5 comments/ 48025 views/ 0 favorites My French Holiday By: mandywilluk2000 They were the two most beautiful young men I’d ever seen. Both tall, around six feet, and slim they had the olive complexion, brooding eyes and floppy dark hair that characterises so many young French men. I’d learned they were both studying at university, English and Business Studies, they’d told me. In the summer they came back home to the village near Deauville to work as waiters in a local restaurant. On a whim I’d decided to take a break at a friend’s house on France. Kevin, my ex had negotiated as part of the divorce settlement that he could take Sarah, our fourteen year old daughter, on a three week holiday every other year. I hated being without her but was powerless to resist when he’d said he was taking her to Australia via Singapore and back through Bali. I knew that in some ways it was good for her for. Despite the acrimony of a divorce brought about by his persistent unfaithfulness, we’d tried very hard together to make the trauma as harmless as possible for her and I’d let him have quite generous access.. The thought, however, of three weeks alone in the Docklands apartment with all the memories of Sarah around me was horrible. So I phoned Marcia and asked if I could use her house in Deves, a tiny village twenty or so miles inland form the famous French resor of Deauvillet. I’d been there once before with Kevin visiting Marcia and Bill and had though it to be idyllic, but we’d only stayed one night on our way back from the St Tropez. She readily agreed saying, “stay as long as you like no one will be using it for weeks yet.” I’d driven down in my new BMW using the train through the channel tunnel from Folkestone to Calais. The roads had been radically improved since the last time I’d been there and I was surprised to find myself driving through Deauville no more than two hours after disembarking from the train. I did some shopping and then set off down the back roads for Deves. The village and the house were every bit as lovely as I’d remembered and I settled in quite quickly. I reacquainted myself with the four bedrooms, the quite extensive gardens and small swimming pool. I explored the house noting how well furnished and appointed it was but wasn’t surprised for both Marcia and Bill had great taste and oodles of money. I felt that I was going to enjoy myself and soon found I was able, albeit a little guiltily, to put Sarah out of mind, most of the time. I’d gone to the restaurant the first time on the recommendation of the old lady in the local boulangerie. She told me when I bought my bread the next day that it was the best in town, not surprisingly, I later learned, as it was owned by her cousin. It was a small, very typical French country restaurant. More like the front room of someone’s house really. Just eight or so tables it had a limited menu and was very much a locals place to eat. I saw Luc and Richard the first night I went there. They served me the most delicious meal at the most ridiculously low price. Although we passed some pleasantries, after I found to my relief they spoke perfect English, acquired I subsequently understood from having learned it from the ages of five and from having spent a year in Bournemouth and London as part of the course. We didn’t say much that first night. Although there were other restaurants in the village there’s was at the end of the main road nearest to the house that was a couple of kilometres outside the town. I didn’t want to drive for I liked to accompany my meal with a bottle of wine and I’d seen quite a few local gendarmerie around, so I walked. “Hello again,” Luc said brightly as I walked in,, “ table for one is it?” “Yes please,” I replied feeling pleased he’d remembered me. “Hi,” I heard from behind me, “welcome back.” It was Richard coming out of the kitchen holding two plates for the only other diners in there. I sat down and Luc came over and with the rather blunt way of the French he told that I was almost too late for dinner as the restaurant closed at nine and it was nearly eight thirty now. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realise,” as I remembered how quirky restaurant opening hours can be in many of the off the beaten track areas of France. “No problem but we do run out so you may not have much choice, I’m afraid. We only have a very small menu of choices the chef gets in the market each day,” Richard explained brightly. “That’s ok, what do you have?” “Let me check with the chef.” He went away and returning after a few minutes explained that there was either guinea fowl or fish. I chose the former with goats cheese and rocket salad as a starter and a bottle of the local white wine. As I waited Richard came up a couple of times bringing the bread, some olives and the wine. He was friendly asking whether I was on holiday and I told him I was explaining where I was staying. “Oh right Bill and Marcia’s house?” He told me that they often came in here and that he liked them both very much. Just as he was saying that Luc delivered my starter and Richard told him where I was staying. “That’s Marcia’s house isn’t it? Luc asked, aAdding, “they really are lovely people, they come in here a lot and we’ve got to know them well.” “Yes I’ve told her that,” Richard said pushing Luc jokingly as he went on, “she knows we think they’re lovely.” As we were all l laughing the four other people in the restaurant left. Richard poured me the wine to taste and then they left me to get on with the starter. It was absolutely gorgeous as was the guinea fowl and the soft tort dessert. In fact everything was wonderful. One of them brought me coffee and the other offered me the house after dinner drink which was an aniseed tasting liquor. They stood around as I sipped the coffee and the drink and we chatted with them explaining what they did and why they spoke English so well. They were easy ttalk to and seemed interested in England and me so the time passed quickly. They gave me another drink and had a couple themselves pulling chairs up to my table. “I’d better be going,” I said after at least an hour had passed after I’d finished dinner, adding, “I thought you closed at nine.” “We do really but that’s just for food and the locals. For others and especially for pretty women we have no hours,” Luc said smiling broadly. I liked the flattery of course and I sat chatting to them for another half hour or so before I said I’d have to go. I suppose a little nervous thinking of the couple of kilometres walk down the dark street so I was relieved when they said they’ run me home as it was on their way to the small flat they shared in a large farmhouse set back in the woods behind the town. It became my regular. I ate there for the next couple of evenings having the most delicious basic French food prepared and cooked to perfection yet in a simple manner that only the French seem able to get away with. I spent my days walking in the hills and woods, taking drives into Deauville and Honfleur and visiting the beaches and war graves of the Normandy landings. I’d brought my PC with me so I did some writing and kept up to speed with my e-mails and with work and I had the pool so I could swim and top up my tan in the solitude of Marcia’s garden. It was tranquil, beautiful, restful, interesting and fucking boring. I had so much time on my hands, I met so few people, I got sick of woods and hills and if I saw another war grave I think I’d have screamed. I was dying for some fun, some adventure and thrills, some excitement, anything to break the bloody boredom of what I was doing. I began looking forward to my evening meal more than anything else. At least there I got to have some intelligent conversation. And I was getting to know Richard and Luc as well as the chef Henri quite well. They seemed to like having me around so as well as having dinner there most of the first week as that ended I began popping in for a coffee in the mornings. That relieved the bloody boredom a bit. On about the fifth evening we sat chatting longer than usual sharing a bottle of wine. Just the three of us, Henri had gone, “to see his hooker,” Luc had said laughing. “Really?” I asked, surprised at how open he was. “Yes of course, a man like Henri has to have his pleasures doesn’t he?” Luc stated in a very matter of fact fashion. Laughing, Richard added, “and what woman would havehim other than for money?” We all joined it the laughter and I said, “oh that’s not fair or kind Richard.” “No but it’s true Amanda, could you imagine being in bed with his fat sweaty body?” “Well no I couldn’t,” I agreed the vision of the chubby, short Henri, naked coming into my mind. Then out of the blue Luc said, “ “Do you imagine the body of anyone in bed with you Amanda?” I didn’t know quite how to answer such a blunt, open and personal question so I sipped my wine silently. “Well? Richard asked smiling, “do you Amanda?” “Sometimes I do yes,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment. “Who do you imagine in bed with you?” Luc asked resting his fingers lightly on my wrist. “Oh you wouldn’t know him,” I muttered lightly. “Oh I feel disappointed,” he smiled looking right into my eyes. The enormity to me of what he was saying made me feel a little funny but as he laughed making light of it I thought that possibly he was joking or that I’d got the wrong end of the stick. In bed later that evening the conversation came back to me and I suddenly felt so lonely and frustrated. It had been several months since I’d lain in a man’s arms and many more since I’dbeen in the arms of a man that I felt a lot for. Months of sexual deprivation, of longing and wanting but not wishing to put myself through the agonies of an affair. Months of missing the feel and touch of a man, his roughness and his hardness. Months of frustration and months of using the substitute for that which I recognised I was starting to use now. As my hands found my breasts and as my fingers pinched my nipples so the feelings welled up so very quickly. As I caressed and cupped my full, sensitive 35 d cup breasts so my body was filled withla longing that I knew I would have to satisfy. As I did that. As my fingers found my wetness and gyrated that wonderful piece of gristle so I did visualise someone in that bed with me. I did imagine I was not alone and that it was a man giving me the shuddering feelings. But it was not a man I knew, well not sexually. And it was not a clear vision. The edges were blurred, it was a combination. Flashes of different men. Two different men. Yes I was in bed with an amalgam of Luc and Richard. I felt a little foolish as I showered after having a remarkaby strong orgasm. Not silly at having done that for, after all, it’s natural isn’t it? Well at least it’s natural when your body is as starved of sexual gratification as mine is. No, foolish at visualising being in bed and making love with such a young man, one, biologically at least, who could be my son. But it hadn’t been one man had it? No it had been both of them, well not actually both at the same time, that was ridiculous. No it had been each of them at different times. The vision had been of Luc holding me for a while only for his features to fade out to be replaced by Richard’s face on my breasts. At one time it was his back who my arms were around and then Luc’s hips around which I wrapped my legs. Richard holding me as my orgasm soared out of control and Luc comforting me as it subsided. As I went to the restaurant the next evening I felt slightly embarrassed at the thoughts I’d had of my two friends. Two young men just pleased to have the chance to use their English and happy to show off their restaurant to me. Two good looking guys that could have the pick of any of the stunningly attractive young, slim French girls I’d seen around this and the adjoining villages. That I, a thirty eight year old divorced woman with a daughter nearer to their ages than I was, could even entertain such rude and outrageous thoughts appaled and slightly frightened me. “Was I becoming so frustrated,” I wondered, “that my mind could imagine such things? Would the inevitable increase in the feelings of denied sex make me think about even more and more outrageousacts?” They’d told me that there was going to be a little party in the restaurant that evening. A local’s birthday so it would be more formal than usual. The French, even in the country can be quite dressy I’d noted on such occasions. “You look fantastic Mandy,” Luc said quietly