It's raining. Of course, it's raining. It's been raining for a week. When we looked at the forecast on Friday, it said sunny and warm. It's not sunny or warm. It's raining. We made plans to go on a picnic today, but it's raining.
We decide to have a picnic anyway. I start the fire; she goes into the kitchen to make something yummy. We have a picnic blanket, but I want to use something softer. I have a royal blue throw that she loves. It's soft to the touch and makes her skin look as if she is made of nothing but the finest chocolate.
She comes back into the den with a picnic basket, a bottle of wine on ice and two wine glasses. "Since we're not driving." She says with a smile. "Lovely idea." She's wearing jeans with holes in the knees, when that became the style it made my head hurt, they look good on her. They're low rise and they show her belly some. She's curvier than she wants to be, but I think she's stunning. Her off the shoulder rose colored sweater lets me know she's not wearing a bra. Ample breasts, waiting to be devoured.
She sits across from me. She's so beautiful. She pours a glass of wine for the both of us. I look in the basket. Apples, strawberries, cheese, crackers and caramel sauce. "Caramel sauce?" "For the fruit!" She gives me a shy smile. It's my favorite.
We sit back and get lost in our own thoughts as the rain beats down on the house. I lay on my back listening to the fire. I hear her move, I don't look to see what she's doing, I'm lost in thoughts of having her in my mouth. I take a sip of wine.