Summer's crucible made gravity of the falling day, dragging the heat of the afternoon down upon me like a wool blanket. My hair, perfect when I left the house, had fallen down around my brow in a tangle of curls and waves; roguish but not what I had intended. Sweat streaked my green shirt black and made a shimmering haze of my skin. The wind was utterly absent – not even a moaning sigh to caress away the swelter.
It was worth it, though, the waiting. She was coming for me on her machine and there needn't be wind at 55 miles per hour to wick the fire from our skin.
One of many things motorcycles are good for,
I thought.
She came around the bend in a steady arc, wearing the sunset like a halo about her helmet. I felt joy whelm within me as she drew closer, and my hands involuntarily clenched at the grass upon which I sat as thoughts of her body slid across my mind. My fingers had grown familiar with her form, and there was a devouring need to play her passions like an instrument until she sang for me. Unrelenting even in the face of a neutral moment, I felt something below my belt twitch in anticipation.
"Hello, beautiful." I enjoyed greeting her as such because it provoked a shy smile that stood in stark counterpoint to the predatory thoughts shining through her eyes. True to form, she bloomed like a flower for me, beaming as brightly as the circle of sun behind her.
I gripped her wind-cool face in both hands and pulled her mouth to mine, savoring the little moan she let out as our tongues briefly touched.
"Miss me?"
"Terribly," she breathed, pressing her mouth to mine as if drawing life-giving air from my lungs. Her hands pressed into my chest as she leaned off her bike, tiny nails catching in the fabric of my shirt. I pulled gently on her hair, twisting her face around so I could kiss more deeply. Her body complied hungrily, bending into mine with a grateful sigh.
I broke away suddenly, swinging behind her and placing my hands around her waist as she pouted audibly.
"Tease!"
"Perhaps," I whispered, pressing my mouth to the nape of her neck, "perhaps not."
She let a tiny pant pass her lips before smiling and twisting the throttle. We rolled gently toward the sunset, my fingers twined into her belt loops, ostensibly for support, and the world a shade more cheerful through the yellow plastic shielding my eyes from the ripping wind.
* * *
I could feel the soak of arousal in the fabric on her thighs well before she began to slow the bike and look for a place to pull off. The forest loomed dark and welcoming on both sides of the winding road, picnic tables and the occasional fire pit studding the groomed meadows. Twilight nestled against the Earth, coercing the fireflies to their tiny dances and shading the sunset in cool, azure tones. Stars began to peak out from behind thin cloud cover, winking back at the insects flashing lust to one another amid the deepening night.
"Kiss me," she demanded, walking me backward away from the bike and pressing into me with her heat. "Don't stop kissing me."
I staggered back, fumbling with a free hand and fetching up against a tree as she began pulling at my belt. I laughed into her open mouth and bit her bottom lip, eliciting a moan as I slid my hands down her back and into her jeans. No panties. Must have become tired of doing so much laundry after being near me. No matter; she struggled with the belt – the one she hated for me to wear for specifically this reason – and it gave me an opportunity to quickly unsnap the front of her pants with my right hand.
A set of headlights swept briefly across us and she stiffened, momentarily panicking as the shroud of darkness was pulled aside, laying bare the raw passion of the moment.
"I don't thin-"
I stifled her concerns with another crushing kiss, spinning and pressing her into the tree even as I slid her jeans down around her thighs. She trembled as my fingers found the ring in her clit and she abandoned her misgivings in the wash of a gushing orgasm. Another car drove by, headlights sweeping across my exposed back (she had pulled my shirt off moments earlier) like a camera flash, capturing another frame of carnal interplay like an aimless photographer.