Journeys
Lynn

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Chapter Five

In spite of no sleep at all, Vincent hovered at the window all the way to Akami.  The chance to see Africa, even only from the air, took easy precedence over sleep.  "I can sleep tomorrow.  The Nile is below us, the great plains of central Africa, the Ruwenzori that the ancients called the Mountains of the Moon, the jungles of the Congo.  Who could sleep?"

Catherine could, and did for a few minutes here and there, but she also was drawn to the window for much of the time.  She was stunned by the scholarship Vincent showed.  For a man who had never left New York City, his knowledge of Africa was unbelievable.  He was familiar enough to be able to name mountain ranges and lakes as they passed over them, where Catherine was completely at a loss, despite a very expensive education.

The day passed too quickly for Vincent; they were at Akami by late afternoon, and Devin landed the Lear with no trouble.  He left them in the plane while he went to get a Rover to take them to their bush camp.

Vincent stretched out on the sofa, exhausted by his lack of sleep and the excitement of the things he’d seen.  While he slept, Catherine fixed them something to eat, and then sat across from him, watching him.  She was glad when Devin’s return made it impossible to touch him, to lie down beside him.  Vincent heard the car also, and his eyes opened, catching her staring at him.  He sat up and smiled at her.  "Sorry, I guess I haven’t been much company, have I?"

"You needed to sleep.  We’ll eat before we leave, all right?  Devin’s back; I guess you heard him."  She was slightly flustered at having been caught watching him sleep.  And he knew it, as he knew most things that went through her head, and was amused by it.  Sometimes it was a little bit uncomfortable that he was in such close touch with her emotions.

When Devin came in they ate a cold supper, and then packed up to move to the bush camp.

"Shall I bring food, Devin?  My gosh, I never thought to ask about it, are we going to starve out there?"

"No, no, M’bago wouldn’t do that to his guests.  The camp is fully stocked with everything we’ll need while we’re there.  Just bring what clothes you’ll need; everything else is taken care of.  This is a first class operation we’ve got going here, you know."  Devin grinned at them. "Come on, we’ll be able to watch the sun go down at the overlook.  There’s a waterhole, and at sundown is a good time to see animals.  Get yourselves in gear, and let’s go!"

In a few minutes the car was packed and they got in.  "What’s this for?"  Catherine was horrified to find a rifle in the front seat.

"That’s to save our skins, if we run into something that doesn’t want us here."  Devin was matter-of-fact about it.

"Do you expect that to happen?"  She was scandalized at the thought.  "Surely we won’t have to use that thing!"

"I devoutly hope not.  The chances are very small, particularly if we stay in the Rover.  But I’d hate to die out here because I was too civilized to carry a gun.  This isn’t a civilized place.  Vincent, I’m going to give you a couple of lessons in the use of a revolver, too."

Catherine turned to Vincent.  She was sure he would refuse.  "Vincent?"

"He’s right, Catherine.  The animals are wild; this is not a zoo, and we must do what is necessary.  I will learn."

*********

Sundown was a good time to see animals; there were elephants at the waterhole.  The overlook was well camouflaged, on the top of a bluff overlooking the waterhole, and the approach was uphill from the opposite side.  Devin cautioned for silence as they neared the top.  They moved silently and slowly up to the observation point, and all three of them stopped, holding their breath, as they looked down on seven mighty elephants standing knee deep in the water, snorting and blowing and squirting water over their backs

Vincent reached blindly for Catherine’s hand, not breathing.  When she looked at him, there were tears running down his face.  She squeezed his hand, blinking back a few tears of her own.

They stayed until dusk.  A few small antelope, and a large number of zebra and wildebeest came after the elephants had drunk their fill and moved slowly away.  And just before the dark closed down completely two giraffe ambled up to the pool and spread their legs wide to stretch their heads down to the water.

*********

The bush camp wasn’t exactly what Vincent had envisioned, and Catherine agreed.  "I thought tents, not an outpost of Holiday Inn!"

Although there was no electricity and no running water, they weren’t missed.  There was a reservoir on the roof of the lodge, and each bedroom had a bath with a shower.  The water wasn’t heated, but if one showered in the afternoon or early evening the sun had warmed the water in the reservoir to an acceptable temperature.  There were four bedrooms with comfortable double beds, and a fully equipped kitchen, with a bottled gas stove and refrigerator.

