With Eve in the park

Eve and I slip into the shade beneath an old plane tree. The heat clings to her skin, turning her long blonde hair into strands of honey. We share a single cone, tongues meeting where the ice cream melts fastest, lips tasting sweet and cool. A rented rowboat waits by the dock, but the ducks at the water’s edge keep us busy—crusts scattered from her fingers, dark eyes flashing as she laughs when they snatch and splash. She stretches on the grass, skirt riding high, and when I pull her close the sunlight leaves half her face in shadow and the other half flushed pink. Her hand slides down the front of my shorts, confident, slow. My mouth finds the warm hollow beneath her ear. With the ducks still calling, she straddles my lap and takes me inside her in one smooth drop of hips. She rides without hurry, breasts brushing my chest, the boat and lake forgotten behind us. Her brunette friend’s camera records the sun on her spine, the way her thighs tighten when she comes, the quiet groan she bites against my throat.