I slept by her side almost every single night I was in Los Angeles for six happy months in 1992 and the routine was nearly always the same. We would get off work at 7:00 in the morning and then return exhausted to her beachside apartment and amidst small talk we would jump out of our clothes, crawl into bed, quickly make love, and then fall promptly asleep. I can still remember floating in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness listening to the ocean waves crash on the beach outside her bedroom window. The world surrounding us might have been busily preparing itself for the new day, but for us it was all coming to a quiet close.
For her and I the day began around three or four in the afternoon. We would awaken from long slumber with our legs intertwined in the intimacy of shared sleep. We would rub the sleep out of our eyes, mumble "good morning," brush our teeth, visit the bathroom, etc. and then come back to bed fully awake and refreshed. Lying there with the afternoon sun pouring in through the bedroom window, I would reach out to touch her and the central activity of our day would begin. She was a fully mature woman who knew her body well, and I - while old enough to know what I was doing - was in the full vigor of my youth; the combination was explosive.
And so we would continue hour after hour in the absorption of the hypnotic back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth rhythm of physical love "...like the surf biting the shore, again and again..." until it seemed the very walls were sweating and time stood still; sharing the truth of two moving as one in sensual feeling and total communication. We would continue like this with the sun shining down on us through her window and the sweat stinging the eyes until we were both completely drained. Lying there in the calm afterwards, there was no need of talk.
Eventually, we would get up and share a leisurely shower and finally put on some clothes. Kissing her good-bye, I would emerge from her apartment around sunset and then drive to my favorite restaurant in nearby Culver City where at last ready to face the day I would order dinner and open the daily newspaper. However, I would sometimes still feel the inertia of the back-and-forth, back-and-forth movement of earlier. I would look down at my hips and, sure enough, they were not moving. But I would close my eyes and feel as if I were being rocked back and forth by the gentle sway of the ocean tide. I would sit there staring contentedly out the resaurant window at nothing in particular with my brain still operating at a lower more primal level. After such afternoons with her, I luxuriated in the satisfied feeling of simply being a living breathing animal on this earth.
After finishing my dinner, I would drive back home and get ready for another night of work. I would go on duty around 11:00 P.M. where I eagerly looked forward to seeing her again, and the cycle would start anew.
ON THE BEACH