Miss was working from home. She stretched in the hard-backed wooden chair. Her phone blooped.
Lunch?
She smiled.
Thanks, 10 minutes
, she replied.
I was out in front with the motorcycle, waiting for her. She stepped into the sunlight. I felt weak in the knees and had to hold on to my bike for support. Her long dark hair fell over her shoulder. I could see her sparkling blue eyes reflect the sun and sky. She wore just dark enough, but not too dark, red lipstick that made her lips, those luscious, delicious lips, the highlight of her face, offset as they were by her alabaster skin. A man's white dress shirt buttoned up to the next to last button, shone brilliantly as it exposed her lovely jugular notch. A light gray, Angora sweater was draped over her shoulders covering her arms and handbag. It did nothing to hide her lovely breasts as they gracefully displaced the shirt. The shirt was, of course, tucked into a pair of skin-tight black jeans. She was wearing modest heels today. She smiled when she saw the bike and I melted.
"Where to?" she asked.
"Surprise," I replied as I stowed her handbag and handed her her leather jacket, gloves, and helmet. I stiffened in my pants as I watched her mount the bike, always my favorite moment, stretching those jeans over her very fine ass. I rode out carefully in the traffic appreciating greatly the feel of her hands on my waist. At a red light, she reached a hand inside my jacket and tweaked a nipple. My dick nearly poked a hole in the gas tank.
We went to a nearby park where I had scouted a secluded knoll where we would be undisturbed. I parked and steadied the bike for her graceful dismount. That ass! She watched as I opened one side case and raised one eyebrow when I pulled out a couple of blankets. Her eyes widened when I opened the top case and pulled out a large picnic basket. I carried our lunch and escorted her to a tall oak tree surrounded by dense bushes.
I spread the olive green, army blanket under the tree. I watched, with a lump in my heart, as she sat gently on the blanket and leaned against the tree folding her stems, gracefully under her.
I sat opposite her, momentarily paralyzed by her beauty. I opened the basket and pulled out two placemats and two sets of silverware. I set our places and then poured her a glass of a lightly flavored seltzer that was, remarkably, still cold and fresh from its time in the freezer.
I pulled out a small Tupperware of homemade guacamole and a small bag of thin crackers. I watched, hypnotized, as she served herself with long, graceful fingers. I couldn't move as she opened her mouth to eat. Absolute grace. I didn't want to embarrass her by staring so I forced myself to eat.