He lay next to her and put the fingers of one hand across her
mouth. She kissed his fingers. He pushed up her skirt and reached
between her legs with his other hand. Her knees fell open, and her
mouth opened under his fingers. She tilted her pelvis, pushed against
his hand, and helped him to remove her warm underwear.
He took off his pants and put his fingers back on her mouth as he
lowered himself over her. As he slid into her, she took the heel of his
hand between her teeth. When he withdrew, she bit harder. He came in
deeper, and she lifted against him. Her arms were flung out wide, palms
up. He was cradled in her hips. With each stroke, he felt the ground
beneath her, felt closer and closer to home. Suzanne strained up,
jerked twice convulsively, and sent a clear cry across the field. She
wrapped him with both arms and urged him, helped him through the door.
He fell headfirst, grateful, filling her as he fell, filling her for
good and all.
He lay collapsed and quiet while his breathing straightened out.
Suzanne giggled. "What?" he mumbled.
"I'm hot on top and getting cold below," she said.
He pictured them from above. "Ummm," he said, "spy satellites .
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