Well, to quote the great Michael Jordan in his motion picture debut... let's see if I remember how to do this.
*********************
Even sitting inside the metal cocoon of the Mercedes John could hear the wind howling through the trees, whipping around the cloud draped hill as if it were alive, alive and angry and hungry. What should have been a gentle drizzle was torn apart and driven against the windows in a miniature storm. Common sense said to wait, it couldn't last forever after all and in a few minutes it would doubtless have eased enough to make the short walk more pleasant. But he knew full well there would be nothing pleasant about it, even if it were a perfect summers day, in truth he welcomed the foul weather, it seemed somehow appropriate for the task in hand. With a sigh he left his umbrella on the passenger seat, pulled his collar up around his throat and stepped into the world.
Immediately the wind pulled at his body, surprising him with its strength and chilling his flesh even through the thick wool coat that was lifted up, snapping around him, wings of darkness as he turned and started walking.
Step
Sunlight, crisp and pure, glanced off the white tops of waves as they broke against the shore, a day so perfect it was as if God himself had decided to show every artist that drew breath what a masterpiece truly was. The sand was fine beneath Johns bare feet, not golden but white, rising up into curving dunes and, far far beyond them, the green expanse of valleys and mountains that sheltered this bay from the harsh world outside. The sun itself was still low in the sky, the faintest hint of mist clinging to the very edges of the distant mountains, but none of this occupied his attention as he stared, enchanted at the sight before him.
The long, curving beach was practically deserted at this time of day, but even so a single towel was stretched out on the sand. Its owner however was not, opting instead for the cool waters of the bay, gliding through the small breakers about twenty yards from the shore as if born in the ocean. A cap of red hair spread out in the surface, slicked back to her skull as she powered her way over a larger than normal wave, tantalizing glimpses of flesh teasing and exciting him as he stood, spellbound, on the sands.
Suddenly he was moving, rushing down the beach towards the waiting water, pulling his t-shirt over his head and wading in up to his waist, not caring how much noise he made, or how little subtlety he was displaying. One thought alone consumed him, the urgent, desperate need to introduce himself, to hear this vision speak and learn her name. She must have seen his headlong dash as she'd stopped swimming and now floated in the water, waiting for him as he marched out to meet her.
“Good morning.” She said as he was still a few yards away “lovely day for a swim isn't it?”
God, John thought, her voice was beyond anything he could have expected, anything he'd dreamed of. Low, seductive, playful and all she'd done was say good morning. “Uh, yeah, yeah it's a great day for a swim.” He replied and winced at just how much of a tongue tied geek he must seem at that moment, sure he'd blown whatever slim chance he may have had.
To his surprise a soft laugh rewarded his stammered attempts. “Well, I must admit it's getting a little boring swimming alone, want to join me?” She asked, playfully splashing the surface and, somehow, managing to soak his face despite the distance.
“I... uh, yeah, yeah I'd love to.” John said, feeling both a goofy grin and his blush spread over his face.
“Come on then” she laughed, splashing him again.
“Alright I....” John took a step forward and felt the bottom drop away from his feet, the water closing over his head. He came back to the surface spluttering and brushing his hair away from his eyes. She was floating about ten yards away now, and the grin on her face was plain.
“Careful, it gets deep about there!” She yelled over to him before twisting and diving under the waves. With a single breath John followed her, the cool greens of the world beneath the surface relaxing him immediately as he caught a glimpse of her lithe form swimming in a straight line along the shore, seemingly cruising through the water. He felt an almost predatory mood take him and shot straight for her, closing the distance quickly. As he got closer he realized with a start just how stunning she really was. The water still made a clear view impossible, but even so he could see her long, shapely legs, leading up to a set of curves that could have stepped off the catwalk of the highest circles of fashions. Underwater her hair fanned out behind her, rippling like a liquid curtain as she seemed to slide through the water. Closer and closer he got, now barely five foot behind her and for a moment he saw a clear view of smooth skin, flawless arches and perfect toes. A moment was all the sight he got though as she twisted, turning along the length of her own body, dashing past him in a flash of flesh and fingers, fingers that trailed down his stomach and goosed his ribs, the motion slowed by the water but enough to tickle nonetheless. He gasped, instinctively tried to breathe in and came to the surface in a spluttering eruption, trying to clear the water from his eyes as he sucked air back into his lungs. Even as he recovered he felt something pass close by him underwater and another flash of fingers, this time against his thigh and he felt a most unmanly giggle escape his lips.
