Aunt Flo - Banana - Rain - Toenail - Wind

I was laying on my bed, extending my legs into the air and admiring the shapely lines of my thighs and calves as I pointed and flexed my toes, my mind drifting shamelessly with my hands as I traced my way down towards my thigh, tracing gently over my tummy, recalling the last time I lay like this.
We had been going at it since mid afternoon. Time lost in the pursuit and enjoyment of endless, rolling, flowing sex. Making love, slow and deliberate after the frenzied start which had us both belly laughing, panting, sweating in a pool of come, his and mine - drenched, temporarily exhausted, exalted.
The light had silently retreated with the hours leaving the beautiful, ethereal glow of late dusk. We lay here, side by side, touching, breathing together, basking in the heady afterglow of endorphin rush. Almost dark now, the silence punctuated by a sudden refreshing gust of wind, billowing the featherlight curtains at the open window, along with the sudden freshness of late summer rain, immediately heightening the senses again with the drop in temperature, the scents, the sounds of a few heavy drops beating a rhythm and merging in a melodic downpour.
The rain broke the moment. The indulgent stolen time. I stretched my legs into the air as he traced my skin with his cool, gentle hands.
My spell had been broken. Our time had come to its end and the mundane madness of routine descended into my over-thinking brain. Momentarily distracted by the sight of a chipped toenail, I was thrown back to that lunchtime when I had been making Aunt Flo's banana sandwich and attending to her with such haste that I stubbed my foot painfully on her heavy, musty armchair, as old and reassuring as its occupant but equally not to be trifled with.
The rush, the anticipation of seeing him had made the day speed by.
But now, with darkness complete signalling a return to normality, I ceased to be able to enjoy our last moments as my mind moved on in self preservation. I sat up, swung my legs round to the side of the bed and scanned the dark room for my strewn clothes. The wonderful detritus of time well spent, now a sad reminder of the time we would have to wait until this would be possible again, if indeed it would be possible.
Precious time spent in the most delightful and indulgent way, leaving a heartwrenching resignation to patience, the pretence of being happy till the next time......
By the time I had let him out of the door into the chill of the rain, I had already let him go.