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She looked up at him, as they encircled eachother with their arms. They stood there for a moment, holding eachother tightly, every inch of thier bodies pressed together. ‘Oh how long I’ve waited…’ She whispered and tilted her head back, lips parted slightly to receive his kiss. His hand gently held the back of her head while his lips touched hers. Their mouths opened, greeting eachother with their tongues–tasting slowly at first. Then, the tempo quickened as the passion they had experienced only in words and dreams came to full realization. His free hand slid down to grasp her buttocks firmly. She planted her hands behind his head, trying to deepen the kiss even more. He let a small moan escape from low in his throat as she frenched him harder, breathing heavily thru her nose. The long haired man placed both of his hands on her ass, enjoying his handfulls of soft flesh as he ground his hips against hers. She moaned this time, ending the powerful kiss suddenly. They gazed at eachother. Her face lit up and her sightless eyes looked in her direction with a disconcerting vacuousness. “Joy! Is that you?” she gasped. “It’s me. Sharon.” “Sharon? The tourist. Where’s Joy?” “Joy’s dead. There’s no more Joy.” “Dead. No Joy!” Sweetness weeped, but she’d clearly already half-reconciled herself to this possibility, not erupting into the hysteria of tears that Sharon had feared. “How did she die? What happened? Where am I?” Sharon explained to Sweetness as best she could what had happened and where they were. And rehearsed as much to herself as for Sweetness’ benefit the horrors they had been through. She talked and she talked, disjointedly, ramblingly, punctuated with questions of how Sweetness was, less from a need to know and more from a need to hear Sweetness reply through the globules of tears, mucus and blood in her mouth. Every now and then, Sweetness would interject with “Joy. Joy’s dead. She’s dead.” She was evidently trying to comprehend the enormity of her situation..
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