This installment is inspired by Anne of the Island (I think- I can't recall which one-
- seriously-Will somebody relieve my inquiring mind on this one? Where was the cottage with Gog and Magog? - please comment if you know.
Anyway. On with the story after a couple of important notes:
Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.
Final tweaking is my own.
The Sticks
"No," he chuckled, his eyes warm,"this is my very real, very dear family friend, Brigitte. When I saw this place, I realized it was the same place as this."
Darcy handed Lizzy a faded color photograph of the front of the house. Standing before it, smiling, were 2 older ladies, a middle aged woman, and a woman who looked to be in her 20's. She was stunning in a long white dress, and long, dark Botticelli curls. She was holding a young boy with dark curly hair and dark eyes, like hers. The boy's solemn expression was a giveaway and Brigitte had changed little. She seemed as ageless as the mountainside which she occupied.
The woman in white haunted Lizzy. She shook the thought from her mind "This is you? Here? Are these- your mother and…?"
"My grandmother, my great grandmother and our dear friend Brigitte- as you see. I'd always wondered where this was taken, but they've all passed and Catalina never told me…." Darcy smiled, half to Lizzy and half to the woman sitting next to him.
"Nonsense! We both come from families of hermits who don't take to the outside world at times- I don't exactly seek company myself. Catalina wouldn't have told you: she didn't make that trip. Your mother kept wishing her there, as she had such a fine time, as did you, as I recall. You wanted to take my foo dogs home with you. Then Aphrodite had Jorge and, well, I expect time just got away from us. Sad you all never made it back. Your Mother was too soon to pass after your Great Grandmother Martinez De Gonzalez..
Your mother Aphrodite, so dark and graceful, although that last time she sounded like a damn cat, wearing those hippie bells on her ankles and wrists. She'd shake them and you'd giggle endlessly…But I'm sorry- I am just reminiscing on what must still be tender memories for you, son." Brigitte reached over and patted Darcy with her wizened hand.
"Actually, it's nice to hear someone talk about it," Darcy softly responded as his hand brushed away tears. At the same time, droplets of rain started plunking the roof above their heads and the clouds overhead burst in an ever escalating downpour.
"Look! It's started to rain! Why don't I get us some tea. Lizzy, you enjoy yourself as a guest. Would you light a fire, young man? I already chopped the wood, but it would be nice to have a man in the house to help out with such a duty for once. It's been too many years…" her voice faded as she bustled into the kitchen.
Lizzy heard the boiling, clinking and clattering associated with the rituals of tea. Darcy had begun to build a fire which took several minutes to start in such damp conditions. Meanwhile, she was occupied with senses and thoughts bombarding her – the conflict of Darcy's many personas, his earlier control dissipating into kindliness and sentimentality, the beauty around her that Lizzy struggled to absorb.
Lizzy took out her sketch pad and started making a few meager attempts to capture some essence of the tableaux before her. As Lizzy was finishing a sketch of the fireplace wall, Brigitte came in with a tray of tea and associated tea things. It looked like a feast straight from an English mystery and smelled divine. Darcy emerged from the kitchen assisting her with bringing even more tea things to the coffee table before them. Lizzy noticed the spread was complete with silverware specific to the occasion as well as the complimenting delicate handmade linens. "Brigitte, I am speechless. Maeve didn't tell me…."
"Well, Maeve wouldn't, dear, would she? She is a woman of many secrets- as am I." The lady's eyes twinkled with merriment of secrets shared with another dear friend. Lizzy couldn't help but laugh.
"Now let me see , what have we here?" Brigitte asked as she hunched over Lizzy's sketchpad. "You did a lovely job of capturing Gog and Magog.: When Lizzy looked at her questioningly, Bridget explained- "my Foo Dogs*- you know- guarding the temple as it were."
