He turned again. Simon was propelling Margaret out of the front door. Green grinned. Having only dropped into this party searching for a faint whisper of scandal, it looked as if he had hit the jackpot tonight. As far as he had been aware Margaret had returned to Yorkshire a few days ago so he had been surprised to see her, in the company of Simon Parfitt, and wandering off together on a hot summer night, with a rug and a bottle of champagne. Green was intensely intrigued and wasn’t going to let them out of his sight. At a discreet distance he followed the couple outside and watched as they made their way down the street towards the park, Simon with his free arm draped loosely around Margaret’s shoulders. Green’s camera was in his car. He collected it.
* * *
During the day the park was teeming with life but at this hour of the night it was virtually deserted, apart from the odd courting couple intent on their own business. Simon guided Margaret towards the lake, bordered by large sycamore trees and deep shrubbery. It was an incredibly warm night but in the dim moonlight dark clouds were swirling in the sky and a thunderstorm was imminent. However, nothing was going to deter them. Margaret had reached the point of no return and to hell with the consequences and Simon knew if he played this very carefully now he could have everything he wanted.
He threw the rug on the grass beneath the vast canopy of one of the splendid sycamore trees and looked at her. She smiled. He wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled down the zip on the back of her dress and off her shoulders, running his hands over her bare breasts as the garment fell gently to the ground. It was all she wore. He caressed her neck with his mouth and nibbled her earlobe. His hands slid over her slim hips.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
Margaret sighed. Standing naked in a public park in the middle of the night while a virile young man made love to her was so delicious … so wicked … so crazily wonderful. For a fleeting moment, Margaret thought of Charles and what he would say if he could see her now. She laughed and grappled with the belt of Simon’s jeans. It was time they came off too. She wanted him so badly.
Devoid of all clothing they stood, moulded together in the darkness, mouths and hands eagerly exploring each other. Margaret had never known such ecstasy, such desire. She wanted it to last forever.
The heat was intense and from the heavens came an ominous rumble. The denseness of the leaves above them provided reasonable cover from the soft rain and they were so engrossed with each other they took no notice of the lightning, followed by crashing thunder. The flashing camera from its vantage point a few feet away also went unnoticed.
Simon pulled Margaret down onto the rug, softly kissing every inch of her face, her earlobes, arms, wrists, fingers. Then he moved back up to linger for an eternity on her breasts. Her waist was the next spot to be treated to such tender pampering; then her hips, legs, ankles and finally, her long toes with scarlet varnished nails. Gently she was turned over and he continued his wanderings, beginning with the soles of her feet and making slow progress up to her body to her neck.
Margaret could have died. It was heavenly; sublime. No-one had cherished her like this. Cherish. What a lovely word she thought dreamily as Simon turned her again and the odd drops of warm rain fell on her face.
She reached out to pull him close, intending to do the same for him but with one slight movement he was on top of her, cupping her head in his hands. His tongue met hers greedily and then, suddenly, he was inside her. They moved together, both wanting this coupling to last, to be a moment to remember. It was Margaret who cried out first when the tiny ripples of orgasm turned into a wild crescendo as Simon reached the pinnacle of his passion at the same time. Exhausted and drained they curled into each other’s arms.
“My, my, Your Grace. That was pretty awesome.”
Margaret laughed. “Well, as I didn’t have time to shop, consider this your birthday present.”
As the thunderstorm moved further away, the first signs of dawn became apparent with the sky turning from dark grey to a reddish glow and the birds woke up and began their early morning ritual with a cacophony of musical trilling. Ducks and swans dozed on the banks beside the lake and then, to her horror, Margaret saw a couple of people out walking their spaniels. The dogs were off lead and had decided it was great sport to chase the sleepy birds into the water, creating a good deal of noise and attention from others who were entering the park.
“I think we had better get you indoors,” Simon said, following her gaze. “This is a becoming a bit too public.”
Exhausted, hung over from the Krug and damp from the rain, they left the park and returned to the flat. All was quiet now. The music had been turned off and everyone had left apart from one couple who were entwined in each other’s arms, sleeping soundly on the sofa. Simon led Margaret through to his bedroom where they again abandoned their clothes and took turns in towelling each other dry. Margaret was shaking uncontrollably but wasn’t sure if it was because of the excitement or because she was so cold. They fell into bed, curled up together and slept till noon.
Having woken refreshed, warm and cosy, they made love