Not wanting to give her an easy target he dove back under the surface, back to the chase as she twisted and arced through the water like a fish. Again and again he tried to catch her, again and again she managed to evade his attentions and sneak brief, devastating, wonderful, teasing, tantalizing touches against his flesh, more often than not resulting in a repeat performance of his gasping rise to the surface. Over and over again... until finally he realized a way to trap her. Slowly, subtly he steered her towards the shore, towards the steep drop off where the ocean became a paddling pool. Once more she turned to attack, and once more he rose spluttering. This time though he had been ready for her and had managed to hold his breath, faking the laugh as he rose. She turned and swept back for another strike. He grabbed out as she went past and caught her thighs in a bear hug.
Instantly his hands were at her skin, wriggling and tickling as best he could under water. She gasped, howling with unexpected laughter as she found herself in the shallows with nowhere to twist or turn. She clawed and crawled her way forward, both of them fighting for air and control, John barely able to believe this was happening, that his hands were touching this beauty who hadn't even told him her name. Eventually they struggled to shore where, exhausted by her efforts, she lay on the white sands, her feet now trapped under Johns arm as he raked her soles.
“N...NO! Ssstoooop! PLEASE!” She laughed, exhaustion clear in her voice now.
“Tell me your name! Tell me your name and I'll stop.” John teased, twisting his fingers between her wriggling toes.
“E...E...Elizabeth!” She gasped. “It's Elizabeth!”
Instantly, though with more than a little regret, John stopped his assault, released her from his grasp and laid alongside her on the sand.
“Pleased to meet you Elizabeth, I'm John”. He said, and on the spur of the moment stuck out a hand.
As tired as she was Elizabeth managed a giggle at the curiously old fashioned gesture before taking his hand in hers and shaking with a strength that surprised him. A surprise that melted in the force of the next as she took his hand to her lips and started to kiss each finger in turn.
The rest of that day seemed to flow into a single melting pot of images and emotions, his entire being feeling freed and truly at peace for the first time he could remember. Yet despite it all there was one image that stayed with him, that overrode all else. Elizabeth's face titled to his, her head pillowed on his chest, whispering a simple message that thrilled him beyond measure.
“I love you.”
Step
Rain hammered down on the fabric a few feet above his head as John twisted in the sleeping bag, cursing the unseasonable weather as the chill air closed in, always looking for a way to slide down next to his skin. Grumbling to himself he had to admit that maybe camping out in the middle of April wasn't such a great idea after all, even the site manager hadn't quite been able to believe his eyes when he'd seen them pull in and ask for a pitch. They had the entire field to themselves, although that did assume there'd still be a field left come the morning and they weren't swept out to sea.
The sound of a zip being ripped open scythed through him and he glanced up, the dim outline of a female figure all he needed for reassurance that they weren't being robbed. Robbed, he thought with a snort, like any self respecting thief would be out on a night like tonight. From the living area of the tent he heard quiet cursing as the new arrival seemed to be inventing some new form of yoga to get out of her soaked waterproofs without getting the rest of her soaked in the process. As fascinating as the process was to watch John could feel the night air nipping at his flesh once more and rolled over, pulling the sleeping bag a little closer around him and almost immediately starting to doze off, lulled by the warmth and familiar scent on the fabric.
Only to be startled awake by someone yanking the zip down on the sleeping bag, diving in while somehow closing the zip behind them and a pair of lips finding his. For a moment he surrendered to the kiss, caught unawares and lost in the moment, in the pleasure and care it promised. A moment only though as the lips pulled back and a voice whispered in his ear.
