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Show 155 "This beach is off limits, sweet Marion." "I know. No fires." She giggled again. "So don't light my fire, baby . . . You know, off limits means no people around." "That's what I thought before that damned horse came along." But she seemed to believe it now, for as I kissed her full, moist lower lip she grew heavy, sinking toward the sand. She sank to it, holding my hand, tugging me on down. For a moment I resisted, she bathed in moonlight and my phallus standing at attention before her, before all creation. Her hand tugged like the tide and I fell, an easy fall. My lips mumbled thanksgiving against her salty skin, over and upon her given beauty. There seemed something necessary in our bodies close together, in our hands upon one another, in our joining together. She met my lust with hers, moaning, and over her shoulder beside her wet hair I saw the perfect print of a shod horse. Then it faded out and I could see only a blur of light, a blaze of silver light. That orgasm seized me and shook me so violently that I realized for the first time, again, how serious a matter sex is. She knew. Her eyes held her tears and reflected the moon. "I can't seem to make it alone. Without him. I want to and mostly I have, but . . . There's times when . . . What's wrong with me that I can't make it alone?" "Nothing's wrong. Nobody can make it alone, Marion." "I should though. But it's been too long, too long." At the grief in her voice I touched her nose, kissed her cool cheek. She did not smile. We went back into the water to wash off the sand and it was so warm, it laved our bodies so gently, that we stayed to play, softly now, close to |