Butt Lovely Pt. 02 - Stormy starts.

"Heaven forbid." He grins. "What are you up to Moll's? You've been trying to conn me into an overnighter for ages now?"

"She has a massive girly crush on you, Davy. Oh and she wants you to take me horse riding tomorrow. I could use a few pointers; it's been a long time out of the saddle for me."

"Ah... You and me both, Jules. Not since... Well." He rubs his shoulder and dark things flit across his face.

He looks rather comical in Dudley's clothes. They're a tad large and quite stuffy looking on him. He sits across from me at the table and discusses cattle with Dudley. I learn that one of his investments is a cattle property in the Cooper region, wherever that happens to be.

"Helicopters, Julia." Uncle Dudley laughs, "They use helicopters to muster them. Genius, but must cost an absolute fortune in fuel."

"Cheaper than paying men on bikes or horseback. That would take months and... The choppers are only little fellas. The pilots are station hands. It's not as glitzy as it sounds. Dusty and hard work still. You'd love it out there, Jules. Sunsets are something else. The horizon goes on forever and with the desert dust, they glow crimson and... oh. Yeah, pretty sunsets." He blushes. I wonder why. Was it because he was including me in some kind of vision?

Oh dear... His heart.

He's holding it out for me. And why? Or is he? Or is it just his own hopes and imaginings? Fock... You think too hard, "Jules".

"So dear, that was... Hmm... Delicious and the thing with the sauce..." Dudley claps the table. "Delicious. Here's to the cook." He raises his whiskey filled glass that he's probably filled few too many times. She's ingenious, my Aunty M. Enough whiskey and the promised blowjob and he'll be practically chomping on the bit to finish dinner early and leave Davy and I alone. It's a little rudely manipulated and I remind myself never to underestimate my Aunt.

"Dessert yet Duds... Hold the horses..." She tells him.

"Davy, that little yellow lady..." I smile and do my best sultry look. "I bet she's wicked on the mountain roads."

"Oh god, Jules... You have no idea." And the passion flashes in his eyes. "Up over Mt Glorious and down into Dayboro. She's so nimble... So... Damn. You'll have to... Oh. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?"

There is a collective laugh around the table that shames us both into some serious blushes.

"Erm... Maybe going for a drive?" I smile at his cheeky, smiling hazel eyes.

"After bloody horse riding." He fills his mouth with a spoonful of food and dark things gather on his face. When the shadow passes, he asks, "You know your sports cars. How did you know it was a Bathurst girl?"

"You left the Union Jack on the ends of the rear spoiler and well the wheels mostly. I know some of the others have them but in Australia? Had to be a Bathurst. Oh, and no, I don't know much about sports cars, but I do know a little about Lotus. Father was the son of Gun Quarter industrialists. He invested heavily in Lotus stock. Almost broke the family but still... I do like shiny things."

His smile is all of those beautiful big straight teeth and a little skewiff dimple in the corner. He fumbles a little then reaches out for my hand. I shrug as Aunty M suggested I should this afternoon.

"Your hand." He smiles staring at my breasts.

I reach across and he hands me a keyring.

"If you can get me on a bloody horse tomorrow, you can drive the little lady up over the mountain."

Dinner finishes with a pavlova and ice-cream. It's something of an Aussie sort; has passionfruit on top of cream and meringue and well it's embarrassingly delicious. He's watching as I lick my spoon and some cream from my fingers... There's a wonderfully naughty glint in his eyes.

"I do like a woman with appetite." Uncle Dud's chuffs at Aunty M who is also licking her fingers.

"Hmm... I'm sure you do, you dirty old man. Come on Davo. Help with dishes please, love." She tells my prey.

This whole day has been some slow furnace. A fire was lit and fanned and now I watch with eyes that 'hunt' as he smiles and follows my lovely aunt to the kitchen with an armful of plates and a playful smile. I'm imagining all sorts of naughty things I could do to him if...

"David is a good man, Julia. He is careful, deliberate and like all of us a little broken by this world."

"I've already got the lecture, Uncle Duds." I laugh.

"Still. He likes you. I can see you want him but be careful please."

"Erm..." Awkward much?

"Shh... You practically burned his arse off with your glare as he followed Molly out. I'd like to see him back on a horse though. I don't think it's right for a man not to go for a jolly good gallop every now and then. Old Sue would be the perfect fit. She's a school-ma'am of a mount. Could use the exercise anyhow. Just watch she's not too green. Maybe send her a few times around the round yard before you seat him. She's gentle but still a little spirited."

