Picture this, a magical cottage located in a sun blessed idyllic corner of the English countryside. Everything was fresh and green, dawn was met with a golden glow, here wildlife thrived and you could experience a genuine affinity with nature. Cocooned blissfully in this bucolic paradise, Lucinda and Francesca, inside the master bedroom of the cottage, lay on the Ivory silk bedding of the four poster bed. Their naked bodies, entwined in a fleshy embrace, sweat drying on their delicate skin, looked like alabaster figurines in the luminous opulence of the moonlight flooding into the room on a sultry night.
Lucinda was a classic English rose, tall and slender with exquisitely delicate features, blue eyed and pale, full red lips and blue eyes that were like limpid pools, her glossy shoulder length raven hair brushed impossibly straight. Aside her, bathing in the afterglow of their love making, Francesca was short and muscular, her olive skinned limbs toned and wiry. She had big tits and a meaty arse with brunette corkscrew curls, bewitching brown eyes and a thin lipped slightly cruel mouth true to her Sicilian roots.
They had met five weeks ago when Lucinda had gone up to London after graduating in art history at Oxford. Daddy, a stockbroker of great wealth and little conscience, passed down through the generations, had secured her a job at a high profile fashion magazine, a rather vague social media role that included numerous trips to pick up mass orders at Starbucks.
Francesca was a freelance fashion photographer and they had met a party. Despite the age gap between them, Francesca was 27 to Lucinda's 21, it was the seemingly timid younger woman who had initiated things between them. A night of rough sex at Lucinda's plush flat taught Francesca that she was far from the demure naif she projected herself as, possessing a high pain threshold and a passive aggressive streak that was subtly manipulative. She also knew how to suck pussy and was gorgeous so Francesca was happy to ham it up as the butch older woman to keep her content.
Francesca sensed she was being used as a preparatory experience before Lucinda went on a voracious quest for a variety of lovers but didn't care. Hell, she was only it for the ride and fabulous dining. So when in the middle of a glorious summer heatwave Lucinda asked her to come to daddy's cottage for the weekend, drive down Friday evening, drive back early Monday morning, Francesca immediately assented. Daddy sent his chauffeur, an ex army type of robust and mature vintage, in the silver phantom to drive them down, much to Francesca's astonishment and hilarity. They drank champers then Lucinda fingered her on the backseat as the chauffeur veered off towards the central reservation.
And now there they were. In the cottage, in the bed, in the moonlight. The hot wax was drying on Lucinda's back while Francesca tenderly stroked the wound on her back. Lucinda's claws had dug deep into Francesca's back when she was finger fucking her and working a tapered white dinner candle up her lubricated anus. After they had brought each other to orgasm they dozed off in each other's arms, Francesca amused and a little bewildered by the way Lucinda had gone asleep clutching the candle, which was coated with a glistening and bloody mix of vaginal juices and rectal mucus.
In the middle of night Lucinda shook Francesca awake.
"Do you love me?"
"What," said Francesca blearily.
"Do you love me?" repeated Lucinda.
"What the fuck Lucinda? You've never struck me as the insecure type. Of course I have feelings for you but let's save it for the breakfast table."
Francesca snaked her arms around Lucinda and pulled her tight against her in the spoons position. She kissed Lucinda's neck tenderly, "Go to sleep baby."
