Garrison

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He sat on the side of the bed, silent. Naked.

Behind him, snuggled under once-crisp, white, cotton sheets, she was still asleep, oblivious to the sunlight streaming through the window, casting slatted shadows across the soft carpet.

He sat there, looking at his toes scrunching the heavily treated fibers, wishing that it were sand beneath his feet instead. How long had it been? Six years? Seven? No, more like twelve. He wondered briefly where that girl was now. Had she married? Did she have children? Was one of them his? The sand had made a wonderful bed then, so cool and inviting to their warm bodies.

That’s what he needed: more sand in his life; not the playbox or construction grades found at the big box store, but beach sand, treated by wave after wave of a salt-filled tide, the result of millions of years of natural recycling.

She rolled over, her dark hair framing her tan face as her blue eyes blinked open. She reached up and let her long, slender fingers trace a pattern along his spine. “You’re up early,” she said.

“Not worth sleeping,” he said.

“For a whole week?”

“If you say so.”

“It’s time, isn’t it?”

“Probably. I don’t want it to be, but ... yeah, it is.”

“Then do it. You’ll only make life miserable for everyone if you don’t.”

“But I’ll be miserable if I do.”

“Only for a while. You know how it is. There’s always another one right around the corner.”

“I don’t want another one.”

“But, maybe I do.”

“Is that it? Are you what I’m feeling?”

“It doesn’t have to mean what you think it does.”

“What else can it mean?”

“Just add, nothing taken away.”

“I don’t know ...” His voice trailed away as he looked out the window, the wind turning over the young leaves of the elm tree, revealing their lighter underside.

“You sure are getting a lot of exercise this morning,” she said as she sat up behind him, her bare breasts pressing into his back as she wrapped her arms around his chest, her firm nipples imprinting their shape on his back.

“Marathon training,” he quietly answered.

“You don’t have to,” she said. “It’s NOT the leap you think.”

“What other leap could there be?”

“Remember a beach, the setting sun glowing with a perfect orange-peach?”

“I was just thinking of that very beach.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s spirit has never left you.”

“The sand ...”

“The love ...”

“The loss.”

“Found.”

He turned and looked at her; those eyes dancing with the energy of the smile she was trying to suppress.

Her smile broadened. “She’ll be here this afternoon when you get home from work.”

“But ...”

“She’s been here all the time.”

“Where?”

“Three blocks over.”

“How ... ?”

“That candle party last month.”

“You were late getting home.”

“I almost didn’t come home at all.”

“She was delicious.”

“She still is.”

He kissed her, deeply, feeling a passion for her that he had never felt for anyone else. As they kissed, she slipped over onto his lap. From nowhere she produced a condom and within seconds she was lowering herself onto his instantly hard cock.

Gasping, he wondered if he could really handle them both.

There was only one way to find out.