Debra gave a watery laugh. “Bully.” She took the tissue. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Blow.”
The silly conversation was the beginning of a chatty, companionable half hour. Debra accepted a glass of wine and snuck a glance or three in the direction of Braam’s groin. He glanced down to where she looked. The hard ridge of his cock was clearly outlined under the cargo shorts he wore and he grinned ruefully.
“Seems to be a usual state of affairs when I get close to you. It’s somewhat unusual for me and I’m all over thrilled. Except when I’m in a meeting and even thinking of us gets me like this. Then I’m glad of a table to sit at or a large file to put in my lap.”
“Aw, poor thing.” Debra rested on one elbow and smiled at him. The scents and perfumes of the shrubs and flowers filled the air and vied with her subtle scent.
He resolved there and then he would never forget this place and this moment in time. Stretched out in the sunshine opposite Debra and simply enjoying it. No timetable, no lists, got to do, watch the clock, hurry up. Just there that moment. “I can’t do anything in a meeting, but I think I have a solution for the here and now.”
Debra moved to settle in a position the mirror of his own. “Oh, do you? What’s that then?”
“Well…” Braam wriggled closer. “You see… Oh, bugger.”
“Oh, shit.”
Big fat raindrops fell out of the sky and rapidly increased in frequency. Braam stood up and pulled Debra to her feet. Even though the rain was warm, Debra shivered. Braam stamped down on his own chill. Talk about cooling your ardor.
“Quick, grab the tablecloth and put it on the ground between those two bushes. This rug has a waterproof cover and I’ll flip it to make a makeshift cover. We don’t have time to get anywhere undercover. It’s only a shower and will soon pass, but it’ll be heavy.”
She could vouchsafe for that. As Debra lifted the tablecloth from the grass, her top was already damp. Much longer and she’d be soaked. She walked across the now slippery surface to the place Braam had indicated. By some quirk of nature the bushes had almost closed the gap between then, but left a space beneath, practically big enough for two people as long as they were friendly.
Under their branches the ground was still fairly dry. She spread the tablecloth over the grass and wriggled backwards to help Braam.
“Stay there, there’s no point in us both getting soaked.” Braam maneuvered the blanket onto the top of the shrubs and somehow fastened it. Inside the tiny shelter, the air seemed warmer and the atmosphere intimate. Braam thrust his T-shirt at Debra and went back to their picnic spot to gather the wine and glasses, her holdall and his backpack. He passed her everything he’d picked up and backed into the shelter.
Raindrops glistened in his hair and water ran down his chest. The sea was hidden behind clouds and Debra judged the temperature had dropped a good few degrees.
“Brr, damned storms. At least it’ll soon pass over and we can head for the village.” Braam shook his head and water flew everywhere. Debra gasped and shivered as the cold liquid sprinkled over her. “Oh, shit, sorry. Hold on, let me get my jumper out of my pack for you to put on.”
She shook her head. “No need, I’ve got a fleece in mine. You need yours anyway.” Debra touched his shoulder. “Hell’s bells, Braam, you’re freezing. Get dry and warm. I wish we had coffee, but seriously I never even thought about that. Not here at this time of the year.”
Braam picked up his T-shirt and pulled it on. “This’ll help. And so will this.” He rummaged in his backpack and took out a dark gray sweatshirt. “Shove over a sec.”
Debra watched as he spread the sweatshirt where she’d sat. With a grin, she turned and knelt over her holdall and pulled out one almost identical. “Snap. Shove over a sec.” She pushed him, so he did as she’d asked and set her own sweatshirt next to his. “What next? Ah I know.” Debra opened the tiny zipped pocket in lining and took out a foil packet. “This. I bet we could warm each other somehow. Especially if we use everything we have available to us.”
Braam lay back and put his hands under his head and kept his legs bent at the knees. It didn’t look that comfortable. “I do like a lady who thinks of everything. I think I’ll leave it up to you to decide what happens next.” He seemed totally at ease with his decision.
