He was gaunt and walked with a limp.  She was beautiful, fresh, buxom.  They walked slowly, looking for just the right spot -In Flanders Fields. 

They walked where the poppies blow.

They walked between the crosses, row on row.

 They sat among the poppies, her skirt spread around her.   "Should we really do this?" he asked.

"We should," she said, "for you, for us, for them."

He lifted her skirt, moved her red panties aside and entered her.

She responded to his thrusts, felt him explode and then felt her own climax.

Alone, opened her eyes and touched his cross.