Adam Ash

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Thursday, April 27, 2006



Even though Adam only touched Eve intermittently, it felt to him as though their skins were glued to each other. Together, their bodies danced up Sugar Mountain. Every step of this dance pushed them closer together. The higher they ascended, the more delicious grew their anticipation of all the things they were going to learn once the climb up the mountain was over and the journey at the top – into each other – began.

Eve felt a cheerful recklessness rattle loose in her psyche. A hard core she had always held tight inside her unraveled. She let it spin itself out, and waited for the expected feeling of shame. It didn’t come. She grinned. The smile on her face reached all the way down her neck to her throat. She felt Adam touch her left buttock. She wanted to turn around and jump on him. She wanted to rub herself up and down him till his eyes flipped over. On a whim, she stopped climbing. They had maybe another two hundred yards to go before they reached the top.

“I’m hot,” she announced.

No kidding, he thought. You’re hotter than I can stand. If this continues I’m going to explode in a second.

Eve took off her backpack. She reached behind her and removed her bra. She looked back at Adam. His eyes shot out at her, pierced her like lasers freezing an alien in a movie, like Christ’s eyes stopping a sinner. Except she didn’t freeze: she felt a shiver of anticipation, which lit a fire under her sense of mischief. Here’s a little encouragement for you, fella, she muttered to herself, and hung her discarded garment over a shrub.

Adam climbed to the bra and, animal-like, nuzzled it with his nose, sniffing a mixture of perfume and perspiration which made his head spin. This was all very Non-Sanctioned Behavior, but he didn’t care. Neither did Eve. She was alone with Adam on a mountain, beyond the eyes of the Bureau of Behavior Design and Management, and climbing further and further out of the strictures of Approved Thought and Approved Life.

When next Adam touched Eve, his hands were more insistent. They stayed longer. They caressed harder. They began to grip. A littler higher up, she took her backpack off again.

Ohmigod, he thought, what next?

In for a penny, Eve muttered to herself. At this point the stronger grip of his hands began to reach right through her skin to a place where huge feelings threatened to erupt. She took off her t-shirt and draped it over a rock. A small rebellion going on here. Shee slung the backpack over her naked shoulders and climbed on.

For the first time during the ascent, Adam felt a weakness in his knees. Woman, what are you doing to me? I’m just a man, you know. I’m only made of flesh and blood.

On the one hand Eve was surprised at her boldness, and on the other, not at all. Those hands of his had worked her into a frenzy. Always on the back, never on the front, the part she wanted to rub against him for the next hundred years. She was surprised she didn’t slam him against the mountain and ravish him pronto. She wanted him like an adolescent sheep bleating for a billy-goat. She wanted to be straddled by him till the moon shrieked. Her center howled for him. Was she crazy? Of course she was. The unknown, secret Eve. The wild spirit buried for far too long.

It’s strictly a sexual thing, she reminded herself, but what was strict about it? It was overwhelming. She was open, wet, flushed, one huge pulsing moist aching vagina.

The further she climbed away from the surface, the further she entered a realm of her own imagination. The normal Christian rules of conduct didn’t apply anymore. Convention and formality fell away like pebbles kicked off the side of the mountain. She and Adam were hiking themselves right out of the real world. They were climbing into a dream. In this dream of sexual experiment and wild science, anything could happen. She was like one of her patients, ready and willing to be restructured at the deepest level of her sexuality. In this dream, leaving your clothes behind you like a sensual trail for your lover to follow was neither a breach of manners nor a transgression of taste nor a non-Biblitarian, Non-Sanctioned act. It was doing what came naturally. It was all part of the experiment, of the protocols of the science. It felt fine. It felt pretty darn good.


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