She felt his naked flesh against her as he came into her. For a moment he was still inside her, turgid there and quivering. Then as he began to move, in the sudden helpless orgasm, there awoke in her new strange thrills rippling inside her. Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite, exquisite and melting her all molten inside. It was like bells rippling up and up to a culmination. She lay unconscious of the wild little cries she uttered at the last. But it was over too soon, too soon, and she could no longer force her own conclusion with her own activity. This was different, different. She could do nothing …
She turned and looked at him.
`We came off together that time,’ he said.
She did not answer.
`It’s good when it’s like that. Most folks live their lives through and they never know it,’ he said, speaking rather dreamily.
She looked into his brooding face …
It made her feel she was very different from her old self and as if she was sinking deep, deep to the centre of all womanhood and the sleep of creation. It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration. She knew she had always feared it, for it left her helpless; she feared it still, lest if she adored him too much, then she would lose herself become effaced, and she did not want to be effaced, a slave, like a savage woman.
From “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” by D.H. Lawrence
Lady Chatterley had lovers before and after her marriage to her paraplegic husband—several suitors who belonged to the same social class. She did not know her gamekeeper. He provided her with the sex and physical tenderness she lacked. They seldom exchanged a few words. Yet a synchronous orgasm made her fall head over heels for him: “It made her feel she was very different from her old self and as if she was sinking deep, deep to the centre of all womanhood and the sleep of creation. It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration.”
Is D. H. Lawrence correct? Can sex propel us into falling in love with someone? My goodness! Where is the human mind? It is just a lazy witness? Falling in love is an accident of nature. One must pray to God that when it happens, one does not suffer severe wounds.
P.S.: My last email featured a story entitled “An Angel for a Day.” I described my recent visit to the protagonists of my new book, “Afterlife Tracks.” If you have yet to subscribe to Our Circle of Friends, please go to www. theclassicwriter.com and join us. As a token of appreciation, you will be able to download “The Silver Teacup,” an exciting collection of short stories.
Warm regards,
Louis
