Thursday, 10 July 2008
At the back of the dance floor, in a crowded lesbian club. I can't hear the conversation but I find out later it's about how to let someone know you want to go home with them. And then this gorgeous girl I barely know is walking around, standing behind me. Her hands on my shoulders, then pressing, sliding down my chest. (Stopping just short of my breasts, temporarily, sexily, rendered beside the point.) A light brush on my ass, a gentle pressure of breasts on my back. How could she know the geography of my desire so intimately? Does she also know how badly I wanted to touch her?