"Hi, I'm the Buddhist Shakespeare's Sister Tribute Act, 'Namaste-With-Me', Sawyer Martinez."
Natasha laughs loudly, lacing her arms together and twisting her arms up. "Oh, that's awful, mama. That's bad."
"I'm going away for three weeks," Sawyer continues. "But I'll definitely be back! Thanks for having me although I'm away with work a lot."
The group nod and smile at Sawyer, and wish her luck on her trip.
Natasha thinks that this session goes better than it ever has before. Natasha feels calm and benevolent as she helps the room get into their poses. She helps Sawyer, and Sawyer grins at her from her upside-down position. It looks like she's eschewed her usual sports bra and her boobs have flopped forward. Natasha wants to get underneath them like a mechanic under a car and let them fall soft and heavy on her face. Natasha suggest the child's pose as a warm down and while everyone has their face pressed into the yoga mats, she takes the opportunity to drop a small kiss into Sawyer's hair.
At the end of the session, Sawyer hangs around the reception. She's carefully studying all the notices pinned to the corkboard. Natasha waits for a few minutes and follows her down.
They go to a nearby cafe, the sort with adult coloring books and organic ketchup. Sawyer waves Natasha's purse away. She looks beautiful waiting to order at the bar while Natasha guards their table. She's so tall and composed, blonde hair flowing down her back. She turns around and her eyes find Natasha's immediately.
Sawyer's playing with the stem of the wine glass when she says, "I was thinking about how we didn't sleep together the other night and I just thought that maybe it's a good idea for us to wait to do it until I get back from New York? I really want to, but I need to make sure it's right, and I think anticipation can be sexy sometimes. We could plan something really special!"
Natasha is once again taken aback by her honesty. She's shaved and moisturized and wearing her nicest panties, but she can cope with waiting. She can't think of anything to say so she just nods and bends and kisses Sawyer's other hand, where she's picking at the corner of the menu.
Sawyer tangles her hand in Natasha's when she pulls her head back, and they stay like that until it's time for Natasha to get the T back to Jamaica Plain. Sawyer walks her to the stop, and leans down and kisses her. It's firm and decisive and Natasha feels that she has to tug her hair a little to even the score.
On the subway Natasha counts the number of couples she sees. She decides that if it's an even number, maybe things will work out with Sawyer. If she sees an odd number, she might as well give up now. She sees 16, and when she gets in she looks at her phone and sees she already has a text from Sawyer.
Thank you again for tonight, I can't wait to see you in three weeks.
She's put a whole line of the heart wrapped in a ribbon emojis. Natasha sends back the Statue of Liberty, the comedy and tragedy masks and two of the flamenco girls.
The first two weeks go quickly. Natasha keeps to her usual routine. She successfully doesn't think about Sawyer until the 45 minutes between when Sawyer finishes work and when Sawyer has to go to bed. In that time, they text furiously and Natasha doesn't think about anything other than Sawyer.
One lunchtime, Sawyer texts and says she has an early finish. She asks Natasha if she'd like to video call on Skype. Natasha knows the implications of that, and she spends the rest of the afternoon clenching her thighs together.
When she gets home she curls her hair with her ancient straighteners, wears her favorite black mesh body suit, stockings, red nails and lipstick. As she gets ready she's texting Sawyer, they're getting all the chit-chat out of the way so they don't have to do it on camera. Natasha's stomach feels squirmy and hot as they text about Sawyer's disappointing lunch and the rented lights that haven't turned up yet. She settles her laptop on the coffee table and then curls herself into her deep tub chair, feeling like a cobra sitting on top of her coils.
Finally, the bleeping incoming call tone starts. Natasha accepts the call immediately. The camera on Sawyer's iPad is facing the big hotel bed. The quilted bed head is drab and brown. Sawyer has moved the two small lamps from the bedside table to the floor, and hung up some fairy lights from the insipid watercolor above the bed.
Natasha wants to tell Sawyer just how bad she thinks the painting is, but then her eyes focus on Sawyer herself and she falls into a reverent silence. Sawyer is sat on the bed in a pink robe, ruffles flowing around her wrists. The picture isn't great, but Natasha's fairly sure that Sawyer is looking at her just as hungrily. Natasha's not sure that she's ready to speak yet.
It looks like Sawyer has wrapped a Hitachi wand in a small hand-towel, and has propped it up on a pillow on the bed. Sawyer lays down on her side and trails her fingers down her waist and thigh. She slowly rolls over on to her front and pulls the robe off. Underneath, she's bare.
Natasha is struck dumb by the curve of her ass. Natasha wants to bite the soft flesh of her belly that she can
