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Valerie meets the sisters.

Lise lowered herself slowly and gradually to the floor with a long heartfelt sigh. Margarete clapped her hands in delight, and cried, "Oh, you are truly a marvel!"

She went to where Lise lay full length on the floor, studied her with pleasure, then held out a hand to help her up. Lise drank in the vivid, excited expression on Margarete's face. She loved Margarete's animation, her capacity for exuberance. Margarete hugged her close and gave her a resounding kiss on the cheek. "You are wonderful!" she exclaimed. Lise's hands claimed Margarete, one at her hip and one at her shoulder. "And you are beautiful!" she replied, taking Margarete's earlobe quickly between her teeth.

They pressed close, each clinging to the other. Margarete nestled against Lise, pressing her lips into the hollow of Lise's throat.

"After I am wed," she said softly, "Shall we still, still... Shall we be as we are now?" She put her arms tightly around the other woman, seeking both sensual enjoyment, and reassurance. Lise cupped her hand around Margarete's round bottom.

"As long as we are together," she replied, "This feeling which is between us will not fade. I have sworn myself to your side, and never will I tire of your sweetness." Her other hand slid down over Margarete's breast, down to the warm mound between her legs, resting their gently. "Though, perhaps, once you have known your husband's attentions, you will no longer crave mine." She tried to make her tone mildly teasing, but she experienced a stab of genuine anxiety.

She felt an unaccustomed tension in the younger woman, and pulled a little away to study her face. Margarete's eyes were wide, slightly glazed, and shone with unshed tears. "What is wrong?" Lise demanded in surprise. Margarete's face contorted slightly, but words failed her. Finally, she whispered "I am afraid. Oh Lise, never leave me, swear it again!"

Lise pulled her close again. "I swear it as many times as you wish," she replied, and felt the swelling of love for her mistress and friend.

"Come now," she said, while Margarete shook with silent sobs, "you must not do this. Tomorrow is your wedding day, and your eyes must be clear, bright and unblemished.

Lise led her to the bed, pushed her gently down and began rubbing her back slowly and tenderly. Margarete gulped, trying to contain her fear.

"I will never leave you," Lise said again. "This country is alien, and your husband is a stranger, but you will learn to live in this place, and perhaps soon there will be a child." Margarete clung to her compulsively. Lise felt her body quivering, but the tears had stopped. Lise was relieved. A woman's armor was scant enough, and Lise knew that Margarete must rely on her pride, dignity and beauty in order to secure her place in this new life.

Watching the younger woman's silent struggle to regain composure, Lise was moved to compassion, admiration, and a fierce possessiveness. She held Margarete tightly, moving her hands eagerly over her body, filled with a hunger to claim, to feel, taste, possess, to bind Margarete to her anew. A fleeting awareness told her that Margarete was not the only one who feared.

Lise pulled a warm quilt over top of them, and rolled to straddle Margarete, covering the delicate skin of her face with hungry kisses. When their lips met, the tension of Margarete's fear began to shift into the tension of longing. She pressed herself upwards against Lise, winding her limbs tightly around her and making soft sounds of yearning enjoyment.

Lise's mouth moved down to Margarete's throat, then to the delicious contrast of soft breasts and hard, pointed nipples. She opened her lips widely, as though to consume the tender flesh. For all Margarete could appear so cool and aloof, Lise reveled in the familiar heat that emanated from her skin. Always, Margarete's flesh exuded a vital, vibrant warmth that made her comforting on a chilly night, and eminently provoking in passion.

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