'Lovely dress xxxx'
The text glimmered into view.Surrounded by books and colour, richness oozing from words and literature...I waited;pounding heart and naked beneath the red dress.
Failing spectacularly to stalk me,we dissolved into smiles and giggles as soon as he walked in..propriety of the British Library shattered...
He enclosed me,
Held me,
Murmured to me...
I could feel every contour, every desire..
In such a public place...

His longing was beyond tangible as we walked past the silent statue..who just glanced, he's seen it all before.

Drinks and talk and touch and kisses..
Lipstick on the glass.
Glass lift to the floor..
Only inside our room is inside my head now.

Frantic and hard and needy...
I protested as he lifted me up, my back on the wall...
Red dress above my thighs...and he was consuming me,filling me,fully, completely...

Slipping and shouting, my back hit the bed...
Coolness of the duvet cushioning as he penetrated me again and pushed and pushed and pushed.
Feeling myself opening, relaxing, accommodating, there was no pain, no discomfort with his body, the sight of which had scared me quite honestly in earlier days. I let him fill my soul and my body cried out.

I have tried so hard to let go and perhaps the beauty of all this, is that, I never have.
This is again the Darcy factor...and again and again it eludes me...that is quite right though...there can never be such a beautiful time again.