as he showed me to my usual table near to the window. Holding my seat out for me and flicking the napkin undone I felt his eyes roam over my body bringing back the visions I’d had in bed about him the night before. The white silky dress I was wearing was tight across my breasts and high at the front but plunged down at the back almost to my bra strap. It was slightly above my knee and had slits up each side to round about mid thigh. I wasn’t wearing stockings or tights of course and my tanned legs were set off nicely by the white of the dress. I’d even painted my toe nails that poked out from the strappy, mid-height heeled shoes. I felt that I did look good but Luc’s compliment was still reassuring and welcome. “Oh Amanda,” I heard Richard say equally softly as he brought the bread and olive oil, “ how pretty and wonderful, what a gorgeous dress, you look magnificent.” As they both stared at me I felt myself blush a little. I was also acutely aware that my nipples were hardening and I saw them staer at them before discretely looking away. There was no doubt, though, that they had seen them and that just made me blush even more. The party of ten, three other couples and one other old man by himself filled the restaurant and it was noisier and much busier than it had been any other night. Although this meant that the two of them had their hands full they still paid me lots of attention lingering at my table either alone or together on many occasions. As usual we chatted easily but this time there seemed to be more intensity about their words that seemed to more and more come round to rather intimate matters. More compliments on my dress and figure, questions about what I got up to in London, remarks that were flattering if a little near to the mark at times. I put it down to the way of the French who can be amazingly blunt and too the point, especially about topics that most other races would consider too delicate to discuss. They had music playing tonight, something that hadn’t happened before. And yes, it w as the typically French, Stefano Grappelli, Django Rheinhardt and Edith Piaf stuff. As the other diners finished their meals and after Luc and Richard had cleared away and brought out loads of wine and beer the tables were pushed back a little and the people from the party began to dance. I thought of leaving and letting them get on with that but they wouldn’t hear of it and quickly I found myself dancing with one of the party. It was fun, I enjoyed it and I danced and chatted to the party of people as best as my broken French and their little English would permit. With the kitchen now cleaned up Luc and Richard joined in and I danced with both them. Rather energetic jiving with one and shimmying on the spot to quite fast music with the other. Around ten the main party started leaving and then there was just the three of us left. Richard poured us each some Calvados and put on an Edith Piaf’s greatest hits CD. Luc took my hand and pulled me up into the centre of the room as her haunting voice filled the place. In his arms he pulled me close, far more closely than decorum usually suggests. So close I could feel his body against mine from our heads that were touching across our chests and stomachs and down the front of our thighs. Although the slow music indicated hardly any movement was required it was a provocative and very sensual dance. It made me feel a little light-headed, made my heart beat a little faster and it gave me a feeling of slight excitement. As I felt his fingers trailing across the bare skin of my back and as the most famous Piaf number, Je ne Rien Regrets, oozed around the room so my head started to swim. “Do you have regrets Amanda,” he whispered right into my ear. “How do you mean Luc?” I asked. “About your marriage, about your divorce about not having a man?” “Of course,” I replied a little hesitantly, “we all have regrets don’t we?” “Yes but I was asking about your regrets wasn’t I? Are you happy with your life, being alone and all that?” he persisted again taking our conversation down very personal lines. “I have some,” I said softly feeling in part a little concerned at the intimacy of the questioning but also comforted that we’d become so close that we could discuss such things. His hands were moving on me. Not quickly or overtly suggestive but slowly around my back and waist. “And what are they if I may ask?” he breathed as one hand slid a little further down to rest just where the cheek of my bottom balloons out from beneath my waist. He softly rubbed me there. The feeling through the thin dress as my body was pressed against his was disturbing. “Oh it’s all so complicated Luc, too long a story to go into now,” I replied avoiding answering him but enjoying his emrace. “I think it’s my turn now,” I heard Richard say as he came and stood beside us. I danced with each of them twice. Both whispered questions and compliments to me and each of them lightly caressed my body. It was heady stuff indeed. They gave me a lift home seeming to completely ignore the drink driving laws. “What are you doing tomorrow Mandy?” Richard asked as I got out of the car. “I haven’t anything planned,” I replied They said that tomorrow, Sunday, when the restaurant was closed, as it was on Wednesdays as well, oddly but then it was France, would I like to spend the day with them visiting a market in a town some twenty kilometres away? I was pleased to agree. We had a lovely day. I drove for they only had a beaten up old Peugeot. We had a walk round the market with me buying a few bits and pieces for the flat and some clothes for Sarah, had lunch at a restaurant overlooking a beautiful lake and then wandered round the lake in the dense pine forest. As we walked we held hands, me in the middle. We sat on the bank and chatted letting the warm sun beat down on us and we paddled in the cool waters. They both took their tops off and I pulled my loose flowing voile skirt up to let the sun get to my legs. We laughed and joked and told each other about our lives. As we lay side by side on the pine needles, I explained about my divorce with both of them saying how mad Kevin must have been to have strayed away from me. I told them how things change during a long term relationship that neither of them could have experienced. But still they insisted that he was crazy to, as Luc put it, “Abandon the comforts I had.” I laughed saying, “what do you mean comforts?” Was I fishing for compliments I wondered as Richard replied? “Well your beauty and your body. You are a beautiful woman Amanda.” I felt a little uncomfortable at such blatant compliments with such obvious undertones but knowing they were said sincerely and with the Gallic charm of their race I simply smiled at them and said, “Now, now, not too much flattery you’ll make me feel big headed. “But it’s true,” Luc went on raising himself on one elbow and looking down at me. “You are wonderfully good looking Amanda, you don’t look your age and you have, er, a magnificent figure.” I didn’t know what to say being so unused to such forthright views. Richard continued. “It’s true you have the body of a younger woman and the face of an angel.” That made me laugh for it was going a little far but the words also had other effects on me. After all what woman wouldn’t be flattered by having two young, French men extol her virtues? It made me feel warm towards them and, I have to admit, a little aroused. My French Holiday “Oh, Richard, Luc.” I said softly, “you are both so kind.” I paused and for some unexplainable reason added, “but so young.” “Why the hell did I say that?” I thought as they both moved closer to me. “Yes we are young,” one of them was saying, “but we know life Amanda.” The other added in a low voice, “ and being French we also know about love and beauty as well.” I didn’t know how to respond to that. I was becoming a little flustered. Were they coming onto me? What were they implying? I wondered as I lay there partly very relaxed and partly, I realised, a little tense from all this attention. Their words flowed over me, they seemed to almost hypnotise me. The combination of what they said, their so sexy French accents and the closeness of their bare torsoes was affecting me. I realised I was becoming a little worked up, curious and intrigued by them. The relationship we’d developed over the past few days had been close and very friendly but not once had I thought it would become anything other than friendship. I was almost old enough to be their mother for Christ’s sake! I was not looking for any involvement with men. I hadn’t for the past six months. Not since that short affair with the guy I met when playing golf in Spain. Not since I’d felt myself becoming emotionally dependant on him, wanting to see him more often than his location, some 250 miles away, permitted. So I gave up dating. Avoided any entanglement. I’d found that I couldn’t fully enjoy sex without some form of emotional involvement and after the hurt of Kevin I couldn’t and didn’t want to make any commitment that way. So I’d got myself into the classic Catch 22. The only way for me was to forego sex. So six months ago I’d stopped dating, stopped seeing men and had become celibate. I hadn’t, though, stopped thinking about it. Hardly a day, well never a whole day, more like an hour really, went by without me having some form of sexual thought. The frustration was extreme and at times I yearned so much to feel a man touch me, hold me, kiss and cuddle me and yes fuck me. But I’d fought those raging temptations during the past six months and I’d held out. It was therefore rather ironic I thought to be laying in a pine forest in France with two young men as I contemplated just what they were implying and intending with their lyrical phrases and their intimate gestures. “Let’s swim,” Luc suggested. “I can’t,” I immediately replied, “I don’t have my swimming stuff with me.” Richard looked right at me as, smiling, he said, “neither do we.” Luc added, “Amanda this France we do not worry about such things, nudity to us is no problem, it’s natural.” I knew that I couldn’t just strip off there and go swimming with the two of them naked. I just couldn’t do that. Call it shyness, British reserve, me being a prude or whatever, I just knew I couldn’t. The fact that they had created a rather intimate atmosphere by talking about my body and complimenting me so much may also have been an influence on me as I replied. “Tell you what, let’s go to my house and use the pool, we can get your stuff on the way.” They agreed, somewhat reluctantly I thought. We strolled back through the forest and I felt Luc put his arm around my waist as we climbed over some large tree roots. Once over them he didn’t remove it and I felt Richard’s join it. It felt natural. Nothing too overt just three friends strolling arm in arm. I put my arms around their waists and we walked all the way to the car like that. It was a tender, caring and quite loving moment I thought as I got into the BMW. Soon we were buzzing down the narrow roads towards their flat. They went in and collected their shorts and not long after I was in my bedroom getting ready for the pool. I pondered for some time on what bikini to wear for I wanted to show my body at its best but without looking too come on to them. So the two thong bottomed jobs were out. I selected a fairly straightforward yellow bikini that was as cover up as any I had although the bottom was cut quite acutely at the crotch meaning that I’d had to pay close attention to my bikini line before coming away. Just the same I checked closely in the mirror to make sure there were no stray hairs. As I looked at myself I was horrified to see that my bloody nipples had started misbehaving and that they were standing up like two acorns. “Hmmm I’m not cold,” I mused being deep down very aware why they were reacting like that. I almost gasped with pleasure as I saw the two of them laying on the beds round the pool. They really were gorgeous I thought. Both were heavily tanned and were wearing speedos. On other men they may have looked a little old fashioned and slightly ridiculous, but the French have a way of carrying off such incongruous garments don’t they? Well certainly Luc and Richard did. The modest amount material was stretched taught around them, the legs being cut acutely, the waist bands so low that both were sprouting generous helpings of pubic hairs from the front and were showing the start of the crack between the cheeks of their bottoms