The Visit Friday 2

Friday

I was standing in the arrivals hall at Heathrow Terminal 3 waiting for Claire's plane to land, and so thrilled that we were about to meet face to face for the first time.

We got to know each other through Facebook. She's a friend of a friend, and we became connected because we started seeing each other's posts and we seemed to share a sense of humour and view on life, and it just sort of progressed from there. We became close friends, emailing and chatting regularly with video calls on Facebook, sharing domestic details of our lives.

Then, about a month ago, she said she wanted to visit the UK and could I recommend somewhere for her to stay? I thought about it, and even discussed it with my husband, Chris. He immediately said, "The Cotswolds. Quintessentially English countryside. She'll love it." I thought this was a wonderful idea, at least as a starting point for her adventure, so I wrote back to her enthusing about the idyllic setting, the beautiful, quiet villages, the rolling landscape.

In reply I got a plea back from Leah. Could I help her with finding somewhere? She wasn't sure what would be best. So I did a search and came up with a sweet looking two bedroom cottage, with it's own private garden, in a small town with all the essentials: A restaurant which was highly recommended, a couple of decent looking pubs, and a few small local shops and supermarkets. It was also close enough that I could make a day trip down to finally meet her, but most importantly it was available for a week at the time Claire was thinking of coming to visit. I e-mailed her:

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Claire,

I think I have the perfect place for you. See the link below. What do you think?

Fiona

xxx

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Within an hour I had a response:

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Wow Fiona!

That place looks wonderful. I've already booked it for the second week in August. I know it's a bit cheeky, but is there any chance you could come and meet me at the airport and drive me down there? Public transport doesn't look great and I've never driven a right hand drive car before. I'm flying in on Friday morning, so maybe you could stay at the cottage with me for a couple of days while I find my feet?

So excited, and hope you don't mind me asking.

Love Claire

xxx

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Of course I had no problem, it would be nice to get away. I talked to Chris and he said, "Why don't you take the whole week with her? Have a little holiday and then she'll have local transport."

"That sounds great, but are you sure?"

"Of course," he smiled, "give me a chance to catch up with a couple of the guys."

And with that I emailed back:

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Hi Claire,

Of course that wouldn't be a problem. In fact Chris has suggested I come and stay the whole week. Would that be ok? Or would I just cramp your style and get under your feet?

Love

Fiona xxx

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Fiona!

What a wonderful surprise! I would love to spend a week with my new best friend!

Really thrilled we'll be spending a whole week together!

Love

Claire

xxxx

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And that was that. It was decided. What I hadn't ever revealed to Claire was that from our exchange of pictures, just normal photos, nothing salacious, and out face only video chats, I was really quite enamoured of her. I wouldn't describe myself as a lesbian, I am married after all, but I certainly do identify myself as bisexual. Of course, it was just a fantasy in my head, and I wouldn't ever dream of scaring her and following up on my feelings, but it meant it was going to make for an interesting week.

However, can I just say that Claire is gorgeous? I'm 5'6' and she's a stunning 5'11". It probably meant I was going to be spending more time in heels than I usually do, but I really didn't mind that. Other contrasts are that she has short-ish, red-brown hair in a really lovely rough cut. I'm a strawberry blonde bordering on a redhead, and I wear my hair just past my shoulders. Additionally I'm 48 and she's ten years younger. In spite of, or perhaps because of these differences we had hit it off almost from the very beginning.

I waited, anxiously watching the arrivals board. It showed her plane had landed at that her luggage was on the carousel. I kept looking for what seemed like an age. And then there she was. I couldn't have missed her from a mile away. She was wearing a red blouse and a charcoal grey skirt that came to just above her knees. She also had shimmery sheer tights, or pantyhose as she would call them, and was wearing dark flats on her feet. Her earrings were small hoops that set her look off perfectly. I was suddenly crucially aware of my rather casual knee length red and white floral print summer dress and bare legs. At least I had some heels on. I wondered how she looked so fresh after an eight hour flight.

I could see her scanning the people waiting at the barrier, and I waved. She caught my eye and her face lit up. "Fiona!" She shouted and ran over, pulling her wheeled case with her, a clutch handbag in her other hand. She rushed over to me, let go of the handle of her case and wrapped her arms around me in a huge hug.

