Sidney's in Marfa

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It was dark by the time Jean had pulled in to the driveway of their Marfa hotel. Even in the black of a desert night, she could tell that this hotel was straight out of the 1950s. The Thunderbird hotel was a small grey two storey building; the rooms each had their own little veranda with a chair out front. There was a slightly wonky neon sign on the roof of the hotel which looked almost embarrassed to be welcoming them. Jean wondered briefly about the many personal dramas that must have played out in this place down through the years – she couldn't help but think now about her own personal drama and how that would be playing out in the coming weeks.

The air was hot and filled with the sound of cicadas from the nearby Acacia tree. Jean could taste the desert sand on her lips – she needed a drink. Sidney was still asleep in the front of the car. Jean decided not to wake her until she had checked them both in. As Jean walked towards the hotel reception she heard the sound of two women laughing – there was something about the way in which they laughed, the intimacy of it, the joy in it that brought her back to that moment in the back room of the Rabbit Hole when Sidney had first mentioned Marfa as the place they could escape to. How giddy they had been when they had spoken of it. She had been Diane then.

Jean marvelled at the way in which Sidney had taken it all in her stride. "I knew you had been lying" she had said "I sort of knew you were married (the good ones always are) but there was something else, something dangerous that was making you do the things you do. I could tell you were running away Jean and that's the bit that intrigues me, that's the thing I really want to know – what the hell are you running away from?" That conversation had taken place at Dolly's school when Sidney had turned up out of the blue during her speech on bullying. Jean remembered the gaze they had shared at the end of her speech, the look in Sidney's eyes had told her that this relationship was far from over, in fact in the most important ways, it was only just beginning.

Jean got the key from the world weary receptionist; she had felt that the woman had seen through her, had known that Diane Hart wasn't for real. Or was it just that the people who passed through this place were never quite what they seemed or who they said they were – ghostly figures floating in the desert for a day or two.

Jean smiled as she approached Mildrid the Mustang - Sidney was still asleep. Jean lent over and gave the sleeping Sidney a long, luxurious kiss to wake her up. These were the moments Jean loved best - kissing Sidney awake was a joy she felt she would never tire of. Waiting for those sultry eyes to open and that spectacular moment when the kiss would be returned and God how it would be returned! Jean thought that just kissing Sidney was better than sex with anyone else. As with all great artists, Sidney took her time, using those lips of hers like a Maestra slowly and sensuously bringing you to the point of ecstasy. Lesser mortals use kissing as a means to an end – not Sidney. Kissing Sidney was a destination in itself, one where you became completely and irrevocably lost in her.

"You're coming with me, I have plans for us tonight" Jean said in a deep and husky voice as she took Sidney by the hand and led her from the car to their hotel room. As they entered the room, Jean glanced down and saw the grip of a hand gun showing slightly from Sidney's bag. She winced at the sight of it. She had seen this gun before. She was at the point of asking about it when she felt the hot breath of Sidney's kisses on her neck and then everything was instantaneously forgotten.

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