Transcriber’s Note

Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

Beth Danson was about twenty-five and, besides her deep auburn-brown hair and lovely face, she boasted an equally attractive body. He found himself captivated by the warm thrust of her breasts beneath the silk blouse. The clear milk of her flesh, at the “V” of her throat excited him in a strange way. When he thought of her as his wife, it was frightening. It was as though someone had tossed him a woman and expected him to just fall into the routine of marriage. It wouldn’t be hard to come to love this woman, but it would take awhile. Hell, he didn’t know her. She was a complete stranger who had suddenly told him they were married. There was nothing familiar about her; even the fingers that were softly working over his face were alien.

Beth Danson

[p1]“I think we’re property...”

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—Charles Fort

[p3]He was lying on a strangely made bed, the warm breezes of evening rolling in off the crashing sea and the woman stood in the ornate doorway that entered the bedroom. Her hair was as gold as the noon sun and her eyes, lifting slightly at the outer curves, were as blue as the sea. Her lips petaled back over the white strength of her teeth and her fingers did strange things to make the flimsy robe drop from the rounded softness of her shoulders. Then his fingers curled about the curve of her thigh. His fingers tightened and the crimson smile broadened; he pulled and felt her resist him with maidenly demureness, but in the end she came to him. He felt the yielding firmness of her body pressing down into his on the bed and his arms furled about the softness that she offered. The warm cones of her breasts worked on the hardness of his chest and his mouth fused against hers for a passionate kiss.

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 [p5]SEX LIFE OF THE GODSbyMICHAEL KNERR

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