They were near neighbors and yet Rosanna rarely saw Bram Janssen for long enough so that they could talk and exchange more than simple pleasantries, a curt greeting spoken out as they passed each other in the narrow lanes that were so characteristic of their small village. The cluster of small properties, and new homes in old styles, were set among small shops, tourist galleries, and boutiques, many created from converted farm dwellings. The village lay snugly behind a range of dunes with its rough grasses, footpaths down to the wide stretch of beach, and the pine forests that kept the worst of the gales from the North Sea at bay.
The only explanation, for his comparative isolation, that she could think of was the break-up of a long-term relationship – she didn’t know if Bram had been married to the woman she had once seen him with – and Bram devoting all of his energy and creative instincts to his work at Atelier Janssen, his business that others told her had been born out of nothing save a creative instinct and a keen eye for what was possible. He used materials that most folk in the neighborhood would look on as rubbish.
Bram worked in gnarled and faded driftwood, the glass from beer bottles and soft drinks that he scavenged for on the beach or the trash cans dotted about the walkways through the dunes, and he crafted items in metal; often combining all three in his creations and that was to be seen in the small gallery at the front of his single-storey home with its boarded walls and mellow pantile roof. His workshop was an outbuilding set apart from the house and gallery, a tumble-down sort of place with a grassy path leading up to it. A sand bed, where he poured out molten glass, was within its boarded walls. Close by was a small furnace and a bed of coals where he created metal work as clients demanded. In a corner stood a weighty, rusty, anvil, a lathe, and a workbench, its battered surfaces testimony to the woodwork he carved and joined, turned, and shaped; all of them used as he decided on making or what a client might suggest he made for them. The rough brick floor was swept but never tidy. The remaining debris to be found lying about might have a use, so, on the floor, it was left but pushed to one side in a heap.
Rosanna saw his motorcycle, with its sidecar, that Bram had parked some way up the narrow path and out of the way. She had seen him about on it and remembered how exhilarating it felt to be seated behind a boyfriend controlling such a machine, her thighs gripping his hips and the trills in her body that moving over an uneven road surface so often aroused. Such moments were long gone.
‘Are you getting ready for the open day, Bram?’ she called out, this time choosing to stop and engage him in conversation. Rosanna had only heard of him and his artist’s ways, a creator of bespoke pieces that gained him a reputation and new work by word of mouth. The bigger pieces, fashioned both in glass and driftwood, were already set out on a boarded deck you stepped up to from the lane.
A smile creased his bearded face as Bram swept back his luxuriant black hair with both hands. His work made him strong and agile, she couldn’t help but notice, and she was glad to have decided on stopping and talking to him. She had wondered how to bring that about but the moment seemed to have arisen, unplanned. What was so wrong if she was suddenly overwhelmed by an attraction to him? He was not a teenage boy but a strong, somewhat burly, man in his early thirties, his thickening stubble beard making him look older but ruggedly handsome. There seemed not to be a single self-obsessed nerve in his body.
‘Yes, unsold pieces will be put on display. I need the room so I’m letting some of it go for less than what I had hoped for. Are you out for your usual walk, Rosanna?’
He looked at her, then away. He was no good at banter, easy chit-chat, but there was something about her that now made him take the opportunity to talk and not just pass the time of day.
Bram eyed the woman before him and was taken by her unflinching stare as she met his gaze, her pleasant sing-song voice at odds with her rebellious sense of dress for a woman of her age. White denim slacks flattered slender legs, the mock-crocodile skin belt cinched tight at her waist and a sleeveless cotton vest shaping her figure and exposing her slender arms, her bony wrists adorned by a multitude of colorful bracelets, all of it lending her a rebellious look. A flash of color was offered by a bandana that had been wrapped tightly around her head to keep Rosanna’s auburn hair, with its blonde highlights, free of her somewhat long, but elegant, face.
She didn’t look her age or behaved in that way.
‘I’m finished with setting up so…so come in for a drink?’ he asked impulsively. ‘I’m offering chilled fruit juices to anyone who wants one while they look around…and buy something, I hope.’
‘Yes, thank you, I’d like that,’ she said to his back. Bram had already turned away and she wondered what to do, whether to follow him or to look at the pieces on display. They were very good, iconic one-off pieces, and she wondered at the experience already gained in a man still young.
The drink he offered soon loosened her tongue and she told him about what had brought her to living alone in this isolated village with artists all around, cafés with their terraces, the changing scenery with the seasons, and what she did for work, still, but through shortened working days.
‘Being married closed me in and after the divorce I soon threw off the retrained ways that went with that and I became the woman I once was, even going back to how I was in my ‘naughty teens’. I saw your motorbike…I had boyfriends with them, then…’
Rosanna stopped talking as she saw him grab a drawing pad and a piece of charcoal.
‘Go on, I can draw and talk at the same time you know?’ he laughed, casting an appraising glance Rosanna’s way as she sat on the bench he had placed on the terrace. There was no mistaking the press of her pebbled nipples against the fabric of her top, intentional or not as it was to have him see her in this way, now that they were together. ‘People may stop by on seeing us out here…’
‘That’s why you asked me in,’ she laughed, teasingly, ’they may think I’m a customer.’
‘It’s one of many reasons,’ he acknowledged, smiling, and finding it difficult not to feel horny about the woman before him, just from the look of her. He’d had his wilder times with women but none quite as old as Rosanna. She intrigued him. ‘I’ve not asked anyone, but I guess you’re divorced?’
