“You usually put them together in a room. Stand them close to one another. One starts off with looking into the other’s eyes, touching their hands, holding their face, and kissing their lips. Something like this.” Suddenly, just like he had described, looking intently into my eyes, with one hand holding my hand, and the other hand holding my face, he leaned in and slowly began kissing my lips. Softly. Gently. Effortlessly. It was like being kissed for the first time. Gentle like a breeze, soft like a feather, and warm like the sun. I should’ve known what I was getting myself into. Doctor always led to further examinations. This was probably a good time to end our evening.

“William,” I said, still gazing into his eyes, “I think I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“I know you’ve had too much to drink.”

“So, that means whatever happens tonight I can blame on the alcohol?”

“If that’ll make you feel better.”

“It will.”

“Then let’s blame it on the alcohol.”

His hands released my face and moved to my waist, pulling me closer, then gently against my backside. Slowly my hand moved up against his thigh, up past his backside, and up to his rock solid chest. Then up to his neck, grabbing his head. The examination had begun.

With skillful hands like a surgeon’s, he lay me down on the floor in front of the fireplace. I could feel the buttons of my blouse coming undone, freeing my already toasted body. Then my bra. Soon the flames’ reflection danced across my breasts, their warmth slowly erecting my nipples. Slowly he moved to my pants, then my panties. I was soon lying naked. Like a marshmallow, I was hot. Toasted on the outside, melted on the inside. Then William leaned in to my ear and began undressing my mind. Whispering softly, little sweet nothings quickly converting to bigger sweet somethings. They were words coming from the lips of someone who cared. Still, after all these years, he cared.

He slowly removed his clothes. Damn, construction does a body good. Looking all cut up, chiseled, like a bronze statue of David, the Mandingo version, William was packing, and not just a set of tools if you know what I mean. With the hammer he was carrying, my house didn’t stand a chance.

As I stared into the soft flickering glow of love’s dancing flames, the crackling sounds of popping fire melted into the panting sounds of desire as we made love and made light. It was right. Right with the W.

His propellers roared. William was a non-stop flight and I was headed for my first connection. Holding his waist, pulling him close, my body shivered. My soul quivered. As the pouring sweat raced down the sides of my face, he made another connection. And then another. Calling my name, we connected. And we connected some more.

“Montana.”

“Oh, William.”