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The Way of Jayne, Part 7

His darkened steel eyes caught and held her own jade green in locked question and answer. His query got a sure reply when she closed her eyes and exhaled strongly while moving into him just enough to tell him what he needed to know. Even at 14 years old, inexperienced in what men and women wanted from each other, he easily read in Maeve her desire to give and take, to go further into him, into his desires and hers.

Jayne’s large hands went to her shoulders where he eased the robe off her till it caught on her large firm breasts. Brow furrowed in frustration at the hitch, he remembered the tied belt and took his fingers there to free her body from the garment. Making quick work of the tie, he spread the pretty material open and looked his fill at her naked firelit torso there in Maeve’s sitting room.

“Gods, Maeve, you’re ruttin’ beautiful,” he breathed, his pupils enlarging in pleasure, his mouth going suddenly dry with ratcheting want.

She smiled and blushed the slightest bit at the smoky voice of the man at whose legs she knelt, smiled wider at the fully grown man’s look on his swai face. Reaching a hand up to trace his jawline she continued the gesture to the back of his head, drawing him down to her bosom.

Jayne had no reason to struggle, not when she was taking him where his eyes and mouth wanted to go.

On contact he rubbed his shaven cheek along the valley between her breasts before sliding back up to breathe on one nipple already tightly ruched in expectation of his caress. He’d never seen one this close-up before but didn’t feel inclined for looking so much as tasting, so he did.

When his warm mouth touched her sensitive tip, then opened wider to tug on her there, Maeve moaned and inhaled sharp and sudden-like, then pushed out toward his mouth as if she wanted to force herself entirely into the heat and play of his lips and tongue.

She looked down at the otter-brown head fixed to her body, her face a canvas of frustration and desire, her mouth open, breath coming fast. ‘Slow down, girl, ease back a mite,’ she chided herself mentally. ‘Got all the time in the world, a storm outside to keep us in and the rest of humanity out.’

Jayne took both hands to stroke and hold the breast not being ministered to by his lips and tongue. Touching it tentatively at first, he went from light pressure, almost prodding the flesh, testing it, to heavy-handed mauling. He didn’t know what she’d like, never knew it’d feel like this nor that he’d find himself not really caring how she felt, completely wrapped up in exploring the new terrain so different from his own.

Maeve yelped a little at the rough treatment and slid sideways a few inches away from him once his hands loosened a little at her upset.

“Jayne, mmmm, your mouth on me, it’s so good, but your grip, it’s like you’re branding cattle,” she chided, her hands cupping the offended breast, soothing away the hurt.

He mumbled an “I’m sorry,” looking away, pretending to be absorbed in the banked fire playing behind her. After a moment he replied, “Show me how, tell me what to do, I don’t know. But I want to.”

He looked back into her eyes, took her hands down from their place on her breast, replaced them with one of his own, gentle and considering.

“You believe me, believe that I want to know what you want, what feels good to you?” And he realized he did, knew he meant every word. That he had the capacity in him to tamp down his want, let his mind rule his body long enough for this woman to teach him what she liked. He had a foreshadowing that what she taught him would last his whole life, would benefit both himself and a legion of females in his bed if he learned his lessons well.

She peeled back the blanket over his lap and nudged his inner thighs apart a bit more. Taking her hand to his crotch where he rested on the edge of the chair, she cupped his balls as he reared back a tetch in reaction.

“A woman’s breasts are tender, Love. Like these are, almost as delicate as you are here. What you like to happen down there, it’s likely a lass wants the same, or similar enough on her breasts.” She squeezed him slowly till the wincing look on his face told her it was enough.

Letting up but still holding him loosely cupped in her palm, she instructed, “I’m taking the edge of my palm up to just behind where your testicles attach to your body,” she suited words to action.

“Take your hand now, Jayne and cup my breast just like I’m holding you, that’s right, just like that.” To further aid his instruction, she used her other hand to take the edge of his hand, set it flush against her ribcage under the softness of her jutting left breast, cupping his finger up and all along it.

She gasped as his calloused thumb instinctively slid upwards over the rise of her and began rhythmically sliding back and forth over the turgid nipple. His eyes flicked from the point of her back up to her face to take careful note of her reaction. Jayne was a man who had learned to take notes from folks’ signs, from things unsaid.

