His hands are firm as he caresses me. After all that trembling I didn’t think they could grab anything so firmly. His mouth tastes of alcohol, of a wine reduction that’s been used for cooking, and he has lips, and his lips want me and his arms gather momentum, and I’d imagined I would be in my head, thinking about each gesture, thinking about every single thing that happened as it happened. But no. The blood, his hands, my hands, they just flow, taking the lead, faster, deeper, and we remove our clothes and we touch each other, and it had been a very long time since I’d touched a man’s penis.
