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Gail Overnights

By: HADRIAN M



If you have not read our postings I'll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. We are an early thirties couple, I am 5'10", in reasonable shape. My wife Gail is an exceptionally beautiful and intelligent woman, soft spoken and very shy. She is 5'7" with a young girls figure, long shapely legs, small breasted, and a picture perfect behind. Her light brown hair blondes in the sun and she has the loveliest green eyes. Hadrian @ All rights reserved

Introduction

We arrived in France two weeks ago at the start of our holidays. A week was spent on board a stately yacht in Cannes. We met the yatch owner through Tamara, a delightful and sophisticated British senior who, despite the age difference, has become a close friend of my wife, Gail.

Tamara introduced us to Charlotte and Duncan last year, the owners of the yacht, and they invited us to spend our holiday aboard. Eventually we accepted, thus our week on board. The yacht stay did not work out for us, so we drove to Monte Carlo to spend the next week, then we would travel to Greece for the last part of our holiday. 

During the first days on board Gail and I shared sexual experiences with Charlotte and Duncan. Later, Gail had a liaison with a young man named Richard, and her first experience with two men. Unfortunately, I was not one of the two.

If you would like to know more about our holiday preceding this Monaco stay, you may turn to Literotica - Stories & Pics - Authors Index - Hadrian M - Gail surprises Rian and Gail dives with Richard.

The Story

Gail and I were comfortable in the hotel in Monte Carlo, and well into a daily rhythm of the beach, lunch in boutique restaurants, and playing tennis every day. Evenings we tried new restaurants, Thai and Vietnamese food, a Swiss restaurant for Fondue Chinoise, and we played, Gail flashed outrageously, and we made love at every opportunity.

Our friend Peter returned to Monte Carlo on a Thursday. Peter was an American business man we had met in France three years earlier. He had expanded his interests during the time we knew him, and was now operating his business in the USA and in France and Italy. He kept an apartment in Monaco and Gail and I had used the apartment for a few days, prior to his return.

We still had several days remaining, before we would fly to Greece with Giancomo and Gabriella. Phyllis did not arrive with Peter and when we asked where she was, he informed us that she had to remain with their daughter. He indicated Phyllis might not make it back in time to see us. We later learned they were supporting their daughter through some trying times.

The first evening Peter was back we met him at his apartment building. We invited him to a Vietnamese restaurant we had found, and then we went to a small café just around the street from his apartment. It was the hangout and drink spot for most of the tenants in his building. We sat and talked, Peter asking lots of questions about Gail, about my recent promotion, and what we had been doing since arriving in France this year. At one point he commented, "It seems like the only way I'll get to spend time with you folks is if I buy a boat."

"I'll choose dinner tomorrow," Peter suggested. "Come over for drinks first, I want to show you something."

We didn't play tennis the next day. Gail lolled around in the sun at the hotel pool. I sat nearby under an umbrella reading. At one point Gail ordered a mineral water, and a Pernod water for me. When the drinks were delivered Gail leaned over to pass the drink, "Don't look now," she said. "The man across the pool tried to start a conversation yesterday. He actually got out on our floor just to keep talking."

I immersed myself in my book for some ten minutes, then remembered Gail's comment and raised my eyes, without moving my head. The man was probably late thirties, with a very retired hairline. He also had a very hairy chest, and arms, and looked like he worked out regularly. His whole body was beautifully toned, not body building heavy but muscular. And, I noticed that he took the time to look up towards Gail every few minutes.

Not one to let an opportunity go by, Gail moved her kegs, first placing her left leg on the ground to lean over to the table, then bending her knees and slightly spreading her legs. Each time he had to be gazing straight to her crotch and I could only imagine the state of Gail's bikini between her legs. Many of the guests at the pool were topless. When I mentioned to Gail that we should leave soon, she reached behind her and undid her bikini top, and sat topless the rest of the time we were there. The hairy man sat, awestruck, now even more conspicuous with his starring.

We took a nap in the afternoon and when I woke up Gail was sitting in the bath. I ordered drinks, sat at the tub and chatted with Gail, and we both took a leisurely two hours preparing for dinner.

I watched Gail for some moments just before we were ready to leave. She looked bewitching. She wore a light red dress that had white stripes on the top, with the bottom part a solid red. The top fit snugly, the skirt part was loose and flowing. hanging just above her knees. It had a button down front from neck to waist, and she left the top two buttons open. She wore sandals that had little colored stones, mostly red, and her toenails were painted red as well. We had carnations in our room and one of the yellow flowers was pinned to her hair. She had green and white color around her eyes, and bright red lipstick. Her coloring, from a day in the sun made her look fresh and much younger. "You look so beautiful," I commented, more in awe then as a statement of love. 

When we arrived at Peters apartment I stood in awe once again. Peter looked like an Italian fashion figure. He was wearing a beige linen jacket, dark brown pants and a blue cotton shirt and tie. I laughed, "Peter, you look like a European, where are you buying your clothes. They look great."

Peter laughed, then looking at Gail said, "Do you like the change?" 

"Very stylish," she responded, "Are they Italian made?"

