Left Behind Ch. 03: End

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Author’s note: This fictional romance includes mature, bisexual, and multiracial elements. Nobody under age 18 participates in sex. Minimal watersports here, and non-sexual violence. For readers’ convenience, most non-Anglish language communications are presented in loose Anglish translation.



(Rosa moves into the future, with love)




Rosa stretched and groaned, and not with sexual pleasure. She was acutely aware that she was no longer a toddlin’ teenybopper – that was half her lifetime ago. Last night’s fun stretched the stamina of her student days.

But she was glad of it! More exercise, more dancing – she would be back in tip-top shape in no time. And she would be ready for more, much more. Even with funky morning-after mouth.

“Uuunnnhhh… gakhh…”

Enough of that. Time for mouthwash. She dragged herself naked from her bed into her bath for basic sanitation. Good thing she had showered last night; she hadn’t the strength right now.

She threw on a track suit for just enough warmth and squeezed a fresh grind of Chiapas coffee through her French press. With a simple breakfast burrito and banana in hand, she plopped on her chaise on the studio’s little back deck, and stared into oak groves lit by the mid-morning sun, and considered.

First things first. Her divorce papers awaited her at the copy center in San Rafael, halfway to San Francisco. The morning rush hour was past; she could make good time on the US-101 freeway. Ride there, sign the suckers, fax them to her lawyer Cici in Guadalajara, and she would be free!

And after that… she would think of something. Something celebratory.

But before even that… Rosa gritted her teeth. She knew she had to get back in the habit of running each day – no excuses. Not if she wanted to be the person she wanted to be. (Huh? Sounds like a thought loop. More coffee!)

Yes, exercise, regular exercise.

She finished her breakfast and coffee, and sighed. She crawled out of the chaise, groaned once more, and dug out her running togs and shoes. Run or die, she told herself again, and tied her hair back into a long black ponytail. She threw herself onto the paved trail and loped through the hardwood groves.

Running was sometimes good for clear thought. Sometimes it was good for singing old songs and making up new ones, or imaginary arguments, or dreams of glory. And sometimes it was best to run with an empty mind and no preconceptions. She chose the Zen run today.

Rosa was doubly exhausted when she returned home. She pulled the note from Serena off the door, the note she had ignored when she started her run.

“Hey prima, don’t wait up for me this evening. I’ll be with Guy. Stay out of trouble. If you can’t, here’s the number of a good bail bondsman. Hearts, Serena.”

A business card was attached: A101 BONDS, CALL 24 HOURS. Rosa shuddered. I’d better not need this, she thought. Is it Serena’s idea of a joke?

She stashed it in her purse anyway.

Rosa stripped and showered. She took the opportunity to finger herself to a pleasant feeling.

“Uuunnnhhh… gahh… oooohhh…”

Standing in a shower was not her favorite position, but what the hell.

Rosa finished, dried, and glanced in the mirror. I’m looking even better, she thought. She was never fat, but now she looked leaner and tighter, in her ass and legs and belly. Good tits, too. And a nice strong face.

She gave her long hair a quick braid before slipping into her skin-tight demon-red riding leathers and boots and grabbing her matching helmet and gloves and a small black fanny-pack for necessities. She kicked-off her motorbike and sped south just a few minutes later through light midday freeway traffic, along the river, through rolling hills, beside the bay, into the small, prosperous county seat.

She stopped at the copy center. A short, sweet mission: sign the paperwork faxed from Guadalajara, fax it back, and ¡arribe! ¡Liberacion! Next stop, the post office. Nothing was in her PO box yet; that was no surprise.

Lunch-hour crowds poured from downtown shops and offices. Rosa decided not to compete with the regulars. She ate standing at a food-cart, munching a falafel and sipping over-sweet tea. The flavors hardly mattered to her. She was free! Now, if only Bobo realized that he no longer had a wife-slave…

Rosa found a quiet corner in a nearby metaphysical bookstore. Woo-woo shops always smelled nice from incense and candles, and the clerks were low-key and slightly spaced. She punched Cici’s number into her phone.

“Hola, Rosa. How you doing up there in El Norte? Pretty happy, I bet!”

“Happy as I can be! It’s all done there, right?” Rosa tried to stay calm.

“Sí, the fax arrived and I’ve sent it to be filed in the municipio archives. You can sell your engagement and wedding rings now. You’ll need to, to pay the judge.” Cici’s casino oyna smoky cackle hissed over the phone line.

“I’m doing just fine, Cici. I’ve already got a home, a job, wheels, clothes, friends, hot prospects for bed-buddies, and a better attitude.”

