Cold returned and too the gray, but she remained as spring in spirit and day. Paying no mind to the outward signs, she dressed again in sweater of the season. Its loose of white and red and orange that glowed wore upon her as an ambiance that warmed and brightened all around.
Her smile to his catch of stare, their meet of eyes, both still made her blush though setting tan of sun-touched skin covered and hid it well on cheeks as sign in eyes still gave away.
She felt his eyes in follow as she moved through morning lithe; a lightness in her step and stand, like eyes, giving away.
Fall of his gaze carried beneath sweater’s cover-high, shape of her hips, tone of her legs, eyes’ follow traced their outer sides to feet and floor then rose along their inner lines; beauty at their meet, bare to see, beneath the sweater’s fall.
He desired then to kiss her. She desired to be kissed, held firm on her open, his legs and hips made same, to be stood and backed and pressed to wall, kissed more eager in her pin; first-frantic of their tongues tamed into slow, deep rolls; hold of her leg, lift and draw—fit of their bodies then; still strongly held, firmly pressed—slow, deep rollings of their tongues; high, plush warmth of sweater’s cover, his hand’s pin in between as, below it’s cover-fall, they matched; rhythmic-lovely of their bared and free, slow rolling as their tongues.