In this story a married woman has sex with a man who's not her husband. If that's not your thing, don't read.
***
My wife and I were on a walking holiday, a long weekend snatched from a busy life. We'd eaten breakfast early intending to make a good distance before lunch. It had been a dreary winter and the warm sunshine put us in high spirits. Around us the countryside was at its best, heavy with spring growth and the promise of summer. We were walking a line of rolling hills which led to a memorial to some forgotten worthy, a tall obelisk at the highest point. In the early morning we had crossed pastures and woods and had come to open land with gorse and scrubby grass with no shelter from the sun. A stony path lay ahead of us to the monument.
"You could imagine trolls and fairies living in these hills," said Cynthia admiringly. "I like this place."
"Plenty of wildlife. I've seen a hare and foxes, buzzards and lapwing. Keep your eyes open and we may see an adder on this heathland."
"A place where anything could happen."
Cynthia loves the sun and looked especially voluptuous in a tight singlet and shorts. She's medium height with a fresh, round face, her dark hair tied back severely in a ponytail. I'd not bothered to shave and had covered myself with a wide bush hat to protect my skin.
We both keep fit but were carrying overnight packs and it was a steep climb. Our plan was to take a breather when we got to the monument and decide where to have lunch. As we approached the high point, Cynthia suddenly announced that she wanted to pee. If she'd bothered to think ahead, she could have managed comfortably in the woods behind us. There were few people about but now there was no obvious cover. I told her to wait for me at the monument while I scouted about for a suitable place, maybe among the gorse.
I was delayed because I spotted a distant view of the sea and spent a while working out what part of the coast I was looking at. I unfolded my map and took a few bearings with my compass. Then I caught sight of a roe deer and stood still to watch until it took fright and raced off. Remembering that Cynthia was in a hurry, I was ready to apologise for being so long when I reached the monument. Instead I found her seated on the stone plinth beside a stranger, a tall elderly man with a floppy hat and a crooked blackthorn walking stick. He grinned at me in a friendly way and glanced at Cynthia before speaking.
"Isn't it a lovely day? I'm Stan. Cynthia and I have been getting to know one another."
"I'm sorry I got delayed," I said a little bewildered. Cynthia wasn't the most sociable of people but it seemed that in the short time I'd taken to get there she and this stranger had made friends. To Cynthia I said, "If you're still in a hurry, I've found a spot." I pointed.
"That's okay." Cynthia was laughing at me. "I've done it. I found somewhere close and Stan kept a look out for me to be sure nobody came by."
I was shocked. She's coy about things like having a pee in the open. And she'd taken this man into her confidence.
"Why don't you sit down and enjoy the view," said Stan. "This is the highest point for forty miles and deserves to be appreciated. Let me offer you something to eat." From his bag he produced a box with home-made pizza cut into segments.
"No thanks."
"I will." Cynthia took a piece and ate with relish. She and Stan were sitting side by side and she was almost learning against him.
"I have some wine too."
"No thanks."
The man shrugged and poured some into a tin mug. "Cynthia knows how to enjoy herself. I could show her a few things and she's keen that I do."
"I don't know what you mean."
Stan looked at Cynthia and they smiled. Cynthia took a sip of wine from his mug and turned back to me. "Aren't you curious? Don't you agree that this place is full of surprises?"
I still didn't get what they were talking about. I looked hard at Cynthia. She seemed amused by something but gave me no help.
"Sit down and take it easy. We can agree Cynthia's a delight. A beauty. And, you know, we won't be very long. Do help yourself to wine."
"Stan and I hit it off from the first," explained Cynthia.
"So I gather."
"And we shouldn't spoil this opportunity." Stan drank his wine. "We need a few moments together. Private moments if you see what I'm getting at. We have to make the most of this chance."
"Bernard won't mind."
What were they trying to tell me? Helpless, I turned to Cynthia but she looked at me with pleading eyes. I didn't know whether she wanted me to save her from a farcical situation or agree to what the man wanted.
"You do know that Cynthia's my wife?"
"I know." He shrugged and turned to Cynthia. "Your husband is a good man."
"He's bewitched by the wood sprites. Look Bernard, you'll have to put up with me. Go and watch birds. Or sit down and have a rest. Go to sleep. You must excuse me a moment."
Turning her back, she stood up, grabbed the waist of her shirt and pulled it over her head in a single movement. Unclasping her bra, she let it drop to the ground. Now she was facing Stan, naked to the waist.
Words don't capture my astonishment. I'd have been certain that Cynthia was incapable of such a provocative act. Had something happened to unsettle her? Or had she managed to hide an exhibitionist tendency for the whole of our time together?
The stranger and I stared at her breasts. Her dark nipples stood proud and her smooth flesh was marked with the seams of her bra. Confused, I did my best to make it a joke.
"Are you a wood nymph?"
She laughed. "What do you think Stan?"
"Your breasts are bewitching. More than a man could hope for."
Turning back to me, she said "That's better. My bra was itching."
"You're making a shameless exhibition."
"Stan likes my breasts and up here it's perfectly natural."
Stan grabbed her arm and pulled her to him so that she was resting on his knee.
"Your husband's confused. We'd better show him what we mean."
His hand touched her breast and she didn't stop him. It was as if I wasn't there. He bent his head and kissed her nipple. Then he kissed her mouth before returning to her breast, a nipple between his lips. She was smiling dreamily, glancing at me and stroking Stan's face and hair and bending to kiss him.
After a bit, his hand was on her thigh. Then his fingers were pulling at her belt clasp. Instead of pushing his hand away, she laughed.
"You want me to take off my shorts?" She didn't look at me and both their hands worked at the buckle. Then she stood up and slipped down her shorts exposing white panties. "What do think?" She paraded about in front of Stan. Then in front of me she hooked them down and kicked them away.
"I hope you approve. That's more like a wood nymph."
She returned to Stan and he stroked her thigh and ran his fingers up her leg to her belly. My mind froze. Cynthia was absorbed in what she was doing and showed no shyness or modesty. Now she sat on his knee, their hands pulling at clothes and caressing one another. There was no conceivable explanation for Cynthia suddenly wanting this. And there was no question that she wanted it.
"I'm a bit sweaty from walking all morning." That was for Stan.
"Don't mind that. You smell like a field of hay." He was nuzzling her cheek and kissing her lips.
"You're so strong."
Her hand caressed Stan's shoulder. Far more shocking was to see it slide down his chest to rest on the bulge at his groin. She rubbed him and stared into his eyes. His fingers slid between her thighs.
"I see what you mean by needing a few private moments," I said but neither of them took any notice.
Cynthia jerked and flushed before she relaxed again. He'd eased a finger into her sex. She closed her eyes and squirmed on him, spreading her legs to show that two of his fingers were knuckle deep. Eyes open, she saw me watching.
"My voyeur husband thinks I'm a whore. He can't take his eyes off me." She thrust her hips against his hand and spread her legs wider, smiling at me and taunting me with her debauchery. Reaching down, she unzipped Stan's fly.
