"Shall we go for a picnic?β you ask me.
"Sure. Where?" I ask, not really caring, just to be anywhere with you is a treat.
"How about this place I know by the lake? I'm already to go, my backpack's in the truck."
"OK", I reply, gathering up my keys and sunglasses. It's a beautiful day outside with temperatures in the low 80's and not a cloud in the sky. I note the aforementioned backpack lying in the back of the cab, though I do not see a blanket for sitting on. My shirt is hanging loosely about me, mostly buttoned, and my shorts are perfect for the weather. You're clothing is similarly apt, though your shirt seems a bit loose on you.
"All right, how do we get there?" I ask. "Go up to the lake, take the first right and follow it around for perhaps five minutes. There's a little parking spot that leads to a secluded area."
"OK," I figure that's good enough, particularly since you snuggle close to me once we're on the road to the lake. I glance down and notice you are not wearing much of a bra, and much of your lovely cleavage is viewable.
"Here's the turn," you tell me after a bit. 'Just follow the road for a few more minutes and we'll be there."
"Is this it?," I wonder, noting a small, shaded area off to the right.
"Not quite, just there on the left side," you point out. I can just make out the spot and wonder how you ever found it. This of course is not relevant, as I'm more concerned with turning into the narrow pathway. It is big enough, barely for the vehicle. "Just ahead it widens out in a nice grassy area overlooking the lake. Plenty of room to turn around."
"OK," I reply as the glen widens before me. "Let me get turned around, then we'll eat."
"Let's not eat, just yet. How about we go for a little stroll, first?" you ask as I shut the engine off. "I'm not really hungry, anyway."
"Sure, I'd like that." I get out of the truck, putting my keys in the backpack, then putting it over my shoulder
"Come on," you urge. I hurry and catch up to you, grabbing you around the waist and turning you to face me. I hold you for a short moment, then kiss you lightly on the mouth, the feel of you against me wonderfully refreshing after the time on the road.
" All right," I say as I release you, "let's walk." I shift the backpack a bit, trying to find the least uncomfortable position. It doesn't seem very heavy, just bulky and I realize the blanket is in it. "Which way?"
"Through there," you motion ahead, then hold my hand as we walk together through a forested patch. I can see glimpses of the lake through the trees, but nothing else. We continue down the path for a while, speaking of nothing in particular, happy to be in each other's company.
The path opens onto a grassy plateau overlooking the water, a small clearing really, with a marvelous view of the lake. "Here we are," you say.
"It's beautiful," I breathe. I can see miles of shoreline and a great expanse of sapphire blue water. I let go of your hand and walk toward the water, stopping a few feet short of a drop. Glancing down I can see a gentle slope leading to the water. There did not appear to be footprints along the shore line, though this seemed a pristine fishing spot. Secluded from foot traffic and near deep water, just reachable with a good cast. I almost wish I had though to bring my gear.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I hadn't heard you approach. "So quiet and peaceful. Nobody for miles around."
"Really," I wonder. "Where's our blanket? If we're going to picnic, we need one."
You give me a smile that lights up your face, "Don't be silly, it's in the bag. Along with a couple of glasses, so be careful getting them out."
"OK," I lower the bag gently to the ground and unzip[ it. I remove a large folded blanket and set it on the ground.
"Come here," you tell me, "help me with this." You are slowly, and carefully unfolding the blanket and I soon see why. Two champagne flutes and a pony bottle are carefully wrapped within its protective folds. The champagne has been chilled, the condensation on the bottle stands out clearly.
"Open this," you say, handing me the bottle. I get it open with minimal effort, the cork already having been loosened. My success is announced with a gentle pop, and I hear you giggle. Placing the glasses near the mouth of the bottle, I fill them. Then take them from you as you finish spreading the blanket.
We sit together a moment in quiet appreciation of the surroundings. " A toast?" I ask.
"Only to us," you reply.