Having at my family's insistence taken the train from Collinsville to Spenton and having dutifully placed myself into the hospitable custody of the Spenton clan, I'd passed a dismal few days attempting to resign myself to my fate. My second cousin Alberta with whom I passed a few polite minutes every afternoon in the drawing room seemed already to have resigned herself to her own fate. I had then, several days before the wedding, stepped from the crystal opulence of the Spenton residence and strolled a few idle minutes along the edge of the highway not entirely certain why I was doing so - until a farmer in an old, ramshackle pickup truck pulled to a stop beside me.

"Lift, young fellow -?"

I'd glanced a half moment over my shoulder toward the Spenton residence occupied by a second cousin in her late twenties though by no means unattractive, Alberta dutifully preparing for her wedding. I'd passed another musing moment feeling flattered, I suppose, that Alberta Spenton hadn't over the past few months expressed any strenuous objections to the fact that I was the Collins dispatched by the Collinsville Collins in order to participate in the ceremony as the groom.

And a half moment's idle musing accomplished, I'd hopped onto the back of a ramshackle '54 Chevy deciding its appearance along the highway an opportunity to escape my fate, an opportunity which presenting itself might as well be taken advantage of. Reposing that evening in a room in "a motel" located, as far as I could determine, halfway between Spenton and Collinsville and therefore in the middle of nowhere, I'd stepped from my room's door into the open air the following morning and sighed despondent resignation. Carl Holliston worked in one of the Collins family's factories or farms or something and did something though I'd never concerned myself over exactly what that something was. Carl, attired in expensive elegance though still appearing as though his name should have been Mugsie or something of the sort, stood beside his Lincoln an expression of bored amusement in his features as I approached.

"What -?" I barked and groaned.

"Kid - you's a card, you are -" Carl Holliston chuckled in easy mirth.

"Carl - I'm twenty seven years old. I intend to hop on the back of the first pickup going down the road."

"I got all the time in the world, kid," conspiratorial amusement settling into his features as he leaned closer. "Jack - what's it really matter anyway? Go ahead - marry the girl. You's a Collins. And the Coppermine's still gonna be there," Carl quite aware that I've stolen any number of times over the years down to a small tavern on the edge of Collinsville, said wrong side of the railroad tracks tavern frequented by attractive young ladies several of whom, over the years, have intimated a genuine affection for me in an intimately affectionate manner. Never deluding myself into thinking that I was a Collins possessed of any exceptional or extraordinary virtues, I had at the least made certain that my intimately affectionate acquaintances were eminently aware that an acquaintance of any sort with me wouldn't realize them a dime. I was a Collins, by no means a particularly valuable one. And still, uncle and aunt Collins their serene, august, and moneyed majesties had long since determined that I was to be expended in order to cement feudal ties with the Spentons. A tomato processing plant, I'm fairly certain, figured prominently in the negotiations.

"All right, Carl," I sighed and groaned for his smirking amusement, nodding toward a motel room's door, toward a bottle of gin in my jacket's pocket. "I'm gonna get drunk. I'll leave the door unlocked. When my jailors from Spenton get here, they can just walk on in."

Repairing back into my room, managing over the next hour to get moderately though pleasantly drunk, I flopped back down onto the bed not quite certain why I wasn't in the mood for further flight. Carl Holliston, quite as he had in almost identical circumstances just a year earlier, would follow me about for another day or two. Tiring of the nuisance, he and I coming to terms over the amount of the bribe, Carl would return to Collinsville and report me vanished. I had a year ago celebrated my narrow escape by getting drunk, had done so, however, in the company of my cousin Berty who not knowing what else to do with me snoring in the back seat of his car had deposited me through the back door of my parent's house right back in Collinsville. I'd stayed and endured the next six months, I suppose, only for my mother's sake, had seen very real terror in her eyes until uncle and aunt Collins their serene and august majesties had finally relented and granted her audience. All was to be forgiven and wills returned to their proper state, I'd discovered a month or two later, when my mother after another audience at the Collins residence, aka the palace in Collinsville, began mentioning to me that a cousin Alberta in Spenton was a charming and unattached young lady, the latter state deemed by meddling aunts in both feudal kingdoms to be in need a rectification.

I'd sighed despondent resignation, accepted an invitation to Spenton and its palace, had genuinely enjoyed an hour with Alberta Spenton who passed only a part of the time intimating an awareness of the importance of duty and family loyalty - something about the value of a tomato processing plant figuring prominently in that which for moments had seemed boardroom negotiation. Alberta, eminently aware of her uncle's reasons for extending me an invitation to his residence, offered me another cup of tea, and a young lady several years my senior her attire a movie star's form fitting blatancy hadn't, having discovered what she was getting, had a great many scruples about displaying for me what I was getting. After another ribald little joke necessitating the use of the word "ass," Alberta with a writhing little dance and a teasing little smile over her shoulder as she poured my tea was eminently aware that it was gawking delight in my eyes for that which, depending on how negotiations of various monetary consequence between our uncles went, I might be getting - though I'd noticed from the start little more than amused mirth in Alberta Spenton's eyes when she from the start had noticed mine straying. I'd nodded the requisite reverencing awe toward Spenton uncles and aunts said august personages after my presentation to them deigning me a moment's scrutinizing notice - and that the day I had first set eyes on Doreen Spenton. I, perhaps as anyone might, had noticed that the Spenton aunts in their forties and fifties were still very attractive women. I'd then, however, been presented to Alberta's aunt Doreen, I on my first visit to Spenton noticing that one of the Spenton aunts was still an - exceptionally attractive woman, my intended Alberta with amused mirth in her eyes noticing that which I suspect had been yet another moment's gawking notice in the eyes I'd yet again directed toward her aunt Doreen who even if in her early forties was - a very exceptionally attractive woman, the word "ass" yet again coursing frantic paths through my mind and Alberta's aunt Doreen's in such as form fitting ballroom attire - exceptional to every voluptuously curving and breathtaking extreme.

Dancing with my possibly intended in the Spenton residence's ballroom that same evening, Alberta wearing a low cut and explicitly revealing gown had yet again worn amused mirth in her features for blatant little moments of gawking distraction in my eyes. Alberta was just as aware, however, that I hadn't yet, having a few minutes ago danced with her aunt Doreen, recovered from a not quite lucid oblivion.

"Did you enjoy dancing with my aunt Doreen, Jack?" little more than the same accusing mischief in my possibly intended's features. Dancing with her aunt Doreen had been that which I could only call excruciating, agonizing torture, and as pleasantly breathtaking a torture as any I had ever known. It had, I suspect, dancing with Doreen Spenton, been aching, devouring distraction in eyes helplessly drawn toward that which I could only call the feminine ideal to every voluptuously perfect and alluring extreme.

Personages of various august sort in both Spenton and Collinsville over the next few months keeping me informed regarding the progress of my suit for the hand of the fair Alberta, I'd passed the rest of my time wandering back down to the Coppermine, sat at an old packing crate serving as a table, glanced musing amusement about that which had once been a horse barn. I'm not quite certain, as I awaited news of my fate, why I restricted myself to such as drunken hilarity with Carl Holliston trying to negotiate the price of the next bribe. Determining that the funds at my disposal didn't at the moment even come close, I'd then discovered that my fate had been sealed entirely. My mother after another audience had informed me that aunt and uncle Collins in Collinsville and Alberta's aunt and uncle Spenton in Spenton thought Alberta and me a lovely couple. Frantic urging in my mother's features said the rest. I'd found the same copy of Jane Austen I'd used a year ago, changed a word a two, presented myself to the fair Alberta and delivered my proposal. Alberta, to my mirthful amusement, played her part with exquisite charm, a hand to her chest as she gasped the requisite aghast astonishment for my proposal, and accepted it. I hadn't yet been quite certain who was getting the tomato processing factory.

I glanced another moment about another horse stall, the motel bed on which I lounged not dissimilar to cots provided me at Fort Dix and in Korea over the course of the only two years I had ever managed to escape the feudal kingdoms of Collinsville and Spenton. I toyed another few minutes with my gin as I waited for jailors from Spenton to arrive and remand me back into the custody of the Spentons and the fair Alberta. I toyed again with my gin, not quite certain why my mood was such hopeless, dismal despair. A bit more gin, I decided.

Dozing in a pleasant oblivion from the effects of the gin, I realized later that morning that someone had indeed walked through the door.

"Shit -" I groaned, a grasp for my gin and a final gulp of solace sending the bottle rattling onto the floor. Sighing, I turned from the bottle deciding to face my jailor instead.

"Doreen -" aghast astonishment likely in my features.

"I knocked -" little more than amusement in hers. "You didn't answer, Jack - so I just walked in."

"Oh -" and I gave myself another moment, shook the cobwebs from my eyes. "Princess Doreen -" groaning amusement in my voice. "I'm impressed. I thought it would be Buster and a goon squad come to fetch me back."

Sighing little more than mirthful amusement herself, a Spenton aunt only a few steps removed from the throne lowered herself onto a torn and ragged chair a few steps from the bed. It's a bizare, perhaps even an intriguing sight, Doreen Spenton in her early forties though still indeed an exceptionally attractive woman, her attire drawing room propriety, proper yet form fitting to every modern and revealing extreme. I gazed another fascinated moment, I suppose, toward august, genteel propriety appearing eminently out of place in a horse stall. I gazed mirthful amusement as Doreen occupied herself another long moment with the flask she'd withdrawn from her purse - and mirthful amusement settling back into her own eyes edged again toward me. I'll never entirely know why I could just lay back on an army cot bed in a horse stall motel room attired in nothing more than jockey shorts and answer Doreen's amused scrutiny with a resigned, amused sigh. I reached for the flask she held out to me, felt flattered, perhaps even intrigued for another glance of very obvious scrutiny. I felt, I suppose, another moment's familiar annoyance, I twenty seven years of age yet Doreen over the past few months choosing terms such as "exquisite, boyish beauty."

And it might for one fleeting moment have been that which it had been often enough in the Spenton's ballroom as Doreen and I danced in each other's arms - I edging awakening, terrified eyes back to those of one of the Spenton aunts realizing that I had frantically ripped every last shred of clothing from a form which I'd dared notice was the voluptuous, hourglass ideal to every agonizing, maddening extreme - and I recovering from a reeling oblivion of liscivious, abandoned imagining daring to believe that one of the Spenton aunts who was quick, perceptive brilliance and she quite aware that I had torn every last shred of clothing from her body, wasn't expressing any strenuous objections to my doing so. One of the Spenton aunts now sat in a chair a pace or two from a bed in a motel room, perhaps a subtle little change in her posture, perhaps an instant's accusing flash of her eyes just to be certain that a subtle little change of her posture was still something I could only call agonizing.

"Buster was indeed to have led the posse," Doreen finally began. "I was on my way into town, nothing of importance, turned at the car's door to see what all the commotion was about. It wasn't difficult to determine that you were to be drawn and quartered, perhaps tied over an ant hill, then fetched back. Anyway, I approached Buster, asked him to leave the matter to me for the moment."

I nodded gratitude toward one of the Spenton aunts who I genuinely liked, decided after another gulp from the flask on the obvious.

"Doreen -" I pled, "Alberta and I hardly know each other -"

"Jack - it would still be devastating for her - humiliating. Oh Lord, Jack - both Spenton and Collinsville will squirm in delight for months - will engage in every manner of ludicrous speculation -"

"Doreen - you've ventured as far beyond the kingdom's frontiers as I have. There's a whole other world out there. Once it's seen, one can place Spenton and Collinsville in their proper perspective. Blink driving past, and you miss them entirely -"

"But Jack - it is indeed a matter of perspective. Alberta's ventured beyond the frontiers to shop. She's a creature of her world who will always return to it. Spenton save for the occasional adventurous foray down the highway is her entire world. Jack, you can't imagine -" though it's a moment's sighing apology in her eyes.

We decided on a moment's respite, her flask and my gin which I finally retrieved from the floor of course filling the time. I gazed another moment's curious wonder toward one of the Spenton aunts - and she as quickly Doreen again.

"I hardly know Alberta," I tried. "We grant each other an hour in the drawing room. Discharging our day's duty, confident that we've done it well, I'll then find some way to amuse myself for the rest of the day. And that, more often than not, has been with my princess Doreen who would be drawn and quartered herself if I ever repeated some of her irreverent, outright seditious comments in the drawing room. Doreen - you and I know each other far better than Alberta and I know each other -"

And I gazed another timeless moment toward the Spenton aunt with whom I had indeed over the past several months shared all manner of emotionally charged conversation, felt indeed far closer to Doreen Spenton than I did to my intended Alberta - and decided in another awakening moment as I lay sprawled on a bed in a motel room wearing nothing more than jockey shorts that it might be time to do something about that.

I'm not quite certain why the moment seemed so different, of such greater and - outright arousing ferocity than it might have just a few months ago when Doreen and I had stood on a beach near Spenton. That, as usual, had been little less than conspiratorial and subversive mischief, she James Spenton's sister, one of The aunts, an assistant professor of literature whose demeanor if in a mood is anything from dignified propriety to august, imperial majesty. And yet strolling with Doreen Spenton along a secluded corner of the beach, necessarily so given the subversive nature of our conversion, I'd listened with little concealed delight as she commented on "the outright feudal kingdoms of Spenton and Collinsville." The ruling potentates of both, Doreen with conspiratorial mischief and as usual pleasantly intoxicated mirth in her features declared, were less than enlightened despots who speculated only on the monetary consequences as they moved breathing pawns across the board. My engagement with Alberta, her aunt Doreen sighed and admitted with a sympathetic crush of her hand onto my own, was indeed as likely as not the consequence of monetary negotiations over a tomato processing plant or something of the sort. It was, I suspect, delight and accusing mischief, as well as the usual pleasantly intoxicated mirth, in my own features as I answered.

"But you're a princess if Spenton is a kingdom, Doreen."

"I am not, however, held in particularly high favor a court."

"My princess Doreen - every bit the subversive radical I am. I'm - intrigued - to say the least."

It had as quickly, however, been something a great deal more on that secluded corner of the beach. I had spent the requisite few minutes earlier in the afternoon with my intended, polite, genteel nonsense, a long moment's very genuine gawking toward an Alberta who in bathing attire was as alluring an hourglass beauty as anyone on the beach. And duty of various sort attended and seen to, I'd strolled for almost an hour along a secluded corner of the beach with one of the Spenton aunts, she yet again just Doreen, the hour anything from mirthful amusement to knowing, conspiratorial delight - and something at least for moments a great deal more. I'd noticed from the start, I suppose, that which any member of the male species still breathing must notice, Alberta's aunt Doreen in form fitting, two piece bathing attire a bit more mature than Alberta and that just meaning a bit fuller and rounder - to those which were eminently, voluptuously, perfectly noticeable extremes. Strolling, however, with one of the Spenton aunts along a secluded corner of the beach genuinely enjoying her company, that secluded corner of the beach had suddenly seemed markedly more secluded. I'd noticed again that which I had noticed from the start - and had flung in another awakening moment eyes which I suspect were awash with apologetic terror toward one of the Spenton aunts who must certainly have noticed yet another glance of that which I finally realized had been blatant, gawking, devouring notice on my part. She'd noticed, I decided, the hands I'd clawed onto bathing attire which had to be ripped from a body which was agonizing feminine allure to blinding, not quite explicable extremes. It was one more moment of sheer terror for that which might indeed have been accusing mischief in a flash of her eyes toward mine.

It had then, however, been another few minutes not quite like any I had ever before known. "Oh Jack - come on - let's see where this path leads -" the secluded, wooded path along which we strolled seeming in another minute or two a thousand or so miles from the crowds on the beach. Alberta's aunt Doreen with gentle warmth or knowing sympathy in her eyes was for moments all of the practical, down to earth propriety which Alberta was, duty, responsibly, resignation to life as it was - perhaps another moment's mischief in her features. "She does, after all," Alberta's aunt Doreen informed me, "have a very nice ass." I'd nodded appreciation for those of Doreen's comments which had been knowing commiseration, assured Alberta's aunt Doreen that I was contentedly resigned to my fate - saw amused delight in her eyes as she examined flowers at the edge of the path and glanced over her shoulder just to be certain that it was blatant, devouring scrutiny in my own eyes, the word "ass" yet again coursing frantic paths through my mind. Accepting another offer of the flask from a Doreen who in her mildly inebriated mood decided to torture me for a few more minutes, I wasn't, I'd finally realized, mistaking a great deal of anything when she'd yet again noticed flowers or something of the sort a few steps from the path which she must examine - and the thing culminating, exotic torture indeed. I stood along the edge of our secluded wooded path gazing in transfixed oblivion as Doreen Spenton wandered toward her flowers, Doreen who in such as the ballroom in the Spenton residence was poised feminine allure with every step she took, her movement mature and practiced, an exquisite, not quite explicable ideal - moments of blatant, liscivious imagining absolutely irresistable to a breathing member of the male species gawking toward form fitting ballroom attire revealing a form which could only be called the tall, classical hourglass ideal to every impossibly voluptuous extreme. The ballroom, however, had been a frustrating exercise in futility, shuddering, imagining glances toward one of the Spenton aunts though no realistic hope of ballroom attire suddenly just vanishing. And I stood in a sudden moment seeming come from nowhere at the edge of a secluded wooded path in as exquisite an agony as any I could ever have imagined possible, a Spenton aunt attired in a form fitting, two piece bathing suit which left very little to the imagination and she glancing over her shoulder just to be certain that I was ripping even her bathing suit away entirely.

"Do you mind, Jack - another moment -" she leaning a few paces from the edge of the path collecting flowers.

"Not - not at all -" I standing at the edge of the path smoking a cigarette, bothering with little more than a half moment's pretence, daring a flash of my eyes toward a smile I couldn't any longer doubt was teasing, inviting mischief. I might have pretended for another half moment, a glance about the wood until certain that none of the trees were going anywhere - and finally giving up entirely, devouring with the unrestricted license I had been granted that which I could only call voluptuous feminine beauty and allure to every incomparable, impossibly perfect extreme. It yet again seemed a bizare and timeless moment come from nowhere. I had any number of times in the Spenton residence ballroom indulged in little less than bawdy, outright liscivious imagining, she standing a few paces away from me in form fitting ballroom attire, images of feminine curves which were broad and round allure, that same not quite explicable ideal to every impossibly voluptuous extreme. It had in the ballroom been stolen glances toward one of the Spenton aunts and a subtle little change of posture and that agonizing necessity that form fitting ballroom attire be ripped away - and I stood at the edge of our secluded wooded path in that which I could only call a reeling, disbelieving oblivion. Doreen Spenton stood a few paces from the edge of the path dancing among her flowers, form fitting ballroom attire vanished in that seeming a sudden, blinding moment come from nowhere - images I'd formed in the ballroom not even close. It was yet again that which I could only call inexplicable - and just something incomparably more when I yet again decided that clinging bathing attire just wasn't there either. It's the only woman who has even existed dancing among her flowers a few steps from the edge of the path, the thing yet again that which I could only call a timeless, torturing agony.

