She wore a red dress, velvet with gems set at her neck and along her hems. She'd piled up her hair, a cascade of brunette curls; She smelled of expensive perfume, she'd earrings made of pearls.  

Sally stood in the doorway, apprehensive and shy, she took Sam's rose, and straightened his tie.  It mattered not the rose was plastic, nor that it was cheap--only that Sam had offered it, for it was hers to keep. 

One hour later, they had finished their meal, Sam bit his lip, and scuffled his heel.  He stood with a start and asked her to dance, he knew time was wasting and now was his chance.   It took four minutes to hold her, twelve minutes to try (he leaned in real close, put his hand on her thigh).

She snuggled real close. Contented, she shighed, and with a deft gesture, she undid his tie. 

At the back of her dress, Sam found her clasp. With a jerk and a twist, he made Sally gasp.  With a velvety whisper, her dress fell to the floor, Sam gulped and felt faint, he couldn't take much more. 

In his arms Sam took Sally, He kissed her with glee.  He kissed her with abandon, he kissed her times three.  She made little noises he was sure were good signs.  They made him feel gooey, they made him feel fine.

Sally held him so close, his hands, she did guide.  She moved by intuition, with no need to hide, for she shivered and tried, though she quivered inside, to speak of her love, and her emotional ride.

"Te amo."  she whispered, "Usted es mi todo.  Usted es mi querido.  Te amo.  Te amo."

Sam was in deep water; he had nowhere to hide.  "I love you."  He whispered, accepting the tide (of his emotion), the pull of his heart.  He loved her to the end of time, he'd loved her from the start. 

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