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She was awakened by a gentle slap of thin lunar air as the sheets were softly moved aside. The watery half-light gently seeped through her nightgown, a drifting mist that made her curving limbs glimmer. As she floated towards the surface of her somnolent depths, she smiled, not quite blushing at her nakedness, but keenly aware that her bare skin under the nightgown was regarded with a keen, yet sleepy eye.

He stretched, breathing deeply, gathering together what tiny warmth he had been conserving and willing it into his hands. His fingers gently, lightly, slowly, trailed across the bed sheets, carefully brushing aside the silky fabric of the waist-deep neckline. Firmly but softly, he traced the lines of her body. From her long tresses with their rich hues of summers past, curled and waved from the passage of the night, following the strong of her jaw, down her elegant neck, over the round of her shoulder and upper arm, diverting down with that gathering strength to cup her heavy breast and lightly tweak her large and beautiful nipple. His head sleepily moved towards it, a tiny mountain of fleshy perfection, cold and standing proud in the early light – at least one part of her was fully awake.

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