The Sacrifice and the Scholar

They moaned and sighed in unison as he drove himself back and forth inside her, As his tempo increased, they began to gasp in rapid, shallow breaths, beads of sweat forming on their backs, until he abruptly stopped and thrust himself as deeply into her as he could. He felt her sheath contract in waves rising up him from root to glans as his penis pulsed and erupted in jets of semen. And she felt the pulsing flow of the semen through his organ and felt his eruptions crash against the back of her vagina like storm waves against the rocks. He erupted again and again as her vagina spasmed and both their bodies shuddered and trembled until their orgasms ebbed and abated.

He slid his hands up her side, now, to her shoulders and lifted her up from the trunk to stand on her feet. With trembling steps and arm protectively and affectionately around her, he brought them to the pool to refresh and cleanse themselves in its cool waters. That night she slept in his shelter, on the moss beside his bed, and, during the night, his hand fell from the bed and brushed her cheek.

He spent the night in troubled sleep and arose in the morn knowing he must retreat to the woods and mountains to meditate. His mind was befuddled at his rage, his desires, his satisfactions, and he meant to clarify his understanding. He told her of his leaving, and she saw the confusion of remorse and pleasure in his eyes, and she understood his departure. And she stayed, awaiting his return and keeping their sylvan abode in repair.

After a fortnight he had still not resolved his confusion, still not reconciled his behaviour with his beliefs, and turned back towards his home. She had worried about him, gone for longer than ever before, and had resolved to begin to search for him at break of morn. As she prepared a light supper that night, he returned, silently taking a seat at the edge of the fire. He sat for a moment as she saw the perplexity in his eyes, and then attempted to speak.

She rose and placed her finger on his lips to silence him. She laid a fresh hazel wand in his hand, thin and supple, and then turned to kneel beside the fire. She leaned forward, her face to the ground, lifting her skirt to her waist, and he gazed at the softness of her flesh. He felt aroused, but not enraged, and he rose as he drew the smooth wood across his hand. And he understood that which she had always known.