She walked into the nightclub and stood with the sheep, but she wasn’t part of the flock. She didn’t clutch a drink and danced with a self-conscious sway. No, her eyes held a predatory gleam as her hips moved in a way that hypnotized and seduced. She was a wolf amongst sheep.

My partner, my lover

He gets under my skin

And lights me from within

He is my sun

And his touch is for more than just fun

It has been that way since I turned twenty-one

And we shall burn bright until way past eighty-one.

Grandpa looked about a hundred and three with a face like old, discarded leather and a wiry white beard. But his voice was strong and his eyes wise and we loved when he told stories of Great Depression. Back when he and grandma’s pockets were empty, but their hearts overflowed with love and hope.

Their meetings are clandestine but as inevitable as the waves crashing to the shore during a wild storm.

They are a hurricane of lust, longing, and lechery, one that’s willing to destroy anyone and anything on their path to satisfaction.

His mouth met hers, soft yet firm, his tongue glides along her bottom lip.

The erotic dance begins.

The pounding of their hearts is the beat

The racing of their pulse the melody.

She could dance with her man until the earth turns to dust and sun fades, and never grow bored.