Backstage with Zafira

Zafira arrived tired. The heat weighed on her, and it weighed on me. We pressed on anyway. She wore black lace lingerie that clung to her body. I wore something light and white. We touched each other slowly at first, just hands and mouths exploring what the heat had left exposed. Then we stripped each other bare. Her skin was warm, almost hot. Mine too. She went down on me and stayed there until I pulled her up. We kissed, then switched. When we both had enough, she stayed close, her legs tangled with mine. A black cat watched us from the corner, still as a photograph.