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Click hereI was full of him, so deliciously full of him, it was the best, the best it could be, I was close to him as I could be, and I needed him... I needed him so much...
"Come for me," I cried, heedless of anything else but my desire for him. I bit his neck, shuddering as he arched up against me. "Fill me, fill me sweetheart, you're so good in me, I love having you in me so much," I begged.
He was moaning, gasping now, slick gorgeous cock driving in and out of me, my lips stretched on him, slick on him, my nipples hard against him. I forced myself up on my elbows, found his lips, and began to kiss him in a frenzy of need. He began to slam himself into me, an almost-painful sensation of over-fullness of my belly... and then I felt him groan, shudder under me, arch up, lifting me almost clear of the bed as he locked his arms around me again and began to throb deep inside me.
"Oh... oh..." I moaned. The hard, quick pulses were almost enough... almost... and I forced my hand down to me to find me and tease me the hair's-breadth more that I needed.
It took the briefest of touches, the smallest of nudges... and then my own body locked hard against his, every muscle uniting as he broke me, as I surrendered to the pleasure he had given me.
My orgasm lasted an eternity.
And then I lay there, spent, splayed and stretched over him, unable to summon the energy to move or to even try to salvage my bedding as his slowly-softening penis eventually slipped out of me, followed by the sticky rush of his come.
He lay beneath me; I could hear the ragged edge of his breathing and feel the hammering of his heart against my chest.
I simply closed my eyes, and turned my face, and basked like a lizard who'd barely survived winter and had just found the first real sunbeam of the year.
"Rachel?" he asked me, eventually.
"Mm," I breathed, unwilling to disturb my torpor.
"Sweetheart... are you... OK? Did I... hurt you?"
"No. I mean, yes... I'm OK, and no, you didn't hurt me. You may have stretched me out a bit with that delicious thing of yours... but I'm sure I'll survive," I added, smiling. I shifted, found a slightly more comfortable spot on top of him. "Don't mind me," I whispered. "Just... I'm really enjoying the sensations."
"What... sensations..."
"Of... being full of you. Of being like this with you. Naked, spent, sated....with nowhere to be and nowhere I'd rather be than here."
He tightened his arms around me, and gently kissed my neck. I sighed, squirming from the overload of pleasure.
"You melt me when you do that," I whispered.
"You melt me when you smile," he rumbled.
"We're going to need another shower, I suppose."
"Maybe. But for now... just let me hold you like this. Just a little longer."
So I closed my eyes, and sighed happily, and let him.
.:.
Days became weeks, weeks full of golden honeymoon glow, when I'd wake up beside him in one of our beds, depending on where we'd ended up. I'd awaken with him hard against me, even in his sleep, and mornings became a game of who'd wake whom by initiating. Sex lost its visceral shadows and became something I loved, a way for me to demonstrate with my body how much I adored him. As the weeks went by my desire for him only grew, and soon I was comfortable enough in my skin to let him have me wherever and whenver he wanted - though we did mutually declare my kitchen counter off-limits after we cracked it during an extremely energetic but badly judged morning quickie...
But, even better than the sex, even better than the mind-bending orgasms he could give me, were the simple touches - the slow way he'd rub his hands adjacent to my spine, the way he'd ease against me from behind and gently kiss the curve of my shoulder, the way he'd pass me and never fail to touch my arm, or my hip, or my bum.
I felt like I was walking on air. I felt like nothing could hurt me any more. His gentle presence became my Aegis, my ward against the darkness that still hung around the edges of things.
He began dragging me to shows. I met his friends - a wonderfully diverse crowd of men and women who swung in and out of his orbit. He'd introduce me to them as "My partner, Rachel," and each time he did so a few more flakes of ice and shadow melted away.
But most marvellous for me was how I'd be talking to someone, and would catch his eye from across a crowded space, and he'd always have a smile for me. And soon afterwards he'd come to me - often for no reason other than "To recharge," as he'd glibly put it. And I would never fail to melt, and I would never fail to fuck him silly when we got home. I felt a breathlessness around him, a deep-seated need to never let him question how important he was to me.
Because no matter how much he told me, and no matter how intimate we were, and no matter the days that became weeks that became months together, I never truly lost the fear that I would lose him.
