8 comments/ 27347 views/ 11 favorites French Connections Ch. 01 By: Linda_Lee I wasn't sure what to say when I saw him, or if I should even say anything. It was so obvious though that he was a tourist in the city, lost in the sea of non-English speaking Parisians. It was late afternoon, and I was sitting outside a quiet little bistro, sipping wine, scribbling in my journal and enjoying the cool summer breeze. A casual glance up from my notebook as I took a sip from my glass, and there he was... He was standing several metres away, examining street signs and comparing them against the map he held in his hands. He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping. He was casually dressed in typical 'urban tourist gear' - a simple t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, that served only to advertise just how thoroughly squeezable and tight his ass was! I took a slow deep breath and unconsciously bit my bottom lip as my eyes settled on that perfectly formed ass, which for some strange reason I felt a sudden urge to bite. As my eyes feasted, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to sink my fingers into that fantastic ass of his as that ripped body lay on top of me and what those powerful arms would feel like wrapped around my naked body while he moved deeper and deeper inside me. I bit the corner of my lip harder and felt a tingling sensation in my nipples as I continued to stare at him. I couldn't help but feel more than a little turned on staring at this gorgeous man. I had just been writing a rather racy entry into my journal when I looked up and noticed him. I'd been recalling my first week living in Paris. I had sat and drank wine with Jean-Luc at this very bistro. It was here, sitting at this very table, that I had discovered why they call it a 'French' kiss. He had looked into my eyes, and whispered the most wonderful things to me in French. He had caressed my cheek gently and lovingly with his fingertips, before brushing my lips gently with his. Softly, slowly at first, gently teasing my tongue with his; encouraging my tongue to seek his which it did. I melted into his kiss. That man made kissing into an art form! He sucked and teased my lips with his tongue. He slowly moved his tongue in and out of my mouth; caressing, searching and pumping - giving me a demonstration of what his cock wanted to do to my pussy. My pussy leaked and throbbed from those kisses. He devoured my lips and tongue with searing and scorching kiss after passionate kiss. I was sent to another world, totally aroused and completely at his mercy. I almost felt like I could've cum just from his kisses alone! Later that night, when we made love, I came harder than I had ever cum before. His kisses and his sexy French accent had kept me close to the edge for so long. It was more than just his words and his kisses though, it was him and... and it was me, another me. It's difficult to describe, but he just...I just...I felt different with him. I felt freer somehow. I felt deliciously naughty too, and so very very sexy. I think it was partly the liberation of being in a foreign romantic country, speaking in a foreign tongue too and then being so patiently drawn out of my shell and seduced so expertly. He ignited a fire and a passion within me that I never knew I was capable of feeling. But that was nearly six months ago, and Jean-Luc had moved to Lyon since then to be married to another woman. I missed him, but I missed his kisses more. Sitting here, where we sat and kissed, sipping the same wine we drank...I could almost feel those kisses again. Almost! I was snapped out of my daydream just as the attractive stranger's ass was removed from my view. I blushed as I realised that I had been blatantly staring at the attractive stranger's hypnotically-fantastic ass, which was especially embarrassing because the moment of realisation came just as he turned around and caught me! I quickly averted my gaze back down to my notebook, and took a long sip from my glass to try to hide my schoolgirl blush. I could feel my neck and cheeks redden as I watched him from the corner of my eye move towards me. The jig was up – I was most definitely caught! "Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle." he said with a bad French accent, "eh...Parlez-vous Anglais?" I looked up at him, seeing his face clearly for the first time. He was devastatingly handsome. I especially liked his square masculine jaw and crooked boyish smile. There was an air of mischief and confidence about that crooked grin of his, and that sexy raised eyebrow that was barely visible above his designer sunglasses. His dark brown hair looked just long enough to run my fingers through - and pull! He tilted his head down and looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses, our eyes caught for a split second and I thought I caught a slight glint of amusement in his eyes. Yep, he definitely knew that I was staring at his ass a moment ago! I stared at him, just taking him in. I realised that I still hadn't answered him. "Em, sure ... yes, I... I speak English," I stammered as I sat up straighter and tried to bring myself fully back to reality - my throat suddenly going dry as I tried to speak to him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and his smile grew wider. "Do you need help with something?" I asked, pointing to the crumpled map in his hand and smiling back up at him. He had such a sexy smile. "Yes, yes Ma'am I do!" he blurted out and laughed slightly at his own predicament. "This is my first day in France, I am totally lost, and I don't speak a word of French! Er, may I?" I nodded as he gestured to the empty chair opposite me. He dropped his bag down to the ground, and half- plonked himself down in the seat. He looked like he'd been walking around for hours and was finally relieved to be sitting down. A slight tinge of guilt tugged at my conscience; here was this poor guy, exhausted and totally lost in a foreign city and it was all I could do to keep my brain from imagining what his naked body would feel like pressed up against mine while I gripped his thick hard cock tightly with my throbbing pussy. I took a deep breath, closed my journal quickly and tried to look but not stare at this gorgeous guy sitting across this small but painfully familiar table from me. He offered his hand to me, "I'm Tom, by the way." I smiled and took his hand. I was surprised by how small my hand felt in his, and how firm his grip was. "Jane," was all I could say as I felt my heart racing a little from his touch - and from what my imagination told me this strong masculine hand would feel like firmly cupping and squeezing one of my breasts while his long fingers pinched my hardened nipples. I smiled again and tried to hide another blush, as imagination ran away with itself once again. "Well, Jane, it is a pleasure to meet you" he said, releasing my hand and taking his sunglasses off, his piercing brown eyes meeting my gaze. "I've been wandering around this city for hours hoping to find someone who speaks English, or at the very least a street name or a landmark or something, anything at all really that I could find on my map!" He placed his map and his sunglasses on the table and leaned in towards me, casually looking me over. I almost felt like I could feel his eyes caressing my skin. I was very aware of how hard my nipples had become, and of just how thin my cotton t-shirt was. I smiled back, "Well I'd be glad to help you find your way, if I can. Where are you trying to get to?" "I'm trying to get back to my hotel, La Grande...something, it's on rue de la fontaine." He opened his map and showed me a pen mark on the page, indicating the location of his hotel. I studied his map for a moment, as the waiter came over to our table. Tom clumsily ordered a drink and moved his chair around closer to mine so that we could both look on the map. I could smell his subtle and manly aftershave as he leaned in closer to me. I felt myself become even more aroused at the warmth and the closeness of his body, but I tried to retain my focus on the map. "Okay, there's your hotel and we're all the way over here," I said as I pointed to our location on the map and turned to look at his face. As I turned, I noticed him staring at my cleavage as I leaned over the map. He suddenly shifted his gaze from my cleavage to the map, no doubt hoping that I hadn't noticed him looking at my breasts, or at the very least hoping that I didn't mind it too much. I blushed again and smiled, his face became very serious as he studiously examined the map. Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn't feel too sorry for staring at his ass earlier and thinking such lustful thoughts about him after all – perhaps he was having some similar ideas about me! "Hmmm, that's nowhere near my hotel really is it?" Tom asked, turning to catch my eye again, his face so close to mine now. "Nope, not really. Sorry." I replied sympathetically. "But the good news is," I added quickly, "we're very close to the main metro line here, and it's only a twenty minute ride from here via the metro." He sat up straight, shook his head and put his hands up in the air as if to halt this line of discussion, "Oh no! The metro is what got me into this mess!" he explained with added comedic melodrama "I got totally turned around on that thing, and that's why I'm so lost now! In the end I gave up on it and tried to find my way on foot!" I laughed at his confession, and his assertions that he would not chance the metro again. "Oh, well" he continued "I'm so glad you're finding this so amusing! You're supposed to be helping me, not laughing at me!" The corners of his mouth quivered slightly, revealing the grin that he was trying to stifle as he feigned offense. "Hey, I can do both!" I said, matching his assertive demeanour, "women are great multi-taskers you know." I said in a 'matter-of-fact' way and tried my best to keep serious as I turned my attention back to the map in front of me. "Uh huh, that they are" Tom replied, as he leaned in closer to me, to study the map too - or to pretend to at least. I looked over at him out of the corner of my eye, and found him looking at me the same way. Our eyes met and we both burst out laughing at the same moment. "Actually, I really am sorry for teasing you. I didn't mean to make fun of you. It's just that the exact same thing happened to me the first time I took the metro." We both laughed again, as the waiter brought Tom's wine. "Well I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one that that has happened to! So, how'd you find your way in the end?" I smiled, and blushed a little. "With a little help from a rather cute French guy who took pity on me and eventually helped me find my way back to my hotel." "So this is karma it seems; now you can pass on the good deed by rescuing me." Tom smiled and stared at me so intently that I almost felt like those piercing brown eyes of his were reaching into my mind and reading from within my thoughts the details of that day on the metro – the day I met Jean- Luc, and the passionate days and nights and weeks that followed. I didn't know what to say, I could feel myself blushing again and I noticed a glint of amusement in Tom's eyes yet again. I'm sure it was fairly obvious to him that the cute French guy didn't just escort me back to my hotel, but came inside too (pun intended). I blushed yet again and looked away, nervously biting my lip and turning back to the map as a flash-back of Jean-Luc and I in my hotel room, our naked bodies entwined on the bed, invaded my thoughts. I was vividly remembering the sensation of my bountiful breasts crushed against his chest, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist and the feeling of his thick hard... "Well!" Tom said as he reached for his glass, lifting it to make a toast, "to karma" he said. Tom's voice brought me back to the present, and awoke me from my fantasy. But the effect of my fantasy on my body continued and I was very aware of the dampness forming between my legs and this hot stranger's tight body sitting only inches from mine. I raised my glass to his, "to karma" I said as I moved to 'clink' glasses with him. At the last moment, I pulled my glass away. "Don't look at the glass Tom; look into my eyes... otherwise..." Tom looked at me very confused, but I explained; "Well, it's traditional in France to look into the other person's eyes when you toast. If you don't you are cursed..." I lowered my voice and leaned into him, to add a melodramatic affect to my horror story "with SEVEN YEARS OF BAD SEX!" I remained completely serious, "and if we're toasting to karma, we should be extra careful" I said with a wry smile. Tom stared at me for a moment and laughed and yet again showed off that sexy smile of his. "Well we don't want to risk that now do we?" staring into my eyes again, he repeated "to karma." Our glasses clinked and we sipped, still keeping each other's gaze. We held the gaze for a few moments longer. "So, I take it you've been in France for a while now, if you know about these traditions already?" 'These traditions' I liked the playful way he phrased that. I wasn't sure if he was asking me about French traditions in general or just the ones that pertained to sex? The answer was the same either way. "Uh huh, I moved to Paris about six months ago. I'm a nerdy scientist working on her PhD, sort of on 'loan' from my university in Ireland to a research institute here." I took another sip of wine, embarrassed as usual talking about my nerdy work in a social context but a little relieved to be talking about something other than sex – despite my arousal, this was moving just a little too fast for me. "Ireland! The accent had me puzzled for a while there, but I should've guessed I suppose," he said, nodding and looking appreciatively at my silky auburn hair and delicately pale skin. "Yep, I guess I have the Irish look about me don't I!" I said, still embarrassed. "And with your accent, and the whole 'ma'am' thing when you first sat down, I'm guessing you're either from the USA or Canada? Not that that narrows it down much!" I added quickly and he smiled again. "Yep, you got me. I'm from Virginia, USA. And I'm a 'nerdy' aerospace engineer, not exactly a scientist but close I guess. I was at a conference in Germany last week and decided to take a little vacation here, all by myself for a few days. I've never been to Paris before but always wanted to see what all the fuss was about!" "And on your very first day here, you get lost on the metro!" I shook my head with mock sympathy. "Yes, but on the bright side" he continued "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't" he said staring into my eyes again, lifting his glass to clink mine again, fixing me with his gaze the whole time "...learning about French traditions and all." We clinked glasses and sipped our wine. "So, I take it then that you're enjoying your vacation?" I said, not taking my eyes from his. "It got off to a shaky start but things are looking up." His eyes were burning into mine. I could feel my heart starting to beat a little faster, and I had the sense that his was too. I barely even knew this man, but I knew I wanted him. He would be gone in a few days, and it was now or never. I still couldn't bring myself to just grab him and kiss him, even though I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine. I hadn't been with anyone since Jean-Luc, and I was getting very aroused by this attractive stranger sitting so close to me. Memories of being here with Jean-Luc were still flooding back to me, remembering those kisses, smelling Tom's aftershave, sensing his closeness... it was all getting just a little too much for me. I excused myself and headed to the ladies room. The water felt so cool against my skin. I splashed my face and neck with the cool water and took a few long deep breaths. I appraised my reflection in the mirror of the small bathroom. My cheeks were flushed but not as red as I had imagined them, the rest of my skin had a healthy sun-kissed glow – not an actual tan but not quite as pale as usual. 'You actually look like you have a pulse for a change,' I thought to myself as I pulled the bobbin from my hair and let it fall loosely about my shoulders. I took a brush from my purse and ran it through my dark auburn hair, before pinning it back up again, allowing just a few stray strands to fall about my face to complement my side-fringe. I fiddled with my bra a bit, adjusting my cleavage and straightening my rather low-cut v-neck t-shirt. I nodded approvingly at my chest; with C-cups it's hard not to – not too big, not too small: a bosom to be proud of... so I've been told at least. "Aaargh, there that guy is again, in my head! Damn you Jean-Luc Renard!" I said aloud to my own reflection. "Great! Now I'm talking to myself," I shook my head and exhaled sharply, willing the momentary insanity away. I quickly fixed my skirt and grabbed my lip balm from my purse, smearing some over my lips and trying to clear my mind. I gathered up my things into my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a moment to give myself one last look in the mirror before heading back out to Tom. All in all, it wasn't too bad. Not exactly how I would've chosen to look on a first date, but this was hardly a date. I took a deep breath, stared into my deep blue eyes in the mirror for a long moment and tried to tell myself that this was not a date. This was just a chance encounter, an opportunity to let the past go and get some closure. Not to mention having some fun with a handsome stranger – something I would not normally do, but then today was not a normal day. The sun was starting to set as we left the bistro a couple of hours later. We had talked and flirted and gotten to know a little bit more about each other. I had told Tom that I would walk him to the metro stop. I still wasn't sure yet if I would be brave enough to go through with it and accompany him back to his hotel, or just direct him from the metro station. Despite my flirtations and my longings, I was still a little afraid of letting myself go with someone new. "So, do you live around here?" Tom asked, trying to make conversation. "It's just that the little bistro is a bit off the beaten track, well unless you're a local of course or a lost tourist" he smiled again and I realised that I hadn't really been talking much. My head was swimming with thoughts of Jean-Luc and with the uncertainty that my lust for Tom was more out of a longing for Jean-Luc, for my former French lover. I was so turned on, and so confused at the same time. "Eh, no actually, not really that close. A friend of mine used to live around here, and I was sort of just hanging out here thinking about him." I said awkwardly, refusing to meet Tom's gaze. Tom stopped walking and turned to face me, "By any chance would this be the same 'cute French guy' who rescued you on the metro on your first day in Paris?" I laughed quietly to myself at Tom's insight, "it would indeed" I confessed. "Ah, I see. And he's no longer in the picture I take it?" I looked up at Tom, as he looked deep into my eyes again, almost as if reading my mind yet again. "You would be right again," I nodded, "he's living in Lyon now, with his fiancée...well actually probably his wife by now. He was getting married today." I was stunned that I had just told Tom that, why did I do that? "And you're still in love with him?" It was a very deep and personal question that Tom, this guy that I had met just a few hours previously, had asked me. I should have been furious by the inappropriateness of it, but I wasn't. I already felt like Tom could read the answer from my mind, without me having to say anything either way. I hadn't really talked about the situation with Jean-Luc before with anyone. What was it about this handsome stranger that infiltrated my defences so easily? French Connections Ch. 01 "I never knew he was engaged. He never told me about her. I only found out after, I mean later...they had split up and then a couple of months ago they got back together and that was that." I blurted, looking away from him. His piercing gaze was too intense for me. "I'm sorry Jane. This can't be easy for you. Helping me out, the way he helped you... today of all days." He put his hand on my arm to comfort me, and I did feel comfort from it... and more. He looked genuinely sorry for troubling me like this and I was grateful to him that he let the fact that I hadn't really answered his question go. It wasn't easy for me to be here with him like this, but it was exciting...and confusing all at the same time. I'd gone to the bistro today to drink wine and scribble in my journal and put the whole sorry affair to rest – to let it go! And then Tom came along, with the magical ability to affect me so deeply. "But for what it's worth, I think you're very beautiful and very sweet," he leaned in closer to me, the tone of his voice was soft and soothing "and I think that French guy is an absolute idiot. And I don't just think that because I'm an American and programmed more or less from birth to hate the French," he smiled that crooked smile again as he brushed a stray strand of hair back from my face. I laughed a little at the absurdity of his statement and this whole situation. The feel of his hand in my hair was quite stimulating, the closeness of his face, his lips.....oh how I wanted him to lean in just a little bit more and kiss me tenderly. I wanted Tom. I wanted him to make love to me, to make me forget all about stupid Jean-Luc and his stupid wife! I wanted him to kiss away any confusion I had. I just wanted to get lost in his lips, in his arms...in his bed... I looked into his eyes, my breath becoming short and ragged. I put my hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his face and a slight hint of some masculine stubble forming there. I gently traced the curve of his jaw with my fingertips, brushing my thumb across the swell of his bottom lip (causing him to let out a soft gasp) and down his chin and his neck until my hand was resting on his chest. His heart was pounding powerfully, as was mine. I stood on my tip-toes and he leaned in even closer. Neither of us spoke, to do so might have broken this erotic spell that had enchanted us. