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From: elf@drizzle.com (Elf Sternberg)
Summary: M/F slow
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Subject: {ASSM} Journal Entry 082 / 00843  [ Genesis 2:19 ]
Date: Thu,  4 Oct 2001 17:10:05 -0400
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Genesis 2:19
Noren, Virta 09, 0843

There's a little temple near my home, belonging to a heretical little
sect of what is ostensibly the Catholic church, but not like any of the
Catholic churches I remember from when I was a younger man. I always
thought that churches were supposed to be near the people they served,
but this one was far in the hills of the Rocchodain Spinward ridge. A
modest, cylindrical structure that actually seemed to emerge from the
hillside, it had a flat roof except over the door, where a downward
slope housed one of the most beautiful pieces of stained glass I have
ever seen. The glow from it shone down by the unvarying sun into the
space between the priest and the parish without blinding either.

That's a better metaphor for science than religion, I think.

Someone deliberately burned it down yesterday. We still don't
know who. Although the temple invited people onto the scene who are
investigating, we're not accustomed to hate-spawned violence like this,
especially not out of sight of the almost omnipresent AIs. "Almost"
being the operative word. The temple was without AI; without power,
actually. As close to their god as they could get; even to get to the
temple, you had to walk nearly a kilometer from the nearest Sdisk to
reach it.

I rode Laboratory out to the scene of the crime- it was a short ride,
although after the first hour my butt was telling me in no uncertain
terms that I hadn't ridden in a long time- Ouch! But I managed to
persevere long enough to reach the temple before lunch.

Almost two dozen people milled about the scorched building. Dress
clearly identified two as members of the investigative team, but the
rest of those there wielded hammers, saws, measuring tapes- all the
tools necessary to rebuild the temple as they remembered it. I looked
and saw that the stained glass window I had once enjoyed so much
now lay scattered on the floor beneath its former frame. The frame,
made from carefully crafted leadwork, hung down from the walls,
melted and tattered under the apparently intense heat.

Someone noticed me and pointed me out to another. I saw a young
boy tug on the sleeve of the priest in charge here. Like almost
all Catholic priests he was both male and human. "Kennet Shardik,"
he called out. "What brings you out here?"

"I heard about the fire, Father. I came to see for myself the damage
done." I dismounted from Laboratory's back and tied him a convenient
tree at the edge of the clearing before heading up towards the
activity.

"Came to gloat?" he called back as I walked towards him.

"No, sir," I replied. "I came to help. I understand that you'll only
take honest sweat to rebuild your sanctuary. Well, if you can call my
shoulders honest, I'm willing to put them to work for you and yours."

He looked at me suspiciously, then finally nodded. "Well, if you
want to help, we can surely use it. First, we need the boards for
the roof cut down to size." He pointed to a Felinzi and a human who
were measuring several five-by-tens. "I think Shar and Anna can use
your help the most."

"Then that's where I'll begin."

Shar and Anna turned out to be an amusing pair, really. They were
very clearly upset by the destruction of the temple but managed to
keep a good humor about. "It's not so bad," Shar said. "Place needed
a good airing."

Anna laughed. "You just wanted an open-air church the first time we
built it!"

"You were here for the original construction?" I asked Shar,
surprised. He had measured out the piece he wanted for a suspension
beam and set me to sawing at it.

"Yep. Long time ago."

"Are you a member of the church?" I asked.

"Not in my wildest dreams," he said. "I'm like you and probably around
a quarter of the people here. Just hate to see someone else's home
burn down and want to do what I can to put it back together."

I nodded. I put the saw through the beam of wood. "There you go,
Anna. Five point two meters to the mil."

"Thank," she said, taking the piece and handing it up to someone up
around the stone rim of the temple, who began fitting it into the
circular scheme of the construction.

Her thanks sounded a little gruff to my ears. "What's with her?" I
asked Shar.

"Pedon is her bioparent. She's not a member of the church, so she's
here mostly 'cause she feels obligated."

"To who? Father Pedon, or to the church?"

"To her father, I guess. Why would someone who wasn't a member of
the church feel obligated to it?"

I shrugged my head and went on to the next piece Shar had measured
for me. "Dunno. Religion does strange things to people."

"Yes, it does, Kennet," the voice of Father Pedon interrupted my
musings. That explained Anna's sudden miff; she must have seen
him coming. "It succors the weak when they have nothing else, it
strengthens the downtrodden when there is no strength, it gives one
freedom from death."