at the back. Their bodies were magnificent. Lean with well formed but not bulky muscles they had the firmness of youth and the sculpted appeal of maturity. Each oozed sex appeal as they lay on the beds their long, lean legs stretched out before them, their bare chests on view, their flat stomachs looking like the six packs you see on male models. As I approached them I couldn’t stop my eyes from going to their speedos. I’m not the sort of woman that has a great interest in the size of a man’s penis and seeing men clad just in tight shorts does not generally make me wonder what’s inside them. But try as I might I couldn’t stop my gaze from being drawn as if by magnets to the two bulging lumps inside their tight miniscule swimsuits. It wasn’t so much the sheer size of the two bulges that attracted my gaze, even though those ridiculously brief and tight speedos did reveal that, it was the blatant way that the thin material clung to them. That left nothing at all to the imagination. It framed each penis illustrating clearly its shape and length. It seemed to cuddle so closely to each pair of balls accentuating their fullness and emphasising their roundness. I could see the bulbous tips of each cock through the material and my eyes saw where each sunk into the confines of the two scrotums. I covered the last few metres to them on shaky legs and with a pounding heart. “What’s happening to me?” I asked myself. I’d never felt like this. Never before had the sight of a man so aroused me or done such things to me as was happening now. I felt as though I just wanted to sink to my knees and bury my face in one of those bulges. Rip the gossamer thin material away and make the cock rear up to its fullness so that I could takeit into me. Into my hand, between my breasts, in my mouth or anywhere. “Oh Amanda,” Luc said as I sat myself down trying desperately to regain my composure, “you look magnifique.” “Yes Mandy you look so wonderful, so womanly, so marvellous,” Richard chimed in. Those words and the adoring and, yes, lustful looks on their faces did little to help my, by now fairly distressed state. I smiled and said, “thanks,” but could say no more for fear of my voice giving my emotions and thoughts away. The patio area around the pool is small and there was not much room on there for the three loungers. They were pushed closely together, almost touching. So as I sat on the spare one between them my legs were almost touching their’s. I had to pass by them so closely. Our bodies almost touched, I could almost feel their heat. It was agonisingly frustrating for me to clamber over their beds to get to mine. It was disturbing for me to remove the black, net wrap I’d fitted around me. And it was excruciatingly embarrassing to me to feel the arousal I did as they gazed at my nearly nude body. My body isn’t bad. I know that. I am full figured and yes there are blemishes. My boobs sag a little from their size and weight and my tummy sticks out a bit due to me not being dedicated enough withtmy post natal exercises. My bum has its fair share of flesh and for sure there’s an excess of that on there and on my thighs. But I’m thirty eight for Christ’s sake and I’ve had a child. Overall it’s not out of proportion I knew. Yes my tits are on the large size but not overly so and thus the general package has always attracted the stares of men. Both during my marriage, when I strayed a few time after getting what I called my red mists when I learned of Kevin’s philanderings, and since it when I’ve been naked with men I’ve had no complaints. So, I guess I’m relatively happy with what I’ve got and confident when displaying it. Normally that is. But on this small patio with Luc and Richard so close to me in their ridiculously brief swimsuits this wasn’t normally and I felt far from being relaxed or comfortable. My heart was pounding. My pulses were racing and I was starting to breathe rather heavily. I knew that as both of them looked at me they’d see the very clear evidence of my arousal for my nipples were, as they did so often, betraying me. “I think I’ll have a swim,” I muttered desperately wanting to do something that might calm me down I We all swam. We messed around and we laughed and giggled like kids as we played around in the cool waters of the pool. We got out and sat on the patio each sipping a beer as we chatted. Once more, though, as seemed to happen each time we talked now the conversation slowly became personal and intimate. “I said you had the body of a young woman Amanda,” one of them said as I lay back my eyes closed soaking up the early evening sun., “but it’s more than that. It’s perfection.” “You have the body of a real woman.” “Its so feminine and wonderful.” “It’s perfection.” I heard the compliments. I heard the phrases and words as once more they inflamed me. They just seemed to keep coming, washing over me and burning into my mind. I couldn’t resist them. What woman could I wondered? But still I had no idea why they were saying them or where they were leading. It was strange to have two men acting in tandem almost becoming one. It was unique in my experiences and my mind and body reacted. I was excited by them. There was a warmth raging through me as they just said more and more such alluring and arousing things to me. My mind was in a whirl of conflicting thoughts and views. Were they trying to seduce me, or was it just their French way? If it was seduction then for what? Were they competing with each other? Would one give way to the other? Was I supposed to choose? Or was it just two young men being kind to an older woman? I didn’t know and couldn’t tell from what they were saying and how they were acting just what the fuck was going on. Now dry and with the sun gone it became a little chilly. I suggested we barbecue something. I had plenty of meat in the freezer, we’d bought bread at the market and the wine cabinet was well stocked. I showed them to the guest bathroom and went into my room to shower. Standing naked the still damp bikini on the floor I shuddered as I thought of the two of them next door. Just a few feet from me, I realised, were the two of them in all their bare beauty. They would have removed their speedos, I found myself thinking. They would be naked. Their cocks, the outlines of which I’d seen so clearly, would be on show. They were such a short distance from me, I shuddered as my mind simply couldn’t tear itself from the mental picture of their gorgeous, young, firm bare bodies. I was being stupid. I realised that. It was just the ramblings of a very, frustrated woman I acknowledged. They were young, free and very desirable, why would they be interested in me. But their words I reminded myself. The things they’d said, Such personal, frank and intimate things. Surely there was something in that? But they are French I reconciled, and they are so like that. So open about sex and nudity, so easy at complimenting women and so, well just sexy I suppose. They probably mean nothing more than just being friendly and a little flirty I thought as I dressed. In any case how could two friends “share out the spoils” as it were, I caught myself thinking as I slipped into the white thong and net, see through, thin bra that did absolutely nothing to hide the frighteningly hard pink acorns that my nipples had become? The idea that two young men could even contemplate trying to seduce me together was unthinkable. Wasn’t it? Surely it was. As equally unthinkable I thought as it was that I could even give the slightest thought to agreeing. I’d never been one to enjoy sharing my sexual partners or one to gain great pleasure from imagining what a threesome with two men would be like. The mere idea, though possibly having some intellectually erotic appeal, overall struck me as being impracticable and unrealistic. After all sex is such an intimate thing. Its intended to be between two people and surely a third party in any relationship becomes an intruder at some time in the proceedings and reduces the intimacy between the other two. “Why the fuck am I even thinking about such things?” I said almost out loud as I pulled the casual tee shirt dress over my head. I realised that they were two mates, two friends and that men also didn’t like to share. Also men are not that accustomed to being intimately close to other males so the idea of the two of them wanting me together was plainly ridiculous. Ridiculous it may well have been but when I walked into the living room and saw them sitting there in their shorts and tee shirts I still felt a wallop of some form of arousal, interest, desire or something. They barbecued the steaks and I poured the drinks as we chatted about a whole raft of topics that, fortunately, were not particularly intimate or about me. I was, however, still feeling a little light-headed at being so close to the two beautiful young men both of whom had said such nice things about me. Both of whom had asked me such personal things, both of whom had danced with me in such a sensuous way and both of whom gazed so adoringly at me. The two young men that had lounged on the patio as my eyes saw the vivid outline and almost every detail of the genitalia. We finished dinner just as it got dark and I wondered what would happen now. As I washed up the plates alone in the kitchen my imagination again began to embark on trips into areas I wished it hadn’t. So when I walked into the lounge I was tingling with expectancy. I guess I thought that after such a lovely day when the three of us had been so close there had to be a perfect ending. As I sat down I wondered, but had no idea, just what that perfect ending might be. There wasn’t one. The atmosphere wasn’t the same. The intensity had gone, the intimacy and the closeness were not there any more. It was almost as if they had reached a peak with me around the pool that they couldn’t or wouldn’t maintain. I wondered if I’d said something or if they’d chatted and had decided to cool things. Later after they’d gone I felt quite disappointed. Sitting with a glass of wine I tried to work out what might have happened but came up with a complete blank. It just beat me. I’d certainly, at least, expected more of the overt flattery and gentle come ons. In some ways I’d thought the flirting would increase and that one might try something more obvious. At the extremes of my considerations I momentarily did, as I had several times, thought that maybe they did have girls together and that possibly they would try for a threesome with me. But as I got ready for bed my more considered self took prominence and I thought that perhaps they were just tiring of entertaining an old biddy like me. The next night Luc was in the restaurant by himself. Richard had gone to see someone in Deauville he’d explained. I thought that was odd because they hadn’t mentioned it the day before but being Monday the restaurant was quiet so I thought no more of it as I ate dinner with just three other diners in there. They left at just after eight when Henri came out and said that he was off as well. “Hooker night,” Luc explained coming and sitting at my table after he’d cleared everything up. He poured us both generous helpings of Calvados and we started talking easily again. The distance of last night had gone and the intimacy had returned. He asked about boy friends I’d had since the break up and whether therewas any man hovering around and I asked him about his girl friends. We were sitting quite close, our legs almost touching under the table. As the French are, he was quite expressive with his hands and several times he placed his fingers on my wrist as he made points or posed questions. I thought then that I began to see it. I started in my mind to work out what they were up to. As Luc told me about a girl he’d had in Bournemouth who he thought may well have been the love of his life, “we made such wonderful love,” he said. “Maybe they’d tossed for me,” I mused? “Luc has the first go and Richard the second,” I thought, feeling a little put out. As we sat there drinking the Calvados with me telling him about the affair I’d had with David when I was married , who I still think was the love of my life, so I couldn’t help pondering on what it would be like to be made love to by a young man. Not that I’d decided I would make love to him even if he tried. No it was the theory of having a young man I pondered about. I’d read about it in such magazines as Cosmo and Elle of course, and several friends or acquaintances had told me that they’d had toy