own.

"How delightful it is to be in your arms, dear Laura," I exclaimed.

"Do you really like it?" she replied, pressing me still closer to her.
At the same time our nightdresses became disarranged, and I felt her
naked thighs pressing against mine.

Laura kissed me again with even greater warmth than before, and while
she was thus engaged she slipped one of her soft hands in the opening
of my night-chemise, and I felt it descend on one of my breasts. When I
felt this, a trembling seized my limbs and I pressed her convulsively
to my heart.

"What a voluptuous girl you are, Kate," she said, molding my breasts
and titillating my nipples. "You set me on fire."

"I never felt so happy in my life, Laura. I could live and die in your
arms."

I now carried my hand to her globes of alabaster and pressed and molded
them, imitating her in all her actions. Nay, more, I turned down the
bedclothes and, unbuttoning her nightdress in front, I exposed those
charming, snowy hillocks to my delighted gaze. The light of the lamp
shone directly upon them, and I was never tired of admiring the
whiteness, firmness and splendid development of those glowing
semiglobes. I buried my face between them and pressed a thousand kisses
on the soft velvet surface.

"Why Kate, you are a perfect volcano," said Laura, trembling under my
embraces, "and I have been laboring under the delusion that you were an
icicle."

"I was an icicle, darling, but now I have been melted by your charms."

"What a happy man your husband will be," said Laura.

"Happy-why?"

"To enfold such a glorious creature as you in his embrace. If you take
so much delight with one of your own sex, what will you do when clasped
in a man's arms?"

"You are jesting, Laura. Do you suppose for a moment that I will ever
allow a man to kiss and embrace me as you do?"

"Certainly, my love--he will do a great deal more than I do."

"More? What can you mean?"

"Is it possible, Kate, that you do not know?"

"I really do not know. Do tell me, there's a dear girl."

"I can scarcely believe it possible that you are seventeen years of
age--a perfectly developed woman, and that you know nothing of the
mysteries of love. Are you not aware, darling, that you possess a jewel
about you that a man would give half his lifetime to ravish?"

"You speak in riddles, Laura. Where is this jewel?"

"Lie perfectly quiet, and I will show you where it is."

My cheeks burned and I was all aglow