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt his lips gently touch mine. My heart was beating even faster. His hand brushed my cheek as he kissed me softly on the lips, gently applying a little more pressure. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I parted my lips and felt him do the same. My lips probed and caressed his gently. My tongue gently searched and touched his, inviting him to kiss me deeper. An invitation he did not hesitate to accept. He wrapped his powerful arms around my small waist, pulling me closer to him as he kissed me back passionately and growled. Our kiss deepened and intensified. I felt the need within me building – it was an emotional as well as a physical need. When our lips finally parted, I was dizzy. The world was spinning around me. I had to hold onto Tom for fear that if I let go I would fall over. "Jane, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Tom asked, with a gentlemanly concern for my well-being that made me want him even more. I wasn't afraid anymore. I was nervous and excited but I was sure of one thing: I wanted Tom. "I don't know if this is the smartest or the stupidest thing I've ever done, probably neither, but I know that I find you very attractive Tom, and I really want you to make love to me." I looked at him with a level gaze, shocked by my wanton lustful confession. He stared back at me for a long moment; he was not expecting such a forward response and, in all honesty, I kind of surprised myself with that one too. Before I could say anything further, his lips were on mine again, passionately kissing me. He held me even tighter to him, my breasts crushed against his chest, our hearts pounding. I could feel the bulge in his jeans grow and I needed to feel that bulge inside me. I needed Tom to help me, to make me forget about that French idiot who had used me and broken my heart. A wave of guilt washed over me again; I was using Tom, was I any better than Jean-Luc? Was this fair to Tom? I felt Tom grab my ass and pull me against him forcefully, the bulge in his pants and the hunger in his kiss were indication enough to me that Tom might be okay with this arrangement, more than okay in fact! "Mmmmmmmmm... unnnnn..." I closed my eyes again and bit my bottom lip to stifle my moan, as Tom kissed the nape of my neck again and squeezed my ass harder. My knees were weak, I held onto him tight. I felt like I was sinking into some exquisite ocean with Tom as my only life-line, so I held onto him for dear life as he brought his lips back to mine and devoured them once again. We stood there kissing and holding each other for several minutes. "We really need to get out of here" he said between kisses, as we both held each other, trying to catch our breath. We were still in the middle of the street, just around the corner from the metro station. By now, the sun had already set and the street was more or less empty. "Twenty minutes to my hotel?" he asked breathlessly. "Uh huh, or ten to my place" I said, arching an eyebrow. "Pardon the cliché but, eh...your place or mine?" We both laughed out loud, all of the earlier awkwardness gone. "Yours," he said quickly as he kissed me again. He then took my hand in his and we walked to the metro station. The train came just as we arrived on the platform, still holding hands. We stood just inside the doors of the train. The air in the train was hot and sticky. I stood with my back against the seating partition, Tom stood in front of me holding the rail above his head. I surveyed his body from this position. He certainly was tall, around 6'5" I would guess, with excellent definition in his arms and torso from what I could tell. I couldn't wait to see his broad chest without that t-shirt! I bit my bottom lip again as my eyes moved down to the bulge in his jeans; I had the sneaking suspicion that Tom was tall all over! I smiled mischievously at the thought and looked up at Tom's face. He winked down at me, as if to offer some confirmation to my suspicions before showing off that crooked sexy smile yet again. He leaned in towards me and kissed my forehead gently. I closed my eyes as I felt him kiss my forehead; such a sweet gesture from such a sexy guy - swoon! "So which stop is ours?" Tom asked looking at the metro map on the wall behind me. "Two more and we're there." I replied. He smiled and nodded, before leaning in close to whisper huskily in my ear: "Good, because I have to confess something to you Jane. I don't know how much longer I can wait. For hours now all I've been thinking about is ripping those clothes off and ravishing that gorgeous body of yours. I've wanted you ever since the moment I caught you staring at my ass outside the bistro." I blushed again remembering how openly I had ogled him. He laughed softly and kissed my ear and my neck and continued whispering "You looked so sexy sitting there blushing, stammering..." his lips brushed my ear again, and he softly kissed my neck just below my ear - which is easily one of my most sensuous spots to be kissed. I felt my eyes roll back into my head and my knees go weak yet again. He continued to kiss my neck, gently nipping at my jaw. My hand went to his cheek again as I tilted my head and pulled him towards me, my lips meeting his for a deeply passionate kiss. I devoured and treasured those lips and that tongue, trapping his bottom lip between mine and nibbling it gently. My tongue waged war on his, capturing his tongue between my lips and suckling it greedily - unable to stifle my moan as I did so. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, feeling my nipples brush against his chest and losing all other sense of where we were in the process. Fortunately the French are far from oppressed when it comes to sex, but even so... "Isn't this where we get off?" Tom said breaking our kiss suddenly and grinning down at me. "Huh? Oh crap, yes it is!" I said, ignoring his bad joke and pulling him off the train before the doors shut. "You know, you're the one whose supposed to be keeping me from getting lost" he said and showed off that cheeky smile of his. I laughed and blushed - yet again! "Well, I got distracted" I said, pulling him closer to me. He leaned in closer to kiss me again, and just before our lips touched... I pulled back away from him "but that's not going to happen again" I laughed, winking at him as I grabbed his hand and led him out of the metro station and eventually towards my apartment. He shook his head playfully as we exited the station. The night air felt cool on my skin. A gentle summer breeze was blowing, making my skin tingle. There was something so freeing, so refreshing about it. I pulled the bobbin out of my hair again and let my hair fall loosely down to be gently caught and caressed by the breeze. The lights of the city at night, the cool breeze on my skin and in my hair and the warmth of Tom's body right beside me...so many wonderful sensations all at once, it was no wonder that my panties felt soaked! "I love the city at night" I said, squeezing Tom's hand as we walked. "There's something almost magical about it. It kind of makes me feel like anything could happen." "I think I know what you mean" Tom said softly, as we turned into a small deserted side-street. He stopped dead in his tracks and pulled me close to him. Before I knew what was happening his lips were on mine, his masculine hands cupping my face, running his fingers through my hair, slowly tracing his fingertips down my graceful neck and shoulders. I stood there, caught totally off-guard, my hands on his waist gripping his shirt. I slid my hands around his waist, and up under his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his body and the softness of his skin. I thought I heard him moan a little as my hands caressed his bare skin. I pushed myself closer against him, pulling him towards me. I ached for the hardness that I felt in his pants. My heart was pounding so loudly it threatened to deafen me. I broke our kiss and struggled for air. Tom continued to kiss and nip my jaw and kiss my neck, his hands caressing my ass and squeezing it roughly. He kissed my neck and my chest and continued down... He kissed and licked my cleavage, each breast in turn and then... I felt his hands quickly slide up my waist under my shirt, lifting it over my breasts as he began kissing and suckling my breasts through the thin fabric of my white lace bra, in the open air for anyone walking by to see. That is, if there was anyone walking by, for the moment we seemed to be alone. Although, as his tongue circled and flicked my right nipple, I'm not sure I would've cared if anyone saw. His lips and tongue expertly teased my hard nipples through my bra, before I felt his hands slide under the wired cups and squeeze my breasts. I hadn't even noticed him undoing my bra, but it was open, and his hands and lips were the only things keeping my breasts from plain view. "Unnnn," his hands... "Mmmmmmm" and those lips, sucking and nipping my breasts, flicking his tongue over one of my nipples, clamping those lips around my nipple and sucking hard, gently pulling on it with his teeth before sucking on it again. All the while, his hand was kneading and caressing my other breast. As he shifted his attention to my other nipple, his other hands slid down over my ass and down my leg to the edge of my skirt, just at my knee. He slid his hand up the back of my thigh, causing me to moan out loud...his teeth pulling my nipple a little harder as I did, generating another moan. He continued to kiss and suck my nipple as he slid his hand up further to the swell of my ass. I looked down at him, unable to speak or move. I ran my fingers through his hair as his teeth clamped down on my nipple again. He gave my ass a gentle squeeze, before hooking his fingers inside my panties and sliding them down my legs. "Tom!" I was shocked and aroused all at the same time. He looked up at me, my nipple still in his mouth and winked at me as he continued to suckle my nipple. He pulled my panties down my legs slowly, until they pooled at my ankles. He slid his hand back up my leg, caressing my inner thigh. He very slowly moved his hand upwards, until his fingertips brushed my moistness. He tenderly stroked my pussy lips with his fingertips, gently pushing them aside and teasing me with his fingers. I moaned out loud and held onto him again, running my fingers through his hair as he continued to devour my breasts and nipples. I was on fire! He released my nipple from his mouth, "I want you Jane. I need you. I have to have you!" his breath was short and ragged and there was an urgency in his voice - an urgency I understood all too well! He squeezed my breasts harder and growled before his lips descended on mine for a searing kiss. He released my breasts, allowing the cool air to caress them for a moment, creating another wave of pleasure. He gripped my ass roughly again with both hands, and pulled me against him forcefully – the coolness of the night air tickling my wet pussy making me feel so exposed and so deliciously naughty at the same time. "We're almost there" I said breathlessly. I fastened my bra and pulled my top down to cover it quickly. I looked around us to see if anyone had seen me being so enjoyably manhandled. Fortunately, we were alone. I motioned to pull my panties back up, but Tom caught my hands... "Ah ah," he said sharply as if scolding a child. I had little choice but to step out of them. Tom picked them up, brought them to his nose and inhaled my scent deeply. It was one of the most erotic displays I had ever seen. I had to get him home – fast! We walked quickly and silently. We arrived at the entrance to my apartment building a few minutes later. My heart was still pounding, and I was slightly out of breath. I punched the code into the panel twice but the door would not open. Tom's hand caressing my ass made it all the more difficult to concentrate on hitting the correct numbers on the keypad. The warmth of his hand through the flimsy material of my summer skirt, and the knowledge that I was totally exposed beneath it, had my blood boiling. "Damn it" I said, taking a deep breath and trying again. "What's the matter Jane, are you a little distracted?" Tom said mockingly as his other hand pulled my hair aside so he could kiss my neck. "I thought you said that wasn't going to happen again" he laughed softly into my neck and continued planting soft kisses there. I laughed softly in resignation at his ability to 'distract' me, and took a deep breath and focused hard on the panel in front of me. I carefully entered the code into the panel for the third time and, mercifully, the door flew open. I propelled myself into the lobby, grabbing Tom's hand and yanking him in behind me. I didn't dare stop to turn around to him, my eyes were focused dead ahead on the elevators. Waiting for the elevator to arrive felt like an eternity. Tom stood close behind me, his arm around my waist, inside my shirt and his fingertip slowly caressing my stomach. He pulled me against him so that I could feel the hard bulge in his jeans grinding against the top of my ass. My pussy was so achingly wet for him that I had to fight the urge to turn around and jump on him. I wanted to wait until we were in my apartment before... Keys! I fished in my purse for the keys to have them ready when we got to my floor. "Good thinking" Tom whispered into my ear as he gently sucked my ear lobe and kissed my neck again. The elevator finally arrived. We stepped quickly inside, maintaining our close contact. I pressed the button for the top floor. The moment I did Tom spun me around and kissed me fiercely. It was all I could do to stay standing. He growled into our kiss as a primal urge took control of his body, and mine. I slid my hand between us, over his abs and down to his jeans. I ran my hand over the bulge and heard him grown as I began kneading and stroking his hard cock through his jeans. His hands slid down to my ass again. After giving it a playful squeeze he slid his hands down further, pulling my skirt up and up until his hands finally had access to my bare thighs. He slid his hands up my thighs until both hands were gripping the cheeks of my naked ass. Slowly, achingly slowly it seemed, he moved one of his hands from my ass to the front of my thigh and inched it closer and closer to my pussy. Finally his fingertips brushed against the wetness between my legs and he began slowly stroking my pussy and my clit again... moving back and forth, painting my lips with my arousal. He kissed me deeply as he made slow circles around my clit with his fingers. He then continued stroking my pussy lips and with each stroke he moved further and further towards my vagina before finally... pushing two of his fingers inside me. I squealed as I felt his fingers inside me, curling up inside me and driving me wild. My hips moved unconsciously against his hand as he fucked his fingers in and out of me. I broke our kiss and moaned out loud. He nipped my jaw and softly kissed that spot just under my ear again as I continued to fuck his hand. I couldn't take another second of it, I needed him inside me and I couldn't wait any longer. I dropped my purse and keys on the floor and hit the emergency stop button on the elevator. Both of my hands were now on the front of his jeans, frantically undoing his belt buckle and pulling his zipper down. I carefully pulled his deliciously hard cock free of his jeans, wrapped both my hands around the thick shaft of his member and stroked him. As it turned out my suspicions were correct, he was tall all over! My eyes fixed Tom's and I saw my own fire and need reflected back at me in those eyes. He pushed his fingers in deeper and brushed his thumb across my clit, causing me to shudder. I cupped the tip of his cock in the palm of my hand and massaged it gently and my other hand stroked the length of his shaft. My hands reluctantly left his cock as he pulled my shirt off over my head, together with my bra which had once more opened seemingly inexplicably. Immediately, he lowered his head to my breasts and devoured them – biting and sucking my nipples until I moaned out load. So there I was: naked from the waist up in the elevator of my apartment building, with my skirt hoicked up around my hips and I was about to be fucked hard by a handsome stranger I didn't even know until a few hours ago. And the best part about it was: I didn't give a damn! I was beyond caring how absurd this situation was. I only knew that my pussy was throbbing and empty and longing for the magnificently hard cock I had in my hands only seconds ago. Tom lifted me up effortlessly and pinned me against the wall of the elevator. His lips locked onto mine as the tip of his cock brushed against my pussy lips. He held me up with one powerful arm around my waist as the other went to his cock. He stroked and teased my pussy and my clit with his cock, coating his member with my juices and pressing against my opening so that just the head of his cock peeked inside, then pulled away. I could feel the power in his arms and his body and the hardness of his thick cock... and I was in utter need for it. He tapped my clit with his cock-head over and over again until I cried out from the exquisite torture he was inflicting upon me. "Please Tom, please..." I begged him to do it. "I need you Tom. I need to feel you inside me, please..." French Connections Ch. 01 He gave me one of his mischievously sexy smiles and slid just the tip of his cock inside me again and held it there. I whimpered with need and tried to move myself down onto it but he held me still. I could tell by the look on his face and in his eyes that it took all his control not to thrust into me. "Tom, please... AAAAGHH!" with one powerful motion he thrust hard into me and released his grip on my waist slightly so that I literally fell onto his cock and impaled myself upon it. I screamed with a mixture of relief, pleasure and surprise. My pussy immediately contracted around him, welcoming him inside me as the relief flooded my body. He felt so thick inside me, and so amazingly hard too as he stroked and stretched me. His thrusts were short and deep, yet slow, at first. But then they became longer and eventually faster too, and then harder... and harder... I shuddered and moaned, and gripped him tightly, my pussy wringing every last bit of pleasure out of each thrust. Our grunts and groans were barely audible over the deafening beat of our hearts and the sound of our flesh smacking and pounding together. My hands ran through his hair as my lips found his and devoured them mercilessly. Moan after moan stifled by his kiss as his pummelled me harder and harder. The unforgiving hard surface behind me was causing my entire body to shake with each thrust as he fucked me harder and faster. I shuddered and trembled all over - an intensity of pleasure and heat was building in my groin and slowly enveloping my entire body. I involuntarily held my breath, physically unable to draw air into my lungs. My pussy clamped down hard on Tom's cock as he buried his thick cock deep inside me, his thrusts now shallow and hard. "Come for me Jane" Tom whispered into my ear before lowering his head to my breasts and suckling my nipple. He thrusts becoming faster and harder still. He pulled my nipple with his teeth and growled as I gripped and clenched his cock as tightly as I was physically able, threw back my head and opened my mouth wide in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure emanated from my pussy and cascaded over me. He kissed and sucked my other nipple as he drove his cock hard into my pussy, keeping it there deep inside me, rotating his hips and stirring me to climax yet again. I bucked and writhed against him, my pussy spasming around him, and frantically sucking air into my lungs as I clamped down on him again and screamed as another wave of orgasm flooded my body. I grabbed his head and held him tight against me as I struggled in vain to catch my breath. "Jane... I have to..." he grunted "...close" breathlessly - and incoherently! His body shook and glistened from his exertions. "Let me down" I softly whispered into his ear. He slowly pulled out of me and released me. My legs were unstable, but I did not need to stand up for what I intended to do. I quickly pushed him against the wall and knelt down in front of him, getting a good look at him for the first time. He was about seven maybe eight inches long and gratifyingly thick. