She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump.
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