"Strawberry, Mrs. Wilson?" Lord Thomas asked, offering me the porcelain bowl filled with the reddest, ripest strawberry's I'd ever seen.
"Yes, thank you, My Lord," I responded with my eyes cast down. When I lifted them to take the strawberry, Lord Thomas held my hand for a few seconds longer than necessary in the exchange of a plump berry. Then, as I watched, he took one himself and worked it slowly between his lips in a sensuous movement that sent my heart palpitating. All the time his eyes were watching mine, and he was undressing me with them--as slowly as he disrobed me before laying with me on those few occasions when he wasn't in such high heat that he took me, like a dog, on the stairs to my bed chamber.
I turned and looked at Lady Emma, hoping beyond all hope that she was not seeing the possessing look Lord Thomas was giving me--but her eyes were on mine as well, and they had the same look of ownership and domination that her husband's had. Then she looked away and I also looked back at Lord Thomas.
He was holding a strawberry in his mouth and Emma turned her face to him. She brought her lips to his, and they lustily shared the fruit, the red pulp dripping down their chins. I cast my eyes down, not wishing to intrude on this intimate moment between husband and wife, and I saw that Thomas had pushed Emma's bodice off her breasts and he was cupping one of her pointed orbs in his hand.
I gave a little involuntary cry and lowered my eyes to my hands as they lay in my lap.
"Oh Constance. Sweet, sweet Constance," Emma murmured, and she moved around to one side of where I was sitting on the picnic cloth and Thomas moved in closer to me on the other side. It was only now that I noticed that Thomas's breeches had been unbuttoned and Emma's hand was just now pulling away from his freed and aroused cock.
Emma turned my face to hers with a delicate hand cupped under my chin, and she gave me a sweet kiss on the lips. I felt a hand at the straps to my summer frock and my bodice being lowered to my waist and a hand--Thomas's hand--was cupping my breast. His thumb and a finger closed on my nipple, and I moaned.
"Oh, Lord Thomas! Lady Emma! I don't think..."
"Hush, hush, my dear," Thomas whispered in my ear. "No need for pretense. I know you and Emma have been lovers. I have known since before I took you myself. We are able to share and share alike, we are."
"Oh," I moaned. Lady Emma was working on the lacings at my back, freeing me of the confines of my dress.
Lord Thomas snapped his fingers and muttered, "Champagne," and a handsome young footman stepped forward with a chilled open bottle of the liquid. As he stood there, smiling down at me, in ready attendance, Thomas's hands were working under my skirts and petticoats, pulling away my undergarments. I nearly swooned as his strong hands cupped my now-bare mound and I felt a finger enter me in search of my secret treasure.
I fell back into Lady Emma's arms in a near faint, as Lord Thomas called for the champagne.
But he did not drink the cool liquid; instead, he tippled the bottle over my chest and let the champagne cascade down on my bare breasts.
And then both Thomas and Emma, one at each breast, were drinking of the champagne off my heaving orbs and nipples. I was shuddering and moaning and, yes, sighing at the lips nibbling at my breasts and at the working of Lord Thomas's meaty finger inside me, which had found the prize it was seeking.
Emma left Thomas to his devices for a moment, which were to raise me up and completely disrobe me and then to pull my back into his chest and bring me down into his lap, positioning my rear channel onto the great rosy bulb of his member. And I cried out and groaned as he slowly descended me on the full link of his mighty cock and impaled me to the quick.