Zeen’s Sixth Sense
*ZEEN’S SIXTH SENSE*
Urd decided to listen. “Zeen, what do you mean by touching the edges of
Zeen was already there on edges in her touch adventure. She needed to
touch and speak, almost provide a running commentary or description of
whatever came to mind.
Could be body responses, childhood remembrances, bursts of stimuli,
immediate desires, but most of all, she needed to draw Urd into her
cosmic sensuality. Yes, it was a date with great heat, fire that warmed
constantly, but did not pain.
“Pleasure,” she answered. “This is the first point touching edges of my
There was a thick silence. Urd got the impression that she had changed
her physical position.
“Are you laying down?” he asked softly. “Sounds to me like you’re moving
“What a beautiful question — are you laying down. Did you hear
yourself? That titillated my spine. Wow. I have no choice now. I must
lay on my back. Do you want me to spread my legs a bit, you know, open
my inner moistness to the penetrating moonlight, its center, its edges,
its points of probing? Urd, you started it!”
Urd broke out laughing. “Yes, I started on the edges of my moonlight? I
am yet to see that place.”
“I can show you my edges if you’re really interested. I mean I know you
are, but really? I’m not sure. I do not want to run you away.”
“Do you say this to other men?” he probed.
“Urd, I remembered a song titled for your eyes only. Have you ever heard
it? Its an old one, I guess. Hope this does not date me. To answer your
question, I speak this to no one else but you.”
She continued because Urd’s silence was suggesting that he had somehow
lost words. He returned to his original intention — to listen.
This time she took off. “Pleasure Urd. This body is mathematical. Here’s
the triangle. Uhhh.”
She breathed out and then drew in the breath as if through her teeth. Ssst.
“Urd, from the tip of this triangle, this mathematical model, I can slip
my index with its diverse electrical points down into a place that
swallows it. Ssst. Well, not quite. It moved in it. But I gather, it
depends on whether it’s an index or another extension of the human body.
Urd, are you there? You’re silent.”
“I’m here. Just taking my clothes off. Been in these all day. I think I
need a shower too.”
“Wow. Why not take the telephone into the shower with you. I can speak
with you while you wash your consciousness,” Zeen philosophized.
“I do not think you meant to say consciousness Zeen, given the mood
you’re in,” Urd came alive.
“What did I intend to say?” she asked boldly. “Name it urd.”
The shower came on. Zeen heard it. She became excited and took to fully
undressing. The pink gown pealed off her shoulders.
She reached for two other pillows. She needed pillows to sit on, lift
and place her legs on, bend her back on, wrap her legs around. She just
“Do you want me to describe how I feel as I run my fingers down and
across my body or, do yu want to tell me how you feel as the water hits
your spine Urd,” Zeen asked tantalizingly.
“Tell you the truth, I do not like to talk while I bathe. I’d rather
sing and now, I’m not in the mood to sing. So let’s say, I’ll settle for
silence,” Urd explained.
“OK. Let me tell you why I do what I do with you Monsieur Urd. I am
about to touch you with my voice. I am about to set your loins on fire
over distance. The healers do it over distance. Catholics say it each time.”
“Leave our religion out of your lust,” Urd warned.
Ooops. I forgot, you were once an acolyte, given to hypocrisy and
masturbation. Sorry. Hold that lovely thing again Urd. Rol it back. How
does that feel?” Zeen urged.
“You know you’re sick,” Urd couldn’t help it.
“You know what? You’re stunned because right at the time I told you to
hold it and roll that skin back you had it in your hand. It’s mine Urd.
It’s already cooperating. Look at how it stretches. Lovely.”
“You’re really sick,” Urd laughed agreeably.
“I’m sick, but you love the sick me Urd. I’m sure I make you feel good,
nice, sexy,” she uttered with confidence.
“Dream on,” Urd replied almost with a tinge of sarcasm, but he knew that
after all, his resistance was falling. She was hot, urgent and pointed.
She knew how to move. For some other reason, she had something else
about her that Urd began to suspect — a sixth sense.
“My favoured lover,” she said finally, “this spot is soft, wet,
slippery. You need touch its inner stratifications. It’s slimy as the
inner gelatin in a conch. Do you like the word conch? The ch is
pronounced like a k and this makes it rude, tight and a bit salty. Salt
is in everything tasty, tasty to the tongue particularly. Just imagine
the tongue. O how it speaks. Its red, pink, underneath it may be marked
with green,blue lines. It slips into a lover’s mouth with ease. When the
date is ended, when there’s no sex, you must’ve had a kiss like that
before Urd. Remember when that talking fire slipped between those lovely
strong teeth of yours. This is another. It’s small, but so sensitive. It
sits over the ocean. You know the ocean Urd? You know that land of no
return? Once you’ve tasted the water from its oasis, you’re never the
same again” — sh.