The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 28- With All My Heart.

A/N 1: Thank you so much for the reviews. I love receiving them and try to PM respond if you are signed up. Thanks to all the Guesties too!

I am glad the reference notes I like adding appeal to some people out there too. Just skip them if they don't. I have given it all a rest for this chapter, though- for what will be seen as obvious reasons!

Suzie- just Wikipedia 'cricket' and the 'bodyline series' for any more info you might want. There was also an Australian TV miniseries 'Bodyline' from 1984 that was quite good- from memory. It starred Hugo Weaving and Gary Sweet- that might be a good way to go, but I am not sure how easy it will be to get, though. It is an interesting sport with a great history- but I am no expert, and as I said- I am a now lapsed follower of that particular faith (amongst others as it turns out!) :P

A/N 2: The Last Tango in London continues upstairs for Charles and Elsie.

So… obviously- NSFW !

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Original characters written and authored by The Honourable Julian Fellowes, England. This not-for-profit campaign message remains unauthorised but written by me, BorneToFlow- with the very best of intentions for all involved.

CECECECECE

But Charles's eyes have darkened once more as he looks up from his perusal of the menu and sees Elsie taking another sip from the remains of her glass of wine.

"Besides which,… I…I am afraid they don't actually serve what I was really hankering for,…Els-sie," he draws out her name in a thinly veiled and desire-filled hiss.

"And what is that, Mr Carson?" she asks quietly, still concentrating on maintaining some sort of control over her body's reactions to her man.

"Forfaitaire de gelée fondante."

She arches an eyebrow at him, expecting a translation, but none is forthcoming. Charles just releases a very low and whisper quiet humming groan as he looks longingly at his wife's lips, where she has just licked the last drops of her red wine from them.

Absently, almost breathlessly, his eyes not leaving her full and lush lips, he stumbles out "How… about we just skip coffee and … maybe… call down for the cheese later, Mrs Carson?"

Knowing that the meal will be charged automatically to their room account, Charles does not actually wait for a response. Instead, he rises quickly and sees to Elsie's chair as he more briskly states, "Come to think of it, Mrs Carson, I am absolutely certain that I can live without ever having dessert in the Ritz Restaurant." He offers her his arm. "Shall we?" he asks and then intones low and close to her ear, "mon forfaitaire de gelée fondante."

Recognition sparkles brightly in Elsie's eyes and red heat prickles across her décolletage.

"Well… It appears that a lass need not even leave London in order to run away with some sort of swarthy Gaul, Mr Carson!" Elsie breathes out lustfully to Charles, and she gleefully allows herself to be escorted, at a rather rapid pace, from the restaurant and up to their suite, having neglected to retrieve their hats and coats from the cloak room.

CECECECECE

Still stringing hot with the latent need that their last sensual dance downstairs kindled within them, Charles has barely shoved their room door closed with his heel before he captures Elsie's mouth in a hot and thirsty kiss. Fumbling blindly behind himself in order to slide the lock home, he can taste the heady remains of the red wine on her lips and he licks and teases it away with his tongue until all that he can sense is the delightful soft flavour of his Elsie.

Elsie is already working to remove his white tie and collar, dropping them to the floor as she returns his kisses with equal fervour and they back slightly into the room. Her hands reach to slide his tail coat off his shoulders as his large warm hands grip and fondle at her hips through the silk of her wedding dress. He removes each hand in turn only to allow the coat to drop to the floor, for her warm softness is far too enticing not to be in constant contact with it.

"Dear God, Elsie Love," he moans against her lips, "I feel like I married you all over again today."

Oh, my sweet Lord! He says the dearest possible things!

But spoken words fail her and she goes to suck at her bottom lip between her teeth in that special way she has. He senses it with his lips and lightly captures her bottom lip between his own teeth and runs his tongue over its swollen ruby smoothness. She gasps and her own tongue strikes out to run inside his top lip, eliciting a deep rumbling groan from him that she feels vibrate through her skin and straight to her tightening core.

As they stumble their way closer to the bed, he somehow manages to toe his dress shoes off while removing some of the pins from Elsie's hair. She has moved to placing hot open mouthed kisses along his now exposed neck for it is far easier for her to reach this lovely part of his skin as they move. He groans out his hot pleasure and he gives up on trying to find any more hairpins to toss aside once he feels the rounded silk covered buttons at the back of her gown. He begins slipping these open with one hand instead. His other hand is boldly drawing the hem of her dress up so that he can run his fingertips over the smooth silk of her fine stockings at the backs of her legs.

As he bends to take his turn to kiss and nip at her fine neck her arms wrap around his neck and she drags her fingers up through his hair, ruffling it completely. Straightening his back and lifting her slightly off the ground as she clings to him, she giggles as he delights in how ticklish the backs of her knees are and he knows there will be much fun to be had teasing her there with his touch in the days to come, but right now his most fervent desire is to feel her naked against him once more and calling out his name in pleasure to the night.

