Lydia, home for the summer before university, sprawled languidly across a recliner in her parents' Surrey garden. A paperback copy of Daisy Buchanan's "Insatiable" lay face down on the grass beside her.
Eighteen years old, coltishly pretty with legs a mile long, she wore high cut navy bikini bottoms, and nothing else, the top long since discarded to encourage the most even possible tan. Her pert breasts stood high and proud despite her prone position.
She had gathered her chestnut hair into a messy bun, and her oversized sunglasses covered much of her tanned face.
Her boyfriend Josh lay beside her, wearing a pair of swim shorts. Josh was broad shouldered and tall, with a mop of raffish blonde hair and a body that spoke of early morning rugby training and no little vanity. His chest sported an impressive display of chest hair with a long dark trail pointing the way down to his waist.
At this particular moment in time, Lydia was idly playing with said trail.
"This is nice. I'd like Tuscany more, but this is nice."
"It's particularly nice that your Dad's away."
"Oh don't be mean, Josh. Daddy doesn't hate you as much as you think!"
"I mean, he definitely does. There was that one time he said I had the height for the England second row. But that's as close as he's ever come to being nice to me."
"That's just him. Anyway, Mum likes you. Or she fancies you, which comes to the same thing!"
"Ha ha ha. So funny, you are". Josh leant over and kissed Lydia on the top of her head.
"So sunburnt you are- look how red you're getting". Lydia gently poked Josh's flat stomach just above the line of his shorts.
In return Josh ran a finger across Lydia's bare little breast, enjoying the slightly oily feeling of well-applied suncream. "Some of us didn't spent as much time rubbing lotion on ourself as others."
"I offered to oil you up, but you were very macho about it all."
Josh ran his finger back around Lydia's breast. She giggled. "Are you up to no good?"
"Me? Never."
Lydia looked down, and saw the unmistakable sight of Josh's shorts beginning to form a tent at the front. "Again? I thought I'd worn you out this morning!".
"It's an entirely natural reaction to seeing a pretty girl's tits, as you well know."
Lydia giggled. "What's the entirely natural reaction to a pretty girl giving you a handjob?"
And she slipped her hand down his stomach, under the waistband of his shorts, and through the wiry thatch of hair above his manhood.
"I'm not sure this is the best place, babe."
The garden was sheltered on two sides by high hedges, with a less well-kept fence right at the far end leading to a shallow stream and public footpath. Josh and Lydia's bower towards the bottom of the garden was reasonably sheltered from public view, but overlooked by the kitchen window of the sprawling old farmhouse that Lydia called home.
"Seems pretty good to me," replied Lydia, as her hand grasped Josh's thickening cock. "Now help me out here and get those shorts off".
Without any further protest, Josh lifted his bum enough to wriggle the shorts to his knees.
His freed cock sprang upright, guided by Lydia's slender fingers. She squeezed it firmly as he felt it swell further, the head already a furious purple colour.
Lydia lowered her head, kissed Josh's muscled stomach, then with slow but insistent motions began to masturbate his aching prick.
***
Lydia's mother, Caroline, looked out of the kitchen window, as she absently dried a coffee mug with a worn old tea towel.
Seeing her young daughter sunbathing with her beau took her back to her own summer days- flirting with Italian and French men as she travelled around Europe, giggling barefooted at summer parties, and artlessly sunbathing topless with just the right amount of faux-continental sophistication.
Caroline was nearly fifty, her ash blonde hair still expensively cut and coloured to best set off her fine-boned features. Regular sessions with a personal trainer kept her in reasonable trim, though she was on the verge of losing an ongoing dispute as to the health benefits of expensive chardonnay.