boys and how wonderful it was. One golfing friend, a forty five year old woman, had described them as “instant erections” and Katy, a rather forthright divorcee I knew said, “they can go all night, four or five times at least.” They and the magazine articles had focused on their firm youthful bodies without the flab and sagging of men in their forties. That appealed to me. The thought of being against a lithe , taught body that was smooth and firm to my touch did appeal, As, I have to admit, (well theoretically at least I reminded myself for I was celibate wasn’t I?) the idea of being with someone with very quick recovery powers and the stamina to come several times in an evening had a quite stirring appeal. “Stop it,” I ordered myself. “Stop the ramblings of a woman approaching forty who has no man in her life. It’s the frustration caused by that that’s making you have these outlandish and totally ridiculous thoughts,” I told myself. But was it I wondered as his fingers again touched the back of my hand? Was it I thought as he went on talking to me in the most intimate terms? And was It I pondered, my heart beating faster, as his dark eyes bored into mine as he said, “You know Richard and I think a lot of you, don’t you Amanda?” “As I do of both of you,” I replied quietly sipping my drink to avoid my embarrassment and the excitement I felt. I really was in a turmoil for I thought that this was it. The real come on, from him. And I had no idea how I’d react. Half of me was dying to feel him against me, to have him touch me and kiss me, caress and fondle me and, yes, have him undress me and fuck me. Half wanted that, well fantasised about it. But there was the other half and that was nowhere near as sure. “Think of how you’ll feel after? The remorse you’ll have when he gets up from your bed and leaves? And the feeling of being used you’ll experience when you look back on it,” my better half warned me. I needn’t have worried, though, for out of the blue he said, “well I’m bushed Amanda, let me run you home.” “Bloody unpredictable French,” I thought as I went to bed still aroused and excited but also relieved that I hadn’t had to make a decision something, that when sex and sexual relationships are concerned, I really am not good at. My French Holiday What bewildered me most of all was the way that they seemed to raise the intimacy and closeness of our relationship to the point where they had excited and intrigued me. To the point probably, I had to admit, where I would have been awfully tempted to cast fate to the winds and say yes. Once they’d done that, though, they then seemed to cool on what they were doing and change the mood completely. I had no idea and could think of no reason why other than perhaps I was overestimating my appeal to young men! But it all changed. The restaurant was empty the next night. I was the only diner and they ate with me as opposed to eating after everyone had gone as was the norm. Henri left. The three of us were alone. We ate and drank together and, as usual, they started to raise the temperature. “That’s a lovely ring,” Richard said holding my finger and looking at the cluster of diamonds I’d had made from the engagement and eternity rings Kevin had bought me. Touching a person’s fingertips is, I’ve always thought, very erotic. They are extremely sensitive and I felt a little rush of feeling as his and my fingertips touched. I told them the story abou the ring. “And this one Mandy?” Luc asked taking my other hand and looking at the sapphire ring my grandmother had left me in her will. I told them about that as well feeling quite strange sitting there the two of them holding and, I noticed, softly stroking my fingertips. For some reason they’d put some music on and I heard that Piaf song again. The one playing when I’d danced with them, Je ne Rien Regret.. “It’s our song” one of them said. “We must dance to it,” the other added as they pulled me to my feet. Their arms around me we danced slowly in the centre of the room. At first in a line but then they put their arms round each other and we made a circle. I was between them. Both had their arms round me between my shoulders and waist, mine were around their shoulders. It wasn’t dancing really, more just swaying on the spot. We were very close. Our bodies were touching and their hands that were draped round me were perilously close to the sides of my breasts. I was feeling mellow and very close to them as Luc pulled me into his arms so that I was facing him and Richard was holding me from behind. We danced like that for a while then I was spun round and I was in Richard’s arms with Luc behind me. Their bodies were touching me everywhere. I was feeling them from my head to my toes. Up and down my front and my back. My breasts were squashed against one my bottom against the other. It was heady stuff indeed. They had turned the temperature up several degrees. They’d gone further than they had before. They were more adventurous and ambitious and far more more enticing than at any time since we’d met. Or were they? Was this just my imagination going on yet another flight of fancy about them? Maybe it was them just having fun. For God’s sake we were only dancing. Perhaps that’s all it was? A dance and a bit of fun after work? My mind kept telling me that. But now all my womanly instincts and my body were telling me otherwise. It was if they were priming me, getting me ready, testing the water. And it was as if I was readying myself, making preparations, getting ready to decide, almost making my mind up to respond in whatever way seemed the most appropriate. I didn’t know what I wanted. I had no idea how I’d react, whether I had the nerve to take on two young men or, indeed, if my sense of sexual morality would permitme to. Then the record ended. Edith’s sensitively, croaky voice faded away. And with that I felt relief. II also felt disappointed that this magical moment would end. But we stayed like that, in that close and so tender mutual embrace. The record started again, they must have the CD on repeat I realised. “No, no regret,” I heard. We swayed more slowly. “No I have no regrets.” The sensuous sound of the ex Gypsy woman’s voice oozed over me permeating every pore in my body. “Mandy, you know we think so much of you, don’t you?” one was whispering as, with my eyes, closed I moved my body against both of theirs, while the other sang the words to the song into my ear. Their accents seemed to become even more sexy, their bodies more comforting, their words had deeper meaning as I whispered. Yes, yes I do as you do me.” “Do we really Amanda, do we?” “Yes of course,” I sighed, “of course you both do.” “Oh Amanda,” Luc whispered his face now touching mine, our cheeks pressed together, “that makes us feel so happy.” I felt his lips touch my cheek. I felt their softness as he kissed me. I felt Richard running his fingers through my hair lifting the long, chestnut coloured locks up from my shoulders baring my neck. I felt his lips on my neck, running up from the collar of my pale yellow, thin cheesecloth blouse to the hairs on my neck. I felt their hands more tightly on my waist, the sides of my chest and my back. I felt their bodies against mine. I felt their chests, their stomachs, the front of their thighs and their bulges. One bulge against my tummy, the other against my bottom. Against my tummy and bottom inside the white voile, almost see-through skirt. That was also thin and it felt as though it wasn’t there and that those bulges were against my bare skin. I was in a daze. It was though I was being hypnotised. Everything in the world lost meaning. All “normal” thoughts and considerations vanished. There was nothing other than us and Edith Piaf. “Je ne rien de regrets,” filled my mind as Luc and Richard seemed to be consuming my body, their words, embraces and bodies consuming my mind. The song and our three beings became my entire focus. I was losing any resistance as they breathed such stirring phrases. “You are so beautiful Mandy.” “The body of an angel the face of a girl.” “We’re as one, the three of us are one person Amanda.” “Us against the world, we make the rules, we can do anything can’t we?” “Anything we want can’t we?” I heard Luc whisper as his hand touched the side of my breasts more overtly than either had before. As their bodies seemed to press more urgently against mine they were both whispering. “Can’t we Amanda, anything?” “Yes “ I heard myself say in almost a whimper, “yes. Yes we can.” “Oh Amanda, Amanda,” Luc said as his face came right in front of mine and he looked deeply into my eyes. “Can we really, can we?” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to respond. All I did know was that he was going to kiss me. His eyes were boring into mine, his lips were slightly parted and his position was the one seen in so many films as the hero is about to kiss the heroine. I could turn my head. I could move away. I could make light of it and say something trivial or I could simply say, “no.” I didn’t though. I did none of those things. I merely stayed exactly as I was. Richard’s arms holding my hips his bulge pressed against my bottom. Luc’s arms around me, my breasts squashed against his, our gazes locked his mouth slightly open moving slowly towards mine. They were just centimetres apart, he’d tilted his head to one side, he held my gaze as his lips brushed mine. I closed my eyes and I parted my lips slightly. And then he kissed me. Softly, gently and tenderly. His lips brushed mine, they didn’t squirm against them. His tongue just touched my mouth it didn’t probe inside it. The whole kiss was enquiring and hesitant not demanding and assumptive. As he kissed my mouth so I felt Richard’s lips or maybe tongue on my neck. I responded to both. My mouth, as equally gently as Luc’s, caressed his lips and I presed my neck gently backwards against Richard’s. But almost as quickly as the kiss had started it ended. It ended almost in time with Piaf’s high notes at the end of the haunting song. It didn’t start again and I guessed there was a three time play on the CD. The sudden silence broke the mood and they both let me go. Richard moved away and poured us all another Calvados. I rested myself on one of the tables the edge of it pressing into my bottom. He stood beside me, closely his arm one t he table supporting him. Luc sat right beside me our outer thighs pressed together. “Mandy I’m sorry,” he said not looking at me. “There’s no need,” I replied honestly, wondering at the sudden change, yet again in them and curious as to why he’d apologised. “We shouldn’t have done that,” Richard added. “It’s just that you have done such things to us Amanda,” Luc muttered staring into his glass, “such powerful things, such strong feelings. Feelings we shouldn’t have. Feelings that are wrong.” I remained silent on tenterhooks. I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or disappointed that they’d stopped kissing me and I wondered what was coming next. Richard chimed in, “to both of us Mandy. You have made us have such erotic thoughts, such intense desires.” “Such amazing fantasies Amanda, of us and you,” Luc went on. “It was coming,” I thought, “they’re going to open up, tell me, tell me what I don’t want to here, tell me that they wanted to make love to me.” I steeled myself to hear it and gulped at the prospect of how I would respond. How I, a thirty eight year old mother and divorcee, would respond to two twenty one or two year old boys telling me that they wanted to fuck me at the same time. But they didn’t say that. No what they said was nothing like I’d expected. They answered so many questions, they put a completely different perspective on all that had happened between us and they gave me such a unique set of feelings and emotions. “And for us that’s wrong,” one of them muttered, “what you have made us feel Mandy is foreign to us, against all we believe and think and feel.” “We’ve never felt anything like it,” Richard said very quietly. “Never Amanda,” Luc said very hesitantly as if choosing his words carefully before adding, “you see Mandy, we’re gay.” His words crashed into my mind. The sheer amazing irony of the situation confusing me. I couldn’t work out the various ramifications of being with two young men that had lavished such overtly erotic praise on me and of them being gay. Of them being gay yet having fuelled such raging fires in me, had made me wantto think of being naked with them. Of them preferring men yet having been so sexually