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The Spear of Flame

By: Moondrift



"I was at prayer when the Divine came unto me. I felt him press against my britch and I cried out, 'O Lord, I am thine.' Then I felt a spear of flame penetrate my depths and I cried out again, 'Oh God I surrender unto you, take me and use me all my days.' I lay, yielding myself, body, soul and spirit unto Him as flares of coloured fire consumed my being and I felt a felt a divine love beyond all words and worlds pervade me entire, and I returned that love. Then the spear of fire was gone, but the love remained."

I was reading a book I had picked up casually from the desk in Ralph's study. It announced itself as a "Complimentary Review Copy" and was entitled, "Divine Love and the Female Mystics," written by a psychiatrist. I was idly glancing through it when I came upon the above passage. The writer went on to say that what the mystic was experiencing resembled a female orgasm.

Intrigued I read on and came to a quote from someone called, "Hildegard of Bingen." The writer claimed that this was one of the earliest known descriptions of a female orgasm. It read: 

"When a woman is making love with a man, a sense of heat in her brain, which brings with it sensual delight, communicates the taste of that delight during the act and summons forth the emission of the man's seed. And when the seed has fallen into its place, that vehement heat descending from her brain draws the seed to itself and holds it, and soon the woman's sexual organs contract, and all the parts that are ready to open up during the time of menstruation now close, in the same way as a strong man can hold something enclosed in his fist." 

Since Hildegard was supposed to have been celibate all her life I wondered where she learned about the female orgasm.

The writer pointed out that he had treated a number of patients who were "sexually dysfunctional," but upon undergoing a deep spiritual experience they overcame their problem and became extremely active sexually. He added that many people said that at the moment of orgasmic climax they cried out, "Oh God." From this he drew the conclusion that sexual orgasm has an affinity with religious experience, and went on to cite the association between sex and religion in many cultures.

I sat at the desk somewhat bemused. I had heard of the female orgasm of course, but had never had one, and that such powerful passion was experienced by religious people seemed impossible. 

I lived on campus with my husband, The Rev. Professor Ralph Witman, Professor of Theology at the United Theological Faculty. Around me lived his colleagues and their wives, all allegedly very religious people. None of them seemed to be exactly fervent or looked as if they experienced "sensual delight." On the contrary, to even mention the word sex at one of the dreary faculty social gatherings would no doubt be met with a stunned and scandalised silence. 

The sole exception was my friend Stephanie, a dark complexioned and very sensual woman who reminded me of a gypsy, and who was inclined to say provocative things at the gatherings. Like me she was many years younger than her husband Boris, a lecturer in New Testament Studies. Also like me she seemed to attract the disapproval of the other faculty wives. 

Stephanie believed it was the fact of our being much younger than our husbands that drew this disapproval, since most of the faculty wives were in their forties or fifties. Trying not to be too unfair and critical, I must say they were on the whole an unappealing bunch. 

Their idea of a wild party was one small glass of sherry and much talk of their husband's latest paper or possible promotion, and the cleaning, polishing and flower arranging in College Church. If not that, it was the seemingly endless committees, Synods and Assemblies of the Church, the activities of which could not be drearier and to me mostly pointless.

Stephanie, not given to verbal restraint, referred to these ladies as, "Faculty cats." 

I had met Ralph at a particularly vulnerable moment in my life. Both my parents were killed in an avalanche while on a skiing holiday. I was nineteen and felt utterly distraught and bereft. I had no brothers and sisters and such other relatives as I had lived far away. 

I had taken as a single subject in my university course Comparative Religion, and Ralph had been giving us a series of half a dozen lectures related to Christianity when he heard of what had happened. He was very kind and considerate, letting me talk myself out with him, and I was intensely grateful to him. To cut it short, I mistook this feeling of gratitude for love.

I think he too took his feelings of compassion for me to be love. He was a bachelor and twenty years older than me and feeling protective he asked me to marry him and I agreed. That it is how I came to understand it after a few years of marriage.

I came to him as a virgin and right from the start our sex life was an unhappy one. Amazingly for a man his age he too was a virgin, and from the fumbling, and for me painful first night, I had experienced no joy in our sexual relationship thereafter. 

In most other things Ralph continued kind, gentle and generous, but in bed he was inept and gave the impression he did not like what he was doing, which apart from ejaculating into me, or rather, into a condom, was very little, and even that very little was not often. I think it might have been a relief to both of us if one of us had the courage to say, "Let's stop doing this because neither of us is getting any satisfaction from of it."

I wanted to talk to someone about the situation but was too inhibited to do so even with the free spirited Stephanie, but now, reading this book that associated sex with religion, I felt as if I could open the subject up as it were, at one place removed from me.

Although she lived no more than a hundred metres away from me I telephoned her before going to see her. She had asked me to do this early in our relationship, and although puzzled I did not ask why and always made a point of complying with her request.

"Yes, come over Verity," she said, and taking the book with me I walked to her place.

In her lounge I handed her the book and said, "Take a look at the passages I've book marked, Stephanie." 

She gave me a puzzled glance and commenced reading. After a few moments she smiled and then gave a gentle laugh, and said,"Yes, that's not a bad description of what it's like, then looking up asked, "What about it?"

I didn't really understand her question but said, "Don't you think it's weird, this sex and religion business, and is an orgasm really like that woman Hildegard describes it?"

It was Stephanie's turn to look puzzled. "Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"What an orgasm is like?"

"No, I've never had one and I think it's all a bit exaggerated."

Stephanie looked at me sadly for a few moments then said quietly, "Oh darling, you're another of the faculty nuns aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're not getting much in bed, are you?"

"Well, it's not really...it's not..."

"It's all right Verity, I know what it's like because it's the same with Boris."

"You mean it's like I said, exaggerated?"

She looked at me for a while saying nothing, as if making up her mind how to go on. Finally she spoke in a low voice, "No darling, it's not necessarily exaggerated, it's...it's finding the right person."

"And Boris isn't the right person?"

She gave a little laugh and said, "No, Verity, he's not the right person, just as I suspect Ralph isn't the right person for you."

"The how do you know...I mean, if Boris isn't the right person and you don't have an orgasm with him, how can you know what its like?"

"Darling, Boris isn't the only male in the world."

I didn't comprehend for a moment and began to ask, "What do you..." then it hit me. "You mean before you married Boris you..."

She cocked her head on one side, an amused look on her face. "As a matter of fact I didn't before Boris, unfortunately."

I was completely at a loss. Stephanie seemed to know about orgasm, but if she had not experienced it with Boris as she implied, and she hadn't had sex with someone before she married, "Then how...?" I began to ask, then it finally dawned on me; "Stephanie, you don't mean there's someone now, you couldn't."

She looked straight at me and said, "I could and I do."

"But Stephanie, that's adultery, it's a ...a sin, a terrible sin."