When Lizzy's eyes reflected recognition, Brigitte went on, "Did you bring a camera? You are welcome to take photographs as long as you don't share them. I wouldn't want the legends of Aerie Antiques becoming well publicized. I have enough nosy parkers trying to poach my land, my things…."
"Of course not! I would never do such a thing, Brigitte." Lizzy said.
"I can well vouch for her honor, Brigitte. Lizzy has a history that goes back as well, I imagine she understands the concerns of family heirlooms and properties as handed down by the Gardiner family." Darcy explained.
"Of course." Lizzy confirmed this statement with intent. It then occurred to her who said it and so she looked at Darcy with confusion. She quickly schooled her expression. "Brigitte it would not even compare but I live on a farm north of Dona Maria that was started by my Great Great Grandfather Gardiner."
"You don't say! Are you related to the crazy woman, Phil?"
"You know her?" Lizzy gasped. Her day could not be any more unbelievable than it already was.
"Well, like I say about secrets," Brigitte chuckled. "She and I have taken our share of antiquing expeditions together, she comes up sometimes and gets fruit, then she'll send me a pie in the mail. Goodness, I can remember her when she was just starting out her business and we met at an estate sale on an old farmstead in _. "
"I hope that I can have such long lasting friendships." Lizzy mused.
Brigitte beamed. "Honey, you seem to have inherited the Gardiner charm so I'd imagine you don't hurt for friends- or boyfriends?" Brigitte leveled a gaze at Darcy.
He reddened and conveniently changed the subject to the repast before them, intently lifting the tops of the two teapots to breathe in their fragrances. "Brigitte, the tea's steeped long enough: what would you like- Darjeeling or Herbal Ambrosia? You have an even bigger tea collection than when I was little. I thought you were a witch with all those jars that looked like they had magical potions of leaves, twigs and flowers!"
"Well, who's to say I'm not!?" Brigitte's musical laughter infected her two guests. With that, Lizzy, Darcy and Brigitte heartily supplemented their rich conversation with equally delectable food and drink. The three experienced the plentiful delights that only a rainy afternoon of tea, cakes and captivating tablemates can afford. Darcy's memories continued to flow, and Lizzy experienced, through his descriptions, the enchanting sensations from that brief shining vacation when he was 10.
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Conversation meandered into other woodland days. Darcy spoke of childhood escapades at the Camp his family ran. On one occasion, the Wickham, Richard and Darcy had taken bets on who would lose an unofficial archery contest. The loser would have to go to the dance that night in an outfit picked by the others. Darcy, who normally outperformed everyone in archery, happened to lose in what he later learned was a rigged game, as his 'friends' had messed with his arrows.
He had been made to wear a loincloth and angel outfit, carrying said quiver and bow. What topped it off was that the boys demanded he go around to people and offer to poke them with his love arrow. His mother, who saw her teenage son marching into the made-over cafeteria, quickly put an end to the prank and ground him to his room. The mortified Darcy was grateful while his friends looked on, laughing hysterically. By the time Darcy finished the story, Brigitte's eyes were streaming in laughter while Lizzy's eyes were round as saucers.
That image of Darcy was now firmly implanted in her conscious and would not let go. He looked at her curiously and she blushed.
It gave her a deep satisfaction of having almost primordial sensations and memories fulfilled that weren't her own. That she could feel such connection to anyone, let alone him, mystified her. How could she have been so exasperated at him this morning and be utterly taken with him mere hours later? Before that he was indifferent when he wasn't bossy.
This afternoon was a collection of moments which were the making of life, more important that their original reason for coming. Perhaps the agenda for obtaining costume and prop bits were the vehicle for this experience, for her experience with Darcy. How could it be when he'd not even planned to come up here?
She wondered if Brigitte truly was an old witch and if she had indeed put some kind of changing potion into Darcy's drink…. Or perhaps some kind of potion into her own: How else could she experience such a material change in her attitude towards him, that she could think this was destined? Wickham's warnings lapped at her subconscious.