“Hi handsome, mind if I join you?”
“I'm sorry Miss, I think you must have the wrong tent.”
“Oh well, that's just too bad, you don't mind if I spend the night do you, it's raining cats and dogs out there.”
“I don't mind, my wife might though.”
“Oh come on, she wouldn't object too much to finding a naked lady in your arms would she?”
“Well.... not if she could join in the fun I guess.”
“You pig!” Elizabeth laughed, kissing him again and moving closer to his body, her naked flesh chill against his skin. “And here I thought I was woman enough for you.”
“Hey Liz, you can't really blame me for wanting a menage a trois with you and your imaginary twin sister you know.” John teased, lifting his hands to pull her close in his embrace.
“Oh no?” She replied, and he picked up on the note of challenge a half second too late. Suddenly ten fingers were wriggling and writhing in his armpits and in a moment he was lost. Laughing without hope of control, any chance of fending her off dependent now on getting his own hands into play. A slim hope, and one that she quickly squashed by rolling to her right, trapping his hands between her and the airbed, holding him with her own body weight as she explored his flesh.
John felt an all too familiar feeling creep over him as he descended into hysterics and madness. Liz simply knew him too well, knew every spot and point on his body to send his senses into overdrive. Her fingers busied themselves in his armpits, dancing briefly down his sides and ribs, even traveling as far down as his waist, her breath tickling around his neck and ears, his roars of laughter matched by her own delighted giggling as she felt him writhe above her, reveling in the power she held over him, luxuriating in the sure and certain knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her no matter what she may do or how she provoked him.
John for his part felt his eyes cloud with tears, his entire body demanding relief now, strength seeping out of his muscles as he flopped down on top of his lover, his goddess. Over and over she explored his flesh, somehow managing to find new and interesting ways of tormenting him with every passing moment. Her tongue darting out to trace his collarbone as her fingers flew over his ribs. Her lips closing on his, swallowing his laughter as she wormed a finger down into his navel. The lightest of light touches teasing and tickling his cock and balls as she ground into his helpless body, and all the while his hands still trapped behind her flesh.
He felt her shift slightly, wrapping her thighs around him, her hips grinding against him as she pushed against his thigh. Her fingers returned to his armpits and dug in, hard, much harder than before. With renewed energy he howled and thrashed trying to pull his arms free, trying to get away from her, with no success. In seconds he felt her tense, a muffled cry escaping her lips as her body dove over the edge and into pure pleasure. For what seemed like an eternity he saw her face twisted in delight, and as always, he felt a pulse of shock and wonder at the fact she offered such a gift, such trust and affection, to him.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she came back to him, staring at him from half lidded eyes, a shadow of a grin visible on her face as she snuggled against him. Her lips moved up to his ear, whispering in a voice still shot through with pleasure. “Ohhh, you're wife is going to be pissed she missed that.”
Even in his current state John couldn't help but chuckle at the joke, aware as always his wife was that little bit faster on the draw than he. “But what's this....” Liz said, mock surprise in her voice as her fingers traced Johns straining member. “Does someone need a little relief of their own?”
It was all John could do to grunt as he was overwhelmed by the sensations she was causing with the barest touch of a fingertip.
“I love you” she whispered as she arched her back up and freed his hands, rolling with him into a ball of fingers, tongues, hair and anything else that came to hand to tantalize the senses.
Step
John woke with a start, finding himself lying on the couch, his hand still holding the copy of last weeks productivity report he'd been reading before he'd nodded off. Shaking his head to clear the familiar 'wrapped in cotton wool' feeling that he always suffered when he napped and slid his feet into a pair of slippers. The rubber soles clicked softly on the wood floor as he padded into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water before heading upstairs. Glancing down the corridor towards the master bedroom he set his glass down on a small table in the hall and walked in the opposite direction. Stepping through the open door he smiled as he saw Elizabeth staring down into the crib, the look on her face reminding him of the first day he'd met her, an angelic air that seemed to make her timeless, perfect. A quiet snuffling from his right told him where Buster was lying and he reached down to pat the bullet head as he passed, rewarded with a quick lick against his wrist as the dog shifted slightly, permitting Johns intrusion the general vicinity of what John would swear Buster thought of as his own offspring.