His analogous ramble is a little convoluted, but I understand his caution as a similar warning that I got from Aunty Molly.

"I'll be gentle, Duds." And I wink again. He winks back. This is clearly an Aussie thing. Although Uncle Brenton Dudley Eugene Phillip Gilbert assimilating it is a little odd.

And then. Dishes get done. Port gets consumed. Business gets discussed and my Father's brother's wife snakes an arm around my shoulder and says, "He likes you a lot. Be patient."

I don't know what she thinks I'm waiting for. Mostly, I'm just enjoying the company and his attention as we sit in the drawing room and converse lightly. No matter how far Uncle Dud's tries to pull him into politics, sports or business, Davy always brings the conversation around with a question directed to me.

"Julia, you must have opinions on this marketing angle." He steers me in. They've been discussing a line of leggings and an advertising campaign that markets them squarely at tall toned fitness models. "You made that pair you wore this morning look sensational. I just don't think the hook is in promoting them with running."

"Damn straight. Leggings are for eating cheesecake in. For when one is too lazy to get dressed properly. But I don't think an advertisement showing an overweight frump lounging on cushions eating cake is going have them marching off the shelves, Davy."

"I think..." It was mean to throw in the fat reference. I'm not searching for compliments, just making an unsettling observation. "I think you may be... Look, it's real women buying the stock. Look at the sizing we commission for god's sakes. What if it's pitched at real women. Young busy mum's and working women who are trying to squeeze a quick walk or run into their schedule."

"Ahem... You do remember who we're pitching it to." Dudley interjects, "Bigoted bitch she is. She'd never go for anything that didn't have at least one close up of a models arse or tits."

"Well, you are not selling them to men." I offer.

"Now Jules, what about the LGBTXYZ contingent." David mocks, "Don't marginalise the boys in leggings."

He's going to shit when he finds out that I'm bi. "I hate running. If you ever see me running, you should run too, because something is chasing me. A little tennis and some horse riding are enough exercise for me. Leggings are great when riding, much more comfortable that jodhpurs. Maybe you could explore other activities?"

"I have several pair I wear when gardening." Aunty M chimes in.

"So what you're suggesting," Snuffles Uncle Dud's, "Is a gay man with skin tight yoga paints picking flowers from horseback. Quite the imagery."

"Don't forget the closing close up on his junk," Aunty M laughs.

"Carrie made me wear leggings when we ran, insisted they helped with weight loss somehow. I hated them. So sweaty and hot and clingy. I much preferred a nice loose pair of shorts."

"You should wear whatever you feel comfortable in. I thought you said you hated running. Gary sounds like a bit of a jerk."

"It's Carrie as in Carrie Fisher, not Gary as in Gary Glitter. Hindsight would suggest you are accurate in your appraisal of her though."

He processes the information extremely quickly. There is just a small awkward glance at my Uncle and Aunt but his smile doesn't falter.

"Well, her loss, Jules. Her loss." He smiles still flickering those hungry hazel eyes on mine. Obviously not deterred by the information.

"Indeed. And time we old folk retired I think." Uncle Dudley stretches and yawns.

"Oh, you aren't tired. I know what you're thinking." Aunty M laughs.

"Well promises were made..." He winks.

"You're awful." She smiles, "Why don't you youngsters take that bottle of red and a blanket down to the gazebo. It's only early and it's a lovely night. There's even a bit of a light show out over the valley."

"What a splendid idea. I love a good storm." I tell her truthfully and kiss her cheek goodnight. "I'll fetch a blanket. You will join me, Davy, won't you?"

"He'll do as he's bloody well told." Uncle Dud's laughs. "The women rule the roost in this house."

When I return with a blanket he's tapping at his phone.

"Planning an escape route?"

"Nothing of the sort, love. Just re-arranging some plans I had for tomorrow."

"I'm sorry. Anything important?" I am sorry too. He's been rather manipulated.

"I was meeting Megan for lunch; it's fine we'll catch up through the week. Don't be sorry, Jules." He puts his phone away and smiles genuinely, "I'm enjoying your company."

"Megan is?" I leave 'competition' unasked.

"Oh... No, Megan is... Ah... We dated a while back. A friend, I guess." His squirming is amusing.

