Susan

"This is just so marvellous," she added, stretching to the point where her blanket rolled off her legs and on to the floor, and I found myself up close and personal with a very naked lady.

"I am so sleepy and so tired but also so gloriously happy," whispered Susan. "I sort of figured I'd either end up in Charlie's house, freezing cold and hungry, or in some awful B & B, freezing cold and hungry. But, here we are."

"This is so nice," she added, yawning. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all." I said laughing. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

Susan rolled over her on side, smiled and then whispered "I feel gloriously wanton. How do you feel?"

"The same," I replied, matching her tone and volume. "If I get your meaning."

"You do? Good..." said Susan, downing the last of her wine. "What had you in mind with regards to sleeping arrangements?"

"There's a guest room opposite the main bedroom," I said. "It's lovely and warm in there. I put the heating on a while ago and there's an electric blanket, if you feel cold."

"Really?" said Susan,

"But, then again, my room is just over the landing, and I always sleep with the door open...".

I paused and smiled, and stared right into her gorgeous eyes.

"Tell you what," I said. "I have a few jobs to perform - chuck Sam out, give him something to eat and give him his meds, then lock the place up properly. And maybe I'll think about taking a shower too because, well, I need one. It's been a long, long day. And then... we'll see, eh?"

"That sounds like a good plan," said Susan.

Susan stood, wrapped her blanket tightly and grabbed her leggings. She waited until I'd sorted myself out and then trailed me to the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll be a couple of minutes," I said. "Shout if you need something."

And, with that, Susan left me to my chores.

As a precaution against the aforementioned Poachers, I slipped into my jeans (Commando!) and a t-shirt, and began to close the house down for the night. I had trouble moving Sam away from the fireplace and over to the back door but he went anyway, albeit reluctantly. Once Sam had done his thing, I fed him then locked the place up and put the lights out.

I went to my room and quietly slipped into the shower. Alas, there was no sign at all of Susan.

Thoroughly cleansed, I slipped out of the shower, wrapped myself in a robe and poked my head around her door. Again, no sign of her.

Footsteps? Yeah, I heard footsteps. And a couple of creaky floorboards, too. I listened carefully. They seemed to be coming from the Temple, so named because it used to be a Masonic Temple at the turn of the twentieth century. I paused at the huge oak door and listened. Yes, there was someone inside. I pushed the door wide and there, illuminated by a quarter Moon climbing lazily over the eastern horizon, was Susan.

Naked.

"I hope you don't mind but I couldn't resist," whispered Susan. "It was too much of a draw. I had to see it."

I wasn't annoyed and felt no sense of intrusion. However, whilst this is a big house and someone could, conceivably find themselves lost and disorientated, my husband has this whole floor fitted out with concealed video cameras, all of which are connected to a Ring service, which he routinely checks, if only to see if I've left him any surprises, which I do, occasionally. I'm nice like that.

Susan was standing next to the enormous windows which run the full length of room. We've had double-glazing fitted, augmenting the original Victorian fittings so the room is no longer the 'ice-box' it was when we first moved in.

"Hey," she said. "This... really is quite, quite amazing."

"It is, isn't it?" I replied. "The original timbers, properly treated and restored. The original external windows, cleaned and restored, and then reinforced with triple glazing and modern safety glass. At a guess, we're fairly sure this is what this room might have looked like in its heyday, without the furniture, of course."

"What about the furniture?" asked Susan. "Is any of it still around? I'd love to see it."

I sighed. "Sadly, no." I said. "We found it in one of the attic rooms. Some of it was full of woodworm and too far gone. Completely rotten. Broke my heart to have to burn it. But.. still... "

"Such a shame," said Susan.

"Never mind," I said. "We found plenty of replacement pieces on eBay and they're in storage. But that's another project for another day. Right now, it serves as a music room and rehearsal space."

"But it was a Masonic Temple, right?" asked Susan.

"Oh yeah," I said. "We found some photographs of the original layout, taken around 1920. Maybe earlier, and they show lots of Masons in their full regalia. Provincial rank, too, so this place must have been pretty important. It certainly looked quite grand."

"What an amazing sight," whispered Susan. "Right now, the feel, the ambience, reminds me so much of 'Women in Love'. Oliver Reed and Glenda Jackson..."

"And Alan Bates too," I said. "One of my favourites. And I know which bit you're talking about."

