15
Hot and Cold
20 September 1943
Was it the thirteenth time? He shut his eyes tightly to avoid the ever-increasing rubbing and sucking and dry-humping reflected on the shiny fall board of the upright piano. Thank God he played by ear. But not even his closed lids, or the increased volume of the ivory keys, or the upped decibel of the song he sang, could block out the noises from the couch. Dio mio! There were body parts that would live with him forever, reflected in that piano! And not in a good way.
Yes, without doubt, his was a surreal attraction to Rossa, his Iris, sacred almost, but his body acted in a most un-saintly way. Just a quick recall of her face, and the problem down yonder got completely out of control. By the umpteenth repeat, feet off the pedals and cross-legged, he co