I tried to give Pedon a smile and didn't quite succeed. "We don't have
much in the way of weak and downtrodden on Pendor, Father Pedon. As
for death, well, Absolom's postulate hasn't held water for over
a millennia."

"Then why are you here?" he challenged. "You have often positioned
yourself as an enemy of Christianity."

"An enemy of religion, perhaps. No one in particular has my enmity." I
turned my attention to the next beam to be cut, scoring a corner with
a small hacksaw before picking up the big manual saw to cut it to
size. "I'm here, Father Pedon, because this is a place of support for
those who feel they need it. I don't question the needs of others so
long as those needs don't unfairly impinge upon my own." I put down
the saw, placed my hands on the beam and looked at him. "I'm here
because I'm angry. This is a house. God's house, even if I feel god
is an illusion by those who need one bigger than themselves. It's
a place where most of the people working around us come together
to share something. It makes no difference to me what that sharing
is. Someone burned down a home.  Someone put a big hole in a Pendorian
community that clearly worked." I resumed my sawing. "If nothing else,
I'm here to send a message. I don't put up with crap like that."

Pedon seemed a little taken aback by my long-winded explanation,
but he recovered. "Forgive me, then."

"For?" I didn't stop my back-and-forth sawing. Small flecks of wood
sprayed into the air around the bite of the saw.

"For my comment when you first arrived, the one about gloating. I
had no idea you felt this way. I was under the impression-"

I stopped. "That I would approve?" I snorted derisively. "I do not
have much ken to faith, Father; I find my wonder in the beauty of
atoms, stars, and the wonderfully complex creatures that live and
swirl around me. I apply raw skepticism to anything placed in front
of me with the word 'believe!' written across it." I went back to
work. "Over the past eight hundred years I have seen religion falter
and fade, and that's as I would expect.  I'll not hide my earnest
hope that we all outgrow a need for a Father bigger than us all and
learn to stand up to the universe without fear or shame. But burning
down the dreams of the faithful is not the way to do it."

"The dreams have not been burned. It's just a shell."

"Yes, but it's your shell, Father Pedon. You'll recover, and I'll help
in that recovery. But let's be honest men, Pedon. This hurts. This
is complete eeyaich." (Editor's note: "Eeyaich" was a common slang
in this century.  It is a slurring of the letters "E.H.," meaning
"event horizon," the distance from a black hole past which nothing,
not even light, may escape.)

He nodded. "It is such a shame you don't have faith, Kennet. We
aren't the enemies of science. Indeed, we believe in the importance
of science- God has commanded us to know everything."

"Father Pedon!" a voice called from somewhere further down the
hill. "Tarim is coming!"

"Be right there!" he called back. "Excuse me, Shardik. Our glass
expert is here."

"Tarim Wain?" I asked, recognizing the name. He had been the artist
who had first crafted the stained glass. "I hope he can restore the
damage. That was truly a lovely piece in the roof."

"I hope so too." He departed, leaving me back to continue cutting.

The morning progressed along as expected. We did a good job of
getting all of the support pieces for the roof cut before nine,
so by ten I found myself walking along the stone rim of the temple,
fitting the pieces into place carefully. They all radiated from a
centerpoint supported by a thick column of wood. Despite the fire,
the original column hasn't burned very much itself, although the fire
had destroyed most of the pews, the altar, and the roof.

"Go down there and check on this piece, would you?" Shar asked. "It
doesn't look aligned right."

I nodded and climbed down the ladder, walking in through the front of
the temple (and over the now solidified droplets of lead that once
held the windows together) to the center. "It doesn't look right
from here, either," I agreed. "It's a little too far to your left,"
I said, pointing up in Anna's direction. "Push it to the right and
try to lock it down."

She gave it a small push. "More," I said. Another push. "Again." She
gave it a shove and it came loose from the support it was lying on- and
headed right down towards me! I reacted slowly- my muscles were still
sore from the all the work I had done already, and I didn't get out
from under it. I raised an arm to fend it off as I tried to run and it
clipped me on the bicep. Something went >crack<. I felt immense pain.

"Ken?" I heard a shout from above.

"Anna?" I cried back, holding my arm. "Call a doctor! I think I
broke it!"

"You arm?" I nodded. "Hold still!"

In less than ten seconds several people had surrounded me as I slowly
dragged myself into a sitting position.  "Oh, prag," I swore. "That
hurts."

"Yep, that's broken," someone said. "Arms shouldn't hang like that." A
neural neutralizer found its way around my arm just below the shoulder
and the pain diluted from something blinding to just a dull roar that
made me know how bad it was.