forward with me when they kissed me. I just couldn’t work out what it all meant. Luc added, “Richard has never been with a woman yet he feels sexually attracted to you.” “Oh God,” was all I could say as we all looked at each other withintense expressions on our faces. Luc went on looking straight at me. “It gets worse Amanda, much worse.” “Fuck what’s coming now?” I said to myself. Luc moved closer still as he said very huskily, “we want to make love to you, we want to be with you andt ouch you and caress you Amanda. We want to take you to bed with us both.” “Yes,” Richard said, “ we want you in our bed naked Mandy so we can adore you, worship you and love you.” “Love you so totally Amanda, love you all of you and love you everywhere as you’ve never been made love to before. This was getting too much for me. One moment I’d been in their arms kissing them, the next they were telling me they were gay and now they were describing what they wanted to do to me. The lyrically erotic phrases washed over me the implications causing such an affect on me. But then what woman I wondered could resist a French accent telling her such things? Such things as, “We want to see your magnificent nakedness, we want to see all of you Mandy, adore you and worship you,” Luc said “We want to feel your body on ours and make you so aroused and so excited Mandy,” Richard added. “Can we Mandy, can we make love together? Can the three of us make wonderful, beautiful love? Can we our darling?” I couldn’t speak and watched in incredulity as Luc moved his hand so it hovered by the button of my blouse. Turning he pressed himself against the side of my leg near to my groin. He was hard. His erection pressed against me as his fingers rested on that button that was half way up my cleavage, on my breasts. I looked from his eyes to his hand. I looked at Richard whose arm had gone round me and was squeezing my waist and I heard myself saying the daftest thing possible. “We can’t here can we?” Luc smiled, “no of course not but we have a bed upstairs that we use when we stay late, we could there, couldn’t we” This was it I recognised. It really was make my mind up time. It was down to me. My heart had gone out to them as they’d told me about being gay. I could, just about, imagine the conflicts that must have been raging in them and I sympathised with them tremendously. Sexuality conflicts were no stranger to me for I’d had them most of my adult life as I’d “experimented” with same gender sex on several occasions. But I also felt something else. Something I wasn’t proud of, something I suppose I shouldn’t. And that was a sort of pride in myself, if that doesn’t sound too arrogant and silly. Proud that I could, as a woman, stir such feelings in two beautiful gay men. I also felt power, strange thing I know but I did. I looked at both of them as I said softly, “Yes we could.” Luc smiled for he realised that wasn’t a real answer so he said, his voice very heavy with emotion, “and can we then Mandy, can we all make love together?” It was almost as if it was someone else’s voice for I seemed to hear from afar just three short words. A small phrase said so huskily. A sentence that contained little content but meant and said so much about them and about me. “Yes we can.” “Oh Mandy,” Luc breathed kissing me eagerly. “Yes Amanda, yes,” Richard said also kissing me, “thank you, thank so much.” The decision made things moved fast. The shut everything off in the restaurant and led me up the narrow staircase, Luc carrying the Calvados Richard the glasses. There were two flights and I was a little breathless when they showed me into the fairly small room with just a bed, a small wardrobe and a tiny dressing table. “You are sure about this aren’t you Mandy?” Luc asked as we stood by the foot of the bed in a circle. I smiled, “no Luc not sure, how could I be? I’ve never done anything like it before? But I would like to try.” I took his face in my hands and firstly kissed him fully on the lips and then did the same to Richard who seemed to be trembling as my mouth closed on his. We alternated the kissing with one moment my lips on Luc’s and the next Richard’s. As we did so I felt my blouse being undone. We hadn’t put the lights on in the bedroom so it was only lit from the glow of the streetlamps outside. Luc, or maybe Richard, had put a CD on and the sensual tones of Edith Piaf were wafting over us as I felt Richard fumbling with my bra. Luc stood before me and I watched him as he removed his shirt, undid his belt and slowly slid his zip down. At the same time as which Richard overcame the difficulties of undoing a bra clip, something women do by instinct with their hands behind their back but which men seem to find an almost impenetrable riddle! As my blouse and bra slid off me I have to say I felt wonderful, so wanted and desired and very, very womanly. I am quite confident of my breasts and I’m fairly comfortable with men looking at them so as they were bared for the first time to two pairs of male eyes simultaneously I was not worried but instead I was aroused by them looking at me. I wanted them to love my breasts. I looked fascinated as Luc so very unselfconsciously slid his boxers down flaunting the semi-erection of his really rather delicious looking cock at me. At the same time Richard was kissing my back and running his fingers up and down my spine pushing them just slightly inside the waist band of my skirt so that they almost, but not quite, touched the start of the crease between the cheeks of my bottom. The mood and atmosphere that we had all so enjoyed earlier was returning, and rapidly. I felt that sensation of floating around. Wallowing in the sheer pleasure of my body being aroused. Drifting off into a karma of sexual arousal and expectant sensations. I didn’t have to wait long for those expectations to be fulfilled. Luc’s hands came round me and grasped my breasts lifting them, cupping them, pushing them together and pinching my nipples as he pulled me backwards so that I laid on the bed my legs hanging over the side of it. I felt, rather than saw, Richard, who was still in his jeans and shirt, kneel down between my opened legs with the thin skirt pushed mid way up my thighs. Again, totally by feel, his fingers were on the waist-band undoing it, pulling at it, sliding it off me. I raised my bottom to let the light material slither down my legs so that I lay there in just the brief, lacy, white, silk thong. As the two men gazed at me muttering how marvellous and how sexy I looked I felt so wanted and desired, so aroused and so excited and so womanly and feminine. I also felt so close to them both. They manipulated me up the bed and into the middle of it between them. It was now Richard’s turn to perform his ritual strip and he duly obliged by sliding his shirt, jeans and boxers off almost in one movement so that all three of us were now as good as naked on the bed pressed together our bodies touching and squirming against each other. It really was an incredible feeling to be in the arms of two men with their bodies pressing into my hips, and thighs, and buttocks, and hips and bottom. I revelled in it and ground myself back against them. All the arousal and excitement they’d given me in the past few days combined with what they’d done to me tonight and with the enormous frustration that six months without sex causes. I now wanted to be fucked, no I needed to be fucked. More than anything in this world I needed a cock in me. It was my just reward, my fair bonus, my return from what I’d given of myself so far. All thoughts of morality, of their youth and their sexuality simply disappeared in my mind. That was now totally scrambled. So many confusing and conflicting emotions had rushed through it in the past hour that it was now incapable of rational thought More than anything at all I wanted one, or both, of these two men to fuck me. Hard, quick, raw and vigorous. I needed sex soon and firmly and I didn’t care by whom. I had gone beyond being discrete or diplomatic and all that I really wanted was relief from the incredible ache that they’d built up in me. I heard myself saying, “please make me cum, make me cum, please, please,” as they both cradled me in their arms grinding themselves against me, rolling my breasts together as they pinched and sucked my swollen and aching nipples that seemed as if they were about to explode. I so needed to be fucked that I was almost ready to, plead for them to make love to me, to relieve me from the awful ache, to take me to that land of such wonderful sensations. God I was so aroused I would have done practically anything to gain the rlief my sex starved body demanded. But something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t make out at first what it was. Something vague, something unusual. And then I realised, then suddenly it hit me, suddenly I felt something different. Richard didn’t have an erection. Luc’s was pressing into me, hard and firm but where the other should have been there was a softness. I didn’t know what to do. Ignore it and hope it arrived or mention it and risk bringing him embarrassment? I chose a middle course. I let my hand trail over his chest. I let it run down his superbly sculpted muscles and onto the flatness of his stomach. His hand took my wrist. “No Mandy, no please,” he said his voice very tight. My arousal was immediately replaced by concern for him. “Oh Richard,” I said sympathetically for my heart had gone out to him, Richard baby, don’t worry, I understand,” I whispered turning my body towards him and putting my arms round his shoulders. I felt sort of maternal towards him. I wanted to help him, encourage him, arouse him if possible I suppose. I cuddled him to me murmuring soothing words to him. I pulled his face against my breasts. My big breasts, my full and aching breasts. My breasts that usually once they are touched or even seen by a man produces instant erections. But not today, not with poor Richard. He began to sob. Luc came and sat beside him. He put his arms round his shoulders and whispered to him in French most of which I didn’t understand. My French Holiday We were huddled together, both of them naked and me just in the white thong. We were close, touching, all together in one group, sitting up holding Richard, consoling him and encouraging him. Luc I could see was hard, very hard and he had a nice cock. Long slim and thrusting upwards along his flat, taught stomach out from a mass of crinkly pubic hairs. It looked so tempting that I almost reached out for it. His arm was around Richard’s shoulders, his chest pressed against his friend’s arms, his other hand on his knee. I also had my arm around the sobbing young man feeling the shuddering in him as he cried. “Oh Amanda, “ he stammered between sobs, “I’m so sorry ,so very, very sorry.” I pulled him closer not in a sexual embrace but in a comforting one as I whispered, “Don’t be silly, it’s fine, I understand I really do. Let’s just leave it,” I replied feeling a strong pang of disappointment after being so close and so excited by them both. “Here we go again” I thought recalling the times they’d built me up only to pull me back down so quickly. “No, no, no. Don’t let’s forget it. It’s just that you can’t understand,” he retorted quite sharply. “I want this, I want to be with you like this, naked with you, I want to make love with you, it’s just that I am so nervous, I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.” I leaned forward and kissed him softly whispering as my lips parted slightly from his. “Let me do the work Richard, let me help you.” Luc joined in, “try Richard, try hard it’s difficult I know but you know you want this as much as I do, don’t you?” He nodded, “yes Luc I do.” I then watched absolutely fascinated as Luc gently pushed Richard backwards until he was laying flat on the bed one knee just slightly drawn up. He really did have a magnificent body and as Luc he had a lovely cock that seemed to me in the dim light to have some life in it. “Kiss him Amanda,” Luc said. As I leaned forward to do that Luc went on, “hold Mandy’s breasts Richard. I kissed him gently and felt his hands tentatively stroking my breasts. It felt good. But then looking down my heart started to poundr. I didn’t know whether to be annoyed, frustrated disappointed or pleased. I did know, though, that what I saw excited me so much. Luc was holding Richard’s semi erect penis and was stroking it. It was an amazing sight. One that was so far more erotic than