"The Wrestling Match?" said Susan.

"Of course," I said. "The first time I'd seen two men... You know... With their knobs out..."

Susan laughed "But they weren't gay, were they? And they didn't do anything, did they? That was the point of the scene. Two rivals in love, sorting out their differences."

"I guess but..." I said. "You'd have to know the mind of the Ken Russel, right?"

"True... I suppose..."

"Well," I said. "I found it incredibly arousing."

"It was incredibly arousing," said Susan. "And still is."

"It's cold in here," I said. "Lemme put the fire on then you can have that full 'Women in Love' experience."

"The full experience?" said Susan. "I do hope so..."

I smiled and went to light the fire. A single click and it burst into life, the entire room flooded with a flickering amber glow.

"This really is quite, quite idyllic," said Susan.

"I do hope so," I said, giggling. "Because that was the intention"

"What about the Poachers? Can't they see?"

"Probably but... I could care less."

Susan tossed her blanket to one side and pressed herself up against the freezing window panes. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," she said.

"You'll leave a mark... and then I'll catch Hell off my darling housekeeper."

"I'm sure you, or I, could sweet talk her into giving us a Hall pass on that one..." said Susan.

The Moon was climbing in the east, adding an eerie blue-white glow to the amber twilight from the fire. Down below, a fox ambled across the lawn heading in the general direction of the river.

Susan shut her eyes and smiled. "I am truly blessed, am I not?"

"And so am I..." I said.  "I wish I had my camera. The view from here is rather lovely..."

I saw an opportunity. I moved towards her, let my robe drop and then put my arm around her waist, my head resting on her shoulders.

"This is lovely," she said, staring into the distance. "You are lovely."

"I think I'm going to kiss you," she added.

I smiled. "I think I might kiss you back."

And we kissed. Lord, did we kiss? My knees nearly buckled from under me.

We stayed by the windows, arm in arm, watching the foxes gambling in the moonlight for a few minutes before Susan led me by the hand over to the Loveseat parked in front of the fire. She sat down whilst I simply flopped onto the floor at her feet.

"You're okay with this?" I whispered.

She nodded.

"You're not gonna freak?"

Susan shook her head, smiling that gorgeous smile of hers.

I leant forwards and pushed her ankles apart then kissed her calves and her knees as softly as I could, tiny delicate lips landing upon moist skin. I opened her legs ever so slightly and watched for any reaction. She looked nervous but did not withdraw as I continued my upward path towards her thighs and belly.

At length, my hand came to rest on her pussy, fingertips grabbing and pulling at the dense patch of hair that covered her pubis. She raised a leg and draped it artlessly over the side of the chair. Subtle? No. Not at all.

Susan stared hard into my eyes as my tongue continued on its mission. She called out loud as I found her mark but she caught the scream before it went too far and spoiled the moment.

Susan instantly put her left leg over the other arm of the chair, and giggled. I found myself staring at her pussy lips, which were pink and full and very wet.

"You like?" she whispered. "I am such a slut..."

I nodded.

"That's what... three sessions of Yoga a week does for you," she said in a tone that was dark and husky.

I slipped a finger right inside her and then another, and then began to bring her off with a slow rhythmic stroke that left her wilting in her seat.

"Dear Lord, don't stop!" she whispered. She began to buck and push her pubic bone hard against the heel of my hand. She shut her eyes and bared her teeth, her breathing deep and rapid, and then threw her arms over the back of the Love Seat as an orgasm took hold.

I pressed my mouth hard against her flesh and breathed hard as the tough wiry strands of pubic hair pushed their way into my upper lip. I eased a hand between her butt cheeks and held her in place to dampen some of the movement in her hips, if only to stop her kicking me in the pelvis. My hand was suddenly sodden wet, as if she'd squirted on me. Yeah, she had, which is quite the turn on, no?

Yeah, I had pussy juices all over my face and rolling down my neck, my chest, between my boobs eventually pooling in the space between my knees.

And then she came. Oh, Wow! And then some. She screamed and gasped and yelled out so much than poor Sam started barking on the floor below. I didn't pause. Not until she was done writhing about as though possessed. I didn't let go until she pushed my head away and begged me to stop. She jammed her hands between her thighs and winced. Too much of a good thing, no?