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, now moist from my cum, and began by licking and sucking his kiwi-sized balls. He groaned with pleasure as I sucked on each of them in turn, before licking my way up his shaft. I wanted to take my time to fully enjoy every last inch of him, not to mention to more thoroughly savour the naughty satisfaction of tasting myself on him. But I knew that would have to wait - he could not take that kind of lavish attention right now. He needed release. I gently licked and kissed the tip of his cock, and slowly sucked him into my mouth. His breathing was fast and shallow in between his moans of pleasure. I heard a satisfying grown from him as I sucked him harder and took him deeper into my mouth, my tongue continuing to massage his swollen head. I continued stroking his shaft as I moved him deeper into my mouth and out a little, before sucking him in harder again. "Jane, I... I'm..." he panted. I stroked him faster, and sucked him harder – letting him know that I wanted him to come in my mouth. I felt his hand grip the back of head as he grunted loudly and shot stream after stream of cum into my mouth. I swallowed and sucked hard, as though milking his cock with my mouth; greedy for all his cum. Even after I was sure he had no more to give, I continued 'cleaning' his cock for a couple of minutes more. My pussy was getting juicer by the second as I ministered to his tired cock. "I think someone really wants to get fucked in the elevator again," he teased. "Keep that up, and you'll have me hard again in no time, leaving me with no other option but to grab you and pound that tight pussy of yours again before we've even gotten into your apartment!" I felt my pussy clench suddenly and involuntarily as he said this, as if an invisible jolt of electricity had somehow shot magically from his lips upon the mere suggestion of 'pounding my tight pussy' - and did exactly that! He could tell by my reaction that his words had had the desired effect. "Promises, promises," I said smiling back up at him before giving his scrumptious cock a long and lingering kiss. He helped me to my feet, and kissed me softly but passionately on the lips. "I promise..." he said between kisses "to fuck you...over....and over....and over again, anywhere or anyway you want me to" I moaned, but my moan was smothered by his scorching kisses. I wrapped my arms tighter around him, and not for the first time tonight, lost myself in his kisses. After some time, I have no concept of how long exactly – but I suspect not longer than a few minutes, he whispered breathlessly in my ear: "Should we go hun?" I nodded and reluctantly pulled away from him. I took a few deep breaths to regain some composure as I watched Tom pull his boxers and jeans back up. I couldn't help but notice that his soldier was already partially standing to attention as his did so. I looked around and found my t-shirt and pulled it on. I didn't bother with my bra, I was only going around the corner after all, and was not likely to run into anyone else on the way. I picked up my keys and my purse but Tom had nabbed my bra while I was fixing my skirt and refused to hand it back. He still had my panties in his front jeans pocket, half hanging out for anyone to see and he insisted on dangling my bra out over the back of his jeans "...so that all the world will know I've just fucked you in the elevator" he smirked as I hit the panel on the elevator and it obediently began moving again. I would have protested further to get my bra back but I really didn't see the point, like I said we were only turning the corner. There were only three apartments on each floor and two separate elevators, so I really wasn't expecting to run into anyone waiting in the hallway when the doors finally opened on my floor. If I had been a betting woman, I would've lost a small fortune that night. I exited the elevator first, refusing to hold Tom's hand – still pretending to be mad at him for stealing my underwear, but in reality I knew I could open my apartment door a lot faster with both hands free and ultimately undress Tom those few seconds sooner! Tom grabbed his bag and quickly followed me into the hallway as I switched the lights on and searched for the right key for my door. I turned the corner, not looking where I was going at all, my attention focused on the keys in my hand - I probably would have walked right into him if he hadn't called out my name. "Jane!" I froze! I heard the keys clatter as they hit the floor and felt Tom bump into me from behind, but neither stimulus received a response. I couldn't move. My mind had completely shut down, my breathing had stopped and it seemed like even my heart had a missed a couple of beats. I knew who it was before I even looked up. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath, wishing that when I opened them again and looked up, he would not be there. All the times I imagined and wished for him to return to me, in no scenario could I have possibly imagined that he would do so only moments after I had had incredible sex in an elevator with a hot stranger – a wonderfully charming and incredibly sweet 'hot stranger', who still had my underwear dangling out of his jeans! "Jane, ma Cherie" I opened my eyes upon hearing the familiar voice again. He was still wearing his wedding suit, which now looked crumpled and dishevelled, and he was missing his tie. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was blotchy. He looked as though he'd been crying for hours and had finally run out of tears. I had come to know that feeling all too well for a time, thanks to him. And here he sat on my doorstep. "Jean-Luc" I said with a sad sigh. French Connections Ch. 02 It was the most delicate of feather-like touches tracing the curve of my naked hip and upper thigh that stirred me gently from my slumber. The first of his soft angel-kisses, which he so delicately placed up along my back, caused my breath to catch in my throat. His touch was so gentle and so patiently erotic that I wasn't quite sure yet if I was awake or still dreaming. As he slowly pulled my hair back from my face and kissed my neck, I really didn't care which it was - all I knew was, if this was a dream, it was one I was certain I did not want to wake up from. I was lying on my side, facing away from him as he mapped my curves so tenderly with his fingertips. I could feel the dampness intensifying between my legs, and unconsciously I spread them a little allowing him better access. It was the only movement I made at first. He stroked my inner thigh softly causing my pussy to moisten in anticipation of his touch, as he teased my inner thighs with his fingertips. I could feel the heat of his body so close to mine and so I instinctively pressed my ass back against his as my body responded to his touch. I could feel his hardening cock against my ass and I grinded against him more deliberately. His warm breath felt softly insistent at my neck as he nibbled my ear... his skilful fingers finally contacted my aching sex. "Mmmnnn," I moaned softly. The sound invaded the peaceful night, stirring my senses to a slightly more wakeful state. He stroked my lips, lubricating his fingers with my abundant juices in the process, before slowly circling my clit with his fingertips - sending tingles up my spine and down my legs as the longing in my groin intensified. My breathing became faster and shallower. I was still somewhere between awake and asleep when he dipped a finger inside of my waiting pussy. I moaned louder this time and writhed against his hand as he eased a second finger inside me. I turned my head to catch his lips with mine, in a deeply passionate kiss. I could feel his now quite hard cock pressing against my ass as he stroked his fingers in and out of me. I pumped my hips between his hand and his hard penis as he rocked and stroked his fingers inside me. I was always amazed by how well this man could kiss! Even as his skilled fingers stimulated my pussy and his hard cock pressed against my ass, it was actually his kisses that triggered the most intense wave of shivers down my spine and I began to tremble in his arms. I reached my hand up to hold his head against mine, as his lips devoured mine. He lifted my leg gently and adjusted his position slightly on the bed. I felt his cock move against my ass and graze my pussy. I shuddered as I felt it. His kissed me even more passionately than before and slowly began pumping his hips, allowing his cock to stroke my pussy. There is just something so electrifying about the sensation of a deliciously hard cock teasing some very moist pussy lips and a sensitized clitoris: I moaned, but my moan was consumed by his masterful kiss. I trembled and writhed against him. As he kissed me, he began slowly pumping his tongue in and out of my mouth -- he was the only guy I kissed who had ever done that, I began to think of it as a trademark of his. Whenever he kissed me like this, there was only one thing I could think of: his cock in my pussy! I reached down between my legs, and massaged his throbbing cock against my equally throbbing pussy as he slowly pumped his hips. A soft moan escaped my lips as his swollen head impacted my clitoris, and I ground myself harder against him. He bit my lower lip and growled as I finally guided him to my entrance. My pussy ached to feel him inside of me. "I need you" I whispered huskily between his exquisite kisses. "Je sais, j'ai besoin de toi aussi" he whispered back. The effect of hearing that he knew my need for him, and that he needed me too, was amplified by his sexy French accent and his sexy French words. His lips treasured mine passionately again before he pushed his hips forwards and slid inside me... "Unnnn" I gasped and moaned against his lips, my pussy instinctively gripping him as he stretched and filled me. I pushed back into him, to meet his thrusts as he slowly pumped his hips against mine. He scooped his arm beneath my leg, and cradled my thigh within the crook of his elbow as his thrusts became deeper. I moved faster against him, urging him on. I trembled again as he fulfilled my silent requests and moved faster and harder inside me. My eyes fluttered closed and my body shuddered as I gripped him even tighter inside of me. "Look at me," his breathless voice whispered to me from somewhere far away. I forced my eyes to open and look at him, but found it very hard to focus. I whimpered and shuddered as he fucked me and fought hard to hold his gaze as he moved so exquisitely inside me. "Je t'aime, Jane... fuuuck," he struggled to retain his control as he thrusted even harder into me. My pussy clamping down around his cock, in preparation for my impending orgasm, "Je t'aime" he repeated. Such beautiful words, spoken at a beautiful time... when we were as close as we could be; 'Je t'aime' ... 'I love you.' "I love you too, Jean-Luc" I replied, holding his gaze. I held the back of his head gently and pulled him towards me to feast upon his lips. I hungrily and passionately devoured his lips and tongue. I wanted him, all of him. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could be. For the first time in my life, I was in love with a wonderful man who loved me back. It was one of the happiest and most memorable moments in my life. He pulled out of me and broke our kiss for the briefest of moments, but a relative eternity nonetheless, as he shifted his position on me. He lay on top of me, covering me with his body, and thrusted back inside me again. He lips and tongue attacked mine with an intensity and ferocity that until then I had not thought Jean-Luc capable of. He was a considerate and passionate lover but there was something almost feral in the way he ravaged my body -- and I was loving every second of it! I wrapped my arms and legs around his, as I responded to his fire with my own. He moved faster inside me, and harder... I had to break our kiss to steal a breath as he pounded my pussy harder and then harder still. "Ohhhh... FUCK!" I shouted, after a particularly hard thrust. I arched my back and threw my head back into the pillow. Jean-Luc nipped my jaw and my neck, finding a certain sensitive spot on my neck just below my ear and kissing it roughly. My arms left him as I reached for the carved wooden rungs in the headboard, gripping them so tight my knuckles went white and my hands actually hurt. I fucked my hips up into him as hard as I could as I struggled for breath and release. His thrusts were short and deep, and hard... "Oh god .... OH GOD!" the words escaped my lips as my pussy held him even tighter as my whole body tensed beneath his. My back arched. My breathing temporarily halted. My mouth opened in a silent scream. I felt my pussy clench even tighter, like an exquisite vice around his hardness... and then... a stillness... followed by a tremble... and then a shudder... emanating from between my legs and spreading out over my whole body until my whole body shook as I came. Jean-Luc thrusted almost frantically into my pussy and let out a low deep groan just as I felt the first of his spurts shoot deep inside of my quivering body. He rolled his hips as I tried to keep hold of his cock, as my now very sensitive pussy spasmed around him, as he finished coming inside me. He collapsed beside me on the bed a moment later, both of us panting heavily trying to catch our breaths. Our eyes met, and we held each other's gaze. Words cannot describe how amazing I felt at that moment -- between the powerful orgasm I had just had and hearing that the man I loved tell me he loved me too... well, like I said, words can't describe that feeling; it was sheer and utter bliss! "Je t'aime, Jane," he said as his eyes locked onto mine. I grinned widely and replied without hesitation, "I love you too, Jean-Luc." We stared into each other's misty eyes for a few moments. He brushed my hair back from my face and softly caressed my cheek. He kissed me slowly, but passionately, gently pulling me towards him in a warm and loving embrace. I loved being this close to him, feeling this connected to him. I loved the way he touched me too. It was always so focused, so delicate... a cautious exploration of my body. He was generally very thorough in his attentions, and explored my whole body -- from head to toe and everywhere in between. He sought to explore and know every part of me; beyond the standard boobs, ass and pussy that are all most guys are interested in. There was never anything 'wham, bam, thank you Ma'am' about the way he made love. He always made me feel beautiful, and precious and so special and loved. He told me once, just after we made love while we were still staring into each other's eyes basking in the afterglow, that my eyes weren't simply blue, they were 'plus speciale' (more special) in his opinion... "une melange de blue, vert et gris. Tres unique et magnificent!" (a mixture of blue, green and grey. Very unique and magnificent!) Okay, so maybe he was just full of shit... just another silver tongued devilishly handsome heartbreaker -- but when I was with him, I didn't care! And I truly believed him when he said he loved me. He made me feel treasured and worshiped, and happier that I can ever remember feeling. And I did everything I could to make him feel the same way. I was loving, patient, attentive and from time to time even a little adventurous too -- and for all his tenderness when he made love, there was a hidden passionate beast sleeping within him that when awoken was a force to be reckoned with! When Jean-Luc fucked, he really fucked hard and showed no mercy... but then, neither did I. We were so perfect for each other, in so many ways. He was the love of my life and I felt like the luckiest woman in this whole entire universe to have a love like this. How was I to know then how things would work out? Isn't it amazing how quickly life can change? That was the first time Jean-Luc and I had ever said 'I love you' and while it wasn't the last, it would only be another two blissful but all-too-brief months later that I would be cursing his name and doing all I could to get as far away from him as possible. That was the weekend we spent at the cottage... ***** Jean-Luc's family had a small cottage about two hours drive east of Paris, in the Champagne region not too far outside of the city of Reims. It was an old cottage, nothing terribly fancy - in fact, if I'm being brutally honest, the cottage definitely could've used a bit of work! In fact, two out of the three bedrooms were in the process of being refurbished. But even so, I thought the cottage seemed enchanting nonetheless. From the photos I had seen of it, it reminded me of the cottage from a fairytale book I read as a child and I half-expected seven dwarfs with mining equipment to march out of the front door singing "hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go..." It was a truly charming cottage and it had so much history to it. Well, nothing you would be likely to read about in a school text-book or anything like that, but it had a lot of meaning for Jean-Luc and I loved hearing all the stories he told me about coming here as a child -- the summers and the occasional Christmas spent here with his family. I could almost picture him as a mischievous little brat, running around and getting up to no good with his older brother to the torment of his mother and father. Our 'romantic' weekend to the 'fairytale' cottage got off to a bit of a shaky start though. Jean-Luc drove us there late one Thursday evening. We had both managed to take the Friday off work and the Monday was a national holiday anyway, so we had FOUR nights and FOUR days hidden away from the world together... just the two of us! However, what should've been a two hour drive at most, turned into a four hour nightmare when his car broke down about thirty minutes from the cottage. We had to wait several hours in the car for the tow-truck to arrive. The tow-truck driver fortunately was sympathetic to the plight of two young lovers escaping for a dirty weekend in the country and not only towed the car to a garage for us, but also gave us a lift to the cottage on his way. While the car breaking down was hardly a catastrophe, it did mean that we would be more or less stranded in this beautiful cottage all weekend alone together... hmmm, whatever would we do to pass the time? After we got settled, unpacked the car, put the groceries we had taken with us away and said goodnight to our new best friend Gaston (the tow-truck driver); we kissed, and we held each other... and we made love... and we made love again... and again and again... and after about two days, we finally untangled ourselves from each other and decided to take a bike trip into Reims for the day. We had a lovely morning being tourists in Reims. We visited the old cathedral and did some wine-tasting, well actually it was champagne tasting (it is what the region of Champagne is famous for after all). And actually, it wasn't so much 'tasting' as it was 'drinking'. What can I say? There's just something so vulgar and disgusting about spitting good champagne into a communal bucket, even a gold-plated one! I guess I'm just not 'French' enough to spit into the gold bucket, and besides swallowing is just so much more fun than spitting (and that comment doesn't refer exclusively to Champagne either!). Also, it's not like either of us were driving, not anytime soon anyway! While in Reims, Jean-Luc called the garage who told him that due to the holiday it would be at least afternoon on Tuesday before his car would be ready. We would be forced to spend another night together on vacation... what a tragedy! After consuming a few glasses of champagne, and enjoying a delicious lunch, we parted company for an hour or so. Jean-Luc had a couple of 'mysterious' errands to run -- ones he didn't want to tell me about anyway. I thought it was a little peculiar that he didn't want to tell me where he was going, but I didn't press the