THE HIGH TABLE

A CHOREGRAPHY OF PAIN

CHAPTER ONE

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

"Really? Oh wow...." I curse mentally, but make sure not to say it out loud. "Alright, Matthew. Get well soon. Of course... I know... The main thing is that you take care of yourself right now. We'll... figure something out." I hang up the phone and exhale loudly. This was my lead dancer letting me know that he sprained an ankle and can't perform tonight. I lead a small contemporary dancing troupe at the university campus, and finding male dancers is... difficult to say the least. Because of this, we do not really have an understudy for Matthew and the show is starting in two hours. There's no sense in even trying to find a replacement at such short notice. Of course, I knew such a thing could theoretically happen, but with a modest budget and next to non-existent interest on the part of male students, it was a risk I just had to take.

As the dancers round up for the final rehearsal before the show, I tell them the news. Matthew is injured and I will take his place. A few curious looks and giggles, but nothing major. I am only a few years older than these students, so I won't stand out from them. At least not visually... Today's show is a controversial one. We will be telling a story of a polyamorous bisexual romance through contemporary dance... there will be a lot of male-female, but also male-male and female-female interaction... Of course... nothing scandalous or inappropriate. But even mildly suggestive as it is, it took forever to get this approved with the board. I give out the last final instructions, until it's time to start getting dressed... My costume is a tight little black number that contrasts with my pale skin and platinum blond hair. I find myself feeling a bit nervous. The dean and some of the teaching staff will be in the audience today... I'm not sure if I want them to see me basically half-naked.... But... as they say... the show must go on.

The lights dim and the music starts, and I watch from the sidelines, waiting for my cue, and simultaneously keeping track of everyone's form. I nod, pleased with myself. My troupe is well trained and well rehearsed and they all move as one with the music. Taking the stage, I let the music guide me, ebbing and flowing with it, as I'm illuminated by the spotlight.

Ayindei

It's starting to piss me off... It's been three days since I arrived and it's just raining... I know it's the opportunity of a lifetime... but I miss the beaches of Jamaica... I need the sun... I need warmth on my skin.... Ever since I got off the plane, all I can smell is humidity... Go Ayindei! Be positive! It's only a few months since you were awarded the Chair of Modern History at the University of Jamaica, and already I've been offered a lectureship at this prestigious Old World university.

When I met with the dean to present my course syllabus, I saw in his eyes the reaction I've seen a thousand times before in all the interviews I've had since defending my PhD. My physique doesn't really match that of an academic. My long hair with dreads locks, my physique more like that of a bodybuilder than a bookworm... Nothing goes... But I think it's something I can handle, and I think I managed to convince him that he hadn't made a bad choice in asking me to come and do a semester's course. Everything's all set, by the way... A course on the British presence in America for first-year students, a course on the Westernization of the Caribbean for second-year students and, finally, a seminar on Indigenous Caribbean societies in the 17th century for the most advanced students.

I can see the smile lighting up the dean's eyes, and I'm glad I've managed to show him that I'm not just an idiot with a good body. I know I'm going to have to be on my guard.... too many things about me don't fit in with my position... my passion for combat sports (I love spending time in the cage, almost as much as in the archives), the way I live my sexuality without any taboos... But I've decided to be cautious, and I figure the people of this Old World are probably less open than my pals on Treasure Beach. In any case, tonight I've booked a place at an underground venue offering a pretty brutal fight... While the dean is talking to me, I'm mainly thinking about the evening's menu... Then he suggests I attend the dance show organized by the university students.... I'm speechless, unsure of how to respond.... A ballet... Just my luck... I hate dancing... But clearly I can't refuse... Especially if I say I have to go to violent fights where the losers are usually screwed by the winners. I smile as I accept the offer....

