Café Maya

~The Dance~

Music playlist, call from the patio of the Café Mayan language :

~ At finis - Etta James

~Come Away With Me - Norah Daniel Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD Souther

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

~I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na Lose You - Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your eyes - The disc

~Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Paul Anka

~If You Don't Know Me By Now - Simply Red

~Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

He stood in the doorway from the street outdoor. There were tables on the base on balls outside, of course, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few masses here and there, mates mostly, the one someone he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to intermit to let his eyes adjust to the lower kindling, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his first stumble here, to the Café Maya. It would appear he had been coming here for quite some time, more often over the past year or so however. No, The Café Maya was quite familiar spirit to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. Well, he and others like him who frequented this lieu. It was a special place. It only existed here in the divinyl ether of this region of fantasy and delusion. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and yearning, the Café Maya was where dreams took shape and became real, even if only for brief periods of time.

Illusion, and fantasy, dreams in early words. Waking dreams, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the affectionateness and mental imagery. In this place, the real globe took a whole step back and this fantasy became very existent indeed. It was a topographic point where like-minded multitude could meet and coexist in person as it were, for a sentence. Like all dreaming, however, the time here in the Café Maya always cut light when the real humans again reclaimed the minds and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to time and time again, to come back in that illusion that filled a nullity that many didn't fully realize until they found this position.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in front of himself to front at it. A perch, nicely styled dinner jacket, a little sporty perhaps, but still schematic enough for about nicer restaurants frock essential. He shook his nous in wry entertainment as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the offset seat as he was not one to dress up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coat check mark. There, in an alcove by the threshold was a vernal girl smiling at him as she gave him a call ticket and took his jacket to hang up until he was ready to leave.

As he slipped the ticket into his scoop, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually favor blue jean, but rather a Nice pair of slacks. The silk button down shirt was whippersnapper and comfortable as were the fashionable layabout on his feet. Now he knew that somebody else had had a deal in his coming into court. The magic of Café Maya it would look. While each person has their own imagination to eviscerate from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each other create the illusion ... or reality ... that we shared here.

Once more Floyd looked around the inside of the café. If he was dressed this way, she must be here somewhere. As his eye had adjusted to the lower light, he began to break up out faces here and there. Again, there were couple and even leash and four-spot at some tables engaged in conversations, and other thing. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate exchanges of whispered intimacies or kissing.

The light pushover from the sea carried through the undecided doorway from the terrace, causing the linen paper on the tabular array to flutter at their edges. On the duck soup was, of course of instruction, the salty air from the ocean, along with the scent of the flower beds on the patio. rosebush, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to head out onto the patio, following the scent in hopes of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the threshold to the patio, momentarily blinded by the often brighter lighting than the Interior Department of the Café. He paused just through the doorway to let his center adjust. There was a Song dynasty playing over the strait system, a familiar melody, one that he felt was hauntingly familiar but that he couldn't key out right away. It was an instrumental version and it was winding down, the last few bars playing out as he looked around the patio. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the boundary of the patio facing the beach. A few strand of her lovely dark hair lifting on the breeze blowing in from the sea. In her hands she held a single lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The flabby petal brushing her cheek as she gazed out at the breakers. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the following Song dynasty began to play over the speech sound system,"At Last"by Eta King James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely aspect broke into a unsure smile when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the swarm. The song's lyrics were oh so poignant, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to take the air across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his eyes off of her as he approached.

Shobha had arrived early today. She thanked whatever fates or circumstances that had allowed it because it gave her a small supernumerary time to sort through her thoughts. At start, she had sat at a table inside, but nervousness or perhaps skittish Energy had gotten the skilful of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the amalgamate scent of the flowers and the salty air from the ocean breeze that drew her. The music that was playing was both soothing and ... made her think.

She had been doing a lot of thinking lately. She so very dearly missed her late hubby. She knew in her core of hearts that she would never detect another like him. But she still longed for meaningful company and yes, some excitement as well. She was still a new woman at marrow. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new friend. Somehow, he understood how she felt and what she wanted. He too seemed to be looking for something, like she was. She knew that Floyd was hopelessly in sexual love with his married woman and didn't need a backup any Thomas More than Shobha herself needed a replacement for her previous husband.

