4 comments/ 29127 views/ 2 favorites My French Connection By: jacqui_hills_uk Andrew was going to be a short term solution. He was into all the boy things like beer, cars, football, and other girls and I came a good way down his list of interests. His Dad lasted a little longer (In more ways than one) but I think I became a nice source of young flesh for a shag, rather than a real relationship. My thoughts were more on A levels and getting good enough grades to get to university. Obviously, my thoughts weren't enough on them as I was forced to apply through the clearing system before I secured a place at a second rate British university, reading social sciences. As a result of having to go through the clearing system, I was late getting any accommodation and as home was 150 miles from the campus, I had to find some digs urgently. Mum and Dad helped a lot. They booked us all into a hotel for a long weekend and I could spend some time finding a suitable student flat. After a couple of futile days, we found a large 3 story house, or in fact two large houses, which had been converted to a number of large, well appointed self-contained flats. There was one going and we rushed round to see it. It wasn't the best – it lacked light as it was in the basement, but it was certainly spacious and would do me. It consisted of a large lounge/kitchen /diner, a separate bedroom, and a toilet & shower room. The landlord was a weasly looking middle-aged man who looked mean and grumpy, but he offered me a better flat once one became available. My Dad forked out for the deposit and the first four weeks rent. Just a week later and we made the same journey, this time with a car full of whatever I could beg, steal and borrow from my friends and relatives. After lugging the stuff into the flat, my Dad emptied his wallet into my grateful hands, gave me a big hug and left me to sort the flat into something I could call home. Three hours later I had put my clothes away, stuck up some arty posters, loaded up my larder and I was just contemplating some food when I was surprised by a knock on the door. My first thought was the "Weasel". I had seen him to pick up the keys when we first arrived, but I thought that he might be sniffing around looking for some way he could reduce my rent! It wasn't the Weasel. It was a couple from across the hall – living in a mirror image of my flat. He was in his early forties – she was perhaps a little younger. Both looked in good nick – he was dapper, elegant and looking a grey-tinged sort of distinguished. She was attractive – thinner than me but with a nice slim figure. He was also holding a bottle of champagne in his hand and a smile that would melt a polar ice cap. "Hello" he said in the most gorgeous French accent. They introduced themselves as Didier and Sandrine. "We saw you moving in and thought we'd welcome you to the mad house". They said. I was lost for words. I gaped at them, and managed to blurt out a "thanks" for their really sweet gesture. "Would you like to come to our flat for a drink?" I was more than happy – after only a few hours I was already starting to feel lonely and was contemplating the horrible thought of sloping off to the local pub on my own. I followed them into their flat and they opened the bubbly which they offered with some lovely nibbles. I didn't realise how hungry I was as I tucked into smoked salmon, the most gorgeous cheese and a variety of other bits. We spent the next hour or so in introductions. Didier was a lecturer in the History Faculty, majoring on modern European history. He was a fascinating and eloquent speaker and I really enjoyed his stories and anecdotes. Sandrine was a research assistant working in the university library. The bubbly gave way to wine and at about 7 we all made our way to the local pub. I don't know what it was, but I seemed to really enjoy their company – he was ebullient and great company – she was more reserved but she began to warm up and was confiding little secrets about the two of them before the evening was out. At about 10 we made our way back, rather unsteadily to the house. I was ready to say goodnight, but they insisted that I share their meal. A dark, rich stew – beef or some other sort of red meat was accompanied with delicious long grain rice. And a few bottles of wine. We sat on the floor, with our plates on a large wooden coffee table. I finished the delicious meal and made my way rather unsteadily to the toilet. As I made my way back I looked at the contents of the large bookcase as Didier and Sandrine finished their second helping. The books were mostly French, and a row of videos took my interest. All were home made – they looked like recordings of films taped from the TV. Three videos marked S/D looked more intriguing. Sandrine told me to pick out a video to watch if I wanted and I instinctively took out "SD1". I slipped it into the video player and the tv flicked silently to life. I returned to my glass of wine and I suddenly realised that Sandrine and Didier had suddenly stopped eating and were looking intently past my shoulder at the large tv screen. There was a look of horror on Sandrine's face and I turned to look at the video. It was a quite intimate video of the two of them making love. No, that was too mild. It was a quite explicit, very close up view of Sandrine giving a blow job to, I assumed, Didier. My face went bright red. I opened my mouth to apologise but Didier and then Sandrine started laughing. "We have a very tender loving relationship" said Sandrine. "And we like to record out lovemaking. We