"So, we've kept you from your friend with benefits?" I ask, hooking my arm through his and deliberately pulling him against my breast as we walk the short way to the Gazebo. He's carrying the wine and glasses. I carry the blanket.

"You really do enjoy teasing me, don't you Jules?"

"Immensely." Speaking of which, "Hand me your phone please Davy."

He complies without question and I add my name to his contacts. "I'm in town from Wednesday through Friday with interviews and hopefully some contract negotiation. When you're done with your 'friend', I'd like a dinner invitation or some such thing."

I hand it back and he looks at my details, smiling. "Megan is married. We remained friends. There's no-"

"Shh. Open the wine, pour us a glass each and relax, lovely." I rub his cheek with the back of my fingers. "You are fun to tease." Information acquired. Target destroyed. Tyres peed on. I relax onto the outdoor couch and pat it beside me when he turns back with glasses. I pull the blanket around his shoulder and mine and lean into his warmth.

"So how... I'm not sure it's polite to ask, but, your ex was a woman."

"And here I am snuggling up to you?" His awkwardness is delightful. His honest question not mocking or rude. "I don't much care about the bits and pieces, it's the person that I'm attracted to. The bits and pieces are quite fun, but the person more important."

I'm rubbing his arm as I speak. My face is pressed against his shoulder. It feels safe and snug beside him. "I met Carrie at University. We were both studying nursing. I'd had boyfriends before that and had never been attracted to a woman. There was something about her though. A fire in her that I admired. We were together for about three years all up. We came to Australia to work and explore."

I don't know why I'm telling him all this. It's easy to let it spill out and honestly, I wish for him to know me.

"It's only been since we split that I've seen some of the things that weren't so nice about her. I was never quite up to par, you know. Too fat, too loud, too driven, too... bla bla listen to me waffle Davy. I'm sorry. You're..." A nice safe place and a good listener, I don't tell him.

He snakes an arm around my shoulders. "It's okay, Jules. Go on, love."

We sip our wines silently and stare off over Lowood way where lightning flashes through heavy clouds.

"We got our visas and some nursing contracts in Australia and the plan was to earn enough money to travel. I got to see Cairns and the tablelands. It was beautiful up there. Then she ran off with the first beach bunny she found. Some tall bronzed blonde. I couldn't compete with that."

"No, Jules you couldn't." He mumbles.

"The fock you say?" I lurch away from him in anger.

His laugh is infuriating. I'm about to get up and leave when he says, "It would hardly be fair on her."

"Oh... You..." I'm pouting and trying to squash my sudden anger back down. He tugs me back to his side and kisses me gently on the forehead.

"So, your self-esteem took a flogging. That explains a few comments I picked up on." His fingers brush through my hair as he holds my head against his chest. "Let me tell you about my day, Jules."

"I knew I was getting railroaded from the moment I took that call on Friday. Moll's has tried setting me up a few times now. Some of them were nice women too, but none really rang any bells for me. So, I expected to turn up today and have some polite conversation with some relatively disinteresting creature that was nice but not really my cup of tea."

He's grown so warm I worry I'll fall asleep right here, listening to his low calm tones and drowning in the man smell of him.

"The moment I saw you. At the tennis court. I don't believe in that love at first sight faff, but by God, lust at first sight... Damn. I don't know what Carrie thought a woman should look like but I know what I like. Then you lost your shit at me. God damn that was the hottest thing I've seen in years. A beautiful brunette with breasts to- ah probably should mind my manners. love, Um, a beautiful brunette with a passionate soul. And you turned out to be a sweetheart too. You're intelligent to talk with, play tennis and well... I guess I like you a lot."

"I'm a fucking handful you know. At the moment all you're seeing is tits and arse and my best behaviour. Well, not even that." I laugh at the ridiculousness of the day. "You'll be sick of me in no time, Davy. Now shh. Watch the pretty storm with me."

I think it's how you know that a person is a good fit. This cosy silence deepens into a kind of intimacy that extends beyond the simple physical snuggle and the shared blanket. Like two souls meeting and 'god you're a dreadful sap Julia'.

The wind starts to pick up a little and I pull the blanket closer around me. We can hear the thunder now. The storm has changed directions and is slowly moving our way.

"So, lovely Davy who cuddles good, are you going to ask me out for dinner?" Technically he has to now because it would be remarkably unchivalrous to reply in the negative.