What they both needed was a friend. person to share those intuitive feeling of longing and desire with here in this suspended reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a lifelike resource, and it seemed as if Floyd had an amaze imagination as well. This very café was his thought, but he had asked for her helper in making it more real. A place they could take on and be together if for forgetful periods of time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the particular that truly brought this place to spirit. Even the look of food grain of sand on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under groundwork when she moved about. The sound of the surf and moving ridge washing onto the grit of the beach that she was looking out at a moment ago. The low mumble of voices in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The auditory sensation of ice in glasses and silverware and shell from people eating. And, the music.

She thought it was interesting how the lyrics of the birdsong often reflected her own opinion and feelings. Perhaps they were Floyd's thought process and opinion, since she was not the one to recollect of the music. A new song had begun to play on the music system. An old Graeco-Roman By Eta James,"At lastly ”, when Shobha could feel eyes upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the strain ... At last. She turned to seek him out.

There, just outside the room access to the interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost fainthearted smiling warmed her philia and gave her a mysterious little bang. The heat in his eyes as he drank in her visual aspect made her feel butterfly in her stomach. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, nice morass and stylish yet well-situated shoes. Of course of instruction, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her mental imagery at fun now. Her originative share to their oasis on the internet, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not wee-wee her feel excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a occlusive in front of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright upturned facial expression, her nervous almost shy smile letting him know that she was happy to see him. They both stood motionless as Etta belted out her song over the speakers around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding reciprocal excitement and expectation in the former's eye.

"Have you been waiting long ?"Floyd asked almost apologetically.

"No, not long. I got here a piffling early to see all this beautiful creation. It is so ... so real."Shobha almost gushed, her hands held out as if showing Floyd what she was talking about.

"It wasn't all my doing."He admitted."I think a gravid deal of it is from your resourcefulness. The flowers for exercise. I had imagined only something simple-minded like Jasmine. But You like roses and Lilies."Floyd said motioning to the lone lily that Shobha still held lightly in her mitt.

"I wasn't even aware that I had imagined it."Shobha said with a smile and glanced at the lily in her hand thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's beautiful ... like you."Floyd said with that warm smiling again as he reached out and touched her hand holding the flower, and leaned in to take a delicate sniff of its fragrance.

Shobha watched as Floyd's eyes closed for a instant as he sniffed the flower, his smiling never faltering. Instead, if anything, his smiling grew bigger and he sighed when he exhaled before straightening back up and opening his eyes to look at her once more. Just then a new call began to spiel ... Shobha noticed that other twosome were now standing and stepping out onto the patio, pairing up to dance. She looked back to Floyd.

The scent of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparison to the woman holding that flush. Was it his imagination, or hers, that supplied the scent of her fragrance. It was clean, flowered, and enticing. He wanted to smell to a greater extent of it. I wanted to be closer to this beautiful woman. Those thinking flashed through is mind even as a new song began to play over the music system. He recognized the tune, and the singer. This was perfect, and better still, it was a wonderful Song dynasty to which to trip the light fantastic.

Floyd extended his right hired hand politely and looked Shobha in her lovely embrown eyes and asked her."Would you like to trip the light fantastic ?"The opening melody of"Come Away With Me"by Norah Inigo Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a slight hesitant, again. It had been so retentive since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still call up how ? Would she obstruct herself if she tried ? So many interrogative, it caused her to waffle. She chewed her bottom lip for just a moment before she threw caution to the lead and nodded her school principal and extended her own hand to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped near to one another. Floyd taking her veracious hired man in his left hand. Shobha rested her left hand on Floyd's right shoulder as his mightily hand rested lightly on her left hip. They began to rock and their substructure slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in sentence to the music. As the Sung dynasty went on, their torso pressed closer and closer to one another. Shobha could sense the firmness of Floyd's breast through his silk shirt. The warmth was electric, it caused her to shiver slightly with delectation. Her own body passion rising along with her turmoil. She suddenly became self-consciously cognizant that her own arousal was causing her nipple to harden beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to relax into the move of the terpsichore, and into each other as they held one another close. It was a belief of warmness and familiarity that both had missed for their own reasons for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to front up into Floyd's optic only to incur him gazing openly back into her own. The soft smile on his face told her that he was enjoying his time with her as much as she was being with him in this wonderful piazza.