Debra knelt backward onto her ankles and tilted her head to one side. “Maybe if you took your shorts off you could use them as a pillow instead of your hands,” she said. “Because I have a much better job for your hands later.”
He looked at her, considering. “You do it.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. Debra took it to mean either she did as he said or nothing else would happen. She didn’t want that.
The space they were in was tiny. If Braam stretched out properly, he’d be lucky to keep his feet dry. The rain still came down and splattered off the branches and blanket, creating soft sounds of life-giving water. Debra took a deep breath to take in the scents of damp earth and damp man. Different but both oh so good.
The intimate area was going to create some interesting strategies. Debra kicked off her shoes. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally kick him, but at least if her feet were bare it shouldn’t hurt as much. She didn’t tell him how clumsy she was reckoned to be. She shuffled on her knees until she was a hair’s breadth away from Braam and undid the belt that presumably held his shorts up. He moved one hand and stroked her neck. It seemed to be a favorite thing of his to do, to touch her like that. Debra realized it was fast becoming one of her favorites as well.
“If you do that, you’ll distract me and I’ll forget what I’m supposed to be doing,” she said.
“No you won’t. It’ll concentrate your mind.”
True.
“No, I won’t.” She repeated his words. “It will concentrate my mind. See? Concentrated.” She tugged the zip until it was wide open. “Lift your arse so I can complete my task.”
Braam laughed and grunted as he lifted his rear. “This is not easy without any leverage.”
“Ah, well, practice makes perfect.” Debra pulled the shorts over Braam’s legs and folded them carefully. “Here you are. Your pillow, m’lord.”
He bent his head in a parody of a bow. “Well, thank you kindly. May I ask what next?”
“This.” Debra hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled them downward. As they snagged on his erect cock, she paused. “Oh, my, what now. I seem to have a problem.” She let her hands brush the sides of his dick and slowly slid them up and down.
“I’m sure you are incredibly good at problem solving.” His cock swayed within her touch
Debra used one thumb and forefinger to circle it.
“Ah, oh, yes, that sure is a great start.”
Braam sat up suddenly. “Now I think I’ll help us along.” He lifted her hands out of his boxers, shucked them himself, and pulled his T-shirt off so swiftly Debra hardly had time to blink. Then Braam lifted her top over her shoulders and put her into the space he’d so recently occupied. Her top had a built-in bra and his soft, triumphant laugh was music to her ears.
The tablecloth was warm under her back, as Braam lifted her head and gave her the makeshift pillow to rest on.
The kiss to her nipple was short, sharp and oh so sweet. That part of her skin rapidly became hotter than the rest of her. The state of affairs changed within seconds as Braam took off her cut-offs and pressed a heated kiss over the lace that covered her pussy.
“Such a sexy, teasing arousing sight. That beautiful pussy hidden in such an enticing way.”
The whispered words made every penny she’d spent in the exclusive lingerie boutique worthwhile. The way he drew the lacy undies over her pussy and ass and down her legs, was almost reverential and the tiny kisses he followed in the path of the lace both tickled and made her squirm in arousal. Her pussy was damp and her vagina muscles were practicing their ‘let me hold you, let me play with you, come into me’
routine.
Braam spread her legs and settled between them. If it were still raining, he’d have a wet lower half.
When he lowered his head and licked and sucked her clit and pussy, Debra was damned sure she was wet as well.
He tugged her hard nub into his mouth and gently scraped his teeth over the skin. Debra arched into his mouth. “Oh, shit, I’ll come again and I want to come with you inside me.”
Braam lifted his head.
Damn, he didn’t have to move so fast.
“Oh, I think you can manage to come now and when I’m in you. Look.” He bent his head again and circled his tongue around the entrance to her channel. He pushed the tip of his tongue inside and bit the soft skin at the entrance.
Debra screamed and moved her head from side to side, to catch and hold that indefinable something that was just out of reach. Then she found it. Her movements increased. It was mind blowing and she couldn’t have stopped her climax if she’d tried. She didn’t try. Waves and waves of heat flowed through her.
