She was kind of like that, not knowing if I had said that in the heat of lust. Until one day she calls me in the chat all excited and in the middle of...the conversation lets one out:- You don't know me .. I'm a saint, but with a hollow stick, and I gooooosto a stick ..-But you already have my wow!-ah, yours is soooo yummy ..but I like to jump the fence from time to time to check the neighbor's grass and give a fuck with a different stick just for a little change. And this week I had a strong. And he remembered now, remembered what first love was, though Esfalan had never yet had a first love, never taken the elven lass to a shady bower, yet he remembered Tarulevie, her kisses, her downcast eyes peeking up through lashes, the sudden joy he felt when she had convinced him he had not misunderstood her meaning. Esfalan was shocked at some of the intimacies and yet there was no way to turn away.And still the flow of words went on. Some tales were of later years, some of earlier, no rhyme. More

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