The buttons all dispensed with, he places her on the floor again and rapidly pulls the dress higher. She releases her hands from the shirt studs she had moved her hands down to and was uselessly fumbling with, and raises her arms to assists him with removing her gown. He has grabbed her shift along with it and he reaches high above her head to remove both garments in one sweeping motion- dropping them quickly aside as the sight of her décolletage blushed deep red stops him in his tracks and he dives his head down to lick along her collarbones. Her head falls back as she groans his name out long and low, her hands grasping at his wrists where he has gripped back onto her fleshy hips and is squeezing them through the satin smoothness of her briefs. She is blindly pulling at his cufflinks and somehow manages to get these out of their buttonholes, yet she still has the presence of mind to resist her first instinct, which is to toss them forcefully aside. Instead, she roughly pushes them into his waistcoat pocket. With his head bent down to her chest she is able to crane her neck enough to lick lavishly around the shell of his ear and he breathes out a hot shuddering sigh of pleasure against her chest. She roughly shoves her hands under his waistcoat collar to pull open the shirt buttons down his back. She is sure she hears more than one of them break its threads in her frantic need to gain more access to his skin.

Charles has moved his open mouth to run fiery wet kisses across the top of her breasts where the scalloped edge of her brassiere sits in pale cool contrast to the hot blushed skin he tastes. He starts moving them both towards the bed again as Elsie's hands work frantically to try and undo his waistcoat buttons.

Dear God! It's worse than a ruddy corset! She thinks wildly.

"Grr…Aah! Ooh! Help me with these Charles!" she cries.

Love-fugged from the wonderful sensations of her rolling, moaning brogue in his ears and of his tongue on her lust reddened pillowy breasts pressed up above the smoothness of her brassiere, he lifts his head and looks at her a little blankly just as the backs of her knees hit against the bed and he feels her falling away from him. Instinctively one of his hands leaves her hip to support her upper back and he braces his knee around her side and onto the edge of the mattress so as to lower her more gently onto the crisp clean sheets. He sees her wild frantic eyes touched with tenderness once more for the care he still takes with her, even from within the deep clutches of his wild lust for her. He smiles a proud and broad, desire-filled smile at his passionate wife as her strong but delicate fingers keep fumbling at his clothing, trying to get to more of him. He consciously slows himself down so that he can better see her desire rise up over her skin, for she gives him far too much pleasure not to sip slowly at their lovemaking…to draw it out…to savour it.

Still with one foot on the floor, he runs his hand from around the top of her back and draws it slowly and firmly down her front, over her breastbone and onto her belly as he draws himself upright to look upon her. Her back arches so that she can better meet his touch.

Dear God! She is just so very,… very beautiful.

Seeing the change in his pace, Elsie's panting breath slows a little, but the frantic longing in her core cannot be stilled. She wants him.

"Charrles," she breathes out to him.

His hand flutters and then lingers over her hot centre as he smooths his fingers over the satiny fabric that covers her hot need.

"Yesss…a chagair…yess!" she moans out as her hips roll seductively for him.

Then he firmly presses the base of his hand up to cup her and he can feel her moisture pooling there and marking her scent onto his palm through the fine fabric.

God! I want to taste her again!

But there is time…Charles- there will be time.

Instead, he leans back down over her and kisses once onto her womanhood- his hot breath seeping through the fabric to her core as she pushes up towards his face and sighs a shuddering moan out over the top of his name. He inhales her beautiful aroma and then moves over her graceful recumbent form- pointedly rubbing the stiffened front of his dress shirt and the rounded pearl buds of his shirt studs up over her covered womanhood. Starch scrapes satin, creating a delightful friction for her and filling her clear blue eyes with a moment of shocked lust.

"Hah! Aagh! Charrles."

Never …! Never! Oh! Dear God!

Never could she have imagined he would be such a creative lover! From grating frustration to thrilling enchantment! -But he was ever thus with her- always turning her sparking vexation at him around to an utter delight in him.

He looks into her eyes with knowing and wicked playfulness as he continues his long slow path up her body, the studs dip and press in a smooth tortuous line over, then into and out of her navel while her whole belly rasps under the harshness of the shirt front. The five cloth covered buttons of his waistcoat follow up over her mound and trap that smooth exotic peach toned fabric lightly in her liquid valley just as the tiny hard shirt studs start pressing into her breastbone through her satin brassiere.

Such exquisite contrasts! Her body struggles to process it all and her back arches instantly towards him as her hands pull strongly at the shoulder seams of his waistcoat- drawing him up to her mouth so that she may claim him in another thirsty and fevered kiss. She nips and licks at his reddened lips as she pulls his bulk down on top of her, rubbing her hands firmly over his biceps and his back through the weight of his clothing.

God! Why can't I feel his skin yet?

One of her legs has hooked over his waist, and as she pulls the hardness of his arousal against her throbbing core she realises that she still has her shoes on. But it can wait. She needs his skin and so she moves her mouth to his cheek and starts to speak against it, but he has spied, once more, the lengthened expanse of her supple neck and the pearls that encircle it and his head has plunged down so that he can trace his tongue along the smooth bumps and ridges of her precious necklace while tasting the sensitive skin of her neck.

All other speech is temporarily forgotten and she moans out loud and long to him.

"Moohhrr! Oooh!... Charrles!…Charles! Take it off!"

She is not sure if she means his shirt or her necklace first, for she is worried it will break as they become carried away with each other again.