“Now, for goodness’ sake. Come in me now.”
“Oh, yes.”
Stings and tingles caressed and teased her skin as he plunged into her. Braam set up a fast and furious rhythm and Debra met him thrust for thrust. Each push, each nudge and every grunt she heard made her heart swell and its beat increase. He bent his head and bit her nipple before laving it with his tongue. The pain was swift and sent an immediate line of heat to her clit.
Her mind went blank. Coherent thought disappeared as she rode the waves of ecstasy.
How long she was in the throes of her arousal, Debra had no idea. When she finally stopped shuddering and opened her eyes, her head was on Braam’s chest, which she noted with satisfaction was heaving like a tugboat in a gale.
“Whew.” What an insipid exclamation for something so out of the world. Sadly her tired brain couldn’t come up with anything less mundane.
“Yeah.” As ever, Braam played with her hair and stroked her cheek and throat.
She’d have to ask him if in the lieu of worshiping toes, he had a fetish about her head instead. Later.
“You complete me, Deb. I can’t think of any other way to say it.”
Those simple words made her swell up and sniff. “Oh, my. And you me.”
He cuddled her closer. “Just as well.” He was silent for a moment and Debra was content to stay as they were. “Listen, it’s stopped raining. We’d better make a move before the next storm rolls in. There might not be another convenient place to shelter and we don’t want to get all soaked and have a damp ferry ride back.”
Debra giggled as she reluctantly moved off his chest and sat up. She looked around and found her top.
“Oh, that’s okay. I have a raincoat.”
Braam stared at her. “You do? That’s good because so do I. Great minds and all that.”
It seemed they were in harmony in more ways than one.
* * * *
Once Braam had dismantled the makeshift shelter and packed everything away, it took next to no time to regain the track and continue on their way.
Once more the sun was out and the humidity hit them hard.
“I wish that I’d bought one of those fans you put round you forehead.” Debra waved her hand in front of her face like a fan. “And I wish we could have left our wee hidey hole as it was.” She spoke in a wishful tone. “You know, as a perpetual reminder of a fantastic rainstorm.”
“And have every chancing it youth of Lamma getting up to God knows what there?” Braam was more prosaic. “As it is, no one goes there because it’s off the beaten track and there are easier, more comfortable places for them to make out. Best to leave it as is. Then when we’re old and gray we can find it again and relive our memories.”
Debra laughed, even though her pulse jumped. Was it a good sign? An omen he was talking about when they were old? Or was it a generalization? She wasn’t going to ask.
“With our Zimmers and saying things aren’t like they were in our younger days?”
“Probably. Look, here’s the lad with the ice lollies. Want one?”
The lollies were eaten as they walked down the hill. The youth, who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, had entreated them to buy two each, as he said the rain had made business slow. Braam had laughingly declined, but nevertheless Debra was sure Braam had paid over the going rate.
He denied it as they exchanged bites. Debra had asked for lime, Braam had gone for lemon.
“I paid what they were worth,” he said. “No more, no less. Look.” He pointed down the track to where a sliver of sand showed. “If we cross that and get into the village proper, there’s a plethora of restaurants to try. But…” He paused. “Do you trust me?”
Debra wasn’t sure why—or what exactly—he was asking. “Of course. Well, unless you’re going to tell me you have a wife and six kids or you have a bridge to sell me. Why?”
“None of those.” He flicked her nose with his finger. “It’s six wives and one kid and seven bridges.”
“Oh, no problem then. What’s up?”
“I know a great restaurant, but it’s Indian food. Moz does a great mutton curry to friends. What do you say?”
Debra swore she salivated. Mutton curry. Oh, joy.
“I say, yes please, please.”
“Sorted. Five minutes, come on.”
Braam dragged her—there was no other word for it—past tourist shops, stalls selling fast foods and the odd leaflet peddler until they turned off the main street and into a square next to the water.
“Here.” He pushed open a door painted in a myriad of colors and Debra smelled heaven.
