As you lean back, I engulf you with the soft flannel as you lean back, your back and ass sliding against my chest and crotch, my soft cock, still crusted from our earlier play with some manner of our juices dried on me, against your spine. You rest your forearms and elbows on my arms, and I reach around you to hold a breast with one hand, your belly with the other, my chin and lips at your neck. We sit there, warming each other, not a whisper nor a word between us, only a glance first at the lights out on the water from the fishing boats, then at each other, your dark eyes flashing even in the low light. Occasionally there is a touch worth the thousand words of a picture. The air has a salt-water chill to it, but we’re encased except for our heads peeking out of the flannel, your long hair laying across my neck and shoulder so I can feel your bare neck against me. You smell of love and sweat, and taste of salt and our mixed juices that have found their way to your face and neck as. She took a deep breath."All right, what is it? Have you got another lover? Have you fallen in love? Or have I done something?"Johannes frowned, scrutinizing the tablecloth. Their food began to arrive, and he paused, raising a finger to indicate he couldn't respond just then.When the waiter left them in privacy, he said, "None of those, Helen. At least not the way you mean it. I'm sure you know I've had other lovers, just as I know you do. So another lover wouldn't make a difference for us. And, you've done nothing at all that has to do with this." And, you haven't fallen in love, then?" No. I almost wish it were that." Well, then, what the hell is it?" Very simple, in an ugly sort of way. I've got HIV."Helen managed to put her knife and fork down without a clatter, her face pale. "Oh, shit, Johannes." She put her hands to her face, covering her eyes, then looked at him, her face framed by her fingers. His expression was stricken. She reached for his hand. "Johannes, I'm so sorry. How.
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