"Well tell me what I'm supposed to do," she burst out. "Am I supposed to do without sexual gratification for the rest of my life? Or am I supposed to divorce Boris? You know what that might do to him. On this campus they look askance at staff members who are divorced. He's not a bad man...in fact he's very kind, like your Ralph, it's just that they're hopeless in bed and I'm convinced that Boris at least isn't really interested in sex, so what do I do?"

"But sex isn't the only thing..."

"In life? Yes, I know, but my God Verity, it's bloody important when you're constantly aching for someone to...when you're constantly wet between the legs. I'm a passionate woman, Verity, and I need someone to want me...to enjoy my body...and me to enjoy theirs, and masturbation isn't like the real thing."

"Have you masturbated Stephanie?"

"Of course I have, Verity; at least, I did until..."

"But that's wicked."

Stephanie became angry, and rolling her eyes to heaven almost yelled at me, "For God's sake Verity, live up to your name; it means "Truth" and "Reality" so get real and face the truth. All right, if you want to go on as you are, frustrated and miserable, but that's not for me. Sex is supposed to be pleasurable...wonderful and gratifying, so why the hell should I go on never experiencing that pleasure? You tell me."

"I don't know what to say."

She calmed down and said, "Sorry to have lost my temper, but you were sounding like those faculty cats. If sex is mentioned in their presence their faces look like stewed prunes. Some of them have had kids and I often wonder how they managed it, but perhaps they weren't always like they are now; perhaps they were once like us, young and passionate but their miserable, passionless view of religion and the spiritual life has killed the fire in them, and now they have to pretend that they don't feel passionate...have never felt passionate."

She paused for a moment and I sat trying to digest what she had said, then she went on, "That's what we were destined to become like, Verity. Another twenty years and we'd be sitting around discussing what sort of cakes we are going to bake for the next Mother's Union Meeting as if it were of world shattering importance. Well as I said, that's not for me. It may be your choice, but please, don't try and foist it on to me. Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed."

"I don't want to be like them, Stephanie," I muttered.

"Then do something about it."

"I don't know what to do."

"Well I can't tell you what to do, Verity. I've told you my way of dealing with the situation; you've got to decide what's right for you."

"But...but even if I did want...you know...to take a lover...who would want me? It's all right for you, you're beautiful; there must be scores of men who'd want to make love with you, but me, I'm..."

She burst out laughing. "You mean you don't know, you really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're a very attractive woman."

"I'm not."

"My God girl, your surrounded by hundreds of horny young university students and you haven't even noticed how their eyes nearly eat you up? Every time you walk out on the campus they're mentally stripping you. If you haven't noticed I certainly have."

I felt my face flush and there was a tingling sensation in the region of my vagina. "You don't mean that, Stephanie," I protested.

"My God, you're either practising false modesty or are very naïve, Verity. Go and take a good long look at yourself in the mirror. Take off all your clothes and look. Now take your book and go because I've got a visitor coming soon and I don't want you distracting him," she laughed.

"You mean, he's the one...that you...you do it with?"

"Precisely; now go home and do what I said, take a look, and if you want to talk again give me a call. And read a bit more of that book, I'm sure you'll find it very enlightening."

I picked up the book, stood and made to leave. Stephanie came to me and putting her arms round me said, "I've let you into a very deep secret Verity, not a word to anyone, and think about what you really want."

"I won't breathe a word, Stephanie, and I will think."

She kissed my on the cheek and I left her.

As I walked home I saw a student approaching. He was fair haired and very good looking, tall and well built. "That must be him," I thought, and I watched him as he passed me. I expected him to turn into Stephanie's house, but he didn't; he walked right past it and turned at the top of the drive and disappeared from my sight.

I went into my house and flopped down on the divan feeling emotionally drained. I had always thought Stephanie to be a wild and passionate person, but the revelation that she had a lover added a whole new dimension to my view of her. 

Long held beliefs about love, sex and marriage and Stephanie's words, "Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed," were at war within me. The general views of what Stephanie called, "The faculty cats," seemed to be that life was to be endured, that it is a "Vale of tears" through which we must pass unblemished to reap some nebulous reward when we finally depart this life. The reward was of course compensation for having lived such a wretched and deprived life here.

I read some more of the book and found that it accorded with much that Stephanie had said; that sex was indeed intended to be a joyful and fulfilling experience and in addition had a spiritual dimension to it. The writer spoke of it as "Completion," "Being whole," and "The highest union of man, woman and God."

Ralph came in for lunch, and as he sat eating I looked at him, wondering if he had ever felt real sexual passion. Perhaps this faculty environment had sucked the life juices out of him, yet in other ways he could be so kind and warm. 

Thin, almost gaunt, with a slight stoop, I thought he would have made a good hermit; one of those people who hundreds of years ago went off on their own into the desert to conquer lust and fight with devils. People would come to him seeking his wise advice as he sat in his cave or tomb, or whatever it was he lived in.

He had no lectures that afternoon but announced that he had to attend a Synod committee meeting. Then he was gone, leaving me to wonder how I had ever agreed to marry him.

I cleared up the lunch time mess and sat to read some more of the book. I am sure it wasn't intentionally salacious but its constant dwelling on the pleasures of sex had its effect on me. I began to get uncomfortably wet between my thighs and I was sure my nipples had hardened. Little quivers of desire rippled through me and I recalled Stephanie's suggestion that I should take a look at myself in the mirror; I suppose you could call it an asset review.

I went upstairs to the bedroom and undressed, then standing before the long mirror I took a good look, starting with my hair and working downwards, mentally listing my pluses and minuses. 

Hair chestnut, trimmed just above the shoulders and with a nice natural wave. Definitely a plus I thought; eyes dark brown and almond shaped, some thought they had an oriental look. A plus if you liked those sort of eyes. Nose pert, slightly upturned; might be a plus or a minus. Mouth not the wide full lipped shape apparently much admired these days, but bow shaped and upturned at the corners; maybe a minus. Overall face heart shaped; don't know if that's plus or minus. Neck long and slender, almost fragile yet I thought graceful; plus or minus? Depends on your taste but I gave it a plus.

Something of a simpleton I might be regarding sex, but I was not so simple as not to know that once the face has been surveyed, it is what is below it that can determine the attraction or otherwise. 

I am five feet seven in height, and looking at myself the balance between torso and legs looked pretty good to me. I gave myself another plus. Breasts not large but very firm with nice up pointed pink nipples; again it was a matter of taste – whether one liked large breasts or small. I gave myself a sort of minus-plus for that feature. Waist about twenty seven and hips thirty four or five; no, not the alleged ideal female shape but how many women are? Another minus-plus. 

As for my legs, well, I've already commented on their length, but beyond that I wasn't sure. My thighs and calves looked a bit too muscular but the ankles are slender; a decided on a near minus. 

Thinking about my legs brought to my attention the now sticky rather than wet sensation between my inner thighs. It was uncomfortable and I hastened off to the bathroom to wash them. As I washed it occurred to me that I had never actually looked at my vagina. It's not an easy thing to do but I thought I'd give it a try. 

