They started out as friends, a connection that had blossomed into love. Neither status - not "Friend", not "Lover" - seemed to be diminished by the sometimes competing demands of the other. She was a trouper, accommodating in all of the things that they did together, and especially so in bed. She had rescued him from a terminal midlife crisis and even though he didn't need any more reason to love her, their torrid lovemaking made it all the sweeter. The sex was the icing on a really rich cake of emotion and desire and he took all manner of opportunity to make it happen: In a closet. In the car under an overpass. On the interstate with the flashers on. In the office on a desk, on the floor, or wherever the situation presented itself. It was guerrilla love and it was exciting. And, after years of stolen moments, here they were on their honeymoon and it was like a fantasy.
A five-star resort with pristine and idyllic beaches, cabanas and cabin boys, jet skis and sailboats, lounge chairs and chaises, fancy drinks, a casino. A tropical paradise and, now, he conspired, a morning to remember; something that would really set the last days of their holiday off. She did not complain when he nudged her and whispered "Hey, let's go down to the beach and watch the sunset. It will be an adventure." Even under normal circumstances he wasn't much of a sleeper. But she was. And here? She knew the exact scope of the "adventure" and had every reason in the world to be tired. They had, their traveling companion noted, fucked just about every twenty minutes of the trip. And "God damn it," she could have said, "I'm sunburned!" But, no, she grabbed a blanket and gamely trudged off with him to the beach, down to the surf to one of the many hammocks that the hotel had set up in the coconut grove.
"Damn," he thought when they got there, "it's cold." Ensconced in the huge rope hammock, cocooned in their blanket, they used each other's warmth as a shield and as an excuse to become entwined in their excellent quest. They marveled at the tropics, at the wondrous setting of this beautiful beach, listened to the surf, waited for the dawn. They dozed off and when he awoke he nudged her, nuzzled her, scraped his teeth on the fur of her nape, caressed her, squeezed her, snuggled her, cupped and spooned her, rocked her with his torso back from her torpor until she responded and they were locked in full passion.
Then she got startled. "What was that?" The coconut tree had creaked above them and she was now centered on the darkness above. "It's nothing," he assured her, anxious to continue. "There's something up there," she said. She was a country girl, she reminded him. She knew when there was something in a tree. "I tell you there's something up there." "It's just a limb creaking," he offered. "On a coconut tree?" "Are you stupid?" flashed across her smirking countenance. "Well, they're just like regular trees. Limbs get old, dry out and fall to the ground." He persisted, whispering in her ear again that it was "nothing" and raked his teeth along her lobes. "It's just a dry limb getting ready to fall off."
She capitulated.
They returned to their lovemaking.
But, they were being watched.
Maybe it was their lovemaking that pulled the voyeur into the mix. He must have gotten so enthused by their lust that he peered out too far. Or, maybe, he had been caught up there by surprise when they had chosen his hammock and he hadn't had a chance to get away. But, for whatever reason, he was up there looking down on their private moments when the limb broke with a loud snap and down on them he fell.
They heard the limbs breaking. And since they were on their backs they were looking up at the source of the commotion - up there in the void. They could tell by the noise and the crashing that it was more than just some small animal and certainly not just the tree ridding itself of an old useless appendage. It took seconds but it seemed like years for him to fall onto the hammock and when he did it was, mercifully, over before they could react with more than just their ear-piercing yowls.
But, they were being watched.
Maybe it was their lovemaking that pulled the voyeur into the mix. He must have gotten so enthused by their lust that he peered out too far. Or, maybe, he had been caught up there by surprise when they had chosen his hammock and he hadn't had a chance to get away. But, for whatever reason, he was up there looking down on their private moments when the limb broke with a loud snap and down on them he fell.
They heard the limbs breaking. And since they were on their backs they were looking up at the source of the commotion - up there in the void. They could tell by the noise and the crashing that it was more than just some small animal and certainly not just the tree ridding itself of an old useless appendage. It took seconds but it seemed like years for him to fall onto the hammock and when he did it was, mercifully, over before they could react with more than just their ear-piercing yowls.
They clutched each other in a giant fetal position.
A five-foot-long two-hundred-pound iguana hit the hammock. They had seen these characters just hanging around the grounds, almost as large as an alligator but so languid that they had to stare at them just to see if they moved.
A five-foot-long two-hundred-pound iguana hit the hammock. They had seen these characters just hanging around the grounds, almost as large as an alligator but so languid that they had to stare at them just to see if they moved.
Yet, here he was - IN A FUCKING TREE! - but now maneuvering along the hammock ropes at the speed of light. He hit the hammock at their feet. A paw - if that's what you call that thing with those razor-sharp Manchu talons - deftly found an area for leverage somewhere below their legs. At the same time his other limb dug in along the side of the hammock and, again, somehow avoided hitting them.
He balanced the sling so it didn't overturn. He hissed as he nimbly went like some Olympic gymnast all the way around their cowering hulks, his tail swishing over their heads as he pushed off somewhere over their ducked heads, hissed at them again just to let them know he was pissed, jumped into the brush and scurried off.
They sat there horrified. In all of their years together, they never held each other tighter nor needed the security of each other's arms more. Then the dawn appeared as if to reassure them. They looked at each other and shook their heads in amazement. They kissed in an almost platonic way. As friends. For comfort. They fell back down on the hammock. She nestled into his arms. They waited for the warmth of the sun and the rest of their days.
They sat there horrified. In all of their years together, they never held each other tighter nor needed the security of each other's arms more. Then the dawn appeared as if to reassure them. They looked at each other and shook their heads in amazement. They kissed in an almost platonic way. As friends. For comfort. They fell back down on the hammock. She nestled into his arms. They waited for the warmth of the sun and the rest of their days.
