Sunshine

I laugh and fork my noodles into my salivating grin. "Seriously, you have magic hands, cook like a chef, and look like a Melanesian goddess. Tell me how you got to twenty-four and stayed single."

"I didn't try to. I was engaged twice."

"Imbeciles."

"I broke it off both times."

"Hmm." I wipe spicy hot sauce from my chin.

"One was kinda trying to turn me into his mother. The other... Well he literally wanted an Asian bride and didn't want to pay for her."

"Then you met Christina?"

"Then I met Christina. You have sauce again." She reaches for my chin and wipes the offending dribble from the laugh line at the corner of my mouth. I watch as she licks her finger clean of my spilled mess and I spill another mess quite privately.

"Do you miss men?"

"Hmm..." she has a mouthful of food and is staring off into the warm golden sun that teeters on the horizon. "sometimes a little. I have like, toys and our..." she blushes, "sex-life is quite satisfying. But I guess sometimes I'd still like the kinda um... feel of a man. Oh, that's sounds horrible of me, I really am quite happy. Just, sometimes... you know."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"What do you do when Mr Winter is away like now?" She blushes again just asking that, "Oh, sorry that's kinda nosey... Forget I asked."

I laugh, "I call for a massage and hope for the best."

"You're bad." She giggles.

"I brought Bob. My Battery-Operated-Boyfriend. He'll spend a few nice afternoons with me on the deck watching sunsets. And, well... George and I embrace all the social tech that is available now. We snapchat and skype and facebook, so I'm not lonely."

She nods, finishing off the last mouthful of her food. "Same. But, it's not quite the same, is it?"

"Nope, it's not." I stand and take her empty plate and march our cutlery and bowls to the sink. I rinse things and stack the little dish-washer then glance back out to where she reclines bathed in golden light looking like a Tia-Maria commercial. Her eyes are far away and am I imagining it, or is she moving her hand beneath the sarong. I cannot see clearly enough to say for sure but in my mind George picks her up and carries her to the fur before the fire where he splays her quite lewdly and beckons me to join him in teasing her to a frenzy.

Dishwasher stacked and benches wiped, a wash of weariness like a lapping island tide flows through me. I can smell the champagne on my sunburned skin and my own sweat and a lower base of funky arousal. I want that spa bath I can see beyond my king-sized bed. It is tiled beside the bedroom with a full-length glass window that catches the sunset like a painting beside it's marbled almost Romanesque grandeur. Yesterday's snorkelling exertion reminds that it's still there beneath my freshly pummelled flesh so I beg my leave from my companion.

"Sarah sweetheart, I really need to freshen up. Would you forgive me if I leave you for a bit? There's a spa bath in there calling my name."

"No, no, go ahead. I'll amuse myself a while. You tell me to like, leave anytime. I'm just soaking up some humanity. I don't want to intrude." She's a little breathless and speaks with an earthy grumble.

"Curious..." I think and wander off to run a bath.

Beside the marble tub are a selection of bath goodies including some spiced salts, scented candles, plush towels and a selection of craft soaps. I run water, mixing it to a hot laval flow that reflects the warm light spilling through the masterpiece painted in the double-glazed window. Beneath me soft lights reveal the sand and coral in changing colours that ebb and flow. I'm mesmerised by an eel that waves charmed in the current waiting for a small meal to stray too close to its toothy grin.

My sun sozzled mind wanders flotsam-like on an ocean of whiskey, champagne, massage and trashy novel and finally washes ashore on white sands beneath tall palms and relaxed island sunset. Stretching, uncoiling sinews and feeling warm salty water paint stinging hot lines of red on my white skin as I sink into the green depths of the tub I wish suddenly I'd brought a book and a drink to keep me company as I soak before the painted horizon.

Heat rises through my body. I hadn't felt cold but this warmth is primal. It finds my core and rises through my limbs and small beads of sweat form on my forehead. My neck 'cracks' as I stretch and I let the sensations overwhelm me in luxurious relaxation. I think of nothing as I stretch my legs in the tub. I think of nothing as I stretch my arms behind me along the edge. I think of nothing as I arch my neck and give myself to the sun and its loving warmth. I think of nothing and float in a hot green sea beneath purple skies, fondled by the golden fingers of a dying sun stretching over the water.