Back in my lodgings, I put on a suit to show that I'm honored by this invitation and head for the university theater. I'm immediately seduced and impressed. The university here doesn't have the same resources as back home... Clearly... The students are magnificent, the auditorium incredibly beautiful. As I sit next to the dean and other faculty members, I feel as if I'm actually in a theater. The auditorium fades to black and the spotlights illuminate the stage as I see a dancer begin to move. I know nothing about dance, but at first I'm stunned by the beauty of his body and his agility.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

As the spotlight shines on the stage and all the other lights are off, I cannot see you in the audience, which is good for me, as I'd likely be distracted if I noticed you watching me. At the end of the show, I am glistening with sweat, my hair clinging onto my wet forehead. Damn... I keep myself in shape, but it's been a while since I had to do a full 45 minute performance. My chest rising and falling as I breathe heavily; I return to the top of the stage as the applause sounds out to give one final bow to the audience. With the house lights now turned up a little, I notice you in the front row... A tall imposing figure, legs stretching far out in front of the seat, shoulders visible above people both on your left and right, your tight muscles barely contained by your suit. Wow... who is this?, I wonder, my curiosity peaked. I look up and my eyes meet yours. Handsome too.... I notice, as my lips broaden into a smile. Calm down, Lloyd, you'll probably never see this guy again in your life, and he's likely not into guys anyway.... I tell myself, as the applause dies down and I make my way backstage with all the other dancers.

"Alright, great job, everyone! I am very proud of you! Take some well needed rest and I'll see you all on Monday!" As a choreographer, it would not be appropriate for me to change in the same changing room as the students. We're casual with each other, but I do not want or need anyone of them seeing me naked or just in my underwear. Using a towel to dry off the sweat, I quickly slip on a coat and a pair of shoes and decide to make my way to my small studio apartment that's on the other side of campus and shower there.

Ayindei

I don't understand what's happening to me during this show. Ever since that guy walked on stage, I can't take my eyes off him. His outfit allows me to see every detail of his anatomy, even the most intimate. I'm usually attracted to guys like me... But here... it's weird, this inability to see anyone but him on stage. I'm so ready... I can see the sweat running down his face. I can see the perspiration covering his body, allowing me to admire your musculature. I never realized how beautiful a dancer's body could be. At the end of the show, I see you, panting, your abdomen rising and falling, and I know that these images will remain engraved in my memory.... even though I'll probably never see you again... even though... I have to stop myself from standing up during the applause, but I'm really excited by this show... or maybe by you... I know you haven't seen me... I know there's little chance we'll meet again and little chance you'll be gay. I don't understand what it is about you that makes me so obsessed... I think I know your eyes; I think I know your facial features... I think I'll want to support you after this incredible effort you've made.

As we stood up, the dean came up to me and said, “The entire faculty owes it to its students and the choreographer to congratulate them. You are now one of the university's professors”... I feel my heart palpitating... I'm hot all of a sudden, I'm very hot.... I think I'm going to panic if I see you... I don't know what I'm going to say if I talk to you... We approach the dressing rooms and start shaking hands... Every time a student approaches us; I try not to show the fear I have of meeting your eyes. But you're not there... I'm almost relieved you're not here... I'm about to leave and suddenly I feel I'm breathing easier, calmer.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

Thirty minutes later, after having a much needed shower, I get dressed and see five missed calls and a text message on my phone. I raise my eyebrows reading it. The dean is asking me where I was as he brought the faculty backstage to congratulate us all. Well, you should have told me you'd do that... I groan. I type out a polite text back. "My apologies, it had not occurred to me that it would have been better to stay in case there was a meet-and-greet. I'll be mindful of that next time. I can come there now; in case you'd still like me to meet up with the teaching staff? Or is it too late?"

Ayindei

I can make out a look of discontent in the dean's eyes. I wonder if I've done something wrong, and I see him pull out his cell phone and text angrily. He approaches me and says, “The choreographer isn't here, and I think it's our duty to make sure he's at the party the faculty is organizing in honor of the dancers and this ballet”. I don't dare reply and say approvingly, “You're right, Mr. Dean. But I didn't see that young dancer who played the main character in the ballet either.” The Dean laughs, “Yes... That's who I'm talking about. I'll text him.” And I hear him whisper what he's writing as old people do “Come right away! The ballet needs you and the faculty wants to congratulate you.”

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

I sigh. Old pompous ass... I decide to dress up a little. I put on a striking button-down shirt in a rich raspberry color and black dress pants, narrow enough to accentuate my thighs and glutes, but still not narrow enough to be inappropriate. I leave the couple of top buttons of my shirt open. Blow-drying my hair, I sweep it back and make my way to meet the faculty. I'm surprised to see you in here. Oh... this must be the new history prof... I shake everyone's hands and thank them politely, and then it's time to face you. "Hello, I'm Lloyd Morgan. But you can just call me Lloyd. I hope you liked the show. What's your name?", I ask, extending a hand. Holy shit, the guy's tall. As I stand before you, I need to crane my neck to meet your eyes. You tower over me, your physique even more prominent at this distance. I feel a tingle in my stomach as I am close enough to get a scent of your cologne.