Lizzy tried to avoid Brigitte when she would catch the woman looking back and forth between herself and Darcy. If the crone caught Lizzy's eye, she'd simply chuckle and shake her head. Although Lizzy was discomfited at being an object of the woman's matchmaking, she otherwise thoroughly enjoyed being here. Brigitte, who bore the inscrutability of a merry sphinx, conveyed her pleasure in sharing her bounty with two rare people who could actually appreciate the experiences before them.
She was inspired by the octogenarian who was clearly at peace with her eccentricities. Time seemed to pass very slowly as they ate, drank and talked. The crone told stories of her far flung travels which interconnected with the furnishings surrounding them. When the last drop of tea was drunk and the crumbs cleared away from the table, Brigitte noted that it had only been an hour and a half since sitting down.
Since the guests were filled with food and drink, it was time to show them the collections which they'd come to see. Thus it was with great pleasure that Brigitte introduced her newest charge to The Wardrobe. Brigitte had been a CS Lewis fan and was inspired to turn a bi-level room into The Wardrobe. Because the cottage was nestled in the mountain, rooms had to be literally carved out of it in some places. The area had been part of a gentle incline, it was leveled and kept at a higher level, about 1 ½ feet from the ground floor. As such Brigitte was able to find an old armoire, remove the back, replace it with curtains, and situate this armoire in front if the room's entrance so that the Wardrobe appeared to magically expand.
With a flourish, Brigitte opened the doors and told Lizzy, go on then, in you go! Lizzy looked at her in confusion, giggled and stepped in, gasping as her hand pushed through fabric to an empty back- a portal to a fantastic world on the other side- literally a room full of antique and vintage clothes, costumes, shoes, accessories and jewelry. Lizzy made small exclamations as she recognized pieces that she only knew of from books or costume reproductions. These were the real thing. Then, laid out, she saw the coup de grace.
In front of her was an elaborate yet elegant necklace of pearls, along with a pearl encrusted diadem and veil, pearl bracelets, earbobs, and a pearl encrusted handbag. Other pearl items were laid alongside these- Combs and hair pins, another pair of earbobs, a huge broach, pearl edged gloves and matching sash- clearly not part of the set but beautiful representations enough that each bride could be well embellished. " Is this Regency?"
Brigitte explained, "Well, it's cheating- the original pearls on the necklace were of a similar design but they had to be restrung long before I got them, and were reconfigured a bit. The rest are from the Edwardian when the Neoclassical look was again all the rage- a la Poiret or Erte.* I suppose on stage only the severest critic would care really- don't you think?"
Lizzy readily agreed, and the enthusiastic Brigitte continued to reveal tray after velvet lined tray of jewelry that would be perfectly at home in any Regency salon or ballroom. Upon discussing rental terms that Maeve had come to with their host, Lizzy couldn't contain her astonishment at Brigitte's generosity. The woman expressed her joy at the items being put to good use and went on to express a few choice words about underhanded dealers and developers. Considering the reception Brigitte gave to those unsavory characters, Darcy to let the matter drop.
A worried Lizzy had other ideas. "Really, Brigitte- who is going to protect you- all this treasure with just you- aren't you afraid that you could get robbed, or worse?"
"Don't worry too much- I do have a son that watches out for me. He lives up the hill a ways- he retired and moved back to live near his old mother.
"And, I do have other standbys." Brigitte moved aside some clothing to show wires and a box with a flashing light.
"This place is wired up like a Christmas tree with this alarm system. My grandson did it for me a few years ago. Works so well that foraging raccoons set it off and I have to tell the alarm company not to come out at least once a week. The gun is just for show- you know- scare off all the riffraff. Of course the most effective deterrent is the woman in white who seems to haunt the area. People say they hear strange scurrying noises or bells when she walks the roads or woods."
