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strong like this. Sea life gets tossed ashore and some of it's very interesting. Would you care to join me? The smell can be quite strong down there.”

“If you can stand the smell, so can I.”

“I do more than stand it. I love it. It's the smell of home to me.” Nyk helped her down the rocks. He slipped off his sandals and walked barefoot along the black sand, letting the surf splash against his ankles.

Nyk spotted a cephalopod-like creature lying on the sand. Its shell was a slender, curved cone about a metre in length. He picked it up and showed it to her. “The shell is cracked here. The surf must have thrown it onto those rocks. It's dead.”

“Poor thing.”

“This is its eye,” Nyk said, pointing. “The mouth is in the midst of this tangle of tentacles.” He took the shell to the edge of the surf and shook it to dislodge its inhabitant. He showed her the inside of the empty shell. The lining was glittering, iridescent blue-violet.

“It's beautiful!” Nyk handed her the shell.

“That's a fairly large specimen. I once had quite a collection of those. They're probably still in the house, somewhere.”

Andra walked to the edge of the surf and into the sea until it was halfway to her knees. She turned around and waved at Nyk, beaming a smile. “The smell's not so strong here,” she yelled over the roar of the surf. A large wave dampened the hem of her tunic and she started back toward the beach. Nyk motioned her to a pool sheltered from the surf by some rocks.

“This one's my favorite.” He pointed to a five-legged arthropod. It was making a zigzag track along the bottom of the pool. “The mouth is in the center on the bottom. There are five segments, each with a leg and an eye. The animal has no front or back, only top and bottom. It can see in a complete circle and it can change directions at will.”

Nyk scooped a palmful of water from the pool, poured it into his mouth, then spat it out. Andra dipped in her finger and tasted a drop. Her eyes widened.

“Can you taste the sulphur?” he asked.

“It's bitter and it lingers in the back of my throat.”

“That's the taste of the native life on this planet. That's why this world can never nourish us. The sea is life -- our life originated in Earth's sea. We carry a bit of that sea within each of us, Andra. Every time you taste the salt of a tear, you're tasting the Earth's sea, the origin of our life.”

“Have you seen Earth's sea?” she asked.

“No -- it's something I want to do, some day. I wonder how I'll react to the smells of that world's sea.”

He held her hand and walked to the end of the beach. “Those are trivalves. This is an arthropod related to the five-legged one.” He picked up a shell. “Look how elaborate. It's still alive.” He tossed it into the surf. “Ninety-nine percent of our population neither know nor care that we share this planet. We share it with creatures that breathe water instead of air. Our world is fairly young, compared to Earth. Perhaps in a billion years or so, this world will evolve intelligent, thinking creatures. Or, would have, if left alone. No one knows our ultimate impact on this world's life.” He escorted her toward the bluff and started climbing the rocks.

“Over here is my favorite spot.” He led her down a slight slope to the bowl-shaped depression lined with sand. “This is the place. If you lie in the sand, you're below the rim of the bowl. The wind passes over you, and it's quiet. This is a great place to relax. I used to lie here and look up at the sky. Sometimes, I'd sleep here. I'd lie nude, look up at the night sky, listen to the surf and stay here all night.” He lay in the sand, gazing up as the indigo sky deepened in the Floran dusk.

Andra lay beside him. “This is peaceful.”

“Have you ever looked at the night sky from a dark location? There's too much stray light in a city. Even in Sudal, city lights wash out the sky. Some night, we'll come out here and look up at the stars. The night sky is Floran's most beautiful feature.” He reached and touched her hand. “Another thing I used to like to do was to stand in the rain, right before a storm. It has to be the right kind of storm, one that starts with rain before the wind. You usually know when that kind of storm is coming, because the air gets close. Then a gentle rain comes and a few gusts of wind. I used to like to do that in the nude, too. You might think I did a lot in the nude here. It's so private -- and I like to feel in touch with nature.”

She pressed her palm against his and he laced his fingers with hers. “Nyk, you're different than I expected. You're different from how Senta described you.”

“I should hope so.”

“I didn't mean it that way. Senta told me you're a kind and decent man.”

“Senta said that?”

“Yes, and I can feel that about you. But you're deeper than I expected.”

“Deeper? What do you mean?”

“You think deep thoughts. I like that. I can feel your love of nature and the sea. I like that, too. I think I could love the sea.”

Nyk rolled to face her. “You're not what I expected, either. I was such an idiot about you.” He gazed into her eyes. “I welcome you as my friend.”

“I welcome you, too,” she replied. “I welcome you as my amfta.”

“You want us to be amften?” She nodded. “You'd share the gift with me?”

She touched his cheek and smiled. “I was afraid you wouldn't ask. Would you accept me as your amfta?”

“I ... of course, Andra.”

She caressed the back of his head. He closed his eyes, felt her lips against his and he kissed her. “Shall we here?” she asked.

“No, not here. I've tried. The sand can be uncomfortable. I tried to lose my virginity here -- with Senta. It was a disaster! I thought it would be special, because this place is so special to me. Senta never liked Sudal and this experience didn't help.”

Nyk escorted Andra into his childhood bedroom. He grasped the hem of her tunic and lifted it from her. She slid down his shorts and he stepped from them. Andra stretched out on the mattress and he lay beside her.

