The moaning over drove the guitarist on to keep massaging and touching the Anthean, wondering where Ziggy was sensitive regarding his feet and legs. Moving up the ankles, he began gently smoothing his fingers and thumbs around Ziggy's calves, gently pushing his digits against the cool, slick skin, getting traction against the soft flesh. Small slick sounds were now filling the hotel room as Mick worked.

"I love it that my touch makes you feel so good, love. Ever since the train journey all I've wanted to do is touch you."

Even before the train---on stage, in the dressing room, everywhere. But Mick hadn't summoned up enough courage back then.