Jane Curtin

When he touched her breasts, they gave themselves up in quivering ecstasy, inviting his lips.

Her mouth was a fountain of delight.

And when he possessed her, they seemed to swoon together at the very borderland of life's mystery.

He stayed cushioned upon her, breathless, dazed and enervated, with his heart beating like a hammer upon her.

With one hand, she clasped his head, her lips lightly touching his forehead.

The other hand stroked with a soothing rhythm his muscular shoulders.

The growl of the thunder was distant and passing away.

The rain beat softly upon the shingles, inviting them to drowsiness and sleep, but they dared not yield.

The rain was over, and the sun was turning the glistening green world into a palace of gems.

Calixto on the gallery watched Alcide ride away.

He turned and smiled at her with a beaming face, and she lifted her pretty chin in the air and laughed out loud.

Bobino and Bebe trudging home stopped without at the cistern to make themselves presentable.

My, Bebe, what will your mama say?

You ought to be ashamed.

You ought not put on those good pants.

Look at them.

And that mud on your collar.

How you got that mud on your collar, Bebe?

I never saw such a boy.

Bebe was the picture of pathetic resignation.