June 02, 2005

The night smelled like lilacs and under the blanket we pulled down our pants, our breath heavy and moist with desire. By now, the sun had set and all the kids had gone home to watch television leaving us alone in the dark. The park was ours. Her touch was gentle and moving, and above us the sky was crowded with stars.

“What are the charges for public indecency?” I wondered. She didn’t care. Everything dissolved in soft murmurs and the buzz of mosquitoes. Around us the blanket became a pulsating cocoon of warmth and sensation — nothing seemed to exist aside from the two of us locked away in our protective shell. My orgasm left her thigh sticky and moist and we laughed alone in the park. Masturbating foreigners is always funny.