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But you deserve what you get: to be left severely alone." Hilda had risen and gone to the door. They tramped in ridiculous file down the lane again, in silence. "All I mean," she said from her entrenchment, "is that I doubt if you'll find it's been worth it, either of you!" "One man's meat is another man's poison," he said, out of the darkness.

"But it's meat an' drink to me." The lights flared out. "Don't make me wait in the morning, Connie." "married white slut fuck black cock No, I won't.

Good night!" The car rose slowly on to the highroad, then slid swiftly away, leaving the night silent.

Connie timidly took his arm, and they went down the lane.

She still kept hold of his arm, and they went quickly down the lane, in silence.

She shivered, knowing that Hilda might have snatched her away.

When they were in the cottage again, she almost jumped with pleasure, that she should be free of her sister. and she's _so_ nice." He didn't answer, went round doing the evening chores, with a quiet, inevitable sort of motion. And his anger gave him a peculiar handsomeness, an inwardness and glisten that thrilled her and made her limbs go molten. Then he looked up at her from under his brows, on which the anger still sat firm. "There's a candle!" He jerked his head swiftly to indicate the candle burning on the table. She took it obediently, and he watched the full curve of her hips as she went up the first stairs. It was a night of sensual passion, in which she was a little startled and almost unwilling: yet pierced again with piercing thrills of sensuality, different, sharper, more terrible than the thrills of tenderness, but, at the moment, more desirable. Though a little frightened, she let him have his way, and the reckless, shameless sensuality shook her to her foundations, stripped her to the very last, and made a different woman of her. It was sensuality sharp and searing as fire, burning the soul to tinder.

Burning out the shames, the deepest, oldest shames, in married white slut fuck black cock the most secret places. It cost her an effort to let him have his way and his will of her. She had to be a passive, consenting thing, like a slave, a physical slave. Yet the passion licked round her, consuming, and when the sensual flame of it pressed through her bowels and breast, she really thought she was dying: yet a poignant, marvellous death. She had often wondered what Abelard meant, when he said that in their year of love he and Heloise had passed through all the stages and refinements of married white slut fuck black cock passion.

The same thing, a thousand years ago: ten thousand years ago! The refinements of passion, the extravagances of sensuality!

And necessary, for ever necessary, to burn out false shames and smelt out the heaviest ore of the body into purity. She would have thought a woman would have died of shame. Shame, which is fear: the deep organic married white slut fuck black cock shame, the old, old physical fear which crouches in the bodily roots of us, and can only married white slut fuck black cock be chased away by the sensual fire, at last it was roused up and routed by the phallic hunt of the man, and she came to the very heart of the jungle of herself. She felt, now, she had come to the real bedrock of her nature, and was essentially shameless. There was nothing left to disguise or be ashamed of. She shared her ultimate nakedness with a man, another being. But it took some getting at, the core of the physical jungle, the last and deepest recess of organic shame. At the bottom of her soul, fundamentally, she had needed this phallic hunting out, she had secretly wanted it, and she had believed that she would never get it.

Now suddenly there it was, and a man was sharing her last and final nakedness, she was shameless. When what one supremely wanted was this piercing, consuming, rather awful sensuality. To find a man who dared do it, without shame or white female bodybuilders fucking big black dicks sin or final misgiving! If he had been ashamed afterwards, and made one feel ashamed, how awful! What a pity most men are so doggy, a bit shameful, like Clifford! He becomes merely messy and doggy, even in his mind. It needs sheer sensuality even to purify and quicken the mind. They are all dogs that trot and sniff and copulate. To have found a man who was not afraid and not ashamed! She looked at him now, sleeping so like a wild animal asleep, gone, gone in the remoteness of it.

She saw her own nakedness in his eyes, immediate knowledge of her. And the fluid, male knowledge of herself seemed to flow to her from his eyes and wrap her voluptuously. Oh, how voluptuous and lovely it was to have limbs and body married white slut fuck black cock half-asleep, heavy and suffused with passion! "Half-past six." She had to be at the lane-end at eight.