Even though I was in my heels she was a little taller than me and I was quite stunned when, as I wrapped my arms around her and said, "Claire," she kissed me full on the lips. Not for long, but it messed with my perception for a moment. 'Just an American affectation,' I thought to myself.

I stood back and couldn't help the huge grin spreading over my face. "It is so good to meet you at last," I said.

"And you Fi, and you." She used the diminutive of my name which only a very small group of people are given permission to do. I'd already told her to use it, and was so glad that she felt she could,

"Come on, let's get you to the car. I'll take your case." I pulled on the handle and I led her to the lifts, up two floors and headed towards where I had parked.

When we got to the car I opened the boot, or trunk as she'd say, and put her large, and rather heavy case in. We both climbed in. I started the engine and said, "Right. Off on our big adventure. Welcome to the United Kingdom."

She smiled as I drove out, "Thank you so much for organising all this. I couldn't have done it without you, and it's so lovely of you to take a week out to act as my guide."

Her soft, educated American accent was sending shivers down my spine. I really had to concentrate to negotiate the traffic around Heathrow, which is always a little more than insane.

Once we were on the open road heading west, I said, "How do you do it? An 8 hour flight and you look less dishevelled than I do after a 90 minute drive."

She chuckled, a lovely sound, and said, "I cheated. I slept most of the flight, and changed just before we started our descent into London."

We carried on in a similar chatty vain all the way to Burworth, the delightful little town in the Cotswolds that I had picked out for her visit. I couldn't help noticing that quite often when she went to say something, Claire would lay her fingers gently on my arm. I thrilled at her touch, my skin tingling and I kept having to remind myself to get a grip and concentrate on driving safely.

As we entered the outskirts, with its quaint houses, preserved beautifully, Claire breathed out and said, "Oh my god, Fi. This is like some picture postcard."

She was right. It was a beautifully warm, sunny day with clear blue skies. The trees were perfectly outlined against the azure and the predominantly white houses had crisp edges.

My sat nav beeped for me to take a left into a small lane, and about 100 yards later there was the cottage, isolated at the end of the lane. A tall hedge surrounded it with wide gates and a driveway in front. I drove through the gates and pulled up and we both took a moment to take it in.

"Oh Fi. It's a chocolate box cottage. How beautiful."

I smiled. I was very happy with the location. Secluded and private but within easy reach of the town. We got out of the car and got our bags out of the boot. I took the keys the travel agent had sent to me out of my handbag and we headed to the door. I handed the keys to Claire. "You do the honours hun, this is your holiday after all," I said.

She smiled, took the keys and shuffled through to find a key that matched the front door. When she finally located the right one, she pushed the oak door and it swung open revealing a tile flagged entry hall. We stepped in and were grateful to get out of the heat. The hallway was lovely and cool compared to the outside.

I put my handbag down on the dresser in the hall, and Claire laid hers next to mine. I looked at her and asked, "You like?"

"No. I dont like. I love," she said, "it's perfect. Come on, let's go explore. Bags upstairs first?"

I smiled, "It is lovely isn't it?" I took in the pastel shaded walls, the dark wooden staircase turning at the end of the hall and we both took our bags and carried them up the stairs. We got to the light, airy landing, which had a large leaded glass window giving natural light at the far end, and saw four doors. We opened the first one to be presented with a beautiful room with polished wooden floors, thick rugs, and a four poster bed with a huge thick mattress and a plain yellow duvet.

"Let's look at the others before we choose a room, but I would love to sleep in a four poster bed," Claire said.

"It's your holiday hun. If you want it, it's yours," I said.

We left our bags on the landing as we opened the other doors. Door two led us to a bathroom, a huge affair with a large tub big enough for a family, and a walk in double shower. Marble tiling on the floor.

"Oh it just gets better," Claire said. I smiled inside and out.

The next door took us to the second bedroom. Just as grand as the other one, but with, of all things, a waterbed. I have never ever slept on one, but I thought it might be something I would like to try. I went over and sat on the edge and felt the gentle swell under my bottom.

Claire came and sat next to me and this made more waves. She smiled, "I've never slept on a waterbed or a four poster. Now I'm torn."

I smiled, "We can always swap over. Take it in turns so you can experience both?"

Claire looked at me like she was about to say something important and then just mumbled, "Mm. Yes. We could do that."

