There was no organist so Alan had shown his resourcefulness by having a small stereo system to hand with the Wedding March on a tape. We stood in near...silence, just the odd word of encouragement from Beverley. We'd waited for what seemed an eternity to me but in reality was no more than five or ten minutes when Alan touched my arm and I spun around. Lena stood silhouetted in the doorway, she looked beautiful. Alan hit a button on the tape machine but there was only silence. What he'd. I caress. Your hip, waist. I count your ribs, the muscles of your back, how they connect to your shoulder. I reach down your arms. Even at rest you are firm. I drift my hand around and over your chest. Across a nipple. Pinch. You shudder. Oh, you are waking? You reach back to me, plant your hand on my ass, squeeze. That feels fine. So you roll onto your back a little and I scoot out from behind and under you. Your eyes are open, you smile. We kiss. Lightly at first. That hand of mine, little. More

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