The pub garden had been busy earlier, but as the evening drew in, people moved indoors to stand at the bar and talk about whatever came to mind.
The couple remained outside; the wooden picnic bench was near the side of the pub, fields, rich, with late summer wheat, stretched out away from the muted laughter and music coming from inside the walls behind him.
Her view was of him, the blank wall behind him ensured she had no distractions, all other thoughts, without a means to cling on in her mind, slowly dissipated leaving her attention, thoughts and focus purely for him.
He could see the few stragglers near the door, smoking and enjoying the fading evening light.
He could also see the car park and those who had other lives to attend to disappear in waves of kisses, headlights and goodbyes.
Throughout the day they to, had talked and laughed, but were now silent. As the evening settled, so did the need for conversation.
He regarded her, his soft eyes slowly assessing, watching how her eyes were softened in the fading light, her hair coming loose from the clip that held it back, strands drifting over her forehead and around her neck. Her lips were full, some lipstick, painted on with a tremor of anticipation and nervousness earlier in the day, was now losing some of its colour. She unknowingly bit her lip; he could see the tip of her teeth white and gleaming, as they nipped at it, worrying away the last of the lipstick. A sure sign her nerves were returning as the silence between them matched the drawing out of the evening air.
He continued his perusal of her individual features, capturing each in his mind as a separate thought, a mental camera to explore again later at his leisure. As his gaze moved across her face he noticed her cheeks, which had already had a pinkish tinge, increase in colour at his steady, calm, continual appraisal. She dipped her head slightly, becoming shy, her eyes cast downward, as her mind searched for ways to stop a situation she did not understand, and yet had started long before the silence had begun.
Her nerves heightened, she continued to avoid his gaze. Sipping her drink through the straw she was unaware how beautifully erotic she looked. Tendrils of hair fell around her face, framing it perfectly, the pout of her lips wrapped around the straw of her drink with her hands mimicking the gesture as they wrapped around the glass. Beads of condensation gathered, rolling onto the edges of her fingers making them glistening wet; all this combined to make his groin tighten.
Quietly he spoke into the silence, his words barely audible, as if his breath alone would shake he wheat stalks and draw attention to this quiet couple hidden in darkening evening.
"Undo your buttons."
For a moment in time her fingers seemed frozen to the glass. She unpeeled them as if she was a letting go of a life preserver and without it she would be adrift with only his voice to guide her safely back to her own known mind space.
Her nerveless, damp fingers slid on the buttons as she undid the first second and third buttons.
"Stop"
Her fingers stopped mid-motion on the fourth button. He could see the lace edges of her bra, titillating and sweet as it cupped around the pale flesh it encased. The light was now too poor for him to see the beautiful soft pink colour of the lace, but she knew it matched her blushed cheeks.
He smiled, softly across at her, his gaze in place until, discomforted; she looked up at him, finding his gaze holding her eyes firmly for a brief second, she dropped them again. Her hands fluttered briefly for a second, uncertain of what to do, before settling again on her glass, the condensation making her palms wet and cold.
He flicked over her hands thinking of the wetness on her palms, knowing the white fingertips were not from cold, but from the not knowing of what may come.
He allowed his gaze to move across to her cleavage, imagining what she would feel like should he touch it, certainly soft, but would her flesh instinctively beg with its own warmth and beauty to be caressed further?
"Take off your bra, leave your shirt on."
She moved more swiftly than she had before. As she reached around to unclasp it, her breasts jutted out, the nipples brushed against her cold glass. Reacting almost violently, they instantly hardened beneath the thin fabric of her clothes. They looked perfect, large and swollen, with areoles darkening with puckered skin the wetness soaked into her bra.