find it extremely erotic and stimulating". I watched the beautiful way she licked around the head of his cock, then down the length of his shaft and took each of his balls into her mouth before she reversed direction and took his complete length into her lovely mouth. I too found it extremely erotic and very stimulating. I wondered about offering to turn if off but they didn't seem to be at all bothered that a 19 year old girl who they had know for barely 4 hours was watching an explicit video of their lovemaking. I watched, entranced, for minutes. She was bobbing her head up and down, letting her mouth accommodate his cock deep down into her throat. Her hands worked on his balls and backside and I could tell that he wasn't going to last too long with what seemed like expert ministrations. As he started to ejaculate she removed her mouth and worked his orgasm with her hand around the base of his cock. His sperm shot over her face – some into her mouth, but most over her cheeks, red from her exertions. I could hear the joy of his release as she continued to milk the creamy essence from his hairy balls. I had seen porn videos. I had seen amateur ones. But never before in front of the two stars who were virtual strangers to me. I remembered to breathe. I had almost stopped as I was mesmerised watching the intensity of the orgasm. When it had finished he lowered his head, which I saw for the first time and they kissed, deeply and passionately. He licked off his cum from her face gently and they giggled like teenagers. I knew I was aroused. I could feel the dampness and heat from between my legs. I turned towards my hosts, who seemed similarly aroused as they were in a warm embrace, kissing and caressing each other. I felt very awkward. But they seemed to realise and broke off. We were close to each other and Sandrine reached over to me. "Are you ok?" she asked. "Would you like me to turn if off?" "No!" I responded, perhaps a little too quickly. "It is lovely. It is very ………" I was lost for words. "It is very passionate" I said weakly. She pulled me towards her and put her hand behind my head. She gently pulled me to her face and we kissed. Softly, just on the lips. She smiled and looking deep into my eyes and said "Jacqui, we really like you". We kissed again and Didier moved closer towards us. He was clearly aroused as the bulge in his chino's showed. He kissed me and I responded, with greater passion that the earlier kiss. His hand went to my breasts and Sandrine turned her attention on the bulge. She was unzipping his pants and Didier's hands explored my upper body. His hand reached under the loose top I was wearing and somehow opened the clasp of my bra. He pulled off my top and let my bra fall to the ground. His hot mouth kissed my engorged nipples in turn. I looked down to see Sandrine take his erect cock into her mouth and I felt incredibly horny as my breasts were licked and sucked and I watched, this time for real, as this incredible woman used her mouth to satisfy his desires. As I looked down she took his cock deep into her mouth and looked up to me. The look in her eyes was potent. She wanted me to help her and I moved my head down beside her. She released his cock and I took him into my mouth. He was sitting, legs apart with his back against the sofa. We were positioned either side of him, heads down licking him, sucking him in turn, occasionally stopping to kiss each other. I was on my knees and I felt hands between my legs. I was wearing shorts and his hand entered rubbing the moist material of my pants and my tender skin beneath. I continued sucking his cock. Sandrine seemed to lose interest and moved away from his cock. I swapped sucking for licking the area around his tip, the head of his cock, tracing the purples veins of his cock down to his balls which I took into my mouth. Then hungrily back to his cock, bobbing faster and deeper. Then I felt a hand pulling off my shorts. And panties. Fingers traced down the length of my wet lips, and then gently started to enter me. I felt a second finger inside me now pushing deeper inside. As the fingers worked inside and out of me, knuckle rubbing against my clit, I let out a cry and started to sense the start of Didier erupting. I took his cock deep inside my mouth and felt his cum explode inside my mouth. I struggled to swallow his salty, milky spunk, and it spilled over my face and down my neck. I continued sucking him, enjoying the feeling of his orgasm in my mouth. As he pulled apart from me he pushed me to the ground, turning me onto my back. I suddenly realised that the fingers inside me belonged to Sandrine, not Didier and as I landed, her fingers were replaced by her mouth, her tongue expertly licking my pussy. The feeling was unbelievable. Her tongue flicked at my clit as she buried her fingers inside my sopping wet cunt. I was almost on the edge – she seemed to know and was keeping me at boiling point. At some point my legs were raised and a finger started to rub around my tight ass hole. As my ass was invaded, slowly at first I nearly came, but Sandrine seemed to sense this and stopped the lovely licking of my clit. A finger was now deep inside my ass, using the dripping juice from my pussy as lubricant. When she returned her tongue to my clit I immediately orgasmed. I cried out again and again as she worked her tongue and fingers on my clit and deep inside my wet cunt. The feeling was just intensified with the addition of a finger in my ass. I don't know how long it lasted but by the time they had finished and took up their