Escape to Pleasure

by Sandy Lowe

  Skylar spoke close to my ear to be heard over the roar of the water. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  “I love it best at this time of day, the way the sunlight filters across the water. Do you see the little rainbows in the mist near the fall?”

  I took a deep breath and faced her. “Now I see why you wanted to bring me here.”

  Skylar grinned. “Who said this is where I wanted to take you?”

  I looked at her, confused. “It’s not? I can’t imagine a setting for a picnic much better than this.”

  Skylar leaned into me once again, this time with the edges of her lips tracing the coil of my ear. “Follow me.”

  The path led around the top of the gorge, a rocky sandstone ledge that had been cut away by decades of rushing water. I followed behind her for at least a quarter of a mile, neither of us speaking over the pounding of the water below us.

  Finally, Skylar stopped and pointed at the harness and ropes that had come into view. “Come fly with me, Lucy.”

  “Wait a minute. Is that a harness?”

  Skylar nodded. “Once we zip line across the gorge, we’ll get to the place for our picnic.”

  I almost choked on my nervous giggles. Me, zip line across an enormous gorge? I’d never zip lined, let alone over a gorge of water where a fall into its churning cauldron could probably kill me.

  Skylar reached for me as I protested. “I promise it will be okay,” she said, pulling me close, almost into a hug. Her thigh slipped between mine. “It’s a harness built for two, so I’ll guide us across. Don’t worry, I’ve done this a million times.”

  I stepped back. “I don’t know…I don’t like heights. We could just eat on this side of the gorge, right?”

  Skylar’s kiss stopped my protests. Her lips closed over mine, and I felt the tease of her tongue. Her hands tangled into my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss. My body reacted without my consent; I straddled her thigh and my pelvis gave away my want, bucking forward. When Skylar pulled away, she took my breath with her.

  “Trust me, please.”

  I would have followed Skylar anywhere for another kiss like that. I wanted more; I wanted her.

  Skylar helped me into the harness, securing it between my legs and letting her fingertips linger a little too long as she strapped the harness across my chest. My nipples, already hardened, poked against my T-shirt. She secured a helmet under my chin, letting her open hand caress my neck. She smiled when a nearly inaudible groan escaped my lips. Skylar stepped into and secured the cords for herself, moving the backpack to the front of her body. She led me to the very edge of the rocky cliff.

  “Hold tight to me, like a piggyback ride.” She reached up for the zip line bar.

  Fear consumed me, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest. If Skylar could feel my heart racing, it didn’t stop her. She leapt off the edge of the cliff and took me right along with her. I squeezed my eyes shut and held on to her shoulders for dear life. Once my feet left the ground, I wound my legs around her waist and screamed into the warmth of her back.

  “Open your eyes, Lucy! Look around you!”

  Slowly, I peeked over Skylar’s shoulder.

  The world opened itself up all around me. Far below, the water churned and tumbled. Before us lay the hundreds of acres of woods and cliffs. Above us, the harness swooshed along the thick metal cord.

  “Holy shit. We’re flying!”

  Skylar tossed her head back and laughed.

  ***

  Skylar’s open sleeping bag lay over the cool sandstone, creating a soft space for us to rest. Once we arrived across the gorge and hiked less than a mile in, we came to the spot Skylar called “heaven,” and I soon understood why. The sandstone edge dropped off over a valley of trees and a winding river that burbled with rapids. Behind us, the sandstone cliff opened into a cave. Clearly, Skylar spent a good deal of time at “heaven;” a few blankets were stored in the cave along with the sleeping bag. I wondered if she regularly slept on this rocky ledge surrounded by this gorgeous land she loved so much.

  We looked out across the vista at the slowly sinking evening sun. We dined on wraps and strawberries and wine in plastic cups as we watched the sun dying into night.

  “What about you, Skylar?” I twirled the contents of my third glass of wine. “Don’t you get lonely without a partner?”

  “Sometimes,” she answered honestly.

  “I bet vacationing lesbians like me fall for you every day,” I teased.