“Hey, Moz, can you feed two weary walkers?” Braam dragged her inside. “Outside, so I can romance my lady with sweet nothings and seduce her with your food?” Braam hugged the tall Indian who had him in a death grip.
“Moz, man, don’t kill me. What would my lady do then?”
Moz guffawed. It was a sound Deb hadn’t heard for ages. A mix of the braying of a donkey and the squeal of a pig whose feed had been removed.
“Come to me, of course.” He released Braam who winced and rubbed his chest. Debra wasn’t entirely sure the gesture was theatrical. “Hello, Braam’s lady. You are welcome here. Um, I hope you like curry?”
“Love it.”
Moz swept her into his arms and bent her backward. It was so theatrical and so stupid Debra giggled.
He straightened and thrust her into Braam’s arms. “Here, you have her. She doesn’t appreciate me.”
“And Sukhjinder wouldn’t appreciate you molesting my woman.”
Moz spread his hands out. “So true, and as she is in the kitchen behind several Karahi, here is your lady. Unmolested. The table on the left is for you.” He waved toward the terrace. “It is under the cover if it’s needed.”
Debra looked at the sky as a young girl escorted them to their table. If she were a betting woman, she’d say it was odds on the cover would be needed. The sky was a sullen amber color and the hills looked dark and menacing.
All of a sudden she was glad they’d come down from the hill when they had and not purely because she was hungry.
Braam held her chair out for her and made sure he was back onto the outside. A nasty little wind had sprung up and teased the tablecloths. Moz bustled around with weights and table securers.
Braam gestured toward him. “He knows something we don’t.”
As if the words were a key, the heavens opened and within seconds the waiters sprang into action. Rain bounced like ping pong balls across the concrete square. The side curtains were rolled down and secured and the water was kept out.
Debra had wondered why the tables and chairs were raised up on pallets. Now she knew. Under them the water created streams as it rushed though the courtyard and to the harbor.
On the other side of the square, like a beautifully choreographed corps de ballet, the stallholders rolled large sheets of plastic over their wares then ret
reated under them to chat and smoke.
It was obviously well-practiced and a break from the mundane. The few tourists not sensible enough to take shelter splashed their way to the ferry terminus and those that had tried to seek shelter at Moz’s were soon disappointed by the lack of tables. It wasn’t over large.
Moz bustled toward their table with a carafe of wine, two glasses and a tray of poppadums and accompaniments. Debra looked at Braam. She didn’t remember ordering anything
“Moz knows my tastes,” Braam said when his friend had rushed away to tell yet more people there was no space. “I said we’d have whatever he decided on, because otherwise goodness knows when we’d eat. He’s a bit busy.”
That was the understatement of the century. Moz and his waiters rushed around like dervishes and served, cleared, chatted and Debra determined, generally made every customer feel favored.
Braam poured the wine.
“We never ever got our wine earlier,” he said as they clinked glasses in a toast. “But I reckon we toasted each other anyway.” He winked. “Cheers.”
Debra almost chocked in the mouthful she had taken. Talk about innuendo.
“Ch-cheers,” she said and swallowed her wine in a hurry. “Er, ooh, look here’s our food.”
“Saved by the tray?” Braam asked in a humorous tone.
“You bet.”
“Then let’s eat.” Braam sat back whilst the waiter explained all the dishes then waved to Deb. “Help yourself, love. It will all be good.”
She needed no more urging. He was right, it was good. More than good.
“Sheesh, I’m stuffed. How on earth will I be able to walk to the ferry?” Debra put her knife and fork down and sat back. “That was superb.”
“Waddle with me. I always feel like that after eating here.” Braam looked out of the plastic window. The rain was still falling like sheets of water. “Or paddle.” He forked the last of his mutton curry and looked at the woman across the table. Her eyes were bright, her expression one of total satisfaction and she puffed her cheeks out and patted her tummy. He knew exactly what she meant. Moz’s portions were never small and Braam was convinced the ones served to him were always bigger than most.
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