Mardi Gras Love

Someone observing from a distance would have assumed we were lovers.  
So earnest our movements and knowing in what the other desired  
Her midnight black face shined lovely with life.  
 
I came to Mardi Gras to erase my history and meet someone unknown who would awaken my desires. And so, there we were, flesh inside of flesh, bringing our unknown histories together only to remain strangers after a few moments of intimacy.  
 
I’d forgotten the South’s humidity so fully on display even in February.
Silvery beads sprouted on her brow, a moist reward for her exertion.  
Her breasts glistened and swayed over me in unison with her hips as if dancing to the music and roar of the streets below.  
 
The beads of sweat became tiny waterfalls that hugged her cheeks as they streamed slowly down, sparkling gold from the afternoon sunbeams that struck her face through her open window. Her every movement was a blessing to me.
 
At a moment that seemed just right, she rolled away from me and I looked down to see my nakedness shining in the golden light. A moment later she knelt with eyes of longing.  A little startled, I happily complied and watched as my streams of lust mix with the salty beads on her brow. She laughed as she wiped her cheeks then licked her fingers to taste a man who would remain a stranger to her.