"Hey."

My eyes snap open. Had I been sleeping? I didn't hear her approach. I splash as I jerk to look to find the voice and see my smiling caramel companion standing beside the dividing wall.

"I brought you a drink. Would you like your hair washed?"

"Huh? Oh." I struggle to surface from the miasma of bliss into which I've been immersed. "Thank you." I reach for the glass she places on the edge of the tub and watch as she lights the candles around the tub with matches. They flare and light her smiling face against the darkening sky as the sun dips low on the waves.

"I hope you don't mind me intruding. I was worried you'd drowned." She giggles, is it nervously?

She's holding a crystal jug that she dips into the bath. Her little hand finds my shoulder and gentle urges me to lean forward. Do you know the joy and intimacy that accompany this simple act? How gentle fingers massaging your scalp as warm water washes through your hair and down your torso can feel so undeserved and tender as to make you gasp or sob with sheer gratitude. She massages shampoo into my hair and rubs my scalp with fingers that know exactly where and how to touch to bring the deepest delight then rinses finally with warm rivulets of delicately poured water.

Repeating the procedure to condition my hair I try to calm my heaving breaths but simply succumb to the sensations. I let her caress my scalp and rinse me clean again and the scented bath earns my deepest thanks for masking the oozing arousal that floods my wanton depths. This moment becomes the 'turgid tunnel' of my earlier thoughts. A swollen entrance; a birthplace for whatever we are to become. Is it lovers?

Behind me, she places the jug on the floor then rests her hands on my shoulders, letting my breathing settle.

"Connie..." her breathy speech warms my wet ears, "I'm nervous."

"Nervous dear? Whatever for? You have nothing to fear from me."

"Not fear, I want..." Over my shoulder I see her biting her lip to stop the words she feels she shouldn't speak.

"Oh darling girl, I want that too but don't rush."

"It's Okay?"

I laugh at the need in her voice and the trepidation, "No dear, It's not okay. Not even a little okay." She inhales sharply and I smile putting her out of misery, "It is required, I insist, I want it, I need it, but slow down. You've had me boiling all day, let's get you up speed. Is that okay?"

"Yes." Her pouty dark lips quiver and the point of her little red tongue licks them as if in anticipation. Deep brown eyes lock to mine and she leans forward slowly as if drawn to a cliff face until our lips meet and speak what can't be spoken; what there are no words for. That tiny red tongue taps my lips tentatively and I open to her as I was always going to and tease her lips with my own tongue. Her fingers are tangled in my hair and stay their when we finally part for breath.

"Oh Sarah, you are just delightful." My breasts heave in lusty affirmation, "Fetch your drink and join me in the tub. I'm sure you'd enjoy --" She cuts me short by dropping her sarong and skipping across the chalet naked. Green water effervesces as I turn on the spa. Warm jets of spiced water massage my back and legs and in this champagne bath I recline with just my head above the water, waiting like a crocodile to snatch my caramel quarry.

Soft music follows her footsteps across the glass floor. Ice rattles in the ice bucket as she places it on the tubs edge and stretches a small foot forward tentatively testing the water both for temperature and metaphorically; can she take this step? I stretch a hand to her in invitation and she takes it to steady herself as she steps into my bubbling quagmire. Her eyes sparkle nervously. Desire plays around the edge of them and they dance with mine. Biting her bottom lip, she lifts her other foot into the water and sits on the edge of the tub to pour champagne.

Smiling I accept the glass and raise it to my lips and drink it as thirstily as my eyes drink in her proximity. Splashing water on her legs she stretches slowly down into the water and I watch it claim her inch by inch, swallowing her legs slowly then lapping at her pussy as I would beg to right now.

"What? You're staring at..."

I raise an eyebrow then tease,

"The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat,

They took some honey, and plenty of money,

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

You are,

You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Batting me with a bathside sponge, she laughs heartily and slides into the murky mint green mess. "You're daft Connie." Ice broken, she slips completely beneath the water then rises smoothing her dark hair behind her ears to smile broadly at my eyes which roam along her neck and down her shoulders to play upon the soft round mounds of breasts with their dark hardened nipples. Our feet are touching in the middle of the tub and my toes relish sliding along her calf.

"Does the resort have rules about fraternising, Sarah?"

