Even her religion’s threat of damnation could not stop her from longing for him, she loved the pagan man. ‘Upon that misty night In secrecy, beyon... such mortal sight Without a guide or light Than that which burned so deeply in my heart’ Her horse’s hooves pounded rhythmically on the dirt road. Every one of her senses seemed deliciously alive, she could smell the new grass, taste the moisture in the air, hear the smallest of night insects, felt the rough warmth of the cloak on her back. She. The first time couldn't last any sort of length, since we were both so primed to make up for that lost time of past suppression, in one flash of passion. Like the bright flare of the pan of antique photographers, we consumed our explosive lust. Steamy and sweaty, our bodies convulsed with the physical contortions and mental inflammation of cataclysmic climaxes. Orgasm seems so tame a word, to describe the paroxysms and constrictions of the whole human organism, which possessed our very being. More

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