Hi! Thanks for choosing to read my story, and I hope you enjoy it! Any feedback is welcome, I'm new at this I'm looking forward to learning and improving!
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My eyes opened to a pale glow through the nylon of the tent above me. My ears opened to the ocean's foamy symphony just a little further afield - endless waves of attack, sustain, decay, and release, crashing into itself, and beginning anew. My mouth opened to a kiss from my beloved, my angel, Tomoko. I was not always a poetic man, but there are moments that are poetry before even the first drop of ink falls onto the page. That place, that time, that moment, that was poetry. And if it wasn't, then to hell with the whole art form. We kissed slowly. No, not slowly. Patiently. She stroked my hair. I squeezed her torso. We melted into each other.
It was two days before that Tomoko and I had embarked on our epic quest. We had a full three days off together, something that - long story short - was incredibly hard for us to schedule. We painstakingly went over options for what we could do with that time. We didn't have cars. We didn't have much money. We listed our assets. We both had bicycles. We loved nature and the outdoors. We loved each other, even though we knew our relationship had a firm ending date. To me, there was only one journey that could tie all these elements together: by bus, ferry, and bicycle, traveling from Seattle's grimy hipster slums to the spectacular San Juan islands. We knew we had made the right choice when, shortly after arriving, we were lucky enough to see the local pod of orcas in the water, making their daily rounds. Magic was in the sea spray, as it were.
"You ready to get up?" She asked me in a soft, intimate voice. On a normal morning, it would have been unthinkable for us to rise at such an ungodly hour. But this was not a normal morning; our routines were back in the city and the wonders of nature swirled all around.
"Yeah, let's go."
I got out of my sleeping bag and unzipped the tent. We stepped out and the cold morning air, damp and heavy, stung my face. The sky was hidden behind a grey blanket of clouds. Our campsite was about a sixty-second walk from the beach, and as we walked through the patch of gnarled douglas firs, the path opened to reveal the surf that had sung so sweetly to me all night. I stared out at the endless grey water to the west, and another island to the north. I looked at Tomoko. I couldn't say which one was more beautiful. But I knew who I loved more.
Although my relationship with Tomoko was destined for heartbreak, I yearned to make this journey only the sweetest of memories. Tomoko would leave Seattle, maybe forever, eight months after this trip. She wanted - no, needed - to see Japan. To live there, work there, embed herself there. To reconnect with the neglected half of her identity. She had been born to a Japanese mother and an Irish-American father, but most of her life had been spent with her dad and in the decidedly un-Japanese environment that is small-town Indiana before fate drew her to Seattle. She was as granola as they come, even for the Northwest. She was just sour enough to highlight her sweetness, just moody enough to emphasize her positive intentions, and naughty enough to show off her nice side. I would miss her terribly some day, although that day was yet to arrive.
She felt as though she was caught beween two worlds, the United States and Japan, but she really only knew her American heritage. She was to go alone, and she was open with me about this. She had the date already planned, and she would not change her plans, even for love. I felt compelled to make her final American chapter her best yet.
We faced West. The sun was rising behind us, and behind the chronic Northwestern gray. We stood ankle deep in the surf, and embraced. We kissed for a long time. I reached into my pocket for a joint and a lighter. We smoked in the surf, and then the world truly woke up around us. We broke off our embrace, but kept holding hands.
"Feel like cooking?" I asked.
"No," Tomoko giggled at me. "But I'm hungry." I rolled my eyes and smiled back at her.
"Classic. Alright, let's get back to camp."
I cooked up some oatmeal and took out the apples and bananas we'd packed. A light, healthy breakfast. The campsite had the rather unfortunate name of Smallpox Bay, for unpleasant reasons that I won't recount here, but feel free to look it up. In spite of the grim name, the park was a gem of natural beauty. A family of deer, including a white-spotted fawn, walked through the clearing as we ate.
We finished breakfast and took out a map to plan the day's cycling route. We decided to visit Roche Harbor - I knew from a previous trip, years ago, of some very unique historical sites we could visit to complement the natural scenery. But before we could pack up and go, Tomoko wanted to talk to me about something.
"Babe..." she took my hand. She seemed nervous. "Can I ask you about something?"
"Anything. What's on your mind?"
"This trip has been really incredible. Like, even better than I thought it would be, and I was so excited for it, too." I didn't respond yet. I waited for her to go on. "I'm really grateful for you for putting the trip together and, like, coming up with the idea..."
