An Urgent Departure

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He looked at her. "I love you, you know." 

"Those are still three difficult words for you, aren't they, Doug?"

"Yeah. I'm an action guy. Talking isn't always easy for me."

"Then let's get some action going."

He kissed her again.

She shivered a little, "It's cold here."

"Yeah. I'm not a fan of the cold. This is nothing like Ganymede."

"Here, let's warm up," she said.

"You've gotten a lot more aggressive. I like it."

"Well, when you and I originally got together, I didn't have experience," she said, "Now I do. Ah, I see you're thinking about starting."

"I am thinking about starting, and doing, and especially finishing," he said, nibbling her ear.

He began to kiss her deeply.

"Huh? I thought we were making a baby," she said, "Shouldn't you position yourself, uh, guarantee that?"

"This will definitely work. Trust me," he breathed. He grabbed their discarded clothes and put them behind her back, "Nice and slow."

She kissed him back and leaned to the side, "I want you."

"Be patient," he said, "It's worth it," he kissed her.

"C'mon," she breathed, "Do it."

He just kept kissing her and didn't respond to her entreaties. Finally, it was too much for him, and he let go.

"Holy cow. Do that again," she said.

"It's not possible – not for a few days – for me to go quite like that. But I can do the whole conventional thing," he said, "Keep kissing, and pulsing, and moving just like that, and we can get going the usual way."

"Oh, like that, eh? I think I can be persuaded," she said, "The usual way is quite wonderful, too, Doug."


It was one of those times together when you cannot be apart for more than a few moments.

They stayed in bed, mostly, only getting up for necessities. They mainly stayed naked, and the hotel room was warm and comfortable, albeit a bit spartanly furnished. The only time they actually put on clothes was to accept Room Service. Then they would, once the door was closed again, shed robes and eat together. They usually kept physical contact as well – no mean feat as they were both right-handed. Sometimes it was difficult to wield a fork while holding hands. Half the time, they just dipped their fingers into the food and fed each other. There was very little talking, for you don't talk while kissing. And there was a lot of kissing.

Finally, on the fourth of February – after three days of almost continual contact – Malcolm said, "May I take you to supper?"

"Sure," she said, smiling, "I take it you mean to actually leave this room."

"Yes," he said. They stood in front of the window, naked, except for a dull metallic grey cuff on Malcolm's left hand and Lili's wedding ring on hers, with a matching thin chain around her neck, looking out at Fep City below. There was all manner of construction going on, with high rises going up all around the hotel, "Take you downstairs – not too far from our, ahem, home base of operations, and we can eat with knives and forks and get a chance to actually wear a bit of the clothing we both brought."

"All right," she said, "I know just what to wear."

"Terrific. Would you want to go walking 'round the city?"

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