I went back to the bedroom and got out a mirror – about six inches in circumference - and lying on the bed and spreading my legs, I poised the mirror as best I could. There was the swelling mound of my mons with a scattering of curly hair; beneath and curving under my groin a long tight cleft with firm lips. I had never seen other women's sex organs so I had no way of judging how mine compared so I didn't give it a plus or minus.

Having got that far I placed my fingers on the lips and opened them; there beneath them were two more lips, pink and moist and by dint of a little more pressure I saw the opening to my vaginal tunnel. Experimentally I slipped a finger in; it felt nice. I tried a second finger and it was even nicer, so I began to move them in and out.

There was no great physical exertion involved, but I felt and heard myself starting to gasp. I had enough nous to know where my clitoris was, so I stopped my finger thrusting and touched the little spot. I felt a ripple of pleasure thrill through me. I touched it again, and then began circling it with my finger. 

The ripples became jolting shock waves that racked my whole body. I wanted to stop and I wanted to go on. Something was starting to happen that I had not experienced before. I cried out to myself as if to another person, "Stop Verity...stop," but Verity did not stop.

Something was coming...something like a low flying aircraft approaching that suddenly bursts upon you with a shattering roar. It came, the delicious pain, the weeping screaming pain of hot pleasure and anguish that you want to stop and not stop. I thought for a moment I was going to faint, but that passed and I seemed to be floating down on a cloud, but one that still gave me diminishing jolts until it finally came to rest.

I lay back feeling exhausted but wonderful, my face wet with tears and my lungs gasping for air. "So that was an orgasm," I thought, and drifted off to sleep.

I woke some time later and glanced at the clock. "Ralph will be home soon and I haven't even thought about a meal."

I got off the bed and put the mirror away. I felt my legs shaking a little and wondered what it would have been like if I tried to get up immediately after my orgasm. There was a slightly musky smell that seemed to be clinging to me, and realising that it was the aftermath of my masturbating and that Ralph might detect it I took a quick shower and then dressed.

I had always associated masturbating with feeling of guilt, believing that people who engaged in what I had been taught to think of as "Vile self-abuse" must feel terrible afterwards. I did not feel terrible, in fact quite the reverse. When Ralph returned he commented, you look cheerful, something nice happen?


The Spear of Flame



I tried to look casual and said, "Nothing in particular; it's just been a relaxing afternoon." 

He disappeared into his study and after a few minutes came back and said, "I've mislaid a book. I'm sure it was on my desk but I can't find it anywhere. Have you seen it? It's called, 'Divine Love and the Female Mystics'. I'm supposed to review it for one of the theological magazines."

I felt a stab of guilt but decided I'd better confess. "Sorry darling, I was having a glance through it today and left it on the coffee table in the lounge." What the hell would he think when he saw the contents of that book?

"Thanks darling."

He went off again, returning with the book just as I served the meal.

It was a few days later and after he had written the review when he said, "That book you were looking at; what a lot of rubbish. Some people have got sex on the brain these days; a lot of nonsense, don't you think?"

I truthfully replied, "I only read a few pages so I'd better not comment." Nothing further was ever said; but I get ahead of myself, so back to what I think of as "Orgasm Day."

I wanted to tell Stephanie about the orgasm I had experienced but there was no opportunity that day. Of all the times to choose, that night Ralph decided he wanted sex with me. To be fair it had been three weeks since the last time and usually I accepted this without much feeling one way or the other, but that night I felt slightly repelled. I did not refuse or protest, but the experience was unpleasant. I wondered if this was the price I had to pay for my afternoon orgasm. 

Next day after Ralph had gone to give his lectures I telephoned Stephanie who told me to come over. I was bursting to tell her of my experience and when I related it she said, "That's wonderful darling; a whole new experience for you, even if a little late in life; so where to now?"

I did not answer her question but said, "I thought I saw your lover when I left yesterday and thought how lucky you were to get such a goodlooker, but it wasn't him because he went right past your house."

"Fair hair and tall?"

"Yes...yes, he was."

She laughed, "That was him then. You don't think he'd come in the front way with all the faculty cats spying, do you. He came in the back way."

The faculty staff houses had been built back in the nineteenth century and had high walled back gardens with a door that led out to some park land behind the houses. Anyone entering the house from that direction had minimal chance of being observed. 

Suddenly one little puzzle was resolved. "So that's why you told me to telephone you before I come to see you; you might be with your lover."

"You've got it," she grinned. "Hardly any of the others ever come calling here so I'm safe with them, but you were different."

She returned to the previous topic. "So now you know what an orgasm is like, what are you going to do?"

Again I avoided the question and asked, "Is it very difficult having a lover?"

Here? Well, it's not easy because of the faculty cats, but at least you're fairly sure where your husband is, and as you know, they often go off to these week long conferences, so you can have your lover stay overnight. Anyway, it all depends on how much you like what you get, and I like very much."

I looked at Stephanie; she really was beautiful, and if she was lucky to have such a good looking lover, he was lucky to have her. The thought of them together gave me a slight frisson of jealousy combined with a feeling of sexual arousal.

Without really thinking I said, "I wish I could be more like you, Stephanie; so free spirited, so..."

She cut across me; "Don't try to be like me, Verity; become yourself; let yourself be yourself."

"I don't know how," I replied.

She said nothing for a few moments, then seeming to change the subject she said, "Next Wednesday we're having a student afternoon. It's the usual thing, a thimble full of sherry and a couple of biscuits. It's the third year boys; why not come over and help me hand round the drinks and biscuits?"

I knew the routine too well. Each of the professors and lecturers made a point of inviting groups of their students for these afternoons once a year. Like most other social functions here they were extremely dull, with everyone sitting around not knowing what to say. I was sure that all concerned were glad when it was over.

I began to say, "I don't know, Stephanie, I might..."

"Now you're not going to say no, are you Verity. You wouldn't desert a friend in time of need, would you? Besides, you might enjoy it."

"Oh, all right," I said, feeling I couldn't leave Stephanie to her fate.

That seemed to bring conversation to a close, and I left for home.

Arriving there, and out of sheer curiosity, I went to the bottom of the back garden and looked at the door in the wall. Neither Ralph nor I had ever used it, and looking at it, it seemed as if it hadn't been used for decades. I tried the door and it wouldn't open, so I got a small crowbar from the tool shed and after a struggle managed to prize it open.

It looked out onto the piece of park land that apart from a couple of people walking along a footpath on the other side of the park seemed deserted. I completed the task by oiling the lock and hinges, and after a few test swings it opened without effort. Satisfied with my work I returned the crow bar and oil and went indoors.

It's amazing how we fool ourselves. If you'd asked my why I had gone to so much trouble over the door I might at the time have said, "Because it's a pity to have it there unable to be used." I can see now I was already fantasising a lover who would come to me through that door.

It was nearly a week before I was to attend the Wednesday gathering at Stephanie's house. I went through the normal activities of the faculty wives; attending the Sunday School Committee of College Church, and planning what food was to be served at the graduation ceremony at the end of the year. Stephanie was always there, winking at me rather wickedly as the arguments over minor matters raged back and forth.