Ayindei

I'm in the middle of the room where the party is taking place. I'm chatting with the students after being introduced by the dean. Everyone is lovely and I think I'm lucky to have been given this job for the next term. But something is missing.... You're not here... I'm not at peace... It's not that I miss you... I don't know you.... It's not that I'm afraid of your arrival... I even think it's something I long for... I just have you in my head. It's like a movie's playing in my brain. Those few seconds at the end of the show when you were breathing heavily... That's all I see, your body dripping with sweat. Suddenly, an incredible smell enters the room and I turn around. When I see you, I know I'm screwed. When I see you, I understand what you've done to me. You've devastated my feelings... You crushed my spirit... I don't know if it's called love at first sight, but I know I'm fucked. You squeeze my hand and I smell you. I look longingly at the tips of your pecs that I can admire. My eyes slide over your face to admire your smile. I can't let you destroy me like this... I can't let my feelings dominate me, or I'll jump all over you. I'll have to resist. I close my face and when you ask me what my name is, I reply with a stern, unpleasant air, “You can call me Professor Gordon, sir!”

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

You reply with a formality that I didn't expect, but I don't argue against it. "Ah, so you're the Professor Gordon. I've heard about you, of course. We're all very happy to have you here, your resume is... quite impressive", my smile broadens a little as my gaze drifts down for a split second, before I return it back to your eyes. "How have you been liking our university so far?", I ask.

Ayindei

You keep talking to me. If you only knew how each of your words is hurting my heart. I feel I must resist, but I know I can't. Every time I hear your voice, my heart beats so fast I think it's going to explode. I'll take the time to answer your last question. It's a way of hiding my embarrassment but I hope you'll think it's a form of pride. “Everyone is extremely kind... People are eager and pleasant. I'm sure it'll be the same when we're in the amphitheater”.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

Eager? I'm not quite sure what you mean by that, but I decide not to press you on it. You seem a little stiff and uncomfortable, and I'm not really sure why. Maybe you're just not too social a person, or maybe you figured out I'm gay and you don't want me talking to you, because you're uncomfortable around gay people. "Well, I'm glad our team has made you feel welcome. I really hope you enjoy your stay here... to the fullest.", I pause a little before that last bit. "If you ever need any help, or have any questions, feel free to let me know... Or anyone else among the teaching staff. Ah, I suppose I should tell you... I'm also a teacher here. I teach Contemporary Dance and Choreography. I'm sure we'll meet again... during one of the staff assemblies at the latest", I chuckle. "It was great meeting you!", I say, and then move on to continue the meet-and-greet, eventually joining a group of students in one of the corners of the room.

Ayindei

The last words you say break my spirit in two. You look so young; your body is so supple... I was sure you were a student... Part of my reserve was undoubtedly related to that. I made it a point not to have sex with my students.... That's too bad a cliché... But you're a teacher... like me... I see you're turning your gaze and your tone is becoming more neutral... You turn your back on me and walk towards your students. My eyes for a moment stare at your ass. It's less molded than in your dance tights, but it makes me want to get to know you just as much. You walk towards your students. They look good with you. Everyone's at ease, yet you've managed to keep that distance. Damn! So many things I don't know how to do. I move to join you, but the dean calls me to introduce me to the teachers I don't know yet.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

As the evening goes on, I find my mind drifting back to you occasionally. It's been a long time since I've met a man as attractive as you. One might say you're even... too hot. A university professor should not look like this... so muscular, powerful, imposing... It's impossible for you not to leave an impression. All that said, you didn't seem too interested in talking to me, and early on, you made it very clear that you expect me to maintain a professional distance. So, I do my best not to think about you too much. After all, we're not teaching in the same building, so we might not even see too much of each other. After a while, I feel like it's time for me to leave. I've talked to everyone that I needed to talk to, and I'm tired after an exhausting day. I walk up to the dean and tap him on the shoulder. I thank him for organizing this get-together and make sure to mention that I hope that the success of tonight's performance will mean more support for similar projects in the future. He gives me some vague, non-committal answer, but I really didn't expect much more. I turn away and get ready to leave, taking a glance around the room, curious, despite myself, about whether you're still here or if you've left already.