  Skylar grinned in a way that told me I was right.

  “Just how many women have you brought to ‘heaven,’ anyway?”

  She gave me a wink. “More wine?”

  I swallowed the last bit in my cup and moved closer to her for more. The acknowledgment that I wasn’t the only woman Skylar had brought to this place or that she was something of a player made me surprisingly more comfortable. I understood there would be no strings, no late night texts, no guilt. And nothing sounded better to me at that moment than a one-night stand.

  My eyes trailed along Skylar’s long legs, strong and tanned from hours of hiking and climbing. Her sleeveless shirt left little to my imagination and I licked my lips, still tasting her kiss from the other side of the gorge. When I looked up, Skylar was watching me, her blue eyes doing to my body exactly what I was doing to hers. My breath was short and hitched in my throat, goose bumps scattered across my chest and down my arms. I had never before wanted someone this badly.

  Skylar leaned back against the wall of stone behind her. Darkness settled around us. “Kiss me, Lucy.”

  I swallowed, hard, hesitating a moment. I wanted Skylar to kiss me, to take me. I wanted her to make the first move.

  Skylar whispered, “Let go of her.”

  I knew that Skylar wanted me to be sure, and she wanted me to experience her with a freedom that only came from being single.

  “Let go of her,” Skylar said again. “Kiss me.”

  I considered this amazing woman before me, my breath jagged with want. What was I really holding on to, anyway? The ghost of a woman who left nearly two years before? A memory of what was and would never be again?

  I took a deep breath and crawled over to Skylar. Straddling her, I sat in her lap, my arms wrapped around her neck. When my mouth opened to hers, a burning heat settled in my groin. As her hands made their way up my back beneath my shirt I moaned, my hips rocking, looking for so much more than the clothing between us. Skylar unhooked my bra and pulled it and my shirt over my head in one quick movement. She pulled away from me, her gaze centered on my breasts, her fingertips teasing the edges of my rock-hard nipple.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

  I nearly panted with need as she took my breast in her hand, squeezing and rolling and pinching my skin until my wetness threatened to soak through my shorts.

  Skylar gave me a wicked grin. With her arms underneath me, she flipped me onto my back. I watched as she pulled her own shirt off and slipped out of her shorts, then crawled along my body. She yanked at my shorts and underwear until they were low enough for me to kick them off. Settling her full weight against me, body to body, skin to skin, her strong hands roamed over every part of me until I nearly cried.

  I struggled to gain some semblance of control, to flip Skylar so that I could be on top, but she held firm. “Not used to a woman topping you, huh?”

  She positioned herself to straddle my thigh, her pussy against my hip and the top of her thigh against mine. I pushed against her until I felt her hand running along the inside of my thigh. I gave in to Skylar when her fingers entered me, one then two then three. She drove me, her fingers reaching deeper and deeper, pulling at every fiber of my being. She rode me to the brink and then pulled back, her fingers sliding along the sides of my slick sex.

  I groaned and grabbed Skylar’s ass, hard, then pulled her against me. Her breath hitched. She sat up, lifting one of my legs over her shoulder, and leaned in
to me, her pussy to mine—clit to clit. Every nerve in my body exploded with the feel of her frantic movement against me.

  She rocked her hips back and forth, scissoring herself deeper into me. A sound escaped me, a sound I didn’t know I could make—so deep and guttural, so feral with desire. She rode me harder as our bodies pushed, bucked, and ground together until everything crashed inside me and there was nothing but her. Skylar and me.

  Skylar collapsed on top of me, both of us sweaty, breathing jagged. We lay that way, heaped on top of one another, exhausted with mind-obliterating orgasm. It took a long time for me to come back from where Skylar had taken me; a place, I realized, I hadn’t been in far too long.

  ***

  I woke as the bright morning sun edged over the horizon. Skylar and I had fallen asleep with our bodies entwined on a makeshift bed of blankets. I found her snuggled into the crook of my shoulder, my arm across her back and her body pressed against my side. I listened to her soft breaths of deep sleep and watched the cliffs above us turn from pink to red to yellow with the early morning sun. My hand trailed over Skylar’s muscular back, my fingertips tracing every ridge and valley of her.