wine glasses, I was exhausted and I lay flat on my back, legs open, my thighs covered with the sticky emissions of my sex. My breathing slowed down and I could see the look of pleasure on both of their faces as they looked down at my naked and pleasured body. Nobody spoke for minutes. We just sat or lay in silence. I broke the ice by asking, in my cutest voice possible "Why the hell aren't you two frogs naked like me?" They laughed and, with a little help, joined me in my natural state. As they started to kiss I watched them and considered that I had just enjoyed my first sex with a woman and my first proper three-some! We moved to their delicious king sized bed and I watched them perform a little 69. However, Sandrine pulled away and became insistent. I couldn't understand as she spoke in French. However, Didier laughed and told me that she insisted that he was too quick. She wanted me to go down on her and eat her slowly. I slowly moved into position between her milky white thighs and lowered my head. I could smell the intoxicating aroma from her aroused, wet pussy and I looked at her. "I have never done this before" I said. "Mon cherie" she responded with a wicked grin. I went down on her and blew on her pussy, up and down her glistening lips. I moved towards her pussy, she was trimmed with light fluffy hair and I kissed around her mons before I made my way slowly towards her lips. After licking around her sex, I finally decided I could wait no longer and parted her lips with my fingers. My tongue tasted her as I slowly licked her from her bottom to the top of her most delicious cunt. I trailed my tongue slowly over her clit making her shudder with delight which I enjoyed feeling with her. As I played with her, I could feel Didier's hand on my bum, rubbing his hands over them. He could not resist playing with my pussy and I eagerly opened my legs to allow his expert fingers inside me. But it wasn't his fingers that he had in mind. He soon knelt behind me and slipped his cock inside my pussy. His cock filled me, and he withdrew, slowly. He entered quicker this time, making sure the movement inside rubbed against my clit. I lapped at Sandrine's hot cunt as I was fucked by his majestic French cock. His fingers again found my ass hole and used my juice to loosen my anus. Before I could think, he withdrew from my cunt and pressed his wet, hard, hot cock against my bum hole. He applied firm but even pressure and slipped slowly inside me. As he started to fuck my ass I could feel Sandrine start the urgent contractions of her first orgasm, brought about with my fingers and especially my tongue. Didier was fucking my ass hard now and it wasn't long before he too was injecting my ass with jets of his sperm. I was close to coming and Didier pressed his finger hard on my clit and I came again. The rest of the night, and most of next day was spent in bed together. Making love. Making videos. Didier and Sandrine were my truest friends at University. I had a number of boyfriends, but I spent many happy hours, and many happy orgasms with my French lovers. Sadly, it only lasted five months. One day, after returning from a weekend away there was a parcel and note leant against my door. The note simply said: "Jacqui, we are so sorry, but I have a problem with my job. We have decided to return to France immediately. We will try to get in contact when we are settled." I rushed to their flat – I had my own key and I opened the door. The flat had been emptied of all of their possessions. They had fled. Quickly. I sat on the floor and cried. Even the weasel came up and tried to comfort me. I opened the parcel and found a video with SD1 written upon it. I asked around at the University but little information was forthcoming. About three months later I went out with a lecturer from the same department as Didier – he mentioned some financial irregularities. Only later, when he shared my bed did he tell me that Didier had got one of the senior professor's daughter pregnant. I smiled. I suddenly dived under the covers, and in memory of Didier and Sandrine I gave him the best blow job he'd ever had. My French Connection It's early. Wednesday morning. My coffee is sweet and creamy, but I don't need it today to ready me for the day. As I wait for the shower water to warm, I pull off the T-shirt I wore to bed. I take my time -- my mind is swimming with anticipation of getting to know my new French friend, which lends itself to a long sudsy shower. I envision his hands, as I massage the lavender shower gel into my slippery tits, as I stand under the running water. After 15 minutes of self-massage, I being myself back to reality - I must get going. "Lunch with the girls" is all I can think about now on this spring day. With that in mind, I exit the shower and dry off. I wrap the soft fluffy towel around my body and begin the search for attire suitable for the office, but more conducive to the leisurely lunch I have planned with that beautiful stranger in the park. I pick out my size four jeans and a white camisole. My jeans are tight, but stylish. I slip on the camisole, shake the dripping water from my hair, and look in the mirror. Damn I look good. I know I look too good for work, but I don't care about professionalism today. I can get away with it -- who is going to complain? I decide to let my hair dry naturally. I'll hate it later, waves upon waves of thick red hair, but I'll deal with that after lunch. A bit of make up to go with my "casual" look, a jacket, and I am ready for the office. I enter the office and immediately