Ayindei

Since you stopped talking to me, I haven't been paying attention to anything. Colleagues come and talk to me but I don't really pay attention to them. Students, the ones who want to have a career in academia, come and kiss my ass so that I'll notice them and help them in their endeavors. But all I think about is you. New scenes play in my head... At the end of the show, I'm now thinking of your pecs, your ass... You're haunting me... You're controlling my mind. The party ends and people are leaving. There aren't many of us left in the room and I'm dreaming of going to bed... The fatigue of the journey, the shock of my emotions... I turn to say goodbye to the dean when I see your back leaving the room. The dean is tired and fortunately doesn't hold me back for long... but too long for my liking.... When he lets go, I can't see you anymore... I pick up the pace, hoping to find you before you leave.... You're heading for your car... I call you “Lloyd! Sorry to bother you!” I know I must sound like an idiot, but I can feel some kind of emotion in my voice. I regret the way I spoke to you. I regret doing everything I could to keep you away from me.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

I step out into the night, the cool air feeling good on my skin after the heat and humidity of that room. Then I hear you call after me. "Oh... Professor Gordon, yes?", I turn around, a small smirk on my lips, aware of the awkwardness of the fact that we just addressed each other with such different levels of formality. But after all, this is what you told me to call you, so I will stick to that. You're walking quite fast. For a moment I wonder if I dropped my keys and you're rushing to give them back to me... But my keys are still here.

Ayindei

The guy I'm walking towards turns around and it's not you.... It's a student... I blush at the shame of what I'm about to experience. He can clearly see that what I want to do is not normal. I flatly apologize and tell him it's a mistake. Just then, I hear your voice calling my name. I turn around and see you... A huge smile invades my face... I look at you and say “Lloyd, call me Ayindei. It'll be easier... I also want to apologize for the unpleasant tone I used earlier. It's probably the jet lag and then there were too many people... I'm not a network man.”

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

I pause a little, surprised that you'd bring this up. "Oh.... Don’t worry about that, it happens. I thought it might be something like that. Ayindei...? Did I pronounce that right?", I smile. "It's quite an unusual name... well, around these parts at least. What does it mean?"

Ayindei

The more I hear your voice, the more I find it has incredible tones. The more I look at your body, the more I know I'm falling under your spell. You ask me what my first name means after making sure you pronounce it right. I don't want to sound too learned, so I tell you that Ayindei means in an African dialect “We gave praise and he came.” I smile a little, but I don't want you to guess too much the emotional state you're putting me in.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

"Ah, how lovely. It's a very spiritual name", I smile. I consider asking you whether you are a spiritual or a devout person yourself, but I refrain. It's way too early to talk about religious beliefs, you barely know the guy, and besides, this might be too private. But now that we got that out of the way, I feel like it's time to part ways. You apologized for your tone, I accepted the apology, so, I can just wish you a good night and leave. Right? For some reason, I find it hard to do that... There is a vibe about you... Something unspoken. As if you wanted more than to just apologize. But... I can't put my finger on it exactly. "So, did you only arrive today? You must be exhausted. Did you manage to settle in in your apartment already? A lot of staff has lodgings on the campus. I suppose they gave you an apartment as well? Or did you get something in the city?"

Ayindei

What's happening between us is weird... I don't know how to describe it... We both know we're going to have to leave each other. But I don't want to, and I want to believe that you don't either. Your remarks about my name touch me. The look I seem to see in your eyes moves me. Fortunately, this discussion is about my home. "Yes, the dean has offered me a student room while I find something better. It's very small... but the trip was tiring... and so were the emotions..." I leave my sentence hanging, as if I didn't want to say more, or as if I didn't dare... I pretend to turn around. But I can't... My eyes are riveted to you. My body seems to be drawn to you like a magnet or an oyster to its rock. With all the effort in the world, I manage to turn around and head for the entrance to the hall. Then I change my mind and come back to you: "Do you know how I can get to room 234B?"

