Oh, it had been perfect. Even now it was vivid enough in Silmaria’s mind to bring a shiver at the memory. His smell, his touch, the weight of him, t...e knowing in his eyes. Even at the end of his forties, Master Edwin had been strong and fit, with a young man’s vigor and virility. As with everything else, he was gentle and patient. He showed her the tenderness and care that had been lacking in her first experience. His touch was slow and gradual, finding places in her that made her body ache so. He worked, he read, he watched TV, he masturbated to other things, he slept, and he hammered out a kind of peace of mind from one day to the next. He no longer cried, or not so much, he didn’t spend whole days aching for her, only minutes, and even that not often. The dreams were the worst. He would go for weeks with only minimal thoughts of her, shaking them off and pushing them away as soon as they arose, and then he would have a ‘Carol dream,’ and he’d be depressed for days. He would. More

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