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I moved here a few years ago." She said nothing else, so Luke filled in. "I came about five years ago, myself. I was raised on a farm." He grinned. "I guess that's why I drive the carriage. You know, can't take the horse out of the boy . . . ." Emma gave a small smile. "I always think the carriages look so . . . different. From another time. I see you drive by, you know, from my apartment. At Christmas, especially, when you all have the top hats and old-fashioned coats, I can almost believe we're in Dickens' London or something." "That's a nice image." Luke winked. "But I can't do a cockney accent, and I think that's required." Emma laughed. "I bet you could do it." " Ere, guv'ner, 'ow about a royde?" Luke attempted to sound like a cockney driver, failed miserably, and Emma laughed harder. "I think that might work in Australia," she told him. Luke was pleased he'd managed to get her to laugh. "Told you so." x-x-x-x Emma sighed as they took a break, got some hot chocolate, and sat at. Now it was New Year's Day, 1777, and I had a good, sore, ugly, solid erection and the urge to use it. I blew Susan's hair out of her face, and she slowly awoke beside me. She slept in her shift; I was wearing just my shirt as usual. It was almost as cold as outdoors in her little cabin despite the carefully banked fire, but I threw back the quilt to her knees and said, "Look." Despite blotchy stripes, swollen veins, a blood blister and a discolored head, I was proud of it."Well," Susan said as I flipped the quilt back up cover us, "my goodness." I caressed her soft back, feeling the raised lines of her scourging. She shivered. I wondered about her other injuries, the internal ones. Her hand slid down my bruised stomach. "Seems a lot smaller," she said with a chuckle in the voice. "Think we ought to give the poor little thing a try?"I pulled her leg over mine and slid into her very slowly, feeling her tongue licking my chest, the hurried pace of her breathing, the ripples in her belly,.
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