I would ever have imagined. As my lips grazed against Richard’s and as his hands slightly more confidently caressed me so he grew in Luc’s hands. Grew and grew until his erection was full and until he was fully hard. Smiling I whispered in his ear, “there it’s nothing, it’s ok, you’re wonderfully hard.” He smiled back and said, “touch me Mandy, please touch me.” I replaced Luc’s hand on Richard’s long smooth penis and stroked it lovingly. It was hard and warm, so smooth and very, very ready. “Is that nice Richard?” I asked my breasts close to his mouth. “Oh yes, yes it is. It’s the first time a woman has ever touched me,” he said quietly. We just lay there for some time letting Richard get used to being with a woman. Luc was far less reticent and he and I were kissing and he’d been stroking my breasts and then licking and chewing gently on my nipples, as he’d run his hands all over me. While he did that I was stroking and fondling Richard. His hair, his chest his flat stomach and, of course, his cock that just seemed to keep on growing and hardening. He gained more confidence and started to return my careMore like a woman’s touch than a man’s. He was getting it, understanding that sex transcends gender and pre-conceived views on sexuality when the circumstances are appropriate. But it was a lot for him to take. A great deal for him to take on. Too much probably. Too much excitement, too much change. The inevitable happened. Just as I was kissing him and Luc was pressing his erection hard against my hip while Richard sucked my breast I felt him shudder and groan deeply. “No, oh no, merdre no,” he growled as his whole body started to shudder. I knew immediately that he was going to cum. “I’m so sorry, sorry, I’m cumming,” he groaned. “Don’t be baby, don’t worry,” I said pulling him to me. I pressed my tummy against his twitching cock as it exploded. He was moaning and sighing as he ejaculated so prematurely but, for some strange reason I also found, so excitingly. We clung to each other as spurt after spurt splattered onto my stomach and thighs. We cleaned up and Richard seemed to relax as we had another drink before going back to the bed. It was as if having now cum in the arms of a woman he was more assured. As if somehow his sexuality had accepted that he could gain as much from a woman as he could from a man. We talked about it with Luc being very pleased that his friend and lover, for three years so they told me, could like him “swing both ways!” We even laughed and joked a little and I told them that I’d been with several women so I had some understanding of his concerns and worries. It didn’t take hardly any time now for him to become accustomed to making love to a woman. There’s not much difference really is there? We all like to be touched and stroked, caressed and fondled and the places where we like this are quite similar? So in no time at all we had started again where we’d left off when he’d cum, Also it took him hardly any time at all to become hard again. That thrilled me. It was a long time since I’d been with a man who had such recovery powers. Men in their late thirties and forties, which had been the ages I’d been with for the past fifteen years or so, just don’t have those powers. As it struck me that young men could be ready again so quickly and that I was with two of them so I felt myself shudder at the thought of the amount of sex that was possible. I was, I think, lying in Luc’s arms. It was Richard, I think, that was pressed against my front kissing me but it may well have been Luc. I was in such a state and had moved from one man to the other and with both at once that they had become a blur. Their hands and mouths had been all over my body, their bareness had been against every part of mine and where one of them ended and the other began had become unclear. What was happening was that I was being made love to by one mass of naked, gloriously beautiful and magnificently rampant male flesh and the fact that it was by two men became irrelevant in moral terms but fantastic from the physical aspect. Having two hard cocks simultaneously being ground against me, holding two at the same time in my hands and feeling the pair probe at my tingling bottom, breasts, tummy and pubic mound had been the incredible. So as one held and kissed me the other was moulded to me from behind. Lying on our sides I was squashed between them every part of my body being in touch with that mass of male flesh. I was the sensitised filling in the most arousing sandwich in the world. Whoever it was that was behind was now easing my legs apart. Richard or Luc whose arms I was in was grinding their erection against my mound as they sucked so wonderfully on my beasts. The penis slipped between my legs from behind and nuzzled against my lips adding yet another dimension to my arousal as I realised that I was at last going to be put out of my agony. That now I was going to be fucked and that the time had arrived when I was going to be able to fully cum. I had been riding along on the crest of that wonderful set of near climax sensations for what had seemed an age and now my entire mind and body was screaming to be released and taken over the top. And then one of them was in me. Deep inside me. And was already moving as, indeed, I was as well. Immediately I felt the delicious whoosh of a penis sliding effortlessly up me I began to move my loins up and down its length as that started to pump in me. It wasn’t a long or technically that competent a fuck. That wasn’t needed for it was the fact of being penetrated that was important not how it was done. “Oh God yes, yes, yes,” I moaned as the one whose arms I was in said, “Come on Mandy, come on, love it enjoy it.” “Oh my God, Oh my God, yes fuck me, fuck me make me cum, make me cum,” I moaned almost delirious with the sensations and the sheer wantonness of being made love to by the two men almost young enough to have been my sons. Being kissed on the breasts and mouth by one man as he ground himself against the entire front of my body as another screwed me from behind took me over the top quickly and completely. “Oh yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” I whined as everything exploded at the same time. I may well have fainted for a moment or two so extreme and powerful was my climax. They held me, cuddling stroking and kissing me as I writhed through the convulsions of my orgasm my body alive and so sensitive as the feelings reached their peak then shuddered on for such a long time until at last I was finished. Opening my eyes I saw that it was Richard who was holding me and that it was Luc who’d entered me. I turned and kissed him saying, “phew that was wonderful, it was marvellous Luc thank you.” He gently kissed me back saying how amazing it had been for him as well and thanking me. I had completely forgotten about my usual concern for safe sex so I was relieved when I saw Luc removing the condom and looking down at that and smiling I said, “and thanks for that as well.” Still having little shudders going through me and still with a tremendous warmth permeating through my entire body I suddenly realised that of course, unlike “normal” sex, things hadn’t finished. I still had a fully erect penis pressing into my hip. I still had a rampant man next to me and I still had a body ready and willing to give me more. That somehow got to me and I felt my arousal boiling up again. The idea that sex could go on for so long and not just as foreplay excited me and I almost laughed as I thought that perhaps this should become the norm. I returned Richard’s kisses. I returned his caresses by stroking his burningly hard erection and revelled in Luc’s, now less urgently but still wonderfully nice, kisses on my back and touches on my body. I knew that I would have to be gentle and particularly careful with Richard. After all I was taking his virginity wasn’t I? Well at least that with a woman. I turned onto my back and held my arms out indicating for him to lay on top of me as Luc positioned himself alongside us stroking my breasts and taking turns with Richard to kiss me. In many ways the kissing was as exciting as the real sex. Why? I have no idea. But somehow two pairs of lips alternating tenderly and lovingly on mine, grinding against mine and probing them open so that our tongues could entwine was amazingly erotic and wonderfully intimate. I held Richard, in fact I cuddled him tightly encouraging him to ease himself down a little so that his erection was nuzzling against my lips and I looked into my eyes as Luc started to suck on my nipple. I smiled at Richard and whispered, “are you ready darling, are you ready to make love to me, are you ready Richard, to fuck Mandy?” “Oh God yes Mandy yes I am so ready and I so want to,” he breathed. And then for the second time within what seemed only a few minutes but was probably about an hour, I had that wonderful feeling of a man sliding deep into me. It really is the most incredible sensation as the smooth hardness of an erection surges inside a woman sensitising the delicately balanced lining of her most womanly place and I revelled in that trying hard to squeeze the “invader” with my vaginal muscles. Of course given the circumstances this was an especially wonderful moment for all of us. There was not the urgency for me this time, but there was for him of course. My incredible need to cum had been satisfied so this time I was more relaxed and my movements did not urge Richard to finish quickly as I probably had with Luc. Richard was tense. I could feel that through my fingers that were running up and down his back but he let nature take over. Soon he began to make slow, deep and lovely surges in and out of me then thrusting himself in as far as he could he held it there rigid filling me as full as he could. That’s another really wonderful sensation. To be filled by a man’s cock and to have it held deep inside so that the woman can use that as she wants is a marvellous moment during full sex. Richard was obviously somehow aware of that and continued doing it thus letting me set the pace and rhythm of the fuck. Richard took to it like the proverbial horse takes to water. We took our time slowly getting used to each other as Luc pressed himself against me my hand, unconsciously almost, finding his softened penis that I stroked and caressed. Richard was surprisingly good, He seemed able to naturally anticipate what I wanted moving quickly in and out for a while then almost removing it before shoving himself hard back into me and again then just holding himself deeply engulfed there. He slowly built me up so that once more I was riding along on that near orgasm wave of wonderful feelings but did not tip me over it so that I had the delight of having a near climax all the time. Of course I realised he only climaxed a short while ago so he should be able to last I was still holding Luc and could feel the stirrings as it started to grow again in my hand. “Oh my God Mandy,” he whispered, “I’m getting hard again, this is fucking amazing.” I pulled at him saying, “come here then.” He quickly understood what I meant and wiggled his body so that his now semi erect cock was level with my face. I kissed that as Richard made long, languid thrusts in and out of me. I took Luc into my mouth as both of his hands found my breasts. I sucked him as Richard fucked me and I loved every single moment of this amazing sex. I love the feeling of a man growing in my mouth. It makes a woman feel so wanted and I suppose powerful really that she can have such an affect on a man. That she can create the erection that they both so want. And that happened there and then. As I sucked and licked so it grew to its wonderful fullness and filled my mouth with its warm, hard, throbbing flesh. He began to move to the same rhythm as me. Thrusting as I sucked and almost sliding out as I kissed him. His hips were pumping in time with me and he began to fuck my mouth. I was now being fucked in two places by two hard cocks that were both giving me such amazing sensations. Richard was now ready to cum and had started those indicative long deep thrusts that are a precursor to the quicker more urgent ones that creates the power for him to explode into a woman. “Oh Mandy, Mandy,” he moaned, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” “Yes Richard cum for me, cum in me Richard, now, cum now I moaned” my mouth partially full with Luc’s erection. I was still not quite there as Richard ejaculated into the