Charles manages to stop himself and looks again into her eyes. She is panting and writhing beneath him, grinding against his hardness. His breath is laboured and short. He worries that his weight on top of her is too much so he rises up and has taken up her directive to finally rid himself of some clothing. He feels her leg slide off his lower back but her hips are still undulating towards him sensuously as he kneels back up between her legs and quickly unbuttons his waistcoat. As he shrugs it off his shoulders and is about to toss it aside she takes in a sharp breath then calls out to him.

"Charles! Our six-pence!" like it is the most precious treasure in the world to them, and in a way- it is.

He loves her so very much for her deep care for that which he sees as important, and so he quickly feels for the silver penny in the pocket then throws the waistcoat aside, pocket watch and all, as he lunges over her to reach out and slam the coin down on the bedside table as he captures her lush and beautiful lips once more in another searing kiss. He knows he had meant to slow himself down but she just makes it so damned difficult. Her hair is mussed and partly undone, but her neck is still ringed with that perfectly elegant necklace- she is wild and refined all at once. Frantic in her want for him, garlanded in the symbol of them- the polished gift of his very deepest regard for her- He has never seen anything so beautifully erotic to him.

By GOD! She is stunning!

One of her hands has pulled his shirt from the back of his trousers and she slides her searching fingers underneath it, but her up and down strokes on his back are still restricted by his braces and her other hand is clawing at his shirt studs again, struggling to work them loose in the pressed space between their chests as they continue to kiss deeply. She has been moaning against his lips but it soon turns to a low growl of frustration and she just starts to grasp at the fabric at his shoulders, trying to lift his shirt up over his head, but the studs and his infernal braces are still in place and the neckline is too small to move it past his taut shoulders. She is whimpering in her frustrated need to feel all of his skin next to hers and so he breaks their kiss and pushes himself off her once more, making short work of the studs, shoving them deep into his trousers pocket as Elsie tears his braces off his shoulders and reaches to help him draw the shirt off over his head.

Finally! I can touch him!

Elsie pushes herself up onto one hand as her other grips around one of his pectoral muscles and her mouth plunges to his collar bone and licks and nips along it.

"Oh! Els-siee…" he hisses out and it just spurs her on. She loves the feel of his silvery fine chest hair against her palms and she rubs her hand firmly over him as her eager tongue traces the same sensations down to his nipple, which she sucks heavily into her mouth. She can smell the masculine sweat rising from him, clean but with a woody musk, and it is utterly intoxicating to her. She inhales the strength of him- deeply- as one of his hands kneads at her breast through her brassiere. Elsie keeps up a furious pace, licking hot kisses all over his nipple- pulling and nipping at it lightly with her teeth as Charles tangles his other fingers through her hair and he pants out low moans as his hips buck uncontrollably towards her.

I want him! her mind shouts as her hand starts to feather a path from his chest down to his waistband… and lower. Charles groans out incoherent sounds as she firmly presses her hand over his arousal and it jerks towards her touch, then she quickly moves her hand back up to unbutton his trousers and pull the drawstring on his shorts.

Charles is still kneeling up between her legs and Elsie now releases his nipple from her mouth and he whimpers at the loss of that deathly hot sensation. She lifts both her hands to his shoulders and uses his steady bulk to support her movement up onto her own knees in front of him. His arms move immediately to encircle her waist and his hands start squeezing at her delightfully broad and fleshy hips. He loves all of her abundant softness and he soon starts exploring up over her whole back again, pulling one of the straps of her brassiere from her shoulder to fondle at that fine white smooth skin as he leans his head down to trace a wet path up the sides of the opposite shoulder strap. Elsie sighs low and grinds her hips into Charles' hard heat as she works his trousers and shorts down his legs. Once he is free she reaches her hands around and grips at his firm buttocks, squeezing and digging in her nails as she pulls his naked heat towards her own satin covered fluid warmth.

"Ha! Arghh!" Charles feels his hardness pressed up against the soft cloth and the silky skin of her belly and he snakes one of his hands down her back, threading it boldly between her legs from behind to press and stroke firmly at her beautiful heat through that delightfully smooth layer of fabric.

Hot! Wet! - The only clear thoughts his mind can form in that sweet moment.

He grunts low with animal need for her and gasps as her hips buck under his touch and she presses even closer into his hardness, rolling herself over his exploring fingers. He feels hot blood surge low within him.

"Elss-ssie…" he growls as she simultaneously moans out his name against his chest as she continues to place hot wet kisses across his skin.

"I want you, Charles" she manages to rasp out against his hot skin, and he just holds her even tighter to him and keeps rubbing firmly at her centre with his strong broad fingertips. She arches her heat even closer towards him.

He leans his body into hers to motion them back onto the mattress, but somehow from within her lust-drugged mind she controls her arms and presses her hand harder into his chest and gasps out "Necklace! Charles...it will break," and her other hand leaves where it was rubbing firmly onto the back of his thigh to start worrying at the delicate crystal clad clasp of her pearls.

"Leave it on" he growls low and in one smooth motion he manages to dive past her and turn her on top of his lap as he thumps himself back onto the mountain of pre-fluffed pillows as he sits up against the quilted headboard of the bed.

She is momentarily shocked at this sudden move and as a worried look crosses her face he slows himself and traces his fingertips along the smooth bumps of the necklace and he repeats more softly, "Leave it on Love.… Please Elspeth…I will be careful."

