All I Want Is You

(I would like to say a very special thank you to longonenow2004 for his wonderful feedback and encouragement).

The art gallery was tucked away down a bumpy track and I winced as the wheels of my hire car hit yet another pot-hole, the suspension groaning in complaint. Idly wondering whether I was covered for intentional damage, I eventually pulled up next to the sleekest black Audi I had ever seen, my little Ford appearing small and scruffy in comparison.

The art gallery in the countryside of northern Mallorca had been recommended by a friend and I was on the look-out for a painting or sculpture to take home. My job as a wine journalist meant I was staying on the island for two months to write about the great wines emerging from some of the vineyards and I had rented a tiny villa in the north of the island for peace and quiet.

But staying on the island had another advantage because my 20 year marriage was at an end and it was only the thought of being somewhere so beautiful and peaceful that had kept me from dropping into the depths of despair. My house was being sold and my husband had found someone else to love. Perhaps it was time for me to do the same.

Locking the car I made my way out of the intense midday heat and into the cool of the art gallery. The walls inside were white and showed off the paintings to full effect, most of which were local scenes, full of colour and light, the rugged mountains and cliffs of the region accurately depicted in watercolour and oils.

Wandering around and admiring the artwork, I didn't see the man enter the room and stand close to me as I gazed at a view of the Tramuntana mountains.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" he murmured as I jumped in surprise. His voice was deep and smooth with an English accent and I turned to face him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump. This is my favourite painting. We seem to share the same taste."

I nodded in agreement as I smelt the faint tang of his aftershave, his presence next to me making my heart beat a little faster. "I love the colours," I replied, almost kicking myself for not being able to find anything more interesting to say.

"This is a local artist, a friend of mine. She lives for her work and she's very passionate."

"I can see that. She has a lot of talent."

"Oh yes, the passion she has is clear and she normally shows in Palma, but as a gesture of friendship..." he tailed off and looked at me intently.

He was taller than me with dark brown eyes and I felt myself melt. His short dark hair was the colour of chocolate and I suddenly had an insane desire to run my fingers through it. How long had it been since I felt like that about another man?

We stared at each other and I could feel that old familiar desire stir within me. "Er, how much is the painting?" I asked trying to dispel the feeling that surrounded us.

He laughed and took my arm. "Let's have a look at a few more shall we? I hate talking about money!"

We moved to the far side of the room where a small oil painting hung, the colours highlighted by the spotlamps shining from above. "This is a painting of Valldemossa, where George Sand and her lover the musician Chopin stayed. Do you know the story?"

I nodded, my eyes taking in the beautiful colours and the intense light. "It's great there, I love it, but it can be a hell of a place at this time of year. Tourists everywhere. But in the evening when they've all gone, the village takes on another persona and returns to how it should be."

"I'm looking for a painting for my new house," I murmured, wondering if I could tell this man what was happening in my life. "New house, new beginning."

"Well maybe I can help you find what you are looking for. My name is Mark by the way. I own this place."

I looked back at the painting and smiled. "I love everything here, you're so lucky to have this."

Mark laughed again but I could sense a bitterness behind his smile. "Funnily enough, it was started by my wife. It was her idea and we used to live in the villa next door. But sadly she found other interests and I now run it with the help of my brother. I have another business in Palma which keeps me busy. Glad I was here today though!"

I blushed at his words and moved away to examine a stone sculpture of a man and woman entwined, their mouths meeting in a kiss. I thought back to my own marriage, how happy we had been, but that happiness now replaced with spite and mistrust.

The sadness on my face must have showed as Mark came over and picked up the sculpture. "You've got good taste. Will you tell me your name?"

I smiled. "Of course! I'm Jane, but friends call me Janie."

Mark laughed and I could feel myself relax as the warmth and humour was reflected in his eyes. "Well, Jane, let's hope one day I can call you Janie. What do you think? Perhaps I can take you to lunch as a thank you for visiting me today?"

I hesitated. A week had gone by already and I had not written a single word on wine. After my visit to the art gallery I had decided to drive to the town of Binissalem to try and arrange a vineyard tour. The deadline for my article was getting closer and now I was on my own, I needed every penny I could earn.