Having discovered the royal road to orgasm via masturbation I engaged in this new found activity with some gusto, exploring my body and the possibilities of my sexuality. 

In the past I had often been irritable with Ralph. There had been times when even his kindness annoyed me. Now I found myself relaxed with him and accepting of his rather pernickety ways. I realised that it was his training and his work that often demanded somewhat nit picking analysis that had made him as he was, and now, feeling freed up by my sexual activity I found him somewhat endearing, and at the same time sad that he could not really enjoy his sensual self.

With the memory of the boring annual gatherings of students at our house, I was not looking forward to assisting Stephanie with hers. I could not really understand why she had bothered to ask me as there was so little to do. One small glass of sherry and a couple of biscuits was the ration and that didn't take much doling out. Nevertheless I'd said I'd go, so go I would.

I arrived a few minutes before the students were due to arrive. The meagre fare was all laid out. Boris was wearing his somewhat superior lecturer's face, as if ready to fend off any questions that might touch too closely on the personal. Stephanie had a sly twinkle in her eyes.

The students started to arrive and they too wore Sunday faces that said, "I'm ready for a bloody boring afternoon of polite nothings."

I recognised him as soon as he came in, the fair haired boy I had seen outside Stephanie's house. He was about the only one who had a cheerful aspect and I could see he had eyes only for Stephanie. I have used the term "boys," but more accurately, they were young men in their mid twenties who, having graduated from the university were doing a post grad. course in theology, mostly with a view to entering the ministry of the Church.

Seen around the campus they were seemed a lively bunch, but here, at the afternoon gathering, it was as if they were under some sort of constraint. The fair haired young man had arrived with another dark haired young man, and I was introduced to them; fair hair was Rex and dark hair was Peter. 

Going with Stephanie to do something in the kitchen she joking said, "Keep your eyes off Rex, he's mine, Peter is yours."

I was carrying a tray of glasses and nearly dropped it. "W-w-what do you mean?" I stammered.

Stephanie laughed and said, "You don't suppose I asked to here just so you could help with the washing up, did you? I want you and Peter to get to know each other."

"What for?"

"Darling, you really can be a simpleton at times. Poor Peter is one of those boys who eats you with his eyes every time he sees you. You must have noticed him."

"Yes, I've seen him around campus."

"Well, Rex tells me Peter can't stop talking about you. He manages to infiltrate you into every conversation, a sure sign he's really smitten. Do you like him?"

"He looks very nice, but I've hardly said a word to him."

"Then go and say a word to him."

"I wouldn't know what it say."

"Of for goodness sake Verity, tell him what nice weather we're having, ask him what subjects he's studying or how his parents are; just get talking and the rest will happen quite naturally."

"What will happen?"

"Whatever you want to happen; he's three quarters of the way there already."

"Three quarters of the way where?"

"Three quarters of the way to getting you into bed with him darling, where do you think?"

"Stephanie, you're trying to make me..."

"I'm not trying to make you do anything, Verity. You've got a wretched sex life; you've learned something about what it could be like; I've just provided you with an opportunity to experience sex with someone who's gasping for you. You make up your own mind what you want to do, but if you pass up the opportunity don't come complaining to me about being deprived or frustrated. Now just go and make conversation with him."

I was shaking all over as I re-entered the lounge. I was half-a- mind to make a run for home, but Peter came over to me smiling.

"They've got a beautiful garden, haven't they," he said.

"Er...yes, they have."

"Shall we go out and have a look at it?"

"If you like."

There was desultory conversation going on around the room with Boris rumbling away about some knotty problem of exegesis. I don't think any one paid attention to us as we slipped out of the French windows into the garden, except Stephanie and Rex who were talking in one corner of the room as they watched us.

We wandered round the garden for a while commenting about the flowers and shrubs. Then Peter said, "I've often seen you on campus."

"Have you?"

"Yes, have you noticed me?"

"Yes, I think so. You've never been to one of my husband's student afternoons, have you?"

"No, I'm not doing his subject until my final year, but I wish had been to one of his afternoons."

"Oh, why?"

"So I could be near you."

"You mustn't say things like that to me."

"Why not, it's the truth."

My mouth was dry and it felt as if there was a lump in my throat and my legs seemed to be having difficulty supporting me. "Why would you want to be near me?"

I thought I could see Peter's hands shaking and for a moment he hesitated, then in a rush said, "Because you're very beautiful."

"Don't be so silly, I'm not in the least beautiful," I gasped.

"You are, you know, all the guys think so."

We came to a garden seat and I asked, "Do you mind if I sit down?" Without waiting for his reply I sat, relieved to take the weight off my shaking legs.

He sat beside me saying nothing for a minute or two, and then said, "You don't mind me telling you you're beautiful, do you?"

"No...no...it's very flattering."

"I've wanted to be with you...talk to you for a long time."

"Have you."

"But I didn't think I'd ever have the chance until Rex said...er..."

"Said what?"

"Oh...that you'd be here this afternoon and that you might...might like me."

"Did he?"

"Well....yes...but if..."

I summoned up my courage and said, "I think you're very nice, Peter."

He looked relieved but neither of us seemed to know how to go on. After several minutes of silence I said, "Shall we go back inside?"

He looked a bit like a puppy that had just had its meal taken away from it. "If you really want to, but I'd rather sit here with you."

"All right, if that's what you'd like."

"We don't have to talk unless we want to."

So we sat silent, listening to the birds and the wind rustling the leaves. I was intensely aware of Peter sitting near me, and I felt a tingling sensation in my vagina. I knew what he wanted to do with me and I was beginning to feel that I wanted to do it with him, but neither of us seemed to know how to take the next step.

After a while Stephanie and Rex came wandering towards us and Stephanie said, "Come on you two, come inside and be comfortable, every one has gone and Boris is off to a faculty meeting."

We rose and followed them into the house. Boris had gone and the remains of the afternoons "festivities" had been cleared away.

"You two make yourselves comfortable," Stephanie said, "Rex and I will be back shortly."

Hand in hand she and Rex left the room.

"I wonder where they're going." I said.

Peter smiled but said nothing. 

The lounge door had been left open and after a few minutes I could hear the murmur of voice coming faintly from upstairs; Then voices grew louder but the words were indistinguishable, then there was a sudden outcry followed by more murmuring. 

I knew what those sounds meant and they seemed to vibrate through me. Stephanie and Peter were making love. I pictured them embracing each other and felt myself growing wet between the thighs. I was shaking again and I could see Peter's hands trembling.

We sat saying nothing, each of us locked in our own thoughts and desires, but unable to do anything about them. 

Stephanie and Rex came into the room hand in hand. They looked dreamy and Stephanie's face was flushed. 

"It's time for you boys to go," Stephanie said. Peter sighed as he rose, then he turned to me and said softly, "I hope we can be together again soon."

"Yes," was all I could manage to say.

