An Intellectual Affair

She folded shut the book and imagined handing it to him; marked and underlined with places in the margins where she'd scribbled her initial thoughts in response to the prose. She knew she'd hand it to him from a warm and inviting posture, but she wondered if she would allow her eyes to hang heavy with desire or if she should display a playful upturn of her lips.

She breathed deep. Her whole body wanted to be penetrated by him. She paused and marveled at a man's ability to penetrate. It was so powerful and exciting a thought to ponder that she was almost jealous of the other gender's gifted prowess. She was sure that feeling him inside her would be ecstasy. However, it was not to be as, giving into that desire would irrevocably change her good world, certainly, for the worse.

Despite this, and not yet willing to entirely let go of the pleasure she derived from playing around what she would not allow her body to have, she resigned herself to the intimacy of sharing her mind.

It did not really matter to her what he experienced when they exchanged their books with their markings (though it helped to imagine he understood her intent, and that he enjoyed it). Her heart quickened and her face flushed every time she allowed him to mount her thoughts and slide himself in and out of her mind. The game was, at least, fun to play.

But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.

She was running up against God again. She'd given God her body, but was holding back her "heart" - her mind - while she rather enjoyed the sin internally because she wouldn't allow herself to enjoy it with him.

But, it was still sin. She was not guiltless.

Not yet Lord, not yet.

With a sort of astonishing conceit, of which she was only moderately ashamed, she boldly and childishly declared,

You have my body, but I'm keeping my mind for now!

After such a determined show of independence, to her surprise, she immediately sank into her chair in displeasure, knowing the fence she was riding made none of them happy. She'd either have to give up her mind or, else, reclaim her body, and she knew which it would be.

The acknowledgment caused her head to fall back against her chair as bitter hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She pouted angerly at God, but her bitterness was somewhat quelled by the hope that God would bless her with the peace she'd robbed herself of, when, at last, she stepped down onto the side of loving Him with her whole being, not just with the sacrifice of her body. She knew there was no peace on the other side of the fence, only a momentary pleasure; a pleasure which had consequences. 

This man's innate ability to have caused her spiritual crisis would forever be a part of her story, but her story was not going to revolve around him.

She opened the book again, she continued making her marks, but the desire to share her insights had waned.