by Retha Powers
“Do you swim?” Rene asked, stepping onto the shore.
“Yes, but I’m not interested in meeting any otters today, thank you.”
“I thought you might like to see God’s Fingertip up close.”
“What?”
“That’s what I named that formation. Doesn’t it look like a finger reaching upward? Like it’s just telling the sun to shine brighter, and the moon to hang low in the sky. Wait until you see the way the moon looks…”
“I’m not going to be here that long,” Joceri said, starting to loosely wrap her cloth around her waist and sinking down to the ground.
“Joceri. The sand is kinda hot. Can we use your skirt to sit on?”
“I just put it back on.”
“Why?”
“I really don’t like to show my legs.” As she spoke she realized that the cloth was split open right at the lightning bolt that ran from her hip down toward her knee. She started to cover it up.
He lifted her hand. “Why not? You have lovely legs. I noticed when you came up on the beach. Real pretty.” Joceri did not move. “Both legs. Real nice.” He was smiling at her and everything seemed far away. She could hear a distant echo of children’s voices. She could hear gulls singing as they swooped at the top of the cliff. She could hear the waves softly licking the edge of the shore. Joceri smiled back. “I guess it’d be okay.” She untied the cloth and spread it over a patch of sand and left a space where Rene could sit.
Rene moved next to her and rubbed his shoulders against hers. They sat that way for a long time. Finally Joceri spoke. “What do you want, Rene? Why do you keep trying to pass through this way?”
“I’m not trying to pass through, woman. I’m trying to get in.”
“I know you’re trying to get in,” said Joceri lightly, turning it to a joke, unconsciously licking the edge of her lip as she spoke.
“Yeah, that, too. What fool wouldn’t want to get close to something as fine as you? But I mean into your life, not just in between your legs. Into your mind, into your spirit. I’m trying to find the road in and you just keep putting up stop signs.”
“Under-construction signs,” Joceri said so softly he almost missed it.
“We’re all ongoing projects, Joceri. You can’t, I mean you can, but you shouldn’t just shut out everyone until you decide you’re done. We’re never done.”
“I have a lot of repair work to do.”
“Not so it shows.”
Joceri didn’t answer. She stared out at the water. She began to count the waves to see how many were coming in at the same time. Rene moved in front of her, blocked her view. He lifted one of her legs and examined the crooked lines. One ran like a vine on the outside of her ankle, another a cross-stitch across her knees, and a third from under the edge of her bathing suit to the middle of her thigh, thick, black, smooth, and inflexible.
“They’re so soft,” he said almost to himself.
“My legs are not smooth and soft.”
“Not the legs, the designs on them. The scars, they’re actually quite soft.” He ran his fingers around her ankles, drawing the tip of the index finger across the raised welt. “You know you have some pretty feet, too.” His fingers softly ran down the arch of her feet, his thumb gently covering and then revealing the scar.
“Yeah, if you don’t look above them,” snorted Joceri.
“And yeah if you do.” He ran his hands up the calves and into her thick thighs. Joceri looked at the fingers as they moved. Wide, flat, sure. She looked at the sand, almost the same color as her, large grains, some of them seeming to shine. She looked straight into the sun.
She did not look at Rene.
He kept stroking her legs. Massaging them softly. Teasing her inner thigh, which was becoming hot. “You want me to stop?”
“I don’t know what I want.” Joceri was barely able to get the words out.
“How ’bout what you need. Do you know that?”
“I know what I don’t need.”
“And what’s that?” He had moved one hand to her face and was cradling it softly. The other rested on the outside of her bare hip. Joceri looked at his eyes, which were so close to hers. She could barely breathe. She didn’t want to run, but she needed to go. Maybe they should swim, but she didn’t move.
“What, Joceri? What don’t you need?”
“I don’t need to get hurt. I don’t need any more B.S. I don’t need—”
Rene cut her off. “I assure you I have no intentions of hurting you. Not in the least. I’m not into pain myself.”