Cooking was a group effort, and there was much laughter over the results.  The meat in the freezer wasn’t exactly Texas beef, and there was wild speculation over exactly what kind of animal had provided dinner.  The men found out in short order that cooking was not Catherine’s forte, and Vincent took charge of the cuisine after the second day.  Devin said, "Catherine, you go and rest.  We’ll cook; we want to live to get home!"

They packed sandwiches every morning, and spent the day in the Rover.  Devin had spent three weeks in this same place several years before, and he proved to be an excellent guide.   They came home to the bush camp at night tired out.  After supper had been disposed of they sat around the firepit in the cool of the evening, watching the flames and drinking tea for only an hour or so, before retiring to their beds.

The animals were a wonder.  The highlight of the first few days was a glimpse of a leopard, which Catherine and Vincent both saw, and Devin missed.  "God, I’m really getting the short end of this deal.  I do all the hard work, make all the arrangements, fly the damn plane for endless hours, and you see a leopard.  I’ve never seen a leopard.  You can walk home!"  He grumbled about the leopard for three days.

They saw many lions, some lying beside the road as if waiting for someone to take their picture.  Giraffe, several kinds of antelope and seemingly endless numbers of zebra and wildebeest, along with the lions, became an ordinary sight after a few days.  One day they saw a herd of Cape buffalo in the distance, but on Devin’s advice made no effort to get closer.  He said buffalo were notoriously fearless and ready to go to war.

The most beautiful sight, which Catherine enthusiastically photographed, was a cheetah sitting on top of a huge boulder looking out over the plain, with a cerulean sky as his backdrop.

There was a helper who could be trusted to develop pictures with discretion, and so she took many pictures of Vincent also.  She was enchanted by the sight of him, beautiful and strong, standing in the sunlight, and she snapped pictures until he laughed at her.  "You’ve seen me!  Look, there’s a giraffe, take his picture!"

Vincent was enthralled by the experience of sun, wind, open air, long vistas, the world in the daylight, as much as by the sights they saw.  He stayed outside from daylight until full dark, drinking up sunlight like an intoxicating brew.  As Catherine watched him reaching for every moment of daylight, she had to make a strong effort to keep herself from thinking of him going back to the tunnels, to live in the gloom forever.  It hurt her to think that, and it hurt her also to know that he must be thinking about it too.

On the fourth day, Devin took the Rover back to the Reserve Headquarters to visit with his friend M’bago.  As they sat around the fire on the preceding evening, he had said,  "I’m leaving early, I’ll be back around noon, but don’t wait lunch for me."

*********

Vincent heard the Rover long before Catherine did.  He got up.  "There he is at last."

Catherine sighed.  "Thank heavens!  He’s four hours late."

"I’ll go to meet him.  Can I ask you to put on some water, Catherine; we’ll have tea.  Better pour a scotch for Devin, now that I think about it.  He hates tea."

"He does?"  Catherine was horrified.  "Why didn’t you tell me that before, Vincent?  The poor man, I’ve been putting it in front of him about six times a day!"

Vincent chuckled.  "It was good for him.  And I wanted to see how long he’d stand it before he said something.  I’ll see you in a little while."

Vincent walked the short distance to the end of the road and stood waiting for the Land Rover’s approach.  In a few minutes it pulled up, the afternoon sun blazing off the windshield as it stopped.  Vincent moved around the car to greet Devin, and found himself instead dumbstruck, face to face with a complete stranger.

The man climbed down from the Land Rover and put out his hand, smiling.  He said, "M’bago Kalemombe.  You must be Vincent." in an impeccable British accent.  Vincent, stunned, automatically put out his hand in return, and M’bago shook it with decision.

"Devin?"  Vincent felt a cold wind down his back.  He knew this couldn’t have been Devin’s plan.

"He’s all right.  He got into a slight disagreement with a warthog and had to have a few stitches.  Actually, about sixty-five.  But he’s fine.  He’s sleeping now; the vet gave him a shot.  I knew you’d worry when he didn’t come back.  I hope I’m not causing undue anxiety, but I couldn’t think of how else to let you know."

"No, no…thank you for coming.  Will you come back to the lodge and have a cup of tea?"  Vincent was in the grip of a feeling of unreality.  How did it happen that he was standing in the bush in Southern Africa, offering tea to a stranger who accepted his physical differences without the slightest sign of surprise?  "Did…did Devin tell you?  Did he warn you?"  Vincent had lost a good deal of his equanimity in this astonishing circumstance.