‘Yes, just like you are, only I decided to find out.’ It was said as she gave him a challenging look and a pouted smile and took the glass of juice that he held out. She couldn’t miss the ripples of his arm muscle as he did that. ‘The isolation out here doesn’t bother you?’
‘No,’ he shrugged meaningfully. ‘I can meet those I want to meet and when I want to do that. Now, sit still for a moment so that I can draw you…’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ve got an idea for a piece of molten glass. It will take me a while to make so you’ll have to be patient…’
‘Get away!’ she retorted sharply. ‘You’re not making it off me!’
Bram answered her with a stilled look of his own. ‘Is that a problem? It would be a likeness, no more. It would be difficult to catch your spirit in plain glass, so it would be your hair, your slender face, and graceful neck…’
‘Now you’re teasing me!’ she laughed out, ‘and we’ve only just met for real.’
‘Things can happen. Now go on, you were telling me about how it once was…and sit still!’
She did as he asked of her, sat sideways on the bench so that he could see her properly and she could take him in, the look of him in his dressed down ways. She met the appraising look of his eyes upon her as the charcoal scratched the paper.
‘I dated men, did that with the same ones a few times but it never clicked. I wanted to misbehave but not with any of them, The ‘naughty girl’ in me couldn’t be let out again so I lay in my garden here, out in the sun, and seemed to wind up one of the neighbors. He just couldn’t stop peering at me as I sunbathed…topless sometimes…and I had to grab a blouse and cover myself again. Then his wife came round and said I shouldn’t be doing that except when it was clear he wasn’t around…or anyone else could see me.’
‘Do it on a weekday only?’ Bram queried, laughing.
‘You got it!’ she laughed too, ‘but I took the hint and he’s not bothered me ever since.’
Rosanna shifted on the seat as he worked on his sketches.
‘I’m almost through…’
While she told him her story he sensed her being flirty, that Rosanna was pleased for the chance to talk, although what a woman, of her age, would want from a guy so much younger than she was intrigued him. Could she be looking for some action with a younger man, like him? And yet he found her only too attractive and he tried to take all of her in, what she’d bring to his sight and touch if it went nearly so far. As he sketched he could look at her closely and not have Rosanna think what lay behind his eyes, what was at work in him. Her face intrigued him, but he wouldn’t deny that her sleeveless top delighted him, what was so wonderfully shaped underneath that thin film of cotton cloth. Her slenderness made her breasts seem all the larger, her tummy flatter and he needed little more to imagine the woman’s naked form. It aroused a riot of lustful thoughts that a lonely existence made all the keener.
‘Divorce makes you more careful…makes you take your time before you live it out with someone else,’ he chose to confess.
‘You’re right there.’
Her smile captivated him and while he had not pursued, let alone gone with, an older woman there was something about her manner and appearance that drew him in. When she had gone, and he dealt with the day ahead and hoped for sales of surplus items, he might find a moment to explain how aroused he had become while looking at the woman and talking and imagining how it would go between them.
He closed the distance between them as the drawing pad was held out to her. ‘Look, this is the woman I see and will make a glass statuette of…or a profile disc to hang on a wall or fix to a driftwood stand. I might even call it ‘Woman on the Beach.’’
She gasped, looking at it and then up at him. Rosanna stood up. ‘I look much too young there!’
‘It’s the woman I saw and that I see now…so hang onto that, Rosanna.’
She stood close to his side and touched his arm for an instant. More people passed along the footpath in front of his studio and their presence acted as a restraint on what she felt compelled to say and do. ‘I could be a friend to you.’
‘You could be…’ he replied, looking back at her.
‘Oh shit…shit!’ Her curses were followed by the rattle of her glass on a table and a distracted look his way as Rosanna glanced at her chunky watch.
‘Forgotten something?’
‘Yes!’ My daughter’s supposed to be here by now, at my house. I’ve completely lost track of the time. We were going to walk around and see all the exhibitors…have lunch as we went.’
‘Then call in again later, here, perhaps?’ he asked, tilting his head in inquiry. ‘It’s as well that you have to leave me, I’ve got to get on too.’
‘You should have said…I’d’ have made some allowances,’ she retorted in soft rebuke, meeting his look upon her. ‘Are you happy I stayed?’
He laughed softly at her direct ways of questioning him. ‘Yes, more than I dare say on a first time.’
On that he watched her go, Rosanna’s purposeful strides making her long hair flow and the bandana fly on the sea breeze. How could he have missed all the smallest of details about her? How was he to deal with an evident infatuation with the woman and her natural responses to the attention that he had paid to her, discreet as they were?
He hoped that his ‘luck’ in persuading her to spend some time with him again later, would flow into the hours of the afternoon and bring him some sales of finished pieces. The form and color of the glass statuette he intended to make of her were gaining shape in his mind, even as he thought of her and his first visitors stepped onto the deck and entered his small ‘gallery’.
Work would have to take precedence over pleasing thoughts of a woman who brought so much, even if she was older than him and had her kids, or a daughter, to think of through the afternoon.
♥
The bowls that he had heated and melted to form a more fluid shape, that fitted snugly onto a wooden base, sold well and quickly. He had none left and Rosanna might be disappointed. He had seen her dwell and look at one in particular, the light blue glass a pleasing contrast to the sun-bleached wood of the old tree root that he had fashioned to hold it firmly.