And the tender and lust-filled look in his soulful eyes makes her heart restart and she leans in to kiss him tenderly on his lips.

"Oh…a chagair…" she moans into his mouth as their kiss deepens once more- but slower now, languorously, as she leisurely rubs her heat swollen mound up and down his length through the satin shine of her briefs.

Heavenly! They think as one.

They breathe in unison-slow, deep and panting- punctuated by soft moans and affirmations of mutual pleasure. His hands have returned to her glorious hair and he continues to remove some pins and tosses them off the edge of the bed so that they won't dig into them tonight. Finally, her braid drops free and he pulls the small linen tie from its end and slowly unravels the careful work she allowed him to fashion onto her giving body just that morning. She allows him so MUCH pleasure he thinks and his heart overflows for her as he gently runs his large fingers through her luxurious, silken locks once more.

As he licks and sucks unhurriedly at her neck around those beautiful round and smooth pearls. She sighs his name and mimics the action of his tongue with her soft fingertips running over his hardened nipples. He surges and sighs with each of circling of her fingers at his chest and the rolling of her hips against him. He is painfully ready for her but she still has entirely too many clothes on and he starts roughly shuffling his legs beneath her in order to kick his own trousers all the way off from his confined ankles and then he toes off his socks. Each movement brings different shocks of pleasure to them as Elsie rolls against his hardness in unexpected ways. They smile broadly at each other- almost giggling aloud at times- if it weren't for the rasping friction that sets them groaning ecstatically to each other first.

His hands have traced down to the backs of her thighs and he strokes firmly through the gossamer silk of her stockings, then he tracks his fingertips over the straps of those exotic garters and unclips each buttoned hasp before steadily running the silk down her legs as far as he can reach, bunching them about her knees and then caressing his hands back up her thighs as her stomach shimmers against his in a long shuddering rill. Finally, his hands coming to rest on her full and fleshy hips where he fondles and squeezes her heavily once more. He cannot get enough of them tonight- not since they were swaying so sinuously with him as they danced.

Delightful!

And he absolutely adores seeing her astride him like this. Vigorous. Lissom and elegant -and oh! so very vital- with her hair draped over her shoulders and full breasts, and which floats like a secret veil around his head. He can smell the fresh soap of the morning still rising warmly from it.

Now his mouth has moved down from her neck and he is kissing her breasts through the fabric of her brassiere, his hot breath drawing deep moans from her and he simply must feel all of that plentiful soft flesh directly under his tongue, so he moves his hands up her back and blindly starts worrying the buttons of the garment. They are small and fiddly and he is no longer coordinated enough to manage them. Elsie brings her hands up behind her back to help him and as she does so her chest arches more strongly into his searching hot mouth and she moans his name deeper and thicker to the night. Finally, the garment if freed and she brings her hands back to brace herself in her fervour against his shoulders. Charles feels the fabric start to loosen near his lips and he grabs its cup between his teeth to draw it away from her body as one of his hands runs the last strap off her shoulder.

God! It is just so exquisite to be able to unwrap her.

He drags the smooth cloth out from between their bodies on his fingertips and tosses it aside as his mouth dives back to her hot red skin and he captures one of her stiffened nipples deep into his mouth, groaning long against her silky soft womanliness as his tongue plays around the contrasting hardness of that perfect bud of life. His other hand kneads firmly at the whole of her other cushiony breast and his fingertips play gently into the cup of her scar.

Love her...

God…

Love…

Her.

Fragments of sentences and pure feeling are all that loops through his mind in that glorious moment as she throws her head back in ecstasy rubbing her moist heat hard and fast against him as she cries out her Gaelic endearment to him into the night air.

"A-Hagherr! Charrles! Mohr!" His hips rise up to press himself harder to her core and he feels the friction of their lust slick wet and hot along his length and then it rapidly cools across him. Such extremes of sensation he has never known- he will never know- not anywhere else!

Elsie. Love.

The vinegar sting of impatient hunger draws fierce liquid from the sides of his tongue. He wants to engulf all of her sweet and salt–filmed breast within his mouth. He knows he cannot ever possibly get enough of her.

Dear God!

"Oh God" he growls into her flesh- helpless in the face of his insatiable need for all of her. The vibrating tones of his voice against her stiffened nipple make her shudder and mewl and grind once more against him.

It is too much!

NEVER enough!

All their thoughts and feelings are aligned. Elsie needs to be naked and she roughly breaks his mouth's hold on her breast to lean her hands back on his thighs as she draws her feet up level with his hips.

"Charrles..Help me with these. Oh God. ..please, quickly!" She pants out. Her chest is heaving and her stomach muscles are trembling in her need to have him. Her breasts are still craving his touch so much that as he fumbles with the clasps of her shoes she grasps at her own breast and squeezes it mercilessly as she grinds her heat again into the base of his hard length, rhythmically moaning long and loud- his name, her name for him, their God.

"Charrles..Charrles…A chagair… Ó dhìol!Ó dhìol!

The wall lights glint off the clasp of her necklace. Her hair drapes in a tangled mess around her own slight fingers pinching at her nipple. SO excruciatingly beautiful.

"Oh dear God!...Elsie…Yesss… Yess…"

Wild. Refined. Elsie. My Elsie.