"I see you're not sure, but don't worry. I know an excellent restaurant nearby. We can take our own cars so you won't be alone with me."

I smiled. "I'm not worried about being alone with you!. It's just that I have work to do and I should really be doing that."

"Ah Jane, everything here stops soon and only the restaurants will be open. It's siesta time and perfect for a long lunch somewhere cool, where the food is delicious."

The thought was so tempting. I felt such a strong attraction for this man and a long lunch was perfect for getting to know him better. I could feel the attraction between us immediately and felt I deserved some relaxation after months of bitter turmoil.

"Ok," I said, smiling up at him as he grinned at me. "But you must let me pay my way."

"Oh no way!. This is my treat. Here in Mallorca we treat our women correctly and I wouldn't dream of making you pay for lunch."

After Mark locked the gallery, I followed him in his Audi back along the rutted track and out onto the main road. I was glad I had dressed for the heat of the Mallorcan July by choosing a short dress that fitted my curvy figue to perfection and strappy sandals that showed off feet just beginning to turn brown.

I had noticed Mark glancing at my legs as I got into my car and again felt that familiar stirring as I imagined making love to him, his strong brown hands stroking my full breasts and exploring my damp pussy which had been neglected for longer than I could remember.

Now, following him along the road I could see him glance into his rear-view mirror and I shivered with anticipation. Where would this lead?

The restaurant Mark had chosen was small and had views over the mountains. Tables and chairs shaded by umbrellas surrounded a small fountain which gave out a soothing sound while soft music played in the background. As we settled into our seats I glanced at him again. Probably late-forties with a smattering of grey in that dark brown hair, his face was one of intelligence and warmth. Dressed casually in jeans and a tee-shirt he certainly didn't look like a gallery owner and I I wondered what had happened between him and his wife. Had he taken a lover since the break-up of his marriage? Would this carefree lunch end in more heartache for me? I already knew that I wanted more of the man sitting opposite me and most of all I wanted us to make love, wanted to feel him inside me and crying out my name as we came together.

"What are you thinking, Jane?" he asked as he took the menu from a waiter. "You have such a wistful look on your face."

I blushed and looked down at the menu. "Oh nothing," I stammered, feeling foolish. He was probably only taking me out to lunch so I would buy an expensive painting and the thought made me cringe inside. Had he done this before with other potential customers?

The waiter appeared again and placed a small bowl of stuffed olives on the table accompanied by a creamy mayonnaise dip and crusty bread. A glass of dry white wine also appeared and I smelt the fresh aroma, before taking a sip.

"You look as if you know what you're doing," Mark said raising his glass as well. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a wine journalist," I answered and took another sip. "I'm here to write about Mallorca's wines, how they have improved recently. I'm hoping more will be exported."

Mark raised his glass. "This is a Chardonnay, from a vineyard near here. Have you visited? I know the owner well. I don't know a lot about wines but Enrico would be glad to tell you his vines and his family."

The conversation flowed easily between us and I relaxed, enjoying his attention, his eyes looking deep into mine. It had been so long since I felt this with another man as I had married my husband at 18 and had been a virgin. Although nervous of being single again I looked forward to experiencing sex with another man and Mark looked every inch the experienced and thoughtful lover I so badly needed.

"Here, Jane, try one of these." Mark picked up a plump juicy olive and held it out to me. "Taste how delicious it is." I opened my mouth and he placed it inside in such an erotic gesture that I felt my insides twist in desire. The longing was getting worse now and I couldn't believe how strongly I felt for this man who I had just met.

"Mmmmm, that's delicious." I murmured as Mark picked up another and held it to my lips.

"You like me feeding you, Jane?" he asked softly and I nodded, my imagination running riot as I thought about how he would taste, how his cock would feel in my mouth, and how his lips would feel as they explored my pussy.

"You have that look again. What are you thinking?"

"It's nothing, Mark. I'm just hungry, that's all."

"Jane, we're eating together. I'm feeding you! I feel as if I know you so well except we've just met. This is strange for me as well, do you believe that?"

