The Picture
It was the last straw.
Claire had only agreed to go to the music festival with her boyfriend John at the last minute. They had thrown some clothes in a bag and John had borrowed a small tent from a friend. It had been fun at first, the music and atmosphere was good until the second day when the weather changed and the rain hadn't let up from then. To compound matters, John had met some friends from university and had more or less abandoned Claire to go drinking with them.
Then John arrived back to the sodden tent drunk and tried unsuccessfully to coax Claire into having sex. Fed up with being left in a tiny tent in what was rapidly becoming a sea of mud, a blazing row ensued which resulted in Claire telling John to fuck off - which he did, going back to join his friends drinking. Claire hastily packed her bag and went out into the heavy rain, leaving the festival site and walking down the road at the perimeter of the campsite.
It was getting dark as she walked; and angry and in tears she had no idea where she was going - just away, away from the mud and from John. As she walked on she quickly lost track of time and had no idea how far she had walked, only that it was now getting dark, it was still raining and there seemed to be little traffic. She stopped for a moment to consider her position and began to wonder if she had been a little bit hasty as she appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, with no shelter. A few cars passed by, but no-one appeared to pay her any attention. She was beginning to get really concerned when the lights of car illuminated her. It passed like the rest, but then braked and stopped, reversing back to her. She saw that it was a new Landrover jeep and only contained the driver.
The passenger door was pushed open and a female voice said, 'You look like you can use a lift'. As it was her only option, Claire quickly grabbed her bag and climbed into the front passenger seat, mumbling her thanks. She looked round and saw that the driver was a slim, friendly looking woman in her late thirties with short red hair and an engaging smile. Claire noticed that she was wearing tight blue jeans and an expensive looking pale blue blouse.
'Hi, I'm Sarah' said the driver, 'you look as if you need dried out, you are absolutely soaked. What are you doing out in this weather?' Claire gave her the basic details of her predicament, nearly bursting into tears whist telling her story. Sarah said, 'I'll tell you what, you can stay at my place tonight, I have a spare room. We will get your clothes dried and get you fixed up with something to eat.'
In her exhausted state, this was the best news Claire and heard and she thanked Sarah profusely.
It took about another 15 minutes driving until Sarah pulled up at a set of electric gates leading to a large detached house in its own grounds. On the journey they had easily made small talk and Sarah stated that she was returning from her work as a modelling manager in a nearby town. Parking the car, the pair dashed through the rain to the front door. On opening it Clare walked into a large tastefully decorated hallway, tiled and dominated by a large chandelier.
'Welcome to my humble abode' laughed Sarah and then, 'follow me, I'll show you the guest room.' Going up the stairs, Sarah gave a running commentary, 'I bought this place about 4 years ago and am just getting things the way I want them. This is the master bedroom on the right and here on the left is the guest bedroom.' Leading the way Sarah opened the door into a large tastefully decorated room, larger than any bedroom Claire had ever seen, with a king sized bed and deep pile carpet. Sarah opened a door into a shower room which was larger than most of the rooms in Claire's flat. Tiled from floor to ceiling, the room contained a large walk-in shower, toilet, wash hand basin and a large mirror.
In the mirror, Claire was horrified to see her bedraggled state with her long brown hair plastered to her head. She then realised that she was shivering despite the heat of the house and Sarah said, 'Quick, get out of those wet things, I'll get them in the wash for you.' And she left the shower room. Claire immediately began to strip off, throwing her top on the floor and undoing her soaking jeans which clung stubbornly to her thighs as she attempted to step out of them.
Reaching behind she undid her bra dropping it on the pile of sodden clothes on the floor. Claire's breasts - her best attribute she always thought, swung free as she struggled with her jeans. Size 36 C with pink nipples pointing upwards, they had drawn admiration from many of her schoolfriends growing up. As she stepped out of her jeans, Sarah arrived back in the shower room with a large striped towel, pyjamas and a white fluffy bathrobe.
Claire hooked her thumbs in her panties and quickly stepped out of them, throwing them with the other clothes. As she did so she caught sight of Sarah staring intently at the tight black curls which covered her pubic mound. As she stood up she caught Sarah's eye, and flustered at being caught looking, Sarah swept up the wet clothes and told Claire that there was plenty of hot water and to take as long as she wanted. She then said that she would get the clothes into the wash and that Claire should come to the kitchen when she was ready for something hot to eat.
Dismissing the notion that Sarah had been staring at her, Claire turned on the shower, luxuriating in the steaming hot jets of water. She spent an age in the shower, washing away the memory of three days living in primitive conditions. With toilet provisions at the campsite being primitive, she paid special attention to thoroughly cleaning her pussy and ass.
Finally, clean and warm, Claire stepped out of the shower, towelling herself dry, before putting on the pyjamas and then the fluffy bathrobe. Stepping into the bedroom in search of a hairbrush, she became aware of a large painting on the wall opposite the bed which she had missed when entering the room. It was of a naked young woman reclining on a bed with tossed bedclothes. She had long blond hair and a dreamy look on her face. She had small breasts with pert nipples and had one leg drawn up. This drew Claire's attention to her shaven cunt which was painted in great detail, with the lips slightly parted and on closer inspection Claire saw that they were definitely glistening, suggesting that sex had just taken place.
Although all her previous sexual experiences had been with men, Claire found herself intrigued and mildly aroused by the painting.
Descending the stairs, Claire easily found the large country kitchen where Sarah was busy at the hob. A table was set for two with linen napkins, wine glasses and lit by two candles. Turning round, Sarah smiled and said, 'I bet you feel much better now! Just about ready, I hope pasta with bolognaise is ok?' Nodding her assent, Claire was ushered to a seat where a plate of steaming pasta, sauce and garlic bread was set in front of her. 'Red or white?' enquired Sarah. 'White is fine for me' Claire replied. Pouring two large glasses, Sarah sat and they began to eat. 'Tell me about yourself then' Sarah began, and Claire found herself telling this engaging older woman all about her early life and about school and university.
As she sipped the wine, Claire became more relaxed and both women chatted freely. Claire learned that Sarah had divorced ten years before and managed a successful modelling agency providing models to major fashion publications.
The meal finished, Claire helped clear the plates away and Sarah pointed to an adjoining snug where a sofa was drawn up in front of a blazing open fire. As she sat on the sofa, Claire was glad to be inside as she saw that the rain was still beating off the windows.
After a short delay, Sarah joined her, having quickly changed into silky pyjama trousers and top covered by an expensive looking gown. Sarah refilled both her and Claire's glasses and Claire was somewhat surprised when Sarah sat beside her on the sofa, with both women resting their feet on the footstool in front of the fire, instead of Sarah taking the large reclining chair opposite.