But, in the meantime, weekends became long, wonderful durations of pleasure in which I'd gamely follow him on whatever crackpot expeditions he'd planned. I went mud-larking on the banks of the Thames, I went boating (and, once, inadvertently, swimming) at Henley. We went on a Christmas break to Amsterdam, reluctantly fed the midges at Loch Lomond on a madcap week-long drive around Scotland, and held hands one warm August night as the lights on the Eiffel tower were turned on.
And wherever we were, I'd watch him, and hold his hand, and luxuriate in his proximity, in his strength, and in the rich warm sound of his voice. I couldn't get enough of him, of this angel who'd chosen plain, broken old me.
On the frequent occasions that James and Helen came to dine with us, I could always feel Helen watching me, and him, and us.
"You're in love, aren't you," she whispered to me one night as she was leaving.
"Yes," I simply answered.
And she held my hand and squeezed it tightly, then brushed the little teardrops away from her eyes.
"Good, I'm glad," was all she said before she kissed me goodbye.
Our one year "anniversary" came and went, and I thought my life was complete.
I was so wrong that, in hindsight, it was funny.
.:.
"Rachel?" I heard him calling.
"In the bedroom, just drying my hair!"
"Dinner will be ready in five minutes, move that shapely and delectable bum of yours!"
"OK, OK, on my way, keep your shirt on..." I answered, smiling. Caleb did so love "my" kitchen, it was honestly sometimes hard to get him out of it and I was still amazed that I hadn't picked up a dress size or two thanks to his tendency to feed me.
"Don't be late," he called and I laughed. I decide to forgo my hair-dryer and simply wrapped my towel around my damp mane. I sauntered through to my living room and leaned against the wall, watching as he poured two glasses of what looked like rather expensive Champagne.
"Are we celebrating?" I said, amused. "Some new project for you?"
"Potentially..."
"Or is it just that the meal was difficult enough to make that we need some sort of ceremony to mark it?"
"It's not for the meal," he answered, softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Rachel... would you please... come here?"
Curious, I closed the distance between us. He took my hand, pulled me to him, and kissed me soundly. Then he shifted half a pace backwards. I stared up at him, suddenly and strangely unsettled by his expression.
"Caleb?" I said. "What is it? What's happened?"
"You mean the world to me."
"Um..."
"I think I fell for you that very first evening, when I watched you at Helen's wedding and dreamed of a world where someone like you would be interested in someone like me."
"You were dashing and wonderfully kind. I liked you even then. But... Caleb, what's going on? Something's going on, I know it is, I can smell it..."
"I want to spend my life with you," he said, softly.
"But... you are... we are..." I flailed, not understanding him at all. "Isn't what we have... good?"
"Yes. It's nearly perfect. I just... I don't want to just be your plus one any more, Rachel. I want... I want to be yours. Officially. Forever."
He reached into a pocket, and I clutched the counter as I felt the world start to go vague around me.
"Are... is..."
He pulled out a small royal blue jewellery case, opened it and turned it towards me.
I stared down at the simple slender silver band that nestled within, safe on its velvet bed.
"It's beautiful," I somehow managed, after some time.
"I asked Helen what you would like. She said this would be perfect. That anything larger or vulgar or ostentatious would bug you, but that this..."
"Would be... perfect. I'm going to wring her neck," I completed his sentence, largely on autopilot.
Then I shuddered, looked up at him, and took a painful, stabbing breath as all the past insecurities and fears came rushing back.
"Rachel? Sweetheart, what is it?"
"Love... are... are you sure about this? You... you can do so very much better than me..."
"Rachel," he quietly interrupted me. "No. Please, don't. That is the last time I want to hear you say that about yourself. I don't want anyone else. I want you. You have my heart, and my soul. I want to spend what years I have left on this earth with you by my side. You and you alone. Just you."
I could feel his hand shaking.
"Will you marry me, Rachel Fielding?" he softly asked me. "Please, say yes."
I stared up at my lover, at my friend, at this perfect creature who loved broken little me so much more than I deserved.
There was no question in my heart what my answer would be.
I reached out, wrapped my arms around him, and pulled myself to him.
"Yes. A million times over," I managed. "And then a million times over again, and again, and again..."
And then there was nothing more to say.
Just kisses to kiss, and tears to set free, and, at the end, a simple glass of exquisite bubbles to share with the man I loved.
-:- Epilogue -:-
"We're nearly done," Helen murmured into my ear.
I glanced briefly at the mirror, then away again.
I didn't recognise the strange creature that the glass reflected; I felt a moment's fear that I was about to suffer from some sort of dissociative event...
