Gregory Freeman

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We laugh. We lie together, fucking softly, gently, swimming in it, and for the first time the orgasm comes to me unsought, peacefully almost, like a slow dawn, a slow flowering out of relaxation and yieldingness and nonbeing. No reaching out for it. Falling like rain, flowering, drowning the mind.
Incest: From "A Journal of Love" -The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin (1932-1934)
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