The song wound down to a conclusion and the terpsichorean on the patio paused, some exiting to their table, others lingered for the next song. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of course of study, with no medicine, but they stayed holding one another close, though they did disunite just a bit in modestness as they eyed one another with almost shamefaced grinning. They didn't have fourth dimension to get down any conversation however, as the sound system was soon alive with yet another song to dance to.

The following song * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the resident D.J. was a little livelier than the live on, but still sedate enough to be considered soundly for ho-hum saltation."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. Souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a rhythm method of birth control and pacing that just begged one's feet to move. And if one were holding person special close, it was all the dear. The smile on Shobha's human face was radiant. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you prefer this song, and the others ?"Shobha asked quietly, with an almost faint voice.

"I did."Floyd admitted, then asked."Do you not like it ?"

"Oh, it's wonderful and a decent birdsong to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different Sung you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to elaborate more.

"Perhaps ... They do separate a narrative, or paint a picture, don't they ?"He asked with a smile.

"It sounds as if they are describing me, or you possibly."Shobha said thoughtfully

"Or maybe the Song dynasty writers were merely describing their own intuitive feeling and idea that are alike to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

"wellspring, whichever it may be, they fit the humor very well, do they not ?"Shobha stated and looked up into Floyd's eyes again with a tender smile and chewed the corner of her can lip.

Floyd groaned silently as this was a look that many women in his past had given him and it always meant that the Lady giving it was both mad and maybe a little uneasy. Anxious, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to press herself even closer to him as they continued to dance and persuade to the music. Their animal foot gliding effortlessly in sync across the terrace, the sand grinding beneath their feet atop the pavers.

As the song wound down to a end, More professional dancer left the patio. The sun had lowered on the horizon, and as the sky grew darker, soul turned on some galvanising fairy ignitor that were strung over the patio giving the dancers some soft kindling with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the visible radiation reflected in Shobha's centre as she gazed up into his own. It was magical.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another finish. Perhaps neither wanting the eve to end so soon. Floyd was about to suggest that they have a seat and order a boozing, but a new song began to play. He could experience Shobha's body begin to sway in time with the medicine so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to continue dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's rendition of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a slow dancing birdsong, this one was a little faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to trace their emotions and feelings in the lyrics of the song. There was a feeling of peaceableness as the two smoothly moved about the patio in time to the music. Their trunk melding together as the swayed and held each former close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their centre were opening up to the opening that in one another they had found some little measure of understanding and recognition of desire. This fancy, this suspended realism was growing on them, becoming more than and Sir Thomas More existent with each passing second. This time as the vocal wound down to its closing, they never stopped dancing. They continued to hold one another closely as if savoring the human touch and togetherness.

The following Sung dynasty up began to wager. The pace was decidedly dim and nearly matched their instant. As the Isaac M. Singer began to babble out, the lyrics again took on a haunting lineament as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their thoughts were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na fall back You."

Shobha shifted her mightily hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left hand and brought both of her hands to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now free hired man settle on Shobha's correct hip. Now both hands were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously internal. This end, their bodies ground against one another. Shobha's tit and abdominal cavity pressing against Floyd's chest and torso. He had been witting for some fourth dimension of the growing bulge in his slacks. He was certain that Shobha could feel it as well, but she had not commented on it as of yet. Was she embarrassed ? Was she excited ? Maybe a little of both ?

"Am I ? Shobha asked half way through the song.

"Are you what ?"Floyd queried in response, not understanding her question.

"going away to recede you. Like the song says."She elaborated.

Floyd remained tranquility for a few steps as he thought about it and they continued dancing. He then brought his right hand up to Shobha's delicate chin and with his fingers, gently raised her facial expression to look at him in the eyes again.

"I only have overtone say in that ... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it ? Everything we've talked about and cause shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't lose me without your decision to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may change our minds at some peak. Perhaps the birdcall is telling us to hold dear the moment. To love one another like we are afraid that we will mislay one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his step as they danced on.