“Oh girl, I know how you like to dress. You’re going to have boys yelling ¡mucha ropa!, too many clothes, take it off! You’re going to be a cruel vampira and suck their little hearts dry, aren’t you?”

“Oh, something like that,” Rosa laughed. “I started already. It’s not hard. My, ah, old friend here took me to a jitzy club by the university last night, and before that we went out with these kids – I swear they’re only half as old as me, sometimes a few years more – and I’m already like a meat magnet. I’m going to have LOTS of fun here!”

“I bet you are, chica. And you’re going to tell me all about it! Just like you’re going to tell me what’s happened to you already. You promised me EVERYTHING, and I’m going to collect!”

“You’ll hear it all, for sure. But it’s not something I can tell like this – we need to be face-to-face, not on a phone.” Rosa thought for a moment. “Hey, do you plan to be near the border anytime soon? We could meet, catch up, confess everything, the works.”

“Hmmm, you know, I have meetings in Mexicali in a couple weeks, scheduled for over a long weekend. Think you can get there? You have enough money to make that trip in time?”

“That’s no problem, and a weekend is fine. That’ll be great! Text me the details, yeah?” Rosa coughed; that sandalwood incense was strong.

“But there’s one thing…” Cici started.

“I know,” Rosa interrupted. “We’ll have to decide which side of the border to meet on. I haven’t seen anymore online about Bobo’s dick, the detective he had following me. Have you heard anything new on the grapevine?”

“Just a little buzz, nothing worthwhile. But I’ll keep my ears open, and you’ll keep your eyes open, and we’ll make sure we don’t walk into a trap.”

They chatted a bit longer. Rosa felt wired when she switched the phone off. Free! Single! Legal! She almost burst with elation. A small shadow crossed her heart – her children? She sighed and pushed that thought aside for now.

She must have radiated her mood. A clerk walked to her, an older, thin-faced blonde in a long rusty Madras skirt and violet satin blouse with a Nepalese amber necklace and simple sandals. Sparkling eyes peered through blue-tinted lenses set in oval wire frames.

“I couldn’t help overhearing you. Sounds like you got good news, yes? And maybe something still to worry about?” She cocked her head inquisitively.

Rosa grinned. “Great news! My divorce is final!” Her grin faded slightly. “And yes, worries. I don’t know how my new ex will take the news; it kind of snuck up on him. He could still be trouble.” She brightened again. “But I have a new life now! A whole new world! Home, job, friends, a future.”

The blonde nodded. “I know you’ll do well; you’re sending out really superb vibrations. Even with your chakras out of tune, your aspect is ascending.”

Rosa nodded back. She did not mind woo-woo talk, even if it was fuzzy.

“But we never escape our pasts,” the clerk said. “All that karma, all those memories and actions and reactions – that’s baggage we haul around. And we can’t just dump it because it IS what we are. We’re all made of everything that came before; and what we do now, invents the future. Just a minute…”

The blonde levitated to an unobtrusive cooler and poured two glasses of cold sweet jamaica tea. “I’m thirsty and so are you. Enjoy.” She handed over a glass. “And I’m Megan and you aren’t.” She grinned.

“I’m Rosa and I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway,” Megan continued, “we carry the burden of our histories as we go sliding down the razor-blade of life. It’s heavy. Under that weight, it cuts. Ouch.” She winced; so did Rosa.

“Your burden isn’t only what you were and are, but also what you’ve left behind. You left behind a husband – but not him alone. Your shared family – you are a mother, yes? With children? And your children have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. Where are your children in your life now? And the rest of your family? No, don’t tell me; tell yourself. See, you are your own burden.”

Rosa felt… pangs of guilt? Yes, she thought of her children every day. No, she had not tried to contact them yet. She sighed. Yes, she knew she would have to deal with all that. But later. Not now.

Megan watched Rosa’s silent internal debate. She nodded.

“No, we can’t dump the burden. The trick is, to make it as weightless as possible. No, we can’t just wish it away – but we can share it. Meditation lets you share it with the universe. Oh, don’t worry, I won’t sell you anything. Meditation is like miso soup, it isn’t for everyone. Another way to share the burden is to talk. You aren’t around here, are you?”

Rosa shook her head. “No, I’m, uh… up north a ways.”

“Uh canlı casino huh. Look, we have a little network, a support group for people going through changes. We’re in towns all around. Here’s how you can get in touch if you want.” Megan passed Rosa a card for a website. “We’re here if you ever need to talk, to unload, to share some of your burden and other burdens. We’re all dancing at the edge of night; our friends just try to light some candles so we don’t fall off that edge.”