issue. We all need a little privacy and space from time to time, after all. I had spotted some tacky souvenir shops that I wanted to visit anyway, which I know Jean-Luc would've hated so it was the perfect opportunity for me to go browse the novelty cork-screws and mugs and buy something silly and slightly overpriced. In the end, despite all the shiny trinkets on offer, all I bought was a cute metallic key-ring in the shape of a Champagne bottle. There was nothing particularly special about it, and perhaps it was a little bit tacky but I liked it nonetheless. I knew that it would always remind me of my trip here whenever I looked at it. As soon as I got outside the shop, I took my keys out of my pocket and put my new key ring on the bunch - pinching my finger in the process and dropping my keys. "Fuck!" I flinched and instinctively sucked the side of my finger where I had pinched. "Damn rings!" I exclaimed, before smiling apologetically at the elderly Japanese couple browsing in the souvenir shop window for my colourful outburst. They threw me a dirty look, before turning their attention back to the shop-window. "Fine, be like that then" I said under my breath and shrugged, before picking up my keys and leisurely starting to stroll back to meet Jean-Luc. I passed by a jewellery shop on my way back and decided to do a little bit of window shopping of my own. Now, I'm not usually the kind of girl who is easily distracted by shiny things but there really were some fabulous necklaces on display in the jewellery shop window and my sister's birthday was coming up... so basically, I had both motive and opportunity to shop (otherwise known as a good excuse and a few minutes to spare!) Even though there was probably nothing I could easily afford for her here, I decided to have a wander inside anyway and browse a bit more. I was just about to enter the shop when I glanced up and spotted a familiar face through the window. Jean-Luc was in there, talking with the pretty assistant behind the counter. He examined the contents of a little black box she handed him. I couldn't see what was inside it. Whatever it was, he seemed very pleased with it. He nodded appreciatively and handed it back to her but then he suddenly seemed to change his mind and quickly pointed at something else under the glass counter, almost as an afterthought. He looked at his watch, and got kind of flustered and tried to hurry the assistant up. I checked my watch, and it was no wonder he was getting flustered, he was supposed to have met me in front of the cathedral a couple of minutes ago. I didn't want him to know that I was 'accidentally' spying on him, or that I had lost track of the time as well and was also late, so I immediately left and headed to our meeting point. I didn't see what he bought in the end, but whatever it was he was buying in there, it was obviously something I was not supposed to know about. The only reason I could think of for this was that he wanted to buy me something as a surprise. I mean, why else would he not tell me where he was going? If it was a gift for his mother or his sister, surely my opinion would be valued enough to ask me to accompany him or at the very least it would hardly be something he would want to hide from me? No, the only thing that made sense was that he was trying to surprise me. I would just have to be as patient as possible and wait for my surprise, whatever it may be... As I waited outside the Cathedral for him, I couldn't help but imagine what he might have bought me in the jewellery store. I was getting kind of excited thinking about it. Was it a necklace, some earrings or... No, surely not! Not after only three months? Although, we were deeply in love... and we told each other so all the time. We spent as much time as possible together, even though lately that wasn't an awful lot. He was under pressure at work and I had my own deadlines at the Institute to concern myself with recently. That's why this weekend was so special, and was such a lovely idea of his to get away by ourselves for a few days. Three and a bit months is hardly enough time though to get to know each other enough to even begin to consider marriage! Suddenly I felt my stomach knot and I started feeling dizzy. I really was hoping it was not an engagement ring. The idea was exciting and wonderful in one sense, but terrifying in another. It was just too soon. It wasn't a ring. I kept telling myself that I was being silly, it wasn't a ring... he did not just buy me a ring! And besides, I didn't even know for sure that he did buy me anything at all! My head was swimming, so I sat on the step of the cathedral and took a few deep breaths. The champagne from earlier may have been getting to me, or it could've been the sudden realisation that I was waiting outside a cathedral for a man who may or may not have just bought an engagement ring for me. Even though I was sitting in a wide open space, all of sudden I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic... "Jane, Cherie, are you okay?" I hadn't seen him approach, but there he was... standing over me and looking concerned. "I'm fine, just a little dizzy." I said meekly, looking up at him and trying my best not to appear nervous or guilty (I did technically spy on him after all). "Here, take some water." Jean-Luc commanded as he sat down next to me and handed me a bottle of water from his backpack. He put his arm around me and a shiver ran down my spine. Not the good kind of occasional pre-orgasm shiver, it was more the 'spider-senses-tingling' sort of 'someone just walked over my grave' type of shiver. It was weird, I can't explain it. At the time, I just dismissed it as a side-effect of my little dizzy spell and the situation at the time. A few weeks later however, with the help of Oprah (courtesy of internet-TV and my upcoming depression), I would identify it for it was really was -- a warning. I felt that something wasn't right, but I just ignored it and put it down to my own overactive imagination, too much champagne and not enough water. But seriously, how could I have known then what would fall out of his backpack later on that night or what exactly he would eventually confess to after I found it!? French Connections Ch. 02 This story is based on lesbian seduction, reluctance, coercion and blackmail. It is fantasy, for the enjoyment of people who like me take pleasure in such themes. But if this type of storyline is not for you, thank you for stopping by but please pass on. * ADRIANNA RETURNS HOME "Welcome back, Mrs. DuPont." Madeleine turned towards me as I entered the house. Her sultry French gaze sent my pulse racing. I'd thought of her on a number of occasions during my Dubai visit. The fashion show for the Kyoto Corporation had required a great deal of hard work but the rare moments of free time had given me the opportunity to re-evaluate my life and everything that had occurred since I'd married Pierre. It was less than a month since Pierre had taken me to his Deauville mansion—our new home—as his new bride. I'd been on top of the world then, but what young woman wouldn't be turned on by living in an expensive a French mansion? Even for someone like me, arguably just a small step away from Supermodel status, it was the most romantic home I could ever have imagined. It was that second morning—the one after Pierre and I had fucked in our four-poster bed—that my life had started to turn upside down. I'd wandered out onto the balcony and surreptitiously watched his daughter as she'd gone down on her black teenage friend Sherrilyn beside their outdoor swimming pool. I'd subsequently allowed Sherrilyn to draw me into her games and had discovered a craving for black pussy that had lain dormant for so long. And I'd let Françoise take compromising photographs while I'd lain between Sherrilyn's thighs that would ruin both my career and my marriage should they be made public. The pièce de résistance was the way I'd given in to the blackmail threat and allowed Madeleine, my husband's full figured black housekeeper, to use me whenever she'd wanted. When Pierre was in the house, she was the perfect housekeeper. There wasn't even the hint of eye contact. Nothing seemed out of place. When he wasn't at home, she'd change from calling me 'Mrs. DuPont' to 'Adrianna'. She'd lead me to her room and I'd follow, pulse racing. The only saving grace was that the curly haired Sherrilyn hadn't—yet?—instructed me to visit her at her college. She had told me that she wanted me to 'meet' her Black Sorority friends. I shivered at the thought of what would be expected of me. I wasn't an innocent by any stretch of the imagination and although I'd never 'participated' with the other girls in my career as an international model, I'd been tempted on various occasions. It was ironic that I'd denied all my natural instincts for so long... and yet so quickly submitted to the advances of an eighteen year-old black girl during the week following my wedding. "Thank you Madeleine," I nervously answered, as she closed the door behind me. She took the two travelling cases from me and placed them at the foot of the stairs. I couldn't help but admire her ass as she bent forward but made sure my gaze was fixed elsewhere when she turned towards me. "Your husband is upstairs in the study," she quietly said. That look was in her eyes. "Ah... yes... good. I've been looking forward to catching up with him." "He's involved in a conference call, Mrs. DuPont. I believe it's scheduled to last for another thirty minutes." As if to reinforce her meaning, her gaze slowly ran across my body. The strong spicy aroma of her perfume brought back feelings that I was trying to deny. I'd convinced myself in Dubai that things were going to be different when I returned home. The reality was that I had no choice. Not if I wanted to keep my marriage and career. But when she turned away and walked along the corridor towards the servant's quarters, I found myself instantly walking along behind her. "Lock the door behind you," she instructed me as I followed her into her bedroom. The words were unnecessary. The practice was well versed. What was different was that we'd never previously risked an encounter when Pierre was in the house. What if his conference call finished earlier than planned? Madeleine must be feeling the need to make such a move and despite myself that thought transmitted itself to my sex. I pushed the door closed and reached behind me to click the small lock. I'd done it so many times I could find it in my sleep. "Welcome back, Adrianna." She began to unbutton her uniform as she spoke. I knew exactly what to expect and my heart began to pump as my anticipation heightened. She was naked underneath, save for the black strappy attached to her waist. I licked my lips. "Well?" she asked, taking the long phallus in one hand and stroking her fingers along the black shaft. Her arched eyebrows told me she was waiting. I nervously stared at the black phallus as I unzipped my dress. I was so wet that I wouldn't need any help to take it inside. With a shimmy, the dress fell to my ankles. My right bra strap fell from my shoulder and I momentarily left it there while I thrust my breasts towards Madeleine. The glint of my diamond belly button stud shot across the room. "For a respectable married woman you can be such a tease, did you know that..." The words filled me with shame. Her eyes swept approvingly across my body, taking in my cleavage as it spilt over the black bra and then dropping to the delicious skimpiness of my plunging black thong. I'd worn them specifically with Madeleine in mind. Had I expected this? "Now the rest..." I unhooked the front fastener, allowing my full breasts to bounce free. When she licked her lips, my nipples hardened. I eased my thumbs into the waistband of the thong, loving the way her gaze followed each movement. I pulled them over the gentle curve of my hips and down over my thighs. "You can choose the position," she murmured, spitting on her hand and rubbing the saliva along the black phallus. "We don't have long, do we?" * I lay back on the bed, grunting incoherently as Madeleine thrust the thick phallus inside me. God, I'd so missed this. As much as I preferred doggie style, the missionary position allowed me to savour her large black breasts as she fucked me. They bounced with each pump of her full hips and I reached upwards to cup them in my hands as my head fell back onto the pillow. "That's it, Adrianna," she grunted. "Play with Maddy's boobies..." She was the most inventive lover I had ever experienced. She was never still—leaning forward to lick around my neck, sitting up so that her large breasts swayed erotically, and then leaning back and thrusting harder. Each shift in position brought a different angle and with it a different friction. I had climaxed twice already and the sensations in my body confirmed that a third wasn't too far away. We were overrunning, I knew that. If Pierre discovered that I'd returned home he would come looking for me. And my bags were beside the front door. But Madeleine's desire for me was infectious. She thrust even harder and I began to whimper again. She bent down so that I could lap at the sweat glistening on her face. When I obeyed, she rewarded me with a series of machine-gun like thrusts. I wrapped my legs around her black back, urging her on. Her rhythm was so perfect I felt like screaming with joy. "Another one, Adrianna?" she growled in my ear. "One more for Madeleine..." I thrust my hips upwards to meet her hard strokes. When she began to lick my neck again the orgasm released itself. As the full force unleashed itself Madeleine covered my mouth with her hand as I began to wail. DINNER WITH PIERRE I sat at the dinner table, frustrated by the need still resonating inside my body. Within half an hour of leaving Madeleine's bedroom I had practically thrown Pierre on our bed and stripped him naked. I'd used my oral skills to make him cum before he could fuck me—I was still sore from Maddy—but when dinner was over I would fuck him silly. While I was in the relative safety of Dubai, I had realised that he was the one constant in my life. I was secure with Pierre beside me. He reconfirmed that it was men that interested me, not women—whatever their colour. How wrong I'd been. Madeleine had led me like a lamb to the slaughter and I'd obediently followed. If I was truthful with myself, I would probably have submitted without the blackmail threat. I was captivated by black women. "More coffee, Mrs. DuPont?" I glanced up at her as she stood between Pierre and I. Her face was impassive. "Thank you Madeleine." She filled Pierre's cup after mine and then left the room. I shivered as I watched her go. Her ass swung from side to side in that way that only a black woman can. That always got to me and she knew it. "So," Pierre said, continuing our conversation. "It's really true?" I placed my hand on his. He always delighted in my success. "It is, darling. The corporation want to use Tina, Roxanne and I as the faces of their marketing campaign. That will mean another trip to Dubai and a tour of Japan." "It's wonderful, darling, really wonderful. I've always said you're the best of all the models and this proves it." I smiled at his enthusiasm. Tina Baxter and Roxanne Gold had been in the Supermodel bracket for a couple of years. My coup was being chosen to help front the campaign ahead of several other Supermodels. I was in the big-time now. "Try and time the trips with my Geneva visits," he quipped. His political career required frequent visits to the Swiss city and it was proving more and more difficult to combine our respective work commitments. "Oh, absolutely," I laughed. "I've already told them I can only do shows when it fits in with your absences. They're fine with that." He laughed with me, but his next sentence gripped my insides. "Françoise sends her love by the way." I kept the smile on my face. "Yes? That's nice. When did you speak to her?" "Last night. We had a long chat. What's this about you going down to visit her this weekend, by the way? You didn't mention that." He glanced at me as I gave a sudden intake of breath. "This weekend?" "Yes. She said you were staying for a couple of nights. She's going to call you tomorrow to finalise details." It seemed inconceivable that he couldn't hear the beating of my heart. The sound seemed to fill the room, as well as my head. Thoughts of what would be expected of me began to fill my brain but even as a shiver of anticipation ran across the whole of my body, I knew I couldn't go through with this. "I... I... I'm not sure I can go, Pierre. It wouldn't be fair on you, with me already having been away for the best part of a week..." He laughed out loud. "Françoise thought you might be too busy but I told her not to worry. And anyway, she said not to forget about the photographs." My blood ran cold. "Photographs?" "That's what I asked. She said she had some from one of your more successful shoots and that you wanted them back. She said if you really couldn't join them, she could always post them to us. Which are they?" Post them to us? The message was clear. "I'd forgotten," I simply said. "Look, I'll check things out tomorrow after I talk to Françoise. You don't mind me going?" "Not at all. On one condition that is..." I glanced at him, searching his eyes for any hint that suggested Françoise had told him more. But they simple shone back at me in that endearing way of his. He really was a darling. "That we go upstairs now," he said with that knowing grin. "You've been away too long and I have a feeling this is going to be a long night." * Pierre was right. It had been a long night. And still I needed more. It was as if I needed to reaffirm my love for him. To confirm to myself it was my husband I wanted, not Madeleine, Sherrilyn, or any of her friends. And yet throughout our lovemaking I couldn't rid myself of the sinful thoughts of what was awaiting me at the weekend. I threw my head back and looked at the Pierre as he thrust inside me, trying to focus on the here and now. He was panting hard and sweat was dripping from his forehead onto my breasts. I reached up to clasp my hands behind his neck and ran my fingers softly through his salt and peppery hair. He was deep inside me, but not as deep as Madeleine had been. I closed my eyes at that wicked thought and wrapped my feet around his back. When I dug my heels into the top of his ass, he sank a little deeper. "That's it baby, that's it. Fuck me, Pierre..." More sweat dropped from his forehead as he burrowed his head down against my shoulder. From the way he was grunting, I knew he wasn't going to last much longer. That wasn't good enough. I needed his cock inside me to chase all other thoughts away. "Want me on top, Pierre," I gasped, as I pushed back the strand of dark hair from across my left eye. I slipped out from under his sweat-coated body even before he could grunt out a reply. My dangling belly piercing caught the dim light as I crawled from under him and across his body and breasts danced as I settled myself. Yet even as I took his thick girth in my hand and prepared to slide it home, another of those depraved thought came into my mind. Reacting to my instinct, I jerked my body upwards. My silky wetness made a damp trail across his stomach and chest before I settled my thighs either side of his face, and then clamped them around his head. When stretched his neck upwards and ran his tongue across her clean-shaven sex, I gave a moan and ground my clit down onto his lips. Close your eyes, I told myself. Close your eyes and think of your husband. Not anyone else. The instruction worked. I could feel my muscles flex as I rode his face and Pierre's arms curled under my thighs, groping at the taut swell of my hard ass to hold me steady. "Like that," I encouraged, with a hissed grunt. "Just like that..." I leant backwards, resting one arm on the bed as the other circled his erection behind me. He was still hard in my hand and I jerked him in time with my undulations. Suddenly, an image of Sherrilyn came into my mind—naked, with my face between her thighs—and from nowhere an orgasm sprinted through my body, my sex drowning his mouth and nostrils in liquid. Fuck! Where did that come from? I didn't wait for my body to recover. My needs had suddenly changed and I wanted his orgasm, too. I swiftly moved back down his body, pressing my hard nipples into his sweaty chest. "Come on, Pierre," I whispered, jerking down on his hardness. "It's time." My rapid thrusts—pumping downwards like a machine—were too much for him. I saw his face contort a split second before I felt his thick seed splashing my insides. THE WEEKEND "Not exactly what you're used to," Françoise said. "But it's actually a little larger than the rooms the students have here." She had met me from the train and had immediately begun chattering away about this and that, but