Along with those, he also sold a shapeless base but with an extended root carved to form the long and graceful neck of a stork, its bill sharp and evocative of the bird’s head, and a bead of light blue sea glass forming each eye. And then he had sold off afterthoughts, circles of wooden sticks .that had been interwoven to form wall art. They were easy to make and were a source of ready cash. The success of the afternoon would ensure that he could concentrate on what the rest of the day might offer.
‘How clever of you to make them all,’ she had enthused and, again, on a touch to his arm as they looked at all that was on display.
‘I learned about it along the way. I gave up a business career to have more control of my life, to live on the wilder side and the income always uncertain.’ He stopped from saying that he had family money put by, a ‘reserve’. It had yet to be touched, as he wanted it to be.
They had met and he now hoped they would move on from banal exchanges and pleasantries.
♥
He thought that he must have fallen under Rosanna’s spell for he had been startled to feel her touch to his bare arm. It might not be the moment for them to talk or for him to confront the reality, that it might not be such a good idea for a younger man to be getting involved wither, too deeply. But when she showed up at his gallery, and home, once more, Rosanna had changed, the sunny weather and the absence of any sea breeze making the late afternoon so very warm.
‘You’ve changed too,’ she observed as he stood before her in a pair of khaki beach shorts and a V-neck shirt hanging loose, faded deck shoes on his feet. ‘May I introduce, Tonie…my daughter? I told her of your work and I hope there’s some left for her to see. What you had on display is all sold I can only assume.’
‘Yeah, it went surprisingly well,’ he smiled at each of them in turn. ‘No sooner had you left me than the first buyer showed up.’
They went inside and he told Tonie of the larger pieces and their creation, glancing at Rosanna’s way and admiring the coral pink flouncy beach dress that she wore over her white slacks. Only now did he take in her painted toenails that poked out from her sandals. Her feet were large but graceful, the movement of her hand, as she brushed away at her loosely hanging hair, keeping his look upon her for longer than was intended.
‘Tonie’s dropped me off on her way back to her home in town, in Alkmaar…it’s…it’s good to see you again,’ she confided in a whisper before she called out to Tonie. ‘Do you like that piece?’
They stood before what looked like a giant snail, the twists in a stump of wood fixed solidly on a base that was curved up at one end, two thin and gnarled sticks buried into it to make the piece look like a giant snail crawling on the table that it stood on.
‘No, or it’s not my thing,’ Tonie shivered. ‘It’s clever, the idea behind it, though.’ She pointed at a wall light, the small candle lamp shining through pale blue-green glass set into a raggedly shaped lump of driftwood. ‘I like this more…’ Rosanna and Bram looked on and saw Tonie nod as she studied the ticket. ‘I can take it away with me now. The piece is fairly priced…’
‘And I’ve got a box it can go in. I’ll wrap it up while you wait… there are some fruit drinks left.’
‘We’re fine,’ Rosanna assured him and followed his progress until he was out of sight.
‘You’re not into him, are you?’ Tonie asked in disbelief when they were alone and drifted from one item on display to another. ‘He’s good-looking and gifted in what he makes, but…but he’s too young if you’re thinking of going on a date…waiting on him to ask you out while the art festival’s on. People would soon talk in a small place like this.’
‘You’re dating again, are you?’ Rosanna retorted. ‘If you are then why shouldn’t I, or am I thought to be past all that? Besides, age doesn’t matter…who it is that you’re dating does.’
‘You don’t know him…’
‘All the more reason, then, to me find out…if it were to go that far, and it hasn’t.’
‘Yet, but I’ve noticed how he looks at you…Mother.’
Rosanna turned on hearing Bram’s steps in the passageway beyond. She wondered if it led to his home and what that might be. ‘There you are!’
‘Yeah, I had to find the box that the lamp bulb came in. I don’t want that to break and it helps you to know what to order again when the time comes. I’ll carry it all out to your car…’
Tonie detained her for only a moment as Bram went out to her car. ‘Be careful, there’s no rush after all that’s happened, Mother.’
‘It’s the reason why I’ve waited to know someone interesting, my darling girl. Now go, and drive safely.’
♥
‘Has it been a long day for you?’ she asked when they were alone, ‘or may I stay a while longer?’
‘The answer’s yes, to both of those questions,’ he replied easily. ‘I’ll change into something a little smarter and then we could go for a drink, walk through the village, or if you dare…we take the motorcycle. I could clear out the sidecar for you…’
His smile suggested it was a challenge that she had to take up.
‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of Tonie,’ she began, looking at him to judge his reaction, ‘but I just want to go out and have some fun…no strings or commitments. You must feel that way too?’ She paused. ‘Yes, we go out on your machine…go to that place in the dunes and get lost in the crowds at that beach club and bar.’
‘It doesn’t bother me being seen with you if that’s on your mind.’
‘Me neither, but let’s just get used to the idea. We haven’t been together until this morning, now I’m going out on a date…’
Bram laughed and pointed at her. ‘That’s true, we look at it as a date.’
He would push his doubts to one side. Rosanna’s attractiveness and lively personality would take away any second thoughts and, if she had them too, they would see where the evening took them.