Once more the vocal they were dancing to ended and there was another pause before the next Sung began to represent. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to depend into one another's eyes, Shobha pulled herself even tighter to Floyd's breast. Her arms around his neck and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sensation of person wanting him so very a lot physically, let his manpower slip from her hips and wrap around to hold the small of her spinal column and draw Shobha ever tighter to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent thank you for the affection that she felt being returned by this man in her arms.

An old classic, romantic Sung dynasty began to roleplay, a myopic tune, but one that touched nerves that both were baring to the early. The haunting melody for"pot Gets In Your Eyes"by the record came from the speaker system around the terpsichore floor on the patio. They were soon joined by other couples who were holding each early as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm breath escaping her brim so close to his neck, it gave him goosebump and he shivered slightly at the confidant sensation.

It was a short circuit song but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for fan and slacken dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your Head On My Shoulder"by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop romance song had them swaying and feeling dreamy in clip with the pulsation. Like the birdcall suggested, Shobha lay her drumhead on Floyd's shoulder as they continued to sway and run with the beat. Floyd leaned his own head over to rest against Shobha's, his nose once again filling with the scent of her fuzz and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magic in and of itself. He was truly in the moment, cross away with her warmth and beauty.

The sun had edged closer to the visible horizon as they had been dancing. It was a spectacular and colorful wad as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on fire, the colors ranging from bright golden yellows to reds that resembled coal of a dying flaming. There was a feeling of time slipping away, once more. The short-circuit Song only reinforced that tactile sensation of fleeting opportunity. The adjacent song up on the D.J.'s playlist also seemed to resound those thoughts. A dull toon, almost somber in tone and cadence."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely music to trip the light fantastic to, and dancing with each other, holding one another finish. Feeling the excitement and sexual tension between them only made the song and the terpsichore all the more insinuate indeed. Their faces were cheek to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them face to face and their lips brushed lightly together in a flabby breathless omnibus. The gentle touch of their back talk sent signals of wanton desire through both of their organic structure and their center one-half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the song ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in place, lip touching lips as the kiss grew in saturation and fervor. They pulled apart just far sufficiency to change the sides that their nose were on before reengaging and parting for their tongues to meet and begin to trip the light fantastic. Floyd felt Shobha's fingerbreadth running through the hair on the back of his head. His own script had drifted up her side to just under her subdivision as he gently squeezed her as if trying to withdraw the kiss even closer to him.

He could feel her chest rising and falling with each turn on hint, and even her heart whacking within. Floyd was sure that Shobha, too, could palpate his own meat beating in his chest as she was so close to him as to nearly be a second gear skin ... her titty pressed tightly to his own chest. As exciting as it was, both knew that metre was short and their sojourn would soon come to an end ... for this eve. The keening of sea patsy drew both of their aid towards the beach for a second. Both lost in their own intellection for a few minute. When the side by side song began to act as on the sound system of rules,"disgusting Game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's eyes and spoke.

"I know this song. Did you have this song in psyche ? Or did my subconscious mind provision it ?"

The nonplused locution in Shobha's eyes told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden botheration of melancholy. This song was oh so poignant and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared situation. Meeting this way and ... feeling for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's hand in his and lead her to the expiration from the patio out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a here and now to complain off his place, and Shobha followed his lead, and took off her own shoes. Letting their bare toes and human foot be warmed by the sand.

Hand in script they strolled through the George Sand to the surf and then turned to walk along the beach at the water's edge, getting their feet wet from time to sentence. Each carried their brake shoe in one manus, but were joined at the hip, hand in hand. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the closeness of her organic structure against his own. The Song played on in the distance behind them on the terrace of Café Maya. The sound of the surf and the waving gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the euphony.

At one item they both sensed the need to stop and turned to confront one another fully. speech weren't necessary, the look in each other's middle spoke volumes that words would only confuse. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing passionateness and forgetting the words of the Sung that was winding down ... about not wanting to diminish in love.