Just then she was sayin’ he had found the way of this. That her breast in his hand, her nipple sliding away and back under his seeking thumb was better than good. He slowly took his hand down and watched her face, noted her mouth open in want as she saw his head lowering to the place his thumb had left bare.

He bent his head to her nipple seeking her eyes all the while until his own closed as he suckled her. Trusted his hearing to catch the moans from her chest under where he pulled on her hard, then laved the point softly with a tongue velvet and light. His hand took hold of the other breast where it jutted from her torso so as to not leave it lonely.

There was power in this thing, he thought. Power lovely and hot, pounding in his heartbeat and hers. Blood and force filled him, concentrated in him low. And in her too, he figured, taking his other hand down and down the front of her, low and lower into the heat of her at thighs’ juncture.

Maeve quivered where Jayne’s hand rested on her lower body. She felt him nudge her there, questing for access but she resisted. She took a moment to analyze why she stayed him. Why go this far and yet contemplate nothing further?

She drew back from his mouth on her breast, his hand at her crotch, wanting to look at him fully, to see what—where this oughta go. His lips pulled away from her and he uttered a guttural, “No,” at her resistance, at her leaving him.

Tucking her robe lightly around herself, Maeve stood up, heedless of Jayne’s seeking hands brushing against her hips in an attempt to bring her back. He slumped into the chair, laid his head against the back watching his erstwhile educator slip away from him into the chair across the room.

They simply looked at one another for a time, him not bothering to re-cloak his nudity, warmed plenty by the fire in the hearth and by this evening’s events with the female staring at him. She looked to be in distress, and well she should be, he thought. She oughta be feeling coiled up and ready as he was, but he could wait. Patient to a point, he decided to give her the time she seemed to need to decide their fate.

As long as she didn’t take too long. If she did, he had some things he was gonna try to help her make up her mind.

Maeve broke his hold on her eyes, looked away toward the kitchen, at the storm battering the windows. The young man’s libido was likewise battering against her better judgment. Hell, to be baldly truthful, her own desires were perfectly in line with his. What was the problem then? It had to happen sometime, virginity was something a person worried about their whole lives…until they didn’t. Simple as that.

She peeked into his mind for confirmation of just how much he might be worried about losing his virginity and gaining a taste of manhood’s power with an older woman who oughta know better. She did know better, actually, had much to show him about the better ways to know a woman. Things sweet and sexy, slow and hot, things that’d make his life’s women owe her a debt of gratitude.

With that thought on her mind, she looked back into his darkened blue eyes across from her and stared past them into the surface of his thoughts.

Jayne was wanting. His store of patience wasn’t long for this world. She’d have to do something quick-like or he was gonna be on her and it was gonna be his way, goddamn whatever she wanted. She saw it in him, read it in his head. Hard and deep and fast and pounding, and she would ruttin’ LIKE it. She knew she would.

Reading him was a mistake. She swept up out of her chair and went straight to him, straddled his lap in the chair, urged him forward by her legs bending at the knee around his hips, her ankles securing around his back.

Jayne spoke her name, gratefully, urgently, his hands pulling her forward, his mouth seeking her soft throat, pressing kisses open-mouthed, wet and hard along her collarbone, her jaw as he stretched up to reach her better.

His big hands stroked down her back to cup her bottom, pushing his nethers up to her, one hand going there now that she was spread open to him, thighs wide apart on his lap. She keened when his fingers touched her, the slickness of her, in her, sliding out of her and onto his hand easing his explorations, his first time touching womanflesh.

“Christ, Maeve, you’re wet, but not like water. Like…sunwarm grease?,” he groaned, embarassed looking up at her face for validation. His look was a half-smile under heavy-lids not quite covering his swai blue gaze.

“Mm-hm, that’s a good way to put it,” she smiled down, shifting in his hand’s grasp as one long finger slid down her cleft aided by moisture, then back up to the cul-de-sac of her femininity happily exploring new terrain, mapping this place so different from himself.

“The wet is a woman’s way of getting ready for a man to penetrate her. If it was all dry down there, he’d need to get moisture from somewhere else for that. Some women are wetter than others, there’s things they can do to help with that,” she continued, although her mind wasn’t all that interested in continuing the science lessen, not when his hand had gone sideways to nestle straight along her lower lips that way.

“So you’re ready to be penetrated?,” he purred as his fingers shifted, bent lower still, dragged down from a hard stub at the top of her, traced a slide in her body’s thick moisture stopped by an opening several inches down.

