At the end of a day of too much sun and water, the sun starts to set. Although the day was hot, the air cools off quickly as the sun sets over the far edge of the lake.
We walk hand and hand, at dusk, down to a secluded spot in the rocks. There, just as stones throw from the waters edge, I have pre-built a fire for us. I bend to strike a match to the dry kindling, you spread out the blankets that we have brought with us. As the wood takes flame, I watch you as you tug the corners of the blankets, trying to tease the wrinkles out of the material. I lovingly watch your jeans go tight across your butt, as you kneel and reach for a stubborn corner, your breasts straining the rough flannel of your shirt.
With our backs against a large rock we can feel the heat of its rough surface on our backs and the dampness of the evening air on our faces. As the sun starts to set, the birds start to roost and their calls of good night create a symphony for our enjoyment.
Now that the fire is well engaged, we sit on the blankets, hip to hip, one of your legs over mine, my arm around your shoulder, your hand in mine, resting on our thighs.
Night descends up us.
As we sit our bodies mold together, the birds cease their score, the crickets take over and the night air is pierced by their chirps, harmonized with the gentle sounds of the lake lapping onto the shore.
The stars start to emerge, slowly at first then more and more until the sky is ablaze with the twinkle of diamonds.
The fire has burned down to embers, casting a red glow, spreading its warmth outward and dispelling the coolness and dampness from our little circle.
I rise and put fresh logs on the fire, causing a little cyclone of sparks to circle upward, the smell of wood smoke swirls mingling with the smell of the lake. The parched heat of the embers is blistering on my hand and face causing me to draw back.
Newly alight, the light of the flames casts shadows of light and dark across your face. Your eyes are sparkling and the tip of your nose is lightly brown from the days sun. The wind and water has your hair all tussled and mussed so you have it pulled back, framing your face.
I regain my seat beside you. My hand seeks out yours and we look into the flames as sparks soar skyward.
I lean over and kiss the top of your head and taste the scent of sunshine and wood smoke. My hand leaves yours and touches your chin, tilting your head back, letting me look deeply into your eyes. I kiss you gently on the tip of your sun burnt nose. I draw back and see a look of contentment in your eyes, a look of desire, of yearning. I lean down again, and brush my lips against yours. My lips part slightly and my tongue darts out, only to find your tongue. They tease each other, tasting, sampling, and wrestling each other. Your lips close around mine and you inhale, trying to draw me deeper into you.
Our hands start to unbutton each others shirts, we shrug them off carelessly. Unzipped jeans have us laughing at each other as feet become stuck in the legs in our rush to discard them. We struggle to keep our balance as we keep kissing each other.
Under the light of the new moon now in the sky, I see you in your lavender bra and panties, contrasting against your newly tanned skin, enhanced by the red glow of the dying fire.
Kneeling now, I'm behind you and wrap my arms around you and draw you close, your skin warm from the fire. Nuzzling your neck, I take in your scent of rose and sunshine, my hands resting on your hips. As you lean back in to me, I reach up and undo your bra, slip the straps from your shoulders and let it fall to the blanket. I trace the outline of your breasts. Under them, around them. I cup each one, lifting it, feeling its weight. Your nipples are pink rosettes that start to swell in the cool evening air.