When they had gone Stephanie turned to me and said, "Sorry about that, Stephanie, but Rex and I have to take every opportunity we can; we really do need each other; how about you and Peter?"

I felt a sense of desolation; my whole body was crying out to be loved – ready for the consummation of desire, and nothing had happened. I even felt a little angry with Stephanie for setting up the situation that had led me to become so worked up, so I snapped at her, "What about me and Peter?"

"Well, did you like him?"

My anger overflowed; "You knew bloody well I'd like him, and what with you and Rex copulating upstairs and Peter and me sitting shaking on the divan...do you realise what a state that boy has left me in?"

"Now don't you start blaming Peter, Verity. Did he kiss you? Did he hold your hand? Did he touch you?"

"No."

"Did you touch him?" "No."

"Why not?"

"Well, I suppose we...we're shy...we don't know each other properly."

"I'll tell you why he didn't touch you, Verity. You're a professor's wife and he's a student He needs some sign from you that you want him; something that will break down that academic barrier, so do something about it if you want him."

"I can't, he's not here; and I wouldn't know what to do anyway."

She rolled her eyes heavenward with exasperation. "Touch his hand or something; he'll get the message and do the rest...or most of it. Come and see me tomorrow morning about ten and we'll talk again, but go now because I've got to remove some of Rex."

I didn't know what she meant by "remove some of Rex," but I left anyway, making my way back to the house feeling drained and weak, but still in a state of arousal with wet thighs and a dull ache in my groin.

I slept badly that night, lying awake thinking about Peter, and when I did sleep, dreaming of him making love with me but never actually penetrating. Demons and angels seemed to be fighting a battle over me; the angels admonishing me to remain "pure" and threatening me with eternal damnation if I didn't; the demons telling me that all would be well and to go ahead and be "fulfilled."

I turned on a bright face that I did not feel inside while having breakfast with Ralph. He seemed disgruntled and muttered something about my being so restless during the night. Then he was gone and I had over an hour to wait before I was due at Stephanie's for our talk.

I dragged out the clearing up and made a desultory attempt at some housework, but visions of Peter kept exploding in my head. Nothing seemed to go right and I cursed Stephanie and the book that had started me on the road to sexual restlessness and frustration. "Damn those female mystics and their bloody sensual relationships with God; why couldn't they keep their mystical experiences to themselves instead of writing them for people like me to read?"

Since I'd been told to arrive at Stephanie's by ten I didn't bother to telephone, assuming that she and Rex would not be engaged in sexual activities. 

She opened the door to me, her face wreathed in smiles, and I burst out, "I've had a terrible night."

"Have you darling, and why do you think that is?"

"You know damn well why," I snarled.

"Yes, I suppose I do. That's how I was when I first saw Rex and before we started to make love. Have you made up your mind about Peter?"

"Yes...no...I don't know."

She sighed and said, "You are in a state aren't you, and you'll go on being in a state until you've made up your mind one way or the other."

"I'll avoid him," I snapped angrily, "If I see him coming towards me I'll ignore him...I...just won't see him again."

"Yesterday you told him you hoped you would see him again."

"I was just being polite."

"Verity, if you must lie to everybody else, at least don't lie to yourself."

It was all too much, and I burst into tears. "I don't know what I want...don't know what to do...can't you help me?"

"I am darling," she said quietly.

Almost before she got the words out there was a tap on the glass of the French windows. I looked up and saw Rex and Peter standing there. Stephanie beckoned them to come in. Rex took her in his arms and in front of Peter and me he kissed her as if he would eat her, and I saw her almost melt into him. When they stopped kissing Stephanie whispered something to Peter and she and Rex left the room hand in hand.

Peter came and sat beside me on the divan and said, "Stephanie said you've been crying, what's wrong?"

That I had been crying was obvious, but how was I to tell him what was wrong?

He was very close and he went on, "Stephanie told me to try and comfort you." His arm went round my shoulders in a hesitant sort of way and I let it stay there. 

"I've been feeling upset...strange lately...not....not my usually self."

His arm round me felt nice so I leaned against him and felt his other arm embrace me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

"I don't know what to say," I replied in a hoarse voice.

He was warm and comfortable and I snuggled against him, partly so he would not see my face, and partly because I was enjoying myself in a frustrating way.

I was lubricating and I knew my nipples had grown firm. He had made the initial move and I knew what I wanted, but should I make the next move? I felt so stupid and inexperienced that I wasn't sure what the next move would be even if I decided to make one. 

I wanted him to kiss me like Rex had kissed Stephanie; I wanted to melt into him as Stephanie had melted into Rex. From upstairs I heard the murmuring of Stephanie and Rex again and knew what was happening. 




The Spear of Flame



Instinctively I drew Peter's hand to my breast and let it rest there. His fingers closed over it, softly pressing it through the cloth of my blouse. I tilted my face up to him and he bent over me and kissed me.

It was like no other kiss I had ever known. He parted my lips with his tongue and then thrust it into my mouth. All the long unacknowledged hunger came welling up and I was dragging my body against him. As we broke from the kiss I at last found the courage to speak of what I wanted.

"Make love with me, Peter," I whispered.

"Stephanie said we could use the guest bedroom," he said hoarsely, then taking me by the hand he drew me up and still holding my hand he led me upstairs. Stephanie's bedroom door was ajar I could hear more clearly what they were saying to each other. 

Rex was saying over and over, "I love you...I love you," and Stephanie was moaning, "I want you...I need you...don't stop...don't stop..." Then came the outcry just as I had heard it the day before, but this time the words were clear, "Oh God...Oh God..."

We were in the guest bedroom with its soft carpet and double bed. Peter kissed me again and began to remove my blouse. It was broad daylight and Ralph and I had never been naked in each other's presence. Even when copulating with me he had left his pyjamas on and had only lifted up my nightdress, and always we had been in the dark.

Suddenly, for all the intense desire I was feeling, I was reticent. "Don't Peter," I begged, "I'm shy, I've never been naked with a man please, can't we pull the curtains."

"It's all right," he said very tenderly, "I want to see you properly; why try to hide your beauty when I've wanted to see it for so long?"

My blouse was off and he was undoing my bra, and with his hands fondling my naked breasts I had no will to resist. 

"You have lovely breasts," he whispered, and bent to kiss a nipple. He lifted me up and carried me to the bed. There he removed my skirt and panties, and I was naked under his eyes.

I watched him as he undressed himself, thinking that perhaps I should have done that for him, but too uncertain to make the move. 

I thought he was gorgeous, with his lithe young body and his penis long and hard with the dark skin of its shaft and light purple head. I could see the glitter of a clear liquid oozing from the little slit in the head. Then he was beside me, kissing me, his hand fondling my naked breast. 

With Ralph there had never been any foreplay, and it was always as if he wanted to get it over as quickly as possible. With Peter there was no hurry, no struggle to pull on a condom like Ralph. I was ready and longing for him to enter me, but he lingered over me; kissing and sucking my nipples, letting his hand explore me and constantly telling me how lovely I was. 

