Chapter 5
I broke off there because we had to move Moth. The wind had backed to southwest and was kicking up, and if there was a gale on the way, we would have found ourselves on a lee shore. One of the reasons that we stopped at Amorgos in the first place is that the port spreader worked loose. I repaired that during our first day at anchor, of course, but r wasn't entirely happy with the repair, and I certainly didn't want to have to claw off during a gale with a questionable spreader. As it turned out, the front passed easily enough-Force 5 at the most-and we needn't have moved, but I am just as happy we did. We're making for Crete now, there to replenish our supplies. Crete will probably be our last stop on this shake-down cruise. We'll return to the Piraeus from there, make our last arrangements and lay on our last supplies, and then we'll be off.
Right at the moment, we are becalmed. The mountains or Thira can still be seen dimly along the northern horizon, but all else is still. Occasionally a jet passes by overhead, but there is no other sign of mankind. We have been becalmed for three hours now, ever since dawn. There ought to be a breeze getting up in the early afternoon, but until then there is nothing to do. There is practically no swell, so we have lowered the sails and covered them to protect them from the sun, only a creaking of the tiller and a faint occasional burble along the hull can be heard. A flock of gulls swam near us for a while, but they have all departed now, except for one lone sentinel. He watches me-I am sitting in the cockpit-with one eye, waiting for some scraps, and with the other he watches whatever else it is that gulls watch along the misty surface or the Sea or Crete.
Marianne and I enjoyed a long, slow, rhythmical, deep love making as the sun rose and the wind died. It was a new way for us. We felt close and yet not terribly passionate, and the fucking was very, very slow because of that. We reveled in the sensation of my stiff erection slowly-so slowly!-penetrating the slick walls of her tight cunt, the wide ridge of its head rubbing at her. I held myself high on my arms, touching her only with my cock and my legs, and stared into her eyes all the while. When, after a long time, she grew closer to coming, she slipped her hand between us and masturbated her clit while I continued to slip myself in and out of her. Looking down and seeing her hand on her hairy belly, watching the working of her knuckles as her fingers slid over and over that sensitive, small button which I love, I found myself growing livid with excitement. Her own lust grew through the medium of her masturbation and the great hardness of me inside her womb, and I watched as she very carefully propelled herself into an orgasm. Her thighs yawned wider as her eyes closed and her neck arched. "I love you," I began to whisper to her as the moment came closer. "I love you, Marianne. I love you." And then it came. Moaning "Oh God, oh God, ok, ok, ok!" her first words in the day-she grunted herself up at me, propelling me with one heave deep inside her hot cunt, and her fingers were smashed against her straining clit by the pressure of our two bodies locked together. She had been sucking on my arm, and the intensity of this mouth work grew until she was biting me none too gently. And then, with a single thrash and a groan, her orgasm was over. Mine was yet to come, however, and as she fingered her now soaking pussy some more, I straddled her big breasts, and she masturbated me with one hand. She likes to watch the juice arching high from my cock when I come, and it was not long until I felt the rush of sperm all through me. My cock curved up and up, stiffer and still stiffer, while her expert fingers ran up and down it. Now and again she would tip her mouth up and smear saliva from her red tongue on my quivering flesh. I felt her own second orgasm coming closer, and the approach of her pleasure ensured my own. Just before she came, I arched and arched ... and then jets of hot come blasted from my cock to ring into the air and fall heavily, wetly across her face and throat. The splashes of sperm on her eyes and lips and cheeks triggered her, and she thrashed her legs around her trembling hand, her belly heaving under me with the force of her climax.
Now she lies face down on the foredeck on a woven mat, completely naked, propped on her elbows, reading a book. Her hair is tied back in a blue scarf, her sunglasses nearly hide her face all together, and there are smears of sun tan lotion on her thighs and back when it was not entirely rubbed in. By a curiosity of the sun, the shadow of the forestay and the jib halyard lies across the small of her back directly on the bikini line. As I look at her wondrous ass, I see her tanned and very brown to the left of that shadow and pale, rounded, voluptuous to the right of it. I love her ass! Seeing it nearly always makes me desire to lick her there, and as I watch it now, I am growing excited all over again. I am dressed simply in my bathing suit-Marianne likes the tan lines-and the nylon slip is filled with the heat of the sun and with the excited sweat of the last two hours of watching her move languorously on the foredeck. I have always liked the smell of my excited crotch, but now I am particularly aware of it. And wearing a bathing suit like this, this bikini, something that I never would have done before, is autoerotic anyway. I love the way my body is growing more slender and more strong. My arms and shoulders have never been so massive as they are now. I've decided to stop shaving all together, as has she, and I have the feeling I look piratical and dashing with my new beard.
