It was late as I ran for the train. My thoughts still on our time we spent together, our stolen weekend in your bush hut. As I ran for the train, warm droplets of sweat formed on my body, as I vividly recalled out hot weekend of sweet love.
I made the last train home just in time. Alighting the train, my eyes searched for an empty seat. I walked passed a few farmers probably back from an auction, some women with their laps full of parcels, and a couple of teenagers returning to Melbourne after visiting their families. I walked though to the next carriage, deserted except for a young man and an elderly gentleman. I slumped into the back seat, my overnight bag at my feet.
The heat intense, our Aussie summer in full swing, I removed the jacket I had been wearing to save carrying it. My jacket bringing back so many wonderful memories of this weekend, when you gently laid me down outside the hut, using it as a pillow for my head. Memories of how we made love over and over, sweet sex filling the air mixing with the perfume of the wild flowers.
Sitting on the train my eyes wandered outside, as I watched the Aussie bush rush past, the golden wattle shining majestically in the sun, the sounds of the kookaburra laughing at the clatter of the train over the old bush tracks. My hand reached for my jacket, and as hot as it was on the train, I brought it to face, the smell of you still lingering. Closing my eyes, I felt my body warmed as I recollected the memories of you this weekend.
In my day dream I saw us naked, laying outside on the blanket, the old gum tree willowing gently about our bodies, shading us from the sun. The clatter of the train now distant in my mind, I allowed my thoughts to slip back to the weekend. My body began to warm as I saw you come to me naked, your manhood excited. I recalled how you gently caressed me, your hands running over my body as your eyes consumed me. I could almost feel your lips on my breasts, kissing them exciting my nipples, as you gently took them between your teeth, and your other hand slowly ran over my legs, tenderly opening them. As I sat on the train my hips began to rock slowly, as I relived my excitement .
My legs had slipped open and my hand was gliding over them, my short skirt high on my legs. I suddenly opened my eyes, feeling somewhat embarrassed as the young man walked passed me on his way to the rest room of the train. He was standing there smiling, obviously enjoying the sight. Smiling back I turned covering myself with my jacket, my gaze quickly to the window watching the sparse land, the kangaroos jumping as if racing the train. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the young man walk past, taking up a seat just ahead of me on the opposite side of the carriage. He sat down casually and returned to his novel.