"Kennet?" It was Pedon.

"Here," I croaked. "Hurt myself."

"It was my fault, Daddy," Anna was saying. "I shouldn't have pushed
it so hard."

"I shouldn't have been so stupid, standing underneath it like that."

"No one is to blame here," Pedon was saying. "Stop standing around,"
he said to the gawkers. "We have much to do, and a doctor will arrive
soon." He looked down at the arm. "That must hurt."

"You have no idea."

"You're right. I do not. The neutralizer says that you are in more
pain than it can manage wholly."

"That's good," I said. "Stop me from getting cocky and doing more
damage to it."

It was less than five minute before P'nyssa arrived with an
assistant. I managed a smile. "Hi, sweetheart."

"I can't believe you're still conscious," she admitted, looking over
my arm. "You must be in terrible pain."

I chuckled. "You know, people reading the Journal Entries are going
to think I'm accident-prone."

"You are accident-prone. This is going to hurt. Brant, pull."

She didn't lie. It did hurt. Worse than the uniform. I must have
blacked out for a moment, because the next time I looked down at my
arm it had a shiny new shell of white, rigid plastic around it. I
also had a brace around over the shoulder of my healthy arm, and a
belt around my waist. "I had to isolate the shoulder. Try not to move
it too much, Ken, and it'll heal just right in a day or two."

I nodded. "Thanks, love."

Her eyes reflected her concern for me. "You're so good with
machines, Ken, but when it comes to simple stuff you are clumsy and
accident-prone."

"Really?"

"Really," she said, nodding her head. Those solid yellow eyes had
tears in them. I kissed her and tried to make them go away, and she
held me close. "That could have hit your head, Ken."

"I'm glad it didn't. Brains tend to work best in the original
container."

She laughed. "Gross! That's disgusting! Your sense of humor didn't
break, at least."

"Nor yours." I hugged her back as well as I could. "Thanks for
the fix."

"Should I stay? Is there anyone else who needs help?"

"You are welcome to stay," Father Pedon told her. "We can use more
hands."

P'nyssa sighed. "Now that I know he's going to live, I have my own
work to attend to. Some other time, perhaps."

By the time evening fell the beams we'd been working had set into
place and the entire roof had been covered with a large plastic
sheet to keep out the rain. People inside had managed to sweep out
the remains, and although the floor still bore the burns and scars of
the night before it was still a church. All of those who had helped
that day remained to watch the service, even if many of us remained
in the back and just watched.

Anna stood next to me. A lovely-looking human girl, with dark hair
on dark skin, bright eyes and an incessant smile except when her
father was around, I still couldn't figure out what she got out of
all this. So I asked her, quietly, while we sat and watched.

"I turned my back on my father's faith a long time ago," she
said. "But not on him. I do love my Dad, even if I think he's a bit
of a fruitcake."

"Why?"

"He's a member of the Genesis 2:19 Group. It's so far out of Catholic
Mainstream I don't even know if he's on the Pope's roster."

"Which pope?" I asked.

She smiled, giving me a dazzle as she did so. "Good question. Anyway,
Genesis 2:19 is where Jehovah gives Adam the commandment to name
all the animals. It's the only commandment God gives man that has
nothing to do with avoiding or redeeming sin, and so my father's
church believes it to be the most holy of commandments. To know the
name of everything, to really know everything, is a holy cause."

"Sounds like a harmless enough heresy. I could even subscribe."

"I suppose," she shrugged.

"So what do you do?" I asked. "And why are you on Pendor? I thought
Pedon was a visitor."

"He is. So am I. But we've been here so long I guess I've gone a little
bit native. Might end up walking the Hall- something he desperately
doesn't want me to do. Considers Hallwalking to be a major sin,
turning my back on God's design for me and all that."

"You wouldn't do it just to dis him off, would you?"

"Not my style. I'll do it if it's right for me."

I nodded. We watched as the platen with the wafer was passed around;
I let it pass me without comment, as did Anna. Pedon looked visibly
upset at her refusal, but he passed on. "Hic non est tua mensa,"
I said softly.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Latin," I said. "'This is not your table.' A play on the phrase 'This
is not my table.' Back before there were churches, Christians used to
meet wherever they could. Priests would say, 'This is not my table'
when they believed someone at the table could not receive communion,
for whatever reason. It was left to the people at the table to decide
who was the interloper, and what to do about him. Now, it is we who
refuse the priest despite his desires. We no longer welcome his food
at our table."

