The Greeting

The sun was barely making its presence known that particular afternoon. The clouds had the upper-hand, dark and voluminous, full of an obvious promise to drop buckets of hard rain on the earth, and on the little area of ground I had chosen to occupy in particular. 

There was nothing that could persuade me to vacate my chosen spot, however, as it afforded me a certain enviable vantage point. From where I was standing I had an unhindered view of one of the most remarkably beautiful women I had ever seen.

She did not possess a remarkable stature, to be sure - she was neither tall nor petite. She was of average height, but not of average weight, and definitely not of average weight distribution.

She was plump, curvy if you will, but in what I can only describe as a muscular way. Her hips were ample, her bust quite full, yet even though she possessed a fulsomeness of flesh, she moved with a decisive elegance.

Her face was round, framed by what is usually described in literature as silvery blonde hair, long and free-flowing. Cheekbones that were tinted with a slight pink that reddened when she flexed her full crimson lips and smiled her 1000 watt smile.

Her soft blue eyes were as much a part of the sexual robustness of her body as her curves were, at once both intent and loose in their gaze.

With an overt sensuousness she walked towards me, her stride slow but assertive. She seemed to laugh when she spoke my name as she neared. She stopped directly in front of me and then leaned in, planting a soft, warm kiss on my lips while running one of her hands over my shoulder and up my neck with all the weight of a single butterfly.

It was like this every time she greeted me. Every single time. Not too difficult to imagine her in a carnal fashion, not when she pressed her substantial yet still somehow lithe and willowy body into mine.

At that very moment I hoped beyond hope it would start to rain like mad, give us reason to run indoors and explore the promise of that sensual kiss.