I looked up at him and saw his vulnerability too. "What happened between you and your wife?"

"She met someone else. Someone who wasn't as busy as me. I work too many hours, Jane. It's the way I am. But what about you?"

I told Mark about my marriage, how we had grown apart, two people living parallel lives and how my husband had re-discovered an old girlfriend who had made him feel young again.

"I'm sorry, Jane. You deserve more than that."

I felt tears spring to my eyes as I remembered the way my husband used to look at me when we were first married. What had happened to the people we once were?

"Let's not think of that now, hey?" Mark laughed and held out another olive. "I love the look on your face when I do this. Why do I get the feeling you're enjoying it!"

I was stopped from replying by the arrival of a young female waitress who took our order. As it was a typical Mallorquin restaurant, we both ordered the house speciality which Mark recommended and I suddenly realised how hungry I was.

The food was delicious and time seemed to pass so quickly as we chatted about Mark's life in Mallorca, how he still missed the UK and my career in wine. As the afternoon stretched on we were soon the only couple left in the restaurant. It was obvious there was an attraction between us and I wondered where it would lead.

"Jane, I need to see you again tonight. Can I invite you to my house? I'd like you to see my cellar and perhaps you can try some of the wines I have. What do you think?"

I nodded in agreement and Mark arranged to pick me up at my villa. I felt a shiver of desire run through me as we walked back to our cars, the afternoon sun now a burning circle of white hot light in the blue sky.

As I stood by my car, he pulled me close and kissed me on the lips. I tasted the faint tang of the coffee he had drunk and responded to his touch. The kiss turned more erotic as I opened my mouth and felt his tongue probe mine. I could feel his hard warm body pressed next to me and his unmistakable erection as we kissed, neither of us wanting to move away first.

"Oh Jane," he groaned eventually. "Tonight's going to be fun don't you think?"

I nodded and with one small kiss on my lips he had gone, the Audi roaring away in the quiet of the afternoon.

I made my way slowly back to my villa, feeling drowsy after the glass of wine and the fierce heat of the afternoon.

Stripping off my dress I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom and examined my body critically. Long dark hair framed an attractive face and I had been told several times I looked younger than my 38 years. My dark brown eyes were my best feature and I always emphasised them carefully with make-up, knowing just how expressive they could be.

Glancing down at my full breasts contained by a pink lacy bra, I slowly unclipped it and watched as they fell out, my nipples dark and large against my creamy skin. I stroked my breasts, imagining Mark doing it to me and swiftly removed my panties. Deciding I would shave and trim my pussy, I lay down on the bed and stroked my breasts again. The lunch with Mark had made me unbearably horny and I just had to satisfy myself.

My nipples were standing erect now as I closed my eyes and thought back to the lunch. How Mark had looked at me as we ate, how he had raised the glass of wine to my lips and made me drink. It was foreplay without a doubt and I knew that tonight we would be so good together.

I played with my breasts with one hand while with the other I reached down and stroked my wet pussy. My vagina ached so much and I needed to have something inside me so I opened the small bedside cabinet where I stored my vibrator, turning it on and gently touching my pussy lips with it. The feeling was electrifying and I moaned out loud in the silence of the villa as I teased myself with it, parting my lips with one hand and letting it pulsate against my clitoris. All the time I imagined Mark watching me and maybe stroking his cock as he did so.

By now I was drenched and I plunged the vibrator into my vagina and opened my legs wide. Turning up the intensity I thrust it in and out, one hand rubbing my clit rhythmically as I neared an orgasm that had been building since midday.

When the climax came, I cried out long and loud, glad that the villa was isolated with no close neighbours. My hair was damp and clinging to my forehead and I knew that I needed a shower and a swim followed by a nap. To be able to swim naked was one of my pleasures and I made my way out to the pool area where there was a shower room. The warm sun on my damp skin felt lovely and I relished the feeling of freedom as I stood beneath the gushing water, my view of the mountains uninterrupted, while the cool inviting pool awaited.

