He was like a man in a desert relieved by sudden rainfall. He yearned to draw her essence into himself, to absorb her quintessential being into his ow... by osmosis. His soul had been parched and she was refreshment. More, perhaps, could she be that elusive thing called hope, hope for the future, hope for salvation, hope for life itself? In a flash of clarity he saw what he had been missing all those years. Those wasted years, as he now thought. Somehow Jane had broken the pattern of his. Her breasts were small, but more than mere bumps on her chest. Her slit was more prominent, not simply an opening with two holes inside. “Show me” he said, and she opened her legs and used her fingers to open herself. The fleshy folds were there, writ small; they would grow and expand in time, but she wouldn’t be a virgin by then. He moved over to where she lay, naked, legs open, fingers holding her firm slit open. Would he simple ram inside and break that seal? No, he replaced her fingers with. More

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