Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
The sound startled me, because it held no hysteria, no shame, no fractured disbelief. It was the laugh of a woman standing squarely in the middle of her life.
I looked down at myself. My body seemed older, yes, but not dimmed. Stronger through the hips. Full through the breasts. Rooted. I wore a simple summer dress. The wind pressed it lightly against my legs. On my chest rested my grandmother’s pendant.
The sea lay beyond us. The meadow rolled around us. Somewhere not far away I sensed a house before I saw it, white walls perhaps, or pale wood weathered by salt, and windows facing west.
Henrik’s hand had gone between my thighs, his fingers knowing as always on my clit and in my needy, empty sheath. As I started to come, I saw him, in the vision, a distant figure on the shore, waving to us, his family, beckoning to us to come home and eat what he had caught for us in the little bay.
I could feel that somewhere the Sons of Odin waited for our return, that the vision’s scene represented a respite from our eternal labors like the one we had here in Sicily, making the naughtiest kind of love in the medieval ship sanctuary. Life, I could see, even as I cried out into a second orgasm, my hips moving between my master’s cock and his skillful fingers, had so many joyful moments in it, of every kind: pure and innocent… focused and laborious… hot and shameful… visionary and mysterious… intellectual and scholarly… loving and tender.
I could never see them all, even from the highest bough of Yggdrasil. I would never stop trying, though.
“Yes, Herra,” I gasped. “Oh… oh… yes…”
The End