My daughter put a hand on my shoulder, and I shivered as she pulled me back to the present.
"Mum? Don't. You'll be fine. Just remember to breathe," she said.
"God... I'm... why am I so terrified?"
"Because you love him so much. It's a phenomenally stressful thing, Mum. You saw how I was freaking out when it was James and me, and we'd been together for ages..."
"Thank... thank you for being here for me..."
"Where else on earth would I ever be right now than right here with you?"
She pressed her cheek to mine, and I squeezed my eyes closed for a breath, for two.
"Now hold still for the finishing touches," she whispered. She opened a small bag, and began easing vibrant purple blossoms out of it.
"Helen? Are those..."
"Bougainvillea. Yes. I got them especially for you."
"Oh, Helen... sweetheart, those won't... they won't suit me at all..."
"Of course they will. They'll be perfect for you. Just like they were for me. Now sit still and behave while I do this last small thing for you."
My daughter's fingers were gentle and cool against my scalp, and I breathed in and out slowly as she wove the blossoms into the silvering gold of my tresses.
"There," she said. She stepped back. "Now. Now you're ready. Now you're perfect."
I snuck what was only meant to be a glance, then paused, staring at myself in the mirror.
"Oh," I breathed, when I could. "Oh Helen. You've made me... beautiful."
"You always were, Mum," she said, voice strangely hoarse. "You just never ever got the chance to see it like I could. Now stop. Stop or I'm going to cry and I've got at least five minutes more to get through first before I'm allowed to do that..."
She leaned in, kissed my forehead, and sniffed hard. "Breathe, breathe," she whispered - whether to herself or to me, though, I couldn't tell.
A knock at the door; my daughter sniffed once more, then turned away from me and opened it.
"Hey love, it's... Helen, are you OK?" I heard James say.
"Holding on. Just about. Can't talk. Love you. She's ready," my daughter answered, voice thick and unnatural to my ears. I heard her take a breath. "Mummy?"
"Yes?" I breathed, finally looking up from my reflection.
"Come on, time to go. He's waiting for you."
"You look beautiful, Mum," James added.
I rose unsteadily, and my son and daughter carefully arranged the abbreviated train of my dress so that it lay clear of my feet. I took a deep breath, then another. Helen passed me my bouquet, and I clutched it before me like a crucifix; a ward against the shadows. I let my daughter take my arm and lead me like a sleepwalker through the portal and along the parquet-floored, walnut-walled corridor to the double doors where Grant was waiting for us with a Cheshire-cat grin threatening to split his face in two.
"Breathe, mum," my girl whispered to me. "Just breathe. One foot in front of the other. Don't be scared. It's your day now. It's your time at last. Are you ready?"
Slowly I straightened, pushed my shoulders back and down, found the bedrock within me.
"Yes," I breathed, at last. "I'm ready."
She nodded to James and Grant and took her place by my side. The boys eased the doors open, and the golden voice of Billy Joel began to pour forth from the sound system as the guests turned and got their first look at me.
But I didn't see them. Not really.
I didn't take any notice of anyone other than him.
He stood at the end of the aisle, immaculate from his silver-speckled hair to the perfect creases on his morning suit, separated from me only by one final tear-blurred sea of colour and light.
He smiled at me, eyes crinkling up in that way I'd come to love so much.
"Let's go," I whispered.
"Let's go," my daughter echoed me.
She walked the sea of colour by my side, placed my hand in his and then, with one final kiss for love and luck, set me free.
- COMMENTS
Every word has a purpose, builds and adds colour and light to the wonderful picture that you paint. This is was simply beautiful. Thank you❤️
Yet another of your stories to add to my growing Wanda-domonated list of favorites. Superbly done. Words inadequate to describe the sublime effect of this particular tale.
She should write a memoir to keep the truth as a legacy for future generations.
Beautiful story.
The only negative point (in my personal opinion) is the immediate acceptance of its past.
It makes everything too easy.
Even in Pretty Woman, the guy asks himself questions, doubts..........which would seem normal to me.
Ya know, I'm getting tired of the workout my tear ducts get at the end of just about every one of your stories.
Well heck, what can I say that hasn’t already been said? I’ll think this is as close to a perfect story as I have ever seen here. No spelling or grammar mistakes, at least none I noticed. No
superfluous verbiage, every word just added meaning to the love affair. Bravo, Wanda, if this is your one hit, it’s a seventh-game-of-the-series, bases loaded, bottom of the ninth grand
slam home run. So congratulations.
