“Well that was fun.” said Mary, a warm glow spreading through her body.
“If a little unexpected, talk about spur of the moment.” remarked John.
“You know being in the woods always made me randy.”
“Long time since we did that though.” John looked admiringly at her body. “You still have beautiful shoulders.” he kissed her on them reinforcing his words.
“Shame about the rest of me.” she laughed.
“Looks alright to me.” John reassured her.
“Stop flattering me, everything’s heading south.”
“I can’t really say anything can I? Anyway, you’re not bad for an old bird!”
“Cheeky bugger, we’d better get dressed, Sarah’s bringing the grandkids round in an hour.”
John looked around the copse illuminated by shafts of sunlight through the trees. “The bluebells are lasting well this year. Do you remember we used to bring the kids here when they were young?”
Mary took a twig from her hair. “Mmm, we used to tell them this was a fairy grove and the root holes under the trees were the doors to their houses.” she turned her back. “Do me up.”
John kissed her shoulders once more before fastening her dress. “When you think what we used to get up to here before they came along, we probably frightened them away.”
Mary put her shoes back on while her husband folded the blanket. “This a such a magical place, I’d like to think they were real.”
“Yeah, do you still believe rabbits wear smoking jackets and sit in armchairs reading newspapers in their burrows.” he joked.
“It doesn’t hurt to have an imagination!” she retorted in pretended indignation.
“Come on Tinkerbell let’s get back to the car.” he picked up the picnic basket smiling.
The middle-aged couple walked away hand-in-hand unaware of the myriad of tiny eyes watching curiously from the holes under the tree roots.