"You sound sad."

"Whenever something passes from this world, even faith, there should
be some sadness." I watched as he moved from fen to fen. The looks on
their faces, the anticipation before hand, the relief-- or pleasure--
or whatever, just made me wonder what it was that they got out of this
rigamarole. It didn't make sense to me. And I knew, without rational
explanation, that it never would. I had my own faith- in myself,
my loved ones- that made all this seem insignificant to me.

She nodded. The room was crowded, and her body was pressed up against
mine in a way that, under other circumstances, I might not have found
disquieting. But here, it felt odd. Inappropriate. It also seemed
that she was doing it deliberately as a way of gaining my attention.

"Go with God," Father Pedon said, closing the ceremony. We slowly
shuffled out, passing the four people who now stood around the
Temple. After the last of the participants had shuffled out, Father
Pedon closed the doors with his hands, crossed himself before the
closed doors. As he walked past me, I nodded to him. "We will find
who did this, Father."

"I pray you do," he said. "And I ask you to be merciful when you do."

I watched him lead his crowd down the hill on foot. I waited
a respectful time before heading over to where I had tethered
Laboratory. He had stood calmly all day tied to the tree, but
then since under his hide he possessed a stainless steel frame
and a fusion heart, he was hardly in any position to complain. As
I hoisted myself onto his back, Anna's now familiar voice said,
"Going anywhere interesting?"

"Home," I said to her. I pulled on the reins and headed in that
direction.

"P'nyssa?" I asked as walked into the house. "Aaden?" No
answer. "Dave?"

"I am here, of course," the AI reported calmly. "What happened to you?"

"Church fell on me," I said jokingly. I reported the story to him,
leaving out nothing. In the end, I even told him about Anna.

"Sounds like an eventful day. You will be happy to note that we have
determined that whoever burned down the building is a Satryl, male,
and young. I'll have a DNA match on fur he left at the scene in the
next couple of hours. Even if he isn't registered, somewhere down
the line his parents are."

"Thanks, Dave." I settled back into the chairbag lying on the
floor. Essentially a loose sphere filled with gelatin, it conformed
to my body shape and let me sag. I felt as loose-limbed as the thing
underneath me, exhausted.

"P'nyssa has arrived. Aaden, I suspect, will be home much later. He
is conducting a flight-training exercise tonight."

"Ah," I said, remembering hearing my love mention that this
morning. The door opened up and I waved. "Hi, love."

"Hi!" she said. "Glad to see you made it home in one piece. Take an
SDisk, or did you ride?"

"I rode," I sighed. "And yes, it hurt." I turned to my left to rise
from a kneeling position. It's really the only way to get out of one
of those chairs. Gave her a hug with my good arm.

"I'm surprised you made it home. Didn't you get any offers from some
of those charming churchgoers?" she asked with that mischievous tone
she has.

"Actually, yes. But I turned her down." I shrugged, then winced. "I
can't write worth a damn with my left hand, you know. Looks like I'm
effectively out of commission for a couple of weeks."

"You better not be out of commission," she murred to me, her voice
developing that odd purr that I've long known to recognize as the
sound of heat.

"You surely don't expect me to... "

She nodded. "I've been at work all day, Ken. You've just spent the
last couple of hours doing nothing at all, I imagine, with your arm
like that. I expect you to perform, sport."

With a grin and a wink, I played the wounded party. "Do I have to?"

"No, you don't have to. I'll just go into the bedroom, by myself,
and take out one of those smaller dildos you own, and I'll put it
someplace I know you want to be." She caressed my cheek with her mitt,
letting it slide down my healthy arm to take my hand. We dropped down
into the bedroom. I started taking off my clothes. "Let me help with
that," she offered.

She took my shirt off, stroking my bare chest with her mitt. "Oooh,
so smooth," she said, making me a little self-conscious about the fact
that not only was I in the minority as a human, but that I didn't even
have any chest-hair. I had trouble growing a decent beard. In a world
where the term hair care was virtually synonymous with decent hygiene,
the fact that I didn't have a lot sometimes bothered me.

I helped her out of her one-piece jumper, taking as many opportunities
as presented themselves to me to play with her breasts. My opinion
of her breasts changes with the wind-- they're comfortable breasts,
soft and with a slight hang, neither small nor large. She says they're
larger than average for a Tindal her size, and sometimes my eyes tell
me the same thing, but not often enough to matter.