*

I awoke in the darkened bedroom and remembered where I was and what was about to happen. After my shower and swim I had read for a while before sleep claimed me. It was now 6pm and Mark was picking me up soon and I so wanted to look good for him. I had never slept with anyone other than my husband and I felt a nervous tingle run down my spine as I imagined what we would be doing in a couple of hours time.

I shaved my pussy carefully and took another long shower, massaging creamy soap into my skin before drying my body and rubbing in a rich moisturiser that smelt wonderful. I dried my hair and left it loose before applying the minimum of makeup, as the sun had warmed my face to a light bronze glow that highlighted the brown of my eyes and my dark lashes.

Picking my underwear carefully, I chose a white satin bra and white lacy panties before dressing in a long white dress that was gypsy in style and very pretty. I hoped Mark would appreciate it.

Pouring myself a glass of wine I sat on the terrace and wrote some notes on my laptop, feeling slightly guilty at spending such an indulgent afternoon. I loved to write and wine was one of my passions and I made myself promise to get on with the work tomorrow and make the trip to the vineyard.

The sound of a powerful engine brought me back to reality and I saved my work and closed my laptop as Mark stepped out of his car. He was freshly showered too and smelt gorgeous as we kissed a welcome.

"You look beautiful," he murmured into my hair as he pulled away and looked at me. "So pretty, Janie." I laughed at the informal use of my name and he grinned. "I thought I would try calling you that and see what you said."

I smiled and he opened the car door. Inside, the leather seats were cool to the touch and soon we were heading towards the range of mountains that formed a backdrop to the coast. The sun was sinking behind them and Mark abruptly turned off the road onto a small track that wound its way up into the hills, an occasional farmhouse blending into the background while sheep grazed the tiny fields.

"I bought this house after I divorced, " Mark told me. "It has no bad memories for me and I've decorated it in my style without any of my wife's influence."

I could see a large stone-built house in the distance surrounded on three sides by trees, tiny lights just beginning to twinkle in the dusk. I realised as I gazed at the view that I hadn't felt this happy in ages. Mallorca was working its old magic and I knew then that I had made the right decision to come here for a while rather than face the anxiety at home.

Mark slowed the car as he swept through a set of iron gates and onto an immaculately kept driveway bordered by almond trees. A gravelled parking area lay in front of the house which was old with shuttered windows and pale cream woodwork.

"Oh Mark, it's beautiful," I sighed as he came around to open the car door for me. "Does anyone live here with you?"

"My dog Ella and that's it. I like having lots of friends and family to stay."

I followed him into the cool of the house, our steps echoing on the stone floors, the decor very masculine but elegant nonetheless.

"I'll show you the pool first and then the cellars. We can then have something to eat and drink."

Behind the house lay the pool lit by hundreds of tiny lights. A curved terrace followed the lines of the pool and in the distance I could see a long table with chairs under a vine-covered gazebo. Lawns of lush grass stretched into the distance and the mountains seemed to loom over us, their beauty visible in the falling light.

"The cellar is this way," said Mark descending a short flight of stone steps to a lower level where there were a set of curved wooden doors. Taking a key from his pocket he unlocked the doors and led the way inside, flicking a light-switch which suddenly illuminated a huge cellar, rack upon rack of wine lined up against the walls.

"What do you think?"

I stood still and breathed in deeply. The scent of wine lay heavily in the air combined with a woody smell from two huge barrels that lay near the entrance doors. In the middle of the cellar was a large wooden table with a tray of glasses and various corkscrews.

"This is heaven," I breathed looking around again. "It's so beautiful."

Mark moved away from the doors and stood behind me, wrapping both arms around my waist and drawing me closer. He kissed my hair and the back of my neck while I leaned back into him enjoying the warmth of his body and the feel of his erection through the thin cotton material of my dress. Soon, his hands left my waist and I could feel him lean down and lift the hem of my dress, his hands travelling slowly up the length of my legs getting ever closer to my waiting pussy which ached to feel his touch. By now my dress was bunched around my waist and Mark's fingers were gently stroking the cheeks of my bottom through my knickers. It felt so good, his slow rhythmic movements as he massaged my firm skin and I shuddered.