"Her eyes slowly closed as she yielded to her dream of love. She forgot to stiffen and there no longer lurked in the corner of her mouth that defiance he had seen there so often. Her lips parted as her breathing grew rapid. No longer was she the enemy. Tenderly he explored her, and with the thrill of discovery he realised she was leading him to even more ravishingly mysterious prospects. The moment was approaching for their transcedent transfiguration, for him to pluck the taut strings of her tantalising womanhood and make it sound with the glorious music so long denied him. He must be patient, so delicately exquisite a thing it was to do. Every inch of his virile mastery was aroused as he advanced towards a goal which did not retreat from him. (yada yada yada...comparisons to wounded bewildered animals etc.) First quivering and then steeped in langour, rolling their heads from side to side gently and rhythmically as they lolled on the pillow of their golden hair, they separated slowly from each other reaching that dim floating region where two beings mould into one." (Angelique and the King) Next time someone is mean to me, I'm going to say: "Well why don't you just go pluck the taut strings of your mother's tantalising womanhood" If I survive, I might give you the rest tomorrow. Or maybe someone else would care to take artistic licence with it. |
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