Cathy

She was so bloomin' young! And blooming truly is the word. I smelled the innocence at once, while focusing my longing eyes upon her milky white and dimpled skin, the asymmetrical slight ruffles near where the heart should be, and ears to kiss and gobble up, if opportunity did offer up itself. I did not mind her passiveness, or was it fear of fear itself, and we were dancing on the stage the Waltz by Johann Strauss, you know the one, The Danube, we moved as if it were a blues and not a waltz. I was a bit afraid that she would mind my slightly sweaty hands, I did keep wiping what Vagus squeezed through pores perhaps in an attempt to lubricate communication between two souls, both shy, but one much more determined, and just a smidgen hornier to boot. She leaned her cheek so sweetly into mine below the ear, I heard those whispers that were never uttered but inside my daylight dreams, and then I did with terror in my heart take the initiative and kissed her eyes. The dance went to the early morning hours, we left as if to say we are a pair, her flat was on the floor above the top, it had been added as an afterthought and shared its space with some prized pigeons, as well as birds who came to scrounge, and freshly washed blue overalls and socks, some speckled with the gray of pigeon poo. The bed was huge and of a lattoflex design, it did not creak which was a shock at first to me, we settled in, ostensibly to watch the TV news and then the Johnny Carson Show as a dessert. It now was time, she smelled so sweet and fresh, went off to get a large carafe of Gallo wine, we drank with straws that hailed from the McDonalds and giggled at the jokes of Ed McMahon. The gods did like me on that night, they had her say that there had been a slightly sprained left ankle, I took the opportunity to check, massaged and loved the ankle's fourteenhundred points and every hair. From there it did develop, I was soon close to the knee while all my senses had, in undivided manner sent timely signals to my hands and feet and lips which made me feel like a conductor for Chopin, who was, (God thank you I will always honour you) , now joined by the first violin in force, playing études and then a Schubert, on to Liszt, my head was, swimming in a fog of pure desire, while drums went off and one small clarinet spoke up, the grand piano then, but way too soon for trumpets, we were just kissing, as the reasons of convention had briefly surfaced in her mind and not in mine. I covered every inch of skin that night in May, and would have gladly died in bed, with her, a goddess of my being, there were no doubts. I felt a bit embarrassed being so advanced, my God, she even asked how many girls I had been with, you know, she wondered about the deftness of the fingers and how I knew just what to do and what to say. I had been gentle, so she said and I just nodded, I did not have a clue of what that did entail, so with the confidence of arrogance I was the talker, who all night and the next week just clung to her, her ears and all of her, she didn't seem to mind, but then it went all so malignantly and utterly awry, it was the sign, a certain signal from above to say good bye. One cannot be allowed to have it all, not ever, dear. But in that night, when Gallo Burgundy was spilled we did indeed and she will tell you to your face, as she revealed to me, while sharing some with me, I'm now the Godfather to her most precious Jodie, granddaughter who has features unrelated but so close.