Peter shook his head from side to side being silly, "Brioni, Roma," he said, trying to use an Italian accent.

We opened and poured champagne for three. Peter went into his bedroom and returned with a small portfolio. "I've gone into the wine business," he announced, and he handed Gail and I a small brochure that had a list of ten or fifteen wines. "I'm buying wine in bulk, in Australia and selling it here in Europe to those producers, and he pointed to the brochure. "I'm getting paid in finished wine which we will sell to the USA." Peter stood waiting for our comment. When there was none, he added, "And, I'm going to make you my Chile agent." 

Peter took us to dinner at the Hotel Paris. We were so accustomed to seeking out new and stylish restaurants that we often missed the old great names. As we were led to our table men stopped eating in mid fork to stare as Gail breezed by. Peter knew some of the staff and was particularly flamboyant. I guessed he didn't often walk in with anyone as enchanting as Gail, and he made the most of it. 

Selecting our wine was a story in itself. When the sommelier arrived Peter began a discussion about which white to choose as a starter, and which wine with our meal. I was amazed at Peter's knowledge, and even more surprised at the wonderful wines that he selected that evening. We left the restaurant two hours later, very pleased with the dinner, and lightheaded as well.

We moved from the restaurant to the lobby where Peter insisted we have an after dinner drink. We followed in a line, Peter leading the way as we walked toward a seating area. The guests, mostly a little older crowd, turned to watch as Gail walked through. Halfway there, Peter leaned backward toward Gail, and commented, "You're like a fresh breeze passing through the hall." We reached a seating area with four sofa chairs around a table. Peter placed his arm on a chair waiting for Gail to sit. Gail stepped in front of the chair and when she was seated Peter leaned closer and said, "I was dazed for a moment when I saw you yesterday, I forgot how beautiful you are." It was all meant for Gail even though he spoke loud enough for me to hear.

Gail's head was tilted downward, she looked up at Peter, the way a person does when looking over their glasses, and gave a half smile. Her lips tilted to the left, and she blushed from face to neck, her green eyes flitting over Peter, and whispered, "Thank you Peter, that's nice of you to say."

Peter ordered Port. We informed him that we were fast becoming Port experts, since our host in Cannes continually served Port. Forty five minutes later we left the Hotel Paris, and Peter drove us toward our hotel. We stopped at a traffic light and Peter turned to look at me. Gail was sitting in the back. "I'm going to a vineyard tomorrow, to a wine maker, would you care to come along?"

"Is it an all day thing?" I asked.

"We'd be back late evening, maybe at night," Peter said.

"I'll pass," Gail chimed from the back, "if you don't mind?"

"Me too," I said, "I have a game." I added, "We'll see you the next day."

We were passing Peters apartment building, "Want to stop in for a nightcap, he asked? and turned to look at me. 

When he faced forward again I turned to look at Gail, and she nodded a yes. "Sure," I answered, "You're the one with meetings tomorrow."

We were all pretty loose by the time we plopped onto the couch in Peters apartment. Peter announced he would open another bottle of champagne. I was already feeling the wine and Port and I turned to look at Gail, raising my eyebrows in the process.. She smiled her understanding, then opened both hands at her sides as if to say, so what's one more.

We sat and talked, drank another glass of champagne, then another, and there were still more things to talk about. Gail had been quiet for a while when Peter looked at her and said, "You're being so demure this evening." 

"I am not," Gail insisted, feigning hurt. "I've had just as much to say as both of you, when I can get a word in."

I smiled. Now it was Peters turn to make believe pout, "And you didn't even kiss me hello, when you saw me yesterday," he complained. 

"Oh you poor man," Gail said. Then she rose from the couch and stepped toward Peter who was sitting in a Victorian chair. Gail bent forward, her drink in her left hand, her right hand resting on the chair arm, and she kissed Peter on the mouth. It wasn't a long kiss, but I saw Gail's mouth open as their lips met, and I thought they were touching tongues. 

Gail stood up, and looking at me she said, "You're next, love," then she turned and headed toward the WC.

When Gail returned she walked to the couch and sat on my lap, her right arm around my neck, her left hand having taken up her champagne. And, good to her word, she kissed me, pretty intensely I thought. I continued to chat with Peter for a few more minutes, then I excused myself as I headed toward the WC.

I'm sure I was no longer then two or three minutes, when I returned Peter was sitting where I had been, this time Gail was sitting in his lap, they were kissing. He had his right hand lying across her thighs urging her toward him, and his large left hand was spread across her lower back.

I sat on the couch where Peter had been, watching them. When they came up for air Peter began to move his right hand, touching her thighs. The movement was causing Gail's dress to slowly inch up, revealing more leg, and she did nothing to adjust it. Gail turned to look at me, smiling coyly,"Ri, come here please," she said. When I was beside her she handed me her glass which I placed on the side table, then she held my hand as she spoke, "I told Peter what we had talked about... about trying with three people," and she stared at my face, searching. 

