[She looks at him then, the setting sun casting him in an orange glow, almost like he really is a fire. And she's reminded again why she first started to fall in love with him. His lean strength; the power he clearly works hard to maintain, because nobody's born with those kinds of muscles. His intensity. Perhaps most importantly, the feeling that there was so much she could learn from him.
And she has — about sex and her body. About suffering. Appreciating complexity. Forgiveness. Some lessons deeply satisfying, even thrilling, and other lessons she sometimes thinks she could have done without. Yet right now, she wouldn't change any of it.
She arches into his touch, her arms stretching up both for the delicious sensation of stretching and to pull up her breasts, displaying them like an offering to his roaming hands. She grinds her pelvis against his chest and makes faint noises of aroused relief, like steam coming out of a teapot.]
no subject
And she has — about sex and her body. About suffering. Appreciating complexity. Forgiveness. Some lessons deeply satisfying, even thrilling, and other lessons she sometimes thinks she could have done without. Yet right now, she wouldn't change any of it.
She arches into his touch, her arms stretching up both for the delicious sensation of stretching and to pull up her breasts, displaying them like an offering to his roaming hands. She grinds her pelvis against his chest and makes faint noises of aroused relief, like steam coming out of a teapot.]