Where Gerlinde was, blame could not survive.<br/><br/>Something about the aquatic glow in her chest, perhaps.  Something about the starry vacuum caught behind her fluttering eyelids.  Something in the pressure that took her middle almost gently in hand, and pushed - pushed through the spout of her prostate, past the flinching perimeter of her seeping sex, out the long path of her embedded penis.  Blame couldn't survive in that environment.  Guilt died with it.  Darkness winked around, suffocated by an agonizing light.<br/><br/>Gerlinde spent and forgot her shared isolation, forgot its causes, felt only the beat of her flesh.  That beat swept her up like a drum's cadence in its earthy current, huge rushes of fluid drowning out everything but for their thrilling climb into Lisle puss' clenching body.  Gerlinde's flesh sang.<br/><br/>She snatched Lisle kitty's head and brought it close to her neck.  Cradling her there, holding with a trembling solidity, Gerlinde snapped her hips to inspire the flow.  Her prostate throbbed in sympathy, enjoying the renewed force.  It seethed to a new level of heat, driving long built-up bursts of semen into the seizing body.<br/><br/>She stroked.  She spent hard, until her teeth seemed ready to pull free and join the flow, and her breath hammered from her body.  She pounded.<br/><br/>And in the end, there was no end again.  Forever had returned, if only for a fragile, wet moment.  And Gerlinde leaned into Lisle kitty, still sliding, torpid and sweet, and began to truly melt.