I was going to describe the way we made love that first time in the chateau when I last put down this journal, and I suppose I'll go on with that now. Doing so will make me even hornier than I am already, and that will have a decided effect upon my actions after I am done!
I hope that Marianne is as excited as I am, because she's in for a surprise if she isn't. I saw her rubbing her belly and her breasts a little more than was necessary the last time she applied the lotion though, so I imagine that she is. Lying around nude in the sun has always made her feel sexy.
It's a delightful day, and there is nothing to do.
Well, back to the chateau, and winter, and Switzerland. (God, how long ago it all seems!)
Marianne was tired after her outburst. She slumped against me heavily. She had no way of knowing, of course, what manner of man I was or what sort of decision I felt growing inside me, but she was open to me to the extent of her knowledge. And that open quality in her was one of the things which first drew me to her. I felt a wave of love come over me, and I pressed my lips against the side of her poor, tired face. "Darling Marianne," I murmured, and she touched my arm with her hand. "Darling Marianne."
She turned her face into the hollow of my neck and threw one arm around my shoulder from the front. It was an awkward position, but we held it, as her breathing stilled, and her heart grew more steady. There was a profound warmth in her which beat against me, both literally and figuratively, and my desire to possess her grew. I wanted to lie her down on the bed. I knew that with her lying down the road to her body would be opened for me. I knew her lusts and her demands, but I felt a great quietness in her at that moment as she hugged me, and I had no wish to break such a tender moment. I reached to smooth her hair, and I murmured soft words of affection and security to her room. She hugged me tighter.
Finally, "Lie back," I said.
Supporting her shoulders with my arm, I lay her down on the blue-and-white coverlet of the bed. I propped myself on my elbow and stared down into her face. For a time her eyes were closed, and I contented myself with the sight of her and with the small kisses I thought were all she wanted me to plant on her brow and her nose. Presently, she opened her eyes, and their depths were especially blue. They mirrored a longing inside her, and they made my heart swell. I almost told her I loved her then.
"I'm afraid," she said. "It's too much."
"What?" I spoke as gently as I could.
"It. You. Here. Everything, Alex. I'm scared."
I didn't entirely understand this, but in the time-honored male manner I pressed her a little harder, asserting that it would all be fine, darling, and that she could trust me.
She allowed me to kiss her. Her lips were still, yet they were warm and not hard. I licked her lips. I licked the end of her nose. She didn't like that, and she squinched away, but it made her smile.
"See?" I teased her. "It's all right."
"Well ... "
"Of course it is."
"I guess so."
"We'll work it out."
"Help me."
"I will. Anything."
"Alex ... "
"Yes ?"
"Nothing. Just Alex."
For an instant I hesitated, reading the invitation in her eyes, and then I kissed her once more on the mouth. And this time, she was not loath to respond.
We moved around until we were lying at full length on the bed. Her mouth had grown more demanding in the process, and she attacked my own with growing abandon. Her tongue pressed between my lips and my teeth, and she licked my own tongue and the roof of my mouth. The sensation then of her tongue tip exploring the edges of my teeth and my gums was exotic; I had never felt such a thing before.
Our movement had caused her robe to pull open again, and she pressed her body against me, brooking nothing of the dampness of my outfit or the undoubtedly rough feeling of my heavy clothing. My hands moved eagerly to her great, heavy breasts, and I felt her nipples grow erect against my palms.