♥
She whooped out of simple delight as the wind caught her hair. It poked out from under his bicycle helmet and caught the slipstream, the small Perspex windshield fixed to the coaming of the sidecar, in front of her, failing in its purpose. Bram didn’t think of that, but of how she looked, adventurous and carefree, Rosanna’s thin blouse shaping her and the sight making him wonder if she was wearing a bra; her breasts seen to press against the fabric and appearing different from when they had first stopped to talk earlier in the day. Happy glances were exchanged and they laughed as the road twisted and turned, meandered through the polder land, the dunes, and its forested tree cover before them.
Bram pulled in under the trees, the roadside parking lot close to a path that led into the woods and the dunes beyond. He watched as Rosanna shook out her hair and fingered it until it fell naturally on each side of her face, a haphazard parting lending it an even more mussed appearance.
‘You do look good,’ he murmured as she met his appraising glance, her soft answering smile followed by a touch to his back as he bent to push his helmet and hers deep into the sidecar. A stiffening breeze rushed through the woodland and clouds drifted above them and blotted out the evening sky, then cleared. ‘Come on, a short walk before that drink we owe each other…’
They found an isolated bench seat under the trees and sat down, Bram putting an arm about her shoulders and Rosanna gripping his hand. as it brushed her blouse at her breast. She breathed out slowly and twisted to look up at him.
‘We can let go, but slowly, can’t we?’
He met her challenging stare before he leaned in to kiss her, to slick his tongue tip over Rosanna’s parted lips. ‘Yes, while we understand what’s happening…you being with a younger guy…what people might say. It’s feelings overcoming reason…’
She pulled away. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘No, but I’m adjusting to what is happening.’
‘Two people out having fun in the evening, that’s all…with no thoughts of the future. We live out today, let’s just start with that, shall we?’
He laughed softly as she nestled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘They’re my thoughts exactly.’
‘Good,’ she smiled, her eyes looking searchingly into his before she lifted her face to kiss him, to have that linger. ‘Don’t think too far ahead. We can see each other if that’s how it’s to go, and we weave our little spell on each other…enjoy every moment in between you working at your craft and me getting by.’
‘True, and we stop if either of us meets someone else. Tonie, your girl, will wonder what happened…’
‘Her mother found her way in life again, that’s what,’ she retorted sharply. ‘Even so, she won’t get to hear of it, whatever happens between us. We enjoy our secret until the time is right to speak about it.’
She was coaxed to straddle his hips and they kissed, became oblivious to the rush of wind through the trees and the darkening skies beyond the swaying canopies. His hands traveled under her blouse and he pressed the palms of his hands over the swell of Rosanna’s breasts before closing around them.
Rosanna languished under his pleasurable claims upon them and groaned through their kisses as his fingers worked her achingly hard nipples. She slowly eased out of his embrace, clung to his head, bent to kiss him deeply, swirled her tongue in his mouth as Bram caressed her back, and pulled her down onto the swell in his pants. She felt the cramps of longing and moisture in her pussy, brushed over the swell of his prick, and moved as if to dry fuck him. ‘I sure want to feel the way I do but we can’t go on…not here.’
‘We’ll have to dance the feelings away…’
Rosanna held out her hands to him as she stood up. ‘Yes, let’s see where that takes us.’
Ona laugh she scampered away, down the forest path and to his motorcycle, Bram following and his hands soon trailing under her blouse as Rosanna leaned forward to retrieve her helmet. She languished once more in his embrace upon her, stilled the progress of his caresses as one hand cupped her mound, and rhythmically pressed the rough fabric of her slacks against her spot.
‘I won’t be able to keep away from you for long, restrain myself from really being with you.’
‘I know and feel that too, but we said we’d go slow. There’s pleasure in the waiting…’
‘I’ll have to try and believe that. Right now, I feel otherwise.’
They lingered at the side of his motorcycle, the trees above them sighing and rustling in the freshening breeze. There seemed every chance that it might rain and they were quite unprepared for that.
♥
‘Buy one, just one summer cocktail,’ she told him as they stood at the bar and waited to draw a bartender’s attention. The noise of the music that came from the dance area outside made it hard to be heard. Rosanna leaned in and breathed out the words in his ear. ‘We’ll share it…you have to drive that machine home don’t forget!’
‘After some time here!’ he laughed in reply. ‘You can still boogey, can’t you?’
‘Of course!’ With the drink paid for he watched her sip slowly, the drink to her liking because it took Rosanna a while to pass the tumbler with its sugar-coated rim over to him. She was seen to sway to the beat of the music before she let out a cry of joy. ‘Come on, let’s dance!’
‘Do I finish this?’ he asked as he felt her tug on his arm, ‘or do we dance?’
They gulped down the heady mix of the tropical cocktail they had decided to share and were soon dancing to the beat and working up a sweat, Bram unable to hide the fact that he was gazing at what she brought to his sight and fleeting touches, the warmth of her that excited the perfume she had applied to her skin and that drew him in, all of that enjoyed as they danced energetically and deeply involved with each other. Whoever knew and saw them behaving in this way, could make of it what they wanted. He never let his attention slip from Rosanna and, after a while, he noticed that the cocktail, the warmth of the evening, and his touches, were affecting her.
Rosanna danced wilder and closer to him, keeping perfectly to the music’s rhythm and teasing him with her body as if they were used to such intimacies being shared, in public or not. He responded in kind and soon they were dancing like lovers to the beat.
At one point she rubbed her ass hard against his groin and he knew that she would have felt his erection, the hard swell in his cargo pants because she turned, smiled, and called out with her lips pressed to his ear, ‘You’re paying me a huge compliment!’
