In amusement, I thought to myself that she was always pushing me away when things were getting interesting. I looked for the coffee and found it right where it should be and then found the coffeepot the same way. She was gone a few minutes and the coffee was nearly brewed when she returned. She was dressed in a semi-transparent flowing robe that ended below her knees. It was brightly colored and seemed to go with her personality. It fit my personality too, because it looked like she was wearing nothing below it. She thanked me for starting the coffee and as she walked by me toward the cupboard I reached out and took her hand and pulled her back to me. I pulled her down to sit on my lap and then I resumed our interrupted kiss. Her weight in my lap stirred me from a sustained state of near readiness to full alert. My hand was busy at her breast again and I felt her breathing become more intense. Another shudder and she moaned before jumping up again. Again it seemed like she was always. Their disapproval seemed to refocus upon her rising hand inching up her silk blouse. Trembling fingers hot against the topmost clasp. She worked it undone in moments, and then the second clasp. Her other hand held pinned between the slow rise and fall of her uppermost thighs. Her eyes blue gaze locked on to those who would watch, taking image after image of her breaking. Her back bent, arching her chest towards the Sun. It's heat instantly enveloping her smallish breasts as they surged from the cloth that once kept them. A slight slip of her finger across the pink hardness and then quickly through her hair. Pulling her head back further. Staring straight at them with a frightened eagerness. presenting an image of Amadine golden hair, hand buried between two slender thighs, hips rising only to fall and rise higher still. Breasts firmly pointed at the sun, head twisted to gaze back, eyes wide at her coalescing audience, golden hair falling into her mouth, lips parted, a quiver then.
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