"Want you…" he pants and gasps to her "..Sooo much, Els..Oh, God! Els…"

He forgets the clasp of the second shoe and merely pulls it from her foot with a firm tug and throws it aside to join the other one somewhere on the floor about the bed. Then he hurriedly pulls her bunched stockings away from each leg, brushing his hot fingertips over her sensitive ankle bones making her yelp out in delight. He fumbles wildly with one sheer stocking that catches around his wrist as he tries to toss it aside. A frustrated growl escapes his lips as he frees himself from the silk and then briskly shoves his fingertips into the waistband of her briefs and frantically pushes down to remove them, but he huffs a harsh breath out through his nose when he realises that the few buttons at her side are preventing any movement.

"Hunh!..Els…"

He looks so frantic and forlorn that somehow in her grinding fervour Elsie sees this and moves her supporting hand from just above his knee to sit upright over his thighs to hastily undo the buttons. Then she falls forward onto him- gripping heavily, almost painfully, into his shoulders as she captures his lips in yet another bruising kiss, her hands running up to the back of his lust reddened neck to tangle her fingers into his lovely tousled silver hair- grasping strongly at him and pulling his head back lightly onto the quilted headboard to better expose his neck so that she can run her tongue over his moaning and vibrating Adam's Apple and up and back along his manly jawline that she so admires- kissing and licking into the cleft of his chin and then lavishing a hot wet path over to his ear to nibble and caress his fleshy earlobe with her love swollen lips. He groans low and bucks his hips beneath her. She is relishing having so much access to his skin and sharing her chance to adore his beautiful body.

His broad hot hands make short work of pushing the last remaining, frustratingly restrictive piece of clothing from her that has been keeping their fevered bodies apart. As the garment reaches near her knees, Elsie arches her chest against his torso as she pushes her legs out long from her position astride him and then shimmies them down her lower legs until she can kick them off, leaving them scrunched somewhere near his ankles with his own crumpled trousers. She feels him kicking the pile of clothes aside for they are annoyingly distracting- all he can cope with in this moment is the feel of the smooth sheets against the backs of his legs as his mind and body tries to keep track of every intricate and lovely detail of his wife.

Her belly is pressed hard against him now, he can feel her hot wet curls scrape against the base of his manhood as his hands knead once more across her muscle tightened thighs then the fullness and softness of her hips. He slips his fingers around the back of her legs again to fondle at her silky, smooth, hot and wet folds and she bucks sharply backwards against his fingers.

Chiaroscuro!

There are so many startling contrasts to her that he cannot possibly process it all and can only shudder bodily against the vigorous and lithe length of her form against his. He groans deep into her pliant mouth as she cries her sudden pleasure to him.

"Oh God! Elsie please.." he rasps out "Now, please. Yess…Els…Els…Now!" he pants out as he bends her legs to straddle him again. She presses and runs his hot and silky hard length down through her slick and throbbing valley as he uses his firm grip at her hips to guide and raise her up over him. They sigh long and low together into their frenetic kisses. When she feels his hot tip at her ready entrance she pushes her hands hard into his shoulder flesh again and breaks their heady kiss to raise her head away from his so that she can see deep into his loving and lust burnt eyes.

In unison, their faces break into the most joyous of smiles as she slowly begins to lower herself onto him.

Bliss!

They both release low guttural groans as she takes him into her by the slowest of increments. It is as if this final barrier to their most intimate connection, now breached, has quelled their turbulent minds from their almost furious explorations of their purest senses. They are both incredibly lucid and present- in the moment- with each other.

Still breathing hot and heavy together- they pause.

She feels his very tip throbbing just inside her.

He feels her inner muscles hotly pulsing around him.

Then she drops herself a little lower.

They groan long sighs together and she lifts ever so slowly again, until he is almost fully out of her, then she plunges more rapidly down, taking just a little more of him.

Heaven!

They look blissfully at one another, almost laughing aloud at their joy for each other as she repeats the process- slow then fast until she finally has him completely filling her.

So deep.

So very deep.

And then they stop just to feel it all. His strong hands gripping into her fleshy cheeks and pressing her firmly down onto him. Hot and pulsing. Full. Gentle. Holding. Deep. Holding on. Sharing this moment of pure union together. Taking it all in. Savouring their finest connection. Ingraining the memory in their minds and drawing this boundless love into their shared history.

So full.

So embraced.

Perfection.

Their hearts and eyes silently say all these things to the other.

Closeness.

Total accord.

Love.

"Oh, a chagair…" they both say together and kiss tenderly once more.

He lifts one hand to gently trace his fingertips over her budded necklace into her soft skin as Elsie rolls her hips to rub her stiffened nub against his rasping curls just above where they are joined. They feel her moisture pooling rapidly around them as she starts to draw slowly up once more.

Exquisite!

"Oh Charrles… soo…so… different…" she stammers out. " It's Soo good…mmm…so verry good!" Her brogue is utterly mesmerising to him. She lifts slowly and plunges down once more- and it is all too, too delicious not to repeat that languid motion that brings on that tightening joy within them and skirts on the very edge of blinding ecstasy, so she rises once again and this time he pushes up to meet her on her rapid descent and they both cry out their wonder together – …Charles! …Els..s..s! Then her hips roll and she rubs them firmly together once more.