I wasn't surprised, nor angry, just unprepared. My libido hadn't been fired up for this, yet. Gail kissed my hand, then, while still starring, she placed my hand on her breast. Peter was already touching her legs and his hand had moved lower on her back. I touched her breasts, and even bent to kiss her neck, but my attempt at passion, was feeble. Gail sensed my uncertainty and reached for the buttons on her dress, and began to open them all, down to her waist. Peter held the dress as she passed her arms through the sleeves. I stood there foolishly, cupping one breast over her brassiere as Gail leant forward and started kissing Peter again.

I was leaning against Gail's arm, I believe just to be noticed, and I realized that I wasn't getting hard. When Gail broke from kissing Peter she turned toward me and beckoned me with her hands to kiss her. We kissed but it was, or at least I was, passionless. I felt Gail's tongue, and I reciprocated, but my mind was playing through a tumult of thoughts, there was no fervor. While we were kissing I felt movement and I opened my eyes, and watched Peter as he leaned forward to find the hooks and unsnap her brassiere. I watched her breasts bounce free. Gail ended our kiss, I'm sure she sensed my mood, and she turned back to kissing Peter.

I don't know how long this one sided exchange went on. Gail finally stopped the foreplay and, pushing away from Peter, she stood up. She reached for the hem of her dress and lifted her arms, pulling the dress first off her arms, and then over her head, protecting the flower in her hair with her hand. She stood before us, her hips gently flared, looking down knowing that we were absorbing every second of this vision, and realizing the effect of her nakedness, and her transparent beige panties. My Aphrodite, with a tanned body barely showing bikini lines, and long legs that tapered to delicate ankles, still wearing her sandals.

Peter rose and started to undress. He almost ripped off his shirt, his pants slid to the floor a second later. I followed suit, starting with my pants. I didn't have the passion that was sure to be driving Peter, but I didn't want to be outdone. I remembered, Gail was doing this because it was my fantasy.

We were all standing in our underwear, in front of a huge sliding glass patio door, the sea and city lights outside the window. "Let's go in the bedroom," Peter suggested, and he reached out his hand for Gail. I followed the two, watching Gail from behind, her thin figure but a shadow behind the broadness of Peter. 

My stomach was in knots, it actually pained. As we passed the WC I paused, "Excuse me for a minute," I said, but no one was listening. I closed the bathroom door and sat on the closed toilet. I tried taking deep breaths. I questioned myself, was it the alcohol, or was I really not ready for this. Then I thought I had better hurry to be with Gail. Picturing what she might be doing at this moment was torture. I felt like I would be sick, and I turned around and opened the toilet. Nothing. 

Whether I was in the WC five or fifteen minutes, I don't know. When I finally regained my composure I opened the door and walked the few steps down the brightly lit hall. In the bedroom a single lamp was burning on the bedside table, casting light over the top of the bed. The hall light brightly illuminated the end of the bed, which was facing the door and was my first view of Peters back. His naked behind was before me, with his legs spread apart and extended to the end of the bed. His arms were outstretched, resting on both sides of her, his behind clenching as he fucked my wife. All I could see of Gail was a part of her legs, knees bent, spread apart on either side of Peter, and her naked bottom beneath him.

I stood right behind them mesmerized. I could see Peter's behind cheeks clench as he thrust himself into Gail. His cock looked like a black steel rod anchored into Gail, then his balls at the top, then his cock again as it continued into his groin. As he withdrew his cock it glistened fat and shiny. I could see where it entered Gail's pussy, her hole indented each time he thrust into her, and as he withdrew the lips of her pussy were clinging to his cock, as if trying to stop him from pulling out.

The tight knot of his balls would press down, Gail urging him in with her hands on his behind. Each time he humped forward I heard, "Uuhhh," from Gail, in a breathy sound like she were sucking in air. I actually took a half step backward to better see, and I watched his thick and shiny cock slide out of her, and it kept on withdrawing…it went on forever. I imagined that it was sliding out from the depths of her belly. Then Peter pushed forward again and as his balls neared her behind, again the breathy "Uuhhh." This went on and on, Peter never quickening his pace. Then Gail whispered, "Do it…do it…Uuhhh," startling me with the pleading tone of her voice. 

Peter responded by leaning a little to his left but he continued with the same rhythm. I stood stone still, I don't think they knew I had entered the room. His cock came out even further than before, again I was surprised at the length, I tried to imagine were it was ending up in her belly. I started to touch myself. Gail did it again, "Uuhhh," the same breathy sound, "Do it… cum in me, Ooahhh." Gail's hand grasped Peter more firmly, causing her fingers to dig into the cheeks of his behind. 

"Ooahhh," Gail sounded again, and this time Peter started thrusting harder. "Ooahh… yes, Ohhh, yeees," the word yes sounding raspy and long. Gail's legs spread further, her heels spurring into his thighs, "Ooahhh," she sounded and then she started to whimper, "Huh, ahuh, I'm cumming," then again whimpering "Ahuh, ahhh, ahuh" over and over again. Peter kept humping into her as Gail whimpered, then she suddenly exclaimed, "Oohh I'm cumming, ohahh, yes," and she shook and trembled with her orgasm.

