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When that warm, moist softness brushes my lipsand I part them in instinctive surrender. When his tongue has explored theinside of my mouth for so long...that I can hardly breathe and I'm hanging onto his shoulders for dear life...But that wasn't me. It can't have been.Who am I?Why can't I remember?I try to speak. The woman hushes me. She holds something in front of myeyes. A sudden brightness blinds me once again."It's possible that she may show symptoms of post-traumatic amnesia." How severe and. I pushed away, stepped out, smiled and said, “Good night, Phil.” He smiled too as the door closed.I went to my room, closed the door, and thought about the evening, that woman in the black dress, Phil’s story about hiring an escort, a wonderful dinner and then that kiss.That kiss.I undressed, reached for my pajamas, then let them fall to the bathroom floor, got into bed, totally nude, the light from the window offering just a warm sensation, and I wondered what it would be like, well, Robin, . More

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