Lydia returned to her room to dress, clean and satisfied. She rifled through her overnight bag, knowing that the plan for the day was a walk and a picnic.
Lydia selected a small pair of denim shorts and a white vest top- out of consideration for the hot weather. Out of practicality she also threw a cardigan in her handbag. She put on her white bra from the day before, and a pair of pink cotton knickers, and slipped on some sandals.
Having swiftly run a brush through her hair, Lydia joined David and Claire.
As the trio breakfasted together Claire was solicitous of their guest.
'Did you sleep ok? I'm afraid that guest bedroom can get a little stuffy'.
'Oh, it was fine thanks. Much rather be too warm than too cold!'
David and Lydia exchanged brief eye contact.
'At least you didn't have to share it with one of those pinstriped auditors you're so fond of' David quipped.
This was a reference to a previous boyfriend, a Deloitte accountant that Claire had introduced Lydia to. He had not lasted long in her affections.
'Haha. Very funny, David'. Lydia enunciated every word, with sing-song sarcasm.
'Oh stop flirting with her, you horrible man', Claire interjected. 'Let's get going, it's lovely outside'.
--
David parked the car, and picked up the picnic basket from the boot. After vaulting the fence, the three ambled up the gentle slope of the hill, Claire and Lydia chatting as they went. They spread out their rug in shade of a small copse.
The view was perfect, not a soul to be seen for miles around. Claire settled down in the shade, whilst Lydia lay in the sun. She put on a large pair of sunglasses, and rolled up her top to just below her boobs.
'Any opportunity!' she called out.
David surreptitiously admired the flat, tanned expanse of her stomach at every opportunity, and her seemingly endless legs. Naturally, Lydia was completely aware of this. Claire whispered into her husband's ear.
'I do apologise for my exhibitionist friend'.
After a while, Claire's resolve broke. 'Right, picnic time!'
This was enough to summon Lydia from her horizontal posture.
The trio ate, drank and chatted. The food was excellent, 'from a darling little deli in Amersham' as Claire put it, and the sun warm.
Lydia was horribly frustrated. There was no way that she and David would have a chance to sneak away from Claire for long enough to fuck. She decided to take alternative action.
'Do excuse me, nature calls' she trilled, and sashayed into the small stand of thick foliage. David managed a sneaky glance at her wiggling behind.
Lydia knelt in the thick undergrowth, just yards from her friends. She could hear their conversation clearly. Some nonsense about olives, she pro, him vaguely anti. Usual married couples' rubbish she thought to herself.
Lydia undid her shorts. Thrusting a hand into her knickers, she closed her eyes and once more imagined David taking her in the bushes. This time her fantasy involved being fucked face down, a fistful of her hair in his grip. Mud and dirt soiling her pretty skin.
Yes that was it.
Lydia imagined David screwing her like a cheap tart, forcing her head into the soil. Calling her a whore, a cunt, every name under the sun. His strong hands squeezing her tits. His cock up to its hilt inside her.
Her short, sharp gasps were just quiet enough that Claire and David wouldn't hear. She came with a shudder, flooding her knickers with juices. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit her lip, as an exquisite glow filled her.
