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He pulled Claire closer to him. They were laying down now. He sensed the immediate danger was over and began to relax. He could feel her sigh as her sobbing stopped and it felt like she was melting in his arms. He felt the strong connection and his energy level perked up. She arched towards him and her soft wonderful breasts pressed against his chest. She seemed to become a part of him just then, an extension of his being, of his whole. He gave her a delicate kiss on her cheeks and her lips moved over to find his and they kissed, lightly at first and then with more energy and compassion. Her skirts had worked themselves up her bare legs and Pierre could feel that she was naked underneath. Pierre very softly stroked the inside of her thigh and Claire uttered a sigh that filled Pierre with longing and desire. It was like they both realized that this would be their last day on earth and this would be the last opportunity they would have to embrace and kiss each other. The kiss was full and long. He heard Claire sigh and whisper. “Oh Pierre, my little Kisser, oh Pierre. Don’t ever let me go. Don’t ever let me go.”
Pierre and Claire lay together under the August sky sharing each other in lovemaking that reflected their love and compassion for each other. Being close to death had a way of adding life to their compassion that was hard to explain. Two unmarried persons from different worlds and cultures sharing intimate relations in those times was taboo, but what hold can cultural taboos have on two persons who did not know whether they would be alive another day. After all, there is no cultural controls that are more powerful than the fragility of life. As Pierre touched and caressed Claire in their passionate embrace, he no longer feared the consequences of his action. He only knew that he loved Claire and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, whether that was one day or many. For Claire, her willingness to make love to Pierre was her surrender to him in all aspects of her life. She was now his, and she could only hope that her assessment of Pierre as a wonderful loving companion was made with sound judgment.
Pierre and Claire fell asleep in each other’s arms around 2 in the morning after making love to each other for a good three hours. It was the most wonderful three hours in Pierre’s life, even though the tragedy of the day would stain his memory forever. He melded with Claire and also felt like he was one with the moon, the stars, the ocean, the grass, the rocks and the trees surrounding him. It was a feeling of exhileration that he had never felt before and maybe would never feel again. The sweetness of that three hours would forever equalize his painful memory with a wonderful one.