Both Lizzy and Darcy looked at each other. The idea of the woman raised the hair on the back of Lizzy's neck, but she soon became distracted by more trunks, cases, and miscellaneous holders of treasure. Lizzy made stacks of all the items she would take back with her and then it was Darcy's turn.
Brigitte showed him to an unusually nondescript, shabby chic looking utility room adjacent to the kitchen. There, Brigitte revealed shelves laid out in countless artifacts that would make excellent prop pieces- writing sets, grooming items, utensils that Lizzy guessed belonged in the kitchen… and many more unrecognizable items. When every relevant item had been appraised and plundered, or alternately set aside, the three started amassing every container at the doorway next to Brigitte's carport addition. Darcy backed up the Mercedes and began carrying trunks, cases, and all manner of boxes to his boot.
He meticulously arranged the lot, then carefully covered it in several moving blankets and then shut the trunk, then repeated the process in the back seat, packing and covering all until there was just enough space for him to see through the rear window. Lizzy realized she would not have been able to accommodate so many items and conceded- without grudge, no less, that Darcy's offer to take his car was much appreciated. Darcy's expression bore an aloof graciousness about her gratitude. She wondered again at his turns of mood.
With no little regret, Lizzy and Darcy said their goodbyes to Brigitte. Both of them hugged her fiercely in their turn, both swearing to visit again when the items needed to be returned, and hopefully, on many other occasions. As Darcy embraced the tiny woman, she whispered- don't let her go. Darcy just nodded, not knowing what to say.
Just before Darcy started the car, Brigitte called, "wait! Lizzy, I almost forgot- I wanted you to have this!"And Brigitte brought out a sweet black vintage sweater encrusted with beads in a floral pattern. It was in pristine condition and even lined. Lizzy heaped thanks upon Brigitte before reluctantly leaving.
For the next few minutes, Lizzy was lost in thought about was, for one, there was the album Lizzy had begun to peruse- one with Brigitte in every far flung site imaginable- Brigitte on a camel at the Pyramids in Egypt, Brigitte clad in white with a group of people who appeared Carribbean before a jewel toned sea, Brigitte in a sari in a temple, Brigitte amidst the monkeys at Angkor Watt, Brigitte amongst merry revelers in a Henge, Brigitte again in white atop the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuachan with butterflies fluttering around her, Brigitte in every exotic locale imaginable. It was as if, for fun, someone had photoshopped her in the midst of dozens of foreign spiritual centers- kind of like a roaming gnome. But, Elizabeth knew these were the real article. But the question of the album would have to keep for another visit, which could not come soon enough as far as she was concerned.
The mysterious woman was easy to ponder. Of course, she provided a ready distraction from the mystery looming next to her. She didn't know whether she wanted to try to sketch his character, just now. She'd rather enjoy their renewed solitude and hope for more moments like this afternoon where her sense of him was ignited into something that transcended his silly moods or her worries over the future.
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*this cottage is inspired by my fanciful ideas of a small out of the way cottage Anne Shirley discovered. My memory is poor- can't remember if it was Patty's Place in Anne of the Island or somewhere else. No image I could find could do my imagination justice.
*Foo dogs:www dot carters dot com dot /index/6008-oriental-objects-fo-dogs/
PS I know these are not the same as the dogs in Patty's Place. I used artistic license, imagining what a world traveling eccentric antique collector would find half a world away
*the mountains in this area have amazing fruits- cherries, apples etc. Carizozo is another small town on the way up the mountain. People sell cider on the side of the road.
* Erte and Poiret: they designed in the era of Downton Abbey. I preferred Erte: here's a good neoclassical example
www dot wikipaintings dot org /en/erte/athena
Stars in my eyes were shimmering lights
Only for MA eyes
Lizzy stayed quiet, allowing her companion concentrate on making his way down a darkening, wet road as rain continued to sprinkle the windshield and obscure his view. She found the harrowing drive a certain means of distraction from unrelenting thoughts of Him. Leaving today, she couldn't have imagined to share such a bond with Him, or that an eccentric old friend of Aunt Phil would be the making of those moments.