‘You are a very hot lady and dancer along with it! So, I can’t help but be captured by you and what we’re doing!’ he yelled back.
She laughed and continued the dance, making further suggestive movements that had him wondering if anyone noticed how they were together, the young stud enraptured by his older, brazen, lover who was out to have a good time and didn’t mind who knew it. Locals who saw him would wonder how this had all come about, the reclusive artist now acting differently and with an older woman on his arm, a woman so clearly involved with him.
They would ease up, go only so far in talking to each other and no further. It was what Rosanna had said how she wanted it to be. The woman had revealed how far she had already fallen in becoming involved with him, but he had decided that pleasure should come at them in a rush before the reality of their differences rushed in like an unstoppable tide.
♥
The choice had to be made whether to cut the evening short and rush home or to prolong the moments of flirtatious, even lustful, the companionship they had fallen into and to do so in the shelter of a woodsman’s shelter. It was shielded from the road and the path into the woods passed not so far away.
But who would be out when the skies threatened rain and the distant rumbles of thunder reached them?
Brazenly, Rosanna drew close and reached out to hold his head, rose on tiptoes to kiss him passionately, squirming as his hands caressed her skin under the flimsy blouse, Bram lifting it, just enough, to press his lips to the tumble of her naked breasts.
‘Yes…yes, g on, suck them,’ she gasped as his lips tugged on her nipples and she held his head to keep his pleasing of her intense. Rosanna pulled on his hair, and guided him in his taking of her nipples, one then the other, as he sucked and tugged, his actions becoming wilder and more intense.
‘Don’t touch me…grope me or I’ll lose it, want to take you here and now,’ he groaned as they fell into pursuing claims on each other. ‘We can do this in my place…or I meet you at yours.’
The thunder rumbled overhead and Rosanna knew that her plans to proceed slowly would be strained to breaking point, might even be wrecked; she wanted him to take her body and shatter her resolve not to succumb but not to appear too easy.
‘Take me home!’ she said at last and gently eased out of his embrace upon her, his eyes so still as he gazed at her naked breasts before the blouse was eased down to cover them. ‘I’ll be with you in every way that matters to us, but not tonight. Let me get used to what’s happening…’
‘The older woman with her young admirer…the maker of a glass image of her?’
‘Yes…yes!’ she replied with halting breaths as he embraced her once more, unable to end their time together so quickly, and she felt his warm breaths on her throat, his kisses to her skin, the gentle press of his lips to her ears as he embraced her. She reached between them and felt how hard he was. ‘Sorry…sorry…I can’t let go so quickly! I just can’t!’
‘And I understand, believe it or not,’ he kissed his voice low and understanding. ‘It’s all happened rather quickly…’
‘But we love it nonetheless?’
‘Yes, now let me get you home before the rain comes down. We can’t have your neighbors seeing us come home with our clothes wet and shaping you. I should be the one to enjoy that sight…’
‘And you will.’
‘Give me a few days, two or so, and I’ll be able to show you the beginnings of the glass piece I’m going to make of you…a silhouette. It will be quicker to produce.’
‘Make it real, that’s all I ask,’ she smiled, gazing at him now with a new and uncommon fondness. She really could get lost with him, in and out of her bed.
That moment would soon be upon them.
♥
Some days ago he had slewed his machine to a stop a few houses short of her place, their first evening out together brought to an end by Rosanna’s decision that they had expressed themselves on the dance floor, and then during a stop not far from where the evening had begun for them.
But to deny what had happened was impossible and phone calls begun by one, or the other, had alerted them to what could not be denied, an attraction that had to be consummated, to be given full expression, and that finally brought Rosanna back to his door, the sharing of a flurry of deepening kisses and the rush to undress each other as he closed the door to the outside world.
It was late in the evening, the village in darkness save for an isolated streetlight that dimly showed the way. Rosanna did not need that; she did of him.
‘What do you want you wonderful woman?’ he asked again, his voice husky and his hands roaming over her body.
‘All of it, what you bring and want to do with it and with me. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. Make me feel that I’m your woman.’
‘How you get to me, have gotten to me,’ Bram growled and pressed his hand more firmly against her mound, slipped his hand over her shaven skin, and pressed fingers into her wet slit, caressed and slowly pushed fingers into her in a slow, mesmerizing swirl.
‘Oh yes. Go on like that,’ she moaned, her body trembling and feeling like it was on fire. His slow questing touches felt perfect, so right for the moment. They weren’t rushed but pleasing for their slow intensity.
He forced her legs wider and without a word caressed and fingered her, bent to kiss the tumble of her breasts and offered to suck kisses to her nipples, pushed up the tumble of skin and kissed underneath them, slicked his tongue in tantalizing swirls over erect buds.
Rosanna couldn’t stifle her groans of pleasure. She felt as if she would come from the sensations aroused by his fingers and tongue. He knelt before her, between her legs and she raised them before he trailed kisses over her skin, from her feet up and over her thighs before he pressed his face once more to her slicked heat.
His large rough hands covered each breast and brushed over her nipples, one then the other, their roughness making her feel that they were being scraped by a ruffian, not by the hands of a craftsman. Her breasts had always been sensitive but now she trembled and squirmed under the claims made upon them, every nerve in them, in her straining nipples, feeling so alive and seeming to grow larger in response to the claims made upon her.