Then his fingers touched and entered my vagina and I could not restrain myself any longer. "Please, come into me, you're driving me out of my mind."

I opened my legs wide to receive him, and then he was over me, the tip of his penis seeking my entrance. "Help me darling," he whispered. I took his penis into my hand, feeling its firmness and throbbing warmth, and guided him into me.

At the last moment, and before he had penetrated properly the angels of conscience seemed to prevail. "No...no...we mustn't," I cried, but it was too late. He had penetrated me and I had no more will to resist. I felt him deep inside me, and there he rested, looking down at me and saying, "I've wanted you for so long, Verity."

Then he was moving in me, slowly, as if relishing me, and I was lost. I gave myself up to him murmuring, "Take me, darling, have all of me."

It was coming, the terrible and the wonderful. I was wide open to him, surrendering myself to him. It started; the beautiful, wondrous yet fearful sensation. "No...no...no..." I cried. Then it overwhelm me and I was at its mercy, "Take me," I cried, and it came and I was whirling down into a deep pit of coloured lights, flashing and consuming me.

Someone cried out, "Oh God, yes...yes...yes..."

There was a hot spear piercing me and then a flood of fiery liquid filled me. I did not know of Peter or anyone except for the All Being. I was at one with time and space, the whole universe seemed to posses me and I heard some one screaming, "I am yours, all yours," then a voice inside me yet all around me said, "I freely give my love."

Then I was falling down to a world of peace and infinite tenderness. I was with Peter again and his eyes looked into mine.

"I love you, Verity," he said "I've loved you for so long."

"Always love me," I heard a voice say. It was mine.

I was in his arms, his penis still inside me, and I knew he was The One.

We lay for long time embracing, his manhood still not withdrawn from me; unlike Ralph who pulled out as soon as he had ejaculated.

"You're so lovely," he said, and I did not protest for I felt lovely; he had made me feel lovely.

Slowly he withdrew from me and lay beside me, his hand on my breast. I put my hand over my vagina and he saw my movement. "That is part of you inside me, Peter," I said, "and I want to keep it as long as possible."

He gave a gentle laugh and said, "There's lots more where that came from."

"Then put it in me," I replied, not expecting him to be able to so soon after he had ejaculated.

Then he was over me again seeking entry. I felt for his penis and found it to be erect. I was still recovering from the shattering orgasm I had experienced, so I lay there yielding to him, not expecting a further orgasm. I was wrong, but this time it was different. Instead of the enormous climax of the previous union I had a series of little orgasms. They came in quick succession, four or five of them, and whereas at the previous climax I seemed to become dissociated from Peter, this time I was intensely aware of him.

My vaginal tunnel was full of his sperm and my lubricant, and as he moved in me there were soft sucking sounds. With each little orgasm I cried out, "Peter...oh Peter," and as he ejaculated he groaned my name, "Verity...Verity" with every ejection of his sperm.

When he had finished he again stayed inside me and was softly kissing my face with butterfly wing touches. When he finally withdrew the melange of our fluids began to run out of me, soaking my thighs and the bed sheet. I wanted to stay in his embrace, but it became too uncomfortable.

"I'll have to go and clean up," I said, "and I don't know what Stephanie will say when she sees the mess we've made in the bed."

He grinned at me and said, "She's used to it; Rex is very potent."

I got off the bed feeling rather fragile but happy and made my way to the bathroom. Under the shower I regretfully removed the cocktail Peter and I had made in my vagina. This was yet another new experience since Ralph always used a condom. As I inserted my fingers into my vagina I could feel how loose and soft it was and was surprised at how difficult it was to remove the sperm that seemed to be reluctant to let go of me.

As I left the bathroom Stephanie, like my self naked, came out of her bedroom. She had a distant dreamy look on her face and seemed very relaxed.

She smiled and asked in a husky voice, "Was it good, darling?"

"It was wonderful," I replied.

"You're not cross with me for setting it up?"

"No, but you might be cross with me when you see the mess in the bed."

She laughed faintly and said, "You should see the bed after Rex and I have had a night together," then she passed on to enter the bathroom. I wondered if Peter and I would ever have a night together.

I entered the bedroom and Peter was lying stretched out on the bed. For a moment I stood looking at him; his firm young body and clear skin, and his penis now lying slack. 

"I'd better clean up myself," he said.

"You can't, Stephanie's in the bathroom."

He extended his arms to me and said, "Come here, darling, there's something I want to do to you."

Curious, I went to him and lay down beside him. He began by exploring my face with his fingers. It was rather like a blind person feeling out the contours of the face they cannot see. He went on down my neck and on to my breasts touching me very delicately. His hand moved to my stomach and hips. I made a move to touch him, but he said, "No, just lie still and let me."

His fingers were searching my vulva, parting its lips and then inserting a finger. Then he touched my clitoris and he even pressed a finger gently against my anus and then farther down to stroke my thighs. It was as if he was on a voyage of discovery, feeling every part of me, and it was breathtaking in its loving tenderness. Never in all my life had I been touched like this before. 

He had reached my feet then he gently parted my legs to expose my sex organ. I thought for a moment he was going to penetrate me again, but his head was between my legs his hands under my buttocks lifting them up. Then he kissed my genitals.

For a moment I wanted to push him away. I had smelt and tasted my fingers after masturbating, and while I did not find it unpleasant I feared he might. Before I could make a move I felt something soft and warm enter me. I raised my head to see, and realised Peter had pushed tongue into me.

As he moved it in and out of me I had no will or desire to stop him. If he found it unpleasant he certainly didn't show it because he started to lick me with increasing fervour. Suddenly he moved his tongue to my clitoris and I was lost in a mist of wonderful desire. 

Then it began; the little jarring twinges that presaged the coming orgasm. I instinctively knew it was going to be a big one and I feared it.

I cried out to him, "Peter don't...don't make me...I don't want to...please stop..."

But he didn't stop and it came rushing upon me. I felt as if I was falling down a long brightly lit tunnel that echoed to my cries of anguish and delight. I no longer felt Peter's tongue, only the throbbing vibrations that seemed to shake my whole body. As with my first orgasm with him I heard a voice crying out that was mine yet not mine; "Take me...take me...take all of me..."

Then the vibrations slowed and I was once more descending on a cloud of love to land softly on a plain of peace. I found that I had been holding Peter's head to me and as I released him his face came up covered with my lubricant.

"I'll see if Stephanie's finished in the bathroom he muttered," and left me.

Ten minutes later he returned and began to dress. "I have to go to lectures this afternoon," he said.

I didn't want him to go and was relieved when he asked, "When can I be with you again?"

We quickly went over days and times and I told him of the door in the garden wall. He kissed me very tenderly and left. I heard him leave with Rex, and I lay back wondering if it had really happened.

Stephanie, now dressed, came and sat on the bed beside me. She looked down at me as I lay there and giving a little laugh she said, "It's hard to believe it's happened when they're gone, isn't it?"