My fingers closed on her nipple and she moaned softly. "You like that?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Hmm," I said in investigation. "Normally, you're not much into
your breasts."

"I don't know what it is. Recently I've been getting very turned
on when they're played with." She brushed my hand away so she could
touch them herself. "What do you think it is?"

"I think it's gorgeous," I sighed, kissing her cheek.

"So," she said, "Would you like to fuck me where I have something
in common with Aaden?" She giggled when she said it. P'nyssa's
appreciation of anal sex was something else that had started only
recently. I was not normally one to complain about such privileges,
but to be honest I had enough butt from Aaden. Still, it wasn't
something I got all that often, and she has a gorgeous ass. I agreed.

We fell into bed. Actually, she fell into bed. I eased myself in to
take care of my wounded arm. She took advantage of my weakness to
take advantage of the situation, cuddling up to me and closing her
mitt about my cock. "Aww, you're not hard yet."

"Keep that up and I will be soon enough." Even as I said it, I
felt warmth flooding my cock as it grew heavy.  Under her skilled
fingertips, I soon had a rampant erection.

"You have a pretty cock, Ken."

"'Pretty?' Is that a word you normally use to describe penises?"

"Yours," she agreed as she leaned down to take it into her mouth
in one gulp. I gasped, my fingers twisting at the bedsheets. Rings,
she's good at that. With her, it's like her mouth is shaped around my
cock. Every millimeter of skin feels touched by her mouth, her tongue,
the back of her throat. I stroked the black tangle of hair on the top
of her head, minding the ears (I didn't have enough brains left to
tickle them the way she likes). She stroked my cock with my mouth,
making it even harder, if that were possible. My hand slid down the
side of her body, reaching underneath her to fondle her breasts.

She moaned as I gently pinched her nipples again. She wiggled against
the bedsheets as I played with her, waiting for her to tire, as she
always did. P'nyssa rarely had the strength to finish me completely
to orgasm.  That usually fell to me.

She did, but not until after she'd pushed me pretty damned close. I
twitched against the bed with desire, wanting to come and yet not
even close enough to think about it. "Wow," I sighed, "I wish you
did that more."

"I wish I had the jaw to do it more. I don't understand how you and
Aaden can go at it for an hour like I've seen you do." She slid up
against me. "Doesn't your jaw start to hurt?"

I slid down the other way, between her thighs. "You learn to ignore
it. It's not as important as the cock in your mouth." I kissed her
mound and she cooed, a go-ahead to continue. "Or the pussy."

She giggled, parting her legs wider, allowing me in. I was oddly bent
over as I nuzzled her cunt. I finally pulled my legs underneath me,
sitting cross-legged and bending over to lick from her mons down,
over her hood and her clitoris. "Yeah," she sighed. "Oh, yeah." Her
mitts came down between her thighs to hold her lips apart, granting
me even better access.

Her cunt has a sweet flavor that I've never found anywhere else. I
can't describe it-- we have a woeful language for describing taste--
but it tastes like I imagine the wines in the afterlife might
smell. The thick, interlocking tangle of indigo fur that covered her
cunt parted under our combined influences and her thighs tensed and
relaxed as I licked directly over her clitoris in the demanding pattern
she enjoys so much. "A little harder," she gasped. "Like that, yeah,"
she said as I focused my tonguing down to just over her clitoris,
a rapidfire direct assault that P'nyssa really liked.

"Yeah, morrrre..." she groaned as I licked her very hard, locking
my lips around her mons veneris, pressing so hard that my tongue was
almost numb. No other fem I've ever slept with likes oral sex as hard
as P'nyssa does.  The back of my tongue started to ache. She tensed,
and I could see the muscles in her belly pulling up into tight rings as
she started to come. I pressed hard as she thrashed into her orgasm,
waves of pleasure shaking through her as I finished her off. "Oh,
wow," she gasped.

I looked up at her through the now unkempt tangle of fur that covered
her mons in layers. "Good?"

"Yeah, very." She reached down with one mitten under my arm to pull
me towards her.

"Ouch." My shoulder ached; I had been in an unnatural position
for quite a while and it had been hanging painfully while I'd been
there. "I'm glad you liked it."

"You still have to fuck me in the ass," she murmured.

"Then I need a hard-on."