‘Do what you want with them!’ she yelped when his mouth clamped down on one, her whole body jerking and quivering as she felt her love juices leak out of her pussy. ‘Yes, I’m ready for you…I can’t stop what’s happening because of you!’
‘Did you cum?’ he asked, looking down and using his agile fingers to smear her juices over her pussy’s swollen lips. She lifted her head off the bed to look down at what he was doing so expertly; arousing a raging sense of longing for him, the effect that they had on each other needing no words.
‘You’ll know when I cum…when I do that,’ she groaned and squirmed to take hold of his pole of flesh.
‘In a moment or two, there’s no rush, is there?’
She gave no answer but gasped as his mouth closed over her pussy’s lips and his hard tongue darted into her and pressed against her clit, the smoothness of his licks followed by the roughness of his clamping lips on her most sensitive place, the tip then dipping deeper into her and reaming out her love hole.
‘Go on …go on,’ she purred, her hands on his head and keeping him to her, every movement of her hips trying to get more of his tongue into her. ‘Oh fuck…fuck…this is crazy!’
She shuddered, dug her hands into his shoulders as she failed to hold anything back and she squirted, writhed under him as Bram’s nose rubbed her clit. Her writhing body shook and shuddered, jerked for what felt like an age of pleasure as it slowly fell away and left her feeling weak, her skin warm and her bones like jelly.
‘I wanted to do that for you,’ he kissed as she came down from her highs and he embraced her through the last tremors. ‘We’ve got all night, haven’t we?’
She nodded and lay against him, spooned, sand gripped his questing hand as Bram sought her breasts once more. They ached, along with her legs and she wondered how it would be, the after-effects of her having taken her young lover’s long and thick penis into her slender body and they had rutted until there was nothing left. His ways of oral sex had wasted her. What would she have left after they had loved…fucked…screwed in a frenzy of shared body heat? She would have to encourage a union of bodies, to join experience with boundless energy and strength.
‘What do you want, you wonderful woman?’ he asked again, his voice husky and his hands roaming over her body.
She couldn’t remember when she had last felt this way, failed relationships littering her life but her wish to move on never faltered. The right man and at the right time was all that she needed and the wild artist in Bram, his vision and imagination, set him apart from others. Their age differences really shouldn’t matter but the fact gnawed at her conscience, nevertheless. Flings were all very well but she also wanted more.
‘All of it, what you bring and want to do with it and with me. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. Make me feel that I’m your woman.’
‘How you get to me, have gotten to me,’ Bram growled and pressed his hand more firmly against her mound, slipped his hand over her shaven skin, and pressed fingers into her wet slit, caressed and slowly pushed fingers into her in a slow, mesmerizing swirl.
‘Oh yes, go on like that!’ she moaned, her body trembling and feeling like it was on fire. His slow questing touches felt perfect, so right for the moment. They weren’t rushed but pleasing for their slow intensity.
He forced her legs wider and without a word caressed and fingered her, bent to kiss the tumble of her breasts and nipped sucking kisses to her nipples, pushed up the tumble of skin and kissed underneath them, slicked his tongue in tantalizing swirls over erect buds.
Rosanna couldn’t stifle her groans of pleasure. She felt as if she would come from the sensations aroused by his fingers and tongue. He knelt before her, between her legs and she raised them before he trailed kisses over her skin, from her feet up and over her thighs before he pressed his face once more to her slicked heat.
‘So warm…your skin’s so smooth,’ he kissed, delighting in her and every crease and hollow.
His large rough hands covered each breast and she felt them brush over her nipples, one then the other, their roughness making her feel that they were being scraped by a ruffian, not by the hands of a craftsman. Her breasts had always been sensitive but now she trembled and squirmed under the claims made upon them, every nerve in them, in her straining nipples, feeling so alive and seeming to grow larger in response to his claims.
‘Do what you want with them!’ she yelped when his mouth clamped down on one, her whole body jerking and quivering as she felt her love juices leak out of her pussy. ‘Yes, I’m ready for you…I can’t stop what’s happening because of you!’
‘Did you cum?’ he asked, looking down and using his agile fingers to smear her juices over her pussy’s swollen lips. She lifted her head off the bed to look down at what he was doing so expertly; arousing a raging sense of longing for him, the effect that they had on each other needing no words.
‘You’ll know when I cum…when I do that,’ she groaned and squirmed to take hold of his pole of flesh.
‘In a moment or two, there’s no rush, is there?’
She fell back on the bed and gave no answer but gasped as his mouth closed over her pussy’s lips and his hard tongue darted into her and pressed against her clit, the smoothness of his licks followed by the roughness of his clamping lips on her most sensitive place, the tip then dipping deeper into her and reaming out her love hole.
‘Go on …go on,’ she purred, her hands on his head and keeping him to her, every movement of her hips trying to get more of his tongue into her. ‘Oh fuck…fuck…this is crazy!’
She shuddered, dug her hands into his shoulders as she failed to hold anything back and she squirted, writhed under him as Bram’s nose rubbed her clit. Her writhing body shook and shuddered, jerked for what felt like an age of pleasure as it slowly fell away and left her feeling weak, her skin warm and her bones like jelly.
‘I wanted to do that for you,’ he kissed as she came down from her highs and he embraced her through the last tremors. ‘We’ve got all night, haven’t we?’
