and renderings of what they were building. He also talked about his mother in Athens, saying you’d really like her. Terra didn’t let herself dwell on that part, knowing right away it was something she could easily obsess over.
And that’s how it went. Every few weeks, another letter would arrive, and every few weeks, Terra would write back. He said it was good practice for his English, as it forced him to look up words. She noticed his writing did get better, with fewer grammatical errors. He included more drawings and sketches, often quite elaborate, like works of art. Sometimes there was sand in the creases of the paper. She imagined him writing on the deck of his beach house, looking out over the ocean. But still no mention of the intimacy they shared, or the bond she felt they had established.
Terra found herself opening up more in her own letters, talking about things she couldn’t even tell Vicky. Not about her feelings for him, but about how she felt about life, and the things that were important to her. She felt free to express herself, uncensored. She wrote about her mother, and how her dying had affected her. Putting all these thoughts on paper, sealing them up and putting them in the mail, was therapeutic for her. She began eating normally. She started running again and going to yoga class with Vicky.
