Slowly his senses awoke to his surroundings. It was the proverbial “morning after” and the steady sun was doing its regular morning job and waking John from his slumber. John knew the desert sun was different than any other sun. Religions and spiritual movements had originated in the blasting relentlessness of its mid-day searing heat. Yet in the cool early morning the desert light had a delicate ethereal quality. This silvery morning light had an airy careless quality that was hard to describe. For mile after endless mile the new born desert sun painted the endless grey sand with a wash of orangish tangerine-gold hues mingled with highlights and bold streaks of pink and red. The sky was a tie-dye confusion of crazed colours. The Cantonese have a specific expression for this chaos of colour, but John didn’t know of any English equivalent. No solar deity could deny the painted perfection of Mother Nature herself as she unrolled a new day. John looked around dazzled and dazed by the. She shook her head and tried to cover herself with her hands. “No fucking way asshole!,” she vowed, turning to exit the dining room and head up stairs. I followed her. She quickened her pace, and so did I, but just enough to stay close. She ran up the stairs, with me hot on her heels. Entering her bedroom, she tried to slam the door on me, but I got into the doorway too fast and threw my shoulder to the door, causing her to go sprawling on the floor. Barely rising to her feet, she half crawled, half jumped into her bed. Landing on her stomach, she pulled her knees to her chest, balling up into the fetal position. “NO! Don’t you dare touch me, you fucking pervert!” she warned. Climbing onto her bed, I saw the inviting target her ass presented to me. “Oooo, what do we have here?” I asked teasingly. I put one hand firmly on the back of her neck to hold her in place and stroked her ass with the other. “Don’t touch me,” she begged, her sky blue eyes glistening with tears. Ignoring her, I.
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