She nodded and lay against him, spooned, sand gripped his hand as Bram sought her breasts once more. They ached, along with her legs and she wondered how it would be, the after-effects of her having taken her young lover’s long and thick penis into her slender body and they had rutted until there was nothing left. His ways of oral sex had wasted her. What would she have left when they loved…fucked…screwed in a frenzy of shared body heat?
‘Are you okay, rested after that?’ he asked after a while.
‘Yes, but you’re not…you want it all and from me.’
She moved to lie on her side, against him, trailing caresses and kisses down his chest and over his stomach, her fingers smoothing over the ridges of his muscles before she moved and kissed him there; ran her tongue over his skin and nibbled gentle kisses onto his belly. His erect penis trembled and jerked and she took hold of that gorged member, swirled her tongue over its domed tip then flickered her tongue tip over it.
‘Go on…I love what you’re doing to me.’ The tug of his hands on her hair persuaded her to proceed.
She opened her mouth and he just slid in, did not hesitate to push his dick to the back of her throat, and held it there for a second. He was looking down at her, and she was looking up at him. They stared into each other’s eyes. He loved the feeling of the tip of his dick hitting the back of her throat over and over again. She never gagged, just made little noises of abandonment to the moments she had discovered and now pursued with him.
His penis jerked and trembled. She heard his sharp intakes of breath and felt his hands in her hair as she worked him with her mouth, trailing her fingernails over his skin from his chest down to what she was claiming in slow sucks and gentle clamps on his sac.
‘Don’t mark me with those nails of yours!’ he commanded hoarsely, his calls not coaxing her to ease up. Her continuing kisses to his belly, the slicks of her tongue to his shaft, made it jump. She could tell that he loved how she worked with him.
‘I’ll do this instead,’ she smiled, looking up at him, but Bram’s eyes were closed, the lids fluttering as she took him with her mouth and hands; slowly jacked him off. His sharp intakes of breath and movements of his hips were in time with her slow, expert, and persistent claims upon him. ‘You’ll break me with what you have.’
She had moved to kiss him, her hand still working his pole of flesh, her tugs stretching it as her tongue swirled in his mouth. She felt the sticky warmth of precum slick the glistening hood of his penis and she moved to have it baste her lips before she returned to kissing him.
‘Wild…you’re wild and I’m loving it!’ he called out to her.
She was ready for him, for that arcing and trembling pole of flesh and she reached for it as Bram moved to kneel between her legs once more. She grabbed it hard and pulled on it just to let him know how far she had gone to make ready to be plugged by what he brought. It was strong and beautiful, so much a part of the arty man she had wanted to stop and talk to, and yes to be fucked by, for so long.
Now, he rubbed that hooded tip over her slit and her parted lips, before he slowly pushed against her pussy, entered enough to offer circling caresses as he moved his hips and pushed down. She opened wider to let him in, her hands gripping his arms as she looked down.
‘Slowly…slowly, darling man,’ she groaned as his thrusts opened the way and he went in deeper. She had to relax some more, fingered herself as he pushed, leaned forward to gaze into her eyes as he coaxed her to open the way. He kissed her, tugged upon her nipples with his lips, and she saw that he was straining to prevent himself from thrusting in and seeking her deepest places without restraint or consideration for her.
She cupped his face with her hands and met his kisses. ‘Relax, do that for me, please…it doesn’t hurt. I just need to get used to what you bring to me. You’ll soon be there.’
She succumbed to a new sensation, not one of pain but of fullness. Looking down and brushing her hands over his belly she touched the base of his shaft with her nails. He jerked away and then tamped down into her and she felt him get harder, thrust deeper, and increase the swirling rotation and thrusts of his hips.
‘Now, woman, go at your own pace…use what I have to please yourself and me.’
She clung to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and thrashed her feet on the bed until she wrapped them around his body. She tugged and jerked, twisted underneath him, and clamped around his driving penis, his hips meeting her buttocks and their shared movements making the bed dip and rock, the sharp creaking of the bedframe to be heard.
He moved, his embrace crushing her, until he lay back. She was in control now, sat on him, and lifted her face out of soaring pleasure, to look at the ceiling as she began to rise and fall, to feel his hands grip her hips, to slide up and still the jerking sway of her breasts. She felt her juices leak out of her pussy and heard the soft squelch of flesh meeting flesh. Soon she was moving back and forth, and then in little circles as Bram lay perfectly still and allowing her to please them in her ways.
‘Go on…go on…get used to being with me!’ he called out, rising from the bed to embrace her, to bury his face between her breasts as she kept on bucking and tugging on him. The moment was important for each of them.
‘Together, what has age got to do with this!’ she exulted, her breaths then hitching in her throat as she succumbed to her orgasm. ‘You…you feel so big inside me!’
He coaxed her to move and lie under him, her groans of dismay at the interruption of the frenetic rut that they pursued. He grabbed her ankles and put each one over his shoulders and thrust back in, was soon pounding in and out, seeming to reach an end point in her body with each hard and sinuous stroke. Her tits jerked; his mouth clamped upon them; she tore her mouth away from his kisses.
Their breaths became one, her fingers clawed and dug into him as she kept on slamming deep inside her, his balls slapping against her with every powerful thrust.
‘Bram!’ she yelled. he bottomed out. She had never felt so stretched and full, her body started to shake from the feeling. He had let her adjust to his girth for a few moments, but now he grabbed her legs and rested them around his waist. Bearing his weight on outstretched arms and she gripping them, he began to slowly work in and out of her body in a rising rhythm, groaning in response to her pussy’s muscles clamping and tugging on his cock, the speed and movements of his body unrelenting. ‘I…I can’t hold on!’
