You flip the shiny gold coin in the air and quickly close your hand. Nails as smooth as pearls. Eyes bright and beaming in excitement. “Heads, we go West. Tails, we go South.” I raise my brow and grin. Your lips press mine as they part. Your hand opens slowly, revealing the underside of the coin. “I guess we’re going down,” I whisper. “Yes, we are,” you whisper back with a sexy smile. I see your eyes dance. Your eyebrows curl like a savant, making one wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. When you press your lips like this, there’s no telling what you’re thinking. But I suspect I’m in for a wild ride. You take my hand and lead me to the passenger side of the car. Your sly fingers sneak a press over my breasts, then down my waist as I enter. My chest twinges in excitement watching you strut to the driver’s side. The swing in your hips conveys that type of confidence most women work their whole lives to have. But not you. You were born this way. A natural cat. The engine rumbles and we go on our way. We have no map. No navigation system. No phones. We are on an unplugged journey with just fate and common sense as our guide. The old fashioned way of travel I have not experienced since I was a younger woman. Your spontaneity is one of the many things I love about you. Even with such reckless abandon, I feel safe. Untouchable and intangible. Free in every sense of the word. We drive for hours down a long stretch of highway. The previous bright sun is nearing time to set. Your beautiful skin now glowing in the subtle crimson light. Up ahead in the distance, I see a lush field. Wild horses fly across the pastor like dark angels. The distant trees look painted beneath the bed of stars that slowly form above. You stop the car in the middle of the wide open space and push a button to open the sunroof, letting in a heavenly breeze. We both kick off our shoes and raise them on the dashboard. “What a beautiful night,” you sigh. “Not as beautiful as you,” I whisper back. I hear the leather crumple under you as you scoot closer. You place your hand on my thigh and the gentle glide stills my thoughts. Fingers walking over flesh. Stirring heat within. The whistling wind sings for us in a soft rustling brigade. Just then, a bright spectacle of shooting stars distracts us. We open the car door and climb on top of the hood. Then, lie back to look up at the night sky. The sparkles are overwhelming. The beauty and mystique is like a dream. The moon sits behind a cloud to let the stars dance affront center stage. The play is spectacular. Moving and true. Our senses high, marveling a display of cascading diamonds. When…