condom moaning and sighing as men do at that moment. Luc must have realised that I had not fully climaxed and almost roughly he eased Richard off me and took his place. Shoving his cock straight into me I had another man fucking me within moments of another leaving me. The sheer decadence of this aroused me even more and I started to climax hardly before Luc had begun surging in and out of me. But he was able to respond and with five or six deep thrusts he too was cumming, joining me moaning and grunting as we both orgasmed together. We slept then. We stayed together all night waking late the next morning our bodies entwined. I felt sore and slightly bruised inside but seeing my two lovers alongside me and with the recollection of the night before welling up in my mind I also felt myself again becoming aroused. Luc was lying on his back his hand resting on his flaccid penis, Richard on his side his face level with my breast a few locks of his long hair tumbling onto it. He woke and looked at me smiling, “Morning Mandy,” he whispered kissing me on the mouth. Luc also woke and also kissed me. Sex again was inevitable and once more they both made love to me before we all dozed off again. Later we had breakfast and talked about what had happened both of them being so considerate and caring about my feelings and thanking me so much for my participation. I felt as though I was falling in love with both of them and in the intimatel way that we talked we joked about setting ourselves up in London as a true menage a trois. We laughed about how fantastic it would be and how much money we could save but deep down we knew that we’d all go our separate ways once the holiday was finished. But also deep down we also knew that until then we would live as a menage a trios. And we did. The next four days were amongst the most fantastic in my life. Not just because of the sex, and that was truly memorable, but more because of the closeness that developed between us. It was almost as if we became one person. We ate together, worked together, slept together and had sex together. We laughed at the same things and we discussed topics endlessly, particularly sex and what was happening to us. We were open and frank, honest and intimate about everything but always caring and considerate to each other. There were no pairings up and we shared each other fully and equally. They told me that they’d as good as lived together for almost three years. Richard had always felt that he was gay but hadn’t been sure. He’d tried to go with girls several times in his teens but for some reason it had never worked. “They were probably too quick Mandy,” he explained leaning over and giving me an affectionate kiss as he went on, “and not with the experience and understanding of older women.” I laughed, “hey let’s keep the older out of it shall we?” as my lips closed around his. Luc explained that he’d always gone for both men and women but had become so attached to Richard that he had devoted himself to a gay life-style since they’d been together. I asked what it was that had made them want to as I put it , “er change things with me?” Their explanation was fairly garbled and rambling but just about made sense. They had no intention of anything until we’d gone to the lake, although before that Richard had accused Luc of fancying me. Something, apparently, that had happened several times and was a sore point between them for Richard was aware that Luc was bi. That night Richard had told Luc that both at the lake and round my pool he had felt stirrings. They had argued a little for they both accused the other of wanting me It was then that they’d talked further. Richard had said that he really felt that he could have sex with me for I was so understanding. They’d speculated about whether I would be up for it with both of them thinking it most unlikely and having similar feelings as me but in reverse. That I just liked them and was enjoying myself. They did talk about perhaps Luc trying and then, if I said yes suggesting that Richard join in. But Luc told us that he didn’t have the pluck to do that although that afternoon when Richard had gone to Deauville he came very near. We also talked about my feelings. I told them that I had wondered as to why they would one moment seem to be coming onto me then the next would go cold. We laughed as they said that was due to them losing their nerve. I told them that I’d wondered just what they might do for it had seemed to me that our relationship was going beyond just mates. When they asked what had persuadede me to do it I couldn’t give a full or clear answer. “How can I answer that?” I said adding, “it had of course crossed my mind that you might want to do that but really it seemed so outlandish I’d put it down to me being muddle-minded due to my sexual frustration. Strangely, though, we didn’t have sex the next night. It was busy in the restaurant and to be honest I was so tired and rather sore. So after dinner with them I went home and regained the sleep I’d missed the night before. We did talk about it, though, and nearly started but in the end we agreed not to. Sex isn’t everything and in the end result is nothing really without the closeness and intimacy that separated sex for humans from that for animals. My French Holiday As close, warm and intimate as the first time had been it also served to fuel our needs for sex together again. We didn’t plan it or agree that we would do it again but I think we all knew that it was inevitable. I told them that I was going to eat at home the next night. “Maybe you’d like to pop in for a drink on your way home?” I asked. They arrived at my house at around 9.30. Alone again with all the time and the opportunity it was strange that a sort of shyness seemed to come over usl. We chatted about the evening’s diners, about Henri and his visits to the local brothel, about my life in London, their times there and their next term at college. It seemed as though we talked about everything other than what was certainly consuming me and I assumed them as well. I had thought of little else than making love to the pair of them all day. We finished one bottle of wine, with me now having fallen in with them we all drank red. We’d been there over an hour and still neither of them had suggested or done anything and I was starting to think that perhaps they’d had a change of heart. But looking at them I knew that couldn’t be the case and assumed that it was just a shyness on their part. That happens sometimes with even a regular lover. Not being sure that the other party wants to play and in fear of being rejected a reticence comes over them and that was what I think was happening to both of them. I realised then that it was down to me. That was the part I had to play, I had to give a signal, make a sign, indicate that I wanted to so that they could remove the fear of rejection. And that made me feel bold for some reason. I found that I wanted to take the lead, to initiate the action and to make some gesture that would show them that I was as eager to continue exploring our three-way sex as they were. I ran a few thoughts through my mind before deciding on my plan of action. Excusing myself to go to the loo I did what I had planned and then walked back into the lounge coming towards where they were sitting from behind them. As I walked past without even looking at them I said, “Well I’m off to bed.” This caused them to look up and I glanced at them almost laughing at the expressions of surprise, desire, relief and pleasure that went across their faces as they looked at me. That wasn’t totally surprising for I had removed my bra and jeans and had undone my blouse so that I was showing most of my body to them. They got the message and with ashtrays, cigarettes, lighters wine and glasses in their hands they followed me into my bedroom. Still feeling the need to try to lead the proceedings I stood by the bed and turned to face them slipping my blouse off as I said. “You both look a little overdressed to me. “ The ice now completely broken I watched with excitement as my two lovers completely undressed before me. They were both reassuringly hard and I went up to them kissing first one and then the other fully on the lips murmuring as I did. “I’ve been thinking of this all day.” They both replied that they had as well and we stood together in a small triangle kissing as their arms went round me pulling me firstly against Richard’s erection and then Luc’s. As I had one of those pressed into me so I would stroke and fondle the other as both their pairs of hands roamed over my now naked, apart from my thong, body. The sex was vastly different this time. There was no concern that I might object and stop them. There was no hurry. There was in a way slightly less excitement, as last time it was totally new, but despite that we were all very, very aroused and eager to explore this form of lovemaking further. They pushed me towards the bed and I laid on it and for some reason turned onto my front. I have no idea why I did that but it must have sent some form of subliminal message to them for almost immediately they both began to massage me. Well caress would be a better term for their fingertips glided across my skin so wonderfully softly. They were everywhere. To have four hands caressing me in such a manner was incredible. My legs involuntarily, well almost, opened inviting the fingers that slid up and down the inside of my thighs to go further. And they did. I felt fingers right on the soaked gusset of my thong. Under me and on my clitoris. Along my lips and all over my bottom. The thong was removed and I laid there unseeing fully naked as the pair of them did the most amazing things to my body. They struggled under me to cup my breasts and they ran their fingers along the crease between the two mounds of my bottom. They pushed their fingers into me and I squirmed myself against them. They kissed and licked me, again everywhere. On my thighs, the sides of my breasts, my neck and back and on the cheeks of my bum. They went further and I felt one tongue licking and pressing right against my anus as the other lapped at my pussy. They manipulated me so that they could also suck and chew my nipples and so that one could tongue my clitoris as the other licked around my lips and inside me. Naturally I came. I came many times as they went on and on with this incredible display of oral sex. It seemed as though it would never end and I didn’t want it to. To have two men do such things to a woman must be the most totally exciting and sexually pleasurable thing that can happen, well that is unless there are three or four of them doing it. At last we stopped. We had to. I could take no more and I am sure they had very little more to give. But I did. I had a lot to give and now it was turn to do so. I wanted to repay them for the pleasure they’d given me. With both of them laying close together on their backs I straddled Luc’s right thigh and Richard’s left one so that both of my knees were between their legs with me kneeling and leaning forward. My face was close to the two erections that I took in either hand. The sight of the pair of them made me slightly giddy with desire for when I am with a lover that I have feelings for their penis takes on a whole new dimension. It becomes an object of such beauty and desire that I want to love it and consume it. To have two such wonderful appendages in my hands was a marvellous new experience and one that made me so excited that as I say I became a little giddy with desire. I had to make each of them turn slightly onto their sides so that I could reach both at once with my mouth. This of course meant that their upper bodies were pressed together their erections were almost touching and their hips were squashed against each other. I assumed this might be an additional turn on for them and that they might revert to their homosexual instincts and start to kiss. I have no problem with seeing men together but I’m not sure I really would have liked that. But neither showed any inclination to do so and I found the intimacy of their positions yet another almighty turn on. I licked the tips of the two penises alternately running my fingers up and down both the shafts of male flesh as I kissed them. I then ran my tongue along both the lengths and around each girth. They tried reaching out to touch me but couldn’t reach and I said for them to just lie back for this was my treat. And I was loving it. I usually do enjoy giving