Jayne didn’t wait for her to answer seein’ as how she was sorta speechless. He just took his middle finger into her there, into the depression he’d found. It was easy to get in although tighter when he pulled back out and added another finger to push inside her. It didn’t feel much like there was room for his staff to fit in there. He worried at that, decided she’d know how to make it work.

Maeve wrapped her arms around his neck, took her mouth to the side where his shoulder met the cords of his neck and bit down, sucked hard, hissing against his skin. Lifting her mouth off in order to say something important, she began, “The first penetration, Jayne, the first time anything enters me there, it’s like…me being a virgin all over again.”

He heard her, nodded although he really didn’t understand, kept up the motion between her legs, his fingers gripped by her there, the rest of his hand outside her body stroking, cupping her, learning the differences between her and him.

“A man can take a woman with his fingers, tongue or penis. A woman can do that too with her fingers, hand or an object, even when she’s alone. But whatever it is, whenever it happens, Jayne, know this: For me; that first entry, every time, is almost as good as the ending, as where we’ll come to when we’re done. When this dance is over, what me and you are heading to, that’ll be something to remember, but the second your fingers went inside me--that was the next best thing.”

He slid out of her at that, perversely wanting to get to the other stuff, wanting everything all at once with this woman.

She pulled back when his fingers left her, raised up and off him, taking him by the hand as he stood leaving the blanket behind. Not happy with the unequal state of their dress, Jayne towered over his woman and slid her robe off and down to her feet, thoughtfully nudging it away from the hearth as it pooled on the floor.

He hissed and stepped back, turned her body to face the light of the flames the better to look his fill at her. She was magnificent, just as he expected she’d be. Full-bosomed, torso tapered to a waist he planned to take his mouth to. He saw himself tracing the path from her tits to the hips that curved wide and soft below. Her belly was rounded, a creamy and inviting low hill to be explored later.

She stood still, warmed by the look on his face, by the path his eyes traveled all over her, as much by that as by the fire at her side. As he studied her carefully, as his eyes bent to scan what he could see of her lower body, it was all Maeve could do not to step forward, mapping what her eyes saw.

The boy wasn’t a boy. She’d been wrong. Hell, he looked, he was, full grown. He’d probably been that way since he was 12. His organ stood high and full, the crown of him hiding his belly button.

Beneath his rearing manhood, Jayne’s scrotum was cinched up tight to his body, his balls showing they were ready, surprising to him since he’d ejaculated earlier at Naughty Zute’s.

Maeve sussed that he might be nigh ready to lose himself again if she didn’t get him to bed, try to slow things down a bit. ‘Nothing wrong with a man’s being eager, no way to avoid it when that man is Jayne,’ she smiled. Boy-man was high-toned and ready for action, had been ever since she’d gotten re-acquainted with him over a year ago.

As she took the step needed to reach his hand, he said, “Maeve, I want you bad, but I dunno ‘zactly how to do this right. Tell me what you want, what I’m supposed to do,” he asked, putting both hands around her waist, then one stealing down to outline her buttock before stopping where it met her upper thigh, cupping it much like his palm had cupped her breast before.

His statement was bald and needful, but the look he sent her was frankly erotic. He called to her with his words, his face, his form. And she gorram sure had an answer.

Maeve pulled Jayne close to her, right up against her standing there and held him stock still. Smoothing his hair back over his ear she murmured to him, “Come into the bedroom, Honey. We’ll slow it down a bit, take our time, neh?” She risked nipping at his jawline before continuing, “Lay down with me and we’ll do this right, do it slow or fast or however it seems needful between us.”

That said, she drew back, took his hand and walked with him unresisting to her bedroom sanctuary.

Maeve lit a red plum candle on her nightstand then nudged Thufir the wolfhound off the counterpane. The great gangly dog smiled at her and went, padding off to the fire where he liked it better anyway, snuffling at some sweet breadcrumbs Jayne had spilled near the chair.

Maeve closed the bedroom door, turned and leaned against it to look at her lover who stood in flickering candlelight, his hand on his cock.

“Sweet Buddha, Jayne, you are…the finest thing I’ve ever seen. And if I don’t get right up next to you soon, well—let’s just not have that be a problem. Come on, get into bed. Are you cold?” He shook his head. “Me neither. Lie down on top of the quilt then and face me.”

