A Sex Scene with Pain



"Life's a piece of shit when you look at it." That's my favorite song from Monty Python's Life of Brian. It's sacrelegious. I know, but I like it. There's a certain irony, on many levels.

So stands the mystery of life. The yin with the yang. The sorrow and the joy. The inevitability of loss ... and the shit.

I mentioned a sex scene a week or so ago, so I decided to post it tonight.

Can a writer bleed on a page through his pen?

Bitter betrayal, half truths, untruths, lies, and damn lies - it's a broken record that plays over and over. Chck, chck, chck. Shakesperian isn't it.

Here is the scene. I hope you like it. It cost me:

"As I drive down the road to nowhere, a familiar song comes on the radio. I turn it up and begin to sing along. Suddenly, as if teleported back in time, I am in a place long ago, on a beach blanket with a beautiful woman. The rhythm of waves beat gently, to and fro, onto the sandy shore. Darkness envelopes us. I'm with the woman that I will love, desperately. Eternally.

I can smell her perfume, taste her salty sweat commingled with a hint of wine on her lips and tongue. I feel her breast heave slightly as her nipple hardens against my palm. She lifts her hips as I gently pull off her bikini bottoms. She moans; it makes me shiver. Our breath mingles in short jagged gasps.

Her breath quickens. My breath is hot on her lips as my hips press harder against hers, trying to get closer, nearer, more intimate. I can't get close enough. Our lips and tongues taunt each other. There is a desperation. This wasn't suppose to happen. We are just friends. She grinds harder back against me, whispering encouragement and things said in the heat of passion, things said to a someone that you are utterly and completely in love with…it was our first time.

A horn blows, jarring me back to reality. The song ends; the memory ends. The silence pulls me back to the present with a feeling of loss. The memory so fresh and vivid that I still can feel her touch, taste her lips, smell her scent, and here her sighs.

I long for her. Ache for her. I loved her so; I love her still.

We would have married a year ago today. The date was set. The church selected. Dress bought. Invitations printed and mailed. Honeymoon plans arranged.

Tragedy is instant. It doesn't hesitate. It gives no warning. It happens and someone is amputated from your life. A gaping hole, a sucking chest wound, leaving only pain, loss, grief, and guilt.

At the funeral I was the helpless antelope on the nature show, devoured by lions with bewilderment in my eyes, hoping for a quick end that will never come."

Please let me know what you think. Its going in the novel in some incarnation.

To melodramatic? Cliche? Though I can relate, it is fiction folks.

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