![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
Chapter Ninety
Genevra had painted bright designs on every spare wall and ceiling of their suite: wide, swirling bands of colours, shapes reminiscent of shimmering jellyfish, interpentetrating orbs of cosmic vapour, and strange conglomerations of colour and line, the words for whose description refused to slide down from the tip of Enid’s tongue; all abstract, yet familiar. Rosella was the most naturally gifted at keeping house—whereas Genevra, left to her own devices, would have been satisfied in a sty—but they all pitched in with the domestic necessities, with the result that one might think it, from the inside, a hyperbolically idyllic cottage miraculously concretised out of a children’s picture book. All that was absent was birdsong, talking animals, and of course a blunt dose of moral instruction.
In the bedroom, the three ladies had managed to array their bodies so that while each one was having her genitals stimulated by at least one of the others, she was, simultaneously, stimulating the genitals of at least one other participant. The exact configuration isn’t important for the purposes of this narrative, and can, I trust, be readily diagrammed in the lascivious imagination of the reader, but, to turn to the higher plane to which their souls had ascended, it might be said that, if each of them bore a blossom, which was presently undergoing the process of pollination, then the three of them, grafted into a single flower, which was unfolding its petals to the heavens, at once projected their spores skywards, and basked in the reciprocal sunlight. It was a phenomenon, they were sure, insofar as they retained any sentient consciousness with which to contemplate it, unattainable by any other formation of lovers; certainly not by the pairing of a biologically facile man and woman in matrimony. No, theirs was a spiritual adventure they couldn’t believe had ever been realised before, in all human history; but, then again, what history? What past? What future? These terms, and the concepts to which they were purportedly attached, were meaningless, clunked together by barbarians in a long-lost tongue, and went unperceived for the duration of their holy ecstasy.