Right now, we're at a celilidh, he's dancing with another girl, she's laughing at something he just whispered in her ear, but he winked at me over her shoulder. Even if he hadn't winked I wouldn't be worried, he's not my only lover, nor am I his - we have this strangely open relationship and it seems to work for us both. I was just thinking of when I first met him, a couple of weeks ago, this new person in my life - James. I'd spoken to him on the phone a few times, he was a customer where I worked, I always thought he was a nice guy, never dreamed I'd be attracted to him, let alone find out that he is as thoroughly depraved as me. That's why I say he's an oxymoron, on the one hand he's kind and thoughtful, helps out with the kids at the hospital, makes a point of remembering little things that are important to me and on the other hand he doesn't just love sex, he loves the darker side of sex and now at least I know I'll be in good company when they send me straight down to the big fire! I like him, I sense something in him, a sense of myself maybe, a recognition of the kindnesses within our so called civilisation, but also a realisation of the animals that we really are. A contradiction that to my mind is the best of both worlds...a reality, that I think that others refuse to admit. So many people think that to like dirty sex you must have something wrong with you, but they are the ones who are blind and not only that they are the ones that will go to their graves unsatiated. When I go my thirst will be quenched, because I drank freely of James and people like him and they of me.
He's stopped dancing with her and is walking towards me now, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth - he saw my glazed look and knew I was thinking of him, why must I wear everything on my face? He knows I'm feeling frustrated, I came with him, but we are masquerading as "just friends" since so many of his family are here and all I really want to do is get out of there and rip his clothes off in a frenzy of kissing and biting and scratching. He so knows it, he's starting to look smug, so before he gets to me I turn to the guy beside me and ask him to dance. Now who's frustrated I think to myself, as we whirl past James and I see the beginnings of his hard on - I know what he's been thinking about too. Then my mobile buzzes in my pocket, a text from James, sneaky, but smart...