We got up and crossed the hall. The final door opened into a large study with a writing desk, a large sofa, a comfortable looking office chair and French Windows which, when we opened them, led out onto a balcony with a large swing chair on it overlooking a beautifully manicured lawn with splashes of colour everywhere from a whole host of plants. We both stood and marvelled. It was idyllic. Nobody overlooked us, and our view was of rolling landscape as far as the eye could see.

"My god Fi. I could stand here forever."

"It is wonderful isn't it?"

"So which room is yours?" Claire asked me, turning my way.

I looked up at her and said, "I think I fancy the one with the waterbed. Is that ok with you?"

A curious look passed over her face that I thought was disappointment, she smiled and said, "Perfect. I get the four poster."

We headed back to the landing and picked up our bags. Claire turned to me, "Do you mind if I take a shower? I feel I need to wake up a little and even though I changed I feel a bit drab after that long flight."

"Of course!" I said, "I might even join you." Realising what I'd just said, and how it could be taken, I flustered and said, "I mean, I might take one after you. Obviously."

Claire laughed, "Feel free to come chat while I wash. I'm not self conscious."

I couldn't believe what she'd just said. I looked at her thoughtfully for a second, and said, with as much normality in my voice as I could muster, "Sure. I'll see you in a minute. When I've unpacked my bag."

With that we headed off to our respective rooms. I probably set a world record in unpacking my clothes for the week. Everything from sexy little dresses and skirts, to Jeans and tee shirts. I put everything away in drawers or hung them up, and took my special bag out and put it in my bedside table. I briefly lay down on the bed and was amazed at the way the gentle wave motion was so relaxing. Realising I needed to call home and let Chris know I was here and safe, I went back downstairs and got my mobile out of my handbag. I dialled and It rang a couple of times before he answered.

"Fi! Everything ok? Did Claire get there?"

"Hello darling. Yes. Claire's here and we're at the cottage. It is just wonderful. You should see it. As Claire said, it's a chocolate box."

"Sounds fantastic. So what are you going to get up to today? Any plans?"

I laughed, "We only just got here darling. I suppose we'll play it by ear mostly."

"Well, I'm sure you'll play it well. Thanks for phoning love. I'm out with Andy and the lads this evening, so don't worry too much about me. Just relax and enjoy a well earned break. Love you!"

"I love you too darling. I'll call you when I can. Mwah." And with that the call disconnected and I dropped my phone back in my bag.

I went back upstairs to my room and took my wash bag out of my case and steeled myself. I'd heard Claire go into the bathroom and could now hear the rush of water in the shower. I imagined her body under the water and then shook myself. 'Get a grip, Fiona' I said to myself, 'she's just very open minded and it's probably an American cultural thing.'

I walked down the hall and tentatively knocked on the bathroom door. Claire called out, "Come on in Fi," and I pushed and the door opened.

Claire was naked in the glass walled shower, her back to me. She had shampoo in her hair and was rinsing it out with the powerful shower head. There was a chair in the corner, so I went and sat on it. I thought I should probably act as normal as possible.

"So, is it a good shower?" I asked. I know. Pretty feeble in the 'opening a conversation with a goddess' stakes.

She turned towards me and I caught my first sight of her beautiful body. Her breasts were full but not too large, with large pink areolae and pink nipples. Everything was in proportion, and I could see the small sparse triangle of her pubic hair. I realised I had probably been looking a little too closely for too long and looked up into her eyes. She smiled at me and said, "It's a great shower. I'd been warned that British plumbing was terrible, but if this is the standard, I was obviously misinformed."

I smiled, "Oh it can be. But we're getting better at it."

"You really should join me," she said, "there's plenty of room and you could wash the soap off my back for me."

I was flabbergasted. Again. She was actually asking me to join her in the shower? I so wanted to, but I still didn't want to scare her off. "Really?" I said.

"Yes, Fi. Really? Don't make me beg. Please?"

My heart in my throat I stood up and took my heels off, placing them under the chair. Then I reached behind and undid my dress, letting it fall off my shoulders, revealing my braless 34b breasts. I looked over at Claire and she was standing under the water and preening herself. Very self consciously I lowered my plain cotton panties down my legs to the floor, revealing my trimmed pubic bush. I always leave a triangle above, but I have the rest off when I go for my salon days. I picked up my dress and panties and draped them over the back of the chair. I knew this was displacement activity, but I really was quite nervous. I turned and walked over to the shower. Claire pushed the door open to let me in and I stepped over the threshold. Without my shoes the difference in our height was quite distinct and I looked up at her.

