“ Then say it! Pretend I'm her and say it like you mean it! ”Even though I was still blind folded, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that the ...oman on top of me was my girlfriend's best friend. When her face became clear in my mind's eye, I proclaimed loudly, “ Please Veranda, fuck me now! ”“ Well, that was your trick! ” Announced Bernadette and I thought to myself, 'Where the fuck did that come from?'“ And I'm your treat! ” Cried the woman on top of me as she impaled herself completely. She is not a battle or a conquest, but she is a gift, divine, and she is a table, a meal, to which I must be invited.I savour her as I inhale her. Her fragrance is with me still, even though that cannot be possible. But it is, and as I touch my own flesh, I know that I am inhaling her and I am savouring her. She is not only the master of time, but of place, and I am transported from my solitary remembrances to a joinder of experience, with her, beside her and within her.I am with her. I know. More

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