It was just south of the French border, a bed and breakfast, a balmy Spanish summer. My girlfriend and I arrived mid-afternoon and I saw her leaving from down the street. Just a glance, a recognition, and that was all. The heat getting to me, perhaps.
The place had six rooms, and we were at the top. The walls were wood and the tin roof groaned and clicked under the slow-to-fall sun. We got in late that first night. All the other rooms were quiet when we passed them going up the steep, winding staircase. We passed the night tossing and turning, distracted by the hum of the aircon units on the roof, the occasional traffic down below, and the rats who'd made a home in the roof.
I didn't bother watching the clock, just waited as the sun inched its way over the neighbouring rooftops, until the smell of coffee told me it was time to be up. I showered to help me awake and when I got out my girlfriend was dressed and ready. I knew the bags beneath my eyes matched hers.
We weren't the first to breakfast. The long, heavy wooden table had four seats down its length on either side, and one at each end. An elderly couple occupied one side, and the woman I'd glanced the day before sat alone opposite. We sat ourselves next to the older couple and grumbled morning greetings, still trying to shake off the sleepless night.
Pleasantries were exchanged, and travelogues shared. Coffee was drunk. The elderly couple were the first to finish and be about their busily planned day. The woman remained, poured herself a fresh cup of tea.
She was Italian, travelling alone.
"How long have you been travelling?" I asked.
"A little more than three months," she said.
Her hair, dark and heavy, was cut short and fell across her forehead in an attractive line. Nose and cheeks were round, and her lips were full and red. And her eyes were deep brown—their intelligence notable when she kept them still. From the corner of my eye I took in the cleavage revealed by her low-cut t-shirt.
"A long time to be away from home," I said.
She nodded, thinking. "Sometimes it gets lonely. And you?"
My girlfriend cut in. "About the same."
The woman smiled, sipped from her tea. We fell to silence mostly through exhaustion on my part. As I bit into the fresh bread I glanced up, hoping perhaps to look at the woman's face, and I found her looking at me. She smiled, a friendly smile, and began reading the news on her phone.
She was probably ten years older than me, but I was definitely attracted. It wasn't a motherly sense, but there was a warmth about her—something that made me want to wrap up in her.
I decided to settle in, wait until she left. My tired mind was flitting through fantasies at breakneck speed. I wanted to watch her walk away.
I finished my breakfast, drained my coffee, and reached for some fruit. A ripe peach. As soon as I bit into it, the juice flowed down my chin and over my fingers. It turned into a two-handed job. By the time I was finished I had sticky nectar all over the fingers of one hand.
As I licked them clean, I glanced up to see the Italian woman watching my hand. She noticed my attention and quickly looked away, flushing slightly. Through it all, my girlfriend was oblivious, gazing out the window.
I wiped dry my hands and was about to get up when the woman pushed back her chair. "Ciao," she said, and we said goodbye. As she headed for the stairs I was surprised to find her fitter than I'd expected—attractively curved, and clothed to show it. I had a sudden hunger in my gut that no breakfast would fix.
We went back up to our room. I washed my hands then turned to my girlfriend. Her back was to me. I stood behind her and put my arms around her waist, feeling a thrill in my loins as she instinctively nestled back into me.
I kissed her cheeks, holding her tight. She shifted her head around and our lips met. My tongue slipped between her lips as I pressed my face into hers.
After a moment she pulled back.
"Sticky," she said, wiping her chin. She smiled.
I kissed her neck, let my hands run up her sides to her shoulders and squeezed her tightly. One hand curled around and stroked the side of her breast. She turned around in my arms and I pulled her close, kissing her deeply again on the lips.
She hummed and pushed me away, smiling. My cock was hard, and I almost groaned as she released the pressure of it pressed against her stomach. A faint sweat was on her face.
"I think I'm going to take a nap," she said.
Inwardly I cursed, but you can't have it all. "I'll go for a walk," I said. "Before it gets too hot."
Already the room was building heat like a sauna.
