DesirЋe Denning stood before the balcony window of the hotel suite and let the warm Caribbean morning breeze wash over her luscious, naked body. It had been the loveliest honeymoon she could imagine, days on the beach, sunning her body to a ripe, gentle tan, evenings of dancing and dining and, yes, champagne, and nights of hot, loving, irresistible sex with her new husband Mark. She had acquired quite a taste for making love, for having a man's, Mark's, penis in her easily-excited needing pussy. Her twenty years of total abstinence and self-denial had built up in her and once unleashed seemed impossible to cool. But now she could indulge without any pangs of guilt, and had, to her heart's content.

Yes, it had been a nearly perfect honeymoon, marred only by her memories, nagging recollections of how she had given herself to Mark beneath the elm tree on her father's ranch, and what had happened after that with three other males that she should never have had to come close to, who had taken advantage of her weakness. And thoughts of that had made her feel unworthy on her wedding day.

Now, it seemed that two weeks of unbounded sexual indulgence with her new husband had purged her mind of that guilt and those cloying, unpleasant memories that threatened her happiness. Now, she knew, everything she said and did had to be impeccable, for Mark was slated to be their new senator to the state legislature. His wife had to be of the highest ethical quality, the highest moral caliber, and except for her brief surrender to desire before the wedding, she knew she would be a shining example of a good politician's wife. Her only real misgivings now were related to Pastor Hemmings, but there was little likelihood that he would ever say anything, for his position was just as precarious as hers. However, she would be expected to be back in church next week, and that would be awkward, at best.