amal

Almalgamation

You smile at the absurdity of your dream, and at the same time you feel that in the intermingling of those absurdities some idea lies hidden, but an idea that is real, something belonging to your true life, something that exists and has always existed in your heart; it is as though something new and prophetic, something you have been expecting, has been told to you in your dream.
-- Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot

A warm and tranquil midsummer night casts its spell upon Sunnydale Beach. Stars twinkle mischievously from within a midnight blue canvas. Painted in the center of this canvas, like a giant snowball frozen in time and space, is a perfectly round moon. Its white glow penetrates the darkness and bathes everything in its radiant luminescence. Each fine grain of sand and gently lapping wave below is alive with a glittering sheen, as if speckles of fairy dust have been scattered upon them. To the left of this enchanted shoreline is a wide expanse of trees, the leaves of which are stirred to life by the caress of the faint breeze.

Two giant rocks stand between the trees and the shoreline. Amid these rocks lurk two figures in motion. The ever-shifting movements of these figures trick the eye of the on-looker, making them appear as if one unified entity rather than two separate - and unclothed - female bodies.

The young woman on top is boyishly slender, with wavy auburn tresses that just barely reach her shoulders. A muffled sound emanates from her -- a cross between a lighthearted giggle and a soft moan. As she lifts her head up for a moment, panting heavily, her small breasts peek out like the eyes of a Peeping Tom. Dew trickles down them enticingly. Her wet lips form a playful smile as she gazes lovingly at the young woman lying underneath her. The red head outstretches her right arm and tenderly glides her hand alongside her lover's visage. There is a fire burning within the red head's emerald eyes -- an intense, almost primal, desire. Even the soft tears that formulate within her green orbs do not extinguish their dazzling fire.

The second young woman is broader and more curvaceous than the red head. Some of her long and dampened blonde mane has been brushed aside to rest above her full and moist bosom. Her golden locks mirror the brilliance of a hot July sun. As she struggles to catch her breath, the blonde's pale blue eyes flutter like butterfly wings. She gazes up into her lover's mesmerizing green orbs. As if they transmit a secret message, a message that compels her to respond, the blonde extends her hands upward and stops a tear that is making its way down the red head's face. Tears now begin to well within the blonde's own eyes. The message found in the red head's orbs has touched this young woman profoundly and she desperately tries to convey a message of her own. However, the blonde stumbles and all she manages to utter is a name - the signifier for the one thing in the entire universe that matters to her at this moment.

"W-willow...."

"Tara..." whispers the red head. She utters the name "Tara" with reverence, as if it belongs to a goddess.

"I...I love you."

Willow tenderly places her right index finger upon Tara's lips and traces their fullness. She smiles and replies, "And I love you."

This young woman is absolutely beautiful, Willow thinks to herself, perhaps the most beautiful thing she has ever known. And she is right there in her arms, her soft skin touching her own, her scent permeating her nostrils, her entire being open to -- and only for -- Willow.

Though both women are overwhelmed with emotions beyond words, they are able to clearly articulate those emotions through each other's eyes, hands and mouths.

Body language. It is a powerful conduit. Sometimes it expresses more than words ever can. Sometimes it is more intimate than conversation. Tongues do not communicate solely through speech.

Willow brings her face closer to Tara's, smiling a sultry Willowgrin. The lovers' lips meet again, as do their tongues. An electrifying shock travels throughout Tara's body, forcing it to quiver underneath Willow's. Sensing this motion, the red head pulls away gently and glides her lips down the slope of Tara's neck and shoulders, nestling them with her tongue. The blonde closes her eyes and throws her head back, relishing the exquisite feel of Willow savoring her body. The red head softly brings her lips to the blonde's bosom-hills and suckles them once again. Tara lets out a series of soft moans before she reciprocates Willow's actions. Groaning becomes the only sound either young woman can vocalize.

Now ruled by lust, the two lovers bring a hand to each other's nether realm in perfect synchronicity. As they do so, their bodies begin to move together in a pulsating and rhythmic motion. Their breathing grows more rapid and their mouths search each other with a frantic and aching hunger. When time and space seems to have ceased, and Willow and Tara feel as though their entire beings are liquefying, amalgamating with one another, they simultaneously ride the waves of ultimate ecstasy and abandon. Their harmonious cries reverberate across the shore.

***

Once they have finished basking in the afterglow, Willow and Tara slowly open their eyes. They stare at each other for what seems an eternity -- not with affection, but in utter bewilderment.

"Oh ... my.... god!" Willow exclaims before she bellows out a blood-curdling and ear-piercing scream. She lies wide-eyed and with a gaping mouth, aghast because the person at whom she gawks is none other than herself!

As she violently pushes her own body away from herself, Willow desperately yells, "Taaaar-aaaaa!!!!! Oh god, Tara, where are you?"

"W-willow! WILLOW! I'm here. I'm right here," Tara's frantic voice calls out from within the red head. Willow looks at herself, completely dumbfounded.

"Tara? Tara, honey, is that you in there?"