I stood at the edge of our secluded wooded path smoking a cigarette, that a moment's awakening distraction when I noticed that my fingers were on fire. Discarding the cigarette, deciding indeed that a moment's awakening lucidity might be in order, I edged my eyes again toward one of the Spenton aunts as she wandered another minute or two among her flowers - she entirely naked as she did so, every step she took a dance which was blinding, agonizing to those same incomparable, not quite explicable extremes - and one of the Spenton aunts who was quite aware that I had ripped a bit of clinging cloth from her body informing me that I had done so with yet another teasing glance, that in her features which I yet again dared believe was little more than amused accusation, perhaps even amused delight. Deciding that another sip from the flask might be steadying, I yet again edged my eyes toward one of the Spenton aunts who finally wandered back onto the path with her flowers in hand. The gin, I suppose, helped, I standing at the edge of our secluded wooded path giving up entirely, Doreen Spenton quite aware that she was entirely naked as she stepped toward me.

"Do you like them, Jack -?" she holding the flowers up for my inspection.

I, by that time, had enough gin in me to play along in unabashed, abandoned delight.

"Doreen - there's none lovelier - anywhere in the world -"

"And what about the flowers, Jack -?"

I'll always believe that we felt by then a gentle and very honest affection toward each other - even if it hadn't been a great deal less than knowing, liscivious mischief in the air between us from the start. I had indeed when presented to the Spenton aunts noticed from the start that which was obvious, all of the Spenton aunts still very attractive women. I'll always wonder, however, if I had flung a blatant and obvious second glance toward the youngest of the Spenton aunts when presented to her, couldn't have doubted a few minutes later that Doreen was deigning me something a great deal more than the moment's scrutinizing inspection I received from the rest of the Spenton clan. Sitting with Alberta's aunt in the drawing room prior to my presentation to Alberta, mouthing polite platitudes and hoping that I was concealing a seething resentment for meddling aunts and uncles playing with people's lives, yet another touch of her hand to my own had seemed a gesture of consoling sympathy, Alberta's aunt Doreen leaning with conspiratorial amusement in her features wondering if I might be feeling "an understandable resentment for aunts and uncles meddling with people's lives." I sat another timeless moment in gaping wonder, and just gave up, chuckled amused mirth for that which was quick, perceptive brilliance even if it was a pleasantly inebriated mirth in Doreen Spenton's eyes. We'd determined in another few minutes that my visit to Spenton might indeed be the result of machinations of various sort on the part of various aunts and uncles in both Spenton and Collinsville, Doreen with conspiratorial mischief in her features suspecting that "a handsome young man such as myself" might be arrived in Spenton seeking the fair Alberta's hand. The possibility, I intimated, beginning to enjoy the game, existed - though by that time I sat in the drawing room with one of the Spenton aunts wondering if I was enjoying, perhaps intensely so, sitting on a couch with one of the Spenton aunts in that which suddenly seemed an intensely close proximity. And it was, of course, all the matter of another half moment or two, Doreen Spenton supposing that I would pursue the fair Alberta that evening in the ballroom - and Doreen leaning, a hand wrapped to my arm, a caressing touch of her knee to my own as she wondered if "an - exceptionally handsome young man such as myself" might feel inclined to engage the fair Alberta's aunt this evening at least for a dance or two.

I'll always believe that I felt a gentle, very honest affection toward Alberta's aunt Doreen thirty minutes after I had first set eyes on her, she the Spenton aunt who bothered with something more than a half moment's inspecting scrutiny toward me. I couldn't even in the moment, however, deny that I might indeed feel inclined to engage Doreen Spenton for a dance or two that evening in the ballroom - and I sat with her on a couch in the drawing wondering if a moment's imagining in which I had indulged might have been a bit indecorous. I had for the warmth of her hand to my arm and a caressing touch of her knee to my own noticed that Alberta's aunt Doreen was indeed still a very attractive woman, had dared notice that her attire was form fitting and revealing to every "modern" extreme, had for either another moment or another gawking little eternity ripped every last shred of clothing from a form which I'd dared notice was voluptuous, hourglass beauty and allure of a sort I might feel inclined to search and explore with caresses wild, frenzied abandon. And with that, I finally decided that my ripping every last shred of her clothing away might have been just a bit indecorous, I sitting thirty minutes after first setting eyes on Doreen Spenton in a timeless moment's awakening, reeling panic for a liscivious little fantasy which I might, I knew in another awakening instant, just as well have spoken aloud. I saw indeed that which might have been a half moment's startled wonder in her eyes, waited for one of the Spenton aunts to gasp aghast outrage - and finally dared believe some incomprehensibly timeless eternity later that the distance between us on the couch seeming minute a moment ago was now gone entirely, an arm about mine and her hand now wrapped to my arm with possessing strength, her knee lain to my own in blatant, teasing caress - amused, perhaps even giddy delight in her eyes for that which she couldn't have doubted was lingering, liscivious delight in my own.

"Then - I can, Jack - anticipate at least a dance or two this evening with an - exceptionally, remarkably handsome and - exciting young man such as yourself-?" one of the Spenton aunts leaning even closer, her posture, I almost dared believe, calculated to provide me a more revealing view of that which for a timeless yet blatant and liscivious instant was my entire existence and was agonizing, torturing feminine perfection - the day I had first set eyes on Doreen Spenton the beginning of all manner of blatant, knowing mischief between myself and one of the Spenton aunts. I suppose I was "boyish" to Alberta's aunt Doreen from the start, Alberta with that same knowing mischief informing me that her aunt Doreen choose terms such as "exquisitely exciting, outright agonizing beauty." And still, it had that day I had first set eyes on Doreen been something I can only call wild, girlish delight in her features for something more in my own than she'd genuinely anticipated. I'll never be entirely certain why those which were indeed little more than subtle hints of her age in her features just weren't noticeable - and certainly weren't inhibiting, Doreen Spenton thirty minutes after I had first set eyes on her supposing a writhing little dance for me might elicit my intrigued, admiring attention - and that which might have been a fleeting moment's intrigued fright in brilliantly perceptive eyes as I wrestled her onto the drawing room's floor, frantically ripped cloth from her body, she agonizing, maddening feminine allure which I just couldn't any longer resist.

"Doreen - yes - at least a dance or two this evening -" I'd finally answered - perhaps an edge of lingering, sheepish reserve in my features, perhaps another half moment's futile attempt to resist urges which I'd never before the moment found quite so entirely, impossibly irresistable. It was all something I'd never before known with anything close to the same unrelenting ferocity - and was just something incomparable more when I gave up entirely, I ripping the clothing from her body with every liscivious little glance and beginning to enjoy doing so even as I sat with a Spenton aunt who was quite aware that I, ripping every last shred of clothing from her body, had begun doing so the moment I had first set eyes on her.

It had been another few minutes, an unexpected and pleasant little ecstasy in the Spenton's drawing room which I'd decided couldn't last much longer.

"Perhaps -" a possessing hand to my arm, an agonizing caress of her knee to my own, "perhaps if you're not otherwise engaged at the moment, I could show you the residence gardens myself, Jack. They're quite lovely this time of the year. Do you have a few minutes -?" Alberta's aunt Doreen and the most agonizing, maddening woman who had ever lived entwining her arm through my own as we strolled the garden's and then the orchard's paths, a "few minutes," to my entranced delight, become an entire afternoon.

"Who -?" I suspect I had, in one way or another, asked several dozen times over the course of the afternoon whenever Alberta's aunt Doreen yet again offered some gentle commiseration regarding my preordained fate.

"Alberta, Jack - Alberta Spenton," amused mischief in Doreen Spenton's features, Doreen supposing that she had detained me long enough, that I must be tiring of an aunt's company and anxious to be presented to my intended - and Doreen's posture perhaps a half moment's sultry, inexplicably maddening little dance, Doreen with a glance determining that I'm about to wrestle her onto the ground, ravish every last inch of feminine beauty and allure which is torturing.

"Yes - no - I mean -" or something equally imbecilic in reply to her inquiries regarding my intended, perhaps another half moment's pleading apology in my eyes for a glance on my part which must this time certainly have been raw, wanton abandon to every obvious and blatant extreme.

And it had seemed, the day I had first set eyes on Doreen Spenton, a dizzying, reeling ecstasy which just didn't have limits, her eyes, I finally dared believe, ablaze with raw, wanton delight as she yet again thrust her arm onto my own.

"Oh Jack - I haven't shown you the apple orchard yet, have I? I just can't give you to Alberta until I have," the apple orchard culminating, agonizing torture, another moment's requisite and dutiful mention of my intended Alberta. It's another moment's abandoned imagining, perhaps then a genuine attempt to retreat back into some reasoning balance. I'm walking, I decided, arm in arm with a Lady of the Spenton Court, a princess of the realm, her demeanor by and large self assured, august propriety, her step poised, quiet dignity, she perhaps glancing a half moment's curious amusement toward her "handsome and exciting young man" daring fleeting moment's of improprietous notice toward her - and Alberta's aunt Doreen as we strolled quiet, secluded paths a mile or so from the residence sliding a caressing hand to her leg in search of a bothersome insect.

"Oh Jack - I think it's I spider - do you see it -?" a steadying hand wrapped to my arm, a twisting, writhing dance, the hem of a form fitting dress urged a dizzying distance above her knees - the thing a finished falling oblivion of raw, blinding sensation. She's the artistic ideal, a vision of impossible hourglass perfection suddenly come to life, her dancing an ultimate expression of voluptuous feminine beauty and allure which just isn't explicable. It's a moment's incomprehensibly timeless imagining, a frantic arm flung about her waist, a frenzied hand flung to caresses of searching intimacy. Her startled, writhing struggles are just some new, maddening allure, breasts which are the same voluptuous, artistic ideal heaving in breathless fury as I cradled her body onto my own, my arm wrenched about a waist which is feminine beauty and allure to every impossibly perfect extreme. It's yet again the ultimate in raw, blinding sensation, is nothing less than raw and bawdy imagery. It's the maddening curves of her ass onto which I've flung a searching, fondling, groping hand. She's round and broad beauty and allure, that same impossible, not quite explicable ideal. It's maddening, voluptuous warmth which is mine in one, sudden instant, devouring lips crushed onto her neck, a half moment's frenzied, fondling caresses leaving me immersed in reeling, falling sensation not quite like anything I had ever before known. It's yet again some impossible ideal realized, she the only woman who has ever existed, her living warmth immersing, surrounding, enveloping in ways which just can't be described. It's yet again her body writhing in struggling fury for frenzied kisses and a frantic, capturing arm wrenched about her waist, her body writhing in helpless, shuddering desparation for the fondling touch of my hand and even her writhing struggles a dance of feminine beauty and allure which is the blinding impossible ideal.

It's a sudden, dizzying want for something more, clawing and groping caresses, desparate, writhing struggles until it's the hem of a form fitting dress worked a culminating, excruciating distance up her legs - and it's finally my hand flung blatantly onto curves which are maddening, nothing more than a bit of white, clinging silk hindering my searching, exploring touch flung onto blinding, agonizing feminine perfection.

"Jack -" her voice an exploding, primal gasp.

I lifted caressing, devouring lips from her neck, flung my eyes to features which even if hinting her age were entrancing beauty and allure. I flung my eyes even then to lips which I must devour with my own - will never quite know why I finally demanded of myself a half moment's awakening, lucid pause.

It hadn't happened, I suppose I tried for one bizare, timeless, and futile instant as I flung my eyes to those of one of The Spenton aunts to whom I had been presented an hour ago - I clawing a frantic arm about her waist, slamming her body onto my own, her breasts still heaving in breathless fury for the hand, I finally just couldn't deny, which I had flung to caresses of fondling, groping intimacy.

"Doreen -" I gasped in reply to my name gasped in angry affront, waited for all manner of protesting invective as she flung eyes still awash with startled amaze the length of her body - and one of the Spenton aunts who I had just mauled with caresses of fondling, groping intimacy burying her eyes to mine - and her eyes, I still couldn't quite dare believe, still awash with something I could only call raw, burning delight.

"Why - Jack -" she gasped again, "I do - I do believe you're standing here with a hand on my ass -"

"Yes - no -"

"Does this - does this mean, Jack, that you might indeed feel inclined to request a dance or two of me tonight -?"

"Yes - I mean -" and I decided something other than the imbecilic might finally be necessary. "Yes, Doreen, I might indeed -" I finally managed, might even have allowed myself a wondering chuckle as I settled back into something at least close to a lucid, reasoning calm. "Perhaps - perhaps a dance or two - perhaps - the entire evening with you, Doreen -"

"Oh, now Jack - what would Alberta say to that -?"

Alberta - the same moment's questioning confusion in my features, Alberta that day I first set eyes on her aunt Doreen nothing more than a name to me.

"Rumor has it, Jack," the same amused delight in Doreen Spenton's eyes, "that you have come to Spenton in pursuit of my niece who, if you wish, I will be happy to present to you this evening -"

"Yes - of course, Doreen -" I sighed and chuckled, life's realities a bothersome annoyance for another moment, I dispatched from Collinsville to Spenton in order to participate in a romantic pursuit already preordained successful by the ruling potentates of Collinsville and Spenton - and a moment's annoyance just ending another fall into as dizzying an abandon as any I had ever known. I could, I supposed, see something of her age in her features, subtle nuances indicating that she was fifteen years my senior. It might have been that same sighing mirth, she deciding again that I was twenty years her junior. And it's another bizare half moment, she simply a tall, blond, absolutely flawless goddess, the voluptuous hourglass ideal to every impossibly perfect extreme - and she and I still standing in an apple orchard in the middle of nowhere the heaving crush of her breasts to my chest still a dizzying warmth I couldn't before the moment have imagined. We stood discussing my pursuit of Alberta - as I stood my arm still frantic violence about her waist, the nails of her hand clawed onto mine which was still crushed to a touch of supremely personal intimacy - I perhaps in corners of my mind almost daring to believe that an embrace of entwining, fondling intimacy was something of the reeling, dizzying abandon for her which it was for me.

"Jack -" she finally continued some incomprehensibly timeless eternity later, "do you want -"

It's my arm drawn about her waist with brutal violence, my mouth buried onto hers in writhing, devouring want. It's her body slammed again to my own, a half moment's wild, frantic caresses - a hand flung to her shoulder - to the straps of her dress. It's the same startled gasp wrenched from her throat, she flinging wide, gaping eyes to a hand flung up and down her body in frenzied, searching caress, writhing in helpless, trembling violence, flinging her eyes to her shoulder and the straps of a dress about to be ripped from her body.

I'll never quite know why I yet again demanded a half moment's frantic pause of myself, flung my eyes again to hers. It was another timeless half moment's confusion, one of the Spenton aunts yet again gasping in startled amaze not quite certain why her clothing was about to be ripped away.

And it was all in another half instant as bizare and dizzying an awakening as any I could ever have imagined, the same raw, burning delight in her eyes as she realized I was indeed about to rip every last shred of clothing from her body. And yet it was something as quickly seeming amused mirth settled into her features.

"I mean - I mean - do you want to - be presented to Alberta, Jack -?"

I needed another moment and another timeless, reeling eternity.

"Oh - yes - I guess so -" was the best I could do - and the thing just never ending. I stood, I just couldn't again deny, crushing one of the Spenton aunts into my arms, stood an hour after I had first set eyes on her about to rip her dress from her body - and Doreen Spenton yet again waiting another absolutely timeless moment. She genuinely hadn't, I knew with some sudden and strange certainly, anticipated more than a few moments of liscivious mischief in an apple orchard a mile or so from the residence. It might almost have been a moment's familiar, amused annoyance for me as I saw terms such as "boyish beauty" in her eyes, she supposing that I might gaze a moment's imagining intrigue toward her, that I might for her teasing and necessarily caressing little dance searching for a bothersome insect allow myself a fleeting moment's liscivious imagining though never really suspecting that I could find her genuinely exciting and arousing - and she in that seeming the same sudden moment come from nowhere burying quick, perceptive eyes to my own, she seeing that in my eyes which couldn't be feigned, seeing that which I suspect was a raw, frenzied want I'd never before known with quite the same dizzying, almost maniacal ferocity - and she just waiting, another moment and another incomprehensibly timeless eternity, the heaving crush of her breasts to my chests as I cradled her body onto my own torturing, It was helpless, falling abandon like none I had ever before known - a woman who was agonizing beauty and feminine allure to inexplicable extremes as helplessly unable to retreat from the moment as I was. I stood crushing her into my arms desperately wanting to rip every last shred of clothing from her body - and finally dared believe that she was indeed just waiting, a frantic flash of her eyes to hands helplessly clawed onto her body, another timeless flash of her eyes to mine - one of the Spenton aunts, I finally dared believe, suspecting that my desire to rip every last shred of clothing from her body was very genuine and as frantic a desire as any I had ever known - and one of the Spenton aunts, I finally dared believe, indeed just waiting - she giving me every possible opportunity to rip every last shred of clothing from her body.

"Jack -" she and I yet again awakening together, that same edge of settling amusement in her features, "Alberta really is a very sweet girl. And she hasn't expressed the least objection hearing rumors that one of the Collinsville Collins might be considering a suit for her hand."

I settled back into reality myself, Doreen Spenton and I finally extracting ourselves from an eminently entangling embrace. I edged my eyes again to those of one of Spenton aunts to whom I had been presented a hour ago - whose body I had just slammed into an embrace of caressing, mauling intimacy. My life over, I stood wondering again how I could possibly have so mistaken matters, I assuming there to be an instant and knowing attraction between myself and an august, proprietous Lady of the Court.

And it was yet again the matter of bizare and timeless half instant. I'll always believe it was something very genuine pounding into the honest depths of my heart even as it was Doreen Spenton telling me that I had mistaken absolutely nothing - and Doreen doing so, I finally realized, quite as I might have anticipated, that in an apple orchard which seemed dizzying, falling oblivion just never ending.

"Jack -" Doreen Spenton gasped before I could voice a single word of apology, "oh Jack - it was a spider. I'm certain it was, and it's bitten me. Look and see where, Jack -" a steadying arm wrapped about my waist, my arm about hers, the hem of a form fitting dress worked an excruciating distance up her legs, her dancing for me maddening as she covered my hand with her own, my caressing - and unsuccessful search for a spider bite lasting another year or two.

"Jack -" little more than gasping mirth in her voice, unfeigned, blatant delight in her eyes as I lifted my lips from her neck, "I don't think the spider bit me on my ass."

And so began my suit for the hand of the fair Alberta Spenton, that, I suppose, as ludicrous a courtship as any imaginable, I riding the train from Collinsville in giddy delight, stepping from the train in Spenton and standing another moment on the platform in brooding wonder. I would indeed have to spend at least a few polite minutes in the drawing pressing my suit for the hand of the fair Alberta before the rest of my time in Spenton would be constant, unrelenting delight. There'd be at least one bothersome insect, Doreen's dancing for me maddening - this perhaps to be the time we met each other's eyes knowing we just couldn't stop, the pretense gone as flung ourselves into unfeigned, frantic lovemaking.

Stop, I genuinely, I'll always believe, demanded of myself walking into the Spenton's residence fantasies which were - consumating coursing into every corner of my mind. I decided it all nothing more than innocuous mischief between myself and Alberta's aunt Doreen, decided it enough that she'd torture me, her dancing for me agonizing - and she as she had in an apple orchard the day I had first set eyes on her finally edging eyes awash with frantic ambivalence to mine. She, no more than I, had anticipated anything more than innocuous, perhaps liscivious mischief - and she and I with a timeless, culminating embrace of our eyes speaking every last intimacy, she and I knowing that it was the same thought raging in every corner of our minds - and the thing that which I can only call culminating, knowing intimacy, I standing a frantic arm around Doreen's waist, a caressing hand run up and down her body searching for an insect bite - I edging my eyes to hers knowing the crush of her hand atop my own was the ultimate intimacy spoken to me - was yet again, at least for a fleeting and yet incomprehensibly timeless moment, her assent to whatever manner of intimacy I wanted.