"Oh definitely, do you like want to complain?" She smirks.

"Oh no, I'm simply going to fraternise the fuck out of you shortly and I was wondering how much trouble I'll get in."

"None, if I don't complain."

"I'll do my very best to make sure you have no complaints, then shall I?"

"I'm counting on it." She's washing her arms and legs with the sponge and I wonder if I'd like to be a sponge and travel over her skin like that. "Do my back?"

Leaving no time for riposte she slides her slippery bum across my thigh to sit between my legs and lean forward, handing me the sponge over her shoulder. Skin on my skin is all I know; the heat of her hips and thighs pressed against the inside of my thighs, the sponge in my fingers squeezing trickles of water down her spine, the bath lotion spread in my palm sliding across the soft curves of her strong shoulders and around her waist, her arching neck...

Too soon I'm finished and put the sponge aside fearing the impending famine of her withdrawal but she surprises me be simply leaning back to lie on my breasts with her head tucked into my neck. "This is nice." She smiles and snuggles. "Front too?"

My heart beats against her back as I squirm behind her to reach for more bath lotion and in protracted moments I reach in degrees for her collarbones and spread the sloppy liquid with my learning fingers. They learn like a student studies a master, patiently yearning for fullness of understanding. Memorising each lesson and committing it to a treasured memory.

First, they learn the divot at the bottom of her neck where her collarbones join, then they study the flat of her just below and stretch to explore her shoulders before navigating down her flank to cup and weigh her beautiful mammilla. Inquiring fingers linger on chocolate nubs to learn their shape and texture, rolling them and squeezing.

Raspy breaths lift and lower my curriculum in time with my own insufflation upon the wet hair of her head and my study deepens to an expedition. I simply glory in the tactile fascination for many pendulous moments before finding her slight tummy with one hand while the other refuses to relinquish its worship. Beneath the green of the water my fingers learn her navel then her hips and further they roam mapping my new country.

They slide upon a promised land which rises from her in a slight mound in the valley of her parted thighs. Therein my inquisitive fingers fascinate themselves folding and tracing her, reading her like brail. Tender moans escape her now and she presses back into me sliding along my own erect nipples as she arches her hips inviting my scholarly exploration to fossick further in her treasures. One naughty student dips rudely between the meaty folds of her splayed flesh and finds a warm wet welcome within her.

This small tomb of delights cedes its secrets swiftly under inspection. Speaking its needs and treasures through her motions and mouth in small "ohs" and "ahs" and "Oh my god's". Academic digits methodically memorise each nuance of her pleasure until they know to plumb here and slide there, to rub the swollen juncture of her labia where an insistent clitoris responds to tiny pressures and circles. They learn how close they can get her to the edge of her inner waterfall before withdrawing to explore elsewhere.

"Please..." she implores, "So close... Please Connie."

And then we students of her sex, bring her to the edge of her orgasm and hold her firmly through the headlong tumble into the water below. We feel her thighs clamp tight around us so we clamp tightly onto her and hold her safely as she convulses. This is our graduation. Our master's thesis. This is our opus as much as hers and we accept it as an accolade.

I take the sponge and gently wash her as she lies raggedly panting, hot and sweaty against me. A single sliver of the sun winks once naughtily then slips beyond the horizon.

So, I blamed the sunshine. I blamed it for bringing two lonely people close for a moment in time. I blamed it for warming us lewdly and building a slow burn within us that smoulders still between us as she settles in my arms.

Champagne chills my lips and my movement jerks her from her afterglow. Turning her face up towards mine I close the gap and as our lips touch and hers open, I dribble a little of my champagne into her mouth and watch her eyes widen. "Thirsty Sarah?" I ask. "I could really use another champagne?"

"Hmm yeah, I just don't think I could make my legs work." She giggles.

"I'll go, I need the loo in any case." Over my shoulder as I towel off I quip, "It's part of my evil plan to keep you from running away again."

She watches intently as I sit on the toilet opposite the tub and wee loudly. Her eyes never raise to mine until the last few drops of urine leave me and I pad at myself. "That's fascinating. I always wondered what it looked like." Cocking my head, I watch her face to establish her meaning. Is this simple curiosity? A fetishist birth?

"I never had sisters. I don't know much about... You know. I just. Sorry, not trying to be creepy."