Their gasps filled the room and the bed creaked to a noisy crescendo. ‘Yes, I can’t hold on either!’
He slammed into her, harder and faster, and lingered on a deep stroke before he burst. Their shared gasps of fulfillment filled the small room as they succumbed, gasped in pleasure and pain as bolts of his hot cum were expelled into her in searing rushes, her pussy’s walls closing hard around him and prolonging the waves of pleasure.
She lost control as something wild and primitive took hold. She bucked her hips to meet his flagging movements; clamped and tugged on his probing prick as she drained him. She bit into his shoulder and her nails raked his back before they dug into his driving hips, rushes of pleasure and pain continuing to course through their bodies.
‘Jeez, woman…you could have warned me!’ he called out as the last of his cum shot out of his aching cock, and her pussy’s muscles sought to drain from him. ‘You lovely woman…what a time you’ve brought to me…to us.’
He caressed her cheeks with his rough hands, bent to kiss her parted lips, and shared in their halting breaths. Her hands continued to caress his enervated skin.
‘You darling!’ She knew it too and clung to him, pressed her lips to his shoulder, and languished in their fevered embrace, unsure of how much had been expelled into her, but it had to have been a large load, for she felt its sticky warmth on her skin as his lust fell away and his penis softened. He sought to ease away. ‘No, don’t, stay in me!’
Her call came too late, her complaint soon answered by the probing caress of his fingers where he had been, their movements stretching and caressing enervated skin. They snorted through their kisses as he finger-fucked her. Bram did so fiercely, expertly, but she felt no pain just an incredible rush of renewed pleasure. She wantonly abandoned herself to his ways, his hand spread over her mound and his fingers claiming her clit. She was in heaven, lost in a space that had no end.
‘Come for me again,’ he coaxed with kisses and caresses, seeming to admire her passionate responses; his words were those of a lover admiring her.
‘I’ve nothing left to stop it happening!’ she screeched as the dam burst once more and she gushed over his fingers, clawed at his body as she was overwhelmed by wanton ways with him.
Finally, Bram held her in his embrace, lay back on the rumpled covers of the bed and she lay on him, every inch of her body in contact with the languorous sweeps of his hands on her back and hips provoking her to press down against him, his penis brushing her belly. Their skins were clammy from their exertions, each movement like a slicked caress, every nerve in their skins jangling.
‘I…I didn’t think I could do that…or hold so much cum,’ she smiled weakly as he stared down at her. ‘The artist I’ve seen in the street has now become my lover. Where are we to go with this?’
She lay down on him, pressed her cheek to the clammy skin of his chest, and breathed in the pungent aroma of their sex. Her body was spent but she felt wonderful, replete, and sublimely satisfied.
Could there be a life without him after this, she wondered, before they drifted into sleep, the soft breeze to be heard beyond the open window. The thunderstorm had passed.
The turmoil of a different kind might yet be lived out and with him.
♥
She was a delight to the eye, the navy-blue dress with its white polka dots flattering her figure, Rosanna’s tanned skin a subtle counterpoint to the day’s choice of bangled jewelry, the bracelets, and single-strand necklace she had chosen to wear, and as an accompaniment to thin, jeweled, pendant earrings.
‘Quite the beautiful lady,’ he smiled appreciatively. ‘I’m in my work clothes so I hope you understand that I didn’t dress for your visit?’
‘Do you still dare to take me on…to be with me whenever we can and we go out?’
‘Sure, but we’ll have to see…just as we have been doing these last few weeks.’ Bram drew her to his side and she clutched his hand and kept it at her waist. ‘It’s finished, the float glass image that I’ve made of you.’
‘It took longer than you said it would take…’ she observed as Bram left her side and went to a sturdy trestle table upon which he had spread out a tattered blanket. It hid the piece that he had made from view.
‘We had our moments, our distractions didn’t we?’ he smiled. It’s a wonder that I’ve got anything done but I had my reasons, just as you had them…I think?’
They had been together so much, done things together but away from the village, strolls on the beaches nearby, and the motorcycle and sidecar a convenient way to bring the raw materials that he needed back to his studio.
‘Two pairs of eyes see so much more,’ he had said on one occasion, the product of his endeavors already sold. Yes, they spent time together during the hours of the working day. The nights were spent making love, any talk of their age differences consigned to the past. The arrangement remained, as before; if either of them met someone closer to their age then their affair might be brought to an end. But why should they be looking when they had found so much to keep them together?
They were honest with each other on that.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked, his large hand holding the fold of the blanket as Bram gazed her way. ‘I managed to find small pieces of glass for the eyes, others for the color of your hair. The piece is of the woman I see and have wanted to be with. I’ve been honest and fair in everything…that’s what I hope.’
Rosanna fell in on herself as the cloth was drawn away and she gazed at the silhouette of a beautiful woman, younger, but with some of the soft creases in her skin that age had brought to it. The image had its vitality, a testimony to his craft.
Rosanna reached out to him with a trembling hand. ‘It’s been made by a man…’
‘By a man who loves you. I no longer have any doubts about that.’
‘And neither do I about you,’ she answered, her voice breaking. ‘I don’t need to think of the future because the present will take me there.’
Rosanna kissed him because there was nothing left to say.
♥