His face to her shows an entrancing mixture pain and pleasure. She is not hurting him, but he is strung out over the conflict of his desire to let go of himself completely and safely in her arms and his fervent wish to give her so very much more of himself.

Is this rapture? Dear God!- He is so very beautiful.

She moves again- slowly- she wants to show him now with her body- show him her heart's truth- show him everything he means to her- show him all of her love for him- by giving her whole self freely and fully to him- giving him everything she has. She is happily and completely open in his arms and she has never felt more completely held and safe and powerful and free than she does in this moment with him. She feels blessed to hold him so safely within her body- wants him to feel her right there with him- on that fine line with him- in his pain and in his pleasure. In his rapture. In his absolute perfection. He is perfect.

"Ó dhìol! A ghràidh. Tha mo ghion ort, a chagair," she repeatedly chants her devotion huskily as she rhythmically rises and falls over him "Tha mo ghion ort, a chagair,…a chagair…Oooh!"

"Elsie Love. Els. Aagh! -Tha mo ghion ort, a chagair. Oh! Oh, my Love. My Love!"

His voice to her is like hot thick mead on a bitingly cold night. She continues gasping her devotion to him out over the delightful friction of the slow and precise but steadily increasing pace of their movements together- until she calls, almost incoherently, to him- "French! Oh Charrles! Say it! Tell…tell me! Say…oh god! French...in…in French.. say…Ah…augh!"

He understands- and somehow he drags up through the stupor of his molasses-thick and love-strung mind the phrase for her… She wants it. He knows its undeniable truth and he can give it. He can give her this.

His hand reaches up to tenderly cup her jawline as his smallest finger reaches down to trace a short path back and forth over the small-budded pearls, pressing them lightly into her neck as he keeps his eyes locked onto hers. Her left hand is spread over his chest- above his pounding heart and he grasps at it with his own left hand, fondling around the base of her wedding band, and then he tells her with every ounce of conviction he has within him.

"Je vous aime de tout mon cœur, ma chérie…Je t'aime de tout mon cœur, ma chérie."

His voice! Exquisite! Never…never…heard…anything…soo…

She cannot think anymore, she only feels. Feels his deep sonorous and truthful baritone vibrate straight from his heart in words she has never heard before but fully understands- rumbling like wild sweet thunder through his chest, through to their hot touching skin, past the gold band of their promise on her finger, stringing around the sensitive webbing at her palms as he strokes her there, featherlight, with his fingertips - she feel his hard deep length touching her- completing the connection to his words- meeting at the inside of her very soul- and in that instant she climaxes around him- starting soft and slow and then shuddering up uncontrollably to a fast rise of agonisingly sweet ecstasy. She wants to give him so much of herself. Wild fragments of thought return –

Want to give…

Give it…

Give it all… all

All.

For him…

He…

He.

Always…Always!

Gives me… so much… more!

Her untamed voice rises with her- a wordless song sung deep into his heart.

" Mohr! Moohhhrrr! Aagh-hagh! Mohr!"

Dear God! She gives me all! She gives me everything!

Her head keens sharply backwards as she wraps her arms heavily around his head and draws to him her heaving chest. His eyes are misting with the weight of unfallen joy for her as he lavishes kisses all over her breasts- anywhere he can lick and reach from the crushing grip she has in his hair. She tastes of hot and salty vulnerable lust and it is all for him. That he loves it is not nearly enough to describe what he feels- Is there even life beyond this love?- Beyond this gift? He absolutely revels in the gift of her finest pleasure- shown only to him- only in his presence. He is fighting for air against her but what he really feels that he could actually black out from the exquisite pain of this bliss. He needs to find his voice so that he can hang on to the reality of her, but he can only groan and show her with his body. He bucks his hips up into her- I am here, Love! I am here!

Monosyllables rise from somewhere within him – forming over his groans as he pounds and rises beneath her- trying to hold her up – helping her to soar even higher "Oh! Els!..Els! Yess! Yess! Love! Ah! Ah!"

She pants and gasps high while she keeps juddering over the top of him- finding yet another height of total piercing pleasure that she never knew she could ever have.

"A-hagherrr! Moohhrrr! Charrles! CHARLES! Ó dhìol! MOOHHRRR! Hunh!... Aah! Ah! Ah!"

Her final shuddering moment of pure bliss takes all power of sound from her body- all breath. She just shakes and jerks silently and rises with the gentlest violence around him until she glides to her finish- where finally she can draw a shaking, high-pitched, yelping and sighing breath as she collapses fully back down onto him, her breasts shivering around his head as he pants out hot and sultry breaths onto her heat sparked skin. She still grasps at his hair like it is her lifeline, clasping his head strongly against her pounding chest.

Finally she releases her death grip on his hair and he lifts his shining reddened face- filmed with her piquant, lusty perspiration and the residue of his thirsty kisses. His eyes are alight with absolute joy for her- his gentle hands soothing her in long smooth strokes up and down her back and sides, rolling around her rounded cheeks then down her thighs and the backs of her calves, then languidly all the way back up again. Her skin relaxes and ripples beneath his touch as she kisses fuzzily across his chin then rests her forehead heavily against his- still feeling his thick and hardened silken heat pulsing within her, filling her completely- she looks deep into his loving eyes.