  Lying there, I thought I would miss my ex. I thought I would wake up regretting the night I’d spent with Skylar. I thought I would remember that I wasn’t this woman—the kind of woman who accepts a right-good fucking. Instead, I was nothing but content.

  Skylar stirred and looked up at me, her brown hair a tangled mess.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  She smiled and kissed my neck. “A very good one waking up next to you.”

  I moaned. “I cannot believe I have to go home today. I could stay out here another week.”

  Skylar didn’t answer, but her lips trailed all the way up to my ear. She bit my earlobe, her warm body rolling on top of mine.

  “You found my weakness.” My hips bucked, reaching once again for her.

  “I think I found a couple others last night.” She nibbled on the outer edges of my ear. “I’d be happy to look for more.”

  “We have a few hours,” I said, my hands rounding over the swell of her ass and giving it a playful slap.

  Skylar groaned against my neck in a way that made me wet. “More than enough time.” She slowly kissed and bit and licked her way down to my nipples, sucking them until I cried out.

  “Skylar,” I begged, my back arching.

  Her hands spread along my stomach, gripping my hips as her tongue lined my belly button, lingering too long.

  “Please,” I begged again. “Skylar…”

  Down, down, her hands spread me wide while my hips bucked for her mouth. For the love of God, her mouth.

  With a wicked grin, Skylar finally closed in, her tongue teasing my already hardened clit.

  And just like that, I let my ex go. Once and for all.

  The Night Orchestra

  Sam Ledel

  Sam Ledel is originally from Dallas but currently lives in San Diego with her girlfriend and their Jack Russell terrier.

  Cori wiped the latest layer of sweat from her forehead. She folded the blue handkerchief, now soaked due to constant use, and tucked it into the front pocket of her beige cargo pants. She had never experienced anything like this heat, and it didn’t seem to matter whether she was outside or inside. The hot, oppressive air was everywhere in this part of Peru—on the tarmac at the airport she’d flown into yesterday, in her moto-taxi speeding down a crowded street on her way to a hostel, and here, inside a ragged tour bus with what was soon going to be ten other people. Maybe there was still time. She glanced to the bus’s door where a young Peruvian couple climbed aboard. Maybe she could still catch a flight back to Lima, then change her ticket to somewhere else. Somewhere cooler. Like the Andes.

  “Can you believe this heat?” A heavyset woman—short with a button nose and lively blue eyes—sat down next to her.

  Cori eyed the empty seats in front of and behind her but didn’t say anything. The woman spoke again.

  “Now, I know heat, being from South Carolina. And I know humidity. But golly if this isn’t the hottest place in the whole dang world.” At this, the woman pulled out a small, mechanical fan from somewhere beneath her and aimed it directly on her neck. Leaning back, the woman glanced at Cori, who noticed her seatmate take in her exposed tattoo sleeve. After a moment, she remarked, “That is lovely, darlin’.”

  Cori swiped at the bangs falling over her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You from the Southwest?”

  Running her left hand along the inked lines that formed a saguaro cactus, the likening of which took up the entire width of her thin upper arm and shoulder, Cori said, “I am. Well, my dad is. Or was.” She cleared her throat. “He recently passed.”

  The woman took a drink from her water bottle as more people filed onto the bus. Cori caught the glance of a tall woman with thick, dark brown hair pulled high into a bun and momentarily met the woman’s gaze. A flutter stirred in her stomach. Cori looked away, turning her attention back to her seatmate.

  She said, “Say no more, sweetie. I’m sorry to hear about your loss.” She shuffled some of her bags around, placing a backpack atop her sandal-clad feet. “I came to get away myself. Had never done South America before, figured the Amazon would be a treasure trove for my camera.” She patted the small black bag slung at her side. “Christmas present from the grandkids.”

