Somehow his body knew what to do, and he began to move, finding the right rhythm, feeling her following beneath him. What he wanted to say was: Oh God... I love you so much, I need you, never leave me, but his tongue was suddenly five inches thick and all he could do was mutter over and over, ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’ It was a delirium, a mania, so that he could only think in pictures, and the pictures were: the pressure of their skins together, the wet tightness of her around him, her. "I think so. I'm okay if you are..." Was he wild enough? She'd encouraged it -- but what about all that queer-bait stuff?"I'm good." Darla Jean paused a moment. "If I'd..."Randall scratched his head. "I dunno. I just dunno." Well, we talked about others..." Yeah," Randall nodded. "We did. But last night would have been too soon -- 'way too soon. I'm not... comfortable... yet. As it was, we pushed the edge of the envelope pretty far, don't you think?"Darla Jean relaxed. "Yeah, we did. REAL far!. More

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