Rough. Raw. Pure.
Breathing in through her nose, she smells the thick, hot air mix with musky cologne. Clothes cling to the skin as the air does not move and the room is equipped with only one, small, fan.
Gripping. Holding. Feeling.
The window behind her is open up to her shoulders, the hot air breezes inside and stirs around the room.
Her eyes glance across the room. Standing in tan shorts, the beads of sweat glistening on his chest, arms, collar bone and brow. His masculine and strong hands grip a wet towel, gliding it across his forehead to calm the heat.
Against the wall.
Cotton hits the floor.
A button falls and rolls across the wood, catching sunlight and bouncing it back upon the flesh.
The heat beats around her and swallows her in its tight grip. He pulls her waist into his and her fingers grip at the wall behind her.
From the outside looking in, one could only see the golden flesh of an arm, a thigh, the bare ribcage and navel.
Her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast.
Heat. Desire.
Her eyes meet his. Lips part and the air escapes their lungs. They grip. They plea for more air. Moving with the heat and finding themselves on the wood floor, the sunshine making stripes upon their bodies.
Dazed. Weak. Spent.
She stares at him with his eyes closed and then focuses her gaze outside the window. The dirt road from two stories high is sparse with people. She grabs the wet towel and cools her skin.
The button lays casually on the floor. The clothing is scattered.
She catches his eye and he only smiles and gazes...
Fingers touch and move, slowly over curves and tan skin. The heat intensifies once more and she falls to the floor overwhelmed with exhaustion, pleasure, satisfaction...