"Warn me?  Oh, about how you look?  No."

"Well, then I have great respect for your self-possession."  Vincent smiled his small smile, beginning to recover from his confusion.

"What is, is.  The world is full of things I didn’t expect to see."  M’bago smiled, a brilliant grin that transformed his features.  "I encounter them every day."

Vincent knew why Devin trusted this man.  M’bago radiated an air of serenity and good will that Vincent felt washing over him almost the way Catherine’s emotions flooded through him.  Aside from Catherine, only Father had touched so directly on his empathic sensitivities.  Vincent knew without any doubt that with this man his secret was safe.

M’bago was a big man; their strides matched as they walked back to the bush camp.  As they entered the clearing, Catherine emerged from the lodge and turned to greet Vincent.  She saw M’bago and stopped in mid stride.  "Oh!"  Then, immediately, "Devin?"

"He’s all right.  Slightly damaged, but nothing that won’t heal."  M’bago smiled his beautiful smile, and Catherine was reassured that this man would do them no harm even before she turned to Vincent.

"It’s all right,"  He reassured her. "I know.  I can feel him."

Catherine was astonished.  "Really?"

"Yes.  Not like you, but he’s there."

M’bago smiled again.  "I know also.  I can feel you," to Vincent, "and you also, a little," to Catherine.  "You are Ms. Chandler.  M’Bago Kalemombe."

They shook hands, and Catherine said,  "Catherine, please."

"All right, Catherine.  So…we have this…unusual sense…in common.  Did I hear someone say something about tea?"  His smile turned to a grin.  "Then we have that in common as well."

They sat down in the camp chairs around the fire pit, now cold in the heat of the day.  Catherine poured tea, and then asked, "Please, tell us what happened to Devin."

"He was just taking a little walk, and he ran into a mama warthog with her brood.  Mama took violent exception to his presence, and he sustained an injury to his…right thigh I think; yes, the right one.  It’s not a serious injury, very shallow, her tusk only caught him a glancing blow, but the vet took sixty-five stitches to close it, and he lost a lot of blood.  He couldn’t stand on the leg right after it happened; he had to shoot her before she could do more damage."

Both Catherine and Vincent looked sorry to hear this news.  M’bago smiled.  "I know; he was devastated that he had to do it.  When he staggered into the compound, bleeding like mad, the only thing he said before he fainted was ‘Warthog.  I had to shoot her.  Babies, go get ’em.’  Then he passed out.  Now we have five tiny baby warthogs.  I love to have baby animals to raise; it’s no hardship for me, and there are many warthogs in the Reserve.  More than we want, actually.  The babies will probably be shipped to zoos.  Confinement in a modern zoo is not hard on some kinds of animals, and warthogs do very well there.  They’ll live longer than they ever would in the wild, also."

They talked for three hours, some of that time about the empathic phenomenon between them, but the conversation ranged widely.  M’bago spoke at some length about the park and his ambitions for it, and of his fears for its future.  "There isn’t enough money, of course. There never is for conservation of things that now belong in the past.  The animals here are part of Africa’s past that most of Africa is trying hard to forget, but not I.  I will continue to try to preserve what is here until Africa is self-confident enough to appreciate its past, not denigrate it."

As M’bago spoke eloquently of his difficulties, Catherine’s thoughts went back to her meeting with Eliot, and how she had told him to throw himself into something purely for the sake of his self-respect.  She knew that he’d be very much impressed with M’bago; perhaps this would be the project.  She filed the notion away in her mind for action later.

When M’bago rose to go, he apologized for taking up their time, and Catherine laughed, shaking her head.  "Time is what we have here.  Time seems to have slowed the day we got here.  We have loved every minute of our stay, and it has been counted by minutes.  There is something wonderful to see in every one.  Although some things are more…desirable than others.  You have spiders here bigger than my worst nightmares, and they’re everywhere!  But I’m even learning to look at them without shuddering."

"Ah, you do truly appreciate my land, the beautiful things and the…merely interesting ones."  He grinned at her.  "I’m so pleased to hear it."

They walked back with him to the Rover.  "Dr. Uma, the vet, thought that forty-eight hours’ rest was imperative for Devin.  He lost quite a good deal of blood.  We’ll see what Doc thinks by the day after tomorrow.  He’s a little concerned about infection;  there are some strange bugs out in the bush, and some of them are resistant to antibiotics.  If Doc wants to keep him longer I’ll come out to let you know how he’s doing.  You’ll see me again anyway, so I won’t say a final goodbye."

