After steaming some milk frothy, and pouring it over her hot mocha, she sat on the couch and sipped slowly of the fragrant brew.  A little foam mustache rimmed her upper lip, and a hint of cardamom tinged her tongue as she licked it off. The little Alessi spoon circled the porcelain cup, stirring the chocolate from the bottom, bringing it into the head.  Streaks of white and brown swirled like a hurricane, speckles of brown spice dotted the cup. 

Her reverie remembering Georg carried her from kitchen to couch, where draped on Italian leather she reenacted a scene from one of their dates walking along the river bank.  Somewhere in Santa Fe, her waters fed the roots of hungry tamarisk and aspen.  Perhaps a seed was fertilized through their passionate enthusiasm for each other's nature. Georg had visited her over the years since their first encounter, each a different and delicious banquet of passion.  She felt a little hedonistic in his presence, and wondered when she'd see him again.  

The ringtone was set to the sound of hammer dulcimer.  Soft chimes, playing sweet and romantic melodies.  It never interrupted her, just pulled her attention to the call.  She could see Stefan's name flash across the screen, and she hesitated to pick it up too quickly.  She wanted to, yes, but she paused.  Before she got to the phone, it stopped ringing.  A message appeared on the screen and she clicked on the icon.  His voice, with its soft eastern european accents spoke gently into her ear. 

"Good morning, my dear Ruby.  It is Stefan calling to make our date for tonight.  I will be by to pick you up at 630, be ready for a picnic.  And lots of kisses.  Ciao."

A picnic?  Oh, that could be fun... it wasn't too cold yet at night, just a little chilly still, she'd have to figure out what dress to wear that she could sit on the ground with ease.  Long and loose and flowy enough to drape her, and move with her hips, nothing so cumbersome it could not be moved aside.  

She decided to text back, a simple message, Yes, I will be ready, xo, and sent it out knowing it would reach its destination as intended.  Their evening together had been so smooth, so silky, it was hard to imagine they were not on the same wave with each other.  Ruby stepped into the shower, selecting a woven sisal body cloth and some rose and sandalwood soap.  She formed a thick lather, working the bar back and forth in her hands, until its creamy suds were ready, and then stroked them up and back into her nooks and crannies.  The shower fell like soft rain on her, the shampoo of gardenia worked its way through her tresses, and her fingers painted the soap over her wet body.  Soon she was covered with the soft sheen of fragrant soap, tufts of froth decorating her as the mocha had this morning.  The razor burnished her, leaving skin soft as silk where it crossed .  Her juicy mound, still tender from the morning's dalliance,  tingled beneath her shower routine.  Her hands stroked each hip and cupped under each round of flesh.  Her finger stroked the top of the crevasse derriere, the scented foam falling over it and down the backs of her legs.  

Towelling off and combing her hair into wet ringlets, she then carefully covered each tip and bump, each fold and slit with soft cream.  It was said to be made of crushed gems and honey, but mostly it just felt delicious.   Her hair would dry in the breezes as she arranged her boudoir for company.  She did not know where he would take her tonight, but she knew where she would like the evening to end.  She opened the door to the balcony, allowing the sun and fresh air to do their magic, and she plumped the cushions on the divan that sat there, awaiting her return.  The candle on the table was fresh, matches were nearby, and the foot rest was cleared of little leaves.  Fronds of the palm tree cross over the balcony, filtering light from coming in, and the view from going out too much.  Enough privacy could be had.  

At 630 prompt, he arrived at the door, his grey eyes smiling as he took in her pampered self.  She wore the knotted pearl necklace, the cloisonne bead resting between her breasts.  He kissed her briefly, and looked past her to the apartment.  She had arranged soft lighting and Duke Ellington music in the background, it could be easily returned to later.  He reached behind her to pull the door closed and let his hand rest on her bottom for a moment as he kissed her again.  "Ruby, you look exquisite."

It was not long before their car trip turned down a little lane, and a small walk with a basket and blanket led to a little grassy lawn surrounded by overgrown hedges.  It looked like it should have been a sculpture garden, perhaps it was an old park left untended by the city.  The grass wasn't very high, but the garden appeared as if it had been forgotten by time.  An old iron fence showed flecks of rust under the twining vines and stems.  A Japanese maple shone in deep and vibrant reds, and gave them a carpet to lay their blanket upon.  

They had barely sipped the wine when he reached across and started kissing her again.  This time with more ferocity, more hunger than the night before.  He took her hand and pressed it into his crotch, his hard cock pushing back out at her.  Her hands undid the button, lowered the zipper and released it from captivity.  He lifted off her shawl, tugged her dress straps aside, and pulled out her breasts from the dress, cupping one and suckling, then the other.  The necklace rolled back against her throat like a choker, and he feasted on her decolletage.  Her fingers tenderly probed him, and he growled in delight.  He reached under her dress, pushing aside the flimsy garment she had decided to wear at the last.  Soft silk pants, with wide open legs.  He reached into her folds and stroked upwards and forwards with his thumb, while pressing down and deep with his finger.  His other hand pushed back her hair, and his mouth continued its hungry searching of her breasts.  

Ruby put her hand past the waist of his pants, and pushed them back to reveal his firm and clenching rear.  The moon light hit it just right, it looked like marble.  Her hand stroked and squeezed, pulling him to her.  He pulled himself back, up on his knees, arms straddling her, and gazed at her lying back on the blanket, surrounded by falling leaves and fanned out hair.  Her breasts lay like two mounds of pastry, topped with a raspberry each, and she quivered underneath him.  He slid his hands up her dress and slowly removed her little panties, carefully sliding them over her shoes.  They were folded and put in the picnic basket.  He sat up,  his hardon lifting up and out, and he slipped his slacks the rest of the way down to his ankles.  A breeze hit the dress, and lifted it gentle over her belly, her nether lips exposed to moonlight and his gaze.  Stefan bent down, lifting her hips with his arms, and took her into his mouth, kissing and sucking as hungrily has he had just moments before.  Ruby gasped and moaned, unable to contain her pleasure.  Her hips bucked and writhed under his command, her arms flailed and her breasts jostled free and wild.  Stefan found her weak spots and worked them with finger and tongue and lip and chin until she screamed out a little.  

"Stop, stop, I can't take it anymore," she cried finally, heaving in breathlessness. He looked up at her face from between her knees, and slowly kissed a trail back up to her bosom, stopping to rub his face between the two mounds of warm flesh.  He looped figure eights between both nipples, and then nibbled his way into the left nape of her neck, licking the dip behind her ear and then pulling the lobe into his mouth.   She had left her ears unadorned, and he was glad she had remembered such a detail.  Finally, Stefan pulled from her neck and held her gaze with his eyes.  His cock was pushing right up against her, his hips centered between her thighs, and his belly pressed firmly against her pubis, gently tugging upward as he plunged into kissing her.  He kept himself outside her gate, just gently knocking on the door, while he pulled her tongue into his mouth, and suckled her now swollen lips.  

Knock knock, he whispered as he kissed her.  Knock knock.  

 ******************* 

(Image is a mashup of an antique erotic shunga (by anonymous) and a little modesty courtesy of japanese maple leaf, both found by searching google.)