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Wine in a barrel
Kisses fast flowing like wine from a jug, no libidinous intentions, just friends sharing love. Aging Montague was quite demure, resisted his bussing with ardent fervor. Puzzlement reigned on anti-Dorian’s grey face, kisses agape so free of disgrace. Fair Juliet smiled and faintly curtsied, but from his moist lips she quickly did flee.

Party was over, the hour was late, he fell to his bed in inebriated state. Awoke in the morning and light shone from within: Infatuation can be viewed as sin. Never thought he of self as Romeo, face quite age marked, and body so-so. Still as he recalled night of happy frolic, laughed as he realized, she’d been scared by dick.

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