Affection Suite
There is something always that calls us out beyond the known world, a song in the heart that yearns for journeys, a place in the heart that listens for the call.
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Waltzing in Pousada de Sao Tiago
memoir of our Macau getaway on 12th - 13th November 2000 in Hotel San Tiago
This Sunday afternoon was started with a blue and melancholy feel.
Drips of raindrops from the orange roof titles drummed up the lush green foliage, its branches were quivering at the mercy of the chill south-easterly monsoon wind blowing from China - foretelling an imminent frosty and miserable winter time.
Looking further afield, a single junk boat was drifting slowly, braced with this sudden shower that swept quick sharp raindrops against the tall glass window where we sat beside and from there we commanded a panoramic view on the estuary.
The veranda , where on a bright and sunny day you and your partner would certainly be dangling outside of this 16th century fortress-now reincarnated as a luxury inn, was closed. Attentions then certainly went to the waterfall cascading down the huge stone wall inside this old fort, The gushing water streams flowing down from the natural spring and alongside the arched staircase was indeed an surprising experience to the first visitors.
My favorite waltz music "Waltz of the Flowers" from Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker was playing. "May I ?" - invitation came shortly after my chivalrous posture. I took her into my arms and drew her to me, and suddenly she became small in my arms, small and nestling. I pressed her close to my breast and we glided over the floor together as if we were but one and a rising and heaving billow.
When she raised her eyes, timidly at first, to my handsome face, now so close to her own, the look that was in my eyes as they met hers, seemed to burn into her very soul. A strange, sweet thrill shook her very being and left her weak and powerless and obliged to depend for support upon the arm which was pressing her to myself in such a suggestive manner, but the sensation was a pleasant one and grew to be the very essence of her life.
She grew more bold, and from being able to return shy glances at first, was soon able to meet more daring ones until, with heart beating against heart, hand clasped in hand, and eyes looking burning words which lips could dare not speak, the waltz became one long, sweet and purely sensual pleasure.
Her head rested upon my shoulder, her face was upturned to me, her arm was almost around my neck, the heap of her soft flesh heaved tumultuously against me, face to face we whirled on, my limbs interwoven with hers, my strong right arm around her yielding form, I pressed her to me until every curve in the contour of her body thrilled with the amorous contact.
Her eyes looked into my eyes, but she saw nothing; the soft music filled the room, but she heard it not; I bent her body to and fro, but she knew it not; my hot breath, tainted with strong drink, was on her hair and cheek, my lips almost fierce, intolerable lust, gloated over her, yet she did not quail.
Our spirit was inflamed with passion and lust was gratified in thought.
"To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love." Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice
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