without making any reference to the reason I had been asked—instructed—to go to see them. She had acted so naturally that it would have been easy to think this was just a normal visit between step-mother and step-daughter. But it wasn't... "It's fine," I said, staring around the room. She had taken me to the guest accommodation in the heart of the College. Dusk was falling, casting a dull glow on the vast expanse of golden sand I could see out of the window. Maybe I could explore it in the morning? A girl's College on the edge of a beach seemed like the perfect location to me. "No-one else is staying this weekend," she told me. For the first time since she had met me at the station, her expression changed. Was that a sly smile across her face? "So you don't need to worry about being disturbed by anyone unexpected. Sherrilyn planned it that way." For a brief moment I felt like challenging her. That would have wiped that knowing expression off her face. Or would it? Each time I met my step-daughter, I had learnt something new about her. It only emphasised that I didn't really know her at all. Would Sherrilyn really make public the photographs of me going down on her? Even though I wasn't sure she would carry through on that threat, I couldn't afford to take any chances. My marriage and my career were at stake. At that point the door opened and Sherrilyn entered. The timing was such that it made me wonder if she had been outside the door all this time, listening to our conversation. But rational thought wasn't easy with Sherrilyn around. With that curly black hair and teenage smile she looked the picture of innocence. She was anything but. Those penetrating black eyes were already scanning my expression, seeking out clues, sending subliminal messages. She wore a yellow t-shirt and a short black skirt. The t-shirt was tight enough to show she wasn't wearing her bra. Images of the first time I'd seen her crossed my mind. Those naked black breasts—surmounted on their crests with chocolate, almost perfectly circular nipples—defied gravity as they had thrust proudly from her young body. Her nipples were erect right now, seeking out my attention as they pushed through the thin material of her yellow top. "Welcome," she simply said. "You'll have told yourself that you had no choice other than to come but you and I both know different, Adrianna. We both know why you're here, don't we?" So there it was. No niceties. She was calling my bluff, establishing the ground rules, making sure I knew my place. This was her territory... "As soon as they heard who you were," she continued, "All the girls wanted to meet you. When I showed them the photographs, they were practically drooling. But six girls in one weekend ... and black girls can be so demanding..." She let the statement hang there, allowed the images to form in my mind, seep into my sex. My nipples rose at the thought. "So I had an even better idea, just to make sure we all get full value. But for now, Adrianna, the need is written all over your face. I can see we need to release some of that sexual tension deep inside..." I found I was breathing quickly. I had only just arrived. Did she really mean? She swung around to face my step-daughter. Françoise had stayed quietly by the door, listening to the exchange. "Adrianna needs to show me how much she's missed me," she calmly said. "Why don't you wait in your room and I'll give you a treat later." * Sherrilyn grinned down at me as I licked eagerly across her prominent mound. She looked like chocolate. She tasted like honey. As soon as Françoise had left the room, she had casually placed herself in the chair by the window. She dragged her yellow t-shirt up above her stunning breasts and pulled her short skirt up to her waist. The message was clear Just as she'd known, when she discarded her thong and hooked a leg over each arm of the chair, I couldn't resist. I had sunk to my knees without a word and buried my face between her thighs. "So beautiful, so needy," I heard her murmur. I had to force myself to hold back, such was the intense arousal pumping through my veins. As I lapped my tongue along the full length of her sex, she reached down to move a few strands of hair from over my face. My eyes rose upwards to find her smiling down at me. "That's it," she encouraged me. "Keep looking at me with those eyes while you suck me, Adrianna. I want to see that beautiful face." She raised both hands onto the top of her head as she spoke and comfortably pushed her body back into the chair. Spread-eagled like that—eyes narrowed, breasts displayed, nipples hard, legs wide, pussy glistening—she embodied everything I loved about sex. My gaze stayed fixed on hers as I dipped my head back to her waiting treasure and ran my tongue across every inch of that smooth sex. French Connections Ch. 02 I felt a heady mixture of shame and exhilaration. Within less than half an hour of my arriving at the College she had me licking her pussy. She hadn't even needed to insist. All she had to do was to expose herself. She raised her hips upwards, offering more of her sex to my lips. "Don't stop ... this pussy needs you, Adrianna." I ran the tip of my tongue across her wet folds again and then worked it between her labia. Her tightness reminded me of Marie O'Flanagan. For a few moments I tongue-fucked her, jabbing forcefully, and then withdrew my tongue so that I could swallow and savour her juices. It took a while, but eventually she began to breathe harder and her curvy body began to undulate in time with my ministrations. I was starting to get to her and it suddenly became clear that she had been looking forward to this moment every bit as much as I had. Her hands dropped to my hair, gathering strand after strand between her fingers and then holding me steady as she began to gyrate on my face. "That's it, Adrianna ... keep looking at me..." It wasn't easy to maintain eye-contact. I was taking her towards the edge and her body was pushing up harder into my face. I twisted my head so that I could continue to look at her as my mouth found her clit. "Oh, yeah ... suck it..." She curled her right leg behind my neck, pulling me tighter into her as she began to hump my face. I stretched my neck muscles and clamped the whole of my mouth around her clit. She let out a deep moan. Oh fuck, that sounded so good. The contrast in colour between my white fingers on her black thighs was intoxicating. She began to hump faster. Little throaty growls were escaping from the back of her throat, each increasing in velocity. When her body jerked, I knew I had her. I closed my eyes in anticipation of what was coming next. Having the black teenager gush all over my face that first time was the most intense sexual moment I'd ever experienced. I wanted to feel that sensation again and this time I was ready for it. The first burst splashed over my hair and the second over the top of my face. But then I was able to adjust my position so that she could fire across my mouth. My whimpers of delight filled my ears as I eagerly swallowed as much I could. I lapped at her wetness as she recovered, using my lips and mouth to cover every inch of her delectable black teenage mound. She allowed me to clean her, like a Queen bestowing a gift on one of her subjects, until eventually she gave a long, languid stretch of her body. "You haven't lost your eagerness or your touch, Adrianna," she slowly drawled, staring contentedly down at me. "Now why don't you get some rest? It's going to be a long weekend. * It must have been close to midnight and still I hadn't slept. The fire remained inside my body and my heart was pounding inside my chest. Being sexually dominated by Madeleine was one thing, but Sherrilyn was something else. Yes, the photographs gave her a hold over me she continued to exploit, but it was so much more than that. She was so young—an eighteen year-old teenage temptress who had quickly worked out how to press all my buttons—she was beautiful, had a wonderfully voluptuous body ... and she was black. Going down on her again was like being given a drug. The more I had, the more I needed. Only this time, there was an added ingredient. The Black Sorority! What had she said? "Six girls in one weekend ... and black girls can be so demanding..." The thought was as exhilarating as it was frightening. "I had an even better idea," she had then said, "Just to make sure we all get full value." My mind was alive with the possibilities, but I was already learning how difficult it was to second guess her. I twisted on the bed, back against the headboard, and slipped a hand down between my thighs. That familiar wetness was comforting somehow. Almost in slow motion, I slid a finger knuckle deep inside my sex. Then a second. Each of them worked in and out in perfect unison while I brushed the pad of my thumb against my clitoris. I closed my eyes and imagined that Sherrilyn was with me again. These were her fingers. The thought made me gasp and I began to grind my hips upwards against my fingers. Within seconds I was close. I pushed up from the bed, planting the soles of my feet on the mattress for better purchase. The thin sheet covering my naked body slipped to the side. I heard a slight noise above the sound of my heavy breathing but it took a few moments to fully register. When it did, my eyes shot open. The black girl standing in the doorway—maybe nineteen, twenty—was licking her lips. Her mouth was half-open and her dark eyes were wide, feeding off the sight confronting her. Even as I grabbed the sheet to cover my nakedness, she closed the door behind her and stepped into the room. For a few seconds I was so embarrassed that I couldn't immediately speak. Her husky voice filled the void. "Hi, I'm Brooke. You look just like your photographs. Only better..." It took her three steps to reach the bed. I tried to hold onto the sheet but she shook her head. "Sherrilyn sent me," she murmured, as if she knew that was the key to my acquiescence. I let go of the sheet as she gently tugged it away. The way her eyes greedily devoured my nakedness gave me goosebumps. "All the girls are beside themselves at the thought of having a Supermodel here." The slightest of smiles touched her lips as she added. "Especially someone with your talents..." A wave of heat washed over me. My talents? It felt as if the air was being sucked from the room and the walls were closing in on me. "Don't let me stop you," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me. "Or can I help?" She dropped a black hand onto my white thigh as she leant forward to kiss me. It was as tender as it was unexpected. She smelled good. Some kind of spicy perfume. The aroma seemed to wrap itself around me. "I'm like you..." she whispered into my mouth. Her hand was moving, pushing my legs apart, sliding between my thighs. Her eyes narrowed a little as she ran her index finger along the full length of my moist sex. When she gently parted my labia with the finger, I tried but failed miserably to stifle a groan. "I like to perform oral sex on a woman," she persuasively continued. "That gets my juices flowin'. You'd like that, wouldn't you babe." I blinked my eyes in an attempt to stop my head from spinning as she moved her body confidently and easily between my legs. She slid downwards until her head was opposite my sex. I could feel her hot breath on my inner thighs as her gaze found mine again. "Playtime," she hummed. AN AFTERNOON AT THE BEACH It was late the next morning when Brooke left my room. By then, she had done things to me that even Marie O'Flanagan—the red-haired Irish girl who had introduced me to the delights of girl-girl sex all those years ago—hadn't even contemplated. Not only had the young black beauty given me one orgasm after another, but when my pussy had been unable to take any more she had started on my ass. I had never even imagined that I could scream out an orgasm simply through a talented tongue licking around my anus. The plan, she had told me before leaving my room, was a visit to the beach this afternoon. There was someone else that Sherrilyn wanted me to meet... I fell into an uneasy sleep again after she left me only to be awakened a couple of hours later by Pierre's phone call. That was just as well. I had overslept. Brooke was calling for me again in half an hour. He was as sweet as ever, asking me if I had arrived safely and how things had gone. How was Françoise, what had we been doing... I had cut short the conversation by telling him I was meeting with some of Françoise's friends in half an hour. It was true, although not in the context that he thought. I only just had time for a shower and set it to a punishingly cold temperature in an attempt to help me clear my mind. There were a couple of things I couldn't work out. I had serviced Sherrilyn again, yes, and desperately hoped I would have at least one other opportunity before I returned home. But I was also there to service others, wasn't I? Up to six of them, Sherrilyn had intimated. Yet Brooke had spent the night pleasuring me, not the other way around. Why? Was the plan to soften me up, throw me off guard? That hardly seemed likely in the circumstances. Yet ... that wasn't the only concern I was experiencing. In the brief interlude of sleep between Brooke leaving my room and Pierre's phone call, I not unnaturally found myself dreaming. Sexual dreams. Dreams I shouldn't be having. I dreamt of Sherrilyn of course, and Brooke, and even of Tyra and Noelle—the two African Supermodels who had been starring with me in Dubai. I had found myself surreptitiously glancing at them during the fashion show ... wondering, imagining. That wasn't the worst of it. God forgive me but I had also found myself dreaming of Françoise. My step-daughter was a real beauty, with her classical cheekbones, perfect complexion, bow-like lips and short cut blonde hair. She was sexy, too—her slender athletic body and honey tanned skin turned heads wherever she went. But I'd never had dreams like this before. The way Françoise had gone down on Sherrilyn beside the pool, while I had overlooked them from the balcony, was imprinted on my brain forever. My dreams had brought the moment alive again, except that it was no longer Sherrilyn receiving the benefit of her sweet tongue. It was me... * Brooke and I both lay on beach towels, soaking up the sun. A third towel—as yet unoccupied—lay on the hot sand beside us. She had been clever enough to find a spot far enough away from prying eyes and yet the beach area was so small it wasn't easy to find anywhere secluded enough to be considered completely private. The bikini she had lent me, like hers, only barely contained my breasts. And the Brazilian cut thong left practically nothing to the imagination. My bikini was red, Brooke's was white, and she had already insisted on us and untying our tops and applying some sun-tan oil to one another. The feeling of horniness that had lain dormant for all of a couple of hours had instantly returned... I eventually flipped onto my back and tried to focus on the comforting sound of the sea. After a while, it was hard to keep my eyes open. The events of last night were catching up with me and with Brooke stroking my hair as gently as this, it was difficult not to drift off to sleep. A shadow passing across my eyes brought them open again. "So this is her?" a husky voice asked above me. I twisted on the towel, shielding my eyes despite the shades that Brooke had provided. This must be Myra. She was even more attractive than I had imagined—crinkly, brown, highlighted hair that was mussed up in a sexy kind of way, dark eyes that were hooded in a come-to-bed sort of way, and full thick lips that were made to be kissed. Dropping her bag on the sand beside her towel, she unfastened the buttons on her see-through white blouse and allowed it to float down to her feet. She was braless underneath and her pink nipples stood proud and erect on her full breasts. "Like 'em?" she chided. "Sherrilyn said you loved titties." They swayed sexily as she unfastened her denim skirt and kicked it away. I should have known she wouldn't be wearing panties. "She says you like pussy, too..." A wave of longing washed through me as I took in the full package. I was so used to seeing smooth pussy's in the modelling world that it was a surprise to find her labia were surrounded by dark hair. "I bet yours is sore after last night," she continued when gaze found hers again. "Brooke is the best lil pussylicker there is. Even better than Françoise." Even as the words washed through me, I felt fingers tugging at the ties of my bikini thong. Before I could react, Brooke had pulled them free. I turned towards her as the thong dropped away and saw that she was already nude, too. Myra and Brooke's gazes simultaneously covered my body and then they exchanged glances. When Brooke stuck out her pierced tongue and lewdly flicked it in the empty air, they burst into laughter. "So, you're a famous model, right..." Myra asked. She flopped down on her towel and indicated for me to do the same "And married to Françoise's father..." A blush covered my body. Talk of Pierre always made me very nervous. "Sherrilyn's made quite a catch," she continued. "That girl's something else, don't you think? She called me this morning and said you hadn't lost your touch..." She cupped her breasts as she watched my reaction and stared at me through those sexy, hooded eyes. I was embarrassed, and yet there was an element of satisfaction, too. If they'd been talking about me—and of course they had—she would have known what Sherrilyn had made me do. Would she want the same? Her eyes found mine as she bent her head to sexily lick her left nipple. "You like my titties?" "Yes." I said, at last finding my voice. "They're beautiful." * My reward for the compliment was to be handed the bottle of suntan oil. Myra lay back on her elbows, her eyes not leaving mine as she watched me oil her breasts. I tried to do so mechanically but she was firmly in control of the situation. "Harder, Adrianna, get those fingers really deep..." The oiling turned into a massage. Her tits felt wonderful under my hands and the effect of the oil added an extra sensual dimension. I couldn't help myself and the mood quickly turned sexual. I dribbled more oil from the bottle onto her breasts and as it ran across them in little rivulets, I used long sweeping circular movements to lather it in. The way she arched her back and watched me as I began to knead and manipulate her breasts was an added turn-on. Her erect nipples were burning into my palms. I became so aroused that I would have gone down on her right then and there had she instructed me. "You ever had sex with another model?" she lazily asked. Her eyes were dreamy in that sexy way of hers. I shook my head. "No." "But you've wanted to, right?" I shook my head again. It was only in the last couple of weeks that I'd begun to think that way. "Not even the black models? What about that Tyra girl?" My hesitation gave the game away. I'd thought about what it would be like to service both Tyra and Noelle during and since the show in Dubai. Myra laughed out loud as I wavered. It was a sexy sound. "You can't fool me," she told me. "Ever been with another guy since you married?" This time I didn't hesitate. "No. Never." "Not even a black guy?" I shook my head. "Most of 'em are hung like donkeys. I'll introduce you to a couple. You'd like that, huh?" No. No I wouldn't. Pierre was the only man I wanted and I had no intention of cheating on him. Well, not in that way. It was different with another woman. Still, hung like donkeys... "Why don't you do my feet?" she suddenly said, stretching her body from head to toe. "If you can do them like my titties, you're gonna have this girl purring like a cat." I picked up the bottle of oil as I changed position but it soon became apparent I didn't need it. Myra raised her foot towards my face. "What do you think of my toenails?" Her voice was deep and husky, even huskier than before. "It's called red passion. I painted 'em 'specially for you, Adrianna." I took a couple of deep breaths. That look was in her eyes again. She raised her foot higher and ran the tip of her toes across my mouth. "Open those beautiful lips, baby. That's it, like that..." * At first it felt strange, foreign. Not sexy at all. But the more I got into it, the more erotic it became. Myra's moans of appreciation helped. Who would have thought anyone could become turned on by this simple act? Yet as each moment passed, her moans grew a little louder. I tightened my grip around her ankle and licked in-between her toes, sliding my tongue in and out as sensuously as I could. "Oh shit, yes..." I was following my instincts but it seemed to be working. When I put her big toe in my mouth, I could feel a shiver of excitement pass through my body as well as hers. "You watchin?" she murmured to Brooke. "This puss is a natural..." I could see Brooke out of the corner of my eye. She responded by sliding her right hand between Myra's thighs. "Oh yeah, baby." Myra's hands went to her breasts as she spoke, pulling on her nipples. When she widened her legs to allow better access, Brooke grinned at me and sexily waggled her pierced tongue in the air. The thought of being seen by nearby beachgoers cascaded through my mind. What if they complained to the authorities about our actions? I could almost see the lurid newspaper headlines in my mind. The potential consequences didn't bear thinking about. Adrianna DuPont, Supermodel, caught frolicking naked with black women on public beach. But I was too into this to allow the thought to linger. And I wasn't going to allow Brooke to outdo me. I allowed saliva to drip from my mouth onto Myra's toes and rubbed it in with my fingers before taking her big toe between my lips again. I found myself imaging it was Pierre's cock. My eyes found Myra's. There was a dreamy smile on her face. She spread her legs a little more and I could see that her labia were slightly open. If I adjusted my position slightly, I could watch Brooke's fingers work while I gave Myra's big toe the blow job of its life. Her hips were moving in a circle in time to the probing digits and she was pushing her toe deeper into my mouth. Brooke was fingering her hard and I was sucking for all I was worth. For a few moments it was difficult to assess which of us was most turned on. But then Myra began to groan—a guttural noise—and her body suddenly stiffened. I kept her toes in my mouth throughout her orgasm, unwilling to relinquish my prize. Brooke grinned at me again as she raised her juicy fingers to her mouth and began to lick each in turn. * As she recovered, Myra lazily stretched her entire body on the towel and then gently lifted her foot away from my mouth. "Sherrilyn didn't exaggerate..." she told me. Lying back on her elbows again, she placed the foot I'd just become so intimate with between my legs. When her toes scraped along my inner thigh, I blinked my eyes in an attempt to stop my head from spinning. "Does that feel good?" she asked as she ran her big toe along the full length of my opening. When I moaned out my response, she used it to gently part my labia. As soon as she eased the toe inside me, she knew she had me. I was so aroused that it only took three rotations to release an orgasm so intense that I almost fainted. When she pulled her toe free, she curled her foot around my shoulders. The heel she hooked around the back of my neck slowly pulled my head forward. For a moment or two, I wasn't sure what she had in mind. But then her legs were parting again until I was faced with her hair-covered treasure, delightfully wet and glistening. Her clit was peeking at me, demanding attention. "Come on, Adrianna, show me what you can do" she softly murmured. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this..." A FAMILY AFFAIR I lay in the bath, reflecting on the events of the afternoon. Who would have thought that toe-sucking could be so erotic? But that had only been the start. It was difficult to believe that we hadn't attracted attention. Three beautiful women—all as naked as the day they were born—giving in to their sexual needs on a public beach. Someone had to have seen us. Yet even that thought was such a turn-on. French Connections Ch. 02 Being watched while going down on another woman... I tipped my dark hair back, soaked it in the foamy bath water, and then rested my head against the back of the tub. Myra had been insatiable on the beach. She had developed a hip grinding motion that made sure my entire face had been covered with her juices and had cum three times before she eventually allowed me to escape from between her legs. Brooke had been involved throughout, whispering sexually charged words of encouragement, continually stroking her hands across my legs, my ass, my pussy, and planting soft kisses across my tingling skin when she wasn't sucking on Myra's tits. I wondered how much more would be in store tonight and a shiver ran through my body despite the warmth of the water. I closed my eyes as I savoured the sinful possibilities and I curled my right leg over the side of the tub so that I could drop my right hand under the welcoming bubbles. My clit was already erect. How many women would be waiting for me tonight? Expecting me? Wanting me? The thought of being made to serve again was intoxicating and sent shivers of excitement through me. The feeling of my fingers squeezing my little bud was almost impossible to resist. Sherrilyn had alluded to six members of the Black Sorority in total, but she'd also given a clear indication it wasn't going to be that straightforward. "But six girls in one weekend ... and black girls can be so demanding. So I have an even better idea, just to make sure we all get full value..." The idea of Sherrilyn planning all of this, using me in such a base way, sent waves of arousal through my bubble covered body. Calm down, I told myself, but the three fingers inside me were making life difficult. I reluctantly pulled my hand away so that I could suck my juices from my slender fingers. The orgasm would have to wait until I returned to the bedroom. I could make it last much longer there. Hands on the side of the tub, I pushed upwards and out of the bath. The mirror was steamy but I could still see my reflection. I slicked my damp dark hair back over my head with my left hand and then patted myself dry with the fluffy red towel. When I stepped out into my bedroom, I nearly died with shock. * "I made you jump?" Sherrilyn chuckled. To my disappointment, she was fully dressed. Tight black jeans and an off the shoulder checked blouse, knotted at the waist. "But there's nothing to be frightened about here. You should know by now, Adrianna. Only good things happen here and I have another surprise for you. Sit here..." My heart pumped faster as her fingers caught the end of the towel and pulled it from me. The way her eyes appraised my naked body as I moved towards the chair made me feel warm. Who wouldn't find me attractive? My nipples sat hard and high on their peaks and my smooth pussy was glistening from my arousal. "I hear you had a wonderful time with Brooke and Myra on the beach this afternoon," she murmured. I could smell the subtle aroma of her perfume as she leant over me from behind the chair. Before I knew it, her hands were passing something across my eyes and darkness descended. "Shhh," she soothed, as she settled the black material across my eyes and tied it behind my head. "It's just a blindfold." She tugged it so tight that it almost hurt. "It's to make the moment even more pleasurable, Adrianna," she explained, brushing her hands across my breasts. "You did everything asked of you today and deserve a reward." I felt her press something metallic into my hand. When she raised my hand to my ear, I could hear the ringing tone. I realised she'd given me a mobile phone. I wondered why but didn't have to wait long for an answer. "I've called Pierre for you," she told me. "Have you ever been eaten out while talking to your husband? No? You're going to love it." His voice was in my ear before I could object. In truth, the thought of what she had planned had my blood pumping in anticipation. "Pierre," I quickly said, trying to keep my voice calm. "It's Adrianna." "Hello my darling," his sexy French voice murmured. "What a lovely surprise. Nothing is wrong, n'est pas?" "No, not at all," I hesitantly replied. Pierre and I could talk for hours. But in this abnormal situation, I was suddenly tongue-tied. "I ... was just missing you." His laugh was a warm Gallic sound. "And I miss you too, mon amour," he comfortingly told me. "But you'll be home tomorrow. We'll have a couple of days together before I have to head off to Brussels and believe me, Adrianna, I intend making the most of them." Even before he had finished the sentence, Sherrilyn was on her knees in front of me. I could feel her but not see her and when she pushed my legs apart, I widened them instantaneously. "Me too, Pierre," I managed to blurt out as I felt her tongue lick along my inner thigh. Her soft fingertips slithered up and down my skin as she kissed her way closer to my core. I raised my hips, pushing up from the chair, needing that tongue. "How is Françoise," I heard Pierre ask, but only one half of my brain was listening. The other was focused on the way Sherrilyn's soft lips were brushing along my labia. I placed one hand on the back of her head to steady myself and tightened it in her soft locks as she began to lap at me. "She's fine," I gasped, trying to regulate my breathing. "I ... I haven't seen much of her." The wicked tongue made its way along my labia again and then did a figure eight on my clit. I had to hold the phone away from my face as my heart began to palpitate. When I returned it to my ear, Pierre was talking again. Not a single word had registered. "So, how have you been spending your time," I heard him continue. I was so high on sexual arousal that I almost laughed out loud in hysteria... A young black girl called Brooke gave me one orgasm after another last night. Today, I licked Sherrilyn to an orgasm and then did the same to Myra, but only after I had sucked her toes. Oh yes, and right now Sherrilyn is working miracles on my clit with her tongue. Her fingernails scraped along my skin. Not even Marie O'Flanagan had taken me to an orgasm as quickly as this. I could already feel my body succumbing to her working mouth. God, that beautiful tongue had me so close. I tried to stave off the inevitable but knew I needed to get off the phone right now. "Pierre, this is such a bad line," I grunted. "I'll call you tomorrow before I leave..." I ended the call with a click and dropped the phone onto the floor. It was at that point that I felt fingers on the blindfold, pulling the ties free. I blinked twice as the light hit my eyes and then vision returned. Sherrilyn was facing me, casually holding the blindfold in one hand and a camera in the other. For a moment my brain didn't work. If she was standing beside me, then who was... When my gaze filtered downwards and recognised the short blonde hair, a tightness covered my chest. I could hardly breathe. Everything went into overdrive. It was as if some outside force was fast forwarding the sensual nightmare I was caught up in. I twisted my body, trying to pull away, but Françoise's hands tightened on my thighs. They held me in a vice like grip as she lathed her tongue across my sex. I twisted again, attempting to throw her off, but my movements were counterproductive. Her face was now ensconced firmly against me and her lapping tongue was taking full advantage. My guilt-ridden face found Sherrilyn's gaze. There was a wickedness in her eyes as she watched my struggle. This was my step-daughter, for fuck's sake! "She begged me," she calmly shrugged as she raised the camera. "Why don't you just enjoy..." I heard the click of the camera as I glanced downwards again ... one click after another, in rapid succession. A string of saliva ran between Françoise's bottom lip and my glistening sex. Her eyes stared up into mine as I dropped my hand back to her hair, to pull her away, but she shook her head. I hesitated and it was fatal. Françoise's eyes stayed on mine as she dipped her head again. She licked slowly, as if afraid to scare me off, and then a little faster when she saw that she had me. They smiled gratefully at me as my hips began to move in time with the laps of her tongue. Sherrilyn's camera continued to record the scene but by then I was hurtling towards an incestuous orgasm that was going to be off the Richter scale. When Françoise's tongue found my clit again, I was lost. The orgasm hit me with such a vivid intensity that I blacked out instantly. PREPARATION The feeling overwhelming me as I dressed for the evening was unlike any I had ever experienced. Sherrilyn and Françoise had long since departed my room but they had done the perfect job between them. I was trapped—dammed—in a hell of my own making. I had taken one more step along my journey to depravity and there was no going back. Before, I had options. Now, I had none. Pierre would never forgive me if he ever saw those photographs. The blame would be mine, for corrupting his daughter. And the modelling world—or any other career I tried to pursue—would be appalled at my inexcusable behaviour. Okay, models weren't the best role models when it came to sex, but they were discreet and my transgression would be seen as a step too far. Way too far... Yet ... curiously ... the internal battle I'd been waging with myself ever since Sherrilyn's original seduction had been resolved. My moral objections could be set to one side. Now, Sherrilyn had tricked me with the blindfold and I had no choice. In that sense, it was as if I'd been given the perfect excuse to indulge every fantasy I'd ever had. Including tonight... I'd been given no instructions on how I was to dress ... just that I should be ready for collection. Brooke and Myra were going to call for me at nine and escort me to the 'party'. I checked my appearance in the mirror and told myself that the printed silk crepe de chine Miu Miu dress was perfect. Without being obvious, it tantalisingly showed off a serious amount of cleavage and thigh in equal measure. I had thought of going naked underneath but instead went for a more sophisticated look—my Aubade vintage black lace half cup bra and matching plunging thong. Whatever lay in store, I intended to make the maximum impression. * Myra and Brooke sat close enough in the back of the taxi for me to feel their warm bodies either side of mine. My head was spinning—too many thoughts—and I tried to gain some respite by resting my head back against the seat. But as soon as I closed my eyes, the soft feel of a hand settling on my thigh sprung them open again. "Feeling it, babe?" Brooke asked. A furtive smile covered her face as her fingers stroked across my skin. "Sure she is," Myra said from the other side of me. "So am I. You look fabulous, Adrianna." she whispered in my ear. "Thanks, Myra," I croaked. "You do, too." Her polka dot dress—black dots on a white background—clung to her curves and her tits were practically spilling over the top. "Daaayum, baby," she huskily said. "The girls are gonna go mad when they see you dressed like that." I felt my breath catch. The girls? Which girls? How many? I wanted to know more but somehow it didn't seem right to ask. "Sure are," Brooke chuckled. She pressed her body closer against mine and her fingers edged higher. They felt so cool on my skin. There was such a sexual intensity in the gaze she had fixed on me that I could feel the heat between my thighs. I glanced back at Myra. Even in the dim light in the back of the taxi, her breasts looked so appetising. "You're gonna meet Erica, tonight, you know that?" she told me. Erica? That was a new name. "You're goin' to love her," Brooke murmured knowingly from the other side of me. "She's wild." A flush ran up my neck. "Wild?" "Oh yeah." She and Myra exchanged glances and then Brooke threw her head back and laughed heartily. "Oh, babe, you have no idea," Brooke eagerly continued. "When she puts on her strap-on, she feels she really has a dick. She likes you to suck it to get in the mood before she fucks you." Her fingers were between my thighs now. I had somehow widened my legs, inviting them in. How had that happened? "I think we got the Supermodel excited..." Myra asked, pushing her body tight against mine. There was hardly room to breathe between them. Both women were so close that I could feel their hot breath on each of my cheeks. "Need some attention before we get there, Adrianna?" I stared at one of them, then the other. Holding on to any thought was just so difficult. Brooke's fingers were gently brushing across my black thong. I could hear my own breath coming out in panted gasps. Myra's full lips softly touched mine. I responded with my open mouth and the kiss turned passionate—hot, wet and demanding. Her tongue slid into my mouth at the same time that Brooke's probing fingers pushed the material of my thong aside. I was so wet. She used two fingertips to stroke my labia and I groaned. When they twisted and pushed their way inside me, I let out a long, needy moan. "I know, Adrianna," Myra's sympathetic voice whispered into my mouth. She briefly pulled away but only so she could slip one strap of her polka dot dress from her shoulders. Then the other. The top of her dress dropped between us to her waist and she gently tugged my head towards her inviting breasts. "While you let Brooke have her way, feed on these..." THE EVENING ... THE PARTY ... THE BLACK SORORITY I hadn't known what to expect tonight but it wasn't this. I had thought we would be heading somewhere intimate, somewhere private, where I would meet at least some of the remaining members of the Black Sorority. Instead, I had been taken to a night club that seemed the preserve of beautiful black women. There wasn't a single guy there and from what I could see, I was the only white woman present. There were plenty of stares as we walked across the floor and found a place in the dark alcove to the left of the dance floor. Word quickly spread about the white girl in the club and I just hoped that no-one there knew exactly who I was. For a while I thought it was just to be Sherrilyn, Myra, Brooke and me in our group but then Erica joined us. Tall and slim, with long black hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, she reminded me of Tyra Banks and could have easily passed as one of my model friends. I sensed who she was even before we were introduced. She was as hot as the others, but in a different kind of way. Brooke was bubbly and vibrant. Myra was hot and smouldering. This woman might be beautiful but she had a no-nonsense look in her dark eyes. She was like a predator, someone who knew exactly what she wanted. From the way she occasionally looked at me, I could sense what that was. The thought that she might be as accomplished with the strappy as Madeleine sent shivers down my spine. For a while we had just watched the action, drinking cocktails. I knew I had consumed more than my fair share but with the increasing amount of interest being shown in me, I needed the Dutch courage. The raw, pounding beat of the music, and the way the women were expressing themselves on the dance floor, was infused with an intense sexual energy. Each movement was sexual, designed to flaunt themselves. It was impossible not to be seduced by the atmosphere. Just as I was wondering what was to happen next, Sherrilyn slipped an arm around my waist. "Can you dance like that, Adrianna," she casually whispered into my ear. "Everyone here is waiting to see." My fuzzy eyes turned to look at her and then back across to the flock of women on the dance floor. I understood. She wanted me to put on a show. And while only black women could move in such a blatant, provocative way, dancing had always been one of my loves. Three deep breaths later and I slowly made my way amongst the dancers, trying to ignore their stares. My hips quickly matched the deep throbbing of the music. Thank goodness I'd had so much to drink. Space quickly opened up around me. Women were gathering to watch the white girl dance. They arranged themselves in a circle around me and began to clap as I swirled and held my arms in the air while I twisted my body. I was flying high on the attention, without a thought that the encircling women had, temporarily at least, cut me off from my group. Then they were joining in... Someone pressed into me from behind and the feel of breasts against my back was intoxicating. I revelled in the sheer sexuality of the moment and pushed back into whoever it was. My ass spooned into the woman's tight body as her hands on my hips pulled me closer. I leant back against her and erotically shook my head from side to side as the tempo of the music increased. Another woman—tall and athletic—confronted me face on. Her eyes were wild with longing. She slipped her hands around my neck and for a moment I thought she was going to kiss me. "You came here to tease the black girls, baby," she slurred. "Or just to get fucked?" Her hands dropped from my neck and cupped my breasts through the thin material of my dress. My nipples were suddenly alive as her soft fingers kneaded them. Then she was kissing me and I responded with the same fervour, opening my mouth as she pushed her tongue inside. Hands unzipped the back of my dress and I did nothing to stop them. It fell limply to the floor, pooling around my stiletto heels. Things were starting to get out of hand but I didn't care. I was being fed a cocktail of hungry black women and I couldn't get enough. So what if I was dancing in my lingerie? I'd chosen it especially for the occasion, hadn't