"Why Jack - I don't think you were searching for a spider bite at all -" one of the Spenton aunts had finally chuckled in quiet, amused mirth, she an hour after I had first set eyes on her finally retreating from a moment which couldn't be called a great deal less than consumating, a Spenton aunt and I again deciding that our bodies entwined about each other's in caressing, writhing embrace was just the consequence of a bothersome insect and a matter of necessity - and Doreen's manner of retreat in our apple orchard a thousand or so miles from the residence torturing to every exquisitely agonizing extreme. "Jack - we should, I suppose, get back," I standing an arm around her waist, a caressing hand still lain to her leg, a demanding hand atop my own - one of the Spenton aunts and I admitting that my lips touched to her neck in fondling caress and my run up and down her body in searching, exploring caress as she stood writhing in my arms her breath frantic gasps might have appeared just a bit improprietous to an impartial observer. "Why - Jack, here we are in the middle of absolutely nowhere," Doreen suddenly noticed. "What are they to say - a handsome young rescuer holding me in his arms - sliding a teasing hand onto my ass - wrapping a brutal arm around my waist - wanting to ravish me, Jack - every last inch of me, Jack - wherever you want until I'm a helpless captive in your arms - your lips crushed onto my neck, a hand to my ass, Jack - until I'm shuddering and writhing in delicious ecstasy - oh Jack, yes - my ass, Jack - yes - ravish me, Jack - strip me - ravish me -" and I, even in a moment of raw, dizzying oblivion not quite like any I had ever before known, finally suspecting that Doreen Spenton was shuddering and writhing in delicious ecstasy for a brutal arm drawn about her waist, her body crushed onto my own, her body mine to devour with caresses of wild, frenzied abandon. I'd demanded of myself yet another half moment's pause, had flung my eyes to hers - had, I suppose, felt as foolish as I had ever felt in my life wondering yet again if she wanted to be striped and ravished as desperately as I wanted to strip and ravish her.

"Jack -" a final shuddering gasp - and it's the same bizare little process, a moment's awakening lucidity in her eyes, she and I standing in each other's arms at the edge of a precipice knowing retreat this time just wasn't possible.

And it was, as soon as we had retreated, little more than another minute's respite from an unrelenting torture which I'd finally and to my ecstatic delight realized was going to be unrelenting indeed. I walked from the train station into the Spenton's residence over the next few months deciding as always that it couldn't be anything more than innocuous, knowing mischief between myself and a Lady of the Court - even if, after a requisite few minutes duty toward my intended Alberta I could anticipate "a few more minutes" with her aunt Doreen, could, perhaps in the residence gardens and usually long after midnight, anticipate at least one entwining, fondling dance - one of the Spenton aunts and I finally seeing that same awakening pause in each other's eyes, perhaps even sheepish, mirthful resignation our innocuous mischief this time involving my ripping the shoulder straps off yet another of her ballroom gowns - one of the Spenton aunts, I finally dared believe, flinging eyes awash with ecstatic delight toward another ruined ballroom gown, flinging her eyes back to mine finally deciding that nothing had changed between us - Doreen burying her eyes to mine another fleeting yet incomprehensibly timeless moment, giving me every opportunity to rip every last shred of clothing from her body. She and I standing at the edge of that same knowing precipice, one of the Spenton aunts finally effected a retreat from another entangling, clawing embrace - and Doreen's manner of retreat always the same, she with accusing delight in her eyes wondering if I was about to rip every last shred of clothing from her body, wrestle her onto the lawns, my hands flung to caresses of clawing, groping intimacy - "every last inch of me, Jack, until I'm writhing and shuddering in a helpless frenzy of exquisite, agonizing ecstasy -" and that which a moment before had been a moment's awakening pause just become another incomprehensibly timeless moment's fall from a precipice, her speaking my every liscivious little fantasy aloud just liscivious mischief, she and I deciding that my clawing a bit more of her gown away had to be just another moment’s mischief - one of the Spenton aunts and I standing in some secluded corner of the gardens perhaps at four in the morning, Doreen allowing me another fleeting moment’s pause, she and I availing ourselves of the flask - Doreen edging her eyes back to mine frantically wondering if I still felt inclined to tear every last shred of clothing from her body.

I'd come to Spenton pressing my suit for the hand of Alberta, genuinely enjoyed a half hour in the drawing room with my intended, a dance or two with her in the ballroom, Alberta with knowing mischief in her features voicing no objections whatsoever to my participating in a suit preordained successful by Spenton's and Collinsville's ruling potentates. It was amicable monetary negotiation, perhaps even a glance or two of inspecting scrutiny though even that just negotiation over matters which we both supposed could be postponed for the moment. Duty finally discharged to our mutual satisfaction, it was nothing more than amused mirth in my intended's features she realizing that something about a tomato processing plant wasn't of any immediate interest to me, my eyes yet again straying in that which I might have considered inappropriate directions.

"You and my aunt Doreen are - exceptionally fond of each other, aren't you, Jack?" a young Spenton lady as skilled as any such in the nuances of social etiquette stealing a glance toward ruling potentates about the ballroom, the same amused mischief in Alberta's features when she'd determined the prevailing mood of the room. "One more dance with me, Jack. Then you and my aunt Doreen can go off and do - whatever it is you do with each other all weekend long."

Doreen, a few minutes later, provided a crowded ballroom subtle hints.

"Jack and I," she declared as she drew my arm onto her own, "are having a sordid, torrid affair, rip each other's clothes off at every opportunity. He's mine for the rest of the weekend. And I don't intend to end our affair until the very last moment."

"Oh aunt Doreen - and in front of the bishop too -" Alberta's sigh, even then, amused mirth.

I had indeed passed the rest of my time with Alberta's aunt Doreen, will always believe that she as well intended nothing more than innocuous mischief inquiring as to whether or not I might enjoy her company "for a few minutes" - she and I perhaps seeing moments of sheepish, amused reserve in each other's features as we sat in a restaurant twenty miles from Spenton, perhaps a theater of few hours later - one of the Spenton aunts as we strolled arm in arm about a secluded corner of the gardens usually long after midnight perhaps stumbling once or twice, I flinging an assisting arm about her waist - she and I both satisfied that nothing had changed between us when I'd ripped the shoulder strap away from her dress and seen a fleeting moment's wild, giddy delight in her eyes, perhaps even a timeless moment's pleading abandon until we'd yet again decided it all just another moment's mischief - and an afternoon on the beach not long after we had first met that which it always was between us, knowing, unabashed mischief to every outright liscivious extreme. I stood with Doreen along our secluded wooded path she and I both wearing next to nothing, perhaps that same moment's sheepish pause in our eyes as we realized we had indeed wandered off into the middle of nowhere wearing next to nothing - and Doreen after a steadying gulp from her flask leaning at the edge of the path examining flowers, a glance over her shoulder just to be certain that she was entirely naked as she did so. Just mischief, I decided, and wondered if she suspected that another moment's imagining on my part had been a fall into as dizzying and culminating a fantasy as any in which I've ever indulged. I've wrenched her into my arms, have flung devouring hands up and down her body, she every picture ever painted, the alluring feminine ideal to incomparable, not quite explicable extremes. Stop, I might tell myself for a half moment knowing I'm indulging in imagining gone blatantly over the edge, might for another half moment remind myself that she's one of the aunts - even if wearing clinging bathing attire which just hasn't been there for the past hour now.

"Jack -" Doreen choosing the moment with that seeming uncanny precision, torturing me and knowing it's exquisite, maddening torture, "oh Jack - look how far we've come. Why - we're in the middle of nowhere - all alone - and here I am wearing absolutely nothing in the company of an exceptionally handsome and - exciting young man -"

I tried a mirthful chuckle as we stood at the edge of the path smoking cigarettes, Doreen's posture perhaps a half moment's writhing little dance - and the thing yet again more than she had genuinely intended or anticipated. I can in a rational mood see something of her years in her features, can admit that that I've known other women in their early forties toward whom a moment's liscivious gawking was intensely enjoyable. And the years in Doreen Spenton's features in another half instant just aren't there for me, are hardly there for an impartial observer. The curves in her form, however, most certainly are there, they simply - more curving, a feminine allure which is something a world more than just the numbers. It might along the edge of that wooded path have been another moment's knowing, mirthful amusement, a Spenton aunt quite aware that a man my age might gawk toward her in blatant, devouring delight. And still - she hadn't quite dared believe that age, position, all manner of other perceived obstacles could be stripped away in another half instant. She couldn't, I suppose, have imagined something which I can only call the ultimate, she for me just as she was feminine beauty and allure which is that inexplicable, forever imagined ideal, both her features and her form seeming the ideal I might have imagined all my life - a change of posture which might have been a half moment's dance of sultry writhing leaving me standing in a reeling, falling oblivion not quite like any I had ever before known.

"Jack -?"

I'll never quite know why a hint of amused question in her voice seemed an invitation to lung, to wrench her body into my arms, bury my lips onto hers, to fling my hands up and down maddening feminine beauty and allure at last mine devour with caresses of wild, frenzied abandon.

"Doreen -" I answered - as I stood in dazed reeling confusion another timeless, terrified eternity or two. It was indeed nothing less than her eyes wide with the same startled fright, I finally suspecting that it had indeed happened again - had this time happened on a secluded wooded path she and I wearing next to nothing, I finally suspecting as I stood in paralysis crushing her body into my arms that it might be advisable and appropriate to stop doing so. I might start, I decided in some dazed and clouded corner of my mind, by removing the hand I'd flung from her waist to a touch of blatant, fondling intimacy.

"Jack -" and I stood another year or two waiting for one of the Spenton aunts to gasp aghast outrage - even as I stood in that which I suddenly couldn't deny was a dizzying, falling ecstasy I could never have imagined possible. I stood telling myself another frantic, maniacal moment that it hadn't happened - and stood as quickly wondering if it had been seconds or hours, the warmth of her lips a timeless, searing ecstasy, I burying my mouth onto hers in a writhing, devouring frenzy of raw, abandoned want. I'd known in some distant, not quite dared corner of my mind that it was one of the Spenton aunts who I had wrenched into my arms, might even have allowed myself a timeless half instant's lucid pause knowing that it was Doreen who struggled in my arms in writhing, flailing desparation - and the thing for me a finished wash of dizzying, blinding sensation. It's her body finally mine to search with my hands, her warm, naked beauty mine to devour in wild, frenzied abandon. It's all of the agonizing, maddening ecstasy I had known it would be, her breasts the voluptuous feminine ideal, the crush of her breasts onto my chest an immersing warmth like none I could ever have imagined. It's yet again restraint flung away entirely, she struggling in flailing panic and yet it's a hand flung again to her waist, a hand flung on - a frenzied hand finally thrust beneath cloth until it's her round, broad feminine curves onto which I've flung a searching, devouring hand. It's yet again the blinding, maddening ecstasy I had known it would be, her curves the warm feminine ideal finally mine to devour without caution or restraint.

"Jack -" she cried out in furious outrage, a final flailing twist of her body, frightened, startled eyes flung to caresses of frenzied, groping intimacy. "Jack -" a final explosive gasp, "fuck me -"

I stood another timeless, dazed eternity not quite certain why something about her furious outrage seemed a bit odd - and I'll always believe it was yet again something pounding into the honest depths of my heart even in the midst of an oblivion of raging, wanton desire. I stood yet an arm wrenched about her waist with brutal violence, a hand pressed to a touch of supremely blatant intimacy - she crushing a hand atop my own and she, I knew in another bizare half instant, no more certain than I as to whether it was a restraining or a frantically urging hand crushed onto mine. I stood even then knowing that it had to be her breath exploding from her throat in angry fury, she in another moment to gasp indignant outrage - and the thing yet again a bizare and incomprehensible half instant, the fright in her eyes vanishing quite as I might have expected in one sudden moment. It was something indeed pounding into every corner of my heart even as it was a maddening, dizzying warmth I could never before the moment have imagined, her breasts the voluptuous feminine ideal to every incomparable extreme, the heaving crush of her breasts onto my chest my entire existence - and I flinging my eyes to that in hers which I finally dared believe was wild, assenting abandon. I finally dared believe that she had indeed given me something more than subtle hints this time, finally suspected that glances toward me along our secluded wooded paths might have been all of the abandoned imagining which my glances toward her had been. I finally dared believe that she might indeed have felt all of the raw and primal attraction for me which I felt for her, something seeming a helpless and raging want which just never stopped - finally suspected that a frenzied cry of "fuck me" was her assent to something a bit more than innocuous mischief.

We stood at the edge of our secluded wooded path located in some other world another timeless eternity or two - and finally saw something close to awakening lucidity in each other's eyes, perhaps even that same edge of resigned amusement.

"I mean - now stop, Jack - behave -"

It was she and I standing in frantic, entwining embrace seeing the same reeling mirth in each other's eyes.

"We should -" she finally tried, "we really should, I suppose, be getting back, shouldn't we -?" a very genuine attempt to retreat from something which neither she nor I had intended or anticipated - and the thing just not stopping, Doreen as though helpless to do otherwise just flinging herself on into yet more mischief. "I mean - what will everyone say, Jack - you standing here holding me in your arms - wanting to tear my bathing suit away - wanting to ravish me, Jack - wanting to run your hands up and down my body - every last inch of me, Jack - wherever you want - my ass, Jack - oh yes - rub me - grope me - more - harder -"

It's several hundred more years. I'd strolled with Doreen Spenton along our secluded wooded paths wondering what it would be like to hold her in my arms she and I wearing next to nothing, had indulged in all manner of liscivious little fantasy - and none of it coming anywhere close. It seems impossible that I could ever before the moment have held a woman in my arms. She's warm beauty and allure which is an impossible, voluptuously curving ideal, the thing for me an immersion a raw, liquid warmth not quite like anything I could ever before have imagined. It's that stance at a bizare edge, is falling sensation which simply can't be resisted - and is just something incomparably more knowing that she as well just can't stop, she writhing in shuddering abandon for my lips buried onto hers in searching, wanting caress, my hands flung up and down her body in frenzied, devouring caress, she settling her body onto my own in helpless, finished abandon, writhing for caresses yet again become fondling, groping abandon - a gasp of primal abandon wrenched from her throat for my hands clawed onto cloth which I have to rip from her body.

And with that, we yet again along our secluded wooded path saw a half moment's awakening lucidity in each other's eyes. It's even then timeless in ways I could never before have imagined, she and I fallen into something from which we must retreat - and neither she nor I knowing how. It might finally have been the bizare, awakening mirth it's been any number of times in the residence gardens, one of the Spenton aunts and I now standing along a secluded wooded path suspecting that my hands clawed onto her bathing suit might have been something a bit more than innocuous mischief.

We decided, I suppose, that the obvious was as good a means as any to effect a retreat.

"We should, I suppose, be getting back," Alberta's aunt Doreen pronounced. It worked - and that perhaps a final half instant's terror as I let one of the Spenton aunts step from my arms.

"Oh - Jack -" a Doreen who refused to allow me that terror began, the thing yet again a mix of genuine heartfelt emotion and amused, reeling mirth, she as usual deciding that liscivious mischief was as good a means as any to retreat from liscivious mischief. "Oh Jack - look what you've done -" she standing at the edge of our wooded path flinging her eyes to straps pushed from her shoulders onto her arms, sliding a hand to her waist noticing the rest of her bathing attire pushed into precarious, revealing disarray - a flash of her eyes just to be certain that the dance she performed for me was torture to every maddening, agonizing extreme - another flash of her eyes which I knew by then was abandoned, unrestrained mischief.

"Oh - Jack - why look what you've done to my bathing suit -" a caressing hand to her shoulder, a hand slid onto her hips. "You've almost pushed my bathing suit off entirely," and urging hands to mine, my hands lain to her shoulders and hips. "Jack - help me with my bathing suit -"

I'll never really be certain why we just couldn't stop, a familiar dance performed this time to every blatant and obvious extreme. It's wild, unfeigned delight in her eyes as she watched me run a fondling hand about her shoulders and her bathing suit’s straps. It's her arms drawn to my neck, writhing twists of her body for my hands slid from her shoulders to her waist, another half moment of blatant, fondling caresses - the thing in another bizare half instant a ludicrous pretense flung aside entirely as we edged our eyes toward each other’s in blatant, unfeigned intimacy.

It’s something incomparably more than it had been just moments ago, she and I this time denying absolutely nothing. It's her body mine to search and explore with my hands, trembling gasps wrenched from her throat for my caresses. It's our breath become gasping fury for denial and pretense flung aside entirely. It's even then a fleeting moment's hesitating pause - and it's she and I leaning together, she and I touching our lips to each other's in a timeless moment's searching, writhing caress. I’ve buried my eyes again to those of one of the Spenton aunts, a Doreen who even if feminine beauty and allure to incomparable, never explainable extremes might just an hour ago have seemed unapproachable, unattainable, all manner of practical and social barriers between us - and yet all of those barriers suddenly and again meaningless.

It’s reeling, falling abandon not quite like any I had ever before known. It might even then have been some bizare, mirthful despair, that which had been a genuine attempt to retreat on both of our parts just ending in something we could only call a consumating, knowing intimacy between us. It might even then have been another moment’s reeling confusion, she even then one of the Spenton aunts, she never quite daring to believe that I could see her as genuinely attractive - and the thing another bizare, timeless half instant, almost that same dizzying mirth, she yet again realizing that she had never mistaken a thing, she knowing that she’s feminine beauty and allure for me which is that forever imagined, not quite explicable ideal. She was, even in the moment, that same perceptive brilliance - and it might even then have been some dazed. reeling mirth between us, Doreen quite aware that I wasn't "inexperienced." And it was another half instant, was yet again blinding oblivion I could never quite have imagined - she letting me cradle her in my arms even after I'd given up entirely, a struggle against a raw and primal want for her futile. It was finally the ultimate intimacies helplessly and entirely obvious - one of the Spenton aunts fifteen years my senior never quite daring to believe that I could find her genuinely arousing - and Doreen even in a moment which I could only call consumating already some uncanny, perceptive brilliance knowing that my aroused want for her was helpless, pounding ache which I'd never before felt with anything close to the same ferocity.

I stood with her on our secluding wooded path wrapping frantic, wanting hands onto her hips, onto a bathing suit which I'd already pushed into disarray, the finished, pounding want of my body for hers so helplessly obvious - and Doreen speaking every last intimacy with an urging, crushing touch of her hands to my arms, that in her eyes which I knew with strange and sudden certainty was little less than frantic, pleading assent. She was Doreen to me even then, the barriers there for a half instant - and the thing just that strange, pounding fall to the edge as I knew the woman I held in my arms wanted exactly that which I did, her body for my pleading caresses fallen into the same primal want. It was nothing less than another helpless flash of her eyes toward the finished, aroused want of my body, her eyes flung back to mine, the crush of her hands to my arms urging violence.

And it was all in another half instant just some new falling abandon - Doreen even in the midst of our gasping, frenzied oblivion having to speak it all aloud.

"Jack - why - I think you're trying to push my bathing suit off entirely -"

It's my hands slid from her waist beneath a bit of light flimsy cloth - her breath exploding gasps, her writhing dance for me maddening.

