After Maria’s wound was repaired, she and I sat looking at each other. “What now?” Maria enquired bluntly. I ran my hand up her uninjured arm. “I know what I’d like to do,” I whispered, excited by her proximity. Her eyes glittered with mischief as she captured one of my hands. “Come my room,” she ordered. “We see what happens.” We hurried to her room, excited and happy, like two naughty schoolchildren. Maria pulled me inside and closed the door. She stalked over to me like a lion chasing its dinner and then pounced. I giggled as we tumbled onto the bed, tearing at each other’s clothes and soon we were both in a fit state for one of Roger’s paintings. I held Maria at arm’s length and reflected that I must be lonely because she looked even more alluring than she had the first time. Her perfect olive skin glistened in the light filtering through the window, and I touched her body in wonder.