I? My bra went next, unhooked by unseen hands behind me. The sight of my full tits bouncing free was met with a huge murmur of appreciation from those around me. I practically growled as someone's lips found my breasts and sucked each hard nipple in turn. One set of hands after another reached for me and one woman sank to her knees, sticking her tongue out in an obscene licking gesture. My arousal soared at the sight. I'd give her more than she bargained for! My hands gripped the back of her hair, dragging her head under the hem of my dress. I fucked her face with my skimpily covered groin until I cried out my orgasm and then looked for the next candidate. But the women had their own ideas... Hands were on me again. I was being pushed down onto my knees. An older woman pulled her skirt upwards and dragged my face to her sex. She gripped a handful of my hair, pulling me tighter. I responded instantly, loving her taste, loving her need, loving the way she moaned aloud at the feel of my tongue lapping at her juices. When she came, another woman took her place. Then another. Hands wrapped themselves around my naked breasts from behind. Others were between my legs. God knows when or where my thong had gone. My body was being fondled, caressed, explored as my mouth and tongue indulged itself on one black pussy after another. I had no idea how long it lasted, how many women I served, or how many times someone's fingers between my thighs made me cum. All I knew was that Sherrilyn had appeared again from nowhere. The women around us were baying as she pushed me flat on my back with the sole of her foot, I was at the edge of sanity. I lay there obediently as she hiked up her dress and swung her leg across my head. Everything was blocked out other than the tantalizing folds of her smooth sex as she lowered herself. * Even as I raised my head and ran my tongue along her labia, the enormity of the moment wasn't lost on me. Up to this point, all of my indiscretions had remained private. No-one except for Sherrilyn and her Black Sorority friends had even the faintest inkling. French Connections Ch. 02 "Thank you," I sipped some water and turned and smiled at Jean-Luc. I saw the love and concern in his eyes and immediately I felt better. I put my arm around him and rested my head on his shoulder, content and happy in his arms. I couldn't help but love him. But like the moth to the flame, I had no idea what I was letting myself in for either. But you know what? I bet right before that moth gets burned by that flame; it's in sheer and utter bliss! At least that's how I felt, right before I got burned... ************ Later that night, just after dinner we were sitting in front of the fire Jean-Luc had lit - partially because it was a little chilly and partially because it was romantic. "How are you feeling now, Cherie?" Jean-Luc asked as he tenderly kissed my forehead. I snuggled into him more, content and relaxed in his arms as I watched the fire flicker. "Fine... Good... Happy..." I smiled, turning my head to look at him, "and you?" He looked even more handsome in the firelight than usual. "Good, Cherie. You are better from today?" ...such a sexy accent. I didn't even care that his English wasn't perfect, after all my French wasn't either! We never had any set rules as to whether we would speak in English or French; it usually just depended on our mood at the time. I knew he found my accent sexy when I spoke with him in French, so whenever I wanted to seduce him, I usually spoke in French... besides, everything always sounded so much sexier in French anyway -- no matter who said it! "Oui, merci" I said quietly as I planted soft kisses on his chin, his cheek and finally his lips. I kissed him tenderly and lovingly. He wrapped his arms around me tighter and passionately returned my kiss. It wasn't long until our hands had worked their way beneath our clothing and we were caressing each other's bare skin. Jean-Luc undressed me first, pulling my shirt off over my head and removing my bra. He remarked at how deliciously sexy my pink erect nipples looked in the firelight before suckling on one. His big strong hand struggled to contain the fullness of my other breast as he massaged and caressed me. He pulled my nipple gently with his teeth. I ran my fingers through his short brown hair as his mouth engulfed my nipple once again. He shifted his position on the couch so that he could kiss further down my body, gently pushing me onto my back in the process. I lay obediently on the couch as he took my jeans and panties off slowly. He kissed my stomach next... and then my hips... followed by my inner thighs... I squirmed as his hot breath teased my pussy lips. He loved teasing me, and I loved being teased in return. His kisses were so delicate, as if touching a rare delicate flower that might shatter if he wasn't careful. He gently kissed each of my pussy lips in turn, and then my clit. He paused a little longer on my clit, kissing it just a little bit harder and pulling on it gently with his lips. I gasped. He repeated the process with his tongue, almost as if he were a connoisseur sampling some fine wine (or in this case young pussy) before deciding whether to drink the whole bottle! Apparently, he concluded that I was in fact good enough to eat (or drink); because the next sensation I felt was his outstretched tongue expertly working its way inside me and lapping up my already abundant juices. "Oh goddd!" I moaned, throwing my head back into the couch and arching my back. It seemed that this was all the encouragement Jean-Luc was waiting on. With a deep growl, he tongue-fucked my pussy, mashing his lips against mine and pausing only long enough to lick and suck my clit every few moments before drilling his tongue inside me again. He ate my pussy with a sloppy, reckless abandon. I writhed and trembled as he slurped and sucked and swallowed... It didn't take long before my breath halted, my body stiffened and my pussy exploded! I panted as Jean-Luc continued to tease my sensitive pussy with his lips, although a little less vigorously. I flinched each time his lips or tongue touched me and had to gently push him away so that I could recover a little bit from my orgasm. I sat up and pulled his face gently to mine. His lips were covered with my juices, so I kissed and licked them clean. It also felt so wonderfully naughty tasting myself on his lips. I pulled his t-shirt off and undid the button in his jeans. My eyes locked onto his, as I slipped my hand in and wrapped my fingers around the thick shaft inside. I loved watching his face as I first touched his cock whenever we made love. The expression was utterly erotic -- his eyebrows pulled tight together, his eyes became half-closed slits and his mouth fell open in a scream that was never to be heard. Then as I began stroking, the expression changed. The breath he didn't realise he had been holding was released in a slow, satisfying soft sigh and his tensed facial muscles (and shoulders) relaxed. Another few strokes... his eyes eventually reopened and met mine again, as if to say simultaneously 'thanks for that' and more importantly 'please don't stop'. I leaned in closer and captured his lips with mine, devouring them roughly. Our tongues wrestled playfully and passionately as my hand pumped his cock faster. My sensitive pussy was already starting to ache for his cock, but it would have to wait its turn -- I wanted to play with him a little more first. I cupped the tip of his cock in the palm of my hand and massaged it gently, as my lips caught his tongue... my lips and tongue gave him a preview of what they were about to do to his cock as I sucked and licked his tongue in my mouth, unable to stifle my moan as I did so. Jean-Luc groaned as I squeezed his cock gently, before taking my hand away so that I could remove his few remaining pieces of clothing. I knelt in front of him, between his legs as he sat on the couch. My hands caressed his inner thighs. With each caress I moved closer and closer to his throbbing cock. He was already very hard and I would have to take it a little bit easier on him than I really wanted to. I wanted to devour him whole, lick and suck every last inch of him over and over with the same passion and reckless abandon that he had eaten me with. However, I also wanted (no, needed) to feel his hard cock deep inside my pussy. Hmmm... decisions, decisions... I leaned over so that my face was frustratingly close to his cock. I pushed his legs further apart. With my hands still holding his thighs apart, I stared into Jean-Luc's eyes. With a mischievous grin on my face, I winked at him, before blowing a cool stream of air over the tip of his cock. He flinched and shook his head slightly. He knew I was not going make this easy for him. Holding his gaze, I leaned down even more with my tongue outstretched and very lightly traced it down his shaft all the way to his balls. I ran my tongue in lazy circles around his balls, thoroughly coating them with my saliva. I sucked them into mouth, pulling them gently with my lips before releasing them and doing it all over again. My hands inched closer to his cock as I sucked his balls. Finally, they resumed stroking his shaft. Taking my time, I kissed and licked and sucked my way up from his balls to the tip of his cock. When I reached the tip, I blew another stream of cool air over it. I slowly licked the precum up, before planting soft kisses there. I swirled my tongue slowly over his head, allowing it time to savour the taste of another little drop of precum that was released. I wrapped my lips gently around the tip of his cock, as my tongue continued to wander over it... moaning softly into it as I French-kissed his cock. This was generally my favourite moment of any blowjob: the moment where I could taste and feel the cock in mouth but could still appreciate the anticipation of sucking it fully inside as hard as I could -- and of course the resultant reaction this will illicit from my lover. Even just thinking about it made my pussy throb! It was moments like this when I longed for a second cock to play with! Holding Jean-Luc's cock in my hands, stroking him, as I finally sucked him hard into my mouth and my tongue caressed and welcomed him as deeply as I could take him... "Mmmmmm," this was the moment when I wished... I wished there was another equally hard, equally delicious cock plunging into my pussy from behind, filling me up and fucking me hard! It was a fantasy that I never shared with anyone, but secretly longed to be fulfilled. Who knows, maybe one day, this dream will be realised... I sucked Jean-Luc's cock as deep as I could and then out again until just the tip was inside my mouth. I caressed him with my tongue, my lips and my hands... as much of him as possible, and with as much love as I could give. Jean-Luc's hand rested on the back of my head as his hips began moving slowing but purposefully off the couch, gently fucking my face. One hand continued caressing and massaging his balls, as my other hand dropped to my soaking pussy. I slid two fingers easily inside me and stroked myself, as Jean-Luc's cock moved faster and faster inside my mouth. I could tell by the sounds he was making that he was starting to get close. I pulled back and he released me, his cock glistening with my saliva. The look on my face was enough to explain what I wanted him to do. He pulled me up onto the couch, so that I straddled him. I reached my hand down and stroked his cock a few more times as I guided it to my waiting pussy. There was no teasing this time, no delays... just the hunger and the need. With our eyes locked, and a unified purpose, Jean-Luc jerked his hips just as I sank onto his cock. My eyes fell shut and my back arched as my body responded to this welcome intrusion. I grinded my hips in slow circles against his; giving my pussy a moment to comfortably accommodate his impressive girth. However, it was only a moment... Jean-Luc held me still with a powerful arm around my waist and pistoned into me hard. My head fell onto his chest as he fucked me. I trembled and shook from his unrelenting thrusts. I gripped him hard inside me as I came silently. He slowed down to allow me to catch my breath. I sat up, my lips finding his and treasuring them with a breathless kiss. I moved myself up and down on his cock, slowly building up a rhythm until I was bouncing harder and harder on him. I broke our kiss and struggled for air as I felt myself getting closer to climax again. I rode his cock faster, panting harder as my speed increased. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest, almost drowning out the smack of our loins as we collided and panted as our breathing become more difficult. My eyes locked onto his again. I felt my facial muscles contort as my entire body tensed again, my pussy possessively crushing his cock inside me as wave after wave of pure pleasure emanated from my groin and washed over me. My eyes never left his, even as my body quivered and my fleshed tingled all over as my orgasm began to subside. Jean-Luc pulled me down hard and thrust his cock as deep inside me as he could go, his eyes held mine as he shuddered and shot inside me. My pussy spasmed again as I felt him come inside me. His hand moved down my stomach, and he strummed my clit frantically with his outstretched thumb as he shot inside me again and again. I gripped him even tighter as my body tensed and shook again. A moment later, I collapsed - my head fell onto his shoulder as I fought to catch my breath. He wrapped his arms possessively around my trembling body, holding me tight to his chest. It felt like a blissful eternity as we sat there, holding each other, recovering. I had never felt closer to Jean-Luc than I felt at that moment. I felt a spiritual, as well as a physical and emotional, connection to him as we came. It was overwhelming, how deeply and passionately in love with him I was. We eventually untangled ourselves and lay naked on the rug in front of the fire. That feeling of sheer of utter bliss washed over me again as we bathed in the firelight together. I felt my eyes drift closed and I would've happily slept there, in his arms... forever and ever... and ever... "Be right back" Jean-Luc said suddenly, giving me a quick kiss. I watched and admired his beautiful naked body as he got up and walked away. I heard him rummaging in his backpack and within moments he was back by my side, kneeling beside me with a mischievously sexy look on his face. "You look so beautiful, Cherie. Even more beautiful by firelight..." He said as his eyes feasted on my naked form stretched out before him. His fingers traced delicately, almost absentmindedly, along my body caressing my soft skin... mapping my features; the swell of my breasts, the flatness of my stomach and the curve of my hips. I studied his eyes and his face as his studied my body. For the briefest moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of something sorrowful in his face... something that he regretted, or something that saddened him deeply. "I have something for you," he said, as he placed a small jewellery box on my stomach. "What is it?" I asked, almost as a reflex. "Open it." I took the box off my stomach and sat up. I was a little apprehensive about opening it, and also a little bit excited too. What if it is was an engagement ring? What would I say? How would I answer him if he asked me to marry him? I found myself smiling at the thought, despite how bizarre it would be to become engaged to a man I'd only known for a few months. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the box... "Jean-Luc, it's beautiful!" I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much! It's such a lovely gift, but you didn't have to..." I felt tears welling up behind my eyes looking at the beautiful heart-shaped locket Jean-Luc had just presented me with. "I know I didn't HAVE to. That's why I wanted to." He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. "Let me help you try it on." He took the delicate locket out of its box and opened the clasp. I piled my hair up out of the way as he reached around me and fastened the chain. The locket itself hung just above my breasts. "This way," he softly whispered as he held the delicate little silver heart between his fingers, "I'll always be close to your heart." I felt those tears welling up again, despite the corniness of his statement, those words got to me... "No matter what happens..." he added, this time staring into my eyes rather than at the locket. There was a seriousness in his gaze, and another flash of that sadness that I had glimpsed earlier. I didn't know what he meant exactly - but, for the second time that day, someone took a little stroll over my grave and another disconcerting shiver ran down my spine. Jean-Luc kissed me again. It was a soft and tender kiss. It would be our last... "I'm going to use the bathroom," he said, standing up "and then I'm going to try some of that chocolate cake we bought today." "Sounds like a plan," I smiled back. He pulled his boxers on and headed off down the hall. I sat up onto the couch and fished my panties out from between the cushions and put them on. I grabbed Jean-Luc's t-shirt and pulled it on over my head as I walked around the side of the couch, on my way into the kitchen. I never made it into the kitchen. It was while I was pulling the t-shirt over my head (and admittedly not looking where I was walking), that I tripped on the strap of Jean-Luc's backpack (which he had carelessly left at the side of the couch), knocking it over and spilling its contents on the ground -- myself along with them! "Nice one Jane," I said underneath my breath as I picked myself up. Thankfully, I wasn't injured... a small bruise here or there would be the worst of it, or so I initially thought. The real pain was just about to begin... Among Jean-Luc's belongings which had fallen from his open backpack, there was a little black jewellery box. I picked it up, my first thought was that it was the box my locket had came in, but a glance towards the fire confirmed that my box was still sitting on the rug where I had left it. So, this was the mysterious box from this afternoon. I couldn't help but be intrigued by what secret treasures it possessed. My curiosity got the better of me. I peeked down the hall to check that the bathroom door was still closed before gently pulling open the lid... My breath caught in my throat as I gazed upon a beautiful solitaire diamond, elegantly mounted in a thin gold band. It was the most beautiful antique diamond engagement ring I had ever seen. I still wasn't sure how I would react if Jean-Luc proposed to me, but looking at this beautiful ring made my heart soar! I had to try it on! I took another quick peek down the hall to check that the door was still closed, before I slipped the ring out of the box and onto my finger. It fit me perfectly! It felt so right wearing it that I would've loved to keep it on, but I knew that I wasn't supposed to know about this ring, let alone start wearing it before Jean-Luc had gotten the nerve to 'pop the question'. I had to pull the ring hard to get it off me -- it seemed it was a much tighter fit than I realised at first. I heard the toilet flush and knew I had only seconds to put the ring back where it was. In my haste, I dropped the ring when I yanked it off my finger. I fished around on the floor for it, feeling under the edge of the couch and retrieving it quickly. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't lost it, although it did pick up a little dust underneath the couch. I wiped it off against my shirt, and blew the dust away. It was while I was examining the ring to make sure it was clean before putting it back in its box that I spotted the engraving. On the inside of the ring, it read: "Claire et Jean-Luc, toujours." My heart stopped. This ring was not meant for me, it was meant for another woman. There was another woman... I don't remember hearing the bathroom door open, but I do remember Jean-Luc walking into the room at that very moment. I didn't try to hide the ring. Things were different now. I was not the one who had to do the explaining any longer. "Whose Claire?" I asked, before he could say anything. The phrase 'deer in the headlights' best describes the look on Jean-Luc's face as he saw me sitting on the floor, with a freshly engraved engagement ring in my hand that I had literally stumbled across, surrounded by several other items that had clearly fallen out of his backpack. "Jean-Luc, what's going on?" I asked quietly, stupidly hoping that there was some other explanation aside from the obvious conclusion. Perhaps the 'Jean-Luc' on the ring was another Jean-Luc that he knew, who wanted him to mind his ring so his girlfriend wouldn't find it and spoil the surprise? It would've been a pretty lame excuse, I know. To be honest, I don't know what exactly I was hoping to hear him say. Anything other than what he did say I suppose. "I'm sorry Jane. I've wanted to tell you for a while now. I just..." he swallowed hard and looked away. "I could not find the words. I didn't want to hurt you." I sat frozen, listening to his confession. I couldn't move... I couldn't even think. I was numb. Jean-Luc continued speaking. His words seemed to wash over me from somewhere far away, with few actually sinking into my brain. From what I understood, it started out as a renewed friendship with an ex-girlfriend, someone he had dated for over two years. Recently, he refused to tell me exactly how recently, things started to develop again. Apparently, because I was so busy with work, they started spending more and more time together. He said that he didn't want to mess things up with her this time, so he planned on proposing to her to prove his commitment to her. French Connections Ch. 02 "Bullshit." The word was out of my mouth and into the air before I even realised I had said it. Jean-Luc looked stunned. "Bullshit!" I repeated, a little louder this time. "Then what the FUCK are you doing here with me!? Why are you HERE with me, making love to me, when you're about to become engaged to someone else?!" My bewilderment and astonishment at what I was hearing, was too overwhelming to even try to hide -- not that I particularly wanted to hide it. "It's because I love you. You are so beautiful and sexy, and you make me feel so alive when I am with you." He took a deep breath and knelt on the floor beside me, before hesitantly continuing, "I never wanted to hurt you Cherie, but I think of the future... and you are too much into your career to be the proper wife." "The 'proper' wife?" I repeated with undisguised incredulity. I had no idea what he meant by this, but I didn't want to. I was still shocked to hear such a phrase come out of Jean-Luc, and even more astonished at how he had made it sound like it was my fault that he went back to her. "So, because I've been a little distracted with my P-h-D lately," I enunciated each letter carefully to emphasise the importance of my doctorate and hint at the considerable demands of such an undertaking, "you think it's okay to shag another woman... or worse, make ME the 'other woman'?" I exhaled sharply. I could feel my nostrils flaring as I continued... still just gearing up on my rant: he was not getting off this hook lightly! "BULL... SHIT!" I yelled right in front of his face. Jean-Luc, to his credit, had the sense not to even try to respond to my (entirely justified) tantrum. I stood up and starting pacing the room, too worked up to sit still as I continued to interrogate him. I needed to take a few deep breaths to gather my thoughts before continuing. "When did you decide that you were going to propose to her? Was it just a spur of the moment decision earlier today? Did you just think to yourself," I put on a bad French accent "'hey I've got a nice antique diamond ring, I'll get Claire's name engraved on it. Jane won't mind me being late to meet her." The fake French accent slowly vanished as I exchanged pronunciation for volume; "And for that matter, Jane won't mind either if I STRAND her in a cottage in the middle of nowhere and FUCK her while I've got another girls named carved on an engagement ring!! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME JEAN-LUC?! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" I was in full rant mode and getting louder and louder as my tirade went on. I could feel my face getting redder as I yelled at him, my blood boiling. "I'M SORRY OKAY!!" he shouted back. "What more do you want me to say, I'm sorry. Okay?" I saw the tears well up behind his eyes as he finally met my gaze. I was still too much in shock and too angry to cry. "Sorry. You're sorry." I replied, in an eerily calm tone. "Well then that just solves everything, doesn't it? I don't know why I'm STILL pissed off so," the sarcasm dripping from every word as I paced the room again. "I mean you've said you're sorry, so now everything is suddenly magically better." I paused and took a deep breath, looking Jean-Luc over again, unable to keep the contempt from my voice as I continued my rant. "Sorry is just a word Jean-Luc. It doesn't mean anything to me that you're sorry - especially when the thing that you're the sorriest for is getting caught!" I took another deep breath. I was so angry I was shaking. "You know what you can do with your 'sorry' Jean-Luc?" I leaned in closer to him, carefully enunciating each word making sure nothing would be lost in translation, "you can take your 'sorry' and you can SHOVE... it... up... your... ASS!" I screamed that last word so loudly my throat hurt. He just stared down at his feet, unable to look at me. And unable, or unwilling - or possibly even a little afraid - to answer me back. With a frustrated sigh I stormed out of the living room, down the hall and into the bedroom. I couldn't stand to even look at Jean-Luc at that moment. I was so furious that I was starting to feel light-headed and dizzy. I had to get out of there. Even though it was already after 10pm, dark, cold and possibly even dangerous outside; I just had to leave. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was on the verge of a full scale panic attack! I quickly pulled off Jean-Luc's t-shirt and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I pulled on some clean socks and huffed out of the bedroom, into the living room, passed Jean-Luc and grabbed my coat and shoes. I put them on, while announcing at the same time that I was going for a walk. He didn't try to stop me. Part of me wanted him to. Actually, two parts of me wanted him to. Firstly, the part that was still in love with him and longed for him to show me any kind of consideration and affection - or at the very least some concern for my safety. And secondly, the part of me that was looking for a fight! But neither part received a satisfying response. A barely acknowledged 'okay' was all the response he could muster. I stormed out of his would-be 'fairytale' cottage into the night, allowing the doors to slam shut behind me but not actually deliberately banging them -- a subtle but powerful distinction, although one I'm not sure he realised. So off I went, in a big huff and a little panic down to the gate... and stopped. The gate was locked. Fuck! Back I went, now in a worse panic than before. And to make matters even worse, now I actually had to talk to the French git again to find out which key I needed to open the gate (that stupid gate was just a little bit too high for me to climb over... and besides I wanted to retain what little shred of dignity I might still have left!). Back down to the gate I trudged. In the darkness, and in my state of blind panic and fury, I couldn't get the key into the lock. Then, when I finally did, the blasted key wouldn't turn! There was no stop inside the barrel of the lock to let you know how far to insert the key. I tried again and again, pulling at the handle of the lock, banging shit out of the solid metal gate and praying hard to a god I'm not actually all that sure I believe in to get this stupid gate open and set me free! Eventually, a deep breath and a gentler touch allowed me to manoeuvre the key to the correct position within the lock and the gate opened. There was hope at last! I returned the keys to the house, throwing them on a table just inside the kitchen door, but not actually entering the house myself -- another subtle yet important distinction to point out. Third time lucky; I marched down the garden once again, out of the gate and into the tiny unknown French village with only a sparse sprinkling of street lights to guide my way. I headed for the main road away from the house, up the hill that I could not see beyond and told myself that I just needed to make it to the top of the next hill -- just over this close and inviting horizon and off into another world. All the time, I sobbed. I sobbed and cried out loud. But no-one heard me. There was no-one else there. And even if there was, would they care? I marched and sobbed my way up the hill, to where the street lamps ended and the lonely dark road began. The moon was not full, but there was enough of it there to guide me along this winding country road. The view of the stars was amazing: one of the few perks of being in the arsehole of nowhere in the pitch dark! I walked this lonely road, talking to myself (out loud!) asking the stars for their opinion on these latest events and confessing my troubles to them, telling them all about what this bad man had done. I wandered the road for quite a while; walking up to where the forest begins, back to the last street lamp and the same again. I was reminded, staring up at those stars, of being a very young girl and staring at the stars from my bedroom window. I remembered their calming effect and longed for it to envelope me once again. I thought about all my hopes and dreams when I was that idealistic young dreamer, wishing on a star... Then, I saw a shooting star and stopped still in my tracks. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes... and made a wish. I wished to be loved and to fall in love; to know the security and sublime happiness and contentment of a loving, caring, relationship -- something that I was foolish enough to think I had found with Jean-Luc. I wished for the courage to keep searching for my perfect partner, someone with whom I would be truly loved for being myself, someone who would celebrate my successes in my career with me rather than be intimidated by them. Most of all, I wished to find 'him'... sooner rather than later. Then I thought about Jean-Luc, this selfish guy whose life is in a big disorganised mess and asked myself, looking at the man for who he really is and not who I wanted him to be in my head, if this was really 'him'? And, in all honesty, I had to answer 'no'. After my walk, when I had finally calmed down enough to bear returning to the cottage, I came back to find Jean-Luc on the phone. I went straight back into the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind me. I sat on the side of the big bed, in the little room, feeling very isolated and alone. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted company. You know the expression 'not if he was the last man on Earth', well he was the only man, woman or dog in the vicinity that I could talk to. So, I did. I went and sat on the armchair in the living room. Jean-Luc had finished on the phone and was in the kitchen. I stared mindlessly into the fire until awoken from my trance by the mug of hot tea which hovered majestically in front of my face. "Black tea, with honey and milk. It's a little bit cold outside, I thought you might like something hot to drink" he said as I took the cup from him and muttered a quiet 'thanks' back. I held the mug of steaming tea in one hand and sipped it. Jean-Luc crouched beside the armchair, took my other hand and held it between his and quietly whispered in his annoyingly sexy French accent; "you're hands are freezing, Cherie." His hands were warm and inviting. He took my hand close to his lips and brushed them against my fingertips - almost kissing my fingertips but not quite. My heart reacted to this in a very nice, but deeply treacherous way. This was just too much for me, so I pulled my hand away. He asked me if I was okay but I didn't respond. I didn't know what to say to him; I was still somewhere between wanting to shout and hit him, and wanting to ignore him completely -- although I would like to think that I would not be childish enough to do either... again. Besides, I wanted to keep the little bit of dignity I had left. But even so, amidst the pain and the anger, there was still that little corner of my traitorous heart that would willingly melt in his arms and in his bed again. And if that ember should be teased correctly, I feared it would become an all-consuming flame. Damn him! And damn my stubborn heart for continuing to love him so. "I was just speaking to Jacques on the phone." Jean-Luc said softly, "He can come in the morning and collect you, if you want?" Jacques is Jean-Luc's older brother. "Or you can stay here, you are welcome to stay Cherie" he added quickly, placing his hand on my knee as he spoke. I could not sustain his gaze and I had to look away. I also had to fight the temptation to come back with some witty catty remark when he called me 'Cherie'. I was not his darling or his dear anymore. He was making an effort to be considerate though. I suppose it was the very least that he could do. "I would like to go home" I said quietly, "as soon as possible." "Okay. I'll call Jacques." And that was the end of our conversation. I finished my tea while Jean-Luc telephoned Jacques to make the arrangements. Now, there is something that I should explain to you: I love Jacques. And he loves me back. He is one of the most caring, loveable souls I have ever met in my entire life. And as if that wasn't enough, he is drop dead gorgeous too! We get along so well that he would seem to be the perfect guy for me in almost every way - except one. No, the problem is not that he's Jean-Luc's brother. After what Jean-Luc just did, I think the universe would forgive me if I wanted to have a fling with his hot brother. No, that's not the main barrier standing between me and Jacques becoming an item. You see, it's actually much simpler than that: Jacques, like most of the perfect men I seem to meet, is gay. He also happens to be in a deeply committed relationship with another annoyingly loveable perfect guy called Anton (the 6'4 German hunk!). There were not a lot of people I wanted to see or talk to right then, but Jacques was one of them. I knew he was someone that I could trust. Even if he did know about 'her' already, which I'm assuming he did, the fact that he didn't tell me was merely proof of his loyalty to his brother and is not something I could be angry with him about. Jacques was not the type of guy to betray anyone's confidence. Besides, I knew that this was not something Jacques would have approved of Jean-Luc doing, and I was sure that Jean-Luc would be hearing all about what Jacques thought of the situation! I showered and packed before heading to bed, so that I would be ready to leave when Jacques arrived. I hadn't actually talked with Jean-Luc about the sleeping arrangements, but I hoped it was fairly obvious to him that he would not be sharing a bed with me. Just in case, I took a pillow and a spare blanket from the bedroom and left them on the couch. I feel asleep surprisingly quickly, considering how stressful the evening had been. I guess between the bike trip to Reims, the sexcapades in front of the fire and the following emotional roller-coaster... I was just worn out! What a day! And, like the song says, what a difference a day makes... Just twenty-four little hours ago, I was cuddled up with Jean-Luc in this very bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe. What an idiot I was! In the middle of the night, I rolled over and in my sleep state snuggled into the warm body lying next to me in the bed. I'm not sure how long I lay on his chest, whether it was minutes or hours, before realising that I should have been sleeping alone that night. I forced my eyes to open when I realised this and was fully prepared to literally kick Jean-Luc out of the bed if necessary. Fortunately, before I started yelling and kicking, I realised that it wasn't Jean-Luc in the bed with me -- it was Jacques. I reached over to the nightstand to check the time on my watch; it was just after 4am. Jacques must've pretty much dropped everything and drove all the way out here to come to my rescue. I smiled and remembered why it was that I loved him so much -- he was just that kind of guy; the kind of guy who will drop everything and rush to help out a friend, even if it means driving half the night to do it! I lay back down beside him and put my head back on his chest, snuggling into him again. I was relieved that I had decided not to sleep naked that night -- that might've been awkward! Instead I slept in a t-shirt and panties, as did he -- well, boxer briefs in his case. He stirred a little as I cuddled him, and brought his arms around me. "Sorry for the intrusion, but the couch was taken." Jacques whispered softly as he cradled me gently in his arms. I laughed softly. "No problem, I'm just glad you're here. Thank you for coming so soon." "I had to make sure you were okay. Honestly, if he wasn't my baby brother, I'd kick the shit out of him. In fact, I might just do that anyway!" Jacques stopped himself before going any further with his rant. I was grateful for his support but an anti-Jean-Luc speech was not what I needed to hear at four o'clock in the morning, especially not from his own brother. "Are you okay, Jane?" "Honestly," I took a deep breath while considering his question, "I'm not sure. I just feel kind of drained at the moment." "I understand. You should sleep some more, we can talk on the drive back tomorrow." He craned his neck down and kissed the top of my head. Sometimes it almost felt like he was my big brother too. I hoped that we could remain such close friends in the wake of the break-up, but I doubted that that would be possible. "Jacques?" "Yes?" I hesitated before I spoke, but I wanted to get this out of the way "I understand why you didn't tell me about her. I'm not angry with you for being loyal to your brother. I wouldn't expect any less of you. You're a good guy and you've been a good friend to me. I just... I don't want you to worry about that, especially not after driving all the way out here in the middle of the night." I didn't know if it was a silly thing to say or not. But I needed a friend and I knew that if there was ever any hope of Jacques and I remaining friends that I would have to respect his relationship with his brother and not ask him to choose sides. Besides, I was sure he would side with his brother, even if he knew that it was the wrong side. That's what family does. "Thank you, Jane. I appreciate that." He gave me a little squeeze and kissed my head again. "But the truth is I didn't know that there was anything to tell. I knew he was seeing her again, but I thought that they were just friends... and I didn't know he was keeping it from you. He hid the true nature of their relationship from me too. I would not have stayed quiet about it for long if I'd known; but you're right, I wouldn't have told you myself... I would have made HIM tell you!" "Thanks." I kissed Jacques' chest through his t-shirt and snuggled him. Even though I would have understood Jacques siding with his brother, I was relieved to hear that he didn't know. That was one less betrayal (however minor) to cope with. I drifted back to sleep, feeling protected and loved and safe in Jacques' arms. The next morning Jacques drove me home. I didn't speak with Jean-Luc again. He made a few attempts to contact me; left me phone messages and sent me some e-mails but I didn't respond to any of them. The first few weeks were the most difficult. Jacques was a great help at first. He was really there for me and he cheered me up when I felt really down. But as the weeks went by, and the temptation to ask about Jean-Luc grew, I realised that being around Jacques was actually making it harder to get over Jean-Luc. I think Jacques realised it too. We saw each other less and less as time went by until... we just stopped calling each other altogether. I did my best to put them both out of my mind. I threw myself into my research and even started hanging out more with the other grad students from the research institute - and eventually managed to form a new circle of friends. But none of my new friends knew what had happened between Jean-Luc and I. Some new that I'd been dating a French guy I met when I first arrived in Paris, and I guess they figured the relationship had run its course. Two different guys from work asked me out, but I turned both of them down using the excuse that I didn't date guys I worked with. It was a lie. It sounded good nevertheless though, and they backed off with their feelings and their pride intact. Truth is: I just wasn't ready to date anyone new yet. In fact, I still wasn't sure that I was ready to meet anyone new, even when a handsome American tourist caught me staring at his ass outside a bistro a couple of months after Jean-Luc and I broke up -- on the very day he was supposed to marry another woman as it turned out. Jacques had mentioned the trip to Lyon and the date of the wedding to me in passing one day, without thinking. He apologised immediately for mentioning it. I knew he wasn't deliberately trying to upset me, so I of course forgave him. Even though we eventually stopped being friends, I never felt anything negative or held any kind of grudge against Jacques. He was always one of the good guys.