"That's - that's what I'm trying to do, Doreen," I whispered, playing with cloth which I have to rip away.

"Oh - Jack - then you do want to -?" the final pretense flung aside. "You want to push my bathing suit off and then - we're not going to stop, are we - we really are going to make love -?"

It was she and I with amused mirth in our voices pretending in reeling corners of our minds that it was all just the blatant, knowing mischief it had always been between us.

And it was yet again every pretense finally flung aside. I'm holding one of the Spenton aunts in my arms - and it might have been a moment's culminating, hysterical mirth between us. Twenty minutes in the drawing room with my intended Alberta had been several more points of monetary concern negotiated to our mutual satisfaction - and my weekend in Spenton had yet again been constant, unrelenting delight with the only woman who had ever existed, sheepish glances toward Doreen Spenton wondering if she ever imagined something more than just innocuous mischief between us. And it seemed along our secluded, wooded path the moment I'd waited for all my life, my Doreen letting me cradle her body with frantic, pleading strength, letting me run trembling, searching hands about her hips - her breath frantic gasps, the caressing, pleading touch of her hands to my arms a reeling, falling ecstasy. It was yet again she and I standing our eyes buried to each other's in finished, knowing intimacy - was yet again a gasp of pleading assent wrenched from her throat for my hand crushed onto cloth which I have to push from her body - and she and I as we always did allowing ourselves one final, half instant’s awakening pause.

I’ll never know how we could finally, even in a moment which was all but consumating, see that same edge of frantic ambivalence in each other's eyes, she and I deciding again that our dancing with each hadn't ever been anything more than knowing mischief - she and deciding that a dance become all but consumating couldn't be anything more than some culminating, abandoned mischief between us.

And yet it was still, even when little more than some bizare, sighing mirth between us, a dizzying, reeling abandon I could never quite have imagined, she and I allowing each other a half pace - and she and I frantically searching for some way to retreat from that which we finally couldn’t deny was a physical attraction toward each seeming ludicrously inescapable, something I can only call chemical or magnetic. I'm standing with one of the Spenton aunts, her demeanor in an uncanny instant almost seeming some aloof, august reserve, the dignified propriety I'd seen countless times in the Spenton residence - and yet it just doesn't stop, she and I now standing a half pace from each other our hands wrapped to each other's arms with frantic, pleading strength, she and I knowing again that it's pretense and denial finally gone.

"We should - " she finally whispered, "we should get back - shouldn't we, Jack -?"

It just never stopped, was dizzying oblivion like none I could ever have imagined. It's her eyes awash with pleading assent, the bite on her nails onto my arms a blinding ecstasy. It yet again seems some impossible fantasy become reality, she waiting for me to wrench her back into my arms, she and I as soon as I do so to tear a bit of cloth from each other's bodies - perhaps that same lingering edge of confused ambivalence still in her eyes.

And even when a means of retreating from it all finally coursed into my mind it seemed my every cherished, longing hope realized.

"Maybe - maybe another sip, Doreen -" I suggested, a nod toward the flask, a flash of her eyes toward it - little less than despairing disappointment in another flash on her eyes toward mine.

"Jack -" the same explosive gasp - and the same sigh or resigned mirth. "Yes - of course - a sip might be - settling -" one of the Spenton aunts sighed, chuckled - buried waiting eyes to mine another incomprehensibly timeless eternity, she and I finally leaning for the flask.

One of the Spenton aunts as we strolled back toward the beach exuded august dignified propriety even after we'd returned our attention to her flask, Doreen Spenton even in the midst of a staggering stumble some poised feminine beauty and allure to inexplicable, entrancing extremes. We settled back into reality as it was for us, perhaps a consoling touch of her hand to my arm as she declared us prisoners of fate - perhaps another moment's knowing mischief, she and I deciding it might be a few more months before the ruling potentates of the realms decided any irrevocable decisions were necessary between myself and Alberta. Behave, Doreen and I both, I suspect, demanded of ourselves - perhaps sheepish glances every few moments for that which we couldn't deny had been little less than consumating abandon between us. It had along our secluded wooded paths been another few moments of dazed, wondering oblivion, a tavern in Collinsville running through my mind, several young women my own age - and Doreen my entire existence walking at my side along our secluded wooded paths, the warmth still something I had never before known with anything close to the same immersing, enveloping ferocity.

And it was yet again just something a world more, the same wondering oblivion - the whole thing, I knew again with that same strange and sudden clarity, just as new for Doreen. The most beautiful and impossibly alluring woman who had ever lived had flung eyes awash with little less than dazed, startled fright to caressing hands run up and down her body. Even if raw, burning want which couldn't have been mistaken, it hadn't for moments been anything less than a very real edge of girlish fright in my Doreen's eyes.

Behave, we both urged of ourselves strolling secluded, wooded paths back toward the beach, Doreen and I contenting ourselves with the flask, perhaps a few liscivious glances in which we ripped the bathing attire from each other's bodies - she and I waiting at least until we were in sight of the beach before reverting entirely to character.

"Oh Jack - this path -" blatant mischief by then settled back into Doreen's eyes as she nodded toward a path off to our left, "it leads down to a secluded little beach in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh -?" waiting delight in my eyes even if she was one of the aunts again. And still, she was Doreen to me, blatant, liscivious mischief now spoken with an unabashed glance of our eyes toward each other.

"I spend the occasional afternoon down on that beach just to be alone, sometimes for an entire afternoon. I will sometimes revel the entire afternoon in girlish delight on my private little beach - will discard my bathing suit entirely -" a flash of her eyes toward tortured agony in mind. "I think I should enjoy showing you that beach sometime this summer, Jack - perhaps for an entire afternoon - showing you all of it - every last inch -"

Fleeing from Spenton on the back of a '54 Chevy, reposing a night in a motel in the middle of nowhere, I'd passed the time in lonely remorse with a bottle of gin - and had fled for musing, shuddering moments back to a secluded little beach in the middle of nowhere. Doreen's and my strolling our secluded wooded paths toward that beach had, we'd decided at least in the rational corners of our minds, been nothing more than another moment's liscivious mischief - perhaps as intense and reeling a few moments of abandoned imagining as any I had ever known. She's one of the Spenton aunts, is yet again an unapproachable princess of the realm. She's august, poised majesty even after another sip from her flask, she the Doreen toward whom I had edged liscivious eyes in the Spenton residence's ballroom, she obviously the tall, hourglass ideal to every voluptuously perfect extreme though imagining in the ballroom never anything more than futile and frustrating. And I strolled at her side along our secluded wooded path daring another fleeting moment's abandoned, culminating imagining, dared believe that an isolated, hidden beach would indeed be culminating mischief - and Doreen choosing the moment with that seeming the same uncanny precision. She's august, unapproachable propriety, a requisite comment or two regarding my intended Alberta and the demands of duty - an edge of that which I decided was questioning intrigue settled into her eyes she seeing liscivious imagining in mine.

"Oh, there - just ahead - my little beach which no one knows about. Oh - but you must be anxious .to get back -?"

"No," a panicked gasp, little more a sheepish, amused sigh. "I'd like to see this little beach, Doreen - maybe a few more minutes -"

"Why Jack, I do believe you would -" a teasing gasp, her dancing for another several paces excruciating though she as quickly one of the Spenton aunts, a glance of accusing mischief as I dared notice that she was agonizing, maddening feminine beauty and allure with every step she took - a glance toward me which I couldn't any longer doubt was pouting annoyance if I noticed trees or anything of the sort for more than a pace or two.

We'd strolled onto a secluded, wooded beach in the middle of nowhere deciding again that our doing so was just innocuous mischief - admitted perhaps in not quite dared corners of our of our minds that our secluded little beach was located in some other world. And still, it hadn't yet, I suppose we both for moments remembered, been all that long ago that a teasing caress of her knee to my own in the drawing had seemed licentious, abandoned mischief.

"Well - here it is, Jack, my own secret little beach."

I'll never quite remember turning,

wrapping pleading hands to her waist, not quite daring to believe that I had done so.

"Come on, Doreen - you promised -"

"Jack -" she gasped - and nothing in another timeless moment more than the mischief I'd seen countless times before in her eyes and yet something which I'd known was a wild, giddy abandon as she stepped back several paces.

I stood in dazed paralysis as one of the Spenton aunts danced for me, a writhing little twist of her body, hands to her shoulders and to the straps of her bathing suit, the same almost girlish delight in her features as she pulled a bit a clinging cloth from her body, let it fall to the sand. She danced on without the least hesitation, caressing hands pushed from her waist to her hips, the rest of the bathing suit pushed from her body to the sand.

It was yet again reeling paralysis not quite like any I had ever before known, Doreen standing several paces away from me her dancing another moment's unfeigned, abandoned eroticism, Doreen showing me everything, wild, giddy delight in her eyes for unfeigned gaping abandon in mine. I'll never really know what I had been expecting, had indeed over the past few months allowed myself all manner of pleasurable little imagining in Doreen's company. I had for the past hour now allowed myself moments of culminating imagining in the company of one of the Spenton aunts, wondering what she would look like even with two pieces of clinging cloth gone. And I stood on our secluded wooded beach in reeling, paralyzed disbelief. She was all of the fancied images and yet she was something incomparably, inexplicably more, everything I suddenly knew I had wanted and imagined her to be ever since the moment I had first set eyes on her. I could even in that moment in some not quite understood corner of my mind see a woman ten or fifteen years older than myself dancing entirely naked several paces away from me. And I was gazing in one more incomprehensibly timeless instant toward the woman who was indeed some inexplicable feminine ideal, every painting and every statue I had ever seen, Doreen simply that ideal which I had imagined all my life. It was the notion of age suddenly seeming ludicrous, just not there. Doreen could have been anything from girlish charm to the agonizing, hourglass ideal to every impossibly alluring and voluptuous extreme.

I'll never quite know what I had expected the next few moments to be, one of the Spenton aunts stepping from my arms, sliding teasing hands to her shoulders. I'd supposed it was indeed to be Doreen Spenton who even standing naked must be some unapproachable, august majesty, an unapproachable barrier in the air between us. I'd supposed it to be some air of proprietous reserve between us even in the midst of abandoned, licentious mischief - and the thing in another sudden instant seeming coming from nowhere just some new reeling, falling abandon like none I had ever before known. She wasn't dancing any more. She stood several paces away from me her eyes rather than a teasing flash buried in finished intimacy to mine - the thing a moment's awakening for me and yet again something I had never before known in quite the same way, something which I genuinely hadn't anticipated even after a moment's all but consumating abandon just minutes before. I wasn't, I realized again in reeling corners of my mind, inexperienced, was familiar enough with moments ultimately intimacy. And I stood on that secluded wooded beach in the middle of nowhere feeling little less than some outright boyish and sheepish reserve. It hadn't been anything more than a moment's dancing - that nothing I hadn't seen any number of times in the past in the likes of wrong side of the tracks taverns. And it was yet again a moment seeming come from nowhere, Doreen standing entirely naked several paces from me on that secluded wooded beach, her eyes suddenly buried to mine, her breasts suddenly heaving in a breathless fury - as I stood in something I could only call a boyish, sheepish reserve for that become in nothing more than moments an aroused want of ferocity I knew again I had never before known, a pounding and aching want to helpless and finished extreme I couldn't before the moment have imagined possible. She was, even in that culminating moment, Doreen Spenton standing naked several paces away from me, Doreen who in the Spenton residence was dignified propriety, entirely unapproachable - and it just didn't make any difference, the want of my body for hers yet again become the ultimate and primal want to every helpless and finished extreme.

It was either another moment or another incomprehensibly timeless eternity of reeling paralysis - and I'll never quite remember falling those several paces forward, wrapping pleading hands to her waist - standing again in dazed disbelief that it had happened. I buried my eyes to hers - and I'll always believe it was something pounding into the honest and genuine depths of my heart even as I stood trembling yet owning and possessing hands to Doreen's waist, and she even as she stood entirely naked letting me hold my hands to her waist. Our secluded wooded beach was supposed to have been just another moment's liscivious mischief between us, Doreen after pushing her bathing suit to the sand perhaps to turn and flee, a few more moments of giddy, juvenile delight between us - and it was Doreen letting me pull her closer, her breath frantic gasps as she let me hold caressing hands to her waist.

It was yet again something more than I could ever have imagined it would be, Doreen standing her eyes buried to mine - and her hands in another sudden moment touching my waist, touching my bathing suit. It was yet again something I'll never quite remember. I pushed the cloth from my body onto the sand - edged dazed, not quite believing eyes to hers - and realized in another sudden moment that it was still her hands clawed onto my waist with unfeigned, frantic violence.

It had been she and I standing a half pace from each other, our hands capturing violence to each other's waists, Doreen and I standing our eyes buried to each other's in waiting intimacy. I'll always believe that it was something pounding into the honest depths of my heart even then, Doreen the one person in Spenton who wanted to pass time with me, she and I spending entire days with each other, she and I seeing knowing mischief in each other's eyes, knowing it a constant and unrelenting delight spending a day with each other - and the thing in that sudden moment come from nowhere yet again the ultimate intimacies revealed to each other, this time without the least possibility of pretense. I'll always believe that it was something neither Doreen nor I had genuinely intended or anticipated - Doreen even pushing the bathing suit from her body never quite daring to believe that I could gaze anything more than liscivious intrigue toward one of the Spenton aunts.

And it was yet again something I couldn't before the moment have imagined. It was nothing less than her eyes lowered for a helpless and timeless moment to the want of my body so helplessly and entirely revealed to her - and the thing that same not quite believing fall through a void when I realized it was just her hands clawed with the same frantic strength onto my waist - Doreen just falling closer to me, that in her eyes which I couldn't any longer doubt was frantic, pleading assent.

I'll never know how both Doreen and I could have waited another timeless moment - she and I standing our eyes buried to each other's yet knowing it seemed consumating between us already, she and I knowing it seemed the same pounding ache for both of us, and ache that it finally be our bodies joined and one in the ultimate touch of intimacy - and it had finally been Doreen and I seeing that which we had to see in each other's eyes, the same confused and despairing ambivalence as we realized we hadn't indeed intended it to happen

"Jack -" she finally tried, just an edge of the same mischief settling into wide, pleading eyes buried to mine, "now Jack, let me go. Why - you're to be married soon -"

I crushed owning, possessing hands to her waist another timeless moment, something very real, very genuine pounding into every corner of my heart - and my courtship in Spenton yet again seeming as ludicrous an affair as anything imaginable.

It had indeed been the entire afternoon, Doreen and I with the same wild, knowing mischief in each other's eyes deciding we had to wander a few more minutes entirely naked at each other's sides on our secluded, wooded - she and I with stolen glances knowing it all in a sudden moment come from nowhere an intimacy grown between us seeming finished and irrevocable. It was she and having no idea how we were to leave our own private little world, she and I happy in it, desperately wanting just a few more minutes in it. And it had yet again seemed timeless in ways I could never before have imagined, Doreen perhaps leaning, examining driftwood or something of the sort, she in our own private world mine to devour as I pleased, the thing for moments everything I had imagined it must be, and she something inexplicably more than I could ever have imagined. She's something a world more than just the numbers. I could, even in that moment, see those subtle little hints of her age in her features, could readily admit that I had in the Spenton's ballroom seen an unusually attractive woman in her early forties, she in form fitting ballroom attire eminently, voluptuously attractive. I had any number of times in such as the Spenton's ballroom given myself up to blatant, liscivious imagining, gawking glances toward feminine curves seeming the round, voluptuous ideal, ballroom attire finally torn away as I gave myself up to the ultimate in abandoned imagining. And it seemed again a sudden, blinding moment come from nowhere, she leaning over another tangled pile of driftwood, dancing naked for me on our secluded wooded beach - and it's that which it always was, something incomparably more than the imagining. It's every last doubt gone, my Doreen that which I could yet again only call the blinding, feminine ideal to every impossibly perfect, never quite explicable extreme.

It was everything I could ever have supposed it must be, images of feminine perfection formed in the ballroom - and Doreen dancing naked on our secluded, wooded beach everything the images had been and yet something incomparably more. And yet it had on that secluded little beach been something even more than that, something a world different than I could ever have imagined, something even in the moment which wasn't quite explicable or comprehensible. I stood in dazed, spellbound oblivion, she perhaps leaning over another pile of bleached driftwood, a moment's dancing seeming timeless. It was one of the Spenton aunts who turned this way and that, a moment's writhing dance which was all of the blatant, outright bawdy abandon it was supposed to be. It's a hungry, devouring glance toward her breasts, toward feminine perfection to every ideal and voluptuous extreme. It's finally my eyes lowered in devouring abandon toward curves with are broad and round to those which are the same impossibly perfect and ideal extremes - wild, giddy delight in a flash of her eyes over her shoulder, something which I could only call girlish delight in her features as she danced naked for me without the least pretense.

And it all seemed the matter of one more timeless moment, Doreen Spenton as she danced for me on our hidden, secluded beach even then one of the Spenton aunts, voluptuous beauty and allure to every impossibly perfect and blinding extreme - and yet she in that one, culminating moment, I finally realized, indeed just a girl for me. It suddenly seemed impossible that I had ever seen her as anything more, age, position, all manner of differences between us seeming ludicrous. It was to begin with, I supposed, an exercise in giddy, juvenile mischief for both of us, Doreen and I from the start seeing knowing mischief in each other's eyes, she and I dancing all manner of blatant, teasing mischief - and yet the thing on our hidden, secret beach just something incomparably more. She stood a half dozen paces from me another moment's exotic dancing, I even yet not quite certain why I was gazing in numb paralysis toward a girl - until it seemed another timeless and culminating instant come from nowhere, seemed so ludicrously obvious. I'll never really know how long I had stood in finished, reeling abandon after I had given up entirely, my eyes drawn again to a ballroom gown which just wasn't there - my eyes drawn toward the ultimate intimacy of her body - my Doreen just a girl for me.

It had been another moment's blatant, writhing dance for me, amused delight in her eyes for that which I suspect was constant, gaping disbelief in my own. It was all of the licentious, knowing mischief it had always been, one of the Spenton aunts even in the moment seeing me as "boyish" yet she on our secluded wooded beach allowing herself moments of culminating, vain intrigue - one of the Spenton aunts eminently aware that she danced entirely naked for me about a pile of tangled driftwood. It was Doreen and I daring perhaps for fleeting moments to remember a moment of culminating, entwining abandon just a few minutes ago - and she and I now existing alone in some other world.

And it was that which it always was between us, something a world more than we'd intended - something incomparably more than mischief suddenly in her eyes. It seemed again my every hidden, secret want and hope realized, she just a girl standing a few paces away from me, she edging her eyes to mine, seeing something incomparably more than she'd anticipated. It was that which yet again seemed consumating in a bizare half instant. It might again almost have been a half instant's bizare, reeling mirth, Doreen even as she danced naked a few paces away from me supposing there to be some inhibiting barrier between us, she just one of the aunts engaging in brazen, licentious mischief - and her stance in another moment all of the helpless paralysis my own was. It might almost have been another moment's culminating, dizzying mirth for both of us, Doreen with a flash of her eyes realizing again that she stood entirely naked for me on our secluded, wooded beach, she edging her eyes again to mine knowing that those inhibiting barriers just didn't exist for me - and the thing seeming that same fall from a precipice. It was supposed to have been another few moment's of giddy, juvenile mischief, perhaps another requisite word or two regarding preordained fate - and she in that same moment seeming come from nowhere edging her eyes to mine as I stepped forward, she as I did so turning from her driftwood toward me - she as I stepped forward burying waiting eyes to mine.