His hand slid down her face, across her shoulder, close to her breast, and then around her back. “That’s not what I meant.” Joceri turned her side to him.
Rene moved in front of her. “I’m not into hurting, in any way.” One of Joceri’s legs was stretched out in front of her. The other one was bent up to her chest, preventing him from getting any closer. He sat facing her and stretched that leg to the right side of him, smoothing the skin.
“That’s my good leg,” Joceri said, trying to keep any kind of words inside her head. Trying not to get any more caught up in the rhythm of the surf and the softness of his voice. “Only one hip broke. That one just had a simple fracture.”
“They’re both good legs,” he said and brushed the sand from between the toes. “Really nice legs. I’ve been wanting to see what you kept hidden under all those pantsuits for a long time.”
Joceri pulled her foot out of his hand and tried to move in front of Rene. He adjusted himself and squatted in back of her. She looked hard into the water. He ran his tongue around the rim of her ear, down her neck, onto her shoulder, pushing down the suit’s thin straps.
“It really is beautiful here. It’s like we’re in a secret world. You’d never know there was a beach full of people just around a couple of bends,” Joceri jabbered. “Really, just like you said, beautiful.”
Rene didn’t say anything, just laughed softly. “And it’s beautiful here.” His tongue was running down her spine. She gasped lightly. “And here.” The front of her swimsuit fell and her breasts slipped out of the bra cups.
If Joceri was going to stop this, it had to be now. They should talk. What about a condom? How many women had he been with? Safe. She wanted to be safe. She watched Rene’s hands travel across her chest. He cupped one breast on each hand. They were small, only slightly overfilling his hands. She had once thought about getting them enlarged but decided the risk was not worth it. He softly turned the nipples between his fingertips. They were hard and almost quivered beneath his touch.
He put his lips next to her ear. “You know, Joceri, I’m a one-woman man. One at a time. For as long as we can make it work. It’s been five months since I had anyone… waiting on you and just didn’t feel like messing around. Longest time in my life, woman. Celibate, I mean. So if this isn’t what you want, now’s the time to say so. Because I plan on being around for a while.”
Joceri was breathing hard. She needed to feel him. She leaned back into his chest arching back just a little. “What about...?”
“Everything you need, Joceri.” His lips were on her shoulder, he was turning her to face him, her back to the sea, his mouth filling with one breast as he gently sucked it. And then pulled away. “I swear baby, everything you need.”
She pushed him back. “Does that include condoms?”
“Hell, woman, that’s what I need. Of course. I mean I got everything else. Condoms, that’s just the mechanics.” He looked at her and saw that her bottom lip was lightly trembling. He leaned forward and gently nipped on it. Pulled it softly with the edges of his teeth and then settled his lips around hers, waiting for her to open her mouth and invite him to move forward. She sighed again and began to kiss him back. This time he pulled away. “Everything you need… and nothing you don’t.”
Her damp suit clung to her hips as he pulled it down past her knees and to the side. He left his own on, just taking the time to look at her. Smiling and lookin
g. “You one pretty mama.” He laughed and lay down next to her. “I’m going to enjoy getting to know you.” Rene’s hands moved slowly, as if he was measuring every inch of her. And then his fingers would stop at the elbow crevice, at the wrist bump, at the shoulder hollow, and each time they stopped they were replaced by his lips, which smoothed, tasted, breathed hot, then cooling air around her. There was nothing then except the surf, quiet at first, barely there at the edge of her mind, and the gulls above, calling out to each other, and his lips and fingertips discovering the round of her abdomen, grazing around the backs of her thighs, separating the hairs between her legs, licking the salt and syrup that were trickling out from between her legs.