I waited until she'd recovered, until the smile had returned, before pulling back a little, if only to rest my ankles which were uncomfortable to the point of being painful. Her brow was now peppered with a myriad of tiny beads of sweat. Her upper lip was the same. She smiled that beautiful smile as tears began to form. I stood, turned off the fire and took her hand in mine. I pulled her gently to her feet and then led her to my room.

"Time to sleep," I said. "It's a quarter to one."

"Is it?" said Susan.

Once in the main bedroom, I sat down on the edge of my bed and pulled her close. The scent of her sex was incredibly strong. I drew my legs underneath me and invited her to lie down. Once comfortable, and the duvet in place, we kissed and kissed, and kissed some more.

"Let me help you sleep..." she whispered. I wasn't sure if I was in the mood but... Yeah, I was.

Slow delicate kisses about my neck and then my shoulders, heading south at a pace that suggested she was as impatient as I. She paused at my breasts, took one in her hand and one in her mouth, and expertly tonguing my nipples until they were sticking up like a pair of frozen peas. Her hand landed atop my pubis and then pressed down hard. I groaned audibly and then pushed back against her, my hips rising to meet her steady grip.

She reached down and cupped my pussy, pressing hard against my labia, the palm of her hand still grinding against my pubic bone. I could feel my pussy starting to ooze, my lips becoming hot and inflamed. She backed off and rang her fingers through my pubes, twisting and teasing them until I winced ever so slightly.

A finger entered me. Just one, and so expertly placed that I gasped out loud. Her head moved down towards my belly. I took the opportunity to flick on the bedside light, simply so that I could get a better view. That said, I couldn't see much - my view was obscured by a mass of silver grey curly hair that tumbled over her shoulders and across my belly. I spread my legs as wide as they would go then bent my knees so that my back was slightly arched. So much easier on the neck vertebrae.

Susan pushed a second finger home and then a third. "Am I gonna get fisted?" I thought. I haven't had much luck on that front in all my years so... maybe tonight? Maybe another tick on that Bucket List?

Maybe... because she was an absolute expert at licking pussy. She knew just what to do and how to do it, how to pace her moves and when to back away.

I reached down and had a quick feel under the bed, searching for a towel because I knew that I was probably going to end up soaking wet down there and wet patches are difficult to explain even on a good day. I also grabbed the lube - the water-based stuff that doesn't sting and doesn't leave (much of) a stain.

A fourth finger entered and pushed hard, and then there was the sudden chill of the lube dribbling down my thighs. Dear Lord above, I'm about to get fisted. Please, yes. A dream come true.

And then... Shit. That hurt. I mean that really hurt but then... Fuck, that's nice. That is soooo nice. I let out a tiny yelp and then a gasp. I didn't need to look down to realise that her whole hand was inside me but I did anyway. She was definitely inside me, right up to her wrist, and...

I grabbed the bed and nigh on screamed. Susan rocked her hand back and forward, back and forward. I caught a glimpse of her breasts swaying. Great big gorgeous, pendulous breasts.

When I couldn't stand any more of her hand reaching deep inside me - it was simply too intense and I became convinced that I was about to pee the bed - I asked her (politely) to withdraw. She did, and then sat upright on her knees. I hopped up on top of her, put my arms around her neck and kissed her hard, all the while grinding my crotch into her thighs to the point where I came in a series of long, low guttural moans than ran around the house like the roar from some ancient Hell Hound.

I collapsed to one side, my hands jammed between my thighs. Thirty seconds later and we were curled up together, legs entwined, and fast asleep.

I didn't sleep particularly well and was awake, and then out of bed before six, which is not much earlier than usual but... still...

I'd already decided that breakfast would be a more indulgent affair than usual. Coffee and croissants are my weapon of choice if a guest is proving reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of a heavy duvet, and they worked a charm. Susan appeared shortly after seven wearing a robe borrowed from the guest room although she looked slightly the worse for the evening's drinking spree. She flopped down in one of the kitchen chairs and sighed.

"How much did we drink last night?"

I counted the empty bottles by the kitchen door. "Just three," I said. "I hid the fourth. Figured we'd had enough."

"Good," said Susan. "Proof positive, if any where actually needed, that you can have too much of a good thing."

"I'm not one for drinking these days," she added.

"I've never found a reliable cure for a hangover yet. Except perhaps not drinking quite so much in the first instance."

"True enough," said Susan. "Is there any coffee?"