I'll never quite remember falling those two or three paces toward her, never quite remember raising my arms. It had suddenly and again seemed impossible that I had ever existed without the naked warmth of her body cradled onto my own. I couldn't for another timeless moment dare believe it was happening all over again - until it was quiet though primal cries wrenched from her throat for my caresses, the exploding fury of her breath against my cheek a dizzying ecstasy not quite like any I had ever before known. I had, I could admit even in that moment, held other women in my arms over the years - and it was yet again every doubt gone on that secluded wooded beach, seemed again the moment for which I had waited for all my life.

It was every pretense flung aside. She was one of the Spenton aunts, the inhibiting barriers there for a fleeting moment - and it's my arms crushed onto her waist with frantic, capturing strength, a pleading touch of my lips to hers - the thing yet again my every longing, cherished hope realized for her lips touched to mine in a timeless moment's urging, assenting caress.

I'll never quite know why it was Doreen and I in one more moment flinging lucid, waiting eyes toward each others.

"Jack - we should be getting back -" she tried.

I nodded - and just stood in that same timeless, reeling oblivion. She's one of the aunts, she Doreen Spenton who in the drawing for my glances of liscivious imagining had touched a caressing, teasing knee to mine - and it yet again seemed a single moment come from nowhere. It's simply everything I could ever have imagined, she feminine beauty and allure which is incomparable. It might almost have been that same bizare moment's sheepish pause, one of the Spenton aunts attempting a demeanor of settling, awakening propriety - she entirely naked for me, my arms frantic, owning intimacy as I stood crushing her body onto my own, a hand run to caresses of trembling, fondling intimacy, she following my caresses with her eyes, her breath gasping fury as she edged her eyes back to mine.

"Doreen -" I whispered, deciding for one fleeting moment that it might indeed be time to retreat - back to my intended Alberta - and the words seeming wrenched helplessly from my throat. "Doreen - you know it isn't Alberta I want. It never was. Doreen - you know why I've been coming to Spenton for months now. Doreen - it's you I want. I've wanted you from the moment I first set eyes on you -"

"Jack -" a quiet gasp - her nails dug with frantic strength onto my arms. It seemed again a ludicrous moment since I had first set eyes on her in the drawing room, a moment since it had been the teasing, caressing touch of her knee to mine - and she letting me crush pleading, owning arms onto her waist, she yet again letting me run searching, exploring hands up and down her body. It was yet again that in her eyes which seemed nothing less than girlish, might even have been some very real fright in her eyes - and her nails just bitten onto my arms with that which I finally dared believe was genuine, frantic pleading. It yet again seemed something which just couldn't be possible, she feminine beauty and allure to every incomparable extreme, and that which was indeed girlish fright in her eyes - and fright, I finally in one more blinding moment suspected, for something which was indeed just as new and strange to her as it was to me.

It was yet again something not quite explicable, she and I waiting one more timeless instant - and she and I seeing that first edge of frantic ambivalence in each other's features. It might again almost have been some bizarre, reeling mirth. We'd yet again genuinely demanded restraint of ourselves, had supposed our quiet wooded beach might be moments of liscivious mischief. I'd strolled onto that beach with one of the Spenton aunts supposing there to be a knowing physical attraction between us even if there were all manner of obstacles to our expressing that attraction - and she and I yet again in that seeming a single, unguarded moment standing in naked entwining intimacy, our eyes buried to each other's she and I knowing it some chemical or magnetic attraction from which escape just wasn't possible.

"Jack -" she finally tried - and it was, even then, exactly that which I now supposed it had to be, "Jack - why - here you are holding me in your arms all over again - kissing me - won't let me go -" and it's a half moment's writhing twist of her body, perhaps a bizare and fleeting moment's very genuine attempt to escape me - her dancing for me blinding, agonizing. It's my arms crushed about her body with frantic violence, a burying touch of my lips to hers, a moment's and a timeless eternity's fondling caresses - she and I flinging our eyes back to each other's deciding on another moment's "harmless, innocuous mischief."

"Why Jack - I think you do indeed find me - exciting -" my hand still lain to a caress of blatant, fondling intimacy.

It's perhaps a gasp of frantic mirth - is yet again a timeless, reeling oblivion for urging hands covering my own, her dancing for me agonizing as she let me play with her body as I pleased. It was raw, burning delight in her eyes - until she decided it time for another moment's pause - and that yet again as bizare and reeling a moment as any I could ever have imagined.

"And Jack - I think - I think you want to have sex with me -"

It's another timeless eternity, something I can only call consumating as it was. It was just another moment's culminating, licentious mischief between us - quiet, primal gasps wrenched from her throat as she let me cradle her body onto my own with frantic, capturing strength, the thing a dizzying falling abandon for voluptuous beauty and allure mine to search and explore with my caresses. It's a hand flung again to caresses of fondling intimacy, the urging bite of her nails onto my arms that same dizzying ecstasy.

It was yet again a fleeting moment and incomprehensibly timeless as I flung my eyes to hers knowing I just couldn't stop this time - and her eyes awash with pleading assent - until it was yet again just licentious, knowing mischief between us even if to every bizare and ludicrous extreme.

"But - but I'm not really certain that anyone other than ourselves might consider - our having sex with each other appropriate. One or two of my meddling sisters, now that I think of it, would be most annoyed. Oh - and there's my brother, of course, James as intransigent and dictatorial a monarch who ever lived. But you already know that -"

"Yes - I suppose I do -" I chuckled, gazed gentle, genuine appreciation toward one of the Spenton aunts - as I stood my arms wrapped about her body with frantic strength, Doreen and I standing our eyes buried to each other's attempting a moment's reasoning pause, all of the inhibiting differences between us spoken - and she and I crushing biting hands onto each other's bodies knowing it once more become something to which it seemed we were utterly, ludicrously helpless. It might again almost have been some culminating amused mirth between us, one of the Spenton aunts and I walking onto our secluded wooded beach supposing it might be a few moment's licentious mischief though she still not quite daring to believe that it could be anything more - and she with that same flash of her eyes knowing again that it's all something incomparably more for me than anything I've ever before know.

"Jack -" that same quiet gasp - and the thing yet again the ludicrously bizare to every possible extreme, her eyes buried to mine without the least pretense, clawing, pleading hands wrenched onto my arms until it's her body yet again mine to devour as I wished. "Jack -" a gasp of assenting abandon as she urged my hand to fondling intimacy, her writhing dance agonizing - and she in that same instant remembering that our having sex with each other might by some not be considered appropriate. "Jack - we can't -"

I struggled as well for that half moment's lucid, awakening pause - will never quite know how she and I could wait even in that moment. I'll never quite know how it could be little more than some dizzying, ecstatic mirth for me even in that moment. My sweet, girlish Doreen needs to see a wanting frenzy in my eyes, needs to know that I just can't resist, must devour her with my kisses and caresses. It's finally that which I had suspected it might be all along, Doreen for months now gazing all of the swooning intrigue toward me which I gazed toward her - my body as well on our secluded wooded beach hers to devour with her lips, with her hands. It's finally my Doreen needing to know that I'm resting at some precarious edge where retreat just isn't possible, a frenzied flash of her eyes toward that which was already a touch of our bodies to each other's in ultimately personal intimacy - and her eyes flung back to mine, she remembering only then that "we can't." It was she and I flinging dazed eyes toward each other's, was yet again warmth like none I could ever before have imagined as I just cradled her body onto my own with owning violence, the heaving crush of her breasts to my chest immersing and enveloping in ways I'd never before known.

"Jack - we can't -" a gasping whisper - and it might even in that moment have been some hysterical, reeling mirth between us, was that which I'll always believe had been a struggling attempt to retreat on my part - and desparate, pleading hands clawed onto my arms, something I could only believe was a gasp of startled panic wrenched from her throat - something I couldn't any longer doubt was frantic pleading in the crush of her hands to my arms as she refused to allow me retreat - I wrenching brutal arms about her body, giving myself up again to all of the raw, burning want I felt for her. She was one of the Spenton aunts - and it's restraint even then flung aside entirely, she mine to devour with my hands until it was yet again that which in so many ways seemed finished and consumating already.

It was she and I standing naked and entwined in each other's arms, she and I standing our eyes buried to each other's, our breath gasping fury - and she and I knowing again that it was something a world more than all of our other entangling dances - she and I knowing it this time the most personal intimacies of each other's bodies become our entire existence. She was one of the Spenton aunts even in that moment, the inhibiting barriers there for a timeless, fleeting instant - and it's my hand clawed with brutal violence onto her ass, my want for her something I had never before known with anything close to the same helpless, finished ferocity - and the thing just something incomparably more for the urging bite of her nails onto my arms, the woman who stirred in me wants of primal, helpless ferocity yet again speaking the ultimate intimacies. It was she and I standing entwined in each other's arms our eyes buried to each other's - and she and I knowing that it was the same helpless, finished want for both of us - that which I could only call a maddening, agonizing want that our bodies be one with each other's in the ultimate touch of intimacy.

I stood crushing one of the Spenton aunts into my arms, the thing a raw, dizzying oblivion not quite like any I had ever before known. It was yet another timeless moment's reeling pause, she impossible, incomparable feminine beauty and allure - I deciding again that I had mistaken everything. It might have been something I can only call a moment's boyish and sheepish pause, I deciding it ludicrous thinking that she might have felt the helpless and desparate want for me which I felt for her.

And it was yet again a bizare half instant - my Doreen as I cradled her body onto my own trembling, that same almost girlish fright in her eyes - and her nails bitten onto my arms with pleading strength she yet again speaking it all aloud.

"Jack -" her voice a gasping whisper - "you - really want to -? You - you want to have sex with me -?"

It might again have been some dizzying, hysterical mirth between us. I'll never quite know how we could both just wait another moment and another incomprehensibly timeless eternity. We just "couldn't," saw something which I could only call a despairing ambivalence in each other's eyes - and the thing yet again the ultimate in the ludicrous, she and I naked, standing entwined in each other's arms our embrace arresting restraint, a writhing touch of our lips to each others, she and I knowing it seemed some inexplicable, agonizing need, something from which escape just wasn't possible. It was she and I touching our lips to each other's another timeless moment - and it was dazed, reeling oblivion I could never before have imagined, our mouths buried onto each other's in frantic, devouring want. I stood on our secluded wooded beach with one of the Spenton aunts, had first set eyes on her a seeming moment or two ago, had for a caressing touch of her knee to my own perhaps allowed myself a fleeting moment's abandoned imagining, had perhaps in some vague, not quite dared corner of my mind wondered what it would be like to hold a woman who was agonizing in my arms in naked embrace. It had seemed since then a few more moments and a ongoing, unrelenting oblivion of raw, falling abandon, I for moments daring to believe that glances toward me were all of the primal longing my glances toward her had become. And it yet again seemed that moment come from nowhere. It seemed impossible that I could ever have existed without the naked, entwining warmth of body - and the thing just new, dazed oblivion for the crushing strength of her arms around me, her hands flung as frantically up and down my body, the thing yet again something inescapable to inexplicable extremes, existence just not possible for either of us unless we stood entwined in each other's arms our mouths buried onto each other's in devouring want - our eyes yet again buried to each other's in devouring intimacy, our breath gasping fury she and I knowing it yet again the ultimate want, a want that our bodies be one with each other's in the finished act of intimacy.

"Jack - we can't -" she whispered again - and her doing so just some futile little ceremony between us. She's one of the Spenton aunts. I might for another fleeting moment have seen the august, unaproachable majesty I'd seen so often in the residence ballroom, might for a reeling moment have gazed toward ballroom attire and a form which had to be an impossibly voluptuous ideal - and she letting me cradle her body onto my own with finished, wanting violence, she and I simply two people who'd known from the moment we'd first set eyes on each other that it was an inexplicable, ravenous attraction between us, she and I knowing that it's been the same thought raging in every corner of our minds ever since. I'll always believe it was something genuine and honest pounding into my heart even in that moment - even as I just couldn't deny that my want for her was constant, unrelenting ferocity I just couldn't have felt for any woman other than her - and the thing yet again my every longing, cherished hope come true, her want for me spoken in that same timeless half instant, her want for me the same not quite explicable violence.

It was she and I clawing desparate hands onto each other's bodies knowing we just weren't going to stop this time, she and I finally speaking it all - and the thing yet again a bizare and ludicrous half instant. She was one of the Spenton aunts, an unapproachable princess of a feudal, intransigent realm - she as well standing in that which I knew was the same sudden, despairing ambivalence, she as well knowing that it was all ludicrous and impossible - she and I finally seeing some finished, awakening lucidity in each other's eyes.

"Jack -" and our manner of retreating from a moment which was all but consumating that which now seemed a bizare little ceremony, "Jack - why - here you are - a hand on my ass all over again -" blatant, wicked delight in her eyes, a writhing touch of her lips to mine. "Now Jack - let me go -"

And it was, even as I let one of the Spenton aunts step from my arms, a dizzying, reeling abandon not quite like anything I had ever before known - she stepping from my arms and that in her features which was as obvious and girlish a pout as any I had ever seen.

"Jack -" a gasp of giddy, girlish delight as she eluded my lunge for her - she and I on our secluded, otherworldly beach finally playing juvenile games as they were supposed to be played.

She and I finally turning our attention back to her flask, it might even then have been another few moment's bizare amused mirth, Doreen one of the Spenton aunts, she and I settling back into reality as it was for us - and Doreen realizing in another moment that she stood entirely naked for me on a secluded wooded beach in the middle of nowhere - and she sighing little more than amused delight for that still in my eyes which I suspect was dazed, reeling disbelief.

"Jack - I think we should -"

"No - not yet - another few minutes -" or some such gasped plea - and an entire afternoon on a secluded wooded beach in the middle of nowhere like none I could ever have imagined. She was Alberta's aunt Doreen who after another sip from the flask stood a few paces away from me with pouting delight in her features.

"Jack - why - I think you're keeping me a helpless captive on this beach - all afternoon now -?"

"Off course I am -" I could answer without pause.

"Why - you think me your slave girl -"

"Who must dance for me again. Come on, Doreen -"

It's some other world for us, Doreen my obedient slave girl dancing now without the least pretense - and her dancing exotic, writhing allure which is agonizing, her eyes awash with wild, giddy delight for that in my own which she couldn't any longer doubt was unending, entranced fascination. It might that afternoon have been moments of awakening wonder, a Spenton aunt and I sharing a flask, she for moments sighing brooding commiseration admitting that the reigning monarchs of the Collins and Spenton clans were intransigent despots, I sighing gratitude toward the Spenton aunt with whom I passed most of my time whenever I visited Spenton. I'd edged my eyes again toward Doreen's, decided again that I felt closer to her than I did to my intended - as she stood two or three paces away from me the thing yet again that which I can only call consumating, knowing intimacy between us. I've yet again, as I have the entire afternoon, given up entirely - and she as well knowing it's my eyes awash with finished, wanting abandon. She knows I'm not going to stop this time, knows that my reaching for the flask is nothing more than pretense - the thing yet again my every cherished hope and want come true. It's the same ambivalence in her eyes - and it might again as she handed me the flask have been a moment's reeling mirth between us.

"Stop it -" she demanded for a caressing touch of my hand to hers - and I'll always believe it was something very genuine pounding into every corner of my heart even as it was raw, falling sensation I had never before known with anything close to the same ferocity.

"Doreen -" I pled finally without the least pretense, "It's you I want. You're the only woman I've ever really wanted -"

"Jack - no -" and her dance for me blinding, a writhing twist of her body attempting to escape pleading hands touched to her waist, and she for nothing more than a touch of my hands standing a helpless, docile captive, she edging burning, devouring eyes toward mine.

"Jack - no - we can't -" and it's another half moment's bizare, dizzying mirth. It's that which it's been the entire afternoon, one of the Spenton aunts whispering a very genuine no - her dance to escape urging hands touched to her waist agonizing, maddening allure - she and I yet again burying, desparate, pleading eyes to each other's knowing we just can't stop this time.

And it was, even as we did stop, something which just never ended, Doreen and I spending an entire afternoon on a secluded wooded beach located in some other world, telling ourselves, I suppose, that it was just more knowing mischief between us - admitting perhaps in corners of our minds that we just couldn't leave our otherworldly beach until we'd given in to something seeming inescapable to every ludicrous and inexplicable extreme.

"No - you can't, Jack -" my slave girl pouted as she wandered toward another patch of flowers in a little glade a short distance from the beach, unfeigned, giddy delight in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder. It was unending, dizzying oblivion knowing she wanted another few moments of unfeigned, caressing intimacy, she and I perhaps attempting another moment's futile pretense, telling ourselves in corners of our minds that it still wasn't anything more than licentious mischief between us. It seemed again a bizare moment since I had first set eyes on her, she for another incomprehensible moment one of the Spenton aunts walking a pace or two ahead of me on our secluded wooded paths, she unapproachable, reserved propriety even if wearing ballroom attire revealing a figure which couldn't be anything less than a voluptuous feminine ideal to every impossible extreme. And it yet again seemed that moment come from nowhere, one of the Spenton aunts entirely naked and she the blinding, agonizing beauty and allure I had known she would be, she flinging eyes awash with reeling delight over her shoulder as I wrapped an arm about her waist, cradled her body onto my own - her body mine to play with as I pleased.

"Stop it - I mean it this time - let me go -"

It was yet again that which I could only call some knowing, unifying intimacy between us. It's a half moment's purring pleading, my slave girl writhing to escape a ravisher - a half moment's very genuine attempt to escape me, a half moment which was reality crashing about us from every direction.

And I just never stopped, cradled her body onto my own with capturing strength - she one of the Spenton aunts and yet her body mine to do with as I pleased. It was yet again that which I could only call a knowing convention between us, one of the Spenton aunts for my frantic caresses struggling to escape me, I perhaps demanding of myself a fleeting half moment's awakening pause knowing that I've flung myself this time into something become a maniacal, unrestrained abandon gone beyond every possible limit - and the thing yet again every last intimacy spoken between us in another incomprehensibly timeless instant. It's my arms flung around her waist with brutal strength, existence just not possible without the naked warmth of her body curled onto my own, her body mine to search, to devour with my hands. It's nothing less than liscivious and wanton abandon, her breasts mine to fondle in a devouring frenzy. It's a crushing arm wrenched about her waste, my eyes flung to round, voluptuous curves which are the maddening, feminine ideal, the warm, naked crush of her body onto mine that which I could only call a torturing ecstasy. It's yet again her body writhing in helpless abandoned violence - is yet again a very genuine attempt to escape me. It's my lips crushed onto the back of her neck with frenzied, wanting violence, my hands flung up and down her body without caution or restraint - her arms entwined about my own, the bite of her nails onto my arms a dizzying ecstasy. It's finally her body collapsed entirely onto my own, her struggles against the desparate strength of my embrace useless - she for another fleeting instant one of the Spenton aunts who is absolutely helpless to me.

I cradled her body in my arms another timeless eternity - and it was it yet again something not quite explicable. She was one of the Spenton aunts, the thing perhaps a half instant's fright for that which must this time have been brutal abandon gone beyond every limit.

And it yet again seemed every last intimacy spoken in another bizare and timeless half instant.

