The day had started cool and bright but it had given way to a dull, overcast afternoon and now fat drops of rain were splashing onto the grimy windscreen of the grimy van as it pulled into the broadcast compound. An unhelpful, untimely sensor triggered the van's wipers to smear the half-damp filth into an opaque film that caused the now blind driver to halt several yards short of his intended space.
David blinked, then pulled the lever to squirt the screen with fluid. His field of vision cleared and there stood Bella, standing at the open tailboard of her broadcast truck. She had her back to him, on tip-toes in her scuffed black DMs, reaching up into the dark, cave-like chaos of cables that lay before her; and as she did her oversized black raincoat lifted to reveal her small, firm bottom encased in tight black jeans.
The rain fell harder, the wipers wiped faster and David worked to bring his heartbeat back under control. He'd known she was going to be here but he hadn't been prepared for how he would react. Usually working on opposite sides of the country, they might only run into each other three or four times a year.
"Will she still feel the same?" He wondered to himself. Eventually, he unfolded himself from the driver's seat and approached, ducking under the broad flap that sheltered the tailboard. Still straining upwards she looked back over her shoulder, smiled and said, "You're casting a shadow you big lummox, do you have to stand right there?"
"I do if you're ever going to re-patch that cable, here I'll do it for you, where is it going? No? Ok, no worries, you just struggle then."
He watched her struggle. He swallowed painfully, his mouth suddenly dry. Bella glanced back at him again and this time she saw the hunger in his eyes. She'd seen that look before. She quickly turned away, fumbling with the cable above her head, and it was her turn to control her suddenly racing heart. She felt the loom of his tall frame, his broad shoulders coming closer behind her. He reached up casually, taking the cable from her now unsteady hand, moving it to the next input, inserting and twisting to lock. The small test monitor flickered from 'Sky-No Signal' to 'Channel 37'.
"There you go," he said. "Now the vision department can watch the shopping channel instead of racking cameras."
"Sounds like a better use of our time."
"I won't dispute that haha."
David smiled down at her, his wet weather gear dripping onto her boots. Bella raised an eyebrow and asked, "So what did you really come back here for? It can't have been to get QVC working."
"Well not just that obviously," he laughed again, a deep, infectious laugh that Bella felt in her chest. He lowered his voice slightly and continued: "I've been out setting up the remote cameras since I got here but I've run into trouble setting up the control data. Maybe you could come and take a look?"
She hesitated, but only for a moment. "John!" She bawled out the name of the elderly freelance vision engineer who was her second in command. After a moment his grey head appeared through the door at the top of the steps. "John! You're holding down the fort, I'm headed out to the remote positions. Bloody camera ops can't get the data working."
David was already climbing back into the van but he saw John's head shake in disapproval as Bella threw herself into the passenger seat. The engine roared into life, they swept out of the broadcast compound and then into the damp green woodland that made up the endurance course.
They were here to televise endurance racing: rich people racing small horses over long distances. The audience for such a sport is remarkably small, but since that audience is also remarkably wealthy it is no problem for them to pay a broadcast team to stand out in the rain and bring them every moment live.
The track got rougher as they got further from the compound and eventually David gave up trying to steer around the potholes, full from the overnight rain, and just splashed straight through them. After dropping the van into third gear he dropped his hand onto Bella's knee, sliding his palm up the inside of her leg, feeling the rough, skin-tight black denim, following the seam up and up, pushing past the scant resistance offered by her damp downy jacket, stopping only when his hand was buried deep in the welcoming warmth at the top of her legs.
"We won't have long David, John's not stupid, and he's been looking out for me since he became my number two, he's been very protective."
"We won't need long." He replied, "Not too long anyway. It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you," she said breathlessly.
He gripped her thigh and ground the side of his hand hard into the fabric enclosing her dampening sex. Bella's hand went up to the back of his head, her fingers tangled in his dark brown hair. He chanced a quick look sideways and saw that with her other hand she had pulled the zip of her jacket down to her middle. He saw a hard nipple pushing proudly through the black cotton of her tank-top, he saw the slight swell of the breast underneath, he saw her fingers close around the tip of engorged flesh. Bella squeezed down, gasping with need, and as she did so her soft hand in his hair became a fist, tugging sharply at his scalp.
They moaned together, before David's focus was dragged back to the gravel track in order to navigate a few particularly tight bends. Back on the straight, and hurtling along at reckless speed, he turned his attention back to Bella. He released his grip on her thigh and thrust his hand into the warmth beneath her half open jacket. Rough, desperate, grasping blindly, he felt her ribs and moved upward, his searching hand finding the small breast with its hard point and gratefully appreciating it, fingers brushing, cupping, rolling.
Bella released her grip on his hair, her fingers falling to his lap to search out the hardness she knew she would find there. David's cock was straining through the layers of underwear, trousers, waterproofs, a valiant effort that ached to be rewarded. When she slid her hand underneath his waistband and grasped his shaft David very nearly lost control of the vehicle, pulling his hand reluctantly from her breast to wrestle with the wheel.
With the van once again safely crunching on the gravel of the lane he looked down at her, his head raised, eyes wide, nostrils flared. Bella saw an animalistic need in his gaze, a need so great, so barely controlled that it might have frightened her, if it didn't make her so turned on. She stroked him slowly, up then down, up then down.
The camera scaffold emerged quite suddenly out of the trees and he slammed the brakes, pulling off the road and parking beside and a little behind the platform. "Sheltered enough," thought David as he hauled on the handbrake and killed the engine. He took hold of the wrist that had snaked under his waistband and pulled Bella firmly from the middle seat, across the driver's seat and out into the falling rain.
He pushed her back against the cold grey panel of the side door and she looked up at him, her small bosom rising and falling quickly, her breath short and sharp. David considered her for a moment, her slight frame in her oversized jacket, open to her waist; her dark eyes wide, quivering with barely contained energy. She reached up and pulled him down into a kiss, gentle, even tender at first, but with a growing intensity that they both felt deep in their guts.
David's hands found the zip of her jacket and opened it wide, exploring the familiar contours of her body, rubbing, squeezing, appreciating what they found. Bella's hands were up in David's hair and she pulled him away from her lips long enough to say, "No more waiting, I need this, I need you."
David growled, crushed her close to his body, reached for the handle of the side door and slid it open. Bella scrambled backwards onto the bench seats with David in close pursuit. They kissed again, mouths and cheeks clashing clumsily. Their movements were frantic now, physical need overwhelming rational thought. David struggled to push the jacket off of Bella's shoulders while she fumbled with his belt beneath his waterproof trousers. They were working against each other: they were getting nowhere.
