Dancing at the cellar, bumping and grinding for Miss D., the usual night's fun...
..then one more stop off as we leave with a friend.
..and in an impossibly short time...a stained mattress on a stage, and a circle of faces watching as we strain and cry, harsh lights on our bodies...
...intimacy as a performance art, sharing the touches and words so familiar to us...
...and because my angel is in my arms.....divine.
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Dear Jilly,
Being lost in lovemaking with you excludes everything around me...I could be in the middle of the pitch at a celtic game and not care that 50,000 were cheering us on....smiles...but you knew that didn't you.
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