John walked over and slipped his arms around Liz, still marveling six months on at just how much his wife had changed while carrying Paul, his body still remembering holding her like this back then, and how different, how right it had seemed to feel his son growing in the woman he loved. Liz sighed and slipped into his embrace, reaching back and running her fingers over the nape of his neck, utterly at peace in his arms.
How long they stayed like that neither of them could say but neither were in any rush to break the moment. At that time, in that place, John knew he had everything he could want in his life and he felt tears prick his eyes as he gazed at his son. A single tear fell landed on the curve of Liz's neck and she glanced up at the man she'd fallen in love with so many years ago on a beach hundreds of miles away. Time may have changed the details but she saw clearly the face she'd known, from the first moment she'd seen it, would be with her until her dying day. Smiling she turned in his arms, reached up and kissed him, her hands sliding over his cheeks and wiping away the wet track the remained. Breaking the kiss she walked softly to the door, turned and whispered to him: “Don't take to long love.”
John took one last look at his son, reached out and smoothed the blanket covering the tiny form, shaking his head in wonder. As he moved to the door he heard Buster pad over to the crib and, with a slight clink from his collar, stand up on his hind paws to look in. John grinned in the dark, Buster was so protective of Paul it was surprising the boy wasn't part Alsatian. Still, he thought, glancing back and seeing Buster lying down in front of the crib, his head towards the door alert as always, if anyone ever wanted to harm Paul, they'd better be willing to take on ten stone of pissed off Alsatian before hand.
Entering the bedroom he almost tripped over his own tongue. Liz was lying in bed, face down and seemingly asleep, her body covered by the thin sheet and, clearly, naked underneath it. From the end though, her smooth, perfect feet hung, the soles facing him, lit by the flickering light of a single candle sitting on the dressing table. Grinning he slid to the floor at the foot of the bed and placed his hands at the small of his back.
*********************
Even sitting inside the metal cocoon of the Mercedes John could hear the wind howling through the trees, whipping around the cloud draped hill as if it were alive, alive and angry and hungry. What should have been a gentle drizzle was torn apart and driven against the windows in a miniature storm. Common sense said to wait, it couldn't last forever after all and in a few minutes it would doubtless have eased enough to make the short walk more pleasant. But he knew full well there would be nothing pleasant about it, even if it were a perfect summers day, in truth he welcomed the foul weather, it seemed somehow appropriate for the task in hand. With a sigh he left his umbrella on the passenger seat, pulled his collar up around his throat and stepped into the world.
Immediately the wind pulled at his body, surprising him with its strength and chilling his flesh even through the thick wool coat that was lifted up, snapping around him, wings of darkness as he turned and started walking.
Step
Sunlight, crisp and pure, glanced off the white tops of waves as they broke against the shore, a day so perfect it was as if God himself had decided to show every artist that drew breath what a masterpiece truly was. The sand was fine beneath Johns bare feet, not golden but white, rising up into curving dunes and, far far beyond them, the green expanse of valleys and mountains that sheltered this bay from the harsh world outside. The sun itself was still low in the sky, the faintest hint of mist clinging to the very edges of the distant mountains, but none of this occupied his attention as he stared, enchanted at the sight before him.
The long, curving beach was practically deserted at this time of day, but even so a single towel was stretched out on the sand. Its owner however was not, opting instead for the cool waters of the bay, gliding through the small breakers about twenty yards from the shore as if born in the ocean. A cap of red hair spread out in the surface, slicked back to her skull as she powered her way over a larger than normal wave, tantalizing glimpses of flesh teasing and exciting him as he stood, spellbound, on the sands.
Suddenly he was moving, rushing down the beach towards the waiting water, pulling his t-shirt over his head and wading in up to his waist, not caring how much noise he made, or how little subtlety he was displaying. One thought alone consumed him, the urgent, desperate need to introduce himself, to hear this vision speak and learn her name. She must have seen his headlong dash as she'd stopped swimming and now floated in the water, waiting for him as he marched out to meet her.