"Yes," I responded, "it was all too wonderful."

She laughed again and pointing to the mess on the bed said, "But the evidence is there, darling. Was it really wonderful?"

"Yes, it was Stephanie. I never knew it could be like that, even after reading the book. The terrible thing is I'm in love."

"What's so terrible about that?"

"What about Ralph?"

"Yes, I had the same trouble over Boris. It was so hard to get into bed with him after Rex, but it passed, and since he hardly ever troubles me for sex I've come to terms with it; you will too eventually."

"Don't you think we'll be punished one day for having so much pleasure?"

"Verity, you're sounding like a faculty cat again. Every time they catch themselves out enjoying something they think they must be sinning. When are you seeing Peter again?"

"Tomorrow afternoon; Ralph will be out and I told Peter to use the garden door. What about Rex?"

"In a couple of days, unfortunately; Boris will be at home all day tomorrow preparing his lectures. That's the trouble with these situations and I could do with Rex again right now.

I got off the bed and stood on slightly trembling legs. As I dressed a worrying thought came to me.

"Stephanie, you don't think the boys will talk about what we're doing, do you?"

"No, I don't think so; I've told Rex I'll murder him if ever tells anyone, but if they're getting what they want with us why should they do anything to spoil it? Of course, there's always the chance that someone gets suspicious; you know, they spot Rex or Peter calling on us, but that's a marginal risk so long as they use the garden doors."

"I hope you're right," I said, but there was still a worm of doubt.

"You know," giggled Stephanie, "I think the illicit nature of what we're doing adds spice to the relationship, don't you, especially doing it under the noses of the faculty cats."

I wasn't so sure about that and being at the stage of total infatuated with Peter, the pleasure of doing it under the noses of the faculty cats or anyone else had not occurred to me. Over a short period of time I had learned a great deal about my sexuality and the profound pleasure of love making and the only concern I had was that it should continue indefinitely. What we were doing might be illicit, but with Peter it seemed just right, and just right in a way I had never imagined before he came into my life.

I suppose for my age I must sound hopelessly ingenuous regarding sex, especially considering the amount of copulating that goes on these days among people years younger than me, but perhaps that was why the revelation of the power of sexual love had struck me with so much force.

That night it was even more difficult to be in bed with Ralph. I wanted Peter beside me, to feel his naked body pressed to mine and his hands exploring me in that delicate way he had. In the morning Ralph complained again about my disturbing his sleep, and very tentatively I suggested that we might sleep in separate beds.

To my surprise he took up this suggestion and extended it. "Well, darling, we're not in the first flush of marriage, and we've got four bedrooms, so why not sleep in separate rooms?"

I hid my delight at his suggestion and said I thought there might be some merit in the idea. I think in fact that this was a suggestion Ralph had wanted to make for some time and my recent night time restlessness had given him an excuse for making it. As for us not being in "the first flush of marriage," I wondered if I'd missed or forgotten something about our relationship since I could recall not a "first flush", if by that he meant some period of wild sexual indulgence. 

We talked around the subject for a bit, and eventually settled for Ralph moving into the guest room while I used our present bedroom. Considering what I had in mind either room would have served my purpose since the guest room – a room reserved for visiting lecturers and their spouses, if they had one – had a perfectly adequate double bed. Since the guest room would cease to be the guest room, a double bed had to be purchased for another of the bedrooms.

Thus sleeping arrangements were settled to both our satisfactions and, to get ahead of myself again, Ralph's infrequent approaches for sex became even more infrequent until almost reaching vanishing point.

Peter arrived at the appointed time next day and another time of exploration took place, but this time with me as the explorer. He had done such lovely things to me that I wanted to reciprocate. 

I emulated his approach, touching him as if I was a blind person but the most significant moment was when I arrived at his penis. The only times I had touched his or Ralph's penises had been to guide them into me; beyond that they were a bit of a mystery to me.

"What can I do to it?" I asked Peter.

He pointed out that the crown of his penis was a bit like my clitoris, very sensitive. He placed my fingers round his foreskin and said, "If you flip it over the crown it will produce very pleasurable sensations for me." With that he moved my hand to produce the desired effect.

Fairly quickly I went solo and, I fear, I got a trifle over enthusiastic. Too late Peter protested and suddenly sperm shot out of his urethra. "Don't stop," he yelped, and I had the pleasure of seeing his semen pumping fiercely out of him as he writhed under my ministrations.

When he had finished he said, "Sorry about that, darling, but I was close to the edge to start with, but give me a few minutes and I'll be all right again. He indicated that by "all right" he meant he would have another erection. He was as good as his word and that led to another lesson.

It had never occurred to me that sexual intercourse could be performed in any way other than with the man lying on top of the woman. What I learned was that the woman could sit astride the man and move on him. This had the double advantage of Peter being able to easily fondle both my breasts, and I would regulate the depth of his penetration, its pace and at the same time I could control the angle of penetration.

This brought on another shattering out in space orgasm that left me joyfully weak as I leaned limply over Peter when it was done.

"There are no words...no words..." I moaned. I was striving to tell Peter how exquisite it had been, but as I said, there were no adequate words to describe it. It was then that I realised that there was a third advantage to this position. I could keep Peter in me as long as I wished, and the mere fact of this physical union with him was a delight in itself. Now I understood properly what the bible meant when it talked of a man and a woman being "one flesh." I really felt as if we belonged like that. 

Before me and yet to be experienced were the delights of rear entry, especially when, after we had orgasmed and we remained united and fell asleep like that; and there was the experience of taking Peter's penis into my mouth and letting him ejaculate into it. I think the satisfaction in this was the knowledge I was giving him pleasure.

That was how it was between us, each wanting to give the other pleasure just as we desired to receive.

For two months we went on, coming together whenever we could. It was wonderful when Ralph went off for a week to the National Assembly of the Church and Peter spent every night with me, slipping away at dawn to his room in the college.

It was all so idyllic, perhaps too idyllic. If it was like being in the Garden of Eden, then it must be remembered, there is always a snake there. The snake struck and in a way its bite was sweet. I hurried to Stephanie's and broke the news.

"Stephanie, I think I'm pregnant."

"Oh my God, aren't you on the pill?"

"No."

"Verity, you idiot...if I'd known I'd never have...what are you going to do?"

"I've just told you, I'm going to have a baby."

"I know that, but what are you going to do about having a baby?"

"Have it of course."

"Hell's bells Verity, what has Peter got to say about it and...my God, what about Ralph when he finds out."

"I don't know, I haven't told them yet."

"Verity," she said decisively, "you've got to get rid of it."

"Have an abortion!"

"Yes."

"I will not. I'm going to have this baby, I want it."

"You're mad. It'll all come out, what you and Peter have been doing, it's bound to, and the faculty cats will have a wonderful time running you off campus. You're surely not going to try and pass it off as Ralph's, are you. You told me yourself he always uses a condom – I know condoms fail sometimes - but I don't think you'll get away with that."

