He pulls out, almost all the way. She doesn't move this time. Doesn't try and chase the pleasure, just anticipates what is coming. He thrusts again, deep. And she can't help it; she has crossed over, giving in to the nature of her true self. Rising up on all fours she is thrusting wildly against him. He is holding her by the hips. Watching her. Drinking her in with his eyes. They are animal. They have chased away the banality of the everyday and now they are the center of all that is. She has ended, and now her sex is all that she knows. It has consumed her and she it.

The day stretches into dusk. The shadows long since retired. The simple sheet, heavy with their passion now lies dormant. Waiting for its lovers return. They will come back to this place, that much is certain. The room will be ready, as it always has been throughout the ages. Not so much a refuge as a world all to its own.