Claire handed me the detachable shower head, "Could you rinse my back off for me please, Fi?" And with that she turned around. I lifted the shower head and sprayed it over her, I played the water down over her lower back and delicious looking buttocks. Tentatively I reached a hand out and brushed down her spine. Claire practically purred, "Oh yes. That's lovely. When you've finished rinsing me, I'll help you if you like?"

I really didn't trust myself to speak, but I went ahead anyway, my voice shaking slightly. "Yes. I think I'd enjoy that."

She turned again, and I was there, close to her. It was so intimate. I held up the shower spray and let it play over her breasts. I noticed that her nipples were quite stiff. There was something very electric about the air around us, and I was working on automatic pilot as I let the powerful spray play down and over her pussy. She shuddered as the water ran down her pubic hair and into her most intimate area. I heard her whisper, "Yes. Yes. Don't stop."

I knew what she meant. I have had many a happy orgasm from a powerful shower spray. I noticed there was a dial on the head, and I turned it 'Pulse'. The water started coming out in rapid spurts and I just let the water play straight onto her. She opened her legs slightly and leant back against the wall. I lowered the spray so that it was pointing up straight onto her clit. I couldn't help watching in erotic fascination as I saw it emerge, poking slightly out from its hood. I realised just how turned on I was watching this, and if it hadn't been for all the water around us, I was pretty sure I would be dripping anyway.

Claire's eyes were closed and she held her breasts and tweaked her nipples as I continued to play the water over her. Suddenly she started moaning deeply and I could hear her guttural cries of, "Oh god, oh god. Yes." And that was it. She suddenly cried out loudly and her body started convulsing with an orgasm that was flushing her skin from her beautiful pussy outwards over her stomach and breasts, up to and over her beautiful throat. "Aaaahhhhh," she screamed as her legs gave way underneath her and she slid down the wall to the floor. I followed her down so that I was kneeling between her legs, still spraying the shower on her and she started shuddering again. "Oh god. Again? Oh yes," and she tensed again and her fists clenched as another fierce orgasm ripped through her. I was mesmerised, watching her. I was more turned on than I can remember being for a long time.

Finally her climax receded and she opened her eyes, "Oh my god Fi. You can't believe how long I've wanted this."

I looked in her eyes, dropping the shower head on the floor and said, "Really? Trust me. The feeling is entirely mutual."

She leaned forward, her legs open around my thighs and kissed me. Properly. It was soft, passionate. She wrapped her legs around me and I returned the kiss. Running my hands behind her head, through her hair. We kissed and caressed for what could have been five minutes or five hours. Both lost in the passion. Tasting each other. She pulled on my lower lip with her mouth, I let my tongue gently circle her lips. Our hands caressed all over each other's backs, sides, thighs. Everywhere. Then I felt a touch between my legs. She was running her fingers up along the outside of my lips, up to the top and then back down. It was making me shiver right through. I fell towards her, opening myself to her touch. She pushed me back gently and without a word we changed positions so that my back was against the wall, legs open and she was kneeling between them. She started her stroking on my lips again and I was desperate for her touch on my now very engorged clit. Suddenly it was there. Her thumb and forefinger either side, gently massaging me. Pulling up and down. Squeezing gently. Without stopping she leant forward and kissed me on the lips, and then down my neck to the rise of my breasts and down to a nipple. She took it in her mouth and sucked then gently nibbled on it with her teeth.

I was powerless. Completely under her spell. The feelings in my pussy were so intense. My clit was alive and every nerve in my body was tingling. She didn't change her rhythm and I could feel how close I was to an orgasm. I could feel it rising, and then this huge shock wave ran through me when she stopped moving her fingers. Just holding me still. It had quite the opposite effect of what I would have expected. It made the feelings peak even more. A few seconds later she started moving again and that was it. I went completely over the edge. An explosive orgasm, centred in my pussy, spread all the way out over and through my body. I thought I was going to lose consciousness. I cried out, I don't know if I was loud, or quiet. I was so wrapped up in the inside outness of my orgasm I was barely aware of anything but her touch and the waves rushing through my body. I shuddered against her and wailed as it continued ripping through me, her fingers still working their magic.