Hot beach Saturday night, late. Smoked dope, drank beer wine everything. Everyone crashed (but me). Bored lonely hot, wide-awake. Went to sit on the screened-in porch, cool-breeze, view of the street, peace and quiet. No sleeping snoring ugly spent bodies in my space. Lonely, body aching for warm human touch, needing love, affection.

Out of the night he came, up the steps, through the door, over to where I was sitting on the daybed. Hands under my arms, lifted me to my feet, pressed my body to his, kissed me hard, passionately. His long scraggly hair beard smelled like chicken noodle soup--I like chicken noodle soup--never made love with it before. No words, clothes disappearing. Lips tongues hot kisses everywhere. Heat and sweat the warm breeze through the screen, sleeping spirits in the house a world away. No one knew, no one could see.

All thoughts gone from my head. Only sensation feeling his hands on my body, his lips his hair his hard man-flesh pressed against my soft woman-flesh. Skin-on- skin--so good. Nothing else matters.

Times passes slowly, too quickly. Waves of sensation passing over and over and over like the beach. Leaving the world, the everyday dimension, to another place--want to stay here forever, forever with him, chicken soup, scraggly-beard person I never talk to because he seems so icky, strange, out-of-this-world.

The sun is rising, spent happy body tingling from the sensation the sensation the sensual sensation of he on me, in me, so, so good. Tired, puts his clothes on, out the door, leaves through the dim dawn light. I dress as I watch him disappear, no longer lonely bored. Happy having felt loved close human touch, never speaking, nobody knows no one ever will know, just me and him. Was it a dream?

Suzanne Barish wrote Girls' Night Out in the February, 1997 issue of Grrowl!