My smile seems to quiet her. "Not creepy dear."

"You have a nice vagina too. I've only like, seen mine and Christina's. Mine literally sticks out like dumbo's ears, yours is tidy like Christina's."

"Thank you, I think. I like yours too."

What an odd child. I return with another small bottle of champagne to find her staring out to sea crying softly to herself. I climb quite awkwardly into the tub and pull her into a gentle cuddle.

"What is it dear?"

She sniffs and wipes her eyes, "Well... just kinda silly. Just Christina... She trusts me and look at me."

"Hmm. I'm looking. You're very pretty."

"Cheating!" She breaks into fresh sobs. "I've crossed so many lines... Should have finished my massage and left. I shouldn't be..."

"Shouldn't be what dear? Human? Attracted to someone?"

"Shouldn't have acted on it."

"Hmm. Well I'm glad you did."

"That's just it. I'm glad too. I should be like, horrified with myself."

"Who says?"

"Well everyone."

"Look dear Sarah, you're very young. Let me tell you what I've learned as I grew older with my husband. There is a big difference between emotional love, physical attraction, loyalty and sex. When you're young the lines seem really blurred but as you mature you can see boundaries more clearly. May I ask you a question?"

"Hmm."

"Are you in love with me?"

"I don't know. I haven't been able to literally even think since I started doing your massage. I should have stopped and like, left but I let things go on. I came back even. I had... I had to have you."

"Darling that's physical attraction. That's exactly how I felt all day. I just plain wanted you from the moment you put your sweet hands on my skin. Goodness, you saw how wet I was by the time you finished... That's not love. We both know we are not going to start a life together, a friendship I hope and I am enjoying our physical relationship, but it's not romantic love, is it?"

"No... I like you. I guess, I don't love you but I've not felt that literally attracted to anyone I didn't like, go on to fall in love with."

"Ah... and you worry you'll fall in love with me and break Christina's heart?"

"I don't ever want to hurt her."

"See. That's 'in love'. That feeling where another person's heart is more important to you than your own desires and interests. What you are feeling right now simply proves you love Christina deeply."

"What about you, don't you worry what would happen if Mr Winter found out?"

"Oh no. But that's very different. We have an arrangement I'll tell you about one day."

"So, you will still see me after tonight? You won't be like, disgusted by me or just use me."

"Dear girl, I holiday here with George every year and plan on booking lots of massages. Tell me, do you do couples?"

"Hey? I've not..."

"Massages, silly. Couples massages."

"Of course."

"Then I'll be seeing lots of you every year if you still work here. I'll also leave you my contacts and if you are ever on the mainland near Brisbane I'll have a nice big bubble bath waiting for you anytime you like."

"What do I like, tell Christina."

"Oh... Well that's another matter." Her eyes have dried and rationalisation starts to clarify her thought train. "I don't need you to tell her anything. I can keep a secret if you choose to. Something tells me though that your relationship could grow if you were more honest with her about your needs. For example, how about your admission that sometimes you still fancy a man? In the early days while you are very much in love it may not be an issue but over time these things have a way of tripping people up."

"I have literally not touched a man since we got together. I've had plenty of offers... But, I've certainly touched you, now haven't I?"

"Does that diminish your love for Christina?"

"No. I just don't want it to hurt her."

"So maybe talk to her. Ultimately that's your most important relationship. We can be friends still if you want to discontinue our naughty misadventures but I am quite enjoying them."

"So am I. I just have so little experience with men or women. I worry that like, Christina will find me boring. That's part of why I... you know, barged into your chalet and... tub. I'm sorry for crying. You did nothing wrong."

"You were curious about pleasuring women?"

"Yes. I feel so clumsy with Christina."

"Darling that's half the fun. Stumbling around a lover until you learn their pleasure."

"Will you tell George about... us..."

"Yes. Most certainly. In great detail. He'll be so jealous that he wasn't here with us."

"Wow, true? You guys do threesomes and stuff? Are you like swingers or something?"

"Oh, hell no darling. Just a very horny couple who do what they need to scratch their itches now and then. George is a little older than me and very busy with work so when we get opportunities to misbehave we take advantage of them. We have had threesomes, moresomes, sometimes he just likes to watch me with a man or woman. Sometimes I just watch him."