The first word she can form again is her hand reaching out for the lifesaving rock of him in the midst of her stormy ocean.

"Charles." -Just for the blinding, pure and simple fact of him. He holds her.

It is enough.

It is everything.

"Charles."

"I'm here, Love. I'm here." He pants out- still catching his breath. He raises his large hands to fully cup her face and he kisses her tenderly on the lips. Then looks deep into her deep blue eyes- "Are you all right, Love?"

"Oh…Charles." She kisses him again. "So much more than 'all right', a chagair- So very much more…"

And yet, she still she wants to give him more, and this thought alone helps her find renewed energy for him, and she rolls her hips around him again. Tentative at first- for her legs have weakened and she knows that she will be sore, but it is worth every strained muscle to see his pleasure rise up within her grasp again.

That he held back from finishing with her just then astounds him. He worries that she is tiring so he asks her, "shall we move, Love?"- Just as she rolls her hips languidly around him and rises slightly over him again, making him groan long and low to her.

An absolute marvel!

His Elsie.

Her Charles.

"No." she gasps with renewed pleasure- she did not know there was anything left that he could do to add to her contentment- but she finds it from him once more. She roughly pants out "Just like this Charles- I can see you- I want to see…I want you just like this… but help me."

He needs no other instruction- but he wants her to know she does not have to- she can stop if she needs to. His hands still holding her face he reassures her, "Just tell me, Love- tell me if it is too much."

She just nods and shows him her absolute trust with her bright and longing eyes- drilled directly into his, her bottom lip already drawn into her teeth and she smiles impishly around it as she tries to hold onto her freshly growing and delicious enjoyment of the feeling of him hard within her.

She is new and different to him again! How? She looks so beautifully different and all he can do to let her know how superbly lovely she is- is… just to kiss her with the most extreme tenderness he has ever felt.

With his thumbs wedged under each hip bone and his large hands spanning around to grip that gorgeous flesh of her buttocks he starts to guide her slowly up over him and down again. She is so swollen and tight around him- her sweet fullness holding him- loving every inch of him. He feels it all in her most intimate slow and hot and wet and rhythmic stroking of his manhood. They keep their eyes locked together and continue to enjoy that slow pausing friction as her hips undulate and her tightened nub rubs against him each time they bottom out together and fully connect once more.

So luscious!

She assists him to start with, but as their pace increases he takes more of her weight in his strong hands as her muscles tire and cannot keep up with where they both want to go. His eyes stay on hers the whole time needing to know that the energetic friction he is chasing suits her too. But there really is no question- she is with him all the way- willing him to find his pleasure and building her own pleasure again just in watching him- in shadowing his pursuit.

Knowing she is with him his eyes feel safe to leave hers and he sees her rampaging at full pace over him as if for the first time. Most astoundingly to him, he sees the free and bouncing rhythm of her full legs and hips as she engulfs him- then her blushed and lust tightened breasts as she leans in and they rub furiously up and down his chest.

Magnificent!

She is like a wave of pure delight crashing over him and as she rolls back from his chest, his head dives unheeded into the oncoming maelstrom. His mouth latches onto one of her stiff nipples like it is the final thread of his sanity that he must maintain- he must. He hears her cry out in agonising pleasure- but it is muffled by the pounding rush of blood in his ears that suddenly seems to be draining rapidly to his loins. He thickens and judders, then, amazingly- he slows – his ears have cleared of the throbbing rush of blood and he hears her again – and with his head instantly and frantically lucid- he knows- he wants - he must have her with him as the final surge of his most powerful love for her rises steadily- driving onwards to connect with her completely.

Nothing…

Nothing Better!

Nothing better than…

This!

With me…

ELS- with me!

"CHARRLES! CHARRLES!"

Divine!

"Aaugh! Els! ELS!"

He roars loud but muffled into her breast, her nipple still grazing up and down his swollen tongue as he dives one hand off her hip to rub his fingers frenziedly at her engorged bud as he thrashes beneath her and strikes up rapidly, repeatedly- rising up and meet her once more where she is at- right where she is soaring above him.

Luminous!

She shouts his name over and over and he feels it through his skin. He knows. He knows- she is there with him and he is free to ride out this perfect storm with her and so he throws his head back into the pillows to watch her- his most piquant pleasure- as she drives her eyes into his and calls him on and on. He shouts prayers of thanks and utter nonsense to the night air in his blinding ecstasy- in his final pitch and swell- surging- right there. Right there. There with her- as she crashes back to earth around him and he plummets safely into her waiting arms and heart.

His head is spinning. Completely spent. He foggily senses the weight of her head against his sweating, heaving chest. Her silken swollen muscles still shimmer lightly and reflexively around him- like a shaking hand that does not really want to wave goodbye. His own hand rises before his eyes- hefty and dream-like from her hip, wilting into her hair across her back as the shaking fingers of his other hand drop away from her sodden centre and flops onto the bed, his palm adrift in supplication.

"Oh… Els…Els…" It is all his ragged throat and mind can manage.

