Fruits of the Vine

Gently, she placed her novel on the small weathered table beside her. Jarrah closed her eyes and tilted her heat back to feel the summer sun full on her face. The sun was warm and powerful as it kissed her skin. A smile played on her lips as the soft sea breeze whispered past her, taking with it some of the heat from the sun above. Jarrah loved summer. To hear the cicadas shrilling and see the heat shimmering off the tarmac on the roads meant that she was alive. The heat of the sun on her skin left a subtle glow, a reminder of its presence. On days like today, she would sit outside under the passionfruit vine that covered her verandah, and she would inhale scents of jasmine, wattle, eucalyptus and the flowers of the fruit and citrus trees in her garden as she read to herself in the pleasure-filled sunlight.

She was curled up on an old wooden chair, her legs tucked under her. Her white cotton dress hugged her well in all the right places. It nipped in at her waist, and shimmed effortlessly off her bottom, accentuating her vivacious curves and sexual figure. Her long black hair was tied back in a half-plait, the curls at the end tumbling over her shoulder, shining like silk in perfect contrast with her clear, lightly tanned skin. A fine sheen of sweat clung to her body, and she shone in the light with a surreal radiance that invoked a stirring in the loins of many a passerby who dares look over the fence into her yard.

But her mind was not on these strange people. It was on her lover. The man with the eyes like 2 pools of unimaginable depth. Jarrah's own eyes are the colour of storm clouds... a deep steely grey, but Silas has eyes the colour of unfired terracotta clay, deep and earthy. The warmth of them thaws her soul on the coldest of winter days, and cheers her heart at even the worst times. His hair is only slightly darker, but looks almost like the bleached wood of her chair in the bright full sun. When she sees him again, she will run her fingers through it as she kisses him full and slowly. She loves to tousle his hair. In her mind, she can smell the cologne he puts on after he shaves, and is comforted by its memory. It smells fresh... of grass and work and fresh linen, and is mixed with scents of his own body, male and strong. It is beautiful to her.

Missing Silas, Jarrah begins to run her hands over her smooth, glistening skin. It has been days since she has felt his touch, and she is craving him. But he will not be home for several hours yet... Looking over her body, she sees her nipple stiffen in anticipation, its rosy brown glow visible through the fine white cotton dress. With a gentle firmness, she caresses it, until it strains taught against the glowing white fabric. A pang of sudden arousal courses through her body, and her breathing quickens and deepens as a familiar aching tightness takes up residence in her belly. Shifting in her seat, Jarrah unfolds her legs and perches her feet on the table in front of her. Gently she raises the hem of her dress, until she is able to place her hand at her own hot, steamy sex. The soft lace of her knickers is already damp, but from the heat of the day or the heat of her arousal she cannot tell, and she does not care. Her dress still covers much of her legs, but slowly and gently she rubs circles at the cleft between her legs, and her pleasure-bump begins to swell until she can feel it poking its way from between her swelling lips. Her fingers move with a steady rhythm, and dip gradually deeper and deeper into her moist slip. The feel of the wet lace over her clit is exquisite, and a soft, almost imperceptible moan of delight escapes her throat.

Tossing her head back as if to feel the suns kisses as Silas', she deftly slips her fingers under the waistband of her now dripping panties, and revels in the sticky, musky wetness she finds there. Shifting one leg over the arm of her chair, her rhythm changes, becomes more urgent. Cone are the circles of pleasure, replaced by a swift back and forth motion with the tips of her fingers. If anyone were now to look into her yard, they would be greeted by a beautiful woman engulfed in the wrath of her own pleasure. Caressing and pulling at her nipple with her free hand, biting at her lip, Jarrah begins to rub more urgently and furiously at her groin, silently begging herself to grace her with release. in a sudden moment, her belly and crotch flood with a warmth from deep within her, an her orgasm is loosed as her salty, feminine juices spill from her onto her hands and panties, overflowing to her dress and the pavers below. Breathing ragged, Jarrah is oblivious to the onlooker at the side of her passionfruit vine, and deliberately and greedily sucks her come from her fingers. Their taste is sweet and full of passion. The day is waning, and soon her love will be home.

Silas steps almost silently from behind the vine, and without a word moves his body over Jarrah, engulfing her in a kiss that is almost electric for all the tension it emanates. His groin is swelled, his manhood straining against his lightweight chinos. Surprised, almost embarrassed, Jarrah rises up to kiss him full on the mouth, and he tastes her sweet pussy on her lips. Sinking to the ground, he pulls her onto him, pushing his throbbing cock against her heated, sun kissed body. Her hands caress his face and chest with urgency unlike any she has ever felt. He squeezes her ample bum, and with a swift movement looses his generous staff from their cloth prison. It bounces, shining and inviting, in the sunlight, a droplet forming on its tip.

He lifts Jarrah up and over his turgid gift, and simultaneously moves her panties to the side, and lowers her onto himself. A gasp escapes her as he fills her up, and his own pleasure fills the air. Frantic for release, Jarrah moves her slick, swollen womanhood along Silas, her clit grazing the silver buckle of his belt each time she takes him entirely into herself. The pain from it is electric, and pleasure shoots from each contact like lightning from the heavens. Tightening his grip on her arse, he can feel her orgasm building, and he pushes himself deeper within her, as she tightens her arms around his neck, tugging at his thick, luscious hair. With a sudden explosion within her, she is once again engulfed in her own heat, as her pussy tightens around the cock of her lover, and spills its salty womanly fluid over him. In perfect response, Silas' need becomes animal, he pulls her down onto him with a force and roughness she has come to know only comes with excruciating pleasure. A look of pain and pleasure mingled together crosses his face, and she feels his penis convulse over and over within her as he spills his warm seed into her. The remnants of her own orgasm are rekindled, and she once again feels her clit beginning to tap at her blushing lips, as her pleasure is prolonged.

Slick with sweat, they hold and caress one another under the passionfruit arbour, in the midday sun. As their juices mingle with each other, Jarrah smiles to herself. Her lunchtime surprise from her lover is more than she could ever have wished for. They kiss once more in the summer sun, and as if approving of their union, the summer breeze picks back up and kisses their skin, engulfing them in the scents of jasmine, eucalypts and the sea.