She had made me angry and I snapped at her, "I've no intention of trying to get away with it. Probably it will mean the end of our marriage, but I'm not sure that it would be a bad thing. He only wants me for domestic reasons and I need more than that."




The Spear of Flame



"Well, how the hell are you going to live? Even if they let Peter stay on to finish the course he won't be able to keep you and the baby. And what's more, they'll never ordain him."

"My parents left me a little money; not much but enough to get by on, and I don't have to tell anyone who the father is."

"What about Ralph's position here, have you thought about that?"

"Yes, of course I have. His wicked wife runs away from him so they'll all sympathise, I can clear off before the obvious becomes obvious."

Stephanie shrugged. "I wish I had your sort of courage," she said wistfully, "I know if I had I'd run off with Rex tomorrow, pregnant or not."

I felt sorry for her and putting my arms round her I said, "You'll find the courage if you really love Rex, but don't go and get pregnant if you really don't want a baby with him."

"I do," she said, "but..." A tear rolled down her cheek.

Peter was due to arrive so I could not stay. "I've got to go, Stephanie," I said, "and don't worry about me; I can take care of myself now. Since meeting Peter I've learned a lot about life and living."

I kissed her on the cheek and added, "Whatever happens I'll always be grateful to you for bringing Peter into my life."

Almost as soon as I got indoors Peter was tapping on the French windows. I had spoken bravely with Stephanie, but I was not at all sure how Peter was going to take the news and my nerves were on edge.

I let him in, and as was his habit, he took me in his arms and kissed me passionately. After that we usually headed straight for the bedroom but now I said, "Let's sit on the divan for a while, I've got something to tell you."

We sat and he said, "You're pregnant."

"That flattened me for a moment and I stammered out, "H-h-how d-d-do you know?"

He smiled and said, "Well, it had to happen some time, didn't it." 

"But I might have been on the pill."

He smiled again; "You might have been, but you let slip one night when Ralph was away that he always uses a condom, and you've said enough to indicate that anyway he hardly ever comes near you, especially now you sleep in separate rooms. So I decided that you weren't on the pill."

"And yet you still made love with me!"

"Yes, and I suppose that might have been irresponsible, but I wanted you so much."

"Then you don't mind that I'm pregnant?"

"Yes and no; in one way I'm delighted and honoured that you chose to have a baby with me, but I do mind that I won't be in any position to keep you financially."

"Never mind about that, Peter, I've got my own plans and I shall be able to manage."

"Do your plans include me?"

"Only if you want them to."

"I do want them to, but what are you going to do?"

"For the moment I don't want to say anything about that, but you want me to have this baby and haven't mentioned an abortion and that makes me very happy. Keep coming to see me and let me do what I believe I have to do. When we first came together I was little more than a child where love and sex was concerned. I've grown up very quickly since then and can handle this situation. Now take me upstairs and make passionate love with me."

I waited a few days before I fronted Ralph. When I did I'm not sure I handled it very well. I was very forthright and confronting.

He was working in his study and I went in and said I had something to say to him. He looked up, no doubt anticipating some minor domestic matter. I sat in the chair beside his desk and began.

"Right from the start of our marriage, Ralph, our sex life has been, to say the least, unsatisfactory. Now it is almost non-existent. I think we both married for the wrong reasons and I think the time has come to end our marriage."

He looked stunned for a moment, and then said, "But I thought you were quite contented, and you've been so happy lately."

"I think you might have been contented, Ralph, but I certainly haven't been. It's not enough for me to be your domestic servant, cook and entertainer of your dull and pretentious colleagues. This is not the life for me, and although I'm grateful for your kindness, I can't go on any longer in this relationship. As a marriage it has become a complete farce and I can't and won't go on in it."

I'm not sure what I expected from him, but I got the feeling that there was a sign of some relief in his eyes. That he had affection for me I did not doubt, but it was not an affection that wanted me around the place except in the domestic role. Surprisingly he made no mention of my spoiling his career, and simply asked, "How will you live," as if accepting the fact that I was going.

I felt a bit put out that he did not protest and ask me to stay, but at the same time I was relieved that it had been so easy. I told him of my plans to live on what my parents had left me plus what I might earn when I got some work. I made no mention of being pregnant, not so much because I was afraid to mention it, but if he didn't know it would be seen around campus as a wife simply was leaving her husband, thus allowing his colleagues and the campus cats to sympathise with him.

More was said in this conversation and afterwards, but at no time did Ralph come out and say, "I don't want you to go," nor did he give me any of the "Marriage is for life" talk. 

The seemingly casual way he took the situation had me somewhat bewildered since I'd geared myself up for a right royal argument and recriminations. In the end I had to face the fact that he was not sorry I was leaving and that I had been an appendage to his life that he did not want.

The following weeks I saw less of Peter than usual as I was often out house or flat seeking. I finally found a place the rent which I could afford and there followed the packing of my personal belongings and some pieces of furniture that I had retained after the death of my parents. These, plus a few purchases were to be my new environment.

The cottage that I was renting was further away from Peter than I liked, but he bravely peddled his bicycle to see me several times a week. 

He brought news from the campus and as I had conjectured, all sympathy was on the side of Ralph and I had been consigned to hell fires for all eternity. No one knew of my pregnancy apart from Peter, Stephanie and Rex, and they had said nothing about it.

Ralph had made a few initial enquires after I moved out, telephoning to ask if I was all right, but after a while they ceased.

I gave birth to a boy whom Peter and I decided to name John Peter. I wanted Peter present at the birth but at that time only husbands were allowed this. 

As the law allowed a couple to divorce after one year's irretrievable breakdown in the marriage, I began proceedings as soon as possible. Six months later Peter arrived bearing momentous news. Ralph had remarried; she was a rather plain nurse who was fitting in nicely with the campus cats, and Ralph seemed very happy.

There only remained to settle the situation with Peter and me. His course was drawing near to the end and he decided he would not proceed to ordination, but would go on to teach a course that had only recently been entered into the high school curriculum, and oddly, it was the very subject I had been studying when I met Ralph, Comparative Religion.

I had not pressed Peter to marry me but he had been very insistent. His parents were a bit of a worry as we thought they might object to him marrying a woman who had been married before and had a child. We made no mention of Peter being the father, but there was a moment of anxiety when his mother, on seeing John, commented, "Its odd, but he does look like you Peter;" but the moment passed and it seemed that I was accepted as a suitable wife for Peter. The matter was clinched with mother when I eventually gave birth to a daughter.

Stephanie finally fled with her beloved Rex but how they fared I don't know since I have lost all contact with them.

Perhaps you are curious about my on-going sex life with Peter. Well, we eventually calmed down, but he is still capable of raising me to the heights when we make love. It has never become a routine matter since neither of us knows when the other is going to initiate the event and if our copulating is a bit less noisy these days, it's because we don't want to wake the children. Perhaps we should get ourselves a soundproof room.

At the moment I am expecting our third child, and after that I shall probably go on the pill, but I shall still cry out, "Take me and use me all my days."