dryad

Giving in is just so easy. I didn't know if he was putting his hands all over me, or if I was putting his hands all over me, but I didn't want it to stop. Ever.

His hand gently pressing my shoulder to the ground might well have been his little finger. I felt the blanket all twisted beneath us, wool soft and scratchy in the row of exposed skin between my tee shirt and jeans. Grains of sand rubbed my cheek raw as we lay side by side, our hair intertwined somewhere on the beach. Without removing his warm tongue from my mouth, his silken fingers widened the gap between articles of clothing. His fingers at its base sent that electric wire buzzing again. What was the voltage in those hands? The kilowatts behind those eyes? I pressed myself against him, my movement limited to that of a tree swaying in the breeze...a...



Dryad, yes, that's what I was. I could see myself from outside...in a dark forest, each tree contorted and knarled with age and stagnancy. A river used to flow through here. Now the bed where it used to lay was dry. The trees were dying. But the Dryads were in agony. Their platformed feet immoble; gauzy, crinkled dresses shredded; hair falling in tangles, lace stockings torn. Through the dresses I could see beautiful lace bras, black, cream, red, and innocent pastels of the rainbow. They wore these for him. They waited for him. Their eyes were all the same: pale blue and empty, sparkle-less mirrorballs hanging above the remaints of eye makeup cried away. The tree roots exposed in the open river bed. The skies the same blue as their eyes, without a care in the world. Their suffering known and unacknowledged. They waited for him. They waited for him.

His hand rode the curve of my hip and up, up, and away, not a hot air baloon but a rocket soaring into forever when he touched me. The back clasp of my bra came loose momentarily, He's had practice, I thought. When he brought his hands around and stroked my breasts, small amounts of sand causing friction against me, the world flickered. I looked directly at his face, that face, that boy, the only thing that could not be shaken by this. The star-freckled sky was dust, the ocean piss, and every other boy I'd ever seen like pennies from Canada. Zac smiled cooly.

He traced his hands down my body and then followed them. I felt like a void, a vampire, a desert. My only thought was that I wanted to feel his tongue again. The button of my jeans came undone. My bra was uncomfortable as I twisted onto my back, passive. I observed calmly as he removed them. I couldn't remember whether I had shaved or not. It now seemed more important than life itself. Would he take the electric current away if I had stubble? Would I end up like all those other Dryads?

His warm, hot hands ran up my perfectly smooth legs. I breathed again. And again as he touched the thin fabric of my panties. He smiled down on me, boyishly, and withdrew, falling into position next to me. I looked over, shocked, eyes wide and lips parted. "You'll have to take them off me," he said, referring to his shorts. He grinned as I crawled over to him, arms shaking, hell, the whole world shaking, and slid my fingers beneath his waistband, sliding the surfer shorts away into nothingness. Boxers. Navy blue. I moved up and met his eyes. He blinked, and gave me a soft look, then suddenly grabbed my waist and pulled me against him. Our lips brushed together, than his tongue was in my mouth again, like steel, warm and slick. One hand went against the back of my head, fingers curling around the hair, and the other manuvered his body on top of mine. I felt his heated erection through the cotton fibers of out underwear and wished to god I could break through that barrier. But I didn't need to.



A perfect hand slid beneath it, onto me, into me with effortless grace. Zac hung the moon as he created friction so powerful my wire exploded. I rocked up into him and back again Candy, this was candy. Cotton candy melting. I moaned and looked at his spinning face, into his deep brown mossy eyes. I saw supernovas exploding in those eyes, with all the intricacy of the spider who spun those golded cobwebs hanging, dancing around his face. But then I saw myself.

I stood, tall in my heels, in a beautiful gown, hair down and meticulously curled. I was made up and purfumed, shyly clutching my bag with two dainty gloved hands. I was and innocent Aphrodite, virginal Venus. Fragile lace and smooth as the lipstick on my lips. Venus me was staring. I could see across the crowded party along the line of her sight. Zac, hair pulled back, black suite and thin tie in constant motion as he leaned over and kissed the curvy blonde at his side. Then he waved at us. Between social chatter and cheesy music, I heard "...kid sister's friend, yes, she's pretty, isn't she?" His head turnded away ,exposing a perfect profile, and his conversation spun back to mindless chatter. Venus me turned and ran, but I knew before she that there was nowhere to go.

Zac's withdrawl hurtled me back to the present. To the beach, the sand stuck to by sweaty back, his hair falling onto my cheek. Demonicly, he brought his finger up and licked it slowly, breathing deeply. His full lips were parted and slightly cracked from so much sun...his purely masculine face was square and shining with a sheen of sweat, it reflected the moonlight. His eyes were watery and warm, sweet and harsh, weathered. Frayed. I licked my lips, and felt the salt residing there dissolve on my tongue. I blinked and heard the pounding surf as if for the first time. Zac placed one hand on the sand to my right, and with the other reached for my panties. He stretched the elastic with his perfect hand and slid it downward. The ocean streamed through my head, with images of butterflies in nets, of the wind pushing through Zac's hair, of Dryads in platforms and perfect bras, of my own hanging limply about me, of daisy chains and of his hand on my cheek. "No."

Waves of emotion flickered like an old TV set inside Zac's eyes. White teeth clutched his bottom lip as he sat up. I slid my panties up, and brushed the sand off my body. He got up and sat on whatever part of the towel was still visible. I pulled my jeans on and re-hooked my bra. When I brought my arms around I noticed he was gazing at me. Not glaring, but gazing as one would gaze at the stars, which you adore but cannot touch. The way I would gaze at him so many times when he was oblivious to my presence. He looked innocent and pure. The boy I loved.

I walked over and brushed stray grains of sand from his cheek, then kissed it. The ocean roared. Tide was rising. When I pulled back to look in his eyes, something startled me. The brown had faded away, and then I saw him.





My Merman, bound to the ocean, tail flicking as he swam about, golden hair streaming behind him. He wore that black jacket and skinny tie. His eyes were brown.

The vision pulled back, and the stars shone down on us as I turned away and walked towards the boardwalk. Rivers were flowing through Zac's forest, the trees were lush and green, the Dryads radiant in their gowns and dainty platforms, hair shining to perfection. Tree roots sprawled across the path, as Zac and I strolled across a bridge, holding hands and kissing. My Merman. I will never hold one drop of water back from him. I never could, for I am his Dryad. I smiled as this throught struck me like moonlight.

"Fuck! GodDAMN! I hate this boardwalk!"