"I hope not,"  Vincent said quietly with a serious look.  "We are friends, are we not?"

The affinity between them, multiplied by the empathic connection, assured that each knew the other’s feeling.  M’bago nodded, his face as serious as Vincent’s.  "Yes.  Yes, we are friends."

Just before he got into the car, Catherine made a diffident request.  "M’bago?  If it’s not something that you shouldn’t do for the sake of the animal, maybe you’d bring one of the babies with you when you come back?"  She did want to see a baby warthog..

"I will be delighted to do that, and the baby will be very happy.  The little ones love any attention they can get."  M’bago smiled, shook hands with both of them, then got into the Rover and drove away, waving a hand over his head as he went.

Vincent turned and took Catherine’s hand as they began the walk back to the lodge. "I hadn’t thought to find a friend here."  He shook his head in bemusement.  "How strange."

**************
 Dinner was unusually silent.  When they finished they took their last stroll of the day to the to the overlook.  The sun was already behind the trees, the shadows were long, and the plains below were nearly empty of game.  In the far distance they saw the heads of giraffe moving over the tops of the trees and a few small antelope were crossing quite close by, but it was too dark to identify their species.  The two sat on a bench hand in hand, without conversation.  Both were intensely aware of the night ahead, when they would be completely alone.

"It’s almost dark.  Let’s go back."  Vincent stood up and held out his hand to her.  "I want to…I’ve got something to say to you."

He built a fire when they got back to the camp.  Catherine watched him with her usual pleasure in his economy and grace of movement, waiting patiently to hear what he had to tell her.

He sat down across from her, and picked up a stick that had fallen out of the fire.  While he poked the logs with it, he began to speak without looking up at her.  "Catherine, if it is your wish, as it is mine…may I come to your bed tonight?"

When she didn’t answer, he looked up, alarmed at her silence.  As the fire blazed up, he saw that tears were streaming down her face.  Her throat was completely closed; she couldn’t answer him.  He was around the fire in a second; he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap and cradled her in his arms, rocking her a little.  "Oh, Catherine, my love, don’t cry.  I know, I know, I’ve waited so long…too long, but I give up, Catherine, I surrender.  I want you beyond all reason; I can’t do it any longer.  Please, oh please, let me come to your bed tonight.  I want you to be my lover.  I want to kiss your body as I kiss your mouth; I want to put my hands on you…everywhere."  As he held her he continued to whisper to her of his love and his longing while tears rolled down her face.

Her tears slowly quieted.  After a little while she turned her face up to his to be kissed, and he kissed her for the first time without any restraint at all, moving from tenderness almost to violence, as his need dictated.  Catherine responded in kind, giving back kiss for kiss through all the elements of his desire, thrilling him with the ardor of her response to his fiercest moves.

But Vincent’s nature was not violent, in spite of his misgivings.  As their lovemaking deepened and he began to relax into the belief that this was really going to happen at last, his kisses softened and gentled to the intense, loving tenderness that characterized him in all his actions.

Catherine was lost in his lovemaking.  When he lifted her in his arms finally, and laid her down on her bed, she was conscious only of the feel of him against her, his body, his hands…his mouth.  He sat on the edge of the bed, bending over her to kiss her.  Her hands reached up and moved over him, searching blindly for openings in his clothing.  "Your skin, I want to touch your skin…" she murmured into his ear.  Without a word, he straightened and pulled his shirt over his head with one smooth motion, baring himself to the waist.  Then he leaned over her again, his mouth touching her face, her neck, moving over her skin while a soft growl rumbled deep in his chest.

"I want to see!  Vincent, I want to see you.  …Lights…" He reached for the lantern beside the bed and switched it on, turning it on its end.  The light bounced off the ceiling, giving a soft radiance to the whole room.  "Yes…yes…"  Her hands came up to bury themselves in the thick mat of his chest hair.  She stroked him, feeling the contours of his muscles, sliding her hands over him, reveling in the contact with his bare body, and the sight of it at last.  And it was more beautiful even than she had dreamed.  "You are so beautiful…" she whispered.

His only answer was that soft rumbling growl.  He sat perfectly still, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, just feeling her hands on him, feeling her touch on his skin at last, letting his body luxuriate in the sense that her hands were on him and that it was all right.