  “Damas y caballeros!” The bus driver appeared at the end of the narrow aisle next to the steering wheel and started speaking. The bus had filled up, and Cori glanced around while the driver continued in Spanish. The young couple she saw earlier had taken a seat near the door. Behind them, a handsome black-haired man wearing short shorts and a fitted T-shirt looked out the window. A trio of people—Northern European in look and talk—ignored the driver and continued their animated conversation in the back.

  “Lord, I forgot my Spanish dictionary. Are you gettin’ any of this?”

  Cori focused briefly on the driver. “He says we’re heading out and the ride to the boat should take about an hour and a half.”

  Wiping at her neck beneath the edges of a short haircut, the woman put in a pair of headphones. “Thanks, darlin’. I’m Judy, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Cori. Nice to meet you, too.”

  After the driver took a seat, the bus shuddered to a start and rumbled out of the town’s plaza. Meanwhile, Cori turned to peer once more at the bustling city of Iquitos. As she did, she again locked eyes with the lithe, olive-skinned woman now seated two rows behind her. The woman’s face was long and narrow, and her slightly hooked nose curved gracefully over a pair of full lips. Cori realized she was staring when the woman smiled.

  The bus ride from the city to the quiet village of Nauta was uneventful, and Cori was grateful for the time to herself. She let the sound of the bus and its chattering passengers fill her mind. She even allowed herself the playful thoughts associated with the woman sitting behind her. After all, wasn’t it the reason she’d booked this trip? To let some fun back into her life?

  The bus lurched to a stop. Outside the window, rows of shabby but brightly painted homes lined a dirt street.

  One by one the tour group got off the bus. Cori took an extra second with her backpack strap while she waited for Judy to gather her things. She was looking down when she stepped into the aisle and nearly walked right into the beautiful woman with stunning hazel eyes, something Cori noticed in such close proximity.

  “Adelante,” the woman said. Cori moved ahead, scampering off the bus and into the warm October afternoon. She felt the woman’s gaze on her but didn’t have the guts to slow down and make conversation. She didn’t look Peruvian, but Spanish rolled off her tongue so easily she was most likely South American.

  Cori pondered where she might be from as she followed the tour group down a dirt path strewn with old boat parts, pecking chickens, and stray dogs. They eventually climbed three winding flights of concrete steps up to
the front of a house, the inside of which resembled an old hotel. It had a patterned carpet that was outdated but clean, and large mirrors hung on every wall between pieces of native artwork. Upon reaching the front desk, their group was passed off to a short, kind-faced Peruvian man with shaggy hair who wore a Nike T-shirt and loose pants that fell over a pair of rain boots.

  “You all are here for jungle tour?” He said it in Spanish first, then repeated it in English in Judy’s direction. The group nodded. He clapped his hands together. “Excellent. We go now.”

  They followed him down the opposite side of the house. Outside, the sun shone over a worn-down dock built haphazardly at the bank of the river. In the water below bobbed a speedboat with a hard canopy cover—large enough to protect all eleven of them from the blistering sun beating down overhead.

  The tall, dark-haired man in tight clothing eyed the boat before saying in Spanish, “Will this take us to the huts? I signed up for a three-day excursion away from the city.” His accent was particular to Spain, and Cori wondered if this was his first time in South America.

  “We will see plenty of things,” their tour guide, Hugo, replied in a singsong voice.

  The boat ride was quiet, save for Hugo’s occasional facts regarding the villages lining the river. They sped down a branch that fed into the Amazon, part of which they were promised they would see later. As they raced over the water, Cori took in her first glimpses of the jungle. The depths of flora appeared endless, and layers of trees hung down on either side of the river, which she was surprised to find so brown.

  “Mining,” Hugo said with a sad shrug when she commented on it. “We care very much about nuestro rio but do not always do our best to take care of her.”

  Finally, once they had traveled nearly an hour and there was no civilization in sight, their boat pulled up to a dock. After gathering their things, the group filed onto the shore using a set of wooden stairs that climbed up the steep bank, then followed Hugo up a hill where a raised, planked path lay stretched out on five-foot-high stilts. “In case of flood.”