Our knees touched, and our hands were locked together under the table in anticipation. I leaned over and whispered, “did I tell you that I always go...commando?”Greg smiled with surprise. I added “just something I have adopted since my running days…easier to change clothes…”Heads spinning with excitement and alcohol, we made our way to the truck and drove to the motel.Once in the room, we took our time. We had all afternoon to do whatever we wanted as others believed we were skiing. We opened a. I saw the women. And I desired them all. A young mother bustled by me pushing a pram, wholly absorbed in the life within. She wore no make-up. She had long, hastily tied, pitch black hair, an aristocratic, aquiline nose, delicate high cheekbones, and full, dark lips. I imagined her to have Arabs in her ancestors, perhaps from Morocco or even Portugal or Spain. I imagined her making love in her marital bed, arms and legs passionately wrapped around her man, fertile and beautiful in the fullness. More

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