I was laying out, in a large open field. I was laying out, in the late afternoon, a summer's day, letting the rain wash its purity over me. I was laying out.

And then She was there, wet on top of me, her face covered in (almost) dew, my arms around her ski sloping taut waist, my hands resting on her ascending ...

"As it turns out, I did come here with a question ... ".

(no response - nothing)

Time passed. "... so ... you never struck me as a man prone to false advertising", she said, her cheek on my chest, her voice into my bicep.

"Ha."

" ... but you would agree that some might be coming here to see more of Me, perhaps more than your own thoughts? Does that appear rational to you?"

( nothing )

" ... and your answer, or do I need to ask you to move your hands?"

"The Mute steals no limelight."

She wiggled. "Oh shut up."

"Was trying."

"Well keep at it."

"Yes, Your Babeness ."

Somehow, she oozed closer. "You take many liberties, for a mortal."

(nothing)

Another wiggle.

"Silentium est rutilus."

"Oh shut up."

(nothing)

"And I'm not Venus."

(pause)

"She's a slut."


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