It was definitely going beyond the game stage. “Aw, Lori, don’t be like that!” he protested, wriggling within her scissors, nudging her where it didn’t show. “You’re the girl of my dreams!”

Lori abruptly stopped struggling. She looked up at him moonily. “You mean it?” Her scissors relaxed.

“ Of course.” And now it was true. Their wrestling had completed what her comforting had started, and now he wanted her very much.

As well she knew. She was, after all, in contact with that region. She entwined him with her long athletic legs, this time not squeezing but embracing, and pulled him in to her. They kissed.

“You are so full of bull…” she breathed.

He laughed. “Well, you know what a bull does with a cow!”

“Cow!” she exclaimed with mock indignation. “You ever see a cow do this?” She sat up, bestriding him, riding his groin, and hauled off her nightgown. She had the world’s finest body, and knew it. “Or this?” She bounced, her breasts following their own courses while her thighs did special things to his midsection. “Or this?” She abruptly dropped her upper torso onto him and kissed him savagely. Her tresses slid down around his face and neck, silken smooth, tickling him delightfully.

“No,” he had to admit. “The cows I know just stand there and wait for it.”

She lifted her head, her eyes glinting with dangerous humor. “And just how many cows do you know?”

“Only one.” He felt her body tense warningly. “And she’s only a dream.”

Lori relaxed. She liked that analogy. He had called the dream-girl a cow, instead of the real one. She resumed her activity. It was certainly true that she didn’t just wait for it; she came more than halfway to get it. It was an attitude he liked very well. He put his hands on her buttocks, and felt them tensing alternately, teasing him, daring him to get more than his hands into action.