We talk about the UK, our favourite places, partners, wanting to get away; all the usual stuff by which time we have finished our meal. You ask me to...stay, but I say that I have to get back to the bridge, to which you reply, 'we haven't got much time then.' I move over to your deckchair and sit beside you. I find the warmth of your body and poise of your breasts so arousing. We kiss passionately, and like lovers we begin to caress each other; that wonderful intoxication of exploring a new. “Oh dear its lovely” Jean gushed. Perhaps the wine was getting to her too. The wine was definitely getting to me. I reached over and pulled my pad out of my bag.Naomi held the pad still for a moment, shocked. As she had suspected, I had sketched her as she prepared the food. The strokes played with her profile as she bent slightly over the bench chopping onion. The sketch captured so much in so few faint lines, enhanced by what was left out rather than what was put in. The hands were drawn in. More

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