pass Staci, who is already busy at her computer monitor researching, "Hey, girl, remember we're going to lunch today!" Staci is always bored at work, her talents being totally wasted. "I'm ready now, let's go. And from the looks of it -- you are too! You're bad!" Staci snickers. "What are you talking about?" I ask her with the wicked smile that she understands too well. "Hmm. Where are we going again?" She asks smiling. "Just to the park to walk the trail -- it's a beautiful day and I don't want to miss it." I reply. "Uh, yeah, you don't fool me! I'll see you at noon." Staci rolls her eyes and goes back to her research. The next three hours are almost agonizing as I continue to watch the clock. I try to concentrate on the report I am working on, but it isn't due for another week. 30 minutes down - 2 ½ hours to go. Oh my God, can time go any slower, I ask out loud to no one in particular. My desk is in the back of the office. Not really an office really, but my cubicle is as confidential as it can be without giving the impression that I am "important." My mind wanders to beautiful places, beautiful moments, that beautiful French smile. I surf the web dreaming of paradises far away. My boss approaches my desk in the fervor that is "Michael". He is a great guy, but young and "on-track" for promotion. Some days, the deadlines get to him and he can begin to feel a little "overwhelmed". It is my job to keep him settled, calm, and on-time with his presentations and cases. He can be a bear some days, but for the most part, I will do anything for him, because I know he will take me to the top with him. I checked my calendar yesterday in anticipation of a long-lunch today, and was happy to see that all deadlines were satisfied, but I jumped as Michael drops a file on my desk and exclaims "I need you to do this during lunch." "I can't." I reply. "What?! You never tell me "you can't." He stammers in total exasperation. "Oh no, Michael. Not today little man." I look him straight in the eye and without hesitation or question, state "I can't. I won't. You pick, I don't care. I have plans." As he walks away sulking and puzzled, I am shocked at my deliberate defiance, and watch as he walks away dumbfounded. I look at the clock -- uugh - two hours still! I begrudgingly grab the file and write the memo he wants. It is simple, but no need to tell him that. I'll slide it on his desk as I head out for lunch and he won't care that I will be late. The clock strikes 11 and instantly my heart skips a beat. I feel my face flush. Am I nervous or just plain excited? I knew when I woke up today that it was going to be a good day. When I saw the sun beaming through the blinds, I knew that today was going to be the day for the best lesson in French, from my new friend. In an effort to pass the time (and not afford the opportunity to be assigned any new tasks) I walk around the office and chitchat with my associates. Nothing interesting, but it passes the time. It is now 11:45. I call Staci. "Can we go now?" I ask overly enthused. "You are crazy, you know that, right?" She asks as she shakes her head. She is familiar with my mind after all these years and knows without a doubt that when I make up my mind, there is no rationalizing or changing it. "I have absolutely NO idea of what you speak!" I unconvincingly reply. I call the front desk, "Sharon, hold our calls, we're going to lunch." When we get off the elevator, the guard turns and eyes me. I drop my eyes and walk by slightly smiling. "You know you are not fooling anyone with that act, right?" Staci says. "It's fun and he's young and dumb" I reply as we leave the building. Staci decides to drive, which is fine with me, I really don't plan on returning to work today. We arrive at the park and Staci stops the car. "Why aren't you parking? I ask. "Get out of here, girl. You don't want me anywhere near where you are going. I'll tell Michael you fell on the trail and went home for the day." I smile, "Thanks, girl, take my jacket, you're the best." "I know. Amusez-vous!" she replies as she waves her hand to shoo me out of her car. I close the door and begin my walk. It's a beautiful day. I've walked this trail before. A few times actually, but today is different. I've decided that today is the day, although I am not really in control, I just convince myself that I am. I walk around the bend. The park is not empty, but the people here at this time just want a break from work. They are not concerned with anyone but themselves. I am only concerned with one person. I know he is close. My heart skips again as I peer over the azalea bushes and he is there. Of course he is, he hasn't disappointed me yet. I walk around through the break in the bushes. He looks up from his book and smiles he runs his hand through his jet black hair. The sun is high this time of day and he has removed his shirt to catch some rays. I bite my lip as I notice his glistening tanned skin. My nipples instantly harden and brush against the silky fabric. I place my hands behind my back as I approach him, the fabric stretched tight across my breasts. His eyes never leave mine. What a gentleman, but he knows he will have what he wants soon enough. He has brought a blanket today and pats his hand beside him tapping it masterfully, offering the empty space to me. I smile and ask if he has time for another lesson. "Of course, I do. It is why I come here!" he replies. His French accent is a melody to my ears. I sit next to him and gently reach for the book he is holding, my hand covering his. I feel his hand; it is strong. I