100 stars, I wish. 5 stars because that’s the best I can do.
Dee
Just completed my second reading and loved this wonderful, painful, redeeming story all over again.
No one else does it as well as you.
Yank
What an absolutely beautiful and professionally written story - I won't even pretend to be able to to adequately express my heartfelt appreciation for your work. I so look forward to reading your other offerings . . . . 10/5
Bye the bye, I took the liberty of looking up your bio location at 49°52′22″N 6°26′44″W (Bishop's Rock Lighthouse). If true, I'm sure It affords you the peace and solitude which affords you the opportunity to produce such magnificent prose . . . .
Your characters set you apart from most other writers on this site. Theirs are two dimensional, yours are three dimensional.
I have just reread this wonderful romance, I am struck again by your magnificent use of words and descriptive powers.
You are one of my very select group of favourite authors.
A lovely story, well told. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of your works. 5*
What a wonderful story I've had tears in my eyes on more than one occasion finishing with them now it is a beautiful story of love and loss and a rebirth of oneself. Written with feeling by a writer of immense talent . I shall enjoy catching up with your back catalogue as well as your more recent offerings, and on that aren't we fortunate that you are still writing for us all to enjoy.
Fantastic story. Not sure how many times I read it now but it delights me every time. Will go through your other stories again over the next few days as I enjoy your style and talent.
Every once in a while, to read a really great romance, i read this again - and it never fails to bring happy tears and a lot of erotic ideas for my own life.
I was going to peruse this story, but after reading the comment from “JuanTwoNo” contributed about a year ago, I am afraid even to attempt that.
Vittorio Vittorossi
One of the very best romances I've read on this site! 5/5. So well written - "basked like a lizard who'd barely survived winter and had just found the first real sunbeam of the year." ! Loved that line.
Thanks for this!
u write so entrancingly beautifully leaving profound impact thank u so much 4 opportunity 2 savour indulge dream
You write quite well, with vivid characters and delightful stories. You are an expert at dialogue. Keep up the fabulous work!
Awesome ….. you delve into deepest darkest moments a soul should never be conflicted with or consumed in , the roller coaster runs his tracks and rattles my brain my heart my soul ….. WOW …. The final station, the end of the ride, colors tears laughing happiness love
Thank you, you’re amazing O H W ….. and soooo a gifted blessed writer 💝💝💝💝💝💝💝
This story sent me through an unexpected rollercoaster of emotions and passion! Well done! 5⭐️s!
Wow and Well Done AND Thank YOU 5***** and this is my second time of reading this story, by choice and on purpose I love this story.
I've tears rolling down my own face, a rather sappy grin involuntarily painting it with my reaction to the end. I loved it, plain and simple. I am a Stress and Trauma Specialist and I loved how you used the cow to represent trauma. I hope you don't mind me sharing that. Goodness, what a lovely story!
Beautiful story. I especially enjoyed your dialogue.There was an ease and a naturalness to it that I found exceptional. Writers of these kinds of stories tend to get wrapped in description and internal monologue. You avoided both and delivered a charming story.
My second reading also. A beautifully crafted story. Vivid with an excellent flow.
I’ve read this for the second time, knowing I read it once before. Before I signed up and was anonymous.
Having skeletons of shame in my own closet, this story helps me realize that maybe I shouldn’t feel that way about my life, rather, be proud of surviving and maybe thriving.
The beauty in this story it the authors portrayal that life is and can be beautiful regardless of one’s history.
Bravo!!!! Bravo!!!!
I couldn't comment the first time I read this. My emotions were all over the place. This was an emotional journey of two people, one of who broken and the other living his life a day at a time. The story was awesome, It was almost love at first sight. Rachel had her demons and finally found the release she needed for the many years she buried and lived with them. Caleb was the perfect man for the job of making Rachel whole.
I am glad you won with this. This was awesome, romantic, and cathartic in so many ways.
I can only say thank you.
Beautifully written. I read it a year ago and came back to read it again. Maybe it’s an annual thing.
Wanda, lovely story. Extraordinary writing and dialogue. Well worth ten stars!
How wrong I was! I had thought that the incomparable onehitwanda has gone off the boil, then I read this. Exquisite economical breathtaking writing, rich and layered characters, brilliant sharp dialogue, some of the most eciting descriptions of sex I have ever read. Thank you.
