Since leaving the Andes for the hot plains and coast, Pauline and I have developed a little ritual that we do right before going to sleep. She turns around so that her head lies near my feet and vice-versa. And she starts to massage and rub.
- “Oh, yeah. Oh, that’s good.”
- “Do it to me, too,” she insists. “Right there, don’t stop, aaahhwwwww.”
- “Harder, baby, harder !”
- “The other side, on the other side.” She’s frantic. “And use your nails !”
- “Scratch harder !” I’m in ecstasy and agony at the same time. “There’re a few more bites on my heel, don’t forget those.”
This goes on for about 15 or 20 minutes, and when all the bug bites are red, swollen, and numb, we finally doze off to sleep...and dream bug-less dreams.
- “Oh, yeah. Oh, that’s good.”
- “Do it to me, too,” she insists. “Right there, don’t stop, aaahhwwwww.”
- “Harder, baby, harder !”
- “The other side, on the other side.” She’s frantic. “And use your nails !”
- “Scratch harder !” I’m in ecstasy and agony at the same time. “There’re a few more bites on my heel, don’t forget those.”
This goes on for about 15 or 20 minutes, and when all the bug bites are red, swollen, and numb, we finally doze off to sleep...and dream bug-less dreams.
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