Peter fired by her orgasm, started making growling sounds, "Aachh," as Gail's hands again reached for his behind, now pleading with him, "Yes, cum… cum in me." Peter growled again and Gail responded, "Do it…cum…do it." When Peter reached his time he thrust forward into Gail with such force that the whole bed moved. He sounded a deep throaty growl "Aagghh, aaghh," and his behind cheeks clenched as he spurted his cum into Gail… then again clenching and growling "Aaghh," and I could see him twitch each time his cum burst free, and Gail whispered, "Ooh yes… I feel it."

Peter stayed on top of Gail, still inside her. He softly spoke, "You don't know how sweet it is to love you again." I cringed; his using the word love really bothered me. 

Finally, Gail remembered, "Where's Ri," she said. She moved her head to the left and saw me standing at the foot of the bed. She just looked, didn't say anything. Peter had still not turned enough to see me. Gail moved so that Peter came out of her. At the same time I turned around and left the room. 

I stood by the sliding patio door and looked out at the city, and the sea beyond. Moments later Gail was behind me. She placed her left arm around my waist and rested her cheek against my shoulder. After a minute or two she said, "Let's go," and she stepped to the couch and started to get dressed.

When Gail left the bedroom she had asked Peter to stay. As we left I mustered as much bravado as I could and called out, "Goodnight Peter." His response wafted back, "Night Ri."

We walked all the way back to the hotel. Gail had her hand hooked on my arm for much of the way, then she took my hand and it swayed with hers as we walked. We didn't say a word. It was almost 2 AM when we reached the hotel, but there were people exiting an elevator, laughing among themselves as they left. Thankfully we rode up alone. Gail's first words were, "Please don't be angry Ri, it was what you wanted… I thought you would be pleased."

When we were in the room I sat on the end of the bed and told Gail how I felt about what happened. She took my face between her hands and kissed my cheeks, my mouth, and my forehead, and expressed how sorry she was. I undressed and got in bed. After spending a while in the bathroom, Gail emerged, completely naked, and crawled beneath the sheets. She lay on her side beside me and we spoke for a while. Then her hands started exploring, touching my thighs, my cock, hefting my balls. It felt good but, it didn't excite me.


Gail Overnights



"You want to love me, Ri?" she asked. 

"No. Not tonight, I'm emotionally drained." I rolled over but I didn't sleep for a long while.

We rose late in the morning and had a breakfast brunch at a small self service café a few blocks away. I had a tennis game late in the afternoon, and Gail made an appointment for the same time, to have her nails manicured. We decided to sit by the pool in the hotel again. The hairy chest man was there as well, and the pool was full with a group of young university age American girls and boys, talking loudly, having fun. Their presence made the pool area come alive, and it was a pleasure to watch their antics.

I took the car and left at four PM planning to return about six. I returned to the hotel at six thirty and Gail was still out. It gave me an opportunity to call Francoise, a friend that lived in Nice. I had had a liaison with Francoise while on holiday in France, retaliating because Gail had slept with her husband.

I had promised Francoise that I would meet her before we left for Greece, and I realized that time was running out. I called Nice. A man answered, I assumed it was her husband Roger. I asked for Francoise and he simply said, "Moment." Francoise came to the phone and said, "Rian, I'm so glad you called."

"How did you know it was me?" I asked.

"My brother, he said it was a foreigner."

"Am I the only foreigner…?"

Francoise interrupted, before I finished, "You're the only one," she laughed.

We arranged to meet at one in the afternoon, the next day, at the same hotel we had met in the week before.

I dozed off and woke a little after eight. I called the hotel spa and they informed that the beauty salon closed at six. I ordered a salad from room service, read my book, watched TV, and worried. I checked our mobile phone for messages at least a hundred times. I called the front desk for messages. This was very unlike Gail. At ten I called Peter, no answer. I didn't bother to leave a message.

At 11:30P I left a note in the room, and left. I checked the hotel bar. It was crowded; the young American group were all there. No Gail. I went down to the garage for our car and drove to the café around the street from Peter's apartment. It was after midnight. I checked my mobile again. I tried calling Peter again. On the second ring I heard, "Hello," when he answered. I told Peter why I was calling, asking, if Gail was there. He didn't answer at first then he said, "Gail's not here Rian, I haven't spoken to her since last night." 

"Thanks Peter, I'll just head back to the hotel. She'll show up."

"Where are you," Peter asked.

"I'm downstairs, in my car, in front of your building."

"Why don't you come up for a minute," he suggested.

I was ready for any suggestion so I went upstairs. Peter was concerned, for me, and for Gail. He made coffee and worked at trying to keep my thoughts occupied, telling me about his trip to the vineyards. At just after one AM I thanked Peter and left. I parked the car and rode to the lobby level. 

I checked the bar again, it was closing, and I walked to the elevator with a group of eight or ten of the young Americans. All the elevators were in the lobby, one door was closing as we approached. I wound up with three people and I asked the girl to please press eight, as I moved toward the back.

When the doors opened on my floor I stepped into the hallway and turned right toward our room. Gail was walking down the long hallway, her head down maybe a hundred feet ahead of me. She still didn't see me. When she arrived at our door she stopped, and reached under the hem of her skirt and adjusted something. She brushed her hands over her skirt, touched her hair and then, as she started to put her card in the door, she saw me.

"Ri… you scared me."

