Date: Wed, 20 Sep 2006 07:56:57 -0500
From: KL
Subject: The Varsity Theater Bathroom

I glance into your eyes; I can see youre just as lost in me; and just
as found as I am in you. Youre my anchor, my light. I press tightly
into you, music drifts over our skin, like a familiar lovers caress.
Each note, every chord brings us closer together. Every sensation of
your touch is a joyous wonder affirming our existence. Beat by gentle
beat the music drifts away into the void, leaving just a memory of its
familiar embrace.

Your arms are wrapped tightly around my shoulders. My head rests on
your chest; your heart beat barely an echo away. The musicians on
stage begin to play the next song. We exchange a knowing smile, full
of hidden meaning. The intermission is coming soon; the anticipation
is building like the crescendo of the current ballad.

We rise from the couch, admiring the wonderfully intimate setting that
is the Varsity Theater. Hand in hand we wind our way through the
crowd; up the stairs to the ladies room. Lucky for us there is no line
yet. Smiling we enter the bathroom and immerse our selves in the
pseudo privacy of the far stall. Our lips meet, urgent and hot. I bite
your lip. In response you suck on my lower lip and gently scrape your
teeth across the sensitive skin. Im moist with need. You press me
against the wall, alternately holding me back from taking charge and
holding me up it seems my knees have forgotten how.

Your left hand is holding both my hands captive above my head. I could
get loose if I wanted to, but you and I both know I love it when you
take charge. Your right hand is between my thighs teasing me through
the jean material. Some how your hand is now inside of my jeans,
touching my sensitive flesh. I have no memory of how that happened.
You gently caress the folds of my labia; you find my center moist and
hot. Your fingers play me like a delicate instrument. Hitting high
notes and low notes with no difficultly. My breathing takes on rhythms
of its own, in sympathy yours follows. Soft noises I cant hold back
escape to echo against the walls. Finally my crescendo reaches its
peak just as a woman opens the door and enters the stall next to ours.

We quietly compose our selves leaving the ladies room as quickly as
possible. Hand in hand we descend the stairs and find our seats. A
lovely little number is playing on stage. Contentment is a good way to
describe my emotions at this point.

On this note Sunday Night an Artist I adore is playing at the Varsity
Theater. If anyone is interest in attending with me let me know.