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Have you ever sat just looking at the sunset? I have, often. It's one of those moments in life which is fine alone, better shared. Imagine a late summer evening, the sky is aflame and the warmth of the day has settled in your bones. Nothing spoils that time, ever. No matter what troubles you, it is insignificant for those moments between the heat of the day and the chill of the night.
You weren't really watching her. The party was ebbing, the barbecue cooling and there were more empty bottles than full. You were sitting alone, looking at the sky and holding a long-empty glass. You were sober but perhaps only just. You weren't watching her but you could see her. Her tall, slender body in that delicious black dress with her blonde hair tied back so it fell like a rope behind her. The dress was long and touched the grass where she stood talking to another girl, a woman. Her hands occasionally touched the other girl but it didn't matter because you weren't watching.
They separated and you looked up at the first stars that broke through the flame that was the sky. Now the colours were deep and had such warmth that you felt drowsy looking at them.
"Your glass is empty."
She looked down at you from beside your chair -- she held two full glasses and, smiling, offered one to you.
"I've probably had enough but thank you." You smiled up at her and took the glass, placing your empty on the table in front of you.
"We've all probably had enough. But it is a Friday night so it won't matter."
You could smell the sea, almost hear it just beyond the dunes that guarded it. She stood, just looking and smiling. Then she sat on the table and looked harder at you.
"Are you watching me?"
She grinned, "Yes, like you were watching me."
'I was not! I could see you but...'
Her finger touched your lip. "If you lie to me now, I will never talk to you again." Her finger lingered on your lip then slid into your mouth. 'Tell the truth.'
As her finger slid out you said, 'How did you know?' She nodded, apparently satisfied that you were no longer pretending even to yourself.
'Because, I was watching you.'
She smiled at you again as her finger traced your lips. She held her hand out to you and you took it. She pulled you and you stood and moved closer to her.
'Come and join us.'
She stood and led you, compliant as you were, to a group of her friends. She introduced you although you had no idea how she knew your name. They were fun and friendly and, like you, almost sober. You laughed and talked and you were involved, included, enveloped in their friendship. She talked to you and to others, occasionally catching your eye and smiling at you. The last tiny ray of the sun caught her hair and her eyes. God, those eyes.
You moved into the house, large and warm and you suddenly realised how cool it had become outside. You sipped slowly, reluctant to drink too much more but so enjoying the conviviality, the warmth and the sheer pleasure. You sank into a deep cushioned sofa and leant back into its embrace.
Later, much later, the party dissolved. People moved singly, in couples or in groups, leaving the room and slipping into the dark recesses of the house. You stood, looked around yourself and found that you were entirely alone. You went to the room you knew was yours, opened the door and, without turning the light on, entered, closing the door behind you. You stood in front of the window and looked out into the barely lit night as you slipped your dress off. You heard a movement and started to turn but-
"Stay still, please don't move." You gasped and stood still, afraid to move as you felt her warmth behind you, almost touching.
"I wondered if you were ever going to come."
Her hands touched your now bare shoulders, stroked down over your arms then up under them to cup your breasts as she kissed your neck. She licked and kissed your neck, preventing you from turning no matter how you wanted to. You felt the points of her nipples against your back. One hand released your breast and stroked your side, down to your panties, then followed the line of their silk to the front and, quite flat, rested there.
She turned you. You could see she was naked, entirely naked. Her eyes locked onto yours and she moved in close and you kissed. The kiss was deep and dark, like the night. Her tongue invaded you, her hands caressed you and your hands, wilful, scanned her body. You moved, though how, you do not remember, to lie beside each other on the cool cotton of the bed sheets. Her hair was undone now and lay spread across the white of the pillow. Her legs were linked with yours. She pulled you on top of her and wrapped her legs around you, pulling you to her core. You felt the damp of it or perhaps it was your damp you felt. You rocked and kissed and touched. Her fingers were by turns gentle, urgent, invading and you turned so she was above you, then beside you and then, you were inverted so your mouth was on her and hers on you. Her tongue visited the place where her fingers had been, tasting you, opening you. Your tongue slid over her puffy lips and spread them. You tasted her and buried your face there. Your tongue loved her little button, felt it grow and moisten as you lapped at it. You felt her hair on your skin and her lips kissing you. Her hands touched you everywhere, following or leading her tongue.
When you came it was with her mouth pressed to yours and her hand again between your legs, a finger or two curled up inside you. You moaned into her mouth and felt her moan back at you as she let her own orgasm overwhelm her. No time then, nothing but the two of you, deep inside each other.
She came out of the bathroom and the sunlight caught her hair. She dried her hair a little with a towel and then sat in the chair, quite naked, looking out onto the dunes that lay at the end of the garden. Her hand was between her thighs and she gently stroked herself.
