Below the dense black mat of her pubes, her fat pale labia were sealed
together.  He ran a finger along them, and she groaned but didn't
move. His fingers pushed at the lips and they splayed open, shining
with moisture. Inside was slick with thick fluid, smooth and
hot. Touching her there once more after so long was like smelling an
odor of childhood, like hearing a voice of a loved one whose cadences
one has started to forget. How many times had he closed his eyes and
tried to recall the exact texture, the exact color? He adored her now
all the more for her evocation of the cherished images of his
memory. He adored the past woman all the more for foreshadowing the
woman before him now.