Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. That is all she knows now.
"You'll become dizzy soon," he whispers in her ear. She smiles deliriously as he turns her around, spins her again. His hands, big and strong, fit around her waist perfectly.
"Spin," she tells him. "Spin." Again he twirls her. She is tiny in front of him. She smiles again.
The world has become a colorful blur around her. In this spinning she can forget everything. Maybe her past blurs behind her now, and all the lies blur into something deeper, into truth. Maybe this way everything can blur and blur till nothing remains and she can start again. She decides she likes this spinning, and she likes the person spinning it.
Finally he stops, and it is like a bombshell, this not spinning. Everything continues whirling around her for a few seconds till his face crystallizes in front of her. She lifts a trembling finger and traces the curve of his lips, feeling the bristles of his mustache tickle her. He bends down to her, and she deftly withdraws her finger and presents her face for him. He kisses her, and then it is like she is spinning again.
Everything disappears. Everything blurs. And all that is left is him, is her, are his lips against hers, is his tongue gently probing the inside of her mouth, are his hands slipping down her body, sending delicious tingles up and down. That is all she knows now.