"You scared me too," I replied. As we entered the room I added, "I'm glad you're safe." After a while, I added, "Maybe I should call Peter."

"Why? Gail asked.

"He's worried too."

"You called him? Gail asked.

"Yes, I went there, he consoled me."

"Oh Ri," Gail said, her words reflecting empathy, "I'm so sorry."

We said many things during the next hour. Gail was remorseful. I was very angry but worked hard at not being abusive with my words. Last night was bad enough, tonight was a disaster. Gail asked if I wanted to talk. I knew she meant talk about what she had been doing. I said no. I finally said that I was tired and wanted to sleep, "I have a game tomorrow," I lied. Some five minutes later I added, "We had better think about rearranging our Greece trip." I really had just thought saying that would make her feel bad, and I wanted to be hurtful. It wasn't something I was considering.

In the morning we lounged around the room not knowing what to say to one another. As Gail readied for a bath she stuck her head from the bathroom door and broke the ice, "I thought for sure that you would come."

Dismayed I responded, "How could I come?" I replied. 

Gail responded, "I told you… just call. I thought you didn't care to come, or you would have called if you wanted me to come back," and then she closed the bathroom door.

I stood dumbstruck. Did she leave a message? I asked myself. I picked up the phone, there was no message sound. The light on the phone was not on, or blinking. I called the operator and asked if I had messages. She excused herself and returned thirty second latter. "Yes Mr. M. you have several messages in your voice mail. Please dial 4711"

I asked the operator "Shouldn't the light blink if I have a message?" The operator assured me that it would. I told her it had not and she had me hang up. A moment later the phone rang, "Is the light blinking sir," she asked. "No," I replied. "I'll report it to engineering, she said.

I dialed 4711 and retrieved my messages. Both were from Gail and one from Peter from this morning. . Gail's message began, "Hi baby. Guess where I am?" She was whispering into the phone. "I'm with Mr. Hairy Chest," Gail giggled; I knew she had been drinking, "In room 506. We could try …three people again, if you'll come down. He's nice… American. Come down as soon as you get back. Love you baby."

Gail's next message was from 6:30 last night. "Hey Ri, where are you?" She was whispering. "You know, Jeff agreed that if I stay he'll suck…remember when I told you what I'd like to see you…," she paused unwilling to say the words she thought, "come down Ri," and in her most alluring tone, "I'm waiting."

I couldn't believe the turn of events and I felt miserable about it. I also didn't understand why Gail started the liaison and, more importantly, why she didn't stop and come back to the room, when I didn't show up.

When Gail was in the bathroom I packed a few things in my tennis bag. We decided to breakfast downstairs. Gail dressed in khaki shorts that had a bib type top. Under the bib she wore a light green cotton shirt. From the side you could tell she was not wearing a brassiere. Her hair was still wet and she wore almost no makeup. My, I thought to myself, she just always looks so appealing.

At breakfast I mentioned that I had to leave a little after 11 AM. Gail assumed it was to play tennis. We went back to the room about 10:30 and I left shortly afterwards. As I walked out the door I simply said, "See you," none of the usual kiss goodbye, or be careful chatter.

I went to the garage and headed straight to Nice. I drove the coastal road, making the most of the picturesque towns and tourists barely dressed. I arrived at the Vendome Hotel at 1:20 PM and Francoise was seated in the lobby waiting for me. We exchanged hugs and cheek rubs, and held hands while we spoke. 

Francoise was beaming. She looked so elegant. She was wearing a white knit ladies shirt, with the three button collar open, drawing my eyes to her chest. You could see she had nothing underneath. The shirt was short, just barely reaching the top of her skirt, revealing the skin of her tummy and narrow waist, from time to time.

Her skirt was black and white, a few inches above her knees, and had a pretty large split on one side. She was wearing leather sandals, and her long legs were white, missing the summer tan that everyone seemed to boast, but she still looked ever so attractive.. 

After ten minutes of talk I excused myself and made my way to the reception desk, Francoise had booked a room in my name, as we had agreed.

We took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked a marathon mile to get to our room. I dropped my tennis case on the floor and turned to Francoise as the door was closing. We just held one another for some time, touching each others back, I would draw back to look at her face, touch her cheeks or hair, then hold her close again.

"It's been a long time Rian, hasn't it?" Francoise said.

"It has, but I have often thought of our time together, then it doesn't seem so distant."

Francoise leaned back to look at me, and laughed. "You always seem to find the nice thing to say."

We undressed. I watched her as she took off her skirt, I marveled at her strong legs, and her behind, and the way it stood high and perfectly rounded, jutted out just enough to make you notice, and want to touch. Her small breasts were the right size to love. They were shaped like rain drops, hanging softly on her thin frame. She had a two inch patch of dark hair above her vagina, and when she stepped out of her panties, I could see the lips of her pussy, and my heart skipped a thump.

Both naked now, we stripped back the bed cover and climbed beneath the sheet. I propped up two pillows and stretched my right arm out, and Francoise nestled close. I could feel the hair on her vagina pressed against me, and her breasts on my arm, We touched each other for a least thirty minutes. I had my hands, and my fingers in every part of her body. I touched her knees, I felt her breast, and ran my hand down her back and felt the curve where her bottom began. I slipped my hand between her cheeks. I touched her anus, I played with her clit, and I put a finger in her and tasted it.