Ah, Marianne! The memory of it is enough to make the sweat start in my armpits. I watch you now as you roll over, heavy and slippery on your mat. I watch the loll of your big breasts as you settle back. I linger my eye on the dark tuft of hair you reveal as you raise your book over your face to screen away the sun. But mostly, my darling, my mind and my eye wanders over the brown, slow slopes, as you belly becomes the wide spread of your hips and thighs. Mostly my eye loves the opulence of you, the leonine power of your haunches, now stunned by the sun, the velvet fragrance of skin. And your sex! You raise one knee and allow your thigh to drop open. You allow the sun to stare his hot stare right into the very depths and center of your being. How gracefully that dark mound completes the promise of your thighs and your hips! How beautiful the folds and the wrinkles of it, how enticing its plumpness! And what a stunning forest of hair you possess to crown it with, now tipped with sunburn highlights by the bleaching of the Cretan sun. I love you, Marianne. I love you. I loved you then, too, although you did not hear me say so. I loved you that night as we lay in our little escape from the chateau, secretive, still, our rustling furtive. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I will love you always, for you have shown that you love me. You have taken me. You have chosen me, and there is a fierceness about your choice which makes me proud. You are a lioness: long, strong, sauntering, tawny body; playful, kittenish, wild. I love you.
I kissed you then. Do you remember how I kissed you, leaning over your eager body, stilling your trembling with my own? How frantic I was! How giving were you!
I kissed you. I recall the taste of your mouth, fresh from the toothbrush, fresh from your tears. I recall the pull of your throat as I kissed it, and the softness behind your collar bones. I remember how I lifted your round arm and planted long sucking, licking kisses in the hair of your armpit. Oh, beautiful hair! Oh, ancient hair! Oh, hair of my heart and soul! I sucked your there, do you remember?, and I rubbed my tongue across your sensitive flesh. I remember how you moved then, how your hips began their heavy roll of passion. I recall your hand holding me against your armpit, the warmth of your breast against my face, the mist of your breathing in my ear. With an eye, I watched you cupping and rolling your breast in one hand, watched you pull your big nipple until it strained in its desire to grow bigger still. Do you remember how you thrust your big globes against me? Do you recall the sensation of my taking them in my hands and nursing them with my lips? I do. I can feel it now, I look at you, so shiny in the sun, and I can feel those hot, smooth breasts as I felt them on that snowy night. I spent hours, it seems, lifting them, and shifting them, and caressing them, and sucking them. I bathed them everywhere with my mouth, licking the warm, white flesh, drawing on your nipples until I might have thought there was milk to drink. Oh, and I wanted to drink your milk! I wanted everything there was of you, your sweet, hot milk at that moment to come in my mouth, to ooze from your body, to sustain me, to make me alive. I sucked your nipples. I licked the deep valley between your breasts when you held them with a laugh tightly together, trapping my face in your warmth. You stopped my ears with the flesh of your tits, and yet still I could hear your laughter. I could feel it through you. I could feel it in the wonderful insides of you, bubbling over, making light of the worries, making love of our love. I could feel the happiness flooding you the way I flooded your flesh with my saliva and my sweat. And I loved that happiness. I would have died for that happiness at that moment. I loved you. You complimented me then, paying me more heed than I had ever had, and more than I had come to expect. Oh, Marianne of my life!
And there was your cunt now, all open and wet. I could smell the excitement in it, almost taste the running moisture in the air. And you were pulling at my clothes, and I was laughing, and you were rolling, and your robe was gone, and then my clothes were gone, and you ran a hand through your oozing slit and pressed the cream onto my face, and I kissed your hand, and dropped once more into your armpit, and you kept lifting your scent and your cunt water and sliding it across my face, laughing all the while. Oh! My cock was as stiff as a pole then, and my balls ached. My cock was hot, and you held it, and you loved it, and you admired it. I see you again, bending over me as I lay in a trance upon my back, your fingers sliding over it, your tongue tip now and then licking at it, your eyes only inches away as you studied and adored my cock. You pulled the eye open at the end, and you licked my spilled and dried come away, and you kissed that red opening so very tenderly. You stuck the tip of your tongue in it--I can see you now-and I nearly came once more on the spot. And I remember the way you looked at me, so happily through your hair, like a little kid with a new toy, content, excited, wanting to play.
And your cunt! I see once again your cunt, how it was. I look at it in the sunlight, so heavy the lips, so thick the hair, and I see it again as it was. T pressed my face to it. Do you recall the noises you made? Do you recall the frenzy you felt as my tongue opened you, and divided the hairs, and split you like a fig? Do you? I do. I can taste you again, right now, as I sit here with the sun and my hand massaging my cock. I can taste your cunt juice; I can smell the rich, fetid odor of your crotch. I want you now as I wanted you then. I wanted you then as I hoped to want you now. It is a circle, all these wantings, day after day, day before day; around and around and around she goes, and where she stops ...