“Nyk, are you nervous?”

He shook his head. “No... Maybe a bit... Why? Does it show? You're so beautiful, Andra. I understand the finishing schools teach exotic lovemaking techniques. I'm not an adventuresome lover and I hope...”

“Neither am I. You mustn't believe everything you've heard of ax'amfinen.”

“So I'm discovering. I'm very sorry I misjudged you.”

“As am I that I misjudged you.” She touched his face. “I am ax'amfin, Nyk -- I know what ... thing it is I am. But I'm also a woman, and I have the same feelings as any woman. The finishing schools can't take that from us. They would if they could, but they can't.”

“We don't have to do this,” he replied. “We can be friends without it.”

“I wouldn't have asked if I didn't truly want it. We learned at Vebinad how to read others. Even though I'm only beginning to know you, what I've read so far I like. I think you and I must be kindred spirits.”

“I was arriving at the same conclusion,” he said.

“Let's seal it by sharing the gift and becoming amften. I've met only one other kindred spirit in my life.”

“Do you mean Janna?”

“Yes, she...” Andra touched his lips. “...and now, you...”

“Is she also among your amften?” he asked.

“My only other.”

Nyk stroked her face and gazed into her eyes. Her pale blue, nearly white irises were freckled with black specks. He realized what a beauty she was. Her eyebrows and eyelashes were the same pale blond as her hair. She had the finest features and not a blemish. Her beauty was flawless except for a faint, blue trace of a vein at her temple.

He brought his lips to hers and she kissed him. He stroked her hair, letting the fine, oat-straw white strands pass over and between his fingers; and he maintained deep eye contact with her, not letting his gaze stay below her collarbone. He could feel her breath on his face.

With his fingertips he traced her lips. They were smooth and ample but not too full -- just right -- and this he determined was the secret to Andra's astonishing beauty: All of her features indeed were in perfect balance -- perfect harmony.

Nyk regarded the shape of her face and traced her jaw with the back of his finger. Andra grasped his hand, kissed it and pressed it against her body. He continued gazing into her eyes; and he ran his fingers along her clavicle and then down her sternum. Then he brushed the backs of them against her left breast. Andra's body jerked.

“Was that all right?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I was wanting it.”

He continued to caress her. “If you want something -- ask for it.”

“I was enjoying what you were doing. I liked the attention you were giving me.”

Nyk slipped his hands under her shoulders. Andra let her head and arms fall back as he lifted her. He kissed her neck and between her breasts. She held his head against her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. He could hear her heart pounding.

“You're gentle,” she said. “I like that, too.”

He lowered her onto the mattress. Andra picked up his hand and guided it onto her body. “Like this,” she said, showing him the sorts of touch she preferred. Nyk's eyes followed his hand as she led it. He regarded her skin -- how light she was compared to his own medium complexion.

Nyk caressed her, drinking in her beauty. Her figure was the epitome of the Floran feminine ideal -- slim but curvaceous; athletic but soft. Zander was right, he thought. Everything about her was perfection -- her long, shapely legs with perfectly proportioned thighs and well-formed calves ... her thin arms ... the muscle definition in slim torso ... her slender fingers ... her compact breasts. He placed his hand on her breast and watched her ribs move with her breathing.

“Do you know the delayed release technique?” she asked.

“Yes -- Senta tried to teach it to me. I'm not very good at it.”

“I'm sure you're good enough. Let's try using it. It's the best one for becoming amften.”

“Okay, we'll try.”

He recalled Senta's coaching and began the meditative exercise, using Andra's eyes as his focus. Like everything else about her they had perfectly formed Floran characteristics -- a hint of epicanthic fold -- the outer corner slightly slanting upward -- set not too deeply in her face. He regarded her long, white eyelashes and her eyelids, each with a fine fold of skin perfectly bisecting it. It was the color of her irises, though, that made her eyes unique -- pale but pure blue and crystal clear.

Nyk was dividing his mind. Sensations of her touch he forced into the back while he directed the front of his awareness onto the response of her body to his. Focus on your partner, he recalled from Senta's instruction. It's giving and trust -- give all of yourself to your partner and trust your partner to do the same... He regarded Andra's body for little tells that might reveal her level of arousal -- her breathing slowing and deepening; her pupils dilating and her gaze appearing to aim through him at some object behind the back of his head.

Nyk's own arousal was building, like a spring being tightened; but he was keeping his awareness of it confined to his back mind. His front mind he focused laser- like onto Andra -- the depth of her breathing, her heartbeats telegraphed through her flesh, the warmth of her skin, the tone of her muscles, and especially her eyes. He was reading her body and modulating his touch in response, increasing the intensity as he tightened the spring in her body.

She was doing the same. The object of the technique was for each to drive the other to orgasm and beyond, while confining their own pleasure until the moment of mutual release.

Nyk placed his hand on Andra's wrist. She looked up into his face. “I'm sorry,” he said, “but I lost my focus. Give me a moment to regain it.” She nodded once. He gazed again into her eyes and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Nyk refocused his attention onto her; then he guided her hand onto his body. “I'm ready, now,” he said.

Andra lay on her back and

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