Franscoise touched me. Her fingers touched my lips and she pressed one finger into my mouth. She touched my chest, rubbing it, her palms sliding over my nipples. She reached under me and played with the cheeks of my behind. Her finger found my back hole and she pressed. She took my balls in both hands and moved and hefted, and then she caressed my cock. After many minutes of touching my cock she lifted the sheets and slipped beneath, resting her head on my thighs, and she sucked my cock. Slowly, not to make me cum, but because she was enjoying it.

We both wanted to wait as long as possible before we made love. And when it happened, Francoise had her back to me. One leg was stretched out beside me and the other pulled up toward her chest, when she whispered, "Put it in me."

She was wet, and tight and barely moved as I slid myself in and out, just savoring the warmth and wetness. Francoise moved so that my cock slipped out of her, and she turned to climb over me. When she moved her face above me, she lowered her lips to mine and softly probed until our tongues met and we began searching. We kissed, and twisted our heads to get deeper, and we sucked each others tongue, and lips. She kissed so beautifully. 

Francoise crawled a little higher and spread her legs. My cock found the way. I pressed upwards and felt the head enter between her lips, then slide slowly, steadily, into her pussy. When I was completely buried inside her, we kissed again. This time it was with a more immediate passion, with occasional thrusts from me to push deeper into her, or her sliding forward to feel the friction of my cock.

Her eyes would close and she would pout her lips, concentrating on what we were doing. She would look at me, and, if my eyes were open I would look into her eyes, watching the passion build. 

I felt a kindred soul to this lady I head met so long ago, and shared so little time with. She made love to me with a quiet assurance, with an openness that I had never before seen in a woman. We didn't fuck. We loved, in spite of the fact that we were not in love.

We made love for thirty minutes or more, before Francoise started to sigh with each movement. Her head went to the side, leaning to her right, her eyes closed, she constantly licked her lips, "Ooh oui," and after several breathy gasps, I felt something wet squirt on my groin, then Francoise humped forward and buried me deep in her belly, sighing, "Ah oui," three or four times as her orgasm swept through her. She collapsed on my chest, her hands on my arms and laid there, eyes closed, without saying a word.


I touched her behind and felt for her wetness as she lay there. I placed my hand between her legs and slide my hand flat against her pussy. She moved her legs apart offering me more. Some five or ten minutes later Francoise moved to her left and lay on her back. With her knees bent she opened her legs exposing her wet pussy and said, "Come to me Rian, love me now."

I bent over watching my cock slid into her. She was very wet, and I thought, very soft. I started slowly but it didn't last long. As I slid deeply Francoise would turn of bend her body in such a way as to press against my cock. I slid freely in and felt strong pressure sliding out. My pace quickened until I felt my orgasm nearing. "I'm cumming," I panted. 

"Oui, Rian, you cum," and she pushed herself forward milking my cock with such intensity that it caused me to thrust in rhythm with the sucking feeling she had created. Little bolts of energy coursed through me charging toward my groin and I grasped hold of her as I grew faint from the intensity.

I stayed in the same position for a long time, Francoise's arms wrapped around the middle of my back, When I rolled to my side, I looked at her and she returned my gaze with a smile of comfortable assurance. 

We talked for a very long time, fondling each other while we spoke, with no motive other than to touch one another. "I feel very good being with you," I said. 

"Yes, I have that sense too," Francoise replied, then she moved to her side, her back facing me, and she scooted very close. Her behind spooned into me and I wrapped my arms around her, and we talked.

Some fifteen or twenty minutes later Francoise moved, leaving a small space between us, and she stretched her arm behind her, her hand searching for my cock. She found me, soft and still sticky, and she started rubbing the head of my cock, hard against the cheek of her behind. My cock was still sensitive and the hard rubbing sent shivers running through me. It wasn't too long before I started to react. As my cock hardened she would rub more towards the crack of her behind. I was soon between her cheeks, and as she rubbed the head of my cock slid over her back hole. Every sensory feeling in my body was focused on the tip of my cock. The sensation was electric. 

Francoise raised her legs a bit higher, almost in a fetal position, and now, as the rubbing caused my cock to pass over her hole, she would push back towards me. I felt like each time she would rub past her hole, my cock pressed a little deeper. I placed my right hand to my mouth and filled my fingers with spittle, and placed my hands between us, to wet myself. When she next rubbed against her hole, the very tip of my cock entered her behind. I was poised to rush in, but we just lay still. Her hand was still holding my cock. We waited a minute or more, then she moved ever so hesitantly pressing against me, and more of my cock slid into her behind.

The excitement over the next many minutes, as my cock slowly inched deeper into her behind, was incredible. When I was buried into her, she sighed, and reached her hand behind her and placed it on my thigh, gripping the base of my behind.

I wrapped my arms around her to cup and feel one breast, and began a slow and gentle humping motion. The tightness of her entrance defied belief. We made no sounds at first. Just slow entrance, then withdrawal with the whole of her anus grasped tightly around my cock.