It had been so long that she wanted to hurry, to feel him inside her now that she had decided to let this happen, but he wasn’t going to let her rush it. When he finally entered her he stayed on top for only a moment before rolling over and letting her sit high above him, holding on to her hips, which circled in wide, dark arcs, echoing the eddies of water that circled the rocks in the cove. As Joceri rocked the waves seemed to get higher and higher; she heard her own moans and could not separate them from the ocean’s foam, sizzling as it melted into the sand. He went deeper inside her and she gripped his hips and was inside the water’s currents swirling and turning until the tight rope that bound her ankles and thighs fell away and she was inside herself and swallowed in his touch and gasping for air that poured through her skin, every pore open and alive. Finally damp and sticky, laughing she collapsed on his chest just as she felt him tremble and heard him call out her name across the ocean’s expanse.
“That was nice,” Joceri sighed, nuzzling his neck.
“Just a beginning, woman. We got a lot of places to go and things to see.”
“For example?” Joceri teased.
“Wait till you see the moonrise. I tell you it’s a beautiful sight. A beautiful sight.”
“I’ll bet.” Joceri closed her eyes and listened as the otters began to bray, and the water washed against the shore.
The Princess and the Cop
_________________
by Kathleen Morris
Kim moved through the mass of elegantly dressed wimmin talking in well-educated, modulated tones. She stopped at an occasional clique to chat, then moved on, heading for the double French doors which opened on to the terrace. The cool air pushed its way through her mauve-colored chiffon cocktail dress. She stopped for a moment to enjoy the pleasant sensation on her skin and then continued over to the stone wall that separated the house from the sculptured gardens beyond, with a sigh.
She was bored. The same wimmin gathered at every event she’d been to this summer. Boat rides and barbecues, brunches and golf outings—and now this fund-raiser for some wimmin’s arts foundation. The same wimmin. She’d been through the interesting ones already, none intriguing enough to continue with beyond a week or two.
It was a dark and clear out, the constellations of stars lush and bright in the country sky. She imagined herself walking down the flagstone path that wound through the gardens on the arm of her partner, a gentlewomyn in tailored linen. She was athletic, smart, funny, and successful. And of course, she adored Kim.
“Is this a private party?”
The soft music playing in the house floated out to Kim, and she turned from the phantom lovers reluctantly to face her friend and host, Lynn. Following just behind Lynn was a womyn Kim had never seen before. Kim’s eyebrows raised in question, and Lynn smiled playfully as she began introductions.
“Kimberly Somers, I’d like you to meet Tracy Landon. Tracy is a deputy sheriff up here.” Lynn’s voice lowered slyly as she said the last.
Kim quickly assessed Tracy. She was a handsome womyn, tall—and that was saying a lot for the five-foot, ten-inch Kim. Her hair was locked. The salt-and-pepper serpents were impeccably groomed and showered over her shoulders. Tracy’s body was lean and hard beneath her clothes, and Kim trembled inside as she sensed the rippling strength in Tracy’s broad, swimmer’s shoulders. Her face was slightly square; a friendly smile revealed charmingly crooked teeth.
But she was wearing a crumpled blend jacket over black khaki trousers. And boots. Boots! Kim sighed. Too bad.
Still, she smiled politely as she allowed Tracy to shake her hand.
“Pleasure. Are you our security for the evening?”
Tracy’s jaw tightened slightly, but her voice was even as she replied, “No, ma’am. I’m off duty. Tonight I am just a supporter of the arts, like you.”
“Hmmm. How nice.” Kim looked down at her glass. “Empty. Anyone want a refill? I sure do.”
Tracy took the glass. “Why don’t I get us all fresh ones?” She nodded her head at the ladies and then disappeared into the house.
“Utilize the butch.” Lynn smiled as she watched Tracy stroll back inside and make her way to the bar. She turned to Kim. “So, what do you think? Not bad, huh? She’s a local, but nice enough. And she’s been watching you all evening. Huh? Huh?”
Kim looked back toward the house and then, lowering her voice, said, “You have got to be kidding. Look how she showed up for this event. Hello? This is a cocktail party, not hoedown at the corral. And boots?” Kim rolled her eyes. “She’s probably wearing tube socks.”
“She isn’t that bad, Kim. And I’m not talking about marriage. I’m talking about a little fun till the end of the season, for pity’s sake.”
