She backed up against me, sashaying like a lazy palm tree. What the fuck do I do. I’ve never been one of those guys who could just pick up girls at parties, nor did I ever want to be. But courtship was engaged and I let it ride.
I would rather tear out my intestines than tell you about this but I think this must be told, for anyone else who might find themselves in such a situation.
She warm. She draped my arms around her like a mink scarf and I moved with her as she led. She spun, lollipop swirl of red and blue. I tried to keep pace but I snatched at shadows.
Suddenly she was close again. Looking down somewhat shly. But this was not only descriptive, but outrageously evil. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Something was stirring within me. More specifically, somewhere down the middle of me. It was then I regretted going commando.
Let me explain.
I woke up baking that morning and the tent was dripping with sweat. It was basically a sous-vide in the Eastern European heat. It’s a festival right? Who the hell needs underwear right? Tim you’re a bloody genius.