Still impaled inside you, I'm drenched in your lustrous nectar and my eruption. Our hearts are concentrated thunder pressed together, calming so very ...lowly. You love keeping me inside as long as possible after, especially when on top. I've never asked why. We both know it's part of what binds us, the countless unspoken intimacies we share. The way your walls still sheathe, the heat that can never entirely ebb away, your weight on me, skin still feverish.... I want to be nowhere else. Your head. The Rev. Pierre LaMont. He had baptized Eric when he was a small baby. He had snow white hair, a long aristocratic nose and high thin cheeks. He brought with him a little maid to help Franchesca dress and get ready for her wedding day. She was blonde and plump with rosy cheeks and twinkling blue eyes.Franchesca slept late this morning as did Eric. The Reverend and the little maid had arrived late the night before and were each in their perspective rooms. They all dressed for the busy day ahead. More

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