I parted my legs and pointed. “Now?”
She playfully, laughingly slapped my arm and sprung into action, rushing into the water.
I took that as a “yes” and no longer wondered whether she was checking the status of her fertility.
Of course I wasn’t going to sit there like a mannequin, waiting patiently for her to come back. I would give chase and make sure she understood just how much I desired her.
There was only one problem.
I could easily outrun her on land, but the sea was her domain. She hit the water running and dived headlong into a wave, slipping away like a dolphin on an underwater cruise.
Any attempt at catching her in the water would be utterly futile for me. She would make a fool of me, and as far as I was concerned, she would have too many laughs about it.
No, I had to be strategic. I had to lure her back, if not to land, then closer to shore.
The impulse to perform a series of stunts suddenly possessed me.
I did cartwheels near the shoreline and somersaults further into the water, landing on my back with a splash. She laughed delightedly and clapped in a show of appreciation, but when she made no move to come back to shore, a devious thought occurred to me: I need to give her an excuse to be naughty.
I did a handstand in the water, up to my elbows, with my backside turned towards her, holding steady between the incoming waves, and chuckled as she moved towards me in a most tentative way.
I stuck my tongue out at her, affectionately. She returned the compliment.
By way of encouragement and reinforcement, I let her push me over the first time. She squealed like a naughty little girl and darted away like a savvy little fish startled by a baited hook.
She was much closer to me now, but I restrained myself from making any move on her.
I performed another steady handstand closer to the shoreline, watching her closely, mindfully waiting for her to stand up in the water and walk towards me, which she did with extreme caution.
She made a calculated move to topple me, but with a quick rotation of my body, I sprung back to my feet and faced her with the poise of a coiled spring. She froze and then screamed in protest.
She spun around, but it was too late for her. I gathered her into my arms and she yielded pliably and seductively, leaning into me, voicing melodious words of longing in her own language.
I held her close. “Sweetheart, I have no clue what you’re saying, but I sure like the way you sound.”
I scooped her into my arms – astonishingly easy considering how light she was – and carried her out of the water and laid her gently on the warm shifting sand just beyond the incoming tide.
What was this post about?
Note to Readers
I can hardly believe it. A period of 26 weeks (half a year) has passed since I began this series.
I could post yet another 26 instalments in the weeks and months to come, but my intuitive guidance is calling me to begin a new series that examines, among other topics, the essence of soul.
Lately, I’ve taken a keen interest in the near-death phenomenon (‘near-death’ is something of a misnomer for those who are already convinced that this phenomenon is “more real than real”).
Ever since 1975, with the publication of Raymond Moody’s runaway bestseller, Life After Life, both popular and scientific interest in the ‘near-death’ experience has surged.
In the weeks ahead, I’ll be drawing on the content of my free ebook, Today, I Give Myself a Gift, to explore and examine the implications of this phenomenon as it applies to the subject of personal fulfillment.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to write, sculpt, and polish a draft of The Paradise Series, which I trust will make an appearance in book form sometime later this year.