“Good morning.” She said as he was still a few yards away “lovely day for a swim isn't it?”
God, John thought, her voice was beyond anything he could have expected, anything he'd dreamed of. Low, seductive, playful and all she'd done was say good morning. “Uh, yeah, yeah it's a great day for a swim.” He replied and winced at just how much of a tongue tied geek he must seem at that moment, sure he'd blown whatever slim chance he may have had.
To his surprise a soft laugh rewarded his stammered attempts. “Well, I must admit it's getting a little boring swimming alone, want to join me?” She asked, playfully splashing the surface and, somehow, managing to soak his face despite the distance.
“I... uh, yeah, yeah I'd love to.” John said, feeling both a goofy grin and his blush spread over his face.
“Come on then” she laughed, splashing him again.
“Alright I....” John took a step forward and felt the bottom drop away from his feet, the water closing over his head. He came back to the surface spluttering and brushing his hair away from his eyes. She was floating about ten yards away now, and the grin on her face was plain.
“Careful, it gets deep about there!” She yelled over to him before twisting and diving under the waves. With a single breath John followed her, the cool greens of the world beneath the surface relaxing him immediately as he caught a glimpse of her lithe form swimming in a straight line along the shore, seemingly cruising through the water. He felt an almost predatory mood take him and shot straight for her, closing the distance quickly. As he got closer he realized with a start just how stunning she really was. The water still made a clear view impossible, but even so he could see her long, shapely legs, leading up to a set of curves that could have stepped off the catwalk of the highest circles of fashions. Underwater her hair fanned out behind her, rippling like a liquid curtain as she seemed to slide through the water. Closer and closer he got, now barely five foot behind her and for a moment he saw a clear view of smooth skin, flawless arches and perfect toes. A moment was all the sight he got though as she twisted, turning along the length of her own body, dashing past him in a flash of flesh and fingers, fingers that trailed down his stomach and goosed his ribs, the motion slowed by the water but enough to tickle nonetheless. He gasped, instinctively tried to breathe in and came to the surface in a spluttering eruption, trying to clear the water from his eyes as he sucked air back into his lungs. Even as he recovered he felt something pass close by him underwater and another flash of fingers, this time against his thigh and he felt a most unmanly giggle escape his lips.
Not wanting to give her an easy target he dove back under the surface, back to the chase as she twisted and arced through the water like a fish. Again and again he tried to catch her, again and again she managed to evade his attentions and sneak brief, devastating, wonderful, teasing, tantalizing touches against his flesh, more often than not resulting in a repeat performance of his gasping rise to the surface. Over and over again... until finally he realized a way to trap her. Slowly, subtly he steered her towards the shore, towards the steep drop off where the ocean became a paddling pool. Once more she turned to attack, and once more he rose spluttering. This time though he had been ready for her and had managed to hold his breath, faking the laugh as he rose. She turned and swept back for another strike. He grabbed out as she went past and caught her thighs in a bear hug.
Instantly his hands were at her skin, wriggling and tickling as best he could under water. She gasped, howling with unexpected laughter as she found herself in the shallows with nowhere to twist or turn. She clawed and crawled her way forward, both of them fighting for air and control, John barely able to believe this was happening, that his hands were touching this beauty who hadn't even told him her name. Eventually they struggled to shore where, exhausted by her efforts, she lay on the white sands, her feet now trapped under Johns arm as he raked her soles.
“N...NO! Ssstoooop! PLEASE!” She laughed, exhaustion clear in her voice now.
“Tell me your name! Tell me your name and I'll stop.” John teased, twisting his fingers between her wriggling toes.
“E...E...Elizabeth!” She gasped. “It's Elizabeth!”
Instantly, though with more than a little regret, John stopped his assault, released her from his grasp and laid alongside her on the sand.
“Pleased to meet you Elizabeth, I'm John”. He said, and on the spur of the moment stuck out a hand.
