The soft, cool breeze blew through her long, light brown hair, as she looked at the seemingly frozen in time river waters, nothing was moving but the rustling of the leaves, the tall grass being swooped by the early autumn wind. Vivid images overwhelmed her mind, as she pictured the past and the future—for once, there was no present—the wrongdoings, the sins, the committed mistakes that turned out to be the right moves.
The slowly brightening, ascending sun showered the river with its abundant light, reflecting on the now-orange waters, as the beams ran through her hair and gradually the early morning breeze subsided, the day grew warmer. Suddenly, alas!, footsteps were heard on the grass in the perfect silence of dawn and her heart palpitated; she turned about, flushed in the face, and a smile capable of overshadowing the sun cracked up her lips.
"Hey, Mira," he said with a broad smile revealing his perfect white teeth contrasting his brown skin.
"Hi," she said, yet again mesmerized by his tall, athletic body, his wide shoulders, his big arms, his handsome, yet somewhat rough too, clean-shaven face and buzz cut hair.
He sat next to her, putting his arm tenderly around her shoulders, sheltering her from the cool wind; she rested her head on his shoulder, a faint sigh escaping her mouth.
"So, how you've been?" He asked, after they both had lit a cigarette.
"Don't ask," she replied in a hazy voice, her attention focused on the slowly burning cigarette between her fingers.
They remained silent for a little while longer, smoking their cigarettes in peaceful contemplation, safe in their tight, warm embrace.
Unable to help herself, she lifted her gaze and marveled over his chiseled, calm face staring dead ahead at the river, and she smiled anew; it was wrong, she reminded herself, and yet, for the past two years she could not stop herself from coming down to the river, in the outskirts of their little rural town.
"You know," he said in a semi-dreamy voice, his glance still fixed on the river, "I often dream of us getting a small boat and sail through the river, let the stream take us wherever it wants—as long as it's someplace new."
"You know it cannot happen," she scolded him, albeit in jest and with guilt swarming her heart.
"That doesn't mean I can't dream about it."
"Besides, I don't understand why you're still here, with me; you could go to the big cities, make a life for yourself. Young women would swoon over you, you'd have the world at your feet..."
"We've talked about it," he dismissed her immediately, with warmth in his voice. "I don't want the high life, I don't want other women...I want you," he kissed her long and soft on the forehead.
"God, you can be so cliché at times," she giggled, letting her hand slip under his half-open shirt, gently caressing his hairless chest.
"Sue me," he chuckled, "for not being able to express myself in original, poetic words no one's ever thought of before."
"Fine," she sighed in resignation and, with a wide smile curling her soft, red lips, kissed him.
She pushed him down on his back on the damp grass, climbing atop of him and pinning him down, while accepting his tongue in her mouth, their small kiss turning long and passionate; she bit his lower lip and smiled at his soft moan, both her hands under his shirt, her fingertips gently running across his smooth skin.
He lifted her knee-high skirt over her hips, sturdily grabbing her buttocks, squeezing and pressing her thusly tighter on him, their lips still locked in a passionate kiss as he sucked on her tongue; they both opened their eyes momentarily and at the same time, staring into each other's soul, discerning the passion, the lust, the deep desire, as well as the inwardly hurtful knowledge of the forbidden nature of their actions.
Alas, at that very moment, they did not care; with a swift, smooth, gentle move he rolled her over on her back, lying between her open legs, still kissing her. He helped her out of her blouse and kissed the upper part of her bosom, gently lowering her brassiere, revealing her large, sensitive, light brown nipples.
He took her breast in her mouth, sucking on it, swirling his tongue around her nipple; causing shivers to run up and down her spine, as she tilted her head upwards with a loud, deep moan.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing his engorging crotch tighter on her, feeling him getting harder and more excited; the flames of passion were alit in her mind and soul, as he unbuckled her brassiere and tossed it aside. The still-blowing cool breeze tickled her soft skin, causing her nipples to get erect.
He softly moved his lips lower, kissing tenderly her stomach, continuing to move down to her waist, her pelvis...he unzipped her skirt and pulled it off of her, his smile expanding even further.
Mira bit her lips hard, when she first felt his kisses on her inner thighs; she was now naked on the grass, wearing only her low-heel pumps, and spread her legs wider, allowing him better access to her blooming womanhood.
She put her hand firmly on the back of his head, when he began kissing her pussy, his tongue running up and down her labia, causing shivers to traverse her body. His fingers gently touched her clit, softly stimulating it; she relaxed and bloomed, her body's temperature rising despite the cool early morning hours, and he let his tongue slip inside her, slowly moving it circularly, his face buried between her legs.
He was methodical, following the pattern perfected during two years, perfectly knowing which buttons to push and when and how; an inward smile beamed inside of him, when her trembling grew in intensity and her thighs were pressed tighter against his head, holding him locked down on her.
Her hand was on his head, holding him tight, as her moans grew louder and more intense, her body rocking from convulsions; she could feel his excitement too, as he swirled his tongue faster kissing her bloomed pussy passionately. She had his head trapped between her legs, fireworks exploded in her head and she squirted on his tongue and face.
He retracted his head, his face dripping and wearing a wide, beaming smile; he slithered up to her again, his steady, sturdy hand on her still convulsing cunt and kissed her fierily, letting her taste herself, as he thrust his tongue in her mouth.
Mira reached for his pants and unbuttoned him; her soft, small hand went in his pants and grabbed his turgid member. She rubbed it gently inside the pants, then, eagerly pulled it out.
His erect cock slapped her on the thigh and, while still fervently kissing her, he rubbed himself on her soft skin, slowly, but steadfastly, going for her dripping pussy; he rubbed the head on her, gently pushing, teasing her...
"No, not like this," she whispered in his ear, panting heavily. "Tell me you have..."
"Yes, of course," he nodded with a smile and sat up, searching his pockets.
