Originally Human

raised his head. "Perhaps you do?"
    My laugh was breathless. "I'm not sure I could make it there. Here is fine." I tugged on his hand, urging him to the earth with me. "Here is wonderful."
    I have all the arts, every skill a woman can use on a man. I was as giddy and awkward as a girl being tumbled in the meadow by the young man she's been walking out with. Together we rediscovered the mysteries of zippers and shoes, removed socks and t-shirts, and made a nest in the long grass on the side of the road.
    Then we were skin-to-skin, and hunger turned from a sweet tide to a roaring torrent. His body was a dream and a delight, but I had no patience left to savor it. Energy rose from his flesh like mist around a waterfall, swirling, tempting, teasing without filling me. My own skin was hot and desperately sensitive. When he licked my nipple I arched up, then pulled him fully over me. His weight pinned me, anchored me. His cock was thick and blunt, uncircumcised. It twitched against my stomach. "Now," I said. "I need you. I need you inside me, Michael."
    "You have me. Take what you need. All that you need." He propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me, his face tight with his own need. "Tell me what to do."
    "Like this." I opened my legs, using my hands to urge his hips forward. His body knew, even if his mind didn't. The swirling energy sucked at me, setting up answering tremors in my body, as my blood, bones, and flesh answered the call of an unseen tide. "Come in. Come inside."
    He thrust. Came into me. And the currents entered with him, and swallowed me.
    Sex is God's way of reminding us not to take ourselves so seriously. There are a thousand ways to arrange two sweaty, straining bodies. Each has its own pleasures, and each is as absurd as it is delightful. Passion—real passion—is different, and rare. It grabs you by the throat and shakes you like a terrier with a rat. Then it flings you off, across the abyss.
    If you're lucky, you don't break when you land. If you're very lucky, you don't land alone.
    I landed sobbing… held safe in Michael's arms.
    He was stroking my hair, my side, my hand as I came back to myself. It took a moment for his quiet murmurs to settle into words. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't… what is wrong, Molly? Tell me,
querida, mío tesoro, a chuisle mo chroj
. Let me make it better."
    I turned my head, which rested on his shoulder. "It's nothing. I'm all right."
    "I have heard of happy tears, but this…" His thumb rubbed some of the dampness from my cheek. "… is not happiness."
    It wasn't so hard, after all, to smile. I shifted, propping up on one forearm so I could see his face. "Have you ever been around an overstimulated two-year-old?"
    He shook his head. "I don't know."
    "They burst into tears for no reason." I traced his lip gently. "Now you've seen an overstimulated three hundred-year-old do the same thing."
    He considered that. "This is a compliment, I think."
    "Oh, yes. And you were wrong. Part of the overload is happiness." I spoke true. I've lived too long to spurn the good God's gifts—and moments like this were just that, gifts of grace that fall like sunshine, unsought and unearned.
    He smiled slowly. "Good." And he urged my head back onto his shoulder, and stroked my hair.
    How strange
, I thought. Here I was, lying on my side with a stick digging into my hip and my lover's heart beating beneath my ear. I was sated and sticky, my muscles lax and warm, my skin cooling. None of the physical sensations were new to me, yet everything was new, fresh-minted.
    How long had it been since I took a lover? Not a sex partner. A lover. I ran my hand over his ribs, marveling. There would be grief later. I didn't care. Loving was gift enough.
    After awhile I asked, "What do you think of the name Sarah?"
    "It means soul in one of the Indian languages, princess in Hebrew. Why?"
    I shrugged my free shoulder. "I need a new name."
    "I like the one you have."
    "So do I. But I can't be Molly Brown anymore. I'm having trouble settling on a new name, though."
    "Names are important. I will give it some thought. Do you want…" His voice drifted into silence even as his body tensed.
    I've hunted, and I've been hunted. I didn't cloud the silence with questions but, like a hare in the bush, went still myself, straining to sort the night sounds. Cars continued to whoosh past on the highway. The breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees. Grass rustled…
    Michael sprang to his feet, yanking