As tired as she was Elizabeth managed a giggle at the curiously old fashioned gesture before taking his hand in hers and shaking with a strength that surprised him. A surprise that melted in the force of the next as she took his hand to her lips and started to kiss each finger in turn.
The rest of that day seemed to flow into a single melting pot of images and emotions, his entire being feeling freed and truly at peace for the first time he could remember. Yet despite it all there was one image that stayed with him, that overrode all else. Elizabeth's face titled to his, her head pillowed on his chest, whispering a simple message that thrilled him beyond measure.
“I love you.”
Step
Rain hammered down on the fabric a few feet above his head as John twisted in the sleeping bag, cursing the unseasonable weather as the chill air closed in, always looking for a way to slide down next to his skin. Grumbling to himself he had to admit that maybe camping out in the middle of April wasn't such a great idea after all, even the site manager hadn't quite been able to believe his eyes when he'd seen them pull in and ask for a pitch. They had the entire field to themselves, although that did assume there'd still be a field left come the morning and they weren't swept out to sea.
The sound of a zip being ripped open scythed through him and he glanced up, the dim outline of a female figure all he needed for reassurance that they weren't being robbed. Robbed, he thought with a snort, like any self respecting thief would be out on a night like tonight. From the living area of the tent he heard quiet cursing as the new arrival seemed to be inventing some new form of yoga to get out of her soaked waterproofs without getting the rest of her soaked in the process. As fascinating as the process was to watch John could feel the night air nipping at his flesh once more and rolled over, pulling the sleeping bag a little closer around him and almost immediately starting to doze off, lulled by the warmth and familiar scent on the fabric.
Only to be startled awake by someone yanking the zip down on the sleeping bag, diving in while somehow closing the zip behind them and a pair of lips finding his. For a moment he surrendered to the kiss, caught unawares and lost in the moment, in the pleasure and care it promised. A moment only though as the lips pulled back and a voice whispered in his ear.
“Hi handsome, mind if I join you?”
“I'm sorry Miss, I think you must have the wrong tent.”
“Oh well, that's just too bad, you don't mind if I spend the night do you, it's raining cats and dogs out there.”
“I don't mind, my wife might though.”
“Oh come on, she wouldn't object too much to finding a naked lady in your arms would she?”
“Well.... not if she could join in the fun I guess.”
“You pig!” Elizabeth laughed, kissing him again and moving closer to his body, her naked flesh chill against his skin. “And here I thought I was woman enough for you.”
“Hey Liz, you can't really blame me for wanting a menage a trois with you and your imaginary twin sister you know.” John teased, lifting his hands to pull her close in his embrace.
“Oh no?” She replied, and he picked up on the note of challenge a half second too late. Suddenly ten fingers were wriggling and writhing in his armpits and in a moment he was lost. Laughing without hope of control, any chance of fending her off dependent now on getting his own hands into play. A slim hope, and one that she quickly squashed by rolling to her right, trapping his hands between her and the airbed, holding him with her own body weight as she explored his flesh.
John felt an all too familiar feeling creep over him as he descended into hysterics and madness. Liz simply knew him too well, knew every spot and point on his body to send his senses into overdrive. Her fingers busied themselves in his armpits, dancing briefly down his sides and ribs, even traveling as far down as his waist, her breath tickling around his neck and ears, his roars of laughter matched by her own delighted giggling as she felt him writhe above her, reveling in the power she held over him, luxuriating in the sure and certain knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her no matter what she may do or how she provoked him.
John for his part felt his eyes cloud with tears, his entire body demanding relief now, strength seeping out of his muscles as he flopped down on top of his lover, his goddess. Over and over she explored his flesh, somehow managing to find new and interesting ways of tormenting him with every passing moment. Her tongue darting out to trace his collarbone as her fingers flew over his ribs. Her lips closing on his, swallowing his laughter as she wormed a finger down into his navel. The lightest of light touches teasing and tickling his cock and balls as she ground into his helpless body, and all the while his hands still trapped behind her flesh.
