You are going to meet a beautiful wanton blonde, give her fifteen babies

and live to be a hundred and fifty.  She touched the little chiselled

lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth with the tip of

her tongue, leaving cool damp smears of saliva on his skin.

I always wanted a real craggy man all for myself., Then, when her

examination became more intimate and clinical and he demurred, she told

him severely, Hold still, this is a private thing between me and

himself.  Then a little later.

Oh wow!  He's real poison!  Poison?  the demanded, his manhood

denigrated.

Poison, she sighed.  Because he just slays me!  in fairness, she offered

herself for his touch and scrutiny, guiding his hands, displaying

herself eagerly.

Look, touch, it's yours - all yours/ wanting his approval, not able to

give him sufficient to satisfy her own need to give.  Do you like it,

Nicholas?  Is this good for you?  Is there anything else you want,

Nicholas, anything at all that I can give you?  And when he told her how

beautiful she was, when he told her how much he wanted her, when he

touched and marvelled over the gifts she brought to him, she glowed and

stretched and purred like a great golden cat so that when he learned

that the Zodiacal sign of her birthday was Leo, he was not at all

surprised.

Samantha was loving in the early slippery grey-pearl light of dawn, soft

sleepy loving, with small gasps and murmurs and chuckles of deep

contentment.

Samantha was loving in the sunlight, spread like a beautiful starfish in

the fierce reflected sunlight of the sculptured dunes.  The sand coated

her body like crystals of sugar, and their cries rose together, high and

ecstatic as those of the curious seagulls that floated above them on

motionless white wings.

Samantha was loving in the green cool water, their two heads bobbing

beyond the first line of breakers, his toes only just touching the sandy

bottom and she twined about him like sea kelp about a submerged rock,

clutching both their swim suits in one hand and gurgling merrily.

What's good enough for a lady blue whale is good enough for Samantha

Silver!  There blows Moby Dick!  And Samantha was loving in the night,

with her hair brushed out carefully and spread over him, lustrous and

fragrant, a canopy of gold in the lamplight, and she kneeling astride

him in almost religious awe, like a temple maid making the sacrifice.

But more than anything else, Samantha was vibrant, bursting life - and

youth eternal.

Through her, Nicholas recaptured those emotions which he had believed

long atrophied by cynicism and the pragmatism of living.  He shared her

childlike delight in the small wonders of nature, the flight of a gull,

the presence of the porpoise, the discovery of the perfect translucent

fan of papery nautilus shell washed up on the white sand with the rare

tentacled creature still alive within the convoluted interior.

and He shared her outrage when even those renio lonely beaches were

invaded by an oil slick, tank washings from a VLCC out on the Agulhas

current, and the filthy clinging globules of spilled crude oil stuck to

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