He did and she stepped forward, climbed on the big bed to lay next to him, face to face. He took her head in one big hand and made to draw her mouth to his.

“We’re getting one thing straight, first Bao-bei: no kissing. None. Not on the mouth.”

He searched her eyes for a hint that she was joking, but found none and slowly nodded, puzzled. Before he could question, she went on, “I don’t kiss a man on the mouth unless there’s love in it. It’s a personal thing, and it’s just my way, dong ma? Not kissing you don’t mean I don’t have feelings for ya, just means it’s my rule and it’s gotta be lived by.”

“Uh-huh, no kissing, I hear ya,” he nodded again. “Not…. Ever,? he smiled, putting on a gently pleading look.

“Not ever, not with you.

Jayne? If this’s not gonna work for ya, tell me now, cause it’s for real. Honey, it’s forever, a deal-breaker. Tell me you’ll honor it.”

“No kissin’. On the mouth, right?”

At her nod he swept up close and took his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, kissed her there with all the enthusiasm he wanted to give her mouth. He took the kiss up the side of her neck, enjoying the moan of pleasure she gave him. Her own head turned giving him all access, her mouth found his ear, bit his soft earlobe just a bit, then sucked that softest part of the hard man in.

Jayne groaned deep, came up off her soft neck and kissed his way along her jawline, feeling her lips leave his ear as he went. She smelled, hell, she tasted fine as springtime, better’n caramel fudge. His heart and his cock leapt in response to what he held here in her bed, what his senses told him was a moving feast of pleasures he was more’n het up to explore.

Exploration was the thought uppermost in him and he started at the top of her. Jayne’s hands busied, seeking through her upswept hair finding the few pins that held it in place. The candle on the night table flickered and glowed brightly by turns echoing with red-orange light the shade of her hair in the big man’s fingers.

Jayne freed a thick lock of satiny auburn, held it to his nose and rubbed it along his face, eyes closed. Then, the last pin discarded, tossed on or around the table, he grasped a great handful of the lovely soft mass near her scalp and tugging lightly he pulled back from her, his blue eyes riveted on her own deep green ones.

Maeve’s mind sought Jayne’s as his gaze locked on her. She felt safe looking into him now, both of them had the same objective after all, no questioning anymore. They lay in her bed where she’d imagined they’d be some day.

He was full of her, of what she felt like, smelled, tasted, looked like. And she liked what she saw of herself in his thoughts. Liked the tugging of his hand in her hair too, wanted more, wanted it rough and soft and hard and deep with him. By the look of him, by the look of his thoughts they wanted the same things.

“Jayne,” she whispered softly to him. “Relax, Honey, we’ve got all night. And if you don’t relax, ain’t no way I’m gonna be able to make this right for you, for me.” He shifted his lower body closer to her own.

“Tzao-gao, you’re wound up tight and hard! That ain’t ordinarily a problem, won’t be no kinda problem next time you make love to a woman. But for our purposes right here and now, we need you loose and easy.” She stroked her hands along his face from chiseled jawline to his ears and clasped her hands loosely at the nape of his neck.

“Turn over onto your belly, you swai specimen of masculinity.”

He obeyed without question although his cock had queries regarding how it was gonna manage what he wanted while trapped between his belly and a mattress.

Maeve knew what she was about, laid herself prostrate along the side of him just barely touching, nothing erotic, or…as little erotic as two naked people barely touching could manage.

Raising up on one elbow she rubbed his wide shoulders and back, fingers, knuckles and flat of her hand massaging him deeply, slowly. She knew the human form well, had learned the flow and play of all 640 major muscles. Could trace almost all 206 bones beneath a body’s flesh. She played him like a homework assignment, brushing up on what was there on his torso, silently categorizing his muscles and bones.

As she touched him, soothed him, Maeve sailed the esoteric nature of the study into his mind, not so he could absorb the actual anatomical nomenclature but more as an attempt to impart the calm normality of the lesson.

He was a good student. His breathing slowed, heartrate too as she touched him both mentally and physically.

“Maeve? How many bones and muscles are there?”

Maybe he was too good a student. She smiled and gave him the count. He rolled over to face her, his hand going to his freed cock. He smiled back and the look he gave told her he was ready to start slow this time, and maybe he knew she’d give him a slow-down if they ended up needing it.

