Clairvoyance

Ability to capture most impressive moments of your past lives can give you a great view on just how many ways there are to make love. Sticking to the same lover over the lifetimes, however, should make you feel nostalgic rather than audacious. Turned out, it’s the 21st century edition of Kama Sutra for Dummies that gets people back together, and probably saves marriages.

Initially, I came to Gabriel to relax, but thanks to some burst of creativity on his part, I was having a hard time relaxing. My legs were so in the air, and my head was spinning so much from looking at the chopper-like conditioner on the ceiling, that I was hit with nausea every time Gabriel attempted some clever maneuver with his body.

While I pondered if it was a good idea to use him as my own personal stress-reliever, Gabriel, looking completely oblivious to my musings, was busy leaving what was probably a world class hickey on my neck. With every brush of his body against mine, I could feel my senses tingling. I really wished I could focus on that sensation alone, but my brain just didn't want to let go of things.

Gabriel, on the other hand, considered sex with me a roller coaster experience. He knew I was strong and adventurous enough to try most of the things he offered, so he didn't waste his time on melancholic thoughts. Maybe it was one of the reasons I kept letting him practice his love skills on me whenever I felt bored. But I often wondered if, trying to re-impress me (and by re-impress I mean impress again, because he managed to do it quite a few times before), he was overworking it.

“God, I love what I’m doing to you,” he whispered.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Isn’t it ‘what you’re doing to me’?”

“Er… Yeah. That’s what I meant.” He smiled brightly before proceeding to nibble on whatever skin his mouth came in contact with.

So he wasn’t exactly a Michelangelo of words. But considering that it was me who kept coming back for some guilt-free pleasure time after time, I guess he wasn’t the one with the issues here. Besides, with looks like his…

Apparently I looked a little too thoughtful, because Gabriel eventually noticed my attention was elsewhere.

“What's on your mind, love?”

“Nothing,” I answered briskly.

I felt a little annoyed at his choice of a pet name, with my disastrous love life and all, but I’d known Gabriel long enough to realize that every woman ever hitting his mattress was a ‘love’ to him. And with as fucked up a financial plan as his, I wasn’t surprised it was a full motion waterbed mattress. Another reason to feel nauseous. Seriously, it’s like I was starring in a porn version of Pirates of the Caribbean. I almost wished I had a paper bag with me.

I thought it was time to take matters into my own hands. “Gabriel… On your back. Now”

“Huh? Wha…”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead I untangled myself from his weird Tantric embrace and, in a quick, smooth motion, flipped us over. As my vision aligned itself with gravity again, I was relieved to feel the blood stop washing away all my good brain cells. At least I hoped that's what I felt.

“Now, that’s much better.” I smiled, happy to finally let my hands explore Gabriel’s chest freely. As I was raking my nails over it softly, I noticed something shift within my line of vision. I looked up, and for a moment everything seemed normal.

I took a deep breath, returning my attention to the man between my thighs. Nothing’s happening, I told myself. I can go right back to relaxing. I brushed my long hair away from my face and took Gabriel’s hands into mine, guiding them to slide over my neck and chest, finally resting them on my breasts.

He was saying something, but I couldn’t make out the words, as if I was underwater. The world around me started to shimmer and shift into something entirely different. Gabriel’s face melted away, along with the rest of him. In a blink, I was no longer straddling him, but instead lay sprawled on a wet pavement, position awkward and uncomfortable.

Here we go again.

I looked around, trying to quickly assess the situation, as I always did when a vision hit me. The street around me was wet as if it has been raining. I looked up at the sky, and even though it wasn’t completely dark yet, it seemed the sun would set in half an hour or so.

Further ahead of me, I could see a car turned over and on fire. Oh, hell! It was my car. Danny was laying on the ground a few feet away from it. He was trying to put out a small fire on the sleeve of his brown leather jacket. His favorite. Ouch.

I finally decided to pay attention to my own persona and for the first time noticed my disheveled state. The wicked tight jeans I was in were slashed at one knee, the spot looked bloody. I had a few cuts on my hands, and it felt like a lot of me was bruised.

With some effort, I managed to get myself into a half-sitting position, my body buzzing from the aftershocks of something fairly similar to a hard fall. Supporting myself on my hands, I tried to sit upright. The world started spinning around me, apparently insisting I stay down. It was almost pretty, really. Like I was on a carousel or something. Too bad everything was in a sort of blur, so my ability to enjoy the ride was limited.

I heard the shouting on my right and turned my head to see Eric, looking royally pissed off, scream something in the direction of a man heading to a black BMW. When I was able to make out who it was, I instantly understood what got Eric so fired up.

Adrian, wearing one of his usual black suits, and an equally usual neutral look on his face, was about to get into the car. Before he did, he turned to look at me, expression turning almost regretful. For a split second I wondered if he cared for what I thought of him at that moment. He shut the door behind him and, in a flash, his car was gone. Nah.

“Are you happy now?”

I looked up to see Eric towering over me. His face was so angry and disappointed, I instantly got a dreadful feeling that this time it was something I did.

“Is this what you wanted?” he demanded.

I didn't know why, but I felt ashamed. Like I deserved that blame in his voice. I shut my eyes, afraid I might actually show some emotion for once and cry in front of him like some little girl.

“No,” I answered, feeling sick. "It's not."

The picture changed again.

Gone were the wet pavement and the pretty bonfire a.k.a. my-car-used-to-be. I had no bruises. I was right back where I left off - in my ex’s apartment. On top of him, actually. Everything was all right.

Only it wasn't.

I sighed. For the second time this night, I wished I had a paper bag with me.