eighty-one           

           At firs' him lays way off 's if Jewel disease' o' somethin'. But it turn chilly. I lyin' on my si'e, face t'ot'er way, when him seem sense I shiv'rin'; dere him be, pressin' up agains' me, wa'm my spine. I wiggles my butt, a mite, lets him know I 's thankful. Lay dat way for a while, us do, fit like spoons. Feels him sigh, 'ventu'lly... feels him squeeze my arm... den stroke it nice an' gen'le... den reach 'roun' li'l futter... cups my nekid breas' wiff 'is big ol' palm—fel' small insi'e dat han', no matter my bosom swoll... gets to feelin' edgy, but him not fo'ceful; fac' him ack so shy my nipples pucker up 's if dey's cold... dey's hot, o' course, an' him knows it, but don' s' much 's budge—'cep' fo' what be nuzzlin' de groove o' my behine... make me get aw wet, what kine su'prisin' 'coun' I ain't in'er'sted... 'til Zach'ry slide dem fingahs futter down, spread 'em 'roun' my belly's bulge 's if him imaginin', by de feel, what growin' insi'e... kneadin' it like a loaf o' unbake' bread... curious mo'e dan sex'al... make me wanna purr... lower, den—cain't he'p myse'f; when he fine'ly reach de spot what wet I moan; wan's it bad 's he do... dat when Zach'ry ask—"would it be awright"—him ask. So I hitch my dress pas' my wais', arch my lowah back, an' when I good an' ready him slip it in real smoove, move it like a plungah wo'kin' a churn'cep' don' pumpfol' me in dem pow'ful arms, instead, an' hug me wiff such ten'erness I turn to cream direc'ty—him likewise; vibratin' tip to toe... but stayin' stiff insi'e... lie like dat 'til sleep come an' carry us onto mornin'... when Zach'ry do me twice mo'e fo' us rise.