"Jack -" a writhing twist of her body, a flash of her eyes over her shoulder, my slave girl's voice pleading and purring, "let me go -"

I cradled her body onto my own with frantic, capturing violence. And it was, even in another moment which we couldn't call less than consumating, some painful, foreboding despair. I cradled her body onto my own a final moment with desparate, frantic violence, decided I was never going to give her up now that I had found her. I buried my lips onto her neck, her breasts mine to search with caresses of fondling intimacy. She's writhing in my arms knowing it's yet again an abandoned, liscivious delight for me, her curves agonizing feminine perfection, she just as she is the most beautiful and alluring woman whose ever lived - and she and I yet again knowing that we must sooner or later abandon our secluded wooded beach and return to a world of brutal, inescapable reality, she and I yet again knowing that "we couldn't."

It was "one more moment."

"No -" my slave girl cried, her breath helpless gasping fury for my hands pushed to caresses of frenzied, searching intimacy. "No - stop -" and it's an arm drawn about her waist with capturing strength, her writhing struggles yet again agonizing - the thing yet again something incomparably more than I could ever have imagined. She's the only woman who has ever existed, images which I might have formed over the past few months just not close. She's writhing in my arms knowing it's some culminating, dizzying abandon for me, her curves those which I can only call a blinding, agonizing feminine perfection, she just as she is the most beautiful and alluring woman whose ever lived.

It seemed another culminating moment come from nowhere. She's one of the Spenton aunts standing in my arms on our secluded wooded path - and it just doesn't make any difference. She's mine to cradle in my arms with frantic, owning intimacy. It's her breasts finally mine to play with in finished, unfeigned abandon. It's voluptuous, naked warmth I couldn't before the moment have imagined. It's yet again a lascivious, outright bawdy abandon, her curves broad and round to every ideal and alluring extreme - her frantic writhing struggles just a new, maddening allure. It's yet again her body mine to wrap onto my own with desparate, abandoned strength. It seems again impossible that I could ever have existed without the naked warmth of her body crushed onto my own - and yet another writhing struggle to escape me little more than a dance of frantic pleading, a gasp of shuddering relief wrenched from her throat for her body crushed helplessly onto my own.

It was yet one more moment come from nowhere, was yet again every last intimacy spoken between us in a bizare half instant.

"Jack -" her voice a gasp of raw, frantic pleading - and the thing one more bizare and ludicrous half moment. It's yet again every last doubt gone - my Doreen knowing that she just as she is stirs in me wants of a helpless, finished ferocity I just couldn't have felt for any woman other than her. It was she and I knowing our existence become the ultimately personal intimacy of each other's bodies - she and I knowing that it has to be our bodies joined and one in the ultimate intimacy - and I'll always believe it was something pounding into the honest depths of my heart even in as ludicrous a moment as any I could ever have imagined.

"Jack - we can't -" though it was yet again on our secluded wooded path the ultimate intimacies spoken aloud. "Jack - we just can't. I'm still - young enough. I can still get pregnant -"

I'd passed a lonely night in a motel room halfway between Spenton and Collinsville. It might have been moments of brooding, wondering confusion. I'd yet again escaped my fate, felt for moments all of the jubilant relief I had felt a year ago escaping a preordained fate. And it had as quickly in motel room in the middle of nowhere been lonely, despairing pain I couldn't have imagined a year ago, I never again to see the woman who I just couldn't deny had over the past few months become my entire life - and I'd flung my eyes the following morning to a jailor who quite as I might have anticipated had strolled without the least hesitation to a chair a pace or two from the bed. I'd sighed anything from hopeless resignation to amused, relieved delight that it was my princess Doreen come to fetch me and return me to Spenton. I had with frantic pleading in my eyes declared that I felt myself closer to her than I did to my intended Alberta - had done so while sprawled all but naked on a motel bed that which might for timeless little moments have seemed scrutinizing mischief in the eyes of one of the Spenton aunts. I perhaps for timeless moments had dared to notice that one of the Spenton aunts, her demeanor and appearance august, dignified propriety, also happened to be agonizing beauty and allure to every impossible, not quite explicable extreme, she sitting on a chair a pace from the bed fallen as well into waiting silence, I deciding it might be time to push myself up from a bed in a motel room in the middle of nowhere.

And it was that which it always was between Doreen and me, she and I perhaps avoiding each other's eyes another timeless half moment. I'll always believe that half moment had been a genuine and frantic attempt on both of our parts to retreat from something neither she nor I had intended, will always believe that Doreen Spenton walking into that motel room had genuinely decided that it wasn't to be anything more than the usual knowing mischief between us - and she and I just giving up, burying our eyes to each others, the drawing room, the beach path - and finally everything else which had happened between us over the past few months coursing frantic paths through our minds.

It might almost have been another half moment's bizare, reeling mirth. We'd actually passed a sedate, rational five or ten minutes togther alone in a motel room in the middle of nowhere. It had indeed been one of the Spenton aunts sitting on a chair a half pace from the bed, she an august, proprietous, unapproachable princess of a feudal kingdom. I might indeed allow a jailor to return me to Spenton - and it's just another moment's dazed, culminating mirth. It had been gentle pleading in Doreen's eyes, pleading in my own for a Spenton aunt's gentle commiseration - I laying all but naked sprawled on a bed in a motel room, she sitting in a chair a step or two from the edge of the bed and I admitting it in not quite dared corners of my mind that same immersion in raw, liquid warmth. I'd just assumed it had to be some pleasant little torture even in the midst of emotionally frantic pleading, a few more teasing glances as I lay sprawled on a motel bed - I perhaps in those same, vague corners of my mind wondering why it suddenly seemed quiet hesitation in her voice, something ever more frantic in yet another devouring flash of her eyes.

And it was yet again something I had never before known in quite the same way, I edging my eyes to those of one of the Spenton aunts fallen into waiting silence on a chair a pace from the bed. It might again have been something I could only call a half moment's sheepish, boyish pause as I edged my eyes to hers - and it was yet again that which in so many ways seemed consumating already. It was that even as I buried my eyes to Doreen's, she one of the aunts, all manner of barriers in the air between us - and she and I yet again in one sudden moment knowing that age, position, all manner of barriers just didn't make any difference, she and I knowing again that it seemed something chemical or magnetic - she and I burying our eyes to each other's yet knowing it once again become something we could only call inescapable to ludicrous extremes.

It's yet again almost some dizzying, reeling mirth between us. She's my jailor arrived to return me to Spenton. And I'm going to pull my jailor onto the bed with me, rip every last shred of clothing from her body, ravish her in an abandoned frenzy - and the woman to whom I might just as well have spoken it all aloud hiding absolutely nothing from me, she sitting in a chair a step or two from the bed burying devouring eyes to mine, her breasts rising and falling in frantic, gasping fury - my jailor knowing she's absolutely helpless to me, is yet again my slave girl who will gasp in obedient, reeling abandon as soon as I wrench her onto the bed with me.

We waited a final moment, that the timeless falling abandon it always was. It's everything else which had happened between us over the past few months coursing frantic paths through our minds - Doreen and I burying our eyes to each other's knowing hesitation suddenly seemed entirely ludicrous. It might have been a moment's culminating, reeling mirth between us - Alberta's aunt Doreen attempting to reconcile me to my fate - and she finally giving up entirely, remembering that my courting Alberta for fifteen or twenty minutes in the Spenton's drawing hadn't ever been anything more than a ludicrous facade.

Visiting Spenton over the past few months, discharging various manner of duty toward my intended, I'd passed the rest of the time with Alberta's aunt Doreen who with amused mischief in her features informed Alberta that she was "appropriating this handsome young man for herself for the next few minutes." Leading a mildly and pleasantly inebriated Doreen onto the dance floor, anticipating little less than blatant, bawdy mischief, I was never disappointed. "Alberta's - both of them," Doreen might comment nodding toward my intended standing contentedly with socialites of various order on the other side of the ballroom, "are absolutely perfect, I suppose." I by then hadn't hesitated an instant. "Maybe," I chuckled - and Doreen's as I held her in my arms my entire existence, she always quick, perceptive brilliance though I don't suppose I was bothering by then to hide a great deal of anything to begin with. Yours, Doreen, I might just as well have declared aloud, are incomparable. I might for moments feel it necessary to remind myself that I was dancing with one of The aunts, an assistant professor of literature, a princess of the realm - and usually sometime long after midnight wondered if it had been she or I who had decided to coax the other onto the quiet seclusion of the lawns.

I stood with her perhaps smoking a cigarette, sharing a flask. We passed moments even on the lawns trying to convince ourselves that it had never been anything more than innocuous mischief between us, Doreen commenting on Alberta's appearance, I agreeing that my intended was an attractive young woman. And duty out of the way, I was free to notice that the woman standing at my side was agonizing, maddening, desperately wanted just another moment's torture - and Doreen of course in that same instant noticing a grasshopper or something of the sort settled onto her leg, she searching for it and the writhing little dance she performed for me torture to every exquisitely maddening extreme.

"Oh Jack - maybe it's a spider - do you see it -" a hand to my arm, a hand to the hem of her dress slid a maddening distance up her leg, my search for a bothersome, possibly nonexistent insect necessitating a timeless eternity's entranced gawking - a glance over her shoulder to be certain that I stood finally a in transfixed oblivion devouring curves which were agonizing feminine perfection to every impossibly voluptuous extreme.

Just innocuous mischief, I might tell myself again - might in corners of my mind wonder for something seeming ever more bizare and ludicrous. I had for months now assiduously promoting my suit for the hand of Alberta Spenton dutifully and frequently presented myself at the doors of the Spenton residence - and Williams on several occasions smirking in knowing mirth as he informed me that Alberta was indisposed and unable to receive callers, Williams wondering if there was anyone else in the residence to whom I might care to be announced. "Um - Doreen home -?" Williams as he escorted me to the drawing room seeing that which I suspect was ill concealed delight in my features, I to spend a weekend in Spenton without even having to bother with matters of duty. One of the Spenton aunts then inquired as to whether or not I might enjoy her company "for a few minutes" - and Doreen and I fleeing for the entire weekend onto our secret wooded beach located in some other world, she and I sighing ourselves back into reality as we finally returned to the residence and saw to a few minutes duty - and Doreen and I usually long after midnight standing on our secluded corner of the lawns.

"Doreen - another dance -" I could finally demand without the least pause.

"Jack - here on the lawns - way after midnight -?" aghast astonishment in her voice and features, little concealed delight in her eyes as I took her into my arms.

Dancing with one of the Spenton aunts on a secluded corner of the lawns, wondering if she had indeed noticed yet another rather blatant and protracted lapse of propriety on my part, I'd sighed little more than resigned amusement for accusing mischief settling into her eyes, hadn't by then the least doubt that her observation would be succint and to the point. "Jack -" little less than a girlish pout in her features, "I don't think you were looking for the spider at all. I do believe you were just staring blatantly and lasciviously nowhere but toward my ass."

Another few minutes on the lawns might have been the genuinely emotional commiseration it always was, perhaps subversive conspiracy regarding the ruling potentates of the realm, marriages arranged in Spenton and Collinsville quite as they might have been in feudal Europe, attitudes and opinion with which a "Miss Matty" would have been eminently familiar. I'd danced on the lawns for a few more moments with a princess aunt or an assistant professor - and yet she always in the end Doreen to me, all manner of pleasant little fantasy coursing through my mind.

"Jack -?" she of course at exactly the most intense moment began, "let's run away together."

If it was still mischief, it was mischief the way she played it, wide, pleading eyes edged toward my own, absolutely nothing seeming mischief in her features.

"Why not, princess," I finally answered, a hand edged from her waist to a touch of fondling intimacy.

"Oh Jack - I wasn't serious -" she sliding a restraining hand onto my own.

"But I was -" another teasing caress as I backed her onto the garden's walls, leaned, touched my lips to hers - dared admit for a fleeting moment that a caressing touch of my lips to hers was warm, sweet ecstasy like none I had ever before known.

"Now Jack - stop -" her giggle girlish, entrancing, maddening. "I wasn't serious -"

And I stood hearing that same edge of helpless question in her voice, her eyes flung to mine she knowing that I'd heard it indeed. We stood together in a secluded corner of the gardens a familiar little exercise in liscivious mischief played to its conclusion - and I a culminating evening just a week before I'd hopped onto the back of that truck flinging myself on.

"Doreen -" frantic pleading in my voice, "Alberta and I aren't in love with each other. If it weren't for family expectations, I could walk away from here and she'd forget me in a week. Doreen - it's an arranged marriage, uncles playing with money, aunts with lives."

"Jack - I know. But - it's ingrained here, Jack. It's just the way it is, and it's not going to change, not at least while the current moneyed potentates sit their thrones."

"And I'm - a prisoner, I suppose."

"Jack - I'm just as much a prisoner."

"Doreen - it's all so ludicrous. I feel far closer to you -" I yet standing pleading arms wrapped about her shoulders and waist, her body backed onto a wall in a dark, secluded corner of the gardens - one of the Spenton aunts and I daring for a fleeting moment to remember that weekends for months now our secluded, otherworldly beach had been the ludicrous facade flung aside entirely.

"Jack -" a Spenton aunt deciding it time for retreat, Doreen's manner of retreat that which it always was. "Jack, I am - flattered. Why - here you've gotten me way out in the gardens again - absolutely no one around -"

I gazed again in entranced wonder toward a Doreen who was simply a girl for me just as she was, the notion of age suddenly seeming ludicrous, entirely meaningless - exactly as it had from the start. I played on myself for a final timeless moments, raw, wanton desire in my eyes as I stood capturing arms yet wrapped about her shoulders and waist. I pushed a hand again to a caress of blatant, fondling intimacy, she flinging eyes awash with sultry, protesting delight to mine as she writhed for escape. I dared again at the edges of my mind admit that the woman I held in my arms was feminine allure I saw as inexplicable, agonizing perfection, a moment with her in my arms a dizzying oblivion of raw, immersing warmth I had never before known in quite the same way. Another moment, I decided as we stood in a quiet corner of the gardens, another stolen caress or two, another touch of my lips to hers, her protesting girlish giggles maddening. Just another moment, I decided, a pleading arm drawn about her waist, a caressing hand pushed along her shoulder, the straps of her dress there - the thing finally that same reeling oblivion of raw, falling sensation as I pushed the straps of her dress from her shoulder.

I'll never quite know if it had finally in a quiet corner of the gardens been the moment of terror it should have been. I stood an arm wrapped about her waist, brushed a caressing hand across the naked warmth of her shoulder. It's falling abandon not quite like any I had ever before known - something which in so many ways already seemed consumating. Just another moment, a touch of my lips to her neck a sweet, raw ecstasy, my Doreen finally mine to wrap into close, wanting embrace, my Doreen finally mine to search with my caresses. It's nothing less than a raw and lascivious abandon, she even then my sweet, beautiful Doreen, and yet it's the maddening warmth of her breasts crushed onto my chest again become my entire existence. It's my hand run from her waist to unrestrained, fondling intimacy, her curves the round and broad feminine ideal, the thing my every cherished want and dream finally come true.

I ran a hand back to her arm, to the straps of her dress - will never quite know why I finally edged my eyes to hers. It's a timeless moment's dizzying confusion, I perhaps searching for sultry mischief or teasing protest - after I'd run a hand to caresses of blatant, fondling intimacy, pushed that hand back to the straps of her dress, an arm wrenched frantically around her waist as I stood about to push the dress from her body - I finally edging my eyes to Doreen's suspecting in some dazed, reeling corner of my mind that my pushing the clothing from her body might be something a bit more than innocuous mischief.

I stood in a secluded corner of the gardens another half instant and another incomprehensible, timeless eternity holding one of the Spenton aunts in my arms, stood in dazed confusion - the woman whose body I had folded onto my own trembling with helpless, uncontrollable violence. It was, I realized in those clouded corners of my mind, her hands clawed onto my arms, the bite of her nails excruciating. And yet it was numb paralysis as I just waited - and stood again in dazed, reeling oblivion not quite daring to believe that it was her lips still an inch from my own, her breath quiet gasps - and her lips touching my own, her mouth buried onto mine in writhing, frenzied violence, the bite of her nails to my arms suddenly seeming excruciating ecstasy I could never before have imagined.

It was that which it always was between Doreen and me, something incomparably more than we had genuinely intended or anticipated. It might as we yet again flung our eyes to each other’s almost have been another half moment's awakening, reeling mirth, Doreen and I standing in a quiet corner of the gardens our breath gasping fury, she letting me wrap her body onto my own knowing I'm about to push her clothing away - she and I allowing ourselves a moment's awakening pause wondering if we could pretend all of this just another moment of innocuous mischief between us.

"Jack -" she of course deciding on blatant, knowing mischief, "I think - I think you're trying to take my clothes off - right here in the gardens -" a nod toward the Spenton residence rather than toward a secluded wooded beach.

It's perhaps a half moment's gasped mirth - and I stood yet my arms wrenched about her body with frantic violence, not quite certain why I did so, not quite daring to admit why I did so - not quite daring to believe that it's her body collapsed onto mine without the least pretense.

"Jack -" she tried again, her voice a trembling whisper. I stood in blind confusion no idea what to expect. It was indeed the residence gardens - and yet her arms around me with a strength I'd never before felt in quite the same way, her eyes awash with something I could only call a resigned pleading. "Jack - I really am the maiden aunt of the family. I’ve - I’ve never had sex before. If you - if you want to now, Jack - it will be my first time -"

It was, even then, that bizare fall from a precipice, an immersion in raw, liquid warmth as she and I stood entwined in each other's arms. And yet it was finally something a world more than just that. It's something of hammering violence pounding into every corner of my heart - and it's that in my heart which I knew had been there all along. I'll never quite know why I couldn't even in that moment quite dare the words.

And with that, it's that same bizare little mix of awakening despair and wild, reeling delight for both of us. If nothing else, she can't doubt that I was about to rip every last shred of clothing from her body. I at first sight had edged frantic eyes toward hers wondering if she might be amenable to my ripping every last shred of clothing from her body, wondering if she might even want me to as desperately as I wanted to. And I'd asked those frantic little questions, as often as not, either a moment before or after she had edged eyes awash with accusing mischief toward my own, she for months now succinctly declaring that I with another glance "had ripped every last shred of clothing from her body." We'd finally passed entire weekends together dancing in each other's arms, and five or ten minutes settling pause enough, Doreen and I frantically drifting back into each other's arms, the thing a strange little mix of despairing ambivalence and reeling, unrelenting ecstasy. The woman who I saw as agonizing needed to see raw, burning want in my eyes every five or ten minutes, needed to know that I couldn't pass more than five minutes at a time not wanting to rip every last shred of clothing from her body - and the thing the same strange little process, everything from giddy delight to despairing apology in my Doreen's eyes, perhaps a requisite moment's mention of my intended - and my Alberta's aunt Doreen and I five minutes later standing in each other's arms our kisses and caresses unfeigned, frenzied abandon, I yet again admitting that my pursuit of the fair Alberta was probably as ludicrous a courtship as any imaginable.

I had indeed for months now strolled every weekend with Doreen onto our secret wooded beach, a moment's recourse to the flask enough for both of us, she and I for entire afternoons pretending it nothing more than licentious mischief between us - she and I perhaps edging our eyes toward each other's for timeless moments and the facade flung aside entirely, Doreen and I admitting that our wandering hand in hand at each other's sides for entire afternoons on our secret, secluded beach might have been something a world more than mischief.