He felt her shift slightly, wrapping her thighs around him, her hips grinding against him as she pushed against his thigh. Her fingers returned to his armpits and dug in, hard, much harder than before. With renewed energy he howled and thrashed trying to pull his arms free, trying to get away from her, with no success. In seconds he felt her tense, a muffled cry escaping her lips as her body dove over the edge and into pure pleasure. For what seemed like an eternity he saw her face twisted in delight, and as always, he felt a pulse of shock and wonder at the fact she offered such a gift, such trust and affection, to him.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she came back to him, staring at him from half lidded eyes, a shadow of a grin visible on her face as she snuggled against him. Her lips moved up to his ear, whispering in a voice still shot through with pleasure. “Ohhh, you're wife is going to be pissed she missed that.”
Even in his current state John couldn't help but chuckle at the joke, aware as always his wife was that little bit faster on the draw than he. “But what's this....” Liz said, mock surprise in her voice as her fingers traced Johns straining member. “Does someone need a little relief of their own?”
It was all John could do to grunt as he was overwhelmed by the sensations she was causing with the barest touch of a fingertip.
“I love you” she whispered as she arched her back up and freed his hands, rolling with him into a ball of fingers, tongues, hair and anything else that came to hand to tantalize the senses.
Step
John woke with a start, finding himself lying on the couch, his hand still holding the copy of last weeks productivity report he'd been reading before he'd nodded off. Shaking his head to clear the familiar 'wrapped in cotton wool' feeling that he always suffered when he napped and slid his feet into a pair of slippers. The rubber soles clicked softly on the wood floor as he padded into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water before heading upstairs. Glancing down the corridor towards the master bedroom he set his glass down on a small table in the hall and walked in the opposite direction. Stepping through the open door he smiled as he saw Elizabeth staring down into the crib, the look on her face reminding him of the first day he'd met her, an angelic air that seemed to make her timeless, perfect. A quiet snuffling from his right told him where Buster was lying and he reached down to pat the bullet head as he passed, rewarded with a quick lick against his wrist as the dog shifted slightly, permitting Johns intrusion the general vicinity of what John would swear Buster thought of as his own offspring.
John walked over and slipped his arms around Liz, still marveling six months on at just how much his wife had changed while carrying Paul, his body still remembering holding her like this back then, and how different, how right it had seemed to feel his son growing in the woman he loved. Liz sighed and slipped into his embrace, reaching back and running her fingers over the nape of his neck, utterly at peace in his arms.
How long they stayed like that neither of them could say but neither were in any rush to break the moment. At that time, in that place, John knew he had everything he could want in his life and he felt tears prick his eyes as he gazed at his son. A single tear fell landed on the curve of Liz's neck and she glanced up at the man she'd fallen in love with so many years ago on a beach hundreds of miles away. Time may have changed the details but she saw clearly the face she'd known, from the first moment she'd seen it, would be with her until her dying day. Smiling she turned in his arms, reached up and kissed him, her hands sliding over his cheeks and wiping away the wet track the remained. Breaking the kiss she walked softly to the door, turned and whispered to him: “Don't take to long love.”
John took one last look at his son, reached out and smoothed the blanket covering the tiny form, shaking his head in wonder. As he moved to the door he heard Buster pad over to the crib and, with a slight clink from his collar, stand up on his hind paws to look in. John grinned in the dark, Buster was so protective of Paul it was surprising the boy wasn't part Alsatian. Still, he thought, glancing back and seeing Buster lying down in front of the crib, his head towards the door alert as always, if anyone ever wanted to harm Paul, they'd better be willing to take on ten stone of pissed off Alsatian before hand.
Entering the bedroom he almost tripped over his own tongue. Liz was lying in bed, face down and seemingly asleep, her body covered by the thin sheet and, clearly, naked underneath it. From the end though, her smooth, perfect feet hung, the soles facing him, lit by the flickering light of a single candle sitting on the dressing table. Grinning he slid to the floor at the foot of the bed and placed his hands at the small of his back.