Blood still pounds heavily through her veins; her chest is still blushed and palpitating roughly against him. Through her euphoria, she hears his distant call of thanks to her she lifts her swimming head to see Charles' head lolling elatedly up against the headboard- and, astonishingly, she feels sudden and complete clarity in that moment. She is perfectly lucid and…and proud…but also humble- Of all things! And, quite astoundingly, she feels capable of more than just monosyllabic speech, and so Elsie stops and holds completely still for this blessed moment.

She knows she has shown herself to him- that he accepts all of her- and all that she has given- but she wants to tell him too–for she feels that, in always giving her such thoughtful gifts and ensuring her safety and seeing to her comfort and her pleasure and her complete contentment first, he somehow manages to show her and give her more than she has ever managed to do so for him, thus far. She wants him to know how that care feels as well. She wants to tell him just how boundless she knows her love for him to be. Today- on this day- their first ever full day together. Together and alone. Just them- with absolutely no one else.

She threads her fingers through his hair and gently brings his head onto her breast once more. She holds him tight to her, wiping the sweat back from his brow, using it to slick back his wonderful thick hair from his fevered face, using her finger tips to massage gently into his scalp, she leans down to kiss across his forehead and inhale his virile manliness from his hair. He is still buried firm and intimately deep within her. Infinitely happy in her loving ministrations to his comfort, she moves his head back to rest into the softness of the pillows and leans over him to look closely and deeply-openly- and with pure honesty into his darkened eyes. She repeatedly smooths the lines of age and any lingering worries away from his brow and the corners of his eyes with her thumb-pads.

She knows she gave her vow to him in church yesterday- and she meant every word of it, but they were coined by someone else- written for anyone who needs them- and she feels she needs to tell him in her very own words- even if they say much the same thing all over again. She does not know where she is drawing the breath from for all of this, but the words come. They come from somewhere deep within her and in a smoky low voice, accent heavy and thickened with emotion, she calls him into her heart and she tells him- and she uses the language of his own great heart so that he will better know her truth-

"Charles, my dearest love- there has not been one single moment of this day that I have spent with you that I have not completely adored. It was like having our very first day together, ever – just the two of us and no one else- Only us. Together- Alone. And I will cherish it always. A ghràidh- My Love. Thank you my love. Thank you for being my man- my most wonderful man. I feel like I married you all over again today too, a chagair, and… I only wish I could give you more,…but… sadly I cannot promise you something when we do not know anything with any surety beyond this life we have. But, what I can definitely promise you is this much, a chagair- that until the very end of my days- I will love you. I will. I will always love you with all of my heart." And then she whispers it once more against his lips, "Tha mo ghion ort, a chagair." And then she seals her truth and her vow to him once more with a kiss upon his sweet lips.

His darkened eyes have pricked with heavy liquid love.

She gives me so much- so very, very much.

He thought he could not ever possibly love her more than he has already across these last years- these last two days, but she always helps him to see- helps him to plumb greater and greater depths of himself and his own devotion. His heart is full and it aches enormously as it rises and catches in his throat. He pulls her tight into his embrace and leans his forehead heavily into her own. His voice almost squeaks as it struggles out past the fullness and weight of his overwhelming emotions, "Me too," is all he can manage right now as he tries to swallow the heavy lump in his throat. But she knows- she did not need to hear it from him, but she still sees all of him in that moment- hears him say it all the same. He knows her truth and she knows his- and it is all…and that is enough. It is enough.

CECECECECE

They stay holding one another, Elsie's head resting on Charles' chest, wedged up under his chin and listening to his pulse. They lazily circle fingertips onto each other's skin and through the other's hair until the chill of the night air on their drenched skin becomes uncomfortably cold. Elsie's legs seem to have jellified once more and it is with an unavoidable groan that she uses her own hand to physically lift one of her legs up and over Charles' lap until she can flop back onto the cloud of pillows next to him. She has seen the same shaking weakness in women after they have given birth and she wonders briefly, and somewhat weirdly if this is what it might have felt like for her. But then, she cannot help but giggle in silly pride that she might feel this merely for the act that might have brought about such a result in the first place in days gone by. You undeniably lucky old duffer, Elsie! She thinks to herself.

"Happy, Elsie?"

"Mmm...Absolutely, my love" she purrs languidly. "You?" she asks back, as she somehow manages to move her leaden legs to hook the eiderdown between her toes and drag it up the bed until she can reach it to then toss it over them both.

"Mmm…Hmm." He mumbles before releasing a large, contented yawn.

"Roll over this way a bit, Love- or you will get cold- the sheets are damp."

"Hmm…" He rolls and replies sleepily, "you'll never hear any complaints from me regarding such a lovely circumstance that brings me back into your arms." It took all the energy he had left just to string what he imagines are somewhat eloquent words together… he is not even entirely sure it actually made any sense. It does not matter, he figures as he yawns again. His last vision is of Elsie shuffling closer to him and wrapping the blankets lovingly around his shoulders as she settles comfortably-sated and sleepy-into his embrace. The last muffled sound he hears is her sweet admonishment to him-

"Quiet, you."

Following her directive, he sleeps with the warm scent of clean soap from Elsie's hair feathering near his face, and with the heavenly musk of their lovemaking rising from their skin and marking a new memory in his subconscious mind of their beautiful and incredibly fortunate life together.

CECECECECE