Loving the Amazon
by
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She was liquid. I was aghast, fascinated. And my heart, for the first time in my life, opened. All her pools of flowing succulence flowed on and I was filled with her – in love. This was like a dream but powered by the tactile fact of her. We washed each other in the shower frequently, most often at her place because it was more sanitary. The trendy brass pipes clung to the white tiled wall, the sound of ‘clean’ piping up from below. The overhead light device would always be switched to ‘heat’, such that our bodies took on the golden hue of Japanese eroticism. Our eyes held close to the other’s, watching, not in malice, for in the sanctity of a lock-bolted bathroom, she felt safe to trust me, no other eyes about, a little slice of heaven, which flowed out, she was convinced, like the water under our feet to the expanses of nothingness below. The place she loathed. I would drag myself around her yuppie home and hold her gently crying, suddenly frail form as she grieved for the estrangement of her mother. Here in the shower of her plush house, interspersed with knocks of impatience from her designer house-mates, she hung onto the brass pipes – tears flowing, but drowned under the waters of cleansing, aching for her parents – she cried like a newborn kitten always theatrical, always utterly appealing. I cried silently for strength and honesty lost, she for the estrangement of her own family. And weeping, clinging to the pipes, our legs set apart for the other to soap around, slipping toe-hold over heel, steadily further apart, we’d slip our delicate paper-wet fingers lithely around breasts and testicles, faces and arses, melting away in the perfection of soap-sluiced cleanliness. Water pummelling down the drain, her mock-saddened face pressing up against my chest. She’d cry and salvage her declining sense of want around my biceps, under arm where subtle, harassed hairs shied lightly away for fear. I would slip my fingers into her pussy and kiss her, swallowing water and tears and my wish to make it all right for her again. The very tiles could threaten her: at any moment she might realise that their sheen fell away revealing hell looking up at her, whereupon she might push me down into it, making a sacrifice of my stupidity. But on we would wash, till the soap dwindled to a sliver, until our prunish hands ran coarse over backsides and pussy flesh, till the footfalls and tap-tap-tappings of housemates grew beyond impatient outside the bathroom door. But we were consumed. Arms raised above our heads in the trickle-rush of water, the hot tap turned progressively up to thrash it and we’d conjoin together, forcing the river-flow to re-route around us as a single object, now and then sneaking back in, as I lifted my chest to push up under her un-aging breasts, our nipples coming back together like Aboriginal schemata. My groin rocked back momentarily to replace the newer size of my lazy cock up against her tanned hairless belly – a tan that would sometimes wash off. I could watch back, over the perfectly kissable mound of her arse, as her fake tan spiralled down the drain, another gift of hers to hell.
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About the Book
While making love, twenty-two year old Andy Greenwood falls head-over-heels in love with Melissa, nineteen year old, working-class, single mother. Melissa and Andy are quite simply perfect for each other: young, sensual, deeply connected and hell-bent on erotic union. Their love is frantic and rich and borders on a beautiful perversion. But persistent memories of childhood fracture the bond between Melissa and Andy causing Andy to sacrifice their profound love and travel overseas… only to find himself inveigled in sexual obsession with Polish schizophrenic, Berenice––who turns out to be smarter, crazier and far more dangerous than Andy. The damage performed under her sexual hegemony is as weird as it is powerful... but the sex is mind-blowing. Eventually Andy finds himself morally disintegrating: his sanity unhinging, his sense of self plummeting into sexual oblivion. They fuck, they bite and scratch, they play demoralising mind-games and then, out of the blue, a phone call from Melissa demonstrates just how low he has sunk. From the centre of this moral abyss, his heart breaks… After ten years estrangement, Andy and Melissa’s reconciliation is divinely erotic. They find peace and love in their resilient sexual union, but Andy still inhabits a moral void. Will he resolve his resurfacing past? Will their inimitable love stand the test of time? * In this heartfelt, male answer to 50 Shades of Grey, Loving the Amazon delivers a sexual odyssey in erotic, moving and sometimes confronting detail. Written with complete sensual honesty, the novel awakens the very soul of sex itself: a celebration and a warning to the pornifications of the twenty first century. According to John Truby, Loving the Amazon is a 'rare combination of raw and poetic that makes all other love stories seem fake'. The novel contains powerful sex scenes and intensely beautiful sentences capturing the joy, the pleasure and the ‘otherness’ of erotic congress. The novel’s authenticity as lived encounter demonstrates that surviving abuse in parallel to erotic overvaluation challenges the ‘sexual orthodoxy’ of male-centric eroticism. In Loving the Amazon, the ‘male-spectator-owner’ is not merely the protagonist, but a force barely contained in its own questioning. Recalling L’Ecole des Filles (1655) where the sexes becoming one is the highest attainment of erotica, Loving the Amazon is a must read.
About the Author
John Andrew Donix grew up in South Australia where he studied literature at The University of Adelaide and drama at Flinders University before embarking upon a rewarding career in film, television and theatre. He subsequently toured Australia and Asia professionally as a performer of musical theatre. Donix completed his PhD through the prestigious Victorian College of the Arts at The University of Melbourne where he also developed a taste for visual storytelling. His short stories and papers have been published in Australia and USA. Donix strives to empower people whose lives are affected by abuse––always focussing on empowerment, beauty and desire beyond the scarifications of childhood. John currently lives in Spain with his cherished family.