Elsa expected to feel guilty about this transgression. Some unpleasant feeling had briefly stabbed at her but it made her feel empty, unsure of what she was supposed to feel bad about. She had wanted to see Maria when she looked out that night and had sought her out of her own choice. She had been wondering about her out there in the dark. Maria wouldn't be frightened of all the little noises of the night. She was far braver than Elsa could ever be. Much shrewder than she seemed. She alone had sensed Elsa's desperate loneliness, her sense of abnormality over her grief. She knew that some people pitied her for her barren state. She could see that her feelings about her loss hadn't made sense. But nothing had shifted it. Until she had met Maria. Her summer had been transformed by this enchanting woman and even though she of all people made less sense in theory, in practice, she was perfect. Elsa was tired of sharing her. She wanted to be selfish and spend a week with her, just the two of them. Dawn was creeping in as she observed the other woman sharing her bed, face cuddled into the pillows, looking so sweet in repose. She'd been more than that the night before. Her inexperience was plain to see but she was confident in initiating and she responded with such vigour that Elsa could well remember that she herself was more shy than she would like to admit. Elsa had carefully lain her onto the pillows and Maria had smiled at her, so joyfully. She had no hesitation in putting her trust in the older woman. Maria had been unafraid to push for something harder, faster, more intense. Elsa felt herself falter a few times, not being used to being as assertive as she needed to be but she would not let Maria down. A woman's first time was very important. They kissed for a long time, caressing each other with their mouths and tongue, stroking and scratching skin. For Elsa, it had brought a new appreciation for sex. Her husband had always been gentle with her and while she was thankful, she had not been aflame with passion. There were moments where she'd felt pleasure and she'd never managed to capture it for long enough to know what it was that she had enjoyed. They had explored each other's bodies, Elsa marvelling at the difference between being in bed with a woman compared to a man. Perhaps it wasn't just because she had not had any intimate contact for the last few years, that she felt such a spark caressing her skin. Perhaps it was Maria. She couldn't tell. But as their confidence grew and their rutting got harder, climaxed in a crescendo, slowed down to an exquisite ember, she felt as if she'd flown away on a cloud. It was so new to her that she should have been frightened. But she wasn't. She hoped that Maria had felt the same way.