“A support group – that sounds good. I don’t know how much I can tell anyone. It’s been weird.”

“It’s up to all of us to say what we will, and be quiet when we will, and to listen, anonymous or open. That’s all it takes.”

Rosa stood and tucked the card away. She picked up her helmet and gloves and smoothed her leathers.

“I’m going to fly now. Thanks; I know where to look for support.” She hugged Megan lightly. “And I’ll be back here. Might even buy something!” She looked around; a bright little Ganesha pendent on a thin silver chain caught her eye. The elephant-headed god of overcoming obstacles, of wisdom and learning and creating, silently spoke to her. “In fact… I’ll take this, now.”

Rosa rode north with Ganesha tucked into her cleavage.

And her future seemed bright, indeed.


It was not only the coffee and tea and tasty food, nor the ruby Husqvarna’s edgy hyper-bumblebee vibrations. No, it was the realization that she was free. FREE! Rosa was BUZZED! Her body felt like a power tool set to HIGH or an amp with the volume dialed up to eleven.

This was a time for working out, not sedate freeway riding.

She spun on a turnoff through the coastal hills. George Lucas’ Skywalker Ranch lurked just over a northern ridge. Narrow drought-lowered lakes stretched through the sere, yellowed autumn grasses that made California the Golden State. Their dry tangy smell sifted past Rosa’s faceguard.

The road twisted sinuously to Point Reyes National Park, then north along the San Andreas Fault zone’s savage serenity. Twisty sidetracks snaked up eroded ravines and rocky defiles.

Rosa leaned sharply into the steep banked curves and felt a raw exhilaration balanced with the icy calm of total control. She could ride out this road like she could ride out her life, no matter where twists and turns took her.

The narrow highway carried Rosa past soggy estuaries and along a rough coast lined with rocky pillars – remnants of collapsed arches. She cut inland on a steep track through sheep and goat ranches, old ridge-top communes, redwood groves, and down into the mountain village of Occidental.

She sipped spicy chai at a shaded cobbled-sidewalk table and scanned the quaint town. Imported and local craft shops; family-style Italian eateries; a day spa. Hmm, a massage would feel real good… but later, not now. And she knew who to call.

Rosa’s senses sang. Every illuminated object was bright and detailed. Every sound and scent was sharp. Her nerves seemed to reach from her skin, through her tight riding leathers, out into the crisp fresh air – air that tasted of freedom. Balance, kinesthesia, time… everything flowed with grace and equipoise in a kind of perfection. She felt optimal.

Some few pedestrians walked by with nodded greetings or electronic self-absorption. Those who noticed her, slowed, and looked again.

A troupe of young people jogged past her and down Bohemian Highway. She watched the lithe, sweating, barely-dressed bodies, and licked her full lips. She finished her chai and rode on.

Fading sunlight rimmed the coast-range crest when Rosa dodged yet more suicidal squirrels and rolled into her parking spot. She felt an almost post-orgasmic glow as she lathered-up in the shower. Her fingers twitched – no, that’ll be taken care of soon enough, she thought.

Rosa tied her ponytail back, dressed in silky plum pajamas, poured herself a cold ginger beer, and plopped on the couch. She scrolled through her Android phone’s address book. There he was: Dave Dillon. She visualized the barely-legal surfer-blond medical-massage student as she saw him on Sunday’s hike – tight black training shorts and thin tee, toned musculature, superb abs. And she remembered his light touch. Yes, she knew who to call for a massage.

“Hi Dave, it’s me, Rosa Cortés, from the Sierra Singles hike and our drive to Bodega Bay, remember?” She was only a little nervous.

“Rosa! Sure I remember! How are you doing? What’s up?” He sounded happy.

“What’s up is, I’ve had a fantastic day. I can’t wait to tell you about it.”

“So you’re having adventures and excitement and stuff? And it’s good?”

“Hell, yes. I feel great, but… well, I feel like cooking, and talking, and who knows what? Can I hijack your busy evening? Maybe bribe you with dinner for a massage on my worn-out muscles?” She floated a coy tone on her voice.

“Oh, I’m easy to bribe, and I’ve got nothing else for this evening that kaçak casino can’t wait. Easy classes tomorrow. I wouldn’t mind a meal, either. What’s your time frame?”

“How about right now? Or, better yet, in an hour. A little prep time, yes?”

“An hour is fine with me. Can I bring anything non-alcoholic? Give me a hint on flavors.”