I didn't know quite where she was headed with this. I just stared into her bottomless black eyes, bracing myself for bad news. But I needn't have.
"I really want to remember our time together when I go to Osaka. I don't want to forget these feelings. I'm gonna need them. I'm not going to know anyone in Osaka, and my Japanese is... well, not where it should be. It'll be lonely."
"Well, that's really sweet of you, babe. Means a lot to me." I said. And I meant it.
"Well..." Tomoko let go of my hand. She stopped looking at me, and faced straight forward. "How do you feel about making..." She trailed off. Whatever it was, she seemed to be having a lot of trouble saying it out loud.
"What, babe? I'll make anything I can for you, but you've got to tell me what it is, first." Tomoko grinned but didn't look back at me.
"How do you feel about making a tape?"
"A... tape?" No way, I thought. Surely she didn't mean...
" Ahhh... a... sexy tape. Sex tape. You know. You. Me. Sex. On tape." Such command of the English language.
Holy shit. "Are you sure?" I asked.
"I'm... very sure. Like... I think it'll be really fun. We can set the camera up in my bedroom and just... do our thing. And when I feel lonely next year, I'll queue it up. And I'll watch it, and I'll get horny, get myself off, and then ugly-cry for half an hour because I miss Seattle so much. I can't wait," She said, with a wistful smile.
I looked around at the beauty all around me as I considered this. I had a duty to this young woman. I had promised myself that I owed her every great memory I could provide, right? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I turned her down? They'd just replace the word "idiot" with my name in the dictionary. Oh, that's right... my name is Will. I suppose I should have let you in on that little secret earlier. It's nice to meet you. And now we ain't strangers no more, to borrow a phrase.
"Yeah. Let's do it. Let's make the best goddamn sex tape ever. All-in." I stared blissfully at her and she stared blissfully back at me. "Now let's fucking crank our way up to Roche Harbor so I can show you that Freemason Temple they've got up there and let's hope and pray we see those orcas again."
"Aaaahhhh!" Tomoko let out a happy squeal before wrapping her arms around me. "Let's fucking GO!"
* * *
We returned to Earth a few days later, diving headlong back into our ordinary jobs, but with our eyes still focused on Tomoko's "souvenir." The very next weekend, over drinks at our favorite local watering hole, I decide to talk in more detail about how we would go about the project. I had been thinking about the tape a lot, thinking about how to make it really sizzle, if you know what I mean.
"Hey babe, I have a question about the sexy tape." I worked hard to find the balance between speaking quietly enough to keep the talk private but loud enough she could hear me over the din of the bar.
"Sure. What's up? You're not chickening out, are you?" She took a sip of her whiskey and soda under the dim, yellow light.
"Oh...oh! God, no! No, I want to ask you - do you want to make, like... a sex tape... or a porno?"
"I... don't understand what you mean. What's the difference? Same thing, right?" I was honestly a little disappointed. I knew Tomoko liked watching porn. I figured she'd understand. Oh well. I began to explain.
"A sex tape is just a tape of us getting it on. A porno has at least some semblance of acting, writing, and a plot."
"Oh. Well... I mean, If that's the difference... I was actually just thinking sex tape, then."
"OK. Well then, what if I have an idea for a porno? A perfect porno for Will and Tomoko's relationship?" She leaned in.
"I am really fucking listening to you right now. Please continue," she said, playfully.
"We pretend to be strangers. Out on the bicycle path near your house. You have a flat tire, I fix it up for you, and you're grateful so you invite me in for... I don't know, a beer, or a joint, or something, and things... escalate from there. I mean that's not painting the picture with every single detail we'll need to think about, but I think it's a great starting point." Tomoko's eyes widened and her lips formed a smile.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. That is... that is it! Holy SHIT, that is IT!" she cried out. "I mean, but like... there's just one problem, though... I mean, someone will need to hold the camera, right? That means... someone's going to have to watch us screw. Like, not just watch. Get close and point a cmera all up in our business. Do you know anyone? I don't want just anyone holding a camera twelve inches away from my pussy."
I actually hadn't thought of that. My mind began to run through all of our acquaintances and friends, searching for someone both open-minded enough and trusted enough to fulfill this role. "I... Jesus Christ, I actually don't," I admitted.
