The dress dropped to the floor and he lifted her up, cradling her in his arms as she sucked on the flesh of his lips. He placed her upon a silk sheet...and she moaned with pleasure as he stooped to kiss her neck, her shoulder, her breasts. His bare white teeth slipped across her nipples and she arched her back, fighting that frantic need to pull him into her.His black hair streamed across the mound of her breasts and stomach as his lips gorged on her flesh and his tongue slipped over oily. I point my sandaled feet and kick harder. It's blue and green, matchingthe waters around it, but I can definitely tell that it's a dress. Ipull closer and it seems to almost open up, inviting me. Like a giantflower, and I'm the bee. I swim right up under it, fit my arms into thearmholes, fit my head into the top, and I'm swimming downward in mybrown leather sandals and by blue and green dress.***Sighing.Sometimes you're in the middle of a dream that's so wonderful, you don'twant to wake up. She woke dissatisfied. The daily chores for her parent’s teepee were brief, a mere public presence not suited for flirting with warriors.The weather broke today, so she ventured out far afield after completing her normal duties. Hawks drifted on a light breeze. The sun warmed the ground and brightened the winter camp. Women gathered in clusters. The old men, beyond their prime, watched the clusters, engaged in their own thoughts. Few young men had returned from hunting. She quickly walked. I was reminded of a saying I had heard once in a song: nothing happens till it happens twice. I took that to be a theatrical insight, meaning that something could appear insignificant if it happens once. But when it happens again, you think, “Hang on, why is she doing that?”The placing of a finger on another finger with some pressure but no erotic stroking suddenly demanded an explanation, but I didn’t know what it was. All I did know was that it was some kind of signal, some sort of statement.