Remarkable literary experience mixed with a remarkable sex story!
Very enjoyable read!
First time I've read one of your works. Won't be the last. Absolutely lovely story. BardnotBard.
Eh heck - that a proper soppy chick romance and just what I needed. Snaffled it. TY
I really loved your story, even though I agree with Anonymous from 10 months ago that it would have been more realistic, and perhaps even more compassionate and wise, for Caleb to work with Rachel much more slowly, probably including therapy for her and them both, while still assuring her that he was with her for the long haul. I think it would be highly unlikely that she could get through all her trauma as quickly and relatively easily as portrayed. But, what the hey, suspension of disbelief right ? And sexual healing, so much sexual healing ! Otherwise, it is your story, at your pace and length. Great job.
Yet again you have written a really lovely tale! You have a terrific way of creating and developing your stories. You make it feel so real!
Thank you
What a wonderful story. Several kleenex worth. You certainly stoked the romantic in me. Vivid characters in a stunning plotline. No wonder you won the Month. While I'm in the US, I've walked the gardens you described with my now former wife. I was amazed by the beauty of the surroundings. I just found your story and will continue to read all your tales.
A master class in writing! I think this is your best yet. 5*? Not enough!
A masterclass in story writing - moving, engrossing, sexy and a happy-ever-after ending. Damn, I wish I was half as good.
Another emotional and sexual knockout of a story from you. 5 stars and favorited.
I'm gonna have to buy a lot more boxes of tissue paper. You write the most incredibly emotionally captivating stories, and you seem to write them with such effortless ease. I'm jealous!
Well. The sex was superbly written; but I was content to wait for it. "It had been... nice... to have another breath in the flat once more." Writing is superb; especially the dialog. And the inner monologue. I appreciate the tension created by the balance between Rachel's shame and shut down over her past, and her log time need created by self-enforced celibacy. Caleb is perhaps a bit too perfect, but a pretty good primer for how to heal. This could be a longer romance with the psychological shifts teasing out and backing up for both of them. Fab writing. I hope you have something between the covers IRL, with royalties.
Wonderful story and I think your most well written. For example,
"Of... being full of you. Of being like this with you. Naked, spent, sated....with nowhere to be and nowhere I'd rather be than here."
Really beautiful prose, so emotion packed. Really like the way you wrote this story, I think it's your best, and that is a high bar. Thanks for this story.
You continue to make a lie out of your screen name. This, all 7 pages, is delightful, stirring, romantic, erotic, and thoroughly a "hit."
Wanda firstly congratulations on the well deserved award. I had read this when you first shared it,but somehow had forgotten about it. I usually go back and reread stories that I enjoy on a regular basis. This story was so emotionally charged, which you are so good at. The subject of how she had provided for Helen and herself had to be one of the hardest things that I have ever read. The support that Caleb showed her was awesome. You made me cry, you made me smile, you made me laugh. All things you do so well with most of your stories. I thank the fates that I read the first story of yours, Elysium was the title. It had been nominated for an award as well and another story I wanted to vote for was as well. I felt it only fair to read your story as well. That was my introduction to your wonderful writing. I have said so many times before thank you for sharing your gift with us. 5*
Well well. This story still roams around my mind many months after I read it for the umpteenth time, and now it wins a competition. About bloody time!! Brilliantly written and absolutely believable. As with all your stories the characters play out perfectly. Wish I could do that. Now, Snowdrop should be crowned as one of the best ever on this site or anywhere.
Keep it up girl! Word magic!
Congratulations! I'm not surprised you won a contest with this absolutely perfect love story!
I just saw that you won a contest for this beautiful story. Congratulations!
Practically perfect! Not much more that I can add, other than to say thank you, for both writing and posting.
Regards, Ppfzz.
Is there such a thing as a perfect romance? I for one just love this story. Is it okay for a guy to love a romance? Let's hope so.
I have been fortunate enough to see Phantom (but not from those seats) at Her Majesty's Theater, but no Rachel seated beside me there and am poorer for it.
Norcal62
I agree, except when we are talking about bike gussets, which I think would be acceptable.
Then, of course, we have the cum abomination. Thankfully, I haven't seen it with UK writers, but I think I saw it once in a Canadian contribution. But Commonwealth authors handle the language more to my liking. Sigh.
