High Water Sex

​It was a rush. Every time they saw each other. Like teenagers in the back of a car at The Last Real Drive-In Movie Theater. ​

They were grown up adults but something just clicked when they were together.

​Neither of them could put a finger on it, but they both felt it. A powerful lust. Passion. The stuff that keeps you up at night remembering, feeling it. ​​

They wanted each other. Craved it. It made them laugh and wonder what in the world was happening. Crazy stuff, this lust they had. Everyday. All day. Touch me baby. Bring me to myself. Help me let go. ​

They lost track of time, spent hours in bed, explored everything. All the pieces, all the ways. They knew it all. Felt it all. ​

It was intense and beautiful. The stuff they write those songs about. The real deal. ​

Time passed. Eventually, they got married, had kids, had a life. ​
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And the turn on softened. It didn’t disappear, but it was gentler - not the wickedly powerful drive that had been the hallmark of their early experiences. These days, they were often tired. The kids were everywhere. Dripping ice cream cones. Sticky fingers. Two cute dogs that barked too much. Her happy, loving mom who stayed too long. ​​

When they had private time together, it was still game on. The lust was back. The passion. But between those times, they navigated rocks in a river of life. Paddle to the right, steer left. A different kind of real.​
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High water sex. The spring run off. Full to the banks, surging with all the power, all the energy of two people new together. High water sex obscures the rocks. It carries you past eddies, over submerged logs. It’s intense and fast moving. It propels you forward in a rush of everything you’ve ever felt - that anyone’s ever felt. A force of nature. Beautiful velocity. ​​

And in the fall before the rains come again, the river’s slow moving, the water level’s low. There’s a skag in the middle just past where that boulder sits near the eddie. Slow water sex is tender, intentional & informed. The water is clear. The fish rise. Geese fly by on their way South. ​

​The wind blows, you look back at your partner. Are you there, my love? I love you, I’ve got you. I’ll paddle. We’ll get there. Hang on. ​​