“I’ll be fairly simple tonight, just a seafood and veggie paella, and flan for dessert. Let’s see, what don’t I have here… I know, fresh cider would be just right. Can you swing that?”

“No problem – I’ll stop at the Co-Op for a cold jug. Where do I go then?”

Rosa texted directions to him. She felt a warm glow of excitement after they signed off. Oooh, she was going to celebrate her freedom, yes, and young Dave was going to get VERY lucky!



Rosa stretched in the dim light of dawn and bumped into a body beside her in bed. Dave! She snuggled into his warmth. Memories of last night flooded over her, and she nearly flooded herself. Damn, that boy knew how to use his cock! And his hands… oh, those strong, skilled hands…

Dinner, and dessert; Mexican coffee with raw sugar and good mezcal; a little hashish; a modest massage that quickly turned sensual; an awesome suck-fuck-slurp session, and another; and a friendly night in bed. Celebration!

Dave’s young blue eyes opened and surveyed Rosa’s dark beauty. Yes, he thought, she was a classy lady, and a tasty cook, and one helluva exciting bedmate. Yes, this was one of his better nights, ever.

“Morning, Rosa.” He reached for yer. She reached back. They embraced and kissed. “I don’t mind morning mouth if you don’t.” Their tongues expressed their disregard for mere flavors.

Rosa’s mature ebony eyes bored into him. “You are just what I needed, Dave. You are the first man I’ve slept with since my ex-husband… oh, I won’t talk about him. But you’re really good for me, Dave. Really good.” Well, except for his tendency to hurry, maybe. He needed a little training. Not much – just work on the details.

She held him close. She felt his manhood pressed stiffly against her. She tapped him gently with her thumb.

“Bet you have a piss-on there, hey, Dave? I’m kind of bloated too. Race you to the bathroom!” She hopped out of bed.

Dave gazed at her delightful naked butt’s tight sexy shimmy as she trotted to the bathroom door. He shook his head, almost disbelieving his immense good fortune, before quickly following her into the bath.

Rosa did not like to waste water. She jumped in the shower as the flow warmed. “C’mon in here,” she ordered. She grabbed his arm and dragged him in beside her. “You got to pee? Don’t be shy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself up, relaxed slightly, and let urine flow out and down her legs. He laughed and jetted his own stream against her thighs and knees.

No, Rosa did not believe in wasting water – but is it ever wasted when showering with a friend? They lathered each other, and scrubbed carefully, and taste-tested the results. Lovely! They thoughtfully dried the other’s bare flesh before jumping back into bed.

Dave did not require much suction to be blown back to firmness. Rosa easily rolled a condom on him with her mouth, and then crawled onto her elbows and knees in doggy position. She looked over her left shoulder.

“Fuck me, Dave. Fuck me hard.” Her dark eyes were insistent.

“Your wish, my command, my lady… oh fuck… oh yeah…”

Damn, these twenty-year-olds just keep going and going!

He filled the large condom; it was speedily replaced, and re-inserted, and re-filled; and again. Rosa came more than once with each of Dave’s three bellowing ejaculations. Damn, that boy knew was fun! She would HAVE to get him back here. Yeah, return sessions, many return sessions. Many happy returns, she laughed to herself.

They huddled together in shared sweat and passion. Rosa rolled on top of Dave and pressed her firm breasts into his muscular chest. Her tongue sought his tonsils. His hands strolled across her sweet cheeks and then slithered up her sides and arms, and back to her rumpus delecti.

They heard a rap-a-tap-tap on the studio’s front door.

“That’s my cousin Serena, y’know, from the hike? She probably…”

“I know her. Go ahead, see what she wants. I’ll wait.” Dave grinned.

Rosa did not bother to cover herself when she opened the door. Serena stood alone, wearing skintight sky-blue coveralls, scrolling her phone’s screen display. She looked up and giggled, then looked past Rosa and giggled again. “Hi there, Dave. You comfortable? Have a good time?” She chortled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hi, Serena,” Dave waved. “Top o’the morning to ya.”

Serena scanned her glowing nude prima head-to-toe, stopping briefly at the assorted hickies, bites, and bruises. “Yeah, I guess so… Anyway, you’ll get an official call from Human Relations later today. They want you to start on Monday. So have your fun before then, ’cause after that, it’s WORK!” She thumb-checked Rosa’s left nipple. “And as much play as you can fit in, for sure. Maybe even Tuesday nights, if you play nice.” She clucked her tongue. “Real nice.”

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