"EIGHT WEEKS IN THE LIFE OF MICHELLE DEVEREAUX"
A Novel
by
Jeanne D'eau
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PROLOGUE: Nine Years Earlier...
Two girls...lying on a bed together...a summer night, with a full moon streaming through the open window...a cool breeze blowing through the curtains and the sound of crickets...
They lay on their sides, facing each other. The one - whose bedroom they were in - had her Italian grandfather's dark hair and eyes. Not a ravishing beauty by any means, but definitely pleasing to the eye.
The other was a beauty, by any definition - or surely would be when older. She had her grandmother's flaming red hair and her mother's sapphire blue eyes, with a porcelain complexion that burned easily if she weren't careful in the sun.
They had grown up together, these two...forming that special bond that girls often have.
Except that now, they were no longer girls. Nor were they yet women...
Yet there are stirrings within both of them. Stirrings they did not yet fully understand...new feelings and sensations beckoning...a new,undiscovered country, awaiting exploration...
Slowly, tentatively, the expedition gets underway with a tender embrace...lips gently coming together...whispered declarations of love...lips touching lips again...and again...
Soon, lips are parted...shyly at first, then more boldly, tongues meet, caressing each other...tasting each other...exploring the warm, soft wetness of welcoming mouths, sealed together to form a secret cavern of delight and increasing desire where tongues make love to each other like probing snakes in the darkness...
Slowly, clothing falls away...bare skin touching bare skin, hands caressing, arms encircling warm bodies, legs entwining...molten centers of desire, creating heat with a grinding of hips, increasing in intensity...hands and fingers sliding in between as thighs separate, allowing them to work their pleasuring magic...
Their bodies begin to move rhythmically together in a primitive, erotic dance... breaths become laboured as hearts begin pounding... faster...faster...
The pulsations begin...slowly, spreading from loins seething with and ecstacy that spreads throughout their bodies as they explode together in exquisite combustion...
It is over. The two of them go limp in each others' arms.
Two no-longer-girls, now having taken their largest step toward womanhood...
Whispers now, as they drift toward sleep in the moonlight:
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Arms still wrapped around each others' nakedness, they drift away together into Morpheus' peaceful embrace.