I reached for Francoise's hand that was resting on my thigh, and I gently raised her arm and guided her hand to between her legs. "Touch yourself," I said. 

I felt my body on fire, wanting to extract more feeling from each movement. Francoise started to move. What started as tentative touching with her hand had become a steady movement; now She was thrusting back, meeting my forward movement with increasing force. 

Francoise's orgasm came upon her like a bolt of lightening, and she began to quietly sound a howl. It seemed to come from somewhere deep within her, and it spurred me to grab her hips and hump deeper and with more force. Her orgasm started with a low and raspy, "Eeehhhhh," and then she twitched and sounded, Eeehhh, ahh Oui," I couldn't contain myself any longer and I slowed, and used less force to better feel the sensation of sliding into her. And, seconds later I groaned, "Aaacchhh," as I erupted into the depths of her bowels. 

We lay still for a long time. My cock quickly shrank, and the tightness of her behind squeezed it out dripping with cum. Francoise's first words were, "Rian, c'est pour moi…" then she realized she was speaking French and corrected to English, "It was for me very wonderful."

"Me too," I whispered into the back of her head.

We lay huddled together for a very long time. I didn't want to let her go. Finally, when I heard her tummy gurgle, I asked, "Would you like to get something to eat?" "Yes." She replied. We rose slowly to dress. Every time we passed near one another we reached to touch, or kiss. When we were presentable, we made ready to leave. Since I planned to spend the night, I placed my tennis bag on the end of the bed, Francoise asked, "Are you coming back?"

I nodded, "Yes, I think I'll spend the night."

"You will? she asked, in a surprised tone. We were walking down the hall toward the elevators. Francoise looked at me questioningly, not understanding.

I again replied, "Yes," then thinking it was unfair to not offer some explanation, I added, "I'd like to be away from Gail tonight."

Francoise stopped, starred at my face for a moment, then continued walking without a response. "Not because of me?" she asked,

"No."

Francoise nodded her head yes, acknowledging my no. After a long pause she whispered, "Can I stay with you?"

My eyes doubled in size as I questioned, "Can you?"

She nodded and whispered, "I think I can, I will see, I will call."

We walked a block from the hotel and stopped in a small bar and ordered drinks and sandwiches. Francoise took her mobile phone from the small duffel she was carrying, and made a call. Lots of fast French was exchanged, of which I understand very little. As she made another call, I opened my mobile to check on my messages. It showed two messages. I had the volume turned off so that I would not hear it ring, or signal voice mail.

Francoise organized being away for the night. Here we were at six in the afternoon, with no change of clothes, and the whole night ahead of us. And, we made the most of it, wandering the streets, stopping to have a single drink in three different places, and eating pizza for dinner. 

We walked back to the hotel hand in hand. We crossed the hotel lobby at 9:30, went to our room, and undressed without a word spoken. I was naked seconds later and I sat on a chair in front of the desk, watching Francoise. She bent forward as she stepped from her panties and I took pleasure watching her long legs raise, the exposure it created between her thighs, and the just right silhouette of her behind.

Covered by the bed sheet, we moved close to one another and explored. I felt a particular need to kiss Francoise I raised myself on my knees just beside her chest and started by kissing her forehead, then her eyes and ears. I twisted my head to angle into her neck and she giggled at the first brush of mouth that tickled her. I made love to her breast, and kissed every inch of her stomach, then brushed lightly across and through her pussy hair, and across the shaven puff of soft flesh around her slit. 




Gail Overnights



The entire while, that I had been softly kissing her, I only used my mouth. My hands were supporting me, resting on the bed as I leaned over. When I reached her legs I took them in my hands and continued until I had her foot in my hands which I turned and moved to allow me to kiss her toes. I had never really been that intimate with someone's foot, I liked it, and I thought I must remember to do it with Gail. Then I realized it was the first time I had thought of Gail this evening.

Francoise had an orgasm when I loved her with my mouth. She made soft sounds as the feeling came upon her, her fingers running through my hair, then gently urging my head into her. When I slid upwards and lay upon her, she opened her legs and thrust herself upward to find me, then gently urged my behind forward inching my cock into her willing and wet pussy. 

For hours we loved, exhausted ourselves, touched each other, then loved again. It was well after midnight when we fell asleep.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of Francoise's movement in the room. We breakfasted on coffee and croissants and were ready to leave shortly after eight. We shared knowing smiles without commenting on what we did. All had been expressed the past night.

I walked her to her car and kissed her goodbye beside her car. Her last words in her beautifully French accented English were, "I wish all is good for you with Gail."

I waited until I was back in the hotel in Monte Carlo, before I turned on my telephone I had eleven missed calls and six messages. One message from Peter said, "Hey Rian, give me a call, maybe I can help." The first message from Gail said "Hi sweetheart, I'm in the hotel…call, love you." The second message, almost an hour later, "Ri, where are you. Call. Just to say you're ok." The other three messages simply said, "It's me, call."

I made the long walk from the elevator to our room, wondering if Gail would be in, and the kind of reception I would receive. It was ten-thirty in the morning when I slid my card into the key slot and pushed open the door on green. 

