(posted by Martin)
After lunch, we go back to the hotel room. We run to the room with indecent haste, undress each other quickly, and make love in the shower. It’s cramped, oppressive. I like the feeling of closeness, his breath on my neck, his chest hair tickling me, the wicked look that plays across his face as he reaches down and feels stubble. He pulls me close, tells me what he wants to do, and I simply say ‘yes’. He isn’t gentle. That’s fine. It’s an intense feeling. Later, as I lie in his arms, I play with his nipple ring while he calls room service. We share a bottle of wine, and I give him a massage that becomes a caress, that becomes something more. And then I fall asleep in his arms.
This is what I have needed all week. It’s not about sex. It’s not about climax. It’s not about Cal chasing Michael through the flat, pinning him against the wall in the bedroom and making him whimper. It’s about intimacy and closeness. It’s about two people who are so close that they almost become one, but it’s about more than that. It’s about companionship, but it’s about more than that too. And this, I think, is where I’ll stop. We’re going out for dinner tonight. Little place we know, just off the Champs Elysées.
Thanks to Mike for the opportunity to do this. It’s been fun. And, sometimes, thought provoking.
Goodnight and take care,
Martin
troubled diva 