Amongst The Grassy Blades
They lay, quite flat and listless. The grass was damp and for some time they nestled on the grassy bed. Too tired even for post-coital murmurings, too wrung out to suggest a change of scenery or a cup of coffee at a nearby café – no, that was out of the question.
The sun was still sleeping.
Julie, we’ll call her that for the sake of anonymity, was glad for a bit of a break just quietly. Passion was wonderful; sustained passion even more wonderful but at the end, the exhaustion was too much, too draining, too, too … well, would flattening be the right word? It would do as she pondered on her immediate choices. If she had known she would be like this, might she not have thought twice? But no, passion doesn’t allow twice thinking and as her best interests flew out of her mind, a new resident flew in, settled and just wouldn’t leave.
Alfie, we’ll call him that for the sake of anonymity, had been a sharp operator and at first couldn’t attract the attentions of Julie. She was distant, aloof and he couldn’t know or even hazard a guess as to whether she might be a virgin (that was a laugh surely, these days) or just a stuck up I’m a princess and don’t even think you are worth a look type. Still, it was a challenge not to be missed, Alfie thought, and he pursued her as only a dedicated pursuer could; with stealth bordering on stalk; with slyness bordering on deceit. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He dreamed of her every night and often awoke in a milky puddle which hadn’t happened since adolescence. He knew he had to pounce and without delay.
On reflection, Julie and Alfie were probably destined to further their sexual education. Alfie’s first encounter with the opposite sex had been, to put it one way, a wank. To put it another, it had been ungainly, uncomfortable, unattractive and all the other words beginning with U.
This up and coming encounter, (Alfie didn’t think for a moment there would not be one) would be the absolute ultimate sexual experience. He would use all the techniques he had learned, mainly from Playboy magazine it must be said, and send her to the moon and back with love and desire.
On the other hand, Julie secretly yearned for the hands of Alfie to run their gamut over her entire body, sending her to the moon and back with love and desire. But to accept his attentions too readily would, she felt, compromise her princess upbringing; no, she would have to delicately and with restraint take her time, all the while simmering on the brink of sexual ecstasy. By the time a date had been arranged, late on Boxing Day 2014, Julie was well and truly on the boil.
Alfie had asked her to a party thrown by one of his friends. It would be a grand bash with lots of booze (free) and a couple of bands he really liked. Like a grasshopper on heat, he couldn’t keep still during the hours leading up to meeting Julie at a pre-arranged place just outside the Council chambers beneath an iconic gum tree.
At precisely 8pm Alfie arrived at the tree. He was still there, alone, at 8.30.
Julie fidgeted, fully dressed in party clothes befitting a Boxing Day party. She waited for her own inbuilt signal to leave the house. Too soon: she would be seen as over anxious. It would show in her flushed cheeks. Too late: he might get fed up and leave.
But Alfie didn’t leave; Alfie waited and at precisely 9pm a blonde froth of smiles and loveliness appeared at the top of the little council grassy rise and stood there, shining in a halo of promises and … before he could think of any more adjectives to describe Julie, she was at his side apologising for her tardiness with a smile as sweet as the marinated strawberries he had eaten for breakfast.
Shyness accompanied the couple to the party and noise engulfed their tender yearnings as The Rockin’ Rivets popped out their first number for the night. Talk was impossible but the magnetic heat between Alfie and Julie played the sweetest music and before the bracket finished, they had slipped away unnoticed.
Hands clasped, they hurried towards a sheltered spot alongside the creek where their first kiss almost missed its target in their anxiety for proximity. The water in the creek tinkled and tumbled and very soon, Julie and Alfie had dropped onto the waiting grass for a little tumbling of their own. Restraint, so diligently practiced by Julie and wanking, so diligently practiced by Alfie, exploded into the skies to be replaced by sensational cataclysmic fondlings that led to, well, you know very well so I am not going into details. They are private and as such belong to Alfie and Julie.
The fingers of dawn’s gentle light crept towards the grassy hot bed by the creek only to find that the lovers had already fled.
Julie’s lacy, pink knickers lay decoratively and still enticingly amongst the grassy blades and Alfie’s boxer shorts colorfully tartan, lay within easy reach.
Bio: Written from an image seen while walking beside a creek, two garments that told a story too good to avoid!