Maeve took his hand away from his nethers and threaded her fingers through his. She slid atop him, one long leg between his own longer stronger ones, put their joined hands on the bed to his right and pulled herself up his body.

As her breasts became crushed on his muscled and lightly furred chest, Maeve sighed and moved her lower body to rest on his thigh. Jayne murmured, “Nice,” and took his free hand to her rump, molding her to him, pushing into her, feeling her nethers against him pulse and weep onto his skin. His organ beat and twitched between them, seemingly tiring of entrapment while seeking a trap more tight and wet than it had found thus far.

Maeve pulled herself further up Jayne’s body, planting the cul-de-sac of her femininity at the tip of the man’s staff. She watched his face carefully as she went so near to where they’d eventually connect. His face looked pained and the sound he gave spoke it aloud. It was almost a whimper, as much of a one that such as Jayne Cobb would ever give.

She rested her weight on him as his cock leapt between them, as it begged for more and deeper access between them. She spread her legs, knees almost at his narrow hips. Maeve took her hands up along his sides to his chest, threading her fingers through the hair on him.

As she prepared to put her hands flat to raise astride and take him inside he suddenly rolled them both over so he was on top.

Her hair became trapped beneath her shoulders at his maneuver and she strained her head, raised up to free it just as he realized the problem and said, “Let me.”

Jayne reached under Maeve’s neck close to her scalp and tugged her locks free, pulling once, then twice gently, spreading the fiery mass over the pillow. His face wore a one-sided rapt smile as he performed the service and he spoke his thought with a, “Maeve, you’re beautiful, you know that? So beautiful it hurts my eyes sometimes.”

She purred and shifted beneath the man astride her, lower body pushing up to him, her hands going to his neck, arms twining to bring him down to her, lips wanting another taste of his neck, his shoulder. She wondered if teeth could taste as well? Figured they must be able to, for hers were begging for contact with his skin.

Resisting the tugging of her upper body, Jayne looked down to her lower. “Maeve, I need you to do something.”

He didn’t look back up at her eyes but left his gaze where it was as his cheeks reddened a little.

She knew what he wanted but needed to hear him say it. Perversely, even though it might be hard for him, she wanted the words.

“What, Love?”

“I—need you to put me inside you,” it came out all in a rush, in a voice cracked and trembly.

Wasting no time, Maeve slid her hand down where he jutted up straight and true, his body moving back offa her enough for her to take him. Gripping his staff at its base, she took him to the top edge of her slit, guiding him slowly, thickly downward until he was nested at her opening. She tugged him slightly down into her, moved her hand away after giving him a tight squeeze and release.

Jayne’s head jerked up, gaze at the top of her head, eyes slowly closing as the head of his phallus breached Maeve Burlee’s body. Resisting the insane urge to slam into her hard, take her fast and desperate, Jayne instead took her an inch at a time, not knowing where he found the strength to do it, only somehow deciding it felt right and good to do it like this, his first time, her first time with him.

The path inside her was hot, thickly wet and gods-tight around him, sweeping all along him as he foraged ahead, the sensitive head of him nestled and held inside her. She moaned in want beneath him causing him to slam his eyes wide open to take in the sight of her face, the language on her visage that told him what she felt as he took her slow, coming into her slow and deeper with every heartbeat.

Maeve wanted to shout at the boy to do it. Just do it, take her, take her hard, take her deep, stop screwing around and just screw her. All the way, all the way, all the way was the mantra she chanted in her head but she knew it to be her long waiting and wanting that was doing the talking, knew Jayne had had the right of it. Glad he couldn’t hear her thoughts. She knew that, even with no experience of his own, this boy-man seemed to have an instinct for loveplay unparalleled.

They were in for quite a ride.

When his head turned up to her, to look at her instead of being trapped by the sight of him taking her below, she caught his eyes with hers and smiled, moaned again as he pushed into her more and more.

The woman’s smiling lips parted in his shouted name as he took the last inches of the journey all at once, eyes held to eyes as his body went slamming suddenly home into her until there was nowhere left to go. She arched up to meet him an instant after the wide tip of him touched the mouth of her womb, the brief pain of his full entry reminding her of her own first time again.

