The backroom was dimly lit, a sultry haven for unadulterated carnal pleasure. We pulled away sweaty and entwined, the taste of ambition still heavy on our tongues. He grabbed my hand, and the rapturous thrill of anticipation raced through my veins as I followed him towards a cosmic unknown. He kissed me hard, and my vision blurred. I saw no boundaries, just us, and an infinite expanse of pleasure. Bottoms up Truman Capote Bar, bottoms up indeed.