“Right. Then why don’t you take her? You’re much more interested in soaking up the local flavor than I am anyway.”
“Don’t think I wouldn’t if I didn’t come up here every year. But, oh my God, what a disaster if she tried to attach herself to me next year. Can you imagine? And you’re just here for a few more weeks. She does seem kinda nice—and she’s got a great bod.”
“Forget it, Lynn, okay? I can’t even imagine how you’d think it. Me—with a yokel cop who says ma’am? Where could we go together? The local crab and beer joint? Because you know I couldn’t be caught de—” Kim looked up just in time to see Tracy place the drinks angrily on the stone ledge, turn, and stalk, back rigid with anger, through the party and out the door.
Lynn’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh m’God, that was horrible. She had to have heard us.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, you got her fifty-buck minimum contribution, didn’t you? So? I doubt we’ll die if we don’t get that invite to the crab and beer fest.”
Lynn gasped, and then doubled over with laughter. “You are awful!” She covered her mouth to stifle the giggles. “And she did only give fifty dollars.” A second later Kim was laughing, too.
Finally, Kim dabbed her tears and said, “All right. So the evening won’t be a total wash, let’s go back in and have another look at the B list.”
Lynn smiled as they linked arms and went back to the party.
The party had wound down hours before with no interesting developments. Kim lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She was too wired—and too hot—to sleep.
It was not quite one o’clock in the morning. She sat up, deciding that a long drive might relax her. She smiled to herself. Maybe she’d take a long drive—back to the city. She was getting sick of all this damned bucolic beauty anyway. She picked her discarded cocktail dress from the chair beside her bed and slipped it on. Running her fingers through her hair, she picked up her shoes and headed out.
Once she cleared the tree-lined drive of the property, Kim turned on the radio and opened the windows. As she suspected, she felt herself relaxing as she sped down the dark, narrow roads. A familiar song came on and Kim turned up the volume, singing along.
Lights flashed in her rearview mirror. Turning down the music, she heard the sirens as the flashing lights grew closer. She put her foot on the brake, watching the speedometer drop from eight-five to seventy… sixty-five… sixty…
“Please, please let it be an ambulance racing to some emergency up ahead,” she prayed. But as the lights drew closer, the car slowe
d. A police car.
“Pull over and turn off the engine,” the bullhorn ordered.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Kim cursed as she pulled onto the gravel, stopped the car, and cut the motor. The police cruiser pulled off a few feet behind her, the siren dying with a whine.
She heard a door slam, boots crunch on the gravel toward her. A gun belt, khaki uniform, leather glove on the driver’s door. “May I see your license and registration please?” A womyn’s voice.
Handing her papers over, Kim tried to keep her voice steady. “How fast was I going, Officer?” she asked, knowing full well the answer. The officer didn’t answer. She just continued studying the license, her flashlight shining into Kim’s face, hurting her eyes.
“Is there a problem?” Kim shielded her eyes and tried to look up into the face of the officer.
“Step out of the car please.” The voice was curt, no nonsense.
Damn female cops, Kim thought as she unbuckled her seat belt. Always have to be tough, gotta prove they have balls or something. Kim realized charm might not get her off this time. Well, one more try. As she stepped from the car, she asked in as innocent a voice as she could muster, “Is there a problem, Officer?”
“Three. You were going fifty miles over the speed limit, your right taillight is out, and you… are a snotty, rude bitch.”
Kim squinted her eyes at the face beneath the cap’s visor. “Tracy? Oh God. Is this about earlier? Look, I didn’t mean what I… I mean, I’m sorry about earlier this evening. My behavior was completely out of line. I was just blowing off steam—I’m not really like that.”
Tracy just stared at her, her mouth tightly pressed.
Kim thought quickly. Maybe she could work this out… maybe. She tried again. “Listen, let me make it up to you. I’m really very nice, once you get to know me. Why don’t you come by the house and have breakfast with me tomorrow? We’ll start over, make believe it’s our first meeting, and forget this whole evening happened. What do you say?” She smiled hopefully.