Well, I stop in a place that I know. I stop in your cunt. I am always in your cunt, my Marianne, I am always fucking you with my tongue fingers-cock. There you lie before me, your cunt so full of the sun as soon to turn to butter and to melt and to dribble along the deck until I can lick you up with my tongue. You are fun of butter, and of glue, and of honey, and of all things slow, and thick, and oozing. You seep into me as your cunt seeps around me when I am into you. Your essence is creamy, and it coats me, and I drink it. I would be drowned in it if I could. You are ripe, oh Marianne, and as lush as cool water under the sun.
I remember the first parting of your heavy cunt lips. I opened them tremblingly with my fingers first, my face and nose only inches from your wet flesh. I pulled your sticky lips apart and look deep into the base of you. I saw your red, moist flesh, the inner lips of your cunt, that wonderful, hard nubbin of your clit. I ran the tip of my finger down from your clit to your cunt hole, and there I felt the deepest gathering of your juices. Oh, my dear, I love your flowing cunt juice! It is your fluid, your soul, your being that I suck. It is your truth. I pried apart your lips, and I seemed to release a thick glut of erotic odor, for I nearly reeled with the sudden heaviness in the air around me. I looked up into your smiling, encouraging face then, and I knew that you could smell yourself too. I smiled back at you, and saw your face drop down behind the high, wide mountains of your tits, so I placed my first kiss right into the open, red cunt of you. I kissed the gummy flesh there, and then my tongue came out, and I licked you, slowly at first and then more forcefully and more quickly, all the way from your asshole up to your clit. I raised your thighs higher and propped them wider, and I licked again and again over the ridge between your asshole and your cunt hole, my nose pressed all the while into the wet slit from which my happiness comes. I felt your juice coating my cheeks, and in an agony of desire I turned my face backwards and forwards in your running crotch, deliberately smearing your sap all over my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks, and my chin. You were moaning all the while, twisting and turning, humping your cunt against my face, calling on me to suck you harder.
And I did; oh, yes, I certainly did.
I sucked you, and I licked you, and I pressed my hot, wet tongue deep between your cheeks, slowly opening your asshole to its smooth intrusion. I felt your asshole tighten on my tongue. I felt you squeezing and relaxing, and with each relaxation, I pressed my tongue deeper into your ass. I was licking you now, my mouth running with saliva, my face smeared with your cunt juice, my nostrils thick with the mingled scents of your cunt and your asshole. I raised my head to admire you, holding your knees back against your breasts, your ass crease and heavy, flooded cunt tilted up toward me as though to kiss me back. I stared at your riot of dark hair, your red asshole where I had just been sucking your flesh. I bent and gently kissed the long, dark hair around your asshole. I licked you in a wet stream all the way from behind your asshole to your rigid clit. I felt the breath streaming in and out of you as I sucked your clit, and your breath was a mirror to my own beating lungs and heart. You were groaning, and twitching, and begging me to make you come, and I held off for a little while, torturing you mildly, running my tongue through your cunt hair and snuffling at your smell. Then I went back to your asshole-do you recall it?-and sucked you some more there. I felt the walls grow wet and open. I felt your insides with my tongue. And now, in desperation, you brought one hand down and began rubbing and milking your cunt with it. You held your tight clit between your thumb and fingers, and you rolled it around in its soft, oily, hot bed of flesh. I watched your masturbating fingers as I licked your asshole, and I thought that the sight would make me come once more myself. I was humping my aching cock all the while against the bedspread, eager to make my way deep into your body and yet loving the sight of your fingers and the taste of your asshole too much to move higher on you and fuck you. You were beating yourself closer to a climax, I could feel by the writhing of your body and the frantic humping of your cunt against my face, so I slipped my mouth up and sucked both your long fingers and your clit into it, licking them all indiscriminately, rubbing my tongue over and over again against your wet, cunt-tasting flesh. Looking up, I saw that you had stuck your other fingers into your own mouth, to fill that eager cavern too with flesh. You wished it were a cock, I knew, and I thought about the feeling of my cock in your mouth, and how it would be, and the heat and the friction in there. I wondered whether it was too late. I wanted my cock in your mouth. I wanted to have me deep in your throat when you came, and I wanted to come in your mouth myself. I hoped