Her mittens did the work this time, and very soon she had me as
hard as stone. Turning over onto her knees, she reached for her
vibrator and pressed it up between her thighs. I crawled around
behind her, looking down.  "You've got a beautiful ass, Nyss," I
sighed. She does, too. It's round, and from this angle looks a lot
like an upside-down valentine heart done in indigo fur. Her cunt,
still damp from her climax, winked at me. I stroked it gently with
my fingertips, penetrating her. She moaned softly, the sound coming
clearly over the soft hum of her vibrator.

I pressed my lips softly to her asshole. "Mmm..." she groaned. She
likes that, if not as much as Aaden. I licked around her delicate
hole in circles, caressing her, seducing her to open up to me. I could
feel the muscles underneath her flesh twitching, relaxing. My tongue
pressed deeper, actually penetrating her for a few millimeters before
got back up to a kneeling position. With my one hand, I dripped some
lubricant from the ever-full bottle onto my cock and her hole. "Ready?"

"Go slow," she gasped. The vibrator was clearly doing its task
well. I bent my cock down to her hole (even though she's only about
ten centimeters shorter than I am, it really shows during sex. Her
legs seem much shorter than mine) and pressed downward. I didn't have
to go that slow. Between my tongue, her relaxation from her previous
orgasm, and the distraction of the next one coming, she almost didn't
react to my cock as it slid into her asshole.

By Osiris, sometimes I forget how good this feels! Her hole wrapped
around me, a warm yet somehow dangerous sensation, as I plunged down
deeper into her. I slid in cent after cent until I was into the hilt,
her asshole gripping the base of my cock. We moaned simultaneously
with the feelings we were both getting. I had her filled, and she
had me held.

I made very slow strokes with my hips, watching my cock go in and
out of her butt, feeling the soft caress of her fur against my thighs
with every press. The sound of the vibrator hum dropped a few tones
as she pressed it harder against her clitoris. "Harder," she gasped.

That's not something I normally hear from her during anal sex! I
gave her what she asked for, though, filling her asshole over and
over with the length of my cock, leaning over slightly and resting
my good hand on the headrest to hold me up, allowing the curve of my
hips to exactly fit the curve of her buttocks, moving just my hips
to fuck her hard. She was so tight, and there's something about her
ass that just feels hotter than anyone else I've ever made love to.

I started to lose a little control. I wanted, and she had what I
wanted. A loud moan, a long groaning "Ohhh!" of pleasure came from
as she climaxed once more. I could feel her entire hole tightening
up around my cock, giving me even more pleasure than before. I was so
close, I couldn't hold back. She had me wound up, so ready to explode,
when I came I literally saw stars before my eyes.

I slid out of her a moment later. She gave a more traditional groan
as she turned over. "Whew."

"Thank you," I said gleefully as I leaned over and kissed her. "That
was great!"

Her yellow eyes glittered. "You're very welcome. We should go
clean up."

I nodded. As we walked into the bathroom the shower started up as of
its own will. "Thanks, Dave," I said, appreciating the close attention
he gives us always.

As we got into the shower and I spread liquid soap all over her
buttocks, she asked me "So, what happened between you and that fem
at the church?"

"It was Pedon's daughter. While I normally don't object to having sex
with beautiful, large-breasted fems, there was just something about
her I didn't like." She started soaping me up as I spoke. "She seems
to have wanted me just to make her father angry. I decided to stay
out of that."

"Good reason," she said. "Turn around." I obeyed and she began soaping
up my backside. "I showered before leaving Cutters, but it looks like
you've still got the whole day on you."

"Pretty much," I agreed. "Yeah, so I came home. Snubbed her hard. Glad
I did, though-- making love to you is much more preferable."

"Especially when I give you what you like so much."

I laughed. "Well, I get enough butt from Aaden. I actually like
vaginal sex, too, y'know."

"I know. But sometimes when we make love that way your balls get
in the way of the vibrator. And I like the full feeling I get. It's
so different."

I kissed her cheek as I rinsed off. "I know that well." The water
turned off and the fans came on, drying us off. I shook my hair out,
then helped her brush her fur as the winds raged around us. She yawned
wide as I rubbed her down. "I'm ready for bed."

"Me too," she agreed. A few minutes later, slightly missing
Aaden, I was passing into sleep next to her warm and lovely body.

________________________________________________________________________

Journal Entry 082 / 00843
Genesis 2:19

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2001 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited to
electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.

--
Elf M. Sternberg, Immanentizing the Eschaton since 1988
http://www.halcyon.com/elf/

Testosterone-sodden young men too unattractive to get a woman in this
world might be desperate enough to go for 72 private virgins in the next.
        -- Richard Dawkins

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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