Once . . .

. . . I saw a couple ice-skating. She was better than he, evidently more accustomed to the ice. He hacked his way round the rink, his cheeks red, his knees uncertain.

She moved round gracefully, gliding alongside him for a time, then pushing forward at her own pace, leaving her lover behind.

I watched as she continued her circuit, her poise in stark contrast to his hesitant motion. Eventually she lapped him, patted him on the bum as she passed, and teased him for his slowness.

Reaching out quickly, he held her to him, feigning anger. She shrieked in pleasure and, unsteadily, they shared a kiss.

Letting go of her hands, he gently shoved her forward, watching admiringly as she skated off.

I guess he knew she’d be coming round again.

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