I could turn around before you came, and I slowed down on your clit. Do you remember the way you grabbed at my head, begging me over and over to let you come now, that you would die if you didn't come? Do you remember how you gasped and twitched and battered your cunt with your hands and my face and anything you could get close too? But quickly I turned and knelt over your face and pulled back your thighs until I could catch them under my armpits and hold them back against your breasts. I recall the frenzy with which you took my cock in one hand and guided it deep into your mouth. I can feel it slipping in still. I can feel the battering of your tongue, and the hard sucking of your throat, and I can feel also the response in you when I began fucking your mouth. And all this while, darling, I was licking your cunt hole again, sucking its bubbling liquor all from its depths. And your asshole some more, and then your cunt hole again. Back and forth, back and forth. And I fucked you harder, and I sucked you harder, and soon your hand was back on your clit, masturbating frantically, and I felt the deep agony of another come welling along my thighs and back, and your fingers were going like mad, and my mouth was dribbling saliva into your asshole and your cunt, and you were overflowing with moisture, and my face was wet with you, and I knew you were coming, and I could feel your body in the beginning
of its heaves, and I felt your urgent sucking, and I wanted to come as you did, and I plunged my face into your cunt so that my nose was jammed in your asshole and my lips and tongue and everything were sucking your hairy, hot, wet, red, sweet, dark, gaping, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming CUNT! Oh! The juice burst from me. I felt it leap into your throat so hard. Jerk after jerk. Again and again. I must have flooded your insides all the way from the bottom up. I must have gorged you with semen, splashed you with sperm. The tremors kept on, and on, and I thought I would never stop pumping the thick, white juice down your throat, and I thought I would die, and I thought I had died, and then you came again.
I recall the great relaxation which came over me after Marianne had come for the second time. She seemed to slip into a dazed sleep, such as I recalled her entering on the train, and I lay on the bed and felt the warmth of her body beside me. I could still taste her-her juices were drying all over my face-and I enjoyed the olfactory memory of what had happened. I also felt, and this was the most important part, completely in command of myself, my future, and Marianne's situation. I still didn't .know what it was about this place that made everyone so uneasy, but I did know that I was with this woman forever, and that, together, we could do anything that we hoped to do. It might be true to say that from this point on, my escape was over, and Marianne's was beginning.
Well, I must say that writing the above has made me awfully excited, here in the sun. The Cretan sky still shines above us without the breath of a wind, and the sea is as empty now as it was before the creation or man. Only fish and birds live here. We are as though cut off from all civilization, from all time. There is nothing about Moth which is modern or gimcrack. She is heavy, solid, comfortable with the years. I strip off my slight bathing suit and stand, tall, powerful, naked, erect.
"What's that I see?" comes a happy question from the bow.
"Adam, at your service."
"Well, Adam. Is that who you are? I was wondering. You look pretty good for a handful of clay."
"Much obliged, I'm sure."
"And what was that you said about service?"
"I'm at yours, old thing. Anytime."
"That's what I was hoping you'd said!"
"Your place or mine?"
"Well, how's the weather where you live?"
"Sunny, hot. Increasing cloudiness with northeast winds predicted for the afternoon."
"Same here. I can't see that there's any advantage one way or the other, so far as the climate is concerned."
"Shall we flip a coin?"
"Sure."
"Do you have a coin?"
"Do I look as though I have a coin? Where would I keep it?"
"Oh, I can think of a few places."
"Where ?"
I climbed up out of the cockpit and began walking toward her. "Well, if you have so little imagination that you can't think of any places yourself, I guess I'll just have to show you."
"I don't know what you mean by a lack of imagination, my dear sir. Other people have always felt that I was bright enough."
I was now standing over her, looking down at her hot-looking body. My cock, engorged before, was less hard now, but it still swept out from my body like a wing. Marianne had propped herself on one elbow, and she held one hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. The sight of her nakedness was exciting to me, and I felt my cock growing stiff again in anticipation of what was coming. She had a charming grin on her face, and, as my erection swelled in size, I understood that she was grinning at it, more than she was at me. I have never known a woman who was as interested in cock as my Marianne.
