The gasp that would ensue, would break the kiss and eyes would connect once again. Chocolate brown slightly smug and hazel eyes pleading to bring a successful conclusion to what had begun only allowing a brief interlude for Bette to remove the now obtrusive undergarment.

Settled once again, Bette would resume her gentle exploration. Dipping once again into the incredibly slick heat at the apex of the blonde’s legs. Sliding, gathering, rubbing, circling, flicking gently, repeating the moves and watching eyes close, a mouth open and hearing quickened breaths and gasps escape in short bursts.

So with soft loving words of praise and encouragement, Bette would hasten her pace sensing the imminent climax of her lover by the way her grip would tighten in her hair and the way her nails would dig a little harder in her shoulder. Her lips would lower down once again to capture the offered mouth, her tongue slipping into the willingly parted lips and their kiss would last the duration of the beautiful blonde’s orgasm; Bette swallowing each moan, whimper and exhale, her hand never faltering in her task to draw out every last ripple of pleasure from the frenzied lifting and undulating hips.

Bette shook her head to try and rid herself, very unwillingly, of the vivid images which had taken a hold in rapid succession in her mind. She laughed at how silly it was that she would allow herself to fantasize so intensely about someone she barely knew.

Barely knew at all.

She pushed away from the railing she had been leaning against and decided to head for her car and make her way home.

The images of their entwined bodies though lingered on. Out of breath, forehead against forehead, their gazes intimately connected, heavy eyelids and satiated smiles.

Bette let it go further too, incapable as she seemed to be to carry on with the fantasy. The intimacy they shared spilled into their daily life and Bette imagined one last time, lazy Sundays with the beautiful blonde’s head on her stomach, reading to her from her favourite book, cooking together or spying on the blonde as she danced in the kitchen to a catchy tune on the radio while flipping homemade pancakes wearing nothing but a t-shirt and her underwear and better still travelling together and making Italy their first destination.

Once Bette settled herself behind the wheel of her car, she thought back to how her eyes had met those hazel ones earlier on in that little seaside café.

How for a few minutes she had hoped that their connection had been real; Her hopes quickly shattered though when the tall guy with the three-day designer stubble arrived, slightly overwhelmed and disorganised, a 2-year-old blonde haired boy hanging from his trouser leg and little bundle of pink frill in the trendiest of buggy.

Their reunion with the beautiful blonde had been unequivocal.

They were the perfect little happy family.

So Bette had moved away from her seat. Taking those few moments to herself along the seafront and had allowed herself, in the measure of her vivid daydream, to see perhaps if the world were a perfect place, to see…what could have been.