His head came down then to look at her, and his hands began to unfasten her shirt.  When it was unbuttoned to the waist he pulled it open and his hand came up to touch the rising nipple of one breast.  Then both hands moved to curve around her breasts as his head came down to kiss her once more.

Catherine put her arms around him and her hands moved over his muscled back, the feel of him so wonderful to her, so long wished for.  He lifted his mouth from hers, and she made a little sound of distress, "No …" but her back arched and her eyes shut in rapture as his mouth moved down her throat and fastened gently on her breast.

Vincent’s breath was coming fast and hard as his mouth closed over her nipple.  Catherine cried out as he drew it farther into his mouth, sucking gently, making his teeth felt, his tongue never still.  One hand was under her, lifting her body to meet his mouth; his other hand moved lower, stroking, rubbing, sliding over her stomach as far as the waistband of her pants.  After a few minutes, his hand pushed at her pants.  "Get this off…get it off you…I want to touch you, now…now, Catherine!"

His need was urgent, and his voice showed it.  She began to fumble with buttons and zippers.  His hands moved over hers: "Let me, I’ll do it," and he had her pants peeled off her in a few seconds, then he stood and stripped himself of the rest of his clothes.  He stood for a moment then, looking down at her, drinking in the sight of her naked and longing for his touch.  And she looked at him, tall and commanding, his body perfect in the soft light of the lantern, and her whole body thrilled.

"Come, come here to me, I want you…"  She raised her arms, begging for his lovemaking.  "Oh, please…"

He lay down almost on top of her, his leg between hers, his surging penis pressed tightly to her hip.  "Catherine …I need…I need…"  He was inarticulate in his desire.  His hand slid over her body touching her breasts, sliding lower to caress her belly, then lower to pause at the triangle of hair at her groin.  His fingers curled into that place that he had wished for and dreamed of for so long, and he moaned as he felt the heat and wetness that spoke of her desire.  His fingers moved gently, careful of his nails, and she cried out and lifted her hips into his hand.

Her hand pressed down between them then, reaching for his surging erection.  Vincent stilled for a moment as he realized what she wanted, then he moved away from her, giving her access to him.  When her hand curled around his penis he cried out softly, his head thrown back, his eyes closed.  But after a couple of minutes he lifted himself up suddenly, turned and came down on top of her, his mouth reaching for hers, his arms sliding under her to hold her against him.  He moved until his knees were between hers, and began to separate her legs with gentle pressure.  "Now, Catherine, it has to be now!"  He was breathing in short gasps, and long tremors ran over his body.

"Yes, now, I’m ready, love…now."  Her knees bent, and her legs came up around him, holding him tightly, making him gasp with surprised pleasure.  He found that his throbbing penis was at the portal of her womanhood, and suddenly his movement slowed.  His arms were under her, he leaned on his elbows above her with both hands cradling the back of her neck.  His mouth came down on hers in slow motion, and he kissed her softly.  Then his mouth moved over her face, as he slowly, slowly, began to press himself into her.  Catherine made a low noise as she felt him sliding into her, a small moan of ultimate pleasure.  Vincent was still making his soft growling rumble, a sound of joy and excitement as he found himself in reality in that place where his dreams had taken him so many times.

He stopped when he was fully inside her to look into her face, to make sure that she was all right.  She smiled at him and reached up to kiss him, and the kiss was at once reassurance and invitation to continue.  The heat and slickness of her interior were unbelievably wonderful, unbelievably arousing to him.  When Catherine’s hips lifted in a small movement, impatient to feel him moving within her, he cried out in pleasure, then picked up the movement quickly, beginning an almost involuntary rhythm and gasping as he felt the friction of her tightly clasping sheath.

He had no conscious design, and no need to think about it.  His body took him entirely, and he moved in her with long smooth strokes, feeling the sensation growing more ecstatic with each one, feeling the slick heat of her, knowing that this was Catherine, that his body was making her moan and writhe with pleasure under him, that she shared his ecstasy.

Then Catherine spoke brokenly, "Oh love…it’s too much…God, I’m coming now…I can’t…"  Her confession of uncontrollable excitement pushed him to the edge.  He watched her face take on an expression almost of pain as her climax approached, and he felt the swelling and gathering of his own orgasm overwhelming his faltering effort at control.  In a moment they came to climax together, both crying out in the extremity of their pleasure.  Long moments passed as both were convulsed in passion’s grip, then the involuntary motions slowed, and finally stopped altogether, as their bodies began the slow descent into consciousness again.