And it had on our otherworldly beach yet again seemed my every longing hope come true, the most beautiful and alluring woman who had ever lived dancing for me, a glance over her shoulder - and she letting me draw pleading arms about her waist, my lips buried onto her neck in devouring abandon - my Doreen finally turning, clawing violent, trembling hands onto my arms - the thing for another timeless moment a bizare mirth to every ludicrous extreme.

"Jack - we can't -" she whispered, a half moment's very genuine attempt to escape me - her eyes awash with that which I no longer doubted was wild, reeling ecstasy for pleading, capturing arms wrapped about her waist. It's our liscivious little games played to every ludicrous extreme. My impossibly beautiful and alluring Doreen needs to know that I just can't stop, that I want her with a helpless, falling desparation - and she flinging eyes awash with frantic, despairing ambivalence to mine, the thing yet again something to which it seemed we were both ludicrously helpless.

"Jack - we can't -" a quiet, pleading whisper, she and I resting entwined in each other's arms listening to the pounding of each other's hearts - and I finally edging wondering, amused eyes back to hers, that which was little less than pouting annoyance in her features until it was yet again her body mine to play with as I pleased, dazed entrancement in my eyes as a woman who was agonizing beauty and allure writhed in shuddering violence for my kisses and caresses yet again become unfeigned, abandoned lovemaking. It was yet again the pleading bite of her nails onto my arms, yet again seemed my every longing hope and want finally come true. It might again for moments have been some ultimate, frantic ambivalence between us, she and I denying absolutely nothing, all of the barriers there between us - and she flinging eyes awash with pleading desparation to mine, the clawing bite of her nails onto my arms a blinding, dizzying ecstasy.

"Jack -" and the thing bizare to every ludicrous extreme. "Jack - we can't -" her voice a pleading cry.

It was she and I resting our bodies entwined about each other's in an embrace which was finally to be the ultimate act of intimacy. It was yet again my every longing hope and want come true, she just as she was the most beautiful and alluring woman who had ever lived - and she yet again wrenching violent, brutal hands onto my arms.

"Doreen -" I'd gasped, "why can't we -?"

"Jack - I don't know -"

It was one more incomprehensible and timeless moment - and I'll never really know how we could see awakening pause in each other's eyes even in that moment, will never really know how she and I could yet again decide that we "just couldn't."

And it was, even then, a finished, falling abandon not quite like any I had ever before known as I decided I just couldn't stop this time - and every last pretense between us flung aside. It seemed again the moment I had waited for all my life - and that which I knew was a gasp of frenzied assent wrenched from her throat, the thing yet again something not quite explicable as I decided in a moment which was all but consumating already that "we just couldn't."

"Jack -" and I'll always believe it had been something very genuine slamming into every corner of my heart even as it was yet again a blinding, dizzying oblivion not quite like any I could ever have imagined - that in my sweet Doreen's eyes as soon as I had stopped which I couldn't any longer doubt was frantic pleading, her arms wrenched about my body with violent strength.

And it was that same timeless search for some way to retreat from yet another moment's finished abandon - perhaps some reeling amusement as we decided a flask, of course, our means of retreating. And it was even then something which just never ended, a steadying sip or two from the flask - and she and I seeing wild, reeling delight in each other's eyes knowing we had the rest of the afternoon, perhaps the rest of the evening to be alone with each other on our secluded little beach in the middle of nowhere. We yet again pretended that it was just wicked, licentious mischief between us, decided again that it was mischief which must end as soon as we returned to the residence - and afternoons on our beach the ultimate in the ludicrous, Doreen and I standing entwined in each other’s arms knowing the naked warmth of each other's bodies a maddening, unrelenting bliss, our kisses and caresses finally become unfeigned, frenzied violence - my Doreen standing my helpless, docile captive as I pushed cloth from her body.

It had seemed that same, sudden moment come from nowhere. I'd stood on a secluded, otherworldly beach my hands wrapped to her waist with trembling violence. I'd flung my eyes for a fleeting moment to those of one of the Spenton aunts - she even as she stood entirely naked retaining an air of aloof, majestic reserve. And still, it had been one more sudden moment - my Doreen yet again just a girl for me.

It might have been that same half moment's reeling mirth - she flinging her eyes the length of her body realizing she indeed once more stood entirely naked on our secluded wooded beach - and she flinging pleading eyes back to mine.

"Jack -" her voice a pleading whisper, "do you - do you really like me -?" her stance that which I could only call only call helpless and girlish.

It had yet again seemed something unexplainable - countless fantasized images just not close. I'd stood frantic hands crushed onto her waist, she just as she was feminine beauty and allure which was incomparable, an ideal to every impossible extreme - my Doreen flinging eyes awash with swooning delight to my own, another moment's writhing dance for me as we flung every last pretense aside.

It was just another afternoon's mischief - and one of the Spenton aunts and I living in some other world on our secluded, wooded beach, she in the moonlight long after midnight yet again edging eyes awash with wild, giddy delight to my own.

"Come on - one more time -" I commanded.

"No -" my slave girl pouted, reaching for the flask.

"Not till you do -" and it's my slave girl dancing for me without the least pretense, hands to her shoulder's and waist, the cloth yet again teased from her body - my slave girl's dancing at my command exotic writhing allure to every maddening, agonizing extreme. It's my Doreen fleeing a pace or two from another teasing pursuit, pouting mischief in her features as she declared herself my helpless captive not even allowed a stitch of clothing - and the thing yet again seeming a culminating half moment, a knowing glance - my Doreen for a pleading touch of my hands to her waist my docile, helpless captive.

"Jack - we can't -" and it had seemed a requisite and futile little ceremony out of the way. I'd wrapped her body to my own, she and I in some ways one already. It yet again seemed impossible that I could ever have existed without her - she for my kisses and caresses hiding absolutely nothing from me, her gasps primal, explosive violence.

"Jack - let me go -" another half moment's writhing dance in my arms, the thing licentious mischief between myself and one of the Spenton aunts - the thing yet again some reeling fall from a precipice, my Doreen gasping in helpless, trembling fright and yet her arms drawn about my body with brutal, urging strength.

"Doreen -" my voice a whisper of frenzied pleading, "Doreen - why can't we -?"

"Jack - because -" the thing finally that half moment's awakening, almost hysterical mirth which it always was - another culminating moment's reeling, confused despair for something so entirely ludicrous. She let me hold her another moment - and she and I awakening with the dawn on our otherworldly beach, the naked warmth of her body entwined about my own and the beat of her heart my entire life, she and I touching our lips to each other's a final moment - she and I seeing something I can only call a panicking despair in each other's eyes remembering that we only had another few weeks before we must face life's finished, awakening realities.

It was in our secluded corner of the gardens another moment's despairing ambivalence and yet that same timeless moment's consumating, knowing delight between us, pretense yet again flung aside entirely - the ultimate intimacies spoken between us. It might again almost have been another half moment's dizzying, amused mirth. She still can't quite believe that I can fling age, position, all manner of obstacles away entirely. She had, ultimately, known from the start that I had already succumbed to human nature, had with accusing mischief in her eyes asked if there were one or two young ladies in my past toward whom I might still feel a measure of amorous affection. There might be indeed, I'd admitted, little less than sheepish, boyish reserve in my features speaking the rest. And it was, in our dark, secluded corner of the gardens, yet again that which I can only call consumating in ways I had never before known - and Doreen letting me crush her into my arms knowing it seems impossible to me that I could ever before the moment have held a woman in my arms. It seems again that forever imagined ideal finally come true - Doreen the woman for whom I've waited all my life. I'll always believe that it was something even in that moment pounding into the honest depths of my heart, Doreen and I for an hour in our secluded corner of the gardens abandoning ourselves to emotional commiseration one moment, seditious, conspiratorial mischief the next. It was in the end, however, the ultimate intimacies spoken between us - she letting me wrap her into my arms, standing her eyes buried to mine yet knowing that it's her body become my entire existence, she yet again knowing that it's the primal want for me that our bodies be one in the ultimate act of intimacy.

It might even then have been another half instant's culminating, dizzying oblivion like none I could ever have imagined, my Doreen standing in my arms trembling with very real fright, another frantic glance toward the residence - my Doreen who in the little wooden shelter we had found on our private beach let me hold her in my arms throughout the night, our kisses and caresses teasing, fondling - my Doreen always in the end edging eyes awash with frantic pleading assent to mine.

"Jack - let me go -" and I'd opened my eyes with the dawn to a captive slave girl her body sprawled atop my own, her voice a whispering purr as she writhed against arms locked about her waist with frantic, capturing strength. "No - stop it -" one of the Spenton aunts laying naked in my arms, her body mine to search with my hands, her eyes awash with giddy delight as she watched me run a hand from her waist to caresses of fondling, exploring intimacy. "Stop it -" a girlish giggle, a caressing touch of her lips to mine - the thing the finished, dizzying ecstasy for which I had waited all my life - and the thing in that same half moment a painful, hopeless despair. She was one of the Spenton aunts, her demeanor as soon as we returned to the residence to be aloof, unapproachable reserve - she and I as we danced in each other's arms in the ballroom daring fleeting moment's of knowing mischief, daring only in vague corners of our minds remember that our secluded, otherworldly beach had seemed all but marital intimacy between us for months now.

We stood in the residence’s gardens - the thing the ultimate in the bizare. It had been one of the Spenton aunts who after a few minute's requisite dignity and propriety had finally given up, noticed a grasshopper on her leg, a flash of her eyes just to be certain that it was entranced oblivion in my own. It had been she and I finally dancing in each other's arms on the residence lawns - I awakening in fright realized that it was a frantic hand to her dress' shoulder straps - and Doreen and I remembering that this was the residence.

We stood in the residence gardens - perhaps an edge of awakening amusement in the eyes of one of the Spenton aunts - who still, even as she let me crush her into an embrace of frantic, wanting intimacy, stood in trembling, girlish fright not quite certain that I could resist the urge to rip the clothing from her body. I'd known all along that Doreen Spenton wasn't married, had sometimes fancied that it was a girl walking at my side along our secluded beach path, little less than giddy, juvenile delight in her features for mischief which for her was novel and intriguing. And it yet again in our secluded corner of the gardens seemed something pounding into every corner of my heart, she burying frightened eyes to mine, trembling with helpless violence - she yet again my sweet, girlish Doreen who a few months ago hadn't had anything more than a vague idea as to what consumating intimacy was - and she in the gardens in that seeming again a culminating instant come from nowhere letting me cradle her body in my arms, her eyes buried to mine and yet she knowing that it's the ultimate want for me, a want that our bodies be one with each other's in the ultimate act of intimacy - and my Doreen shuddering for that which I no longer doubted was her body fallen into wants as frantic as my own and wants of a ferocity she had never before known in anyone's arms other than mine.

And it was in our dark, secluded corner of the gardens that which we couldn't in another timeless instant deny was yet again some remorseful despair between us, she and I both knowing that we've played our liscivious little games again to a conclusion which was all but consumating, she and I standing yet in each other's arms knowing it the same desparate want for both of us - and she and I remembering that we must in nothing more than another week now resign ourselves to the fact that we were both prisoners of circumstance and fate, must at least make every honest effort to subdue that which we just couldn't any longer deny or doubt had become a maddening urge to rip the clothing from each other's bodies whenever we set eyes on each other.

It was finally, however, something a world more than just that. I stood another timeless eternity in a quiet corner of the gardens finally daring to admit that it was indeed something in the honest depths of my heart which must be subdued - something which in another sudden and reeling moment just seemed of incomparably greater violence. She's one of the Spenton aunts, august, dignified reserve, she the Doreen Spenton who my intended Alberta had told me was a bit staid and aloof, she allowing herself blatant, ribald mischief though not as a rule given to any passionate expression of her feelings.

"Aunt Doreen," my intended with that same accusing mischief in her features had commented just days before, "will let anyone stare, but no one's ever been able touch. And aunt Doreen has most certainly never before let anyone accompany her down to her - private little beach every time he visits Spenton."

It was in our quiet corner of the gardens a final moment's reeling oblivion for me even as it's a despairing search for retreat on both of our parts. It might finally have been that half moment's apologetic terror in my eyes as I stood deciding I had indeed wrenched her body into my arms with wanting violence, a hand flung to her shoulder and the straps of a dress which I must rip from her body - one primal, frenzied want raging in every corner of my mind. It was, I suppose, a final moments confused, reeling despair for the ludicrously bizare. We’d rested on our secluded little beach listened to the pounding of each other's hearts, had reveled in the naked warmth of each other's bodies - had sometimes buried our eyes to each other's knowing it was all of the sweet, raw ecstasy we had known it must be between us. And we'd finally in our own secret secluded world seen those moments of panic and despair in each other's eyes knowing we sooner or later had to return to a Spenton residence and feudal intransigence.

"Doreen -?" I'd pled even then - and it was the same dizzying ecstasy for me every time - her answer always yes - wild, abandoned ecstasy in her eyes as she wrapped her body onto my own with frantic, clinging intimacy.

And a half moment's ecstasy was just another fall into as brutal a pain as any I could ever have imagined, reality crashing about us - Doreen and I admitting that it had been all but marital intimacy between us for months now. And she might just as well have been a princess in Buckingham palace held in reserve by ruling powers who would demand kingdoms in payment of some elderly, moneyed potentate - I a pawn on the board at best.

"Jack -" she'd finally sighed, "I'm your princess - remember - and a princess who might just as well live in a room with bars on the windows. James, I'm certain, has several times over the years very seriously considered having them installed. We're both prisoners to our fate -"

I'd nodded accepting resignation toward one on the Spenton aunts an air of aloof, reserved majesty about her, she always some proper, ballroom dignity and propriety forever beyond my reach - I perhaps allowing myself to believe for another impossible moment that she was naked and letting me cradle her body in my arms, she watching me run an idle, caressing hand from her waist to curves which were the agonizing feminine ideal - and she edging her eyes again to mine, that which I'll always believe was emotional violence pounding into the honest depths of my heart.

"Jack -" she'd whispered, "we have the rest of the week end. Maybe - maybe that can seem like forever -" and the same abandoned, outright liscivious delight in her eyes. "Besides, I'm not an old, dowager princess anymore. You've made me into you're slave girl, remember, won't let me wear a stitch of clothing all weekend long - and here you are playing with my ass again-"

We'd finally returned to the residence - I standing in a moment's fright having run a caressing hand to her shoulder as we stood just yards from the Spenton residence and inhibiting, unalterable intransigence.

"Jack -" my Doreen even then refusing to allow me that half moment's fright, Doreen's manner of retreat yet again that which I might have anticipated, genuine - and a half moment's genuine retreat ending exactly as I now might have anticipated. "Jack - I think it's time I went upstairs to bed -" and she on the instant deciding further explanation was necessary. "I'm going upstairs, Jack, and then I'm going to take my clothes off, and after I do that I'll probably get into bed - after I've taken all my clothes off - in my bedroom, Jack - which is on the other side of my bedroom's door and - the door won't be locked, Jack - and I'll be laying on my bed - entirely naked - waiting -"

I held gentle hands to her arms even in the midst of agonizing torture. It's every last intimacy as it always was spoken with a glance. It's genuine, unfeigned pleading in her eyes. I haven't, finally, the least doubt, know that as soon as I walk through her bedroom's door she'll fling herself into my arms - despite the inescapable consequences. And it's a final moment's despairing resignation, she and I knowing why I can't walk through her bedroom's door, she and I finally stepping from each other's others arms - and she and I holding gentle hands to each other's arms a final, timeless little eternity.

It was even then something I can only call consumating in ways I had never before known. A Doreen not ordinarily given to any vehement expression of her feelings buried eyes awash with unfeigned pleading to mine - my Doreen giving up entirely, pleading with me to come to her bed - whether or not it was right or wrong to do so. And it seemed again something hammering into the honest depths of my heart even in the midst of another moment which I couldn't call less than consumating - my Doreen yet again admitting her want for me all of the constant, unrelenting ferocity which I felt for her. And I just couldn't believe that Doreen Spenton would abandon herself to such supremely personal intimacies were it not for something genuine and very honest residing in the depths of her own heart.

I could, in the end, I decided, be entirely certain about only one matter. It was that evening that I knew without the least doubt that my engagement to Alberta Spenton was absolutely ludicrous, knew that I must take advantage of whatever manner of escape from my fate presented itself.

I'd walked from the Spenton's residence, hopped onto the back of the first available transportation, passed a night in a motel room - had passed the night fleeing back to a secret, secluded little beach - the crush of her breasts to my chest a warm, unrelenting ecstasy. It had been moments of culminating, reeling mirth between us, she edging her eyes to a hand run up and down her body in teasing exploring caress. "Jack - stop playing with my ass -" her girlish giggle entrancing. It was yet again something not quite explicable as I locked a capturing arm about her waist, her body mine to search and explore as I wished. She's the impossible feminine ideal, her curves round, voluptuous - and yet she's just a girl in my arms, the barriers gone. I demanded of myself a moment's perfectly lucid pause. She's one of the Spenton aunts, that subtle edge of her age hinted in her features, she even in the moment retaining some air of august, aloof dignity and propriety - as she rested naked in my arms, her body mine to cradle onto my own in capturing, frantic intimacy - and she and I finally burying our eyes to each others the pounding of her heart my entire life.

"Jack -" the same quiet, pleading cry, "Jack - we can't -"

It was yet again the ultimate in the bizare. Couldn't we, we asked each other? Couldn't we - just once - and she and I seeing that same awakening despair in each other's eyes, she and I prisoners of inescapable fate - and she and I as quickly just deciding that we had the moment to be alone with each other.

"Jack - let me go -" and I wrapped a frantic, capturing arm about her waist, her body mine to crush onto my own - a gasp of frantic relief wrenched from her throat as she settled her body back into my arms.

"You're my slave girl, remember? My captive princess not allowed clothing for the rest of the weekend'" and the thing the ultimate in the bizare and the feudal. I'd yet again come to Spenton and seen to a few minute's duty in the residence's drawing room - Doreen and I then escaping the residence together, she and I as we listened to the pounding of each other's hearts deciding we were never returning to the residence this time, she and I deciding that we had this time escaped fate forever. She was simply the woman who I had wanted to hold in my arms from the moment I had first set eyes on her, I supposing it ludicrous for another moment or two thinking that there might be a physical attraction between myself and the most voluptuously beautiful woman imaginable - and the thing seeming another bizare moment or two, a constant, never ending dance of knowing mischief she and I always edging closer to each other - until it suddenly seemed impossible that it hadn't always been she and I our bodies frantically entwined about each others in naked warmth. It had been she and I listening to the pounding of each other's hearts - and the thing seeming another sudden and bizare moment come from nowhere.

"We have to get back -" she whispered. I cradled her to my heart a final few moments - and rested again in brooding wonder for as ludicrous a courtship as any imaginable. Alberta Spenton and I in a twenty minute conference had seen to various manner of monetary and social concerns - and Alberta with accusing mischief in her features quite aware that her aunt Doreen and I spent entire weekends together on our secluded wooded beach, Alberta and I finally deciding, as was common enough in the feudal kingdoms of Collinsville and Spenton, that each other's sleeping arrangements were to left to the other's discretion save for the occasional discharge of duty on my part in order to provide meddling potentates one or two more Spentons and Collins to be meddled with - Alberta gazing little more than curious amusement toward her aunt Doreen and me.