Disappointed that the afternoon would draw to an end tonight, Lizzy resolved to find some means of keeping him company tonight, no matter how they spent it. After several minutes the two spied the red of flares and police cruisers ahead, along with a miles long line of cars. When they pulled close enough, Lizzy got out and jogged the few yards to the next car.
She learned the entire roadway was blocked due to a jackknifed rig. It had swerved to miss a large red truck filled with antiques. Apparently the man in the red truck had swerved to miss a dark tressed woman in a long white dress who stood in the middle of the road, pointing at him, and the trucker swerved to miss the red truck.
The search party still hadn't found the woman. It would be hours before traffic would get moving. Shivering in her now too lightweight full length wool coat, Lizzy returned with the news, wondering aloud if it was the same red truck and same man that Brigitte had scared off. With the thought of some wandering specter, not to mention the long road block, both easily decided it preferable to stay the night at a motel in Cloudcroft than to wait for unknown hours on the dark, cold highway.
By now it had been a few hours since tea, and although both Lizzy and Darcy had eaten until stuffed, they agreed it must be the mountain air making them ravenous again. Elizabeth had grown easygoing from the good day and lightheaded from hunger. As such, when Darcy returned from the 3rd hotel with news that the only room available was at the Lodge, she had no complaint. Her calm and dreamlike attitude was disturbed a bit when, after the two consulted the Lodge's front desk, they learned the last room available was a honeymoon suite named the Love Nest.
"Damn!" She thought, inwardly. Those warnings from earlier in the day were building up in the tide of thoughts in the back of her head.
"Hmmmm." He pondered aloud. "Well, why don't we lock up the car, check in, and get some dinner. I'm famished." As an afterthought Darcy added- "would that be alright with you or did you have other plans?"
"N-no, that's fine." Lizzy stammered. It had been such a good day, and being in such close quarters might once again prove her undoing. He was so appealing in his damp shirt, after being so charming today….
"Shall we?" Lizzy was shaken out of her reverie by the object of it. The pair returned to the car, to assure that the car and the valuables inside were secure and get any other items the could rummage for overnight. Lizzy was nervous, but not due to the safety of things in the Mercedes.
When they opened the door to the suite, she wondered if it was fate that their trip was to end with certain eventualities. The room had airy Victorian Era white décor with elegant dark wood furniture. It managed to have the best of the era's needlework – rugs, handworked lace in the wall coverings, bargello chair cushions and the like- without causing the room to look fussy.
Small exceptions to this color scheme likely made the room work so well, such as paintings of picturesque woodland scenes and a blue upholstered chaise. Darcy noticed it as being out of era and recalling a David painting he couldn't remember the name of.* The most obvious deviation, however, was the coral duvet and cushions in complimentary hues which stood out from the bed linens' otherwise stark whiteness.
Hanging over the bed was a painting that Darcy instantly recognized as a *Christian Gottlieb Kratzenstein-Stub. Lizzy could see it clearly depicted Psyche and Eros. It earily recalled her earlier dream, and Darcy's teenage escapade. By the G-ds, she inwardly muttered. Each awkwardly settled what minimal belongings they had in the large suite and hurried to leave its confines. Lizzy tried not to imagine what the glint in his eyes meant. Her eyes wandered down his body, seeing evidence of his desire. She wondered what it must be like for him.
He cleared his throat and she shook herself out of the reverie, flushing. "Why don't we go down to find some overnight things." Her voice shook as she said the word overnight. She quickly added "I need a toothbrush and maybe something warm." Her stomach clenched at the predatory look he gave her.
They walked down the stairs and he was behind her. She was suddenly self conscious of her appearance, considering her hand made, clingy gray dress with a strategically placed Julia Margaret Cameron* screenprint that no doubt called attention to her cleavage, and then there was the white, lace edged knit under dress and hint of leg displayed every once in awhile.
