The water in the pond is clear and fresh and absolutely bloody freezing. It might be a warm day, but it’s still only spring, and the temperatures are skin-puckeringly low.
I cling onto Tom, shivering and laughing, holding onto his shoulders as we both kick our legs to warm up.
‘This,’ I say, grinning up at him, ‘was a lot more romantic in my head.’
‘I know,’ he replies, pulling me in closer so our bodies are crushed against each other’s. ‘And in my defence, I’d like to point out that it’s freezing cold. That never has a flattering effect on manhood.’
I kiss him, long and slow and luscious, wrapping my legs around his waist. There’s an immediate and pretty flattering response in the manhood department. ‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about …’
His hands are wandering across my back, and I’m getting goosebumps for all kinds of reasons now. We kiss again, and finally pull apart when we’re both desperate for air.
I reach up, and stroke his hair. It’s shining with droplets of water, and now he looks more like a seal than a mole.
‘Did you know I’ve been stalking you here?’ I ask, leaning my head back while he kisses the sensitive skin of my neck.
‘I didn’t, no. I’m guessing you must have liked what you saw, as you’re now naked in here with me …’
I am naked. So is he. It’s all very racy. I don’t have a lot of problems with my body – something in the way my mother raised us taught us to see ourselves as complete, however we looked, which is a lesson I really should thank her for. I’m tall and lean and strong, and even though I don’t have much in the boob department and will never be considered curvy and cute, like Laura for example, I don’t feel unhappy with what I’ve got. My body does its job well – it gets me through its busy days, and lets me stay active, and right now, is allowing me some pretty amazing sensations on the pleasure front.
As for his … well, I’ve seen it before. But up close and personal, it’s even better. Awesome, in fact – pale but perfectly formed, like a Roman statue in an art gallery.
He’s also weirdly okay with all this communal nakidity, to use a made up word – I’d expected him to be more self-conscious, a bit bashful maybe, but in fact he was the first to whip off his clobber and do a running jump into the water. Something I think he regretted two seconds later, but such is life.
Perhaps this was the perfect way to do things – we’ve skipped the awkward fumbling and bra-unhooking and trying to find a way for two tall people to undress in a camper van with any shred of dignity. We didn’t have to hop around on one leg getting pants off, or worry about a slow reveal – we just went for it. The stuff of dreams.
‘I did like what I saw,’ I reply, running my fingers along the muscles of his shoulders, feeling a childish urge to shriek: ‘Mine, all mine!’
‘But the first time I saw you, I thought you might be Edward Cullen, so that didn’t really count. The second time, you were in here with Rick Grimes, and I was hiding in the bushes. It was the day I delivered Baby Groot, and I was all a-blush while I watched you.’
He finishes nuzzling my neck, and moves back to my lips for a few minutes, one hand on my back, keeping me close.
‘Was that the day the rains came? I was actually thinking about you at exactly that moment. The rain started to lash down, and at first I was going to get out – but then I thought, hmm, what would Willow do? She’d tell me to loosen up. She’d tell me to be brave, and live in the moment – so I just laughed and laughed and laughed.’
‘You did. I saw you. And while you thought I’d tell you to be brave, I was lurking in the shrubbery, being a coward.’
‘Doesn’t matter. You’re here now, aren’t you? All good things come to those who wait. Now, not that I’m not finding this every inch the erotic adventure, but I’m freezing my arse off.’
I give the arse in question a squeeze, and say: ‘It still feels all there to me …’
‘Whatever you just did, I couldn’t feel it. My arse extremities have gone numb. Let’s go back to the camper and … well, let’s go back to the camper, and see what happens.’
‘I know what’s going to happen,’ I say, swimming away from him to the bank and clambering out. I strut away from him towards our clothes, and know he’s staring at my extremity as well. I give it a little waggle, just to let him know.
‘What?’ he says, catching me up. I pause, and look at him, wet and glistening and gorgeous. He’s there, and he’s real. He’s not Edward Cullen – he’s even better.
‘I’m going to take you back there, and do terrible things to you.’
‘How terrible?’ he says, pulling on his Levis – he leaves his boxers off, I notice, which will definitely save time later.
‘Terribly terrible. They might even make Baby Groot blush.’
He grabs hold of me before I have a chance to put my top back on, and wraps me up in his arms, crushing my breasts up against his chest.
‘That,’ he says, smoothing damp hair away from my face, ‘sounds terribly wonderful.’