When the heat of their passion made them to shed their clothing, the force of attraction braced them back into embrace. While he pleasured over her frame, sharpening his joy, she swirled in his arms in rapture. Even as her pulsations accentuated her curves, his passion found its expression in them. Rolling over her rollicking legs, he made his way to her chink to probe its depth through his protruding tongue. When, to let her have a measure of his manhood, he pushed her down to his declivity, her innate love prompted her lust into reciprocation. At that, as she reached the threshold of urge, she let him free her virginity on lease with the force of his virility. Enjoying the fulfilling feeling of that emotional conjugation, he strived to make her experience the joy of being loved by man. As she began to share with him the ecstasy of the lovemaking she was experiencing, he got the feeling that she loved him sexually as well. Soon, the orgasmic stage they reached brought the euphoria of their conjugation to a languid end ushering in a life of emotional integration.
As Suresh found her pensive at the dining table, he was beset with anxiety and enquired with concern.
“Honestly,” she said singing her song of anxiety, “your riches frighten me.”
“That’s a measure of your simplicity,” he said, as he offered her a morsel from his own plate.
Gladdened by his gesture, she reciprocated in full measure enabling them to have a sumptuous dinner fed from the hands of each other.
“You know the role money played in the downfall of our family,” he began as they went back into their room. “While I served the sentence, I thought long and hard about it and realized that it’s the character of money to corrupt the ardent, tease the vacillating and curse the indifferent. That way, there seems to be no escape for man from money. You’re damned if you have it and accursed for the lack of it.”
“Money is best in its moderation, isn't it?,” she said as though to convert him to her point of view.
“Make money the measure and you are in for trouble dear,” he said taking her into his arms. “for that would keep you in its grip forever.”
“What to do then?” she asked seemingly puzzled.
“One should try to demystify money to see what really it is worth,” he continued. “After all, the accumulated millions with a miser add up to zero, and likewise, the moolah with a spendthrift comes to naught in the end. So, money has no value of its own, in spite of the awe in which man holds it. As for the power of wealth, it’s only in the mind of the haves and the have-nots alike.”