"Just made some," I said. "But don't eat and drink too much at the moment. There's the Pool to explore, and I fully intend to wash away my sins by way of a long swim."

Susan looked up. Her eyes were blood shot and her skin slightly grey. "You said you had a Pool, though I wasn't sure if you were... teasing me..."

"We do," I replied. "It's private and secluded, and there's nobody else here so we can indulge ourselves as necessary."

"I need to ask," said Susan. "Before we go any further... "

"Yeah, what's up?"

A long dark stare shot across her face. "You're okay with what happened last night?"

"Yes, of course..." I replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You sure? You're not going to ghost me or tell all of your friends that I'm an easy lay?"

I shook my head rather emphatically. "No, absolutely not," I said. "That would be a horrible thing to do."

"Then good," said Susan. "I've kinda noticed that you and Charlotte are close friends."

"We are," I said. "Very close."

"How do you think she'd take the idea that her God Mother had slept with her best friend?"

"How will she even know?" I said. "Because I won't say a word, even if she asks..."

"What about your husband?" asked Susan. "Will he say anything? Is he the jealous type?"

I stepped away from the counter top and took hold of her hands. "You want the truth?" I asked.

Susan nodded. "Yes, please."

"He'd have a problem if you had a cock," I said. "But then so would I."

"Meaning?"

"We have an arrangement," I said. "He's okay with my... excursions.... so to speak, so long as I don't lie, don't conceal, perhaps give him some of the details. Then he's cool. Actually, he's more than cool. He knows that if he does the right things, says the right thing, plays his cards right then he might receive an invite to an adventure, should the occasion arise."

"And does the occasion arise?" asked Susan.

"Sometimes," I said. "If he's a good boy."

"And is he?"

"He is... "

"We don't ever have secrets," I added.

"I wish my husband had been a bit more... positive in his... attitude," said Susan.

I didn't really want to spend the next hour listening to a post-shag tale of woe and misery, as often happens when there's an element of guilt lurking beneath the surface. That may sound a bit cold and a bit brutal but I truly wasn't in the mood for a buzzkill. I'm not one for chalking my conquests on the bed post but I was feeling particularly good about Susan and I didn't want to lose that vibe.

"Grab your coffee cup and let's explore the water," I said. "I put the heating on at six so it should be perfect about now."

"I haven't got a costume," said Susan.

"You don't need one,"

"Ah, well," she whispered. "If that's the case then..."

The grass was wet and cold and just impossibly gorgeous as we made our way to the Pool Room. I'd already pushed the button to retract the covers before we left the kitchen and I could hear the warming buzz of the motors slowly dragging the shell away as we approached.

"We can't be seen, can we?" asked Susan.

"Not at all," I replied. "I switched the security cameras off before we left..."

That wasn't true, actually. I was going to switch them off but forgot. I figured that, should anything happen, I might enjoy watching the playback at a more opportune moment.

I dipped my toes in the water - cold but not unpleasantly so - and then moved to the far end of the Pool and behind one of the banana trees we installed in the spring, adding a mental note to remember to take them in again before the frosts arrive.

Susan sat down and wrapped her huge white bathrobe about her as tightly as it would go. I sensed that she wasn't entirely comfortable with last night's activities. Guilt? Yeah, guilt. I know the signs too well to ignore them.

"Hey," I said. "I know that look."

"Is is obvious?" replied Susan.

"Yeah... If you're not comfortable with this then don't feel under any pressure."

"I'm just worried," said Susan. "Worried that Charlotte will find out and she'll hate me."

"She won't find out from me," I said. "I give you my word."

"Plus, Charlotte..." I added. "Talk to her. She's amazing. She's cool. I love her to bits. But this? Us? Trust me. It's safe."

"What about your husband? Are you sure he won't get all jealous and tell her?"

"Not all all," I said. "He's utterly discrete. He knows what would happen if he opened his mouth."

"What would happen?"

"His access to the good stuff would be severely limited," I said, laughing. "And by that I mean that we share. We're open and honest. We do stuff. We play. We enjoy other people. He wouldn't do anything that would take away his access to... friends and acquaintances."

Susan was plainly going through a real emotional drop and, from experience, further discussions don't help except to reinforce any lingering doubts. I lowered my robe, tossed it onto a chair and stepped into the pool. Susan looked over and smiled but otherwise remained seated.