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

You turn around after mentioning being tired from the trip, and the emotions, but without saying goodbye. You don't specify what kind of emotions, but... you could simply be talking about the sadness of leaving home for the first time and everyone you care about. I have a subtle feeling that this probably isn't all there is to it, but... I can't be sure. Relax Lloyd, you're probably just over-interpreting things because the guy is hot. Still, the way you turned around is kinda abrupt. Just as I was about to teasingly say: "Well good night to you too", you turn back. "Oh? Yeah, sure, that's on the other side of the campus. You were offered a student room? Yeah, I'm sure that's just temporary. They will arrange an apartment for you. If they don't do so within a week, you should press them for it. So... the 200-building is across the campus, past the cafeteria...", I turn around and point at the way, "...uhm... I could just walk you there, if it's easier?", I offer with a smile.

Ayindei

The more I see you, the more I realize how strange my behavior is. The more I see you, the more I understand that you make me a stranger. I'm rude to you, brutal, when all I'm trying to do is show you how I feel about you. But it's all a blur. What you've done to me has been so sudden... I feel like nothing can ever be the same again... I hoped you said good night before I turn around. I feel a shiver run through my body. If you only knew with whom I want to spend this night... But I try to hide my emotions by closing my face... You offer to accompany me to the building... I think this time I can't hide the smile that's lighting up my face "Uh.....I wouldn't want to bother you..... You must be exhausted after your show.." I look towards the spot you've indicated and for a few seconds close my eyes, hoping you'll understand that I'm longing to see you in my company.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

I pause for a moment, unsure if I should insist. On one hand, I don't want to be pushy... On the other... you did ask where the room is, so you might not be sure how to find it, and it would be pretty unfortunate for you to wander around the campus alone in the dark. "It's not a problem, it's just walking... And my legs are the strongest part of my body", I chuckle, then blush. Holy shit, did you actually just say that? Grateful that the darkness is concealing my embarrassed redness, I start walking in the direction I showed earlier. "I think it'd be easier to just show you the way than to describe it. There are some landmarks that you can use for easy orientation."

Ayindei

When I hear you accept my proposal, I'm ecstatic. You tell me that your legs are the strongest part of your body. I can't stop looking at them. They're as thick as my forearms and that makes me smile, even though I can see you scissoring my head with them.... I'll let you go ahead so you can show me the way... I stay a few steps behind you because I can feel my bulge quivering since I managed to renew the dialogue with you. I take the opportunity to admire your ass, your thighs, your calves. I think your whole body has become an object of desire... I know it's going to look suspicious if I'm too far behind you. I get closer, hoping I'll be able to calm the excitement in my crotch.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

As we walk to the building where your room is, you're quiet, but perhaps you're just tired... or simply don't know what to say. I point out the memorial plate on the side of the path, the cafeteria building, the small roundabout... all things that you can use to orient yourself before you get so familiar with the campus that finding the building becomes effortless for you. You keep walking slightly behind me. I consider slowing the pace down, so we get to walk side by side, but I don't want to make things awkward. Although, with you out of my field of vision and staying fully quiet, I have no idea if you're listening to what I am saying at all. Finally, we arrive in front of your building. "Here it is", I smile brightly and turn to face you. "Do you think you'll remember the way here?"

Ayindei

The whole trip was a delight... You've been extremely kind, giving me all the bearings I needed to get my bearings. Damn, you're not only divinely handsome, you're also infinitely kind... Why do I fight my feelings? Why don't I listen to my emotions? I know my feelings have played too many tricks on me? I know I've been punished too often by my emotions? But here! It's not possible to feel what I feel for you without it being a bit the same for you. You're starting to pull away from me and I know you'll soon be going back to your apartment. Without even realizing it, I put my hand on your shoulder and bring my mouth close to your face. A shiver runs down my spine before I pull myself together. Embarrassment invades my face and I try to say something completely stupid, but it's all I can think of: "Would you like to try some Jamaican rum? I brought some back!"

