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surprised to see that there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm on his rather long, intelligent face. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she turned away.
    ”I’ll just get my things,” she said, moving toward her scarf and jacket on the bed. She picked them up, then turned to find he was beside her, his arms around her. He pressed his cheek to hers, and she felt its surprising smoothness and great warmth. It burned against her cool one. Then he put a hand, carefully, on either side of her face and he was kissing her, softly, on the mouth. His lips were smooth, too, and he simply held her face up to his, his mouth on hers. It was a very long moment, and Elise felt herself tremble against him.
    Then he let go and turned away. “Now I’m embarrassed,” he said, and she saw that he was. “I didn’t mean to. I’m very sorry.”
    She had never, in almost twenty years, cheated on Bill. She hadn’t been brought up that way, and she was always smart enough to distrust the men who had made passes at her. This man was half her age, probably, and God knows what his background was. His shirt cuff was frayed, and his hair was badly cut. Still, she moved toward him. If he didn’t hold her, she would die. It was that simple. She had to be held. Nothing else mattered.
    Larry wasn’t sure what was happening. She was near him and then she kissed him and then they were on the bed, and she was beside him and in his arms, her lovely face against his, her long body pressed to him.
    She must have felt his erection now, against her thigh. Still he held her, and she began to stroke his face, so very gently. The tips of her fingers were cool, and she ran them into his hair. He couldn’t suppress a moan of pleasure. She was so beautiful, and now she was stroking his forehead. He didn’t know what she wanted, but he tightened his hold around her, and then she, too, moaned. It was a small sound from deep in her throat. I made her do that, Larry thought, and the feeling of power surged into his loins. Yet he made no move.
    Elise was luxuriating in the circle of his arms. She hadn’t felt this good in years. She couldn’t think. She wouldn’t think. She ran her hand over his chest, then down along his thigh. He was hard, aroused for her. She was so grateful she felt she might cry. She mustn’t.
    She moved her hand away and began to unbutton his shirt. “Please,” was all she said.
    “Yes,” he answered, and sat up and stripped in a few graceful moves.
    She felt awkward and frightened for a moment, lying there. But he turned to her and carefully began to undress her. She averted her face until he was done, then felt him lie beside her. He was long and smooth, and his erection pressed firmly against her leg. He turned her to him. “You’re so lovely,” he whispered.
    Then he was kissing her again, small, dry kisses of great tenderness, covering her face. She was almost shocked by the tenderness, she hadn’t experienced it in such a long time and hadn’t expected it now.
    For a moment she didn’t know what to do. Then he moved his mouth down to her breasts and covered them with the same kisses. She felt a flood of wetness between her legs and gasped at the pleasure of it. Oh, it had been so long, so very long. The goodness of the feeling.
    “May I come inside you?” he asked, his voice blurred. She was startled by the question, wasn’t used to it, and then felt another rush of pleasure at being able to grant permission.
    “Yes,” and he was inside her, moving so very slowly. There was none of Bill’s thrusting and sawing. She had forgotten, completely forgotten, what this could be like. Oh, the pleasure of it, the relief ! She was being held, and his smooth, young-smelling flesh covered her and entered her. This was slow, and he was so long that he could almost withdraw completely and then move back inside her when she felt she couldn’t bear the separation. She strained against him, and there was no pain, no boredom, no cessation