“Yes, but the fire is so nice,” I said, putting my hand on the other chair. “Sit her for a while.”

The music had stopped. Bette said, “I’ve got a better idea.” She put the wine glass and bottle on a coffee table and went to choose another album. I smiled when I heard Jackie Gleason’s rendition of, “I Love Paris”. I had seen the cover. It was called, “Music For Lovers.”

Bette walked back to where I was sitting and took my hand. “Wanna dance?” she asked.

I got up feeling rather self-conscious and stepped closer to her as she put her hand up to lead.

This was another first for me – dancing with a woman. It was hard for me to raise my eyes to hers but when I did, I saw her reassuring face, all of it smiling – her eyes, her mouth, telling me it was okay.

I took a few stiff turns with her and then relaxed, lowering my head onto her shoulder, against her neck. By the second song we had our arms around each other. We moved slowly to the music, wordlessly. Then she pulled back and began to unbutton my pajama top, exposing my breasts. She looked at them approvingly which prompted me to do the same with her. I unbuttoned her top too and glanced quickly at her erect nipples which in the subdued light were a warm cocoa brown. I wanted to kiss them, at least one of them but before I could she pulled me close and we continued our dance, sensing the heat of our bare chests against each other.

I could feel her face against my head, kissing my hair. I could hear her breathing and I could smell her sweetness. I was turned on by the softness of her breasts and I was very much aware of her hips, even through our pajama bottoms, undulating back and forth. Her thighs. My thighs. Touching. Rubbing. Her knees brushed my knees, all with meaning and purpose. I could feel all the way down to our slippered feet. For me, every part of my body was responding to the whole of Bette Porter.

Who was it who said that dancing was nothing more than making love set to music? For us it was foreplay and when our soft kisses turned hard and went deeper and deeper, we moved toward the long sofa. Bette gently lowered me down and then laid on top of me. She put her hands under my bottom and pressed herself against me, grinding slowly at first but then more intensely. It made me crazy with desire as we both let ourselves go, rising and falling until we went limp with pleasure and just laid there close like that, feeling the rapid beating of our hearts and listening to our labored breathing come slowly down and back to normal.