"Oh, I know that you're bright enough," I said as I stood over her, gently swaying my hard prick from side to side. "You're bright enough, you're just not energetic enough to think. I believe that the sun has halved your capacities."
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"I do."
"Well, you bring that idiotic pole of yours down here where I can reach it without much effort, and we'll see just who has diminished capacities."
"Lazy bones." But I knelt down readily.
"Why work when people just keep bringing you nice things to eat? Here, lie back"
I did, and I had the pleasure of feeling Marianne drape her hot and slippery body against my side, her back to my face, and take my cock in her hand. "Ah, lovely morsel," she said, and then she began to suck me.
I love it when she does it that way. I can't feel her teeth, and that's nice, and she also has plenty of room to use her tongue on the wide head and underneath the head where I'm most sensitive. It's slow. She likes the feeling of having my great, cock filling her mouth, and she does her best to prolong the ecstasy. For me, the position is also pleasant, for with one hand I can caress her wide buttocks and, by bending somewhat, get a finger down into her asshole. If she feels like coming herself, which the activity often makes her feel, she usually arches her back and opens her thighs to me, and I can masturbate her from behind. We have found ourselves in some very contorted positions as she tries to open herself more to my fingers while still retaining my cock in her mouth. I would not have believed that she could twist herself into those shapes had I not known the diligence with which she goes about giving herself orgasms.
Well, I lay there in the sun, my mind rolling slowly among the images of the morning's love making and the memories of all the earlier events which I had loosed by writing a few minutes ago, and I groaned with the feeling of her tongue titillating my tender flesh. She was not moving her head yet. Only her tongue made a wet friction against my swollen skin, urging on the thrills of ecstasy, making my body grow tenser and more vibrant. Shudders began passing through my stiff muscles like ripples of wind across the water. I heard myself commence to moan. My heart was thudding like mad. The sun burned through my dosed eyelids, turning everything red.
And now she began bobbing her head, her wet lips slipping up and down along the whole length. I could feel the beginnings of my orgasm deep inside myself, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was about to come in her mouth.
I looked down at her to discover that one knee was propped in the air, opening her cunt, and that the hand that was not holding the base of my cock was masturbating her clit. I reached around under her spread ass and gently caressed the back of her flying fingers. Her own breath now began to match the pace of my own, hot wafts of it bathing my cock and balls. I slid two fingers as deep into her vagina as I could, caressing the walls, and I had the satisfaction of seeing her hips and thighs begin their marvelous orgasmic dance.
I turned my attention back to myself, and I felt her mouth now flying up and down my cock. I was as rigid as I ever remember being, and I realized that the climax was nearly upon me. How I adored the feeling! How I loved to pump my steaming, heavy come juice into the sucking, eager redness of her mouth! And I could feel it coming now. Yes, there it was. Yes, there it came. My body was as tight as a bowstring. My lungs stopped breathing. The moment came closer. I felt I would die of the tension. Her mouth was indistinguishable from my cock. It was all one coming flesh. The explosion was ... it was ... oh, God ... it was NOW!
And she, too, I realized dimly through my thudding spurts, was making herself come. Her fingers and mine were driving her wild. I felt her orgasm-which was so violent it pulled my fingers from her cunt-and then she stilled as she sucked the last of my wilting cock dry. And then, her mouth and chin still gobbed with my sperm she raised her face and kissed me, long and deep: I felt and tasted myself rolling down out of her mouth into mine, and the heat, the bitterness, the exoticism of it began to arouse me all over again. Marianne was certainly ready for more, and while still kissing me, she lifted one thigh over mine. Holding my stiffening cock in her hand, she fitted me into her cunt as she sank down on top of me, her knees pressed into my sides. Her tongue went berserk in my mouth as we both drank my come, and she rode my hard cock faster and faster. Her moaning rose to a feverish pitch, and she rose up blindly, her torso gleaming in the sunlight, her magnificent breasts joggling, her nipples wide and red. Her face was arched back toward the sun, her neck was corded, a flush began to spread across her shoulders and breasts under the suntan. I slammed my cock up into her, knowing she was about to come again, and slipped my fist into the hot nest of hair at her cunt, rubbing her engorged clit with the backs of my fingers. Her mouth opened and meaningless words and sounds poured out. She clasped her massive tits in her hands and squeezed them until the flesh stood out white between her fingers, and then she came.