Esme's marble figure lay comfortably against the bench at the bottom of the garden. Her deep eyes were scattering across the pages of the leather bound book she held in her slender hands. A slight breeze fluttered her sundress and an abundance of golden rays took comfort in swamping her caramel hair and reflecting back with a glisten. The thin straps of her dress held the fabric which draped across her curved figure and tickled her stoney shins in the wind. A figure approached her from behind, strolling leisurely down the garden path.
It was Carlisle wearing a blue crisp shirt unbuttoned so as to reveal a few wisps of chest hair which flickered as he picked up pace. He placed his hand onto Esme's shoulder. His fingers spread and clasped tightly, her shoulder almost completely aborbed by his grip. She placed her tiny fingertips onto his and slowly closed the book before turning her neck to acknowledge his presence. A lock of hair came loose from behind her ear and fell in front of her face, he brushed it back with his spare hand; slowly stroking her ear and moving down to her collarbone.
Esme took the hand which rested on her shoulder into hers and guided him around the bench; he abided and took a seat next to her. He brushed the hair away from her shoulder and rolled his fingertips across the bare skin; pulling a strap down to her forearm.
Gently, he kissed around her collar and she leant her head back letting her hair hand freely and flutter gently in the breeze over the back of the wooden bench. He pulled the other strap down to her elbow; planting kisses all across her bare chest. She entwined his fingers in his hair as it rippled with the rhythm of the wind. His kisses moved down and her bare breasts and midrift were now exposed. Leaning back, she stared into the grey abyss; her eyes trying to consume the cotton wool skies and her lungs filling with the dense winter air.
Esme awakened from the momentary coma and began to tackle the buttons on his shirt; carefully she freed each one and pulled the collar over his sculpted shoulders. With apt strength she released his lips from her lower stomach and pushed him back in the seat before carefully mounting him, kneeling on the hard oak bench. She could feel his manhood pressing against her inner thighs as she began to place kisses down his neck and chest.
Carlisle took her face in his huge hands, pulled her up to face him – their eyes fixed. His fingers sprawled across her tiny features; he pulled her to him and kissed her passionately on the lips. His tongue exploring hers and changing positions constantly in order to get deeper than before; eventually they broke free for and unnecessary breath. She bit her lip as the rest of her dress slid from her bare legs and landing on the grass, flickering gently in the wind as if it were alive.
Carlisle raised an eyebrow at the absence of underwear; she pretended not to notice and began loosening his belt. She felt the cold breeze on her bare body; he clasped his huge mits around her tiny waist and curved hips. She finally dragged his pants down his thighs and they joined her dress on the ground.
Esme playfully pulled the waistband of his briefs and she began eyeing up their prisoner. His right hand slid down her buttocks and began gently exploring between her thighs. She let out a quiet moan; he soaked up her enjoyment. She finally released his crisp white boxers which hugged his fuzzy thighs and cupped his cock. Before long they were both completely naked on an oak bench at the bottom of the garden, her graceful body mounted upon his statuesque physique; his left palm resting on her lower back and the other gently exploring her womanhood.
Her opening was milimetres away from his cock, she rubbed hands hands up and down his chest, stroking the hairs and wrapping her other hand firmly around his neck. She finally gave in to his incessant moans and slowly allowed him to enter her. Esme wrapped both arms around his neck tightly, clenching her muscles and releasing slowly as they fell into a rhythm. His growling breaths were rhythmic and exciting for Esme as she held tightly onto a tuft of his hair.
Carlisle's fingertips tensed and stretched to their maximum length around her buttocks, pushing him into her deeper and deeper. Peaking first, Esme flung her head back carelessly and her hair blew aggressivly in the wind which seems to have picked up pace since their love-making began. As he reached climax, he clamped onto her swan-like figure as she rode him on this final lap.
He let a low grumble escape from the depths of his chest and through his lips, she shrieked with delight and shook her hair like a wild animal as she lept from him and nestled under his stone arm. Carlise's hand gently entwined itself in her curls and she nuzzled under his arm, closing her eyes and taking in a lungful of winter air. All thoughts escaped Esme's mind as she lay naked with her soul mate on the oak bench at the bottom of the garden on a cold Forks Sunday afternoon.