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

Suddenly, I feel your large warm hand on my shoulder and your handsome face moves in closer.... A wave of tingles shoots through my body and in an instant, I can feel my heart racing. But then you stop and invite me inside. I smile. I know what this means... All the other signs and hints that I've seen before... All could be explained away by you just being tired... or thinking about something else... But this... you were moving in for a kiss, and that's a fact. I decide to tease you a little, just to see how persistent you will be. "Ah, that's very kind of you, but I actually don't drink. And... tomorrow's a work day, so even if I did... I really shouldn't." However, despite refusing this specific offer, I don't step back. Your hand is still on my shoulder and we are standing very close. I can feel your scent and the heat of your body in the cold night air. It's a good feeling. I look up into your eyes and let my gaze linger. The streetlights are quite dim and I can't be fully sure of your expression... but your eyes glimmer in the night.

Ayindei

When you tell me you can't come to my room because you don't drink, you create infinite pain in me. I thought I could seduce you... I finally had the courage to express my feelings, and now I have the feeling that they're not reciprocated. You've just broken my heart after creating a field of ruin in my emotions. Yet you don't run away. You stay right in front of me and my mouth is always so close to your face. “Have faith Ayindei!” I say to myself to give myself courage. I feel your breath on my face and this sensation is putting me in a different state. I see your gaze in mine and I feel as if I can read in it what you want from me. I have the feeling that you want the same thing as I do. But how can I be sure? How do I know you're willing? I bring my mouth even closer to yours, but I don't touch you. I position my lips so that they're right in front of yours. My body is telling you that I want to kiss you, but I'm not yet totally sure that you do too.

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

You lean in... closer.... and closer... and then stop just short. You're giving me the space to make a move. There is about a million reasons why kissing you right here right now is a bad idea. But... I don't listen to them. The fact is.... You’re right here... you're absolutely gorgeous... and you want to kiss me. I am usually quite a rational person, but this time, uncharacteristically, I just let the energy of the moment guide me. I lean in and my lips meet yours. Feeling their soft texture... timidly for now... brushing my bottom lip against your top one... craning my head up slightly.... my tongue darting out lightly touch your top lip.... as if to say... it's your turn... giving you space to decide if you want to deepen the kiss... or break it off.

Ayindei

My eyes are closed. I'm too afraid of your reaction. But I can feel your lips brushing against mine. I can feel their softness; I can feel your tongue penetrating my mouth and making it clear that you want this kiss to continue..... But do you really? My feelings are completely turned upside down by what's happening to me. Can I fall in love with you that easily? Can I fall for a guy so easily? For once, I know I don't want to listen to my reason. My tongue mingles with yours and my hands rest on your buttocks so that our two bodies are totally glued together. I let myself go for a few moments... Then I pull back, looking frightened... I look at you, putting a hand over my mouth. It's not a sign of retreat or refusal, but more a sign of fright... What am I doing? I turn to quickly open the door and close it behind me. I rest my back against the door as if to block it. I'm panting, I'm sweating, I'm happy and at the same time I want to cry... You've totally devastated me with happiness...

Lloyd Morgan-Whitman

The kiss lasts for what simultaneously feels like a lifetime and just a second. I feel your hands on my glutes.... pressing me into your body. Underneath your formal suit, I feel the hardness and the definition of your muscles... I also feel your erection poking me into the lower abs. Reflexively, I flex my butt, making my glutes harden and stick out into your hands. But then you break the kiss, your hand over your mouth. I thought I saw fear in your face, but in the dim light, it's hard to be sure. Before I know it, you rush into the building and shut the door. I feel a rock sink somewhere deep into my stomach. Shit... Why? You wanted this... It was clear.... But... I guess you're right though. We're coworkers... you're only here for a semester.... Maybe you're even married or have a partner back home. I don't know enough about you or your life to be able to really tell. I turn around, looking over my shoulder. I sure as hell hope no one saw this, otherwise a scandal might break out. There are no rules against romantic involvement between staff members, but it's still an indiscretion. It wouldn't be great for either of our jobs if word got out about this. All these thoughts swirl in my head as I walk back to my apartment, a feeling of oppressive weight bearing down onto my shoulders. And tonight was supposed to be such a good night...

As I brush my teeth and get myself into the bed, I remind myself that this is probably for the best. He's a coworker... and he's only here for a semester... I keep repeating this to myself almost as a mantra, but the feeling of your lips on mine... your hands on my butt... your torso pressed against me... they keep reemerging into my consciousness... in an almost intrusive way. As I fall into a restless sleep, I dream about you.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Published: 2025-04-25, viewed 197 times.