Making Love on the Water

by Betty Havre

Imagine making your way down the Brisbane River on a luxury cruiser with a bevy of naked and near naked escorts on hand to service your sensual pleasures. Making love on the water is a wonderful experience with a willing partner. Watching the city lights reflected on the surface of the river, twinkling like stars beneath you, as you romp into the night with a beautiful girl or boy of your choice. Roman orgies come to mind, aboard a trireme with slaves pulling those oars in rhythm with your pelvic thrusting. Togas cast aside to reveal the graceful buttocks of a man in his prime astride a beautiful woman. The Tiber laps at the bow of your boat and Venus sups at the point of your spear.

Escorts into the boat on the Brisbane River and all your dreams have come at once; but not too quickly, as you want to take your time. All is right with the world; nature is rutting the way nature is meant to rut, and the wake of your pleasure craft cuts across the liquid surface. The heartbeat of lovers pumps in tune with the breath of the night wind. Warm balmy air breezes in through portholes and you can taste the salt on their skin. This is living stripped away from the ugliness of responsibilities and earnest hard work. This is love making en plein air, the way it is meant to be.

A girl moves beneath you because she wants to feel the friction, the frission, between you both. She wants to delight in the dipping in, the delving between, and the deliciousness of it all. A boy cups your breast and covers your lips with his kisses. The smell of sex is everywhere. Skin on naked skin, saliva slippery and tongue tips in cracks and crevices, making forays into foreign places. The memory of business calls, shopping lists, appointments with principals, and the lies you tell your nearest and dearest are fading from your mind. The urgings of your body, the escaping breath, the suction of genitals, and murmurings of mating have cleansed your consciousness of drab morality.

Sunday school and church cake stalls are the furtherest things from your mind. Hair and sweat, muskiness and magic are on the menu now, smiles and spent grins, relief and release. And, you can just hear the current of the water sliding past your boat.