We had woken very early, with the sound of heavy summer rain hammering desperately on the shutters.
We made love lazily, you on your stomach while I kissed your smooth newly sun-kissed shoulders and breathed in the glorious scent of your hair and neck. We returned to a comfortable, intimate slumber, only aware of each other’s warmth and the gentle pounding of our hearts, almost beating in unison.
When we roused ourselves for a second time, there were sharp, bright, golden shafts of sunshine forcing their way though every gap in the wooden shutters and covering us in bands of new-born, golden light. I peeled back the sheet and you became striped like an exotic and wonderful nymph.
That was the morning I took each of your beautiful warm feet in my hands in turn, and with the heel resting on my naked thigh, very carefully painted your toenails scarlet…
What is it that makes a memory such as this suddenly, unexpectedly, and without invitation or warning, fill our heads and ache in our hearts?
It is so vivid that I can almost hear the bustle in the square below, see your beautifully tousled head, and smell the nail varnish.
(Originally posted in various blogs of mine, including the now deleted Shadows and Dancers)
I remembered it today because the sun shone after rain, I heard a stray burst of flamenco guitar on the radio, and a girl with eyes like hers touched my soul ……
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Sadly the photo is of unknown provenance.