Joe Cocker’s A Little Help From my Friends was playing when the other couple, your husband and my wife, left the room. We kept on dancing hardly daring to believe that it was finally happening. We had waited so long for this moment. I remember you were wearing a white cheesecloth blouse through which the tips of your breasts showed darkly. I was a crap dancer, but when the backs of my hands brushed against your nipples, you understood that this was no accident. With each contact your nostrils flared and my cheeks received the gift of a little blast of air from them, like the sweet warm breath of a pony.

I drew you into an armchair where, as far as our clothing would allow, we kissed and fondled each other. At last I asked: why don’t you take off your clothes?  Without a trace of shyness you undressed. so frank in your nakedness I might have been your husband rather than a first time lover. And I looked at you and wondered that you could be so radiantly, so brazenly, naked and still seem so touchingly innocent. When at last I found my voice  it was like uttering a prayer- a thanksgiving. My God, I said, but you are lovely.

I pulled you onto my lap and we kissed deeply while I explored your body more thoroughly. Our dance had prepared you well. You were wet and ready to be entered.  But there was no way I was going to rush this. I intended to savour every minute of it.