Hide and Seek

She pulled me close. She took my hand again and moved it slowly under

her skirt. I felt the coolness of her thigh turn slowly to a sleek

humid warmth as she moved it upward. Then there was only the soft thin

tuft of pubic hair under my hand and the naked depth of her.

"Here." Her lips stung my cheek. "Right here and now or not at

all."

Then suddenly she was all teeth and shifting flesh that turned and

stroked and grappled with me.

And suddenly the rain began in earnest.

A flash of light and rain and wind that rattled the storefront behind

me, followed by a distant thunder.

And there on the rain-drenched glistening streets of my hometown I saw

the strange wild pleasure in her face as she looked behind me and saw a

girl I'd known since childhood watch me plunge into her like a

prisoner, like a starving man, between naked thighs clamped hard around

my hips and waist, and heard her laugh with a terrible, awesome kind of

greed as I threw up her yellow T-shirt and felt the breasts soften and

flush beneath my hands. And then the moisture inside her flowed and

flowed until I poured myself into her and stood still, trembling,

finished.

They say that on a fighter the legs go first.

I dropped slowly to the black street, water running over my knees. Not

caring.

I looked up and saw her smile and slide down off the car, breathing

through her open mouth. She gave me her hand.

The wind whistled through the tree in front of Harmon's, broken long

ago by lightning.

"We can go now," she said.