My senses run wild, like a river swollen from a great rain. My left hand spreads its fingers open and I splay it across his left nipple, as my right does the same with its mate. Each nipple is given equal pleasure, each given their own partner to enjoy. I realize, at this moment, that this is why men and women were made, each to compliment the other. Two hands to touch, so no part of the body is left wanting or needing. His nipples tighten under my caresses. Power courses through my veins and moves up to my heart and mind, giving my mouth the strength to continue. My lips leave kisses across his chest and down the center of his body. I bend slightly, my mouth nuzzling him, as his hands run lovingly along my back and over my skin, like a man handling an injured dove, wanting to be gentle, so as not to startle it into flight. I hear his sounds of pleasure but cannot focus on the words, as my own hand uncovers the present it was hiding from me. My tongue licks his nipple and my teeth. ("To repay you for the letter to the Acting Dean," I'd said. "Very appropriate and proper. Aren't you going to ask about your sister?" "No, ma'am. A lawyer must be discreet." "Excellent! My compliments.")We had only a little more baggage than we had when we'd flown west: a few books and the clothes that Rachel had purchased. The bulk of our gifts were slips of pasteboard, representing nine days in Melbourne next November. I'd begun reading Das Rheingold on the airplane. Rachel read Chandler's Semiotics: The Basics.There was a mound of mail awaiting us, but nothing for me from the Law School. Of course, it wasn't the New Year yet. We put our stuff away, opened all the windows to air things out, and went to buy food supplies. When we returned, I let Rachel stow things and I sat down with the mail.I did a quick sort into trash and "open," then resorted the "open" into "P" and "R" (anything addressed to both of us went to "R"). As planned, I had the charge card bill and a receipt from.
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