Ora knew Jim’s body as well as she knew her own, and Jim knew Ora from toe to head top, the curve of her hip, the tenderness of her breast, and oh, the sweet, sweet taste of her lips. Familiar places were touched, pressed, kissed, as both loved like angels from heaven were guiding them. Ora felt both of Jim’s hands grip the sides of her gown and pull it up to her waist. He did not ask, she did not offer to raise her weight from her back as he exposed her legs to himself, but she willingly spread her knees, giving him access to her most intimate parts. Without looking she found his member with both hands and guided him to its destination. Jim began to move, not gently, rutting like the stallion he was. Ora’s vaginal muscles clinched tight around the object of her greatest pleasure as it thrust into her over and over. She moaned as the first wave swept over her. Jim thrust more rapidly, his moment approaching, and filled her as her second orgasm spun the bed around, or so it seemed to. He guessed my desire and kissed me, fervently. When we broke for breath, I asked him about his course. He said he’d enjoyed it, and that he had improved his volleyball skills during the games that they played to keep fit. I told him that I was to visit my parents the next week. He asked about them, and I said they were fine. He took the hint, and asked me if I thought we could make a life together. In his normal, understated way, he was asking me if I would marry him. I looked at him, and said he had to earn his promotion first – I wasn’t going to marry a Flight Lieutenant. He dug into the pocket of his very white, crisp shirt and showed me an “official” looking letter. I couldn’t read it in the fading light and asked him to tell me about it. In response, he switched on the battery-operated “headlight” on the boat and asked me to read it. I leaned forward, and in the light of the lamp I was told he was now Squadron Leader Arun Venkataraman on the successful completion of his course..
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