She also wore a pair of buttery black riding boots and black leggings, and wondered how it would feel with those legs wrapped around him- the erotic feel of the leather rubbing against him as they… Lizzy was thankful she made it intact to the Lodge shop. She concentrated intently on finding her overnight items including the toothbrush in question. She had also found a long, scoopneck cobalt dress which was much warmer than what she had on, so Lizzy paid for the dress, never taking it off.
Darcy had left her to shop and they had agreed to have dinner in an hour. Lizzy returned to the room and took a steaming shower and slipped on her new dress, layering it with the grey one and putting on her new beaded sweater and her long coat for warmth. As Lizzy sat at the vanity putting on makeup, Darcy entered the room and had his turn in the shower.
Embarrassed at the forced intimacy, she tried unsuccessfully to act like he wasn't there. Lizzy's face grew flush when Darcy emerged from the steamy room with merely a towel around his torso. She stole more than one look at his physique while Darcy dressed in the only partially obscured closet area. Lizzy got an even better view when she tilted the vanity mirror slightly, bringing even more of Darcy's reflection into view.
She blushed as Darcy caught her eyes in the mirror when he emerged fully dressed in his jeans, sweater and jacket. "Time for dinner?" She asked brightly. Other guests already filled much of the dining room. Even so, Lizzy and Darcy were miraculously able to find a cozy place right next to a roaring fire. They ordered and tried to make conversation while waiting for the meal. Despite having elected to order from the appetizer menu, their wait was interminable due to the rush.
To make the best of things, the two drank warm cocktails and snacked on the homemade bread from a basket on the table. With only bread and a Kahlua hot chocolate in her stomach, Lizzy felt lightheaded, warmer and decidedly less inhibited. She excused herself and went to the ladies room. Lizzy emerged without the top layers and Darcy appreciatively noticed the new dress, or rather, what it did on her body.
"I was warm, "she explained.
"So am I," he whispered.
"Don't do that. I can't resist you and I end up doing bad things."
"Bad things?" He leaned in like a sleek big cat, ready to capture his prey. She felt his breath, sending pleasant shivers down her body, ending in an ache between her thighs.
"That's why I'm mean to you, Mr. Darcy." Lizzy had turned to face him, her lips inches from his.
"That's immature. You should be disciplined. I wonder what I should do about that…" his whispers tantalizing her lips.
"Don't Stop?" She said weakly, in a question that ended in a whimper of pleasure as Darcy found the side slit in Lizzy's dress and ran his finger up her leg. Her silent breathing came more quickly with his caresses.
"I wonder if you could learn discipline while I gave you pleasure in such a public place…"
Her breath hitched and Lizzy's upper body tensed. She tried to keep the facial mask of a mere romantic interlude that was much less intimate than the explorations being conducted under the crisp white linen tablecloth, under her dress. Lizzy felt Darcy's breath tease her ear, his lips tantalize her neck. Meanwhile his fingers expertly found and caressed her core, which was damp, engorged and very sensitive, even through the fabric of her leggings.
Lizzy desperately tried to muffle her gasps, keep her eyes from screwing up. Lizzy's lids drooped with pleasure, her lips parted as she softly panted. To casual onlookers the couple appeared merely affectionate, even as Lizzy was mounting crest upon crest of bliss until she orgasmed in near silence.
Their timing was impeccable when, just as Darcy withdrew his hand from under Lizzy's skirt, the waiter approached with their food. After the waiter departed, Darcy sensuously tasted his fingers, his tongue barely visible between his lips. He then dipped is fingers in the fingerbowl, wiped his hands and started to dine.
Lizzy watched in bemused silence, only then realizing she had not yet touched her food. Both ate quietly, warmly regarding one another and taking a stolen kiss or caress every once in awhile. When Lizzy and Darcy finished the meal, he insisted on paying. Lizzy asked, "Does this mean we are officially on a date"?
