He flashed a smile as he sailed past another cyclist going the opposite direction. It was difficult not to smile on an evening like this, it felt special. The route, a riverside promenade, usually thronged with dog-walkers, ramblers and other cyclists, was practically empty. He could count on one hand the number of people he'd seen so far, including the Lycra-clad man he'd just passed, and that solitude suited him just fine.
The evening matched his mood, it was a warm summer night, the sky was a glorious vision of pinks, lilacs and blue, the dusk sunset casting long shadows and gorgeous hues. Birds chirped lazily, settling into warm nests as the sunset and dusk approached. The slow current of the river lapped gently up in foamy waves, soft whispers to accompany the birdsong. A summer breeze cooled most of his exertions on the bike, though not all, a light sheen of sweat still coated him, dampening the loose shirt he wore, but it was really no effort. On nights like these, the bike practically rode itself.
He rounded another corner and found himself facing a long stretch of emptiness. He had a feeling this might happen, it was late in the evening, late for most to be heading this way at this time. After all there was very little out there, just a couple of gorgeous spots to watch the water drift by and lose yourself for a while. So whilst he could imagine passing a few keen evening explorers coming back, he figured he wouldn't see many heading the same way. It looked like he was right.
He watched birds glide across the sunlit sky, silhouettes against the kaleidoscope of colour above. Their skyward dance resonated with him. Their freedom to fly wherever they liked matched the feeling he got from his bike on these evenings. Their effortlessly flight seemed close to his effortless ride, both cutting through the air, soaring forward towards different destinations. He adjusted his backpack, carrying a small assortment of food and a bottle of wine, as he shot along the path, each thrust of his powerful thighs driving him forward, propelling him closer to his destination.
Eventually he rounded a corner and he'd finally reached the spot he was looking for. He stepped off of his bike, a little lamenting of having to end his ride, and walked through a small gap in the trees beside the path, the trail wasn't exactly secret, but it was definitely less trodden than the promenade itself. He followed it's winding route, walking his bike beside him and eventually emerged in the clearing. It was tucked away in a thicket of oak and birch trees, a crescent of foliage and coverage that almost completely sheltered the spot from the path, though you could see it if you looked carefully. The other side of the grassy clearing opened out onto the water itself and offered a wonderfully secluded spot to take in the river's beauty.
Though quiet, it wasn't unusual to have to share it with a few others in the know, though he hadn't expected anyone at this point in the evening, let alone someone he knew. Yet there she was.
He felt something stir within him as his eyes trailed over her, an excitement and anticipation. What were the chances that she would be there? He was delighted to see her, somehow this perfect night had just gotten better. Would she be as happy to see him? Her own bike was propped up nearby and she was seated, reclining slightly, comfortably propped up on one arm as her other held a book.
He hoped so, though you didn't really come here for company. Side on, he didn't think she had seen him yet and he took the moment to let himself truly appreciate the sight of her. She was a vision on an evening like this, long blond hair hanging gracefully down her back, shining in the sun's ebbing glow. She was wearing a summery dress, light and delicate, her arms and legs bare, strong and slender, their pale skin bright in the warm light. Her body looked incredible, it always did.
He propped up his bike and unshouldered his pack, circling around he smiled mischievously and carefully tiptoed behind her until he was close. His steps were silent and soon he was in touching distance. He could smell her, bewitching and beautiful, her scent mixing wonderfully with those of the summer evening, fresh grass and wildflowers, their aromas awoken by the gentle heat of the sun.
He could hear her peaceful breathing and he watched over her shoulder as her chest rose and fell with each breath. The dress was cut low enough to offer a generous view of the curve of her natural breasts and, though he chided himself for it, he found himself unable to resist letting his eyes linger there, enjoying the gentle curve of her soft skin. She wasn't wearing a bra either.
Realising that he probably shouldn't just stare for the rest of the evening, he bent slowly and gently placed his hand on her bare shoulder. As his fingertips touched her naked skin, he felt a quick surge of energy bolt through his body and he breathed deep, calming himself, trying to control the ever growing flame inside of him. Surprisingly, she didn't startle.
"I saw you before you know," she turned to look at his hand, still on her shoulder and then looked up to him with a mischievous smile of her own. That smile both disarmed him and set his pulse racing at the same time. "You're not as quiet as you think."
"Clearly!" he laughed and let his hand fall from her shoulder, his fingertips tracing over her soft skin as he did. "What a delight of a surprise! Mind if I join you at all?" he asked. "I have some wine to share." he added with a smile.
She laughed, and nodded. "A girl couldn't refuse such a generous offer could she?"
He felt a surge of anticipation swell inside of him. She was happy to see him as well. He took a seat on the grass picking a spot close to her, almost intimately close, but she didn't seem to mind.
He unpacked the bag, placing everything out beside them and cracked open the red wine. She watched as the ruby liquid sloshed into the plastic cup he'd brought with him, he'd only brought one after all, and graciously accepted the cup as he offered it to her first.
"Too kind," she nodded in appreciation before taking a generous sip of the wine, luxuriating in it's rich taste on her tongue and lips before letting it slip down her throat, "well chosen too" she smiled. She took another sip and then passed the cup back to him, her eyes met his as their fingers touched on the vessel, another surge of energy raced through him. She felt it too.
He could see the same excitement sparkling within her glacial blue eyes that he felt within himself. He took a sip to calm himself again, savouring the wine, letting it rest on his tongue before swallowing it down. "It's not bad is it?" he replied, then felt the boozy kick of its strength "powerful though!" He passed it back again and their fingers touched once more, their eyes locked again, fire dancing within them.
"It certainly is," she replied with a wry smile. It was clear what she meant.
The air was thick with a tension even more intoxicating than the wine, growing each time they touched. They carried on this way for a while, sharing the food, refilling the cup whenever it emptied. The cup was somehow a symbol for the dance they clearly both longed for, that seemed almost inevitable now.
Its movement, their gentle touches, composing the anticipation and the moment so beautifully. With each passing of it, their touches lingered, fingertips entwined for a moment before parting. His hand sometimes affectionately reached to her shoulder or arm as they talked, she felt tingling sensation each place he touched her soft skin, fingertips barely tracing across her flesh.
Occasionally she rested a hand on his leg, her touch against the denim stoked the fire within him every time, he could feel himself growing, straining against the tight fit of his jeans, bulging between his legs, not blatantly but certainly not subtly, if she'd looked she'd have seen. He realised with a smile that he wanted her to.
The sun was slowly setting and the shadows lengthened along with their touches, bathing the clearing in the light you only found at sunset. The alcohol danced through their bodies, an enchanting waltz with their desire, twisting and winding the tension into a deliciously tight knot. A binding of desperate need, the kind they could only unravel together with hungry mouths, biting teeth and frantic hands, carnal instinct the only thing that could sate the ever-growing passion within them.
The air felt like it fizzed and crackled with anticipation and sexual energy, all it needed was a spark to ignite into white hot fervour. That spark came when she reached for him once more.
This time her hand fell higher up his leg, fingers against the denim on his thigh. Unlike before her touch lingered, he turned to her and saw her with an impish smile, eyes down, fixed on the straining bulge between his legs, his breath quickened.