feel his skin; it is smooth. He releases the book to my control and drops his hand to my thigh. I look at his chest as I reach down and slide his hand from my thigh to the area between my legs. He can't tell through my jeans, but I am wet and my pussy is begging for him. He leans close, our shoulders touching and whispers "I thought you came here for a lesson." I push my hair behind my ear as I whisper back "I did. Teach me whatever you think I need to know about French." His hand slides down my thigh slowly and then back up before squeezing my inner thigh. I continue to hold the book as he continues to softly whisper to me. I can't understand the words, but the soft tone of his voice, the heat of his breath, and the touch of his hand totally absorbs me. His hand moves up to caress my cheek before he runs his fingers through my thick red hair as he turns my head toward him. His hand runs the length of my neck; his thumb traces my bottom lip. I can taste the salt of his skin. I close my eyes, allowing the tingling sensation to overtake my senses. When I open my eyes he is smiling, the light dancing in his eyes. He stands and offers me his hand "Come with me" he commands in a very gentle voice. I obey. I didn't come here to resist, how could I? As my hand meets his and he guide me off the blanket, our bodies meet. My hips against his, I am acutely aware of the bulge of his manhood, as he is no doubt aware of the heat my body is radiating for him. My chest swells as my breasts are pressed against his bare chest. The silky fabric of my blouse is the only thin barrier between us. His hand slides from the small of my back and down to tap my ass. He releases me as I catch my breath. As he bends down to retrieve the book and blanket, I notice the muscles of his back - strong, smooth, and inviting. He grabs my hand and we walk. He tries to teach me how to count in French. I can't quite get the words correct, but he watches the way my lips move as I try. By the time we reach the number eight, we are approaching a townhouse across from the park. As he reaches in your pocket for the key, he pulls me close to his bare chest. I can feel his breath in my soul as my eyes close. "Do you want to come in?" he whispers thickly in my ear. Between breaths, I manage to get the reply out "I could use a glass of water." My heart is racing, my words catch in anticipation. He opens the door and I notice we are stepping into the kitchen. What lies beyond is intriguing to me, but exploring his world will have to wait. I am immediately backed against the kitchen table and as he lifts me onto it; my hands instinctively go to his arms. There is hunger in his eyes and now I am HIS prey. He kisses my neck, my ears, and my shoulder while his hands become entangled in my wavy wild hair. My legs are around his waist as he grinds his throbbing cock against my pussy. He gently pulls my hair down my back to expose my throat as he feverishly kisses and whispers heavy into my ear. All of it French, all incomprehensible to me, but beautiful just the same. I am completely submissive to his lips, his tongue, and his breath against my skin. He begins to slow his feast as he makes his way from the base of my neck to my earlobe, my cheek. Our lips meet for one long gentle closed mouth kiss before we can take it no more. The fever has taken over both of us as our tongues search deep and only close to taste the sweet nectar of each other. My legs are tight around him, my arms around his neck, my pussy aches for him to enter me. Our hands fight for dominance as we both reach down to unbutton each other's jeans. I slide off the table and stand before him as he pulls them free from my legs. Without a moment to cool down, we are back together, his arms pulling the camisole over my head. Our bare skin together is hot and smooth. My nipples against his skin are hard as he holds me tight, kissing passionately, forcefully, but with no resistance. With a few steps I am backing him to the couch. As he sits, my knees are on the cushions, straddling, mounting him. I won't let him enter me yet. He takes one breast in his hand as his lips encompass the nipple on the other; a small bite before he takes it into his mouth. I can feel his tongue swirl the nipple. My hips are soft on his; his cock is pressed hard against my clit as I move my body up and down his smooth hard shaft. It's so wet and we are so ready. He lifts me up to enter me -- he can wait no longer. He penetrates me with a gentle force as I cry out with pleasure. I continue to ride him softly, but fully taking his cock completely in with each movement. I feel his balls harden with every thrust as he gets closer and closer to fulfillment. Our lips cannot be satiate as we continue to twist our tongues. My moans of delight become louder. With one twist my back is now on the couch, my hands on his shoulders. He kisses the inside crease of my elbow as he thrusts faster, every thrust deeper. I begin to cum, my juices oozing freely between my legs, soaking his cock as my body rises to meet his cock with every thrust. My body shakes, my hands grab his back, as every entry feels deeper. He can feel me pulsing, feel the blood pumping, my pussy squeezing his cock, my soft moans take him to new heights. He takes my hard, sweet, nipple in his lips, and bites hard as he orgasm. The passion and fervor of our bodies and our emotions completely satiated as we continue to kiss, our fingers dancing on the other's skin, softly soaking in the moment, a memory for later, or the beginning of something more to come...