Tutu’s rough throat clearing brought him back to reality. ‘Oh, oh!’ He exclaimed. ‘Please, forgive me, I’m unused to the heat and I… I… ...’m terribly sorry.’ Emily eyed the priest as he addressed her grandmother. He was fairly handsome with straw colored hair and bright blue eyes. He looked far too young to be a priest, but here he was, come to teach the heathens about Christ and the rest of the lot. ‘Not to worry, Father Horton,’ Tutu was saying. ‘My dear Emily is always late for everything.’. His strong arms encircled her as he drew her toward him, her legs opening and finding his way into her, in the most natural way, no guidance, perfect alignment he slipped into her and as she enveloped him, welcoming him into her presence. His hips began a rhythm of their own, and Champagne matched it stroke for stroke, her entire being striving to capture him. His thrusts hammering into her as she opened herself for him, soon it was clear, she was his for the taking. Taking her up into another. More

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