It gets off to a slow start. There were a couple of points where I wasn't sure whether omissions (like in the phrasing, "He pressed his lips to her long red hair spilled across the pillow" where the sentence scans slightly off because "spilled" could also be the operative verb) were stylistic or accidental, but given the competence with which the rest of the story is written I have to imagine it was stylistic.

The dialogue at first feels ever so slightly off and edgy, like Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants". I was slightly worried about whether there was going to be some sort of similar reveal about their relationship, but it's easy to get caught up in the flow of the story and forget about that. It picks up an almost... Tarentino-esque vibe, where the dialogue is excellent in that kind of stilted, punctuated way that doesn't seem entirely natural but doesn't lose any of its value for the artistic license.

The dialogue is certainly a key strong suit of the story, which is probably only natural since it focuses exclusively on these two fairly mundane lovers, serving as a celebration of that very element. The real strength, however, comes  as it draws to a close. The concluding two lines are simply astonishing, taking the whole endeavour from being simple erotica into the realm of literature. The closing line itself is a thing of sheer, utter beauty.