"About that." He's thinking. His brow is wrinkled like he's doing math or god help, me trying to work out how to turn me down. "I... Look, where do you stay when you're in town?"

"My friend Jessica and her husband. They live in Strathpine not far from the trains and I can commute into the city. She's a lovely girl. You'd like Jessie. They're just married though and I feel like a bit of chaperone when I stay. Like if I wasn't there, they'd be boinking on the couch or something. I'm waffling. Why Davy?"

"Well look. We've just met and I don't want you to... Just..."

"Spit it out old boy." I laugh at him.

"Stay with me... I have a little unit in the city. It overlooks the gardens. It's not as flash as this place but it's clean and... Look, there's a spare room, I'm not saying... Anyway, there's a spare room and it would mean you would be walking distance from your appointments. Selfishly, I'd get to spend some more time with you and see how we get along."

Oh, it's dangerous. I already like him far more than I was prepared to. Those eyes. Just their grazing my skin burns hot. When they find mine though I want. I want... I need even. Say something Julia you nonce.

"Yes." I drop the blanket and straddle him in a most unladylike way; my tits pushed hard into his chest and my face against his neck. My wine glass held steady without spilling over his shoulder. "Yes, lovely Davy." I tell his neck.

"It's perfect. I can walk to appointments and stroll in the gardens and do some shopping." I'm probably gushing, "I won't have to sit in a carriage full of smells and strangers and oh, you must let me cook. I'm not at all related to Nigella as some smarty suggested but I can cook well. Yes."

His hands tilt my face to his and he simply says, "Good."

My hand behind his neck urges him forward and I peck his lips with mine. I'm unwilling yet to surrender to one of those poolside kisses only because I know where it would lead and I don't want to throw myself at him like a loose floozy.

Thankfully, the first drops of rain on the roof interrupt us before I rape the poor man. The wine and the glasses are forgotten as we laugh and run back across the lawn with the blanket over our heads.

"So... I guess this is goodnight." He grins at me. "Horse riding in the morning and sore from tennis. Should probably try and get some sleep."

I don't know what time it is, but it's late and as much as I'd like to spend more time with him, he's right.

"I guess so, Davy. Now if you promise to behave yourself, I'd like to kiss you goodnight."

He grins but his eyes burn hot for me. This time his arms pull me in and he cradles the back of my head in his hand as he feasts on me. Hot lips burn against my own and slight stubble scratches while his tongue gently asks permission of my lips. Granted without thought, my own tongue meets his and I slake my thirst for this.

My arms around his waist pull him tightly to my body and I feel him harden against my tummy. If he only knew my own arousal. The need for breath parts us briefly then we fiercely reclaim our union. It's only when we part again for breath and he starts kissing down my neck that put a hand between us and gently press him back.

"Goodnight, lovely Davy." I huff and drown in his eyes.

"Goodnight Elizabeth Julia Ann Bernice Gilbert." Oh god, he remembered the whole pompous thing?

Without a further word we hold hands and climb the stairs. I nod as he finds his door and whispers, "See you in the morning, Jules."

I can't sleep. I showered and brushed my hair. I've tossed and turned and replayed every moment of this lovely day. But now, tired as I am, I lay and listen to the storm rage outside and I can't get him out of my mind.

I wasn't prepared to like him. The whole set up was groan worthy. Awkward and weird is usually how these arrangements end up but holy shit; here I am. Though I just showered and pulled on my sleepwear, I'm thoroughly soaked and riding a whole-body arousal that the storm seems to reflect. His eyes, those kisses. The thunder and the rain lashing the windows.

I'm drawn from the bed by the power and majesty of the weather. Lightning flashes light my way through the quietly sliding door to the long glassed in veranda that runs the length of the house. Placing my palms on the glass I fancy I am part of the storm; that I can feel its power course through my hands and mix with my arousal.

It's impossible to recall the last time I felt this sexually charged. Surely not since Carrie, at least. Remembering her between my legs, her small tongue flicking at me and my hands tangled in her hair I am surprised when she fades so quickly from my mind and I'm suddenly imagining him down there. His hot tongue invading me and teasing me to bliss.

Sex with Carrie was good. Not fantastic but lovely and intimate. She was a skilled lover but such a control freak. Everything had to be her way. Even sex. I tried to show her my one dirty desire but even that was not good enough. She kept my passion well doused. Sated, but very well controlled. I don't remember even masturbating since the breakup. I thought sometimes she took my libido with her.