He was huge, long and thickly encased in her body now and they rested that way, if anything this thrilling could be called rest. It wasn’t long before he repositioned his hands on the mattress on either side of her breasts and began the slide back out, not all the way, please god no, but enough to reverse his path, anxious to come back out of her enough to see if another trip in would be just as good.

They took it this way, rode each other, him shifting side to side, testing the path of the new approach, moving down her some, adjusting thrusts, everything new and good. The pace was awkward somewhat, he didn’t know how to make it right.

The woman underneath Jayne took whatever he gave, howsomeever he wanted to give it. Maeve let him go as he pleased, no tutelage needed as his body and hers connected, drew back and re-fitted again. But when she sensed his indecision she placed both her hands on his hips and he stopped mid-stride.

“Like this, Bao-bei, it’s a rhythm, steady, like the beat of a good song,” and, holding him still, she pushed her core up onto his cock, pulled herself back down, up, down, moaning as she taught him the measure, her soft noises amping up half an octave as he took the pace from her and gave it back in perfect time.

“Maeve?” his voice called her to open her eyes and at the look of him she realized she’d been so wrapped up in her own pleasure that she’d lost track of how close he was to his completion.

“Jayne, it’s okay. Tell me what you’re feeling, it’s all normal, Honey, nothing about this is anything to be ashamed of.”

He swallowed and began, “How long’s it go on like this? I mean, does it usually last a long time? How much is enough? Enough for you, I mean.” He didn’t lose the pace inside her, but he spoke quickly, in a hurry to have his answer. And she knew why.

“Most women take a long time to be ready for the man to finish up. For me it’s about 20 minutes from the first time he touches me till I cum.” He nodded. “For a woman, it builds slow, for most of us, that is. Depends on a lot of things, some of them are the same conditions that decide how long it takes for you.

How long it’s been since we came last, how attracted we are to the man in question, how attractive we feel about our own self, the man’s technique in bed, whether we’re tired, hell; a lot of things.”

His face was dotted with sweat, his hair dampened to almost black as he thrust and slid back from her slower, needing to make the end wait, afraid he’d fail her in this thing.

Maeve felt the change in him as he began the incline and descent into cumming, she knew it was important to him for it to be right.

“Baby, we ain’t near done tonight. I want you to come inside me, need you to shoot deep inside me, don’t wait. No need for waiting, take it to me. Give it to me, I want you to, want you so bad…”

His soul gave her an “Nnnnngggh” sound that was barely human as he responded cell-deep with a grateful hard thrust down, far as he could go, back out once more and in with a slamming pouring heating quivering shooting flow that went on and on as Jayne came, came hard and long inside his first woman.

She held him deep, held him still, one leg around his butt, the other tucked over his thigh as he gave her what she wanted. His seed soothed, hot though it was, bathed her as she felt the last issue from him. He pulsed, drew back a little and pushed forward and finally rested atop her, his head sideways on her breasts, hands still thoughtfully at her sides on the bed supporting some of his weight so as not to crush her.

At the feel of his giving in at last, she let the pent up wound up tight up coiling in her nethers go, keening as quietly as she could in order not to scare the boy who wasn’t aware of the sounds of a woman’s pleasure at being satisfied by her man.

His head raised to look a question at her but she was in no wise able to answer him verbally, not with her body doing all the talking. Instead she whipped her head back onto the pillow and shouted his name, holding him tight, her nethers gripping him tighter than before as she felt the crest of her orgasm washing over her then dwindling, oh slowly tapering off, taking time ramping back down to a final tick, tick, tick and pulse before she lay back with a sigh.

“You too?,” he asked after a decent interval, after she opened her eyes and wiped a hand across her sweat-starred brow.

“Yeah, me too,” she smiled and told him, breathless, still enjoying the ticking of her canal that held him inside her.

His manhood twitched in response to her little movements where he still nestled, his pubic bone flush with her curls. He knew he’d given her as good as he’d gotten.

She shifted a little, attempting to ease an ache in her calf but he stopped her with a, “Shhh. Stay a bit, Maeve.” She contented herself with using the toes of one leg to rub along the other and waited.

Jayne rolled them both onto their sides and cocked one long leg over Maeve’s hip, bending at the knee. His penis slid out a little but he kept them close enough to feel the connection, neither of them ready to be two instead of one just yet.

tzao-gau – Wow, or oh my!

End, Part 7, The Way of Jayne

More to come. Got feedback? Please deliver some. Thankee so much for reading!