"Jack - aunt Doreen - honestly -" pouting annoyance and accusing mischief in Alberta's features as she provided a crowded drawing room subtle hints, "I'm certain you are having wild, thrashing sex with each other all weekend long. You could at least have put in an appearance at the ball. And bishop - it is absolutely essential, is it not, that the groom at least put in an appearance at his wedding?"

Doreen and I, returning to the residence, had just wandered back out into the gardens. We'd decided even then that it was time to resign ourselves to our fate, had deported ourselves with aloof, dignified propriety - a half moment's writhing search on the part of one of the Spenton aunts for a grasshopper on her leg, entranced, gawking abandon in my eyes - Doreen and I in that same half moment entwined in frantic, abandoned lovemaking and she and I deciding it was time to end a ludicrous facade - she with an abandoned crush of her hand to mine deciding we would end that facade in the residence.

I'd climbed the stairs that evening deciding it absolutely ludicrous that Doreen and I hadn't already shared a bed in the residence, that we hadn't abandoned the pretense altogether, that we hadn't admitted that which existed between us was marriage in every possible sense of the word.

"Uncle James - no -" Alberta with a chiding sigh frequently had to inform the reigning, and usually intoxicated and befuddled monarch of the domain, "it is Jack and I who you must hope will be very happy together. Jack and aunt Doreen are just - each other's friends who - enjoy each other's company," a crowded drawing room concealing smirking amusement. Nor had Doreen and I bothered with a great deal of pretense, one of the Spenton aunts leaning on my arm - a crowded drawing room smirking the same speculating amusement.

I'd climbed the residence's stairs - and had stood at her door a timeless, confused eternity. Weren't we married already in every sense of the word? Why couldn't I just walk through her door in the residence? Why couldn't I wrench she who would always be my only real wife into my arms, wrap her to my heart forever. I hadn't finally the least doubt that my feelings for my sweet, beautiful Doreen had become emotional violence residing in every honest corner of my heart - even if it had all began with that first liscivious glance toward each other, I edging my eyes toward one of the Spenton aunts not quite certain I could resist a sudden and maddening urge to rip every last shred of clothing from her body - and daring perhaps in a corner of my mind to believe that a change of her posture had been a sultry little dance for me, one of the Spenton aunts meeting my eyes her own awash with wicked, knowing delight. It might with that first glance in the residence's drawing room have been little less than a timeless moment's dizzying fright between us, a sultry change of her posture - and she and I with another glance and in one bizare instant not quite certain that sudden, pounding urges were resistible even in a crowded drawing room - she and knowing that a first glance toward each other had been unique and exceptional. I'd mistaken the whole thing, I'd decided - and it had all seemed the matter of another bizare and ludicrous moment, a secluded beach and a little wooden shelter. "We can't -" she'd whispered - and that in the end just some bizare little ceremony, a cry of frustration for life's realities - and my Doreen for the adamant crush of my hands to her waist flinging eyes awash with unfeigned, pleading assent to mine, letting me push cloth from her body, letting me wrap her body onto own - and I holding her to my heart simply deciding, at least for the moment, that "we couldn't." It was, I suppose, the ultimate in ludicrous pretense.

"Doreen," I'd whispered, "you and I are already married, in every way which matters. We have been for months now. We both know it. It's a dutiful act or two of intimacy with Alberta which is going to be adultery. Doreen - you're my only real wife, and you always will be."

It was the same mix of despair and finished, abandoned intimacy between us as we rested our bodies entwined in violent, clinging embrace. I'll always believe that it had been a union of our hearts, first and foremost, even as it was Doreen and I knowing and admitting again that it was our bodies in every meaningful sense of the word joined and one in marital intimacy. It was my Doreen and I finally hearing quiet though helpless and primal screams wrenched from each other's throats for our bodies wracked in the throes of the ultimate pleasure. It might sometimes be she and I meeting each other's eyes even in that moment, she and I never pretending that just a naked, caressing embrace of our bodies was anything less than the ultimate act of intimacy. And it was she and I knowing again and with that same strange, undoubted certainty that consummating love with each other was something it couldn't have been with anyone but each other. It was that which it had been from the start between us, neither my Doreen nor I denying that we had given in entirely to that seeming an unrelenting, almost ludicrously insatiable physical attraction to each other. And even if it had indeed all begun as little more than that, it was my Doreen and I even in the midst of consumating intimacy burying our eyes to each other's, she and I knowing our love become a union of our hearts as well as our bodies.

I stood in the Spenton's residence a trembling hand touched to the knob of her door - and that, I suppose, just another bizare little ceremony, a final, parting gesture toward the woman who had become my entire life. I stood in the hallway another timeless moment - and saw again as I had any number of times gentle commiseration in the features of a bishop who never, of course, openly pronounced the word adultery in a feudal palace's ballroom, though a courageous bishop sometimes risking banishment by aiming a scolding sigh even toward James Spenton and then making his point obviously enough with the other three quarters of the ballroom toward whom the point was appropriate.

"Jack," a bishop with a sense of humor finally stepping toward me, "I'm afraid it will indeed be necessary for you to attend the ceremony. There's good news, however. We arrange the ceremony in order that it doesn't in the least appear like public execution - no axes involved whatsoever. Nor are there chains - "

I'd strolled from the residence one morning several days before the ceremony deciding that even the condemned deserved a final breath of air, strolled along the edge of the highway wondering if I would be denounced for a craven coward if I yet again attempted to flee my preordained fate. Oh Lord - a sign - and at that very moment the next ramshackle farm truck lumbering toward me, that one speeding past but almost the very next one appearing several minutes later, nothing more than my standing in front of it and frantically waving my arms necessary to attract the driver's attention. Craven cowardice, I'd decided hopping onto the back of that truck, seemed appropriate in the miraculous circumstances.

I'd fled Spenton - and I'd flung my eyes the following morning to a jailor - the moment that same bizare mix of remorseful despair and joyful, reeling ecstasy.

I'll always believe it to have been something in the air between us which I can only call honest and emotional, I reposing in a motel room which had been lonely, hopeless despair, feeling in another moment anything from amused relief to reeling delight that it was my princess Doreen arrived attempting to reconcile me to my fate. I'll never doubt that it had been something pounding into the honest depths of my heart for frantic pleading in her voice urging me to return with her to Spenton - had just assumed, I suppose, that it couldn't be anything less than the blatant, liscivious mischief it always was between us.

And it was all in another bizare and timeless instant that which we’d known in frantic corners of our minds it must be. I'd just assumed that Doreen even in the midst of emotionally charged conversation must torture me with glances of blatant, liscivious scrutiny. I, even as it was frantic pleading in my own voice, gazed toward a Doreen who was feminine beauty and allure always an impossible, inexplicable ideal, she for me just as she was the most alluring, agonizing woman who had even lived - and the thing in that sudden, culminating instant come from nowhere something I can yet again only call consumating, she as well fallen into silence, her eyes buried to mine, her breasts rising and falling in frantic, breathless fury.

It's that which it had been in our secluded corner of the gardens yet something immeasurably more. It's our eyes buried to each others, she even yet the Doreen to whom I feel close, the Doreen with whom I can share all manner of emotional intimacy. But it just doesn't stop there, she and I fallen into silence, resting our eyes buried to each others - and knowing it's the same thought raging in every corner of our minds. It's yet again something more than I had ever known in the past, yet again seems impossible that any woman other than she had ever existed. I'll always believe that it was something very genuine pounding into the honest depths of our hearts even in that moment - even as we met each other's eyes knowing it yet again some frantic, falling want that our bodies be entwined in that which we couldn’t any longer deny was to be the ultimate intimacy.

And with that in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, I finally allowed myself a moment's lucid reason, demanded of myself a moment's awakening pause - and even that just another dizzying, timeless oblivion not quite like any I had ever before known. She was Doreen Spenton, quick, perceptive brilliance, she if in a mood august, dignified propriety. She was, ultimately, my jailor, she come to talk sense into me, to fetch me back to my intended. And it might almost have been some blinding, ecstatic fright for me, I for once awakening first - and seeing that still in my jailor's eyes which I just couldn't any longer doubt was raw, burning want.

I finally pushed myself toward the edge of the bed - will never quite know why I just pushed myself toward the other chair and my clothing - and the thing another moment's dizzying little ecstasy for a quiet, awakening gasp escaping her throat, that which I couldn’t any longing doubt was very genuine annoyance in her features as I did nothing more than dress, settle onto the other chair. I'll never know how it could in another quick moment be little more than the usual knowing mischief for both of us, she and I speaking volumes with a darting glance of our eyes.

I lowered myself onto a chair in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, resigned, I suppose, to my fate.

Why not, I decided as I faced my jailor, have a little more fun while I still could.

"Come on, Doreen - let me escape. Better yet, escape with me. We'll just start driving - end up somewhere -"

"Jack -" an amused chuckle as she toyed with her flask, "I've already tried to escape once myself, remember? Have seen the world beyond the frontiers -? I'm certain you've heard the rumors. My attempt at escape was a dismal failure from the start. I'm - I'm just too old to try again."

"Is that -?" a moment's apology in my eyes though I'm not quite certain why. I'm intensely aware that Doreen Spenton is not married.

"Yes - I suppose it is," she sighed and chuckled. "I'm not quite certain how I have escaped various machinations on James' part to barter me off over the years. I suppose a modest though adequate income of my own assures me some measure of insulation. And what self respecting Collins or Spenton would now contemplate designs on an old dowager who on top of everything else actually works for a living?"

"Doreen - I would -" and I sat again in frantic pause for a blurted declaration which I'm certain was something more than just the consequence of a constant urge to rip the clothing from her body.

"Would you, Jack -?" the usual teasing mischief in her features, she on her chair performing a writhing little dance just to be certain that I would lunge if the whole thing were nothing more than a matter of the maddening physical attraction I felt toward her. "Would you really, Jack -?" she asked again, a hand pushed across the table, wrapped about mine, genuine emotional gratitude in her eyes.

I'll never quite know how I was able to answer this time without the least hesitation. I simply did, abandoning myself entirely.

"Yes, Doreen - I really would. And you're the only Spenton or Collins or anyone in between toward whom I would contemplate designs, the only one worth their contemplating -"

"Jack -" she flinging her eyes to her hand as I refused to release it.

"Doreen -" almost a mirthful chuckle, "how can you possibly doubt it, anyway? The first thing I ask whenever I visit Spenton and Williams answers the door is - the Princess Doreen home this weekend? Williams, for that matter, sometimes wears a most amusing little smirk, suspects, I'm certain, that I am indeed contemplating designs -"

And it's yet again something more than either of us had intended. It's a question I've asked myself any number of times over the past few months leapt again into every corner of my mind - the ultimate mix of ecstasy and despair. Why couldn't fate have arranged that the years and position be other than they were, that it be Alberta's aunt Doreen for whom I had been dispatched to Spenton, the princess Doreen the sweetest, most intriguing, and certainly the most beautiful and alluring woman who had ever lived?

I crushed her hand into capturing embrace another timeless moment, waited finally and as usual for aghast affront to settle into the features of one of the Spenton aunts. And it's just another fall into as timeless and reeling an oblivion as any I have ever known, her hand wrapped to mine in frantic, caressing intimacy.

It's yet again, at least in part, that which I suppose it just is, might almost be the same knowing, mirthful amusement for something in the air between us yet again so blatant and obvious. It was that which it had been along our secluded wooded paths the first time I had flung myself entirely over the edge, my kisses and caresses wild, unrestrained abandon - the thing that which countless little fantasies had been and yet something incomparably more, something not quite explicable. I had just several evenings ago in our secluded corner of the gardens held one of the Spenton aunts in my arms, and had even then held without the least doubt the most beautiful and alluring woman who has ever lived in my arms. It had seemed the same wash of raw, dizzying warmth which I couldn't just a few months ago have imagined, had yet again seemed every doubt gone, the woman I held in my arms some mature, feminine ideal to impossible, inexplicable extremes.

And I sat with her at a packing crate table in a motel room the thing yet again something more than either of us had anticipated, something a world more than just amused mirth for the obvious. The years between us just aren't there, place and position meaningless - that which might have begun all manner of teasing, imagining mischief become something incomparably more. It's even then that which I just can't deny it to be, and is yet again a dazed, reeling oblivion for the frantic, caressing crush of her hand to my own, she hiding absolutely nothing from me. It's that which it had been just minutes before, that which in bizare moments seeming come from nowhere is supremely personal intimacies revealed to each other.

And it was finally that in a motel room which was yet again the ultimate knowing intimacy between myself and one of the Spenton aunts, our hands crushed onto each other's with violent strength - my Doreen absolutely helpless to me. She'll attempt a moment's protesting struggle as I fling her onto the bed - and a moment's struggle just a dance of writhing, agonizing allure to every inexplicable extreme.

And with that, it was the awakening amusement it now had to be between us, one of the Spenton aunts finally withdrawing her hand from mine, reaching for her flask. Perhaps it's a moment's sheepish amusement, she knowing that I’d given up entirely at least for fleeting moments, had yet again indulged in a moment's imagining to its consummating conclusion - the thing the same dizzying little abandon knowing that her struggles to escape a ravisher will just be some lascivious little dance in which we’ve engaged countless times already. And yet she knows as well that it's all something a world more for me than just a primal, physical want. It's the same question crashing into every corner of my mind.

"Jack -" she finally chuckled, a steadying gulp from her flask, "thank you. But I am, of course, indeed your jailor. I'm - resigned to my own fate. I suppose I can feel flattered that you might feel inclined to - contemplate designs in an inappropriate direction -"

I sighed, chuckled, a gulp from my gin steadying. I settled back into reality as it was for Doreen and me, as it had to be.

"Doreen -" I finally tried, deciding as well to get back to work, "my jailor, if anyone, knows why I'm fleeing her pursuit. Alberta will pass a mortified six months for a supposed affront to her dignity and will forget that I ever existed. My leaving will necessitate that wills yet again be revised, contracts be renegotiated. I just can't help that, Doreen. How could I be content in Spenton doing nothing -"

"Jack - you don't have to - do nothing. There's plenty you could find to do."

"But - I've never done anything to begin with," I sighed and chuckled. "No one ever let me."

"Teach then," she chuckled, shrugged. "You achieved honors at university despite the fact that you seldom attended classes, your attention so constantly devoted to - other interests. But you'd make a fine teacher, Jack."

"Doreen - I could do that anywhere -"

"Jack - please - don't leave. Let me drive you back to Spenton. Stay - just another night. Perhaps in the morning -"

I'm not quite certain why I sighed another moment's protest and then just capitulated. I pushed myself to my feet, gave my jailor my arm, settled into another moment's amused delight for the same in my jailor's features as she wrapped capturing hands to my arm. She and I both knowing that my fate will be sealed this time as soon as we arrived back in Spenton, we flung ourselves from the start into abandoned, liscivious mischief. My jailor halfway to the door stumbling, it was I who must fling capturing hands to a pleasantly inebriated Doreen's arms in order to hold her to her feet. Chuckling in amused delight for a writhing little dance of mind numbing beauty and allure, I led my captive on another pace or two - and it yet again seems one sudden instant come from nowhere, a bed in a motel room simply there, demanding my attention - I wrapping frantic hands to her arms, drawing her to a halt, standing years in some reeling, despairing ambivalence that I had done so.

And even if I couldn't by then have doubted her answer to me, it yet again seemed a dream which was simply impossible come true - she crushing pleading hands onto my arms speaking it all without the least pretense.

"Jack - yes - I want to - I want to so badly -"

I held her to my heart a final, timeless eternity, knew in those same clouded corners of my mind that she was trembling with helpless violence - and the thing perhaps some culminating, reeling mirth as she crushed a hand atop mine, pleading for a caress of blatant, fondling intimacy. I'll never know why one was enough for another timeless eternity, I rather than flinging myself into a maniacal frenzy just wrenching her into my arms, listening to the pounding of her heart, falling into her eyes, gazing toward features which are agonizing, perfect beauty just as they were. I saw again that which I knew was confused, reeling ambivalence in her own eyes - and the thing yet again dizzying and blinding in ways I could never before have imagined. I might indeed for that ambivalent moment have attempted a half hearted pause - and the pleading bite of her nails onto my arms a dizzying, blinding ecstasy.

But it was, in the end, yet again that which it had to be, she and I allowing each other another moment, she and I seeing awakening lucidity in each other's eyes, no idea how to retreat from it all.

She decided this time on the inescapably obvious.

"But - we're not married, Jack -"

It's even then a dizzying little ecstasy for genuine despair in her eyes, she and I both prisoners to inescapable fate.

"Doreen -" I tried - had this time to apologize for something so brazenly blatant.

"Jack -" something very real stabbing into every corner of my heart even as she flung a hand to her shoulder, to the straps of her dress. "I will, Jack. Another word and I will. I'll slam you onto the bed for a change -"

It takes us another half moment by now, a sigh of resigned amusement as she crushed her hand onto my own. I led a pleasantly inebriated Spenton aunt from the motel toward a Chevy with a dented grill, demanded as I always did the keys from a Doreen who drove that Chevy into a ditch with amazing regularity. Helping her through the passenger's door onto the seat, it's the usual liscivious mischief, the hem of a form fitting dress necessarily worked an exotic distance above her knees - I gawking in transfixed oblivion either before or after that which might have been all manner of writhing on her part, the hem of her dress worked an excruciating distance further above her knees than really seemed necessary. And it's a flash of our eyes toward each other's in which all manner of intensely personal intimacies are spoken in the usual bizare half instant.

I walked around the car, lowered myself behind wheel - sat another timeless moment immersed in all manner of frantic confusion for that which had indeed been awakening apology in her eyes, she my jailor taking me back to my intended and yet she at the first opportune moment abandoning herself to dancing which couldn't have been a great deal more obvious or blatant. I started the car seeing again that half moment's frantic apology in her eyes - will never know why the decision only then seemed so ludicrously easy.

"Doreen -" I began, my voice sighing resignation, "I'm not going back to Spenton. I never intended to. I never for an instant intended to marry Alberta. Doreen - I'm just driving this car the other way - somewhere - anywhere -"

"Oh -?" perhaps an amused chuckle as she gave me her eyes.

"And you're coming with me, my princess."

It's that which I suppose it almost has to be between us, a half moment which I can only call consumating as she buried her eyes to mine. It's age and position simply not there between us, and that of course leaving me immersed in wanton, raging desire not quite like any I had ever before known.

And all of that for once out of the way in a quick moment, she buried her eyes to mine seeing, as I knew she had for months now, into the honest, passionate depths of my heart. One of the Spenton aunts flung her eyes a final frantic moment toward a feudal palace and crystal opulence laying a few miles down the road. She flung her eyes back to me, she and I allowing ourselves another moment's lucid, settling reason. It seems impossibly ludicrous, age, position, all manner of obstacles in the way between us. How can either of us really be certain of anything other than a mutual and readily admitted desire to rip the clothing from each other’s bodies whenever we set eyes on each other?

And my princess Doreen released a final sigh of resigned mirthful amusement. There hadn't ever been the least doubt between us. She pushed herself across the car's seat, curled herself into my arms. I touched my lips to hers - simply can't imagine that any two people have ever been more genuinely, honestly in love with each other. I pulled the car into gear, throttled it onto the road no idea where I was going - just drove toward a feudal kingdom's frontiers.

Doreen and I, and our daughters, still chuckle all these years later for one final act of seditious, conspiratorial mischief. The justice along the frontiers before whom we were married smirked in amused delight, he the same who struck both of our names from wills a day or two later.