Would that be such a bad thing. To fall in love life with someone who felt the same desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one love more than just one early soul. Shobha with her tardily hubby, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the former was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that passion ... but to be able to have a go at it another ? Perhaps not to the like degree, but just as real ... as tangible as their illusion and suspended reality here anyway.

lip embraced and caressing, clapper dancing and tasting one another. Their brake shoe hit the grit as their custody freed themselves to explore this other soul's body that was so rouse and new and for the consequence anyway, so very real. Floyd's paw went to Shobha's waist and held her for a moment, then ventured around her incline to come to rest on the highest reaches of Shobha's backside. Her womanly figure cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's creative thinker.

Shobha's bridge player ventured up Floyd's body her paw running over his abdomen and flat along his chest between them. One manus pausing near his articulatio humeri and the other continuing up to cup the side of his face, her ribbon on his brass as they continued to kiss passionately. Who began to puff and moan softly first could give birth been debated, had anyone else been around to hear it. But for this present moment, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their reality condensed to just a few square measure at the edge of the sea, in the wet sand and breaker on this reckon beach.

Floyd's hands slid lower still, softly but insistently gripping her cheeks, one in each hand, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his eubstance. Shobha's hand left his cheek and moved once more to the back of Floyd's heading, as if the anchor herself to him. Her other deal grew bold and ventured back down his breast to his waistline before pausing. Perhaps she was having second thoughts or momentary doubts, before it began to move again. Downward slowly, along the front end of Floyd's slacks her hand, palm flavourless against the material of his bloomers, felt the bulge that lay inside under the cloth. She inhaled sharply at her own boldness perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to breathe in sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's handwriting rubbing lightly on the front of his trouser and his put up humanity within. It didn't flavor as if she were trying to initiate something more ... physical ... but that she was letting her wonder innocent to explore the hypothesis. Just as he himself had thoughts of with is own work force gripping and squeezing her rear. Floyd couldn't, however, stay fresh his body from reacting to her soupcon even as doubtful as it might have been. His hips rolled slightly and pressed into her manus that was between them.

Floyd's reaction caused Shobha to gasp again softly as she realized that she had caused that reaction. There was some small-scale part of her that was nearly ecstatic about that, that she could have that effect on a man. Her authority soared to new heights and her womanly ego seemed to grow by just a small step as well. It was exciting on so many floor.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the kiss. Eyes searched eyes. Hearts raced and they were both nearly panting as they caught their breathing time. The sun finally dipped below the skyline and the light faded to nearly darkness. Yet their eyes shined brightly with desire and curiosity at this discovery. A feeling of anticipation was palpable for both of them. Even as Floyd released his hold on Shobha's posterior and she met his script at her coxa with both of her own. They interlocked their fingers and held them lightly.

The speech sound of the surf and the seagull overhead seemed to fade slightly. Oddly, the sound of their heartbeat in their own pinna got louder. A tactual sensation of ... not quite sorrow, but a piffling unhappiness came over both of them as they searched for answers in each other's eyes yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the actor's line for the feelings he wished to give tongue to."I ... Thank you. Thank you for showing me that this could even be."He finally spoke.

"It is I who should be thanking you, perhaps."Shobha nearly whispered. Before continuing."Thank you for trusting me. I feel so happy to have met someone I can feel safety with, to express and share my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this shared space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This piazza is ... magical. And you. You are like a djinn in the nursing bottle. You are magic incarnate. I could trip the light fantastic with you every nighttime, and I am not usually a dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against hope that Shobha would grant him this wish.

"I would make out to, do this again. And, perhaps ... even more ?"Shobha responded hopefully.

Floyd could show between the transmission line, he too could feel the excitement and anticipation of farther geographic expedition of the possibilities of what they could contribution going forward. He smiled but his voice was choked for the moment so he brought Shobha's properly deal to his lips and kissed the back of her finger delicately. Finding his voice, he began to mouth ... but the sound of a telephone tintinnabulation in the distance distracted him. Half turning his head, he broke eye touch with Shobha and the ringing grew a lot louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his entrust hand in battlefront of his cheek, sitting at his desk in front of his electronic computer. The phone beside his pc was ringing. He had to blink a few sentence before he realized that he was back ... back in the mundane realism of the real world. Yet despite the sonority of the telephone beside him, he could faintly try the strains of the last song they had heard from the Café ... Wicked Game. ~I never dreamed I'd love individual ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you ... No, I want to go down in love ... No, I want to fall in erotic love ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-