The sunlight almost blinded her as she sat up and gazed excitedly at her rifle. She knew today was the day that she would become a true adventurer. She swung her legs round and off the edge of the rusted bed before standing up. As she put her boots on, she grabbed her rucksack and rifle before heading outside. The village was bursting into life in the morning sun as Abigail stepped out onto the road. Local merchants bellowed their offers to the inhabitants and the general commotion of buyers were swiftly answering. Abigail watched as the crowds of people gathered around the small tables that were used for products and smiled because she knew she was going to see a much bigger and better market elsewhere. She paused for a brief moment, watching them before scurrying towards the gates. Clutching her rifle tightly, she took one last glimpse of her wholesome village before setting foot outside of the gates for the first time. She looked around for a brief moment, gathering her bearings. We made love ... slow, passionate, satisfying, spiritual sex. Considering our previous experiences that night, I lasted for well over an hour. We moved together; each of us in a dance keeping perfect rhythm. I moved on top of Jane. Her sheath was warm, slick, inviting. There were no earth-shattering screams of orgasmic ecstasy ... just a series of shuddering quakes that seemed to spring up from somewhere deep inside the core of her voluptuous, miniature frame. We didn't speak. More often than not, a good portion of every breath I took was air that had just been expelled from her lungs and vice versa. And those eyes ... I really did lose myself in those deep emerald eyes of hers. It felt like my essence spilled out of my body through my eyes and into hers. For a moment or two, there was no discernable Paul or Jane ... just one moving, writhing, completely blissful being.When we finished, I lay there on my back. Jane on her side under my arm with one leg thrown over me, snoring quietly.
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