oral and like to think I am quite good at it for I try to be imaginative alternating kisses and licks with taking it into my mouth and sucking. But this was on another scale for there were two of them and that more than doubled my delight. Holding one shaft as I cradled the balls of the other in my hand sent such thrills through me. I was becoming very excited and I pressed the two together and, just about, managed to get both tips in my mouth at the same time. Try as I might though I could not get the pair of them very far into my mouth but enough for each of them to realise that their own penis was being squashed against the other one, something I guessed wasn’t new to them. It was to me, though, and it was an unusually ertic sight for me. I took them out and held them squashed together looking up into both pairs of eyes. I saw that they were very aware of what I was doing and they both smiled encouragingly. That again thrilled and excited me. I wanted to see them do more. I suddenly realised that I would like them to do something to each other. I don’t mean penetration or anything extreme but to touch each other and to caress the others prick. Holding their gazes I slowly reached out and held one of each of their wrists. Not moving my eyes from both of them for a moment I slowly pulled those wrists towards the other’s stomach. “God what am I doing.” I thought for never for once before in my life had I ever even had such thoughts? I placed each hand on the others erection and gently closed the fingers around it so each of my lovers was holding the others prick in their hand. And then I moved the hands up and down so that they were masturbating each other. This obviously came naturally to them and they took to it very easily. As they did that to each other so I licked and kissed them alternately running my tongue from the base of one cock over the tip and onto the tip of the other and then down that’s length. “Jesus Mandy,” Richard said laughing, “you’re turning us into gays.” “Don’t you like it?” I asked “Hmmm maybe too much,” Luc replied, “I am near to cumming.” “So am I,” was Richard’s taught reply. Seeing them do that to each other was so different and so , one of the most erotic sights I’d ever seen. But it quickly became even more erotic. Richard reached out with his other hand and taking mine he pushed my hand downwards so that it was pressed against my pussy. He said “Mandy you do this as well with us.” I most willingly obliged and soon I was rubbing myself right alongside my clitoris with one hand while the other ran round the soaked lips of my vagina Luc muttered through clenched teeth, “can we cum on your breasts Mandy, please let us cum on you?” His words crashed into my mind and the mere thought of having the two of them do that almost made me cum on the spot. I don’t know why and have never tried to analyse the reason but having a lover cum onto me, particularly my breasts, has always been a big turn on for me. I laid between them my hands taking me roaring to yet another orgasm as I heard them both grunting and sighing as they almost simultaneously reached their climaxes. The sperm shot from them splattering over my breasts with a few stray spurts hitting my face and hair. It seemed to go on for ages until at last both finished and leaning forward Richard wiped Luc’s penis over my right boob as Luc did the same with Richard’s to my other breast. Our last night we drank too much, we stayed up too late and we were not in the best of shape for sex. In fact the last time was by far the least successful. However, it was the most tender and caring for we laughed together and cried together as we contemplated my departure and talked of the future. A future that none us, deep down, really believed would happen. Well holiday romances never do have a future, do they? They were the two most beautiful young men I’d ever seen. Both tall, around six feet, and slim they had the olive complexion, brooding eyes and floppy dark hair that characterises so many young French men. I’d learned they were both studying at university, English and Business Studies, they’d told me. In the summer they came back home to the village near Deauville to work as waiters in a local restaurant. On a whim I’d decided to take a break at a friend’s house on France. Kevin, my ex had negotiated as part of the divorce settlement that he could take Sarah, our fourteen year old daughter, on a three week holiday every other year. I hated being without her but was powerless to resist when he’d said he was taking her to Australia via Singapore and back through Bali. I knew that in some ways it was good for her for. Despite the acrimony of a divorce brought about by his persistent unfaithfulness, we’d tried very hard together to make the trauma as harmless as possible for her and I’d let him have quite generous access.. The thought, however, of three weeks alone in the Docklands apartment with all the memories of Sarah around me was horrible. So I phoned Marcia and asked if I could use her house in Deves, a tiny village twenty or so miles inland form the famous French resor of Deauvillet. I’d been there once before with Kevin visiting Marcia and Bill and had though it to be idyllic, but we’d only stayed one night on our way back from the St Tropez. She readily agreed saying, “stay as long as you like no one will be using it for weeks yet.” I’d driven down in my new BMW using the train through the channel tunnel from Folkestone to Calais. The roads had been radically improved since the last time I’d been there and I was surprised to find myself driving through Deauville no more than two hours after disembarking from the train. I did some shopping and then set off down the back roads for Deves. The village and the house were every bit as lovely as I’d remembered and I settled in quite quickly. I reacquainted myself with the four bedrooms, the quite extensive gardens and small swimming pool. I explored the house noting how well furnished and appointed it was but wasn’t surprised for both Marcia and Bill had great taste and oodles of money. I felt that I was going to enjoy myself and soon found I was able, albeit a little guiltily, to put Sarah out of mind, most of the time. I’d gone to the restaurant the first time on the recommendation of the old lady in the local boulangerie. She told me when I bought my bread the next day that it was the best in town, not surprisingly, I later learned, as it was owned by her cousin. It was a small, very typical French country restaurant. More like the front room of someone’s house really. Just eight or so tables it had a limited menu and was very much a locals place to eat. I saw Luc and Richard the first night I went there. They served me the most delicious meal at the most ridiculously low price. Although we passed some pleasantries, after I found to my relief they spoke perfect English, acquired I subsequently understood from having learned it from the ages of five and from having spent a year in Bournemouth and London as part of the course. We didn’t say much that first night. Although there were other restaurants in the village there’s was at the end of the main road nearest to the house that was a couple of kilometres outside the town. I didn’t want to drive for I liked to accompany my meal with a bottle of wine and I’d seen quite a few local gendarmerie around, so I walked. “Hello again,” Luc said brightly as I walked in,, “ table for one is it?” “Yes please,” I replied feeling pleased he’d remembered me. “Hi,” I heard from behind me, “welcome back.” It was Richard coming out of the kitchen holding two plates for the only other diners in there. I sat down and Luc came over and with the rather blunt way of the French he told that I was almost too late for dinner as the restaurant closed at nine and it was nearly eight thirty now. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realise,” as I remembered how quirky restaurant opening hours can be in many of the off the beaten track areas of France. “No problem but we do run out so you may not have much choice, I’m afraid. We only have a very small menu of choices the chef gets in the market each day,” Richard explained brightly. “That’s ok, what do you have?” “Let me check with the chef.” He went away and returning after a few minutes explained that there was either guinea fowl or fish. I chose the former with goats cheese and rocket salad as a starter and a bottle of the local white wine. As I waited Richard came up a couple of times bringing the bread, some olives and the wine. He was friendly asking whether I was on holiday and I told him I was explaining where I was staying. “Oh right Bill and Marcia’s house?” He told me that they often came in here and that he liked them both very much. Just as he was saying that Luc delivered my starter and Richard told him where I was staying. “That’s Marcia’s house isn’t it? Luc asked, aAdding, “they really are lovely people, they come in here a lot and we’ve got to know them well.” “Yes I’ve told her that,” Richard said pushing Luc jokingly as he went on, “she knows we think they’re lovely.” As we were all l laughing the four other people in the restaurant left. Richard poured me the wine to taste and then they left me to get on with the starter. It was absolutely gorgeous as was the guinea fowl and the soft tort dessert. In fact everything was wonderful. One of them brought me coffee and the other offered me the house after dinner drink which was an aniseed tasting liquor. They stood around as I sipped the coffee and the drink and we chatted with them explaining what they did and why they spoke English so well. They were easy ttalk to and seemed interested in England and me so the time passed quickly. They gave me another drink and had a couple themselves pulling chairs up to my table. “I’d better be going,” I said after at least an hour had passed after I’d finished dinner, adding, “I thought you closed at nine.” “We do really but that’s just for food and the locals. For others and especially for pretty women we have no hours,” Luc said smiling broadly. I liked the flattery of course and I sat chatting to them for another half hour or so before I said I’d have to go. I suppose a little nervous thinking of the couple of kilometres walk down the dark street so I was relieved when they said they’ run me home as it was on their way to the small flat they shared in a large farmhouse set back in the woods behind the town. It became my regular. I ate there for the next couple of evenings having the most delicious basic French food prepared and cooked to perfection yet in a simple manner that only the French seem able to get away with. I spent my days walking in the hills and woods, taking drives into Deauville and Honfleur and visiting the beaches and war graves of the Normandy landings. I’d brought my PC with me so I did some writing and kept up to speed with my e-mails and with work and I had the pool so I could swim and top up my tan in the solitude of Marcia’s garden. It was tranquil, beautiful, restful, interesting and fucking boring. I had so much time on my hands, I met so few people, I got sick of woods and hills and if I saw another war grave I think I’d have screamed. I was dying for some fun, some adventure and thrills, some excitement, anything to break the bloody boredom of what I was doing. I began looking forward to my evening meal more than anything else. At least there I got to have some intelligent conversation. And I was getting to know Richard and Luc as well as the chef Henri quite well. They seemed to like having me around so as well as having dinner there most of the first week as that ended I began popping in for a coffee in the mornings. That relieved the bloody boredom a bit. On about the fifth evening we sat chatting longer than usual sharing a bottle of wine. Just the three of us, Henri had gone, “to see his hooker,” Luc had said laughing. “Really?” I asked, surprised at how open he was. “Yes of course, a man like Henri has to have his pleasures doesn’t he?” Luc stated in a very matter of fact fashion. Laughing, Richard added, “and what woman would havehim other than for money?” We all joined it the laughter and I said, “oh that’s not fair or kind Richard.” “No but it’s true Amanda, could you imagine being in bed with his fat sweaty body?” “Well no I couldn’t,” I agreed the vision of the chubby, short Henri, naked coming into my mind. Then out of the blue Luc said, “ “Do you imagine the body of anyone in bed with you Amanda?”