As the slow lingering kisses continued, smack on smack, lip to lip, and face to face the adoring, delirious, drunken awkwardness of lust and love blended together in the tumultuous finality of copulation. Standing there Leon could resist her beckoning body no longer. Between kisses he ran his hand down along the front of her dress, searching vainly for the camouflaged openings which eluded his discovery. She gently patted his back and let go her hand in an effortless affront on his fly. With gentle shock she felt the stiffness of Leon against her hand. She popped open his pants as he gave way to her plan. He stubbornly resumed his quest for her zipper and finally found it tucked away at the nape of her neck underneath hair and clothes. Moving in an even stroke he released her zipper halfway, revealing the petal white back to his vision alone. He felt his heart thump, thump, thumping against his chest in great pumping motions. He was aware of his trickling blood, his nerves on raw ends of hurtful reaction to his ravenous appetite for the fleshy, white, body quivering before him. His were the frothy, foaming feelings of a great capitulation to the demands of heart and mind before him.
The dress fell away at last and all of a sudden, and yet by and by, he came to the visual completion of his quest to know Virginia Moyers. In a second the dress was forgotten, along with the once complementary panties, now rumpled in silly protest against their untimely fate. Standing and yet tottering toward the beckoning bed of white, was Virginia, hot with the flushed desire and confusion of decisions made between quick breaths of blind lust and drowning emotion. Her practical slip and functional bra was no match for Leon's thinking fingers. His hands moved as if in concert with the sway of her wants and needs. He didn't do one thing wrong. As the bra gave limply away it seemed the final barrier between her friendship and her kingdom of sacred intimacy was stricken down.
Her two breasts contrasted the chest of smooth skin. They peeked at him and he stared back admiring their lovely shape and pleasant plumpness. He caressed first one and then the other as Virginia began to feel the electric running of chemical reactions within her body and mental synapses within her brain. By now she had unbuttoned his fly and his pants easily gave way to the demands she placed upon their threadbare seams. Her dress of fine material hit the same floor as his old pants of seemingly ancient bolt, which collapsed with token ease to the commands of her fine white hands. Nothing in the world was going to stop him from making sloppy, happy love to her. No Gilead Falls judgments, no evaluations of conduct, no lists or assumed sets of values were going to operate to the deterrence of this pure and unavoidable love. They both plummeted toward the bed with great finality. On the way down, Virginia whipped off her panties with great happiness. They crashed down next to one another, locked in a subtle embrace of tender expectation. Her craving, yawning, wetness invited him with undulating madness. He tore at himself to present a calm look of self control. This failed as he felt the coy gentleness of her bush whisking across his thighs. He felt her weight, so desirous and good, speaking of every pound of her upon him. She felt his wry toughness give passage to her love with nudges of delight and wonderful pokes of strength. They squirmed together in playful happiness washing away the sins of generations of institutional regret and ignorance in one act of near divine interplay.
