She watched as he looked around the courtyard. Though he appeared nonchalant, she wondered if his heart was beating half as hard as hers.
Kisses, tongues searching, tasting. Hands touching warmth and desire. Bodies and minds seeking passion. Hidden by the sound of the waterfall, a low growl, and a moan of release.
Shaking his head, he broke free of his afternoon reverie. He glanced at his watch, and his shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as he turned to leave.
She stepped out from behind the screen of the waterfall, and offered her hand.
"Hello. I wasn't sure you would come."
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and the elastic of her panties as she sat down. Old, soft, well-worn denim around her ankles, she smiled as she saw the results of her meandering morning fantasies.
Her fingertips, occasionally stroking the fabric of her shorts over her erect and swollen clitoris, had brought her some small satisfactions, and her everyday cotton underwear were soaked with her fragrant feminine arousal.
She washed her hands, and grinning, went back to her computer to send an email to her husband.
Lunch is ready.
The sound of the rushing river, the feel of the rough wooden post digging into her back, only enhanced the sensations as his hands moved her hips. Pulling her close, his powerful member exploded deep inside her womanly mysteries.
The beating tattoo of the falling rain shushed the sound of her moans as she thrust forth her pelvis, and grinding her hips firmly against his, answered his desire with unbridled passion.
Opening her eyes, she buttoned her raincoat and smiled at the man watching from the veranda. He answered in kind as she slipped a well-moistened finger in her mouth.
She stood and walked to the window, avoiding his questioning gaze.
"Don't look at me like that."
"You know why I'm here."
She watched the birds and anticipated his certain reply.
"But we can't," he said softly.
"You know that."
Her stomach fluttered as she felt him approach from behind.
And she waited.
He could smell her desire floating on the currents of warm spring breezes. He could feel her heat, damp against his fingers as she reached inside her unzipped shorts. He could envision her fantasy as his trousers grew tight and uncomfortable. He could taste her release as she held her fingers in front of the camera, and smiling teasingly at him, licked them off, one by one.
Yearning through the years, for that which could never be? Still, the mind can never be when chances are never taken. Fantasies will be the coin of the realm, and served up hot. More's the pity when she may not have the thing she most desires.
Still life is full and her mind’s not still, this will ever be so. A sigh, a small smile, the swelling in her loins, design to fill the yearning still. Alas this is ever so.
Someday...