The red head nods her head in the affirmative. Willow pauses. She looks down and runs her hands along the body in which she now finds herself, along the full bosom, down further, recognizing instantly the soft and silky feel of the skin ... Tara. Willow reaches for the long strands of hair that hang at the bosom and pulls them forward to get a better view. They are Tara's golden locks.

"Tara? What's going on?"

"I ... I don't know. It seems as though w-we ... like o-our bodies got s-switched somehow."

"But how?" inquires Willow nervously.

Tara glances shrewdly at her lover. Willow reacts with utter disbelief.

"Oh ... OH! Oh, no! It couldn't have been because of that! This is ... this is just too weird. No, no, no. No! It's gotta be because of something else. Was it Robin Goodfellow? I bet it was Robin Goodfellow. He's a sneaky faery, you know. I betcha he's hiding in the trees over there right now. Are there any elder trees there? He probably snuck up on us when we, you know, and ... "

Tara lets a tiny chuckle. "Hold on there, Sweetie. Robin Goodfellow? Isn't that an English folktale?"

"Yeah, but you never know. He could be here. He ... "

"Sweetie, you're so adorable when you're nervous," Tara interjects.

"I am?" asks Willow.

"Um-hmn," replies Tara as she inches closer to hug her lover. Willow pulls away, uncomfortable with the idea of getting intimate with her own body, even if it is Tara who now dwells inside of it. Tara senses Willow's uneasiness and backs away.

"S-sorry."

"No, no. It's okay, Tara. It's not your fault. I mean ... I know it's you in there. It just seems ... weird ... you know ... hugging you but hugging myself at the same time." She pauses for a moment and then continues, "But it is kind of ... you know ... invigorating."

"What is?" inquires Tara.

"Being inside of you like this, Tara. Feeling what it's like to be you, physically anyway. I feel like, I don't know, like I'm really one with you. Like there you are inside of me and I'm right here inside of you. We're both inside of each other in this yin and yang, Zen kind of way and okay, I'm babbling, but is what I'm saying making any sense at all?"

Tara slowly nods in agreement and inches closer. "Yes. It's exactly how I f-feel."

Willow smiles. "So what should we do? How do we, you know, switch back? Should we get the gang? No, no. Bad idea. It's too embarrassing. Maybe we should tackle it on our own. You know, find out what caused this ... I mean, aside from the fact that we were engaging in some pretty intense activity. What do you think?"

Tara looks about them and at the rocks between which they stand. "I'm not exactly sure. M-maybe these rocks have something to do with it. Maybe they hold some sort of mystical energy."

"Is there a way to tell?" asked Willow.

"Well, I know how to sense auric vibrations," replies Tara.

Willow winks and wryly retorts, "Oh, like mine!"

Tara smiles and reaches for Willow's hand. However, Willow continues to shy away from contact. Tara frowns, checks herself, and reaches out to one of the rocks instead. She glides her hands along its surface, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought.

"Any luck?" Willow asks with hope.

Tara's eyebrows furrow as she responds, "Well, I do feel a strong energy field. And it looks like these rocks are made of some kind of rutilated quartz."

"But isn't rutilated quartz used for astral travel? We weren't doing anything like that. I mean, we were oblivious to what was going on around us and we had this intense connection thingy going on and ..."

"That's it!" exclaims Tara in a sudden moment of epiphany.

"What's it, baby? The oblivious thingy? See, I knew it was a faery! Probably put some flower-juice on our eyelids when we weren't even looking ... "

"No, the intense connection thing. Willow, w-when we were making love, I felt this powerful union with you, more than I ever had before ... and then, w-when we cl-climaxed, it felt like my whole being was flowing into yours and vice versa."

Willow smiles warmly and whispers, "I felt it too. It was so beautiful."

Willow then wears a look of perplexity. "But I don't get it, Tara. It's not like we haven't experienced that before. What's so different about tonight?"

Tara's auburn eyebrows furrow once again as she anxiously looks about the beach. Her emerald eyes travel upward to the alluring night sky, then back to the rutilated quartz rocks between which they stand. She suddenly notices the two rays of moonlight that shine down upon the rocks in a conspicuous manner.

"Oh my Goddess, Willow! Look!"

"What?" The now blonde-haired witch looks about her and Tara, seeing the two rays mysteriously beaming upon them like the flashlight of a security guard catching a culprit in misdeed.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "Now, I'd say that's pretty weird. But then, it's not like this isn't any weirder! "

Tara frowns. Willow, growing alarmed, inquires, "What? What is it, baby?"

Tara takes a deep breath and attempts to explicate the theory that has just formulated in her mind. "Willow, tonight is Summer Solstice w-with a full moon in Gemini. And rutilated quartz not only aids in astral projection, but � well, it's also known to connect two people cosmically. Mix that with our intense energy and ... Willow, I think all of this concentrated energy flowing at the same time m-must have created something like a power surge within the universe, one that caused our astral bodies to shift physical bodies. What's more is that in order to reverse the process, I think we ... w-we ... have to do w-what caused the switch in the first place."

A sudden sinking sensation possesses Willow. She shudders and slowly steps backward, appalled. "But ... but, Tara, that means we ... that I have to ... oh God, no, Tara! That means I have to make love to myself!"

