“Hamlet!” she says as she turns and falls into his arms. “I’m so glad to see you.” Hamlet kisses Ophelia passionately and begins to lift her green velvet frock. They move quietly to the four-poster bed and tumble into the cushions in a fit of giggles and delight. As Hamlet lazily caresses Ophelia’s creamy white skin, he apprises her of his father’s untimely death and instructions from his father’s ghost to confront Claudius.

“The mere thought of avenging my father sets my loins afire.” Hamlet declares. Ophelia caresses his solid erection and slowly begins to disrobe. “Let me quell your heat my dear Hamlet” she purrs. Hamlet buries his face in her milky breasts and caresses each with the flick of his tongue. In mere moments, Hamlet has pulled off his purple leotard and is perched atop Ophelia. The blending of flesh and tongues blinds them both with passion and hunger.

Ophelia spreads her creamy thighs and Hamlet buries his spear in her velvet softness. A small moan escapes her lips and the promise of their future lies await in her heart. Hamlet begins to thrust hard and fast, racing toward climax. Abruptly, he jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. “I have a solution!” he shouts. Ophelia, still dazed from lovemaking and jarred by the intense disconnection before she has had a chance to reach her peak looks at him with an emptiness in her eyes.

Hamlet turns to Ophelia and tells her to get dressed. Confused, she complies and begins to pick up the pieces of her garb from around the room. “You should go join a convent.” he says. “But Hamlet” she implores, frantically waving her lace undergarments “what about our future together? What about marriage?” “There will be none of that. I plan to ban marriages altogether.” he tells her. “But you are mad!” she cries. “MAD! Mad? You think I am Mad…” he says as he stalks out of the room, leaving Ophelia alone and broken.