... laughing inside , knowing that she knows , that her nipples hear him , that they rise and harden , knowing that as he lays his thigh astride hers , as their flesh forms boundary , as the muscles in his thighs tighten that she also tightens , that she is bounce to his thump , here a draw of water running up and she the bank hardening to restrain him , to hold him , and with every image ever known he flocks down upon her , himself a massive falling from the sky , a cloaking , a blanketing , simply , his lips kissing , and his tongue celebrating , and his fingers plunging into the pleasures of her soft belly , the roll and creamy flow of her belly down to her cunny , there with a thousand calls , a thousand invitations , a thousand conjurations : treasure of my soul , garden of my delights , sweet honey-hive !