With complete magnanimity, Tara rushes to placate Willow. She looks beseechingly into Willow's eyes, eyes that are her own, yet within which dwell the soul of her lover. Willow, on the other hand, quivers because it is her own arms that hold her gently and lovingly, her own hand caressing her face, and her own eyes that look at her with intensity. Tara attempts to soothe Willow's anxiety and fear.

"Sweetie, I know this is a hard thing to do. But it's still me. You'd still be making love to me."

Willow shakes violently with sobs, tears streaming from her pale blue eyes as she desperately pleads, "Can't we find another way, Tara? This ... I just can't this do. I can't. Please don't ask me to, Tara. Please ..." Willow buries her head in her hands.

Tara stands dejectedly by Willow's side, feeling a burgeoning sense of shame at having distressed her lover. Even though she knows Willow will only cringe at her touch, Tara wants nothing more than to reach out to her, to console her and ease her fears.

Tara fully understands the autoerotic implications of what they must do to reverse the switch. And though it is a little unsettling, she isn't entirely troubled by the idea. After all, it is not as if Tara has never practiced self-love. In secret, she has found it to be a beautiful and profoundly moving experience, enabling her to integrate her mind, body and spirit while discovering and bursting forth with complete love for the mysteries of herself and of the universe. But poor Willow. She seemed so afraid to love herself, and not just physically.

Tara reticently creeps up behind Willow. She wraps her arms around the quivering young woman and cradles her as a mother would a distressed child. To Tara's surprise, Willow does not turn away or cringe at her touch. Instead Willow entwines her arms with Tara's, imagining them as a warm protective blanket. Tara tries once again to reassure her girlfriend.

"Willow, honey. Please trust me on this. If I knew a different way..."

Willow slowly turns around and peers into her own emerald eyes intensely. As she does so, she grows transfixed by their radiance. This transfixion emerges out of Willow's recognition of two phenomena within her own green orbs -- the light of Tara's essence and, on a much deeper level, Willow's own essence. As Willow turns her gaze downward, slowly glossing over her own body, she remains awe-struck. It is as if she is discovering the intrinsic beauty of her self for the very first time. Willow then inches closer to her own body and to her lover who now dwells within it.

"Tara..." she whispers.

"What, darling?" Tara whispers back softly.

"I trust you. I'm okay, if you're okay."

"A-are you s-sure?" Tara inquires with concern.

Willow smiles. "Yes, my love. I'm very sure."

Tara cups her own visage - Willow's at the moment - and draws it closer. Both young women stare into each other's eyes - each pair being Willow or Tara's very own - and tenderly glide their hands alongside each other's face. They smile warmly at each other before their lips meet and the ritual of lovemaking commences again with double the intensity it previously held.

Willow and Tara delight in their own bodies. With each caress and kiss that each young woman places upon her self, she experiences the wonder and total bliss of her self. As she reaches deep down into the core of her womanhood, she reaches into the expansive universe that is her being and essence. When Willow and Tara simultaneously ride upon the waves of synchronized external and internal climax, each young woman explodes with an overwhelming abundance of love for her own self, for her lover, for the earth, and for the universe. Each feels an inexplicable oneness with the entire cosmos and the divine, the point of origin. Each feels her being liquefying into the other, in a much more powerful way than earlier that same night.

***

As Willow and Tara open their eyes slowly, basking in the afterglow of their mystical experience, they realize that they have returned home to each other's proper body.

They remain silent. There are no words with which to describe this night. In fact, it seems dream-like; something that neither can begin to articulate lucidly, despite the clarity the night's occurrence has brought them. The two young women just lay there, arms wrapped around each other, giggling. A mischievous, triumphant sort of giggling - the laughter one emits when one feels total bliss at having uncovered and delved into a mystery.

Minutes later Willow is the first to speak.

"Tara ... thank you."

"For what, darling?"

"Your love, Tara, you. You set me free ... in a way I can't even begin to describe. All I know is that in my love for you and your love for me, I found and learned to love myself. It's like, all my life I've lived inside this body without really taking the time to get to know it or love it. Now I see I am just as much my body as I am, say, my mind or heart or spirit. I'm like this integrated person and each of these four aspects of myself is me. And the same is true for you. You're beautiful and wonderful and I'm beautiful and wonderful. And I'm a part of you and you're a part of me and we're a part of something so much greater and ... Oh, Tara! I can't tell you what that means to me, what you mean to me."

Waterworks now begin to flow. Tara cups Willow's face and places tiny butterfly kisses upon her eyes, tenderly wiping the red head's tears away with her lips. Willow smiles and does the same for Tara, whose tears begin to make their journey down each of her cheeks. The blonde then smiles and says, "You don't have to tell me, Willow. I know and feel exactly how you do."

Willow, sniffling, hugs Tara tightly and exclaims, "I love you so much, Tara!"

"And I love you, Willow."

The young women continue embracing each other and slowly drift off to peaceful slumber. Robin Goodfellow, hovering above in a nearby willow tree, looks down upon Willow and Tara and giggles before he turns and disappears into the night.