They lay without moving for some time.  Vincent’s body recovered before his mind lifted itself out of the emotional storm engendered by what had just happened.  His breathing was slowed and his heart rate back to normal by the time he had his first conscious logical thought, and that was that he had not done anything violent.  The swelling excitement of the act just completed had made control impossible, but his uncontrolled reaction had been one of tenderness and care for Catherine.

His care for her had apparently prompted him to roll his weight off her before he collapsed, although he had no memory of doing so.  He lay beside her, and she was pressed tightly to his side, one leg raised over his hips.  Catherine’s eyes opened while he looked down at her; she smiled beatifically at him.  "Oh, Vincent, I love you so much, and you are so wonderful, and I am so happy!"

He reached over to kiss her softly and lingeringly.  "I adore you with every atom of my being.  You are the most beautiful, the most desirable…I can’t believe yet that you want me.  How does it happen that I’m lying here with your body pressed against me, with freedom to touch you, to stroke and kiss and make love to you?"  Then his brow wrinkled with a sudden thought.  "You are all right?  I didn’t…nothing hurt you, or…frightened you?"

Catherine stretched luxuriously, and snuggled closer.  "I never felt this good before in my life, and…frightened me?  What could frighten me?"

He shook his head, smiling down at her.  "Nothing could frighten you, I don’t believe, but I thought…well," his eyes fell from hers.  "Well…I…growled!"

She closed her eyes, smiled and snuggled closer yet.  "I know.  I loved it."

"Catherine, you look…downright self satisfied!"

"I am.  I knew you’d be a wonderful lover, and I was so right, and the growl was the icing on the cake."  Then she looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle.  "I haven’t asked you…was it all right for you?"

"You’re fishing.  If it had been any more ‘all right’ I don’t think I’d have survived it."  He said nothing for a moment, looking down at her with laughter in his eyes, but his face became serious as he continued.  "I love you with my whole heart and soul, and my adoration of you does not depend on your body, but oh, Catherine, I do love having you in my arms as well as in my heart."  He looked down at her with tears welling in his eyes.  "To have your body for my own is the most unbelievable, most incredibly wonderful thing that could happen to me.  This trip is a lifetime thrill for me, but it is nothing compared to the joy of feeling your body enclosing me and watching your face as we make love."

He began to kiss her then, leisurely covering every inch of her face and her neck, and then beginning to move down her shoulders.  As he neared her breasts, he looked up for a moment.  "Uh, I don’t know…there’s something that I don’t remember being covered in the literature.  How soon…when is a reasonable time to…repeat this wonderful thing?"

Catherine smiled at him.  "Well, Vincent…now would be a good time, if you’re able…yes, I can feel that you’re able, and believe me, my love, I’m more than willing."

************

He woke sometime in the middle of the night to find that they were still intimately connected.  They had fallen asleep twined together, and now Catherine lay on top of him, her head tucked under his chin, her weight a negligible burden.  His heart swelled with the joy of her closeness, her love, and most of all her utter trust in him when he hadn’t trusted himself.  As he thought about the hours just past he knew that she had been right from the beginning.  The agony of the previous years had been the product of his own self-doubt, and he looked back on those years now with regret for the unnecessary pain he had caused them both.

His arms tightened around her in an unconscious reaction to his thoughts, and she stirred, but didn’t wake.  However, the feel of her body moving against him even slightly was aphrodisiac enough.  He felt his penis stir, still warmly enclosed in her body, and embarrassment clutched him.  He removed himself gently from her, without waking her.  She’ll think I’m going to be after her twenty-four hours a day!  And then he smiled.  Well, I probably will, at least for a while, but she hasn’t complained so far.  She seems to have a good deal of enthusiasm for this…activity…herself.  He looked at her sleeping form with love and with a certain amount of amusement.  And then he was astonished at himself, that he could be so casually amused at her.  Everything is different now.  This is a whole new level of intimacy that I didn’t know existed.  I wish she’d wake, I want to talk.

As he thought this, she stirred.  But all thought of talk left his mind as she opened her eyes, smiled sleepily at him and said,  "Hello.  Wanta make love?"

"Yes.  Oh yes, I do."  And it began again.
 

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