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It was Tse Bitai, as the Navajo called it, the Winged Sentinel of the Four Corners, the great Ship Rock. Even at noon in the paschal week it threw out a serrated penumbra, a Clovis point aimed at earth. It defied time and night itself. She'd been lazy today, tired of looking at flowers, so barehanded up the sheer breccia tower she'd climbed, just for the fun of it. Its face was a 5.10 non-trad pump, if you can imagine, but up the lithe little botanist had indian ascended like a leaf in an updraft, not the full seventeen hundred feet, of course, nobody can do that; pussy this skilled young woman had gone up only as far she could, where, luckily, she had happened upon a sunny small rock strewn amateur cwm at about 66 feet, garnished with a lone improbable Golden Mariposa. She had been too tired to wonder why it was there, growing out of rock, though it had been her job to wonder why. She had had been working hard, and she needed a few winks. She curled up on the side of this red Olympus, uncaring of her unkempt iron-oxide hair, and in the spring warmth, drifting, her drowsy moss-green-gray merles rolled back -- oh! -- a start and a sleepy glance... her eyes rolled back then to gaze upon dreamland. Draped on the precipice and as careless as a kitten asleep in the crotch of a tree, there held warmly by her stony Piet� , she floated into deep slumber. Blanketed in Sol's comforter, the five-and-a-half foot Amazon, cradeled in the Land of Enchantment, watched herself, as dreamers do, dawdling in a different Land without Adam. She eyed herself searching for a white lily in a garden of pink Carolina Phlox. She surveyed her avatar as it dandled the puple floweres, so delicate, so rare, an Ipomopsis sanct-spiritus offered up to her in the Sangre de Cristos, alive only in the Holy Ghost Canyon. She, lost in a jumble of drifting images and unaware of the Cholla and Prickly Pair and slithering dangers in the motherland below her repose, now dreamt she heard Moki's distant barking urging her to come home. He seemed so real -- and he had desi been talking to her earlier but she couldn't understand -- and, and -- but his entreaties -- and, and -- he had become garbled, muffled as a penitent's prayer in a Cape Hatteras hurricane, or murmers, as if by her sweet and frail and Baptist, deep Southern, Miss Granny Smith. "Moki!" It was the alarm-bark going off, rousing her with the unwilling urgency of a schoolgirl waking late for the bus. It was Mom’s hurry up call. Now! Moki needed his water. Now! A botanist needed her work! Now! (Well, mostly.) The field survey was supposed to be done today. Get it done, girl. Now! Relocate that Calypso bulbosa. Find that seep. Go! Wake up! "Ohhhhh, I'm coming", she moaned to herself. She rolled onto her tummy and elongated into a lazy feline stretch, her skin a pink tabby of welts from her rock-sand bedstead. She had india dreamt, or had she imagined it, hmmm, not sure, or had she just now remembered some sticky North Carolina summer six years ago? Parties and politics, beer, philosophy and sex before graduation, love and babies, and the drip of salt her tongue had wiped from her young friend's penis. She droopily glanced over her shoulder at the wide Navajo plains below and took a salt lick from her muskeg forearm. She nuzzled it, trying to recapture the taste of him and the heavy sweet odor of his upraised arm, but it was not he. She had turned tail on love with a man. She was independent: It was her nature. Janey makes some money She then turns back to me. “See what else you can find out and we’ll talk later.” You just lied there, looking up at mommy in indian awe, helping me getting your trousers off, you even tried to help me unbutton your shirt, but you were simply too regressed already and your fine motor skills were a mess. Gawd, it felt so good and I could not retreat. “Oh, and just so you know, I told my roommate I was sneaking a girl in, so he’d have to hit the bricks for a couple of hours. Luckily for me, my boyfriend of the last 18 months, Jason, had been accepted into desi the same college as me and india we were both rooming together. I’m a lesbian but I’d choose pussy a night with Klink any time. "Are you getting exhausted?" “Danielle!” Georgia whimpered, her amateur fingers pulling on her nipples. The idea to go urban exploring in a miniskirt and a tank top without a bra or panties sounded ridiculous. She could stay in Vegas with her dumb friend. His whole world seemed to spin with the motion. Luuk is a really cool guy, too! Though before they could even take a drink from their glasses Pleasure Slave 3613-A decided to start things out with a toast. Realizing the wine was starting to work I stood up and put out my hand. I had dreams about the whole situation during my whole nap.