Oh, No! Oh, No! Shit! Shit! Shit! Olivia panted in tandem with her sprinting pace. She was in a full blown panic, her heart was racing, her eyes were were almost rolling around of their own volition, as she scanned the unfamiliar hallway for somewhere safe, somewhere where he won't find her, somewhere where she could find the space to breathe-think.


Then suddenly, the flashes began.


His large, tanned hands spanning her pecan-toned abdomen. The sexy contrast of light against dark. Her slightly rounded stomach was striated like the sweet nut. A consequence of childbirth. She glanced at him wondering what he thought of her imperfections, her battle scars from bringing life into the world. Did he even know what they where?


He was watching her, watching the bevy of emotions and thoughts cross her face. As she looked up, he caught her glance and telegraphed with his eyes what his mouth announced. “Beautiful.” He promised.


Her stomach muscles clenched at the sound of his favor. She closed her eyes, so that she could more closely experience the feel of the tips of his fingers touching her core. His fingers tips were lightly touching her, testing out the feel of the skin on her belly. It felt like every cell under his fingers were reaching out to him, calling for him to push away the past and create new memories, sweeter, better, his, and hers.


She shook her head which sent her crashing to the present. Those around her were looking at her strangely. Some looked like they were about to inquire if she was okay.


Dammit! Do I look like I am okay? I am falling apart and I need a little room to do that in. Thank you very much.


Through her tears, she managed to give the “stink eye” to a man who looked like he was about to inquire after her well being. They were in a New York City skyscraper and all New Yorkers are fluent in “stink eye”, the man received his qeue, and got on the elevator to who knows where.

Finally, she spotted a bench in an alcove outside of some posh office suite, with smokey, glass doors. As she dropped herself on the chair, she realized that she was actually weeping. That is the one thing that she hated about her reaction to startling events. It started all the waterworks going. She knew her adreneline was through the roof. She had the feeling like she could do double back handsprings down the length of the hall to earn a pefect 10, even from that judge from Romania, who didn't give Americans anything above a 9.56. The problem was, her rational mind explained to her that she didn't know how to do a cartwheel, and an office building's hallway was definitely not the Olympics.


Then the worm was turning. The rush of adreneline was ebbing away and a slighty nauseating feeling was taking its place. Olivia hunched over her lap and tried to rock the feeling away, all the time mumbling, “Shit, Shit, Shit...”



Another flash hit.



They were in the same position as before. His head was resting on the pillow at the head of the bed and his body was one long tan piece of candy laying along the bed. His hands were drawing slow circles around the outside of her thighs. Olivia was settled, with her knees on either side of his waist. But this time she was slightly elevated. For awhile the momentum of his hand drew her body to react like and old locomotive. Up and down, Up and down. He wasn't even inside of her, but the strength of his sensuality called out to her long dormant one and pulled her along with just the force of his hands.


She remembered the feeling of the tiniest tip of him touching the soft, effusive, lips of her pussy. It had been so long since she had anything resembling a penis at that orafice. Somehow if felt like he knew because he let her lead. He watched as she took hold of him through the “V” of her legs and gently rubbed him against the nub of her desire. The feeling was like a knock-out punch. Olivia's head fell to her chest and she felt her eyes well up.


How could she have denied herself THIS for so long? Did she really hate herself so much to miss out on the special sensation of the most intimate part of a man's body rubbing, teasing, imprinting himself on hers.


The idea almost made her sob with repentance. This is a new start. This was the new Olivia. If she would be allowed to indulge in this one, perfect fantasy, she promised to leave and change all that was wrong with her life. She resloved to do better.


The sound of the door closing and two women entering the hall drew her out of the film reel playing in her mind. She head followed the women as she watched them pass her, then she leaned her head against the wall behind her.


“What is he doing here, why now?” she thought to herself.


Unbidden, her mind called out this name, “Christopher.” 


        ******************************************


He sister had finally had enough of her barely participating in life. She floated through her responsibilites, but hadn't been really engaged in the living in life for so long, she didn't remember the last time she had felt joy. The bit of effort she showed she displayed for the benefit of her kids. She knew she was a crummy parent, but she couldn't find the energy to be better.


That was until her sister sat across from her one evening and handed her the ticket.


“Olly, you can't go on like this. I can't let you go on like this anymore”. Her sister looked at her with concern and love. “We finally have you on the depression medication, so I don't have to leave the house terrified that you are going to do yourself in, but Olly that is not enough. You are better, but you are not at your best.”


Olivia, looked at her sister. She had been Oliva's lifeline for the last few years. Naja filled in all the gaps that she left in her wake; in her float through life. She owed her. Olivia chuckled as she answered her sister, it sounded hollow even to her ears, “Aren't you afraid that I will go off my meds and just throw myself from the railing.”


“Absolutely not funny.” Her sister replied. Naja pulled away from the table, clearly pissed. “I am tired of this, I am tired of this vacant person who has taken over your body for the last year and a half. I guess I should be jumping for joy that I don't get blank eyes anymore, and at least you are self-aware enough to remember that there are certain appropriate responses to certain stimuli, not just quiet stares and crying. But I am greedy, I want all of you be present, standing on your own two feet, enjoying life.


“And a cruise is going to do all of that? Wow, how much did you have to pay for that ticket? Here I was wasting my money on Zoloft.” Olivia mumbled.


“Olly, if you make one more joke about your depression, I am going to gag you.” Naja was deathly serious. “Look this is not up for discussion, I have bought the ticket, I have shopped and paid for your wardrobe, and your departure is this weekend. Let me make myself clear, you will be on that boat, and if you try something cute and make yourself late, I will make you swim after it. Do I make myself crystal clear?”


“Yes, momma”


“Wonderful, and don't roll your eyes when I am talking to you. I made those eyes, don't make me take 'em back.” Naja gave a perfect impression of their mother, when they dared sass her.


That is how she found herself on the ship and that is why she spent most of it in her stateroom. Who knew that they will deliver all the food you want directly to your room. It was like a floating hotel. She went out to go to the bookstore and spent her time reading and sleeping. On the last day, she knew her gig was up. Her sister was looking for pictures. Naja was an Attorney. She wanted evidence of a good time.


Olly's eyes finally looked toward the closet that held all of her sister's wardrobe offerings. She knew she was going to have to go to the dining room that evening and she could not think of any excuse to get around it. She had to get dressed, get seen, get pictures; and sell it to her sister like she was a prostitute with her Pimp on her ass.


Olivia did all the things she remembered she used to do on a regular basis. It was interesting, it was like riding a bike. Your body glistens from the application of special bath salts and body scrubs, even after years of neglect. Your hand remembers the art and basic application of makeup on a face held hostage, so long held barren of enhancement and admiration.


After she had finished manipulating the mysteries of a womon preparing to meet the evening, She was stunned. The woman who stood before her, she hadn't seen in a long time. It was like coming upon a friend who you used to know so very well, who you lost touch with. It was similar to that moment when you are finally face to face with that friend and for an embarassing moment, not being able to recall their name.


Olivia Renee Madison. How nice to see you, again.