"I thought that fact was already established before we ate. If you need some more convincing however…" Lizzy let his question hang in the air as he finished paying and they walked upstairs. Almost immediately upon setting foot in the relatively dim hallway at the top of the stairs, Darcy's lips were upon Lizzy's, and he had pushed her against the wall. They fumbled to the room and managed to unlock the door amidst heated groping and kissing.
"I'm quite enjoying being convinced, Mr Darcy, but I think I shall need more, ah, coaxing," Lizzy gasped.
"Take off my clothes." His tone was commanding.
Readily complying, Lizzy pulled off his jacket and sweater, her hands skimming Darcy's silky chest and muscled arms as she did so. She ran her hands down his stomach which elicited a groan from her lover. She pulled down his jeans slowly as he awkwardly kicked off his boots. When she peeled off his socks she heard more gasps of pleasure and she said "I see someone has a bit of a fetish."
"You have no idea." Darcy pushed Lizzy against the bedroom door and kneeled at her feet, one of her booted feet firmly encased between his firm thighs. He pushed her dress out of his way, licking and kissing Lizzy over her leggings from her belly, downward over her thighs, circling nearer and nearer to her clit. Lizzy moaned, her hands splayed out on the door's cool smoothness. She couldn't help but thrust toward him, Darcy's mouth bringing her agonizingly and infinitesimally ever nearer to bliss. As she did so, Darcy cried out in pleasure, Lizzy's movements stimulating his cock as it rubbed against the buttery leather of Lizzy's boot.
He pushed her toward the bed to sit. Take off your dress, he ordered. As she pulled it off, Darcy worked on taking off her boots and disrobing her lower body, his mouth covering bare skin as it was revealed. When she was fully disrobed, Darcy turned opposite her so that his mouth was near her pelvis and her mouth was near his cock. "In the end you will have no other choice but to agree that this is most certainly a date."
With that he parted her thighs and began the assault. His fingers probed her slick folds and delved into her wetness. As he did so, his tongue searched her nether regions, diving, lapping, deftly manipulating her into slowly building ecstasy.
At the same time, Lizzy caressed Darcy's member, rubbing her face on it, softly nibbling it between her lips, her tongue darting out to taste him and then envelop a portion of his length in her mouth. It was exquisite, the feel of his cock rubbing her tongue and the roof of her mouth as Darcy pleasured her. She hovered at the precipice of her orgasm, for what seemed hours, as they devoured one another.
Finally, as she exploded, Darcy pulled out of her mouth while continuing to lap and stroke away at her core, unrelenting as her orgasm went on and on. Finally when it was waning, Darcy turned around and found a condom which he'd earlier put inside the drawer of the nightstand.
Without missing a beat he rolled it on and plunged inside a still panting Lizzy. Soon she began crying out in pleasure, orgasming again to the point that she could not tell if or when one ended and another began. He groaned with every vibration. Lizzy could tell he was holding on, but only just. Finally, he roared in explosion and both merged in the white ecstatic heat. Soon after, Lizzy and Darcy collapsed into sleep under the covers.
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*the Tunnel: www dot tripadvisor dot com /LocationPhotoDirectLink-g46989-i20466939-Cloudcroft_New_Mexico dot html
*Margaret Cameron- I love this post about her. I can see the screenprint being the one with the woman with a butterfly on her forehead:
fromthebygone dot wordpress dot com /tag/julia-margaret-cameron/
* Jacques Louis David, Cupid and Psyche
* www dot pigtailsinpaint dot com /2011/04/page/4/
To everyone, esp loveinthebattlefield, thank you for your comments so far! You are great.
As to this installment: comments? anyone? please and thank you (insert smiley face) Which installment has been your favorite so far? I'd love to know. I can be persuaded to post during the week if I get at least 5 comments.