But as the camera held upon them, the scene began to seem less dirty; there was something almost beautiful in the tender way they were caressing each other, a gentleness that the man hadn't shown. Their hands fluttered like butterflies, softly, beguilingly, and Lauralee thought that was the way a man should love a woman, very tenderly – not ramming his swollen thing savagely like a lust-mad animal.

One of them was kissing the other's globular breasts, nuzzling each nipple in turn, and Lauralee's finger began to slide again, teasing into her slit and seeking to bring back that tickly, mind-expanding goodness. Now the blonde was lying on top of the dark-haired woman, and the man was kissing them both and rubbing his organ along their gleaming thighs. But they seemed to be paying little attention to him.

Why, Lauralee thought in surprise, they were trying to – to do it together, and they ought to know that couldn't be done. They simply weren't built like that; one of them had to possess a male thing. But she had to admit that it looked interesting as they thrust together, grinding their crotches and trembling as they continued to kiss hotly.

When the camera cut to a close-up of the moving vulvas, Lauralee's eyes went wide. She could see a clitoris that looked very much like a man's rod, only much smaller, and she could also see that the two slits were meeting, stimulating each other. It was fantastic.

It was also voluptuous, and she began to build up the magic rhythm again, her eyes fixed upon the screen, her thighs spreading themselves wider as she rooted deeper with the probing finger, pretending she was one with the women.