Totally magnificent. The characters are plausible and convincing — so real I want to meet them. I love that this is about real adults, with real wounds and hard won courage. Bravo, bravo!
They don't get any better than this. The people are real, plausible humans, the plotting is powerful, the writing is flat out superb. What a writer!
Please, all LW British authors, come together, and in a group, resolve to never again write about mouth curls, lip curls, and the like. It make my brain curdle to read those descriptions. A mouth can have a smile. It doesn't need to "curl" into a smile, or, God forbid, a sneer or other mouth action. After you've all come to that agreement, swear on your King's crown, that you will somehow drop the term, "gusset" from your vocabularies. What a mood killer that word is.
What a beautiful love story. Thank you for sharing your gift in writing wonderful stories.
You are officially my favourite author on this site. This was even better than all the romance books I’ve read over the years. It was like watching a movie. Perfection!⭐️
Marvelous storytelling! This was a perfect blend of romance, pathos and erotica. Your achievement is all the more notable in that the story was written in the first person; something that in the hands of most authors becomes stilted and monotonous. Bravo! 5 stars
Another tear-jerker. Beautiful story.
On a side note, I loved the trauma / cow analogy. Glibness hiding, or maybe enhancing, the profundity, and hilariously simply and well put. Up there with Terry Pratchett in those terms. Incredibly impressed.
What a quandary! You have accrued so very much goodwill in a name that is utterly, almost comically unsuited to you. I had you listed among my favorite authors, but hadn't revisited my list of favorites for awhile when I discovered how productive a year 2022 has been for you. I'm taking the 2022 vintage in alphabetical order. />
Yours is a singular talent. I place you in a pantheon that includes Maonaigh and JCMcNeilly. Your writing is technically perfect (no small achievement, that!) but you plumb the human heart and soul. That's what makes your descriptions of your characters' lovemaking so evocative and uplifting. />
Rachel is broken. She accepted the cracks and fissures sacrificially for the sake of her child. Already captivated by this magnificent woman, Caleb instantly appreciated what an integral part Rachel's sacrifice played in shaping who and how she is. As Leonard Cohen put it, the cracks let the sun shine through.
Mum, when used as a name, like all names, should be capitalized.
Signed: Another Harsh Critic.
Simply splendid storytelling with the perfect blend of romance, love and sex. The sexual aspects of the story enhanced the overall work rather than overwhelming it. Thank you for your sensitive approach to a loving relationship with the sexual pleasures of said relationship an expression of the term “making love.”
Once again a fine ,tale written with exceptional skill. One day when I grow up I want be able to convey emotion through words as well as you do. Superb.
"one hit" wanda. Yeah, sure. As we say on this side of the pond, knocked it out of the park..... as usual. The frequency of your home runs makes them practically monotonous. :)
You are such a talented author, by far the best of those who post their stories on this website. I've read most of your back catalogue now, without exception they stand out for their quality.
Thank you so much for sharing, you can see from the many comments below how appreciative your readers are - you can certainly count me as a fan.
More London-based stories please (he types selfishly, having lived in London for many years) ;-)
A truly wonderful story, so beautifully written and such a pleasure to read.
Beautifully and eloquently written. The descriptive prose and emotionality of the story was full on and refreshing. Naysayers be damned! ;-)
How can I possibly say what wells up within me right now from reading this? I don't know if it's it's possible. If words are there to do it, I'm not sure that they've yet been formulated for proper transference from human psyche to human tongue. I can only try..
The wondrous beauty of the inner spirit scabbed over and hidden by the superatiing wounds of life and sometimes apparantly necessary evil choices of life when no others appear to avail themselves, and those themselves walled away from prying eyes and judgemental minds until it seems there is no entryway admitting of the possibility of letting the beauty out for fear of the exposure of the other--- that may be and I think is the greatest evil ever worked on the human mind and spirit to keep the inherent beauty forever hidden and unacknowledged until it withers and dies and we with it. Love and courage. These two are the attributes most necessary to free the spirit and its innate beauty. That, I think, is what was really meant by "Know you the truth and the truth shall set you free." Your story epitomizes that. Thank you.
For someone who hadn’t had any sex, including masturbation, for over 20 years and who carried a ton of psych baggage from her days of prostitution, she certainly jumped his bones rather quickly. It seemed so out of character. It would have been far more believable if he’d shown at least a little reservation upon hearing her background and if she’d taken more time before tumbling into the sack. 4*