Gail was standing in the window with her back to the door, her head turned when she heard me enter. She was gazing out the window, mostly standing behind a sheer curtain to keep from being seen. Her right leg was stretched to the floor, her left leg, which she was leaning on, was propped on the window sill. She was wearing a brassiere and panties. While she looked at me in the entrance, I couldn't help but take long notice of her right leg, long and trim, and the brown lace boxer shorts panties. They were tight, and see through, and she looked very sexy wearing them. 

"Hi Ri," she said, her smile a painful twitch of her lips. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm okay," I smiled with my response, "Thanks." Gail wasn't wearing makeup and I noticed her eyes were puffy and red. "You look like you have been crying," I said.

Gail looked at me for many moments, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Did you think I wouldn't cry?" Painful moments later, Gail wiped her eyes with the back of her fingers. "I'm sorry Ri, I hate myself when I'm so wimpy."

"I'm sorry too," I said, and even as I said it, I realized how unfeeling it sounded parroting her words. But I didn't know how better to respond. I finally added, "I thought you'd go out, wouldn't worry about it."

She just nodded her head. I didn't know if the response was 'no I did not go out,' or if the head shake was a sort of, 'how could you be so stupid.' I threw my tennis case on the floor near the closet and kicked off my shoes. Gail untangled her leg from the window and walked toward me. I could she the shadow of hair through her panties and it caused a tingle in my groin.

When she was in front of me she stood, arms at her side, and just toppled against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I gently placed my arms on her back without squeezing her to me, but it felt so right to be holding her, and I breathed a quiet sigh.

"That's the first time we've done something like that to one another," Gail whispered.

I nodded, wondering which deed she was talking about.

Gail said, "I was so confused. I called Peter, sorry. Did you get my messages?"

I brought my arms more closely around her, "This morning… I got Peters message as well."

Gail turned her head to look at me. Close up I could see her eyes were red from crying. It troubled, me, and I felt the beginnings of a chasm in my stomach, and I sighed in an effort to fill the space. "I'm confused Ri," she whispered. "I'm doing something very wrong… and the last thing I want to do is hurt you."

I nodded. She placed her head against me again, this time putting her arms on my waist. "I'm cold," she said, and she turned toward the bed. "Please lie with me."

We stepped to the bed and Gail pulled the blankets back, leaving just a sheet. I lay on one side and Gail sat on the bed then scooted over to my side and covered us both with the sheet.

We talked for a very long time. Maybe some good came from the pain I had caused her. I was amazed that she still had not asked me where I had been. I brought up the last week culminating with Peter and the 'hairy man.' 

"You're right," Gail said. "I thought about it. I guess because I like it now, I'm not being as sensitive to you."

I didn't understand what she was talking about. "I don't understand your point," I quietly said.

Gail looked at me for a moment. She was now lying on her right side, pressed against me. The wrist of her left arm lay across my left arm; her hand reached my chest, her fingers resting just below my nipple. Her left leg was bent and resting on my leg, with her foot wedged between my lower thighs. "Ri, remember when we started?" Gail was talking in a half whisper. "Every week you asked me to flash the musician in the Sheraton. Remember how long it took me to do that?" She paused, "Well when I did it I really didn't think he would have interest, and I was ashamed." Gail's finger pressed against my nipple as if making a point, "And when he finally looked, and I saw the way he was looking at me, I got excited." 

Gail stopped talking, and I added to her recollection, "I remember when you said, "He's looking at me Ri." "I remember it well."

"But the best part," Gail continued, "was when we got home. All those questions you asked. Your voice would get low, you would get so excited. I loved that… I loved that so much… when you loved me and asked questions. I loved you so much…those times. You were getting excited, and I was getting more excited too, every day, it was so special."

We lay side by side for a good five minutes, not saying a word. She had opened the Genie jar of memories. I knew where my thoughts were, I wondered where Gail's reflections were taking her.

"I was trying to make up for the other night…with Peter." She said. "That's why I arranged with Jeff," Gail said.

"Who's Jeff… what did you arrange? I asked.

"I felt bad about leaving you out… with Peter," Gail admitted, "so I tried to arrange something with Mr. Hairy, that's Jeff."

I bristled, "Why did you run off without me if you were…' arranging" something?" I asked.

Gail responded immediately, making me realize that she'd been thinking about it, "I still have a hard time when you're there baby," I sensed it pained her to have said that. "I thought that if I were with him first… that it would be easier."

"Why does my presence make it difficult, it should make it easier," I said, with a conviction I believed.

"I don't know Ri," she was speaking very softly, shaking her head as she spoke. "With Peter the other night, I had to stop looking at you, to shut my eyes. That's was why…that's why I let go."

"Does my being there turn you off?"

"No…no," Gail said. "It turns me off to everything else. "I can't love Peter, and I can't fuck you. When I'm fucking Peter I can't feel love at the same time. And, well…with you Ri, I can only feel love." 

Gail continued, "I thought I'd start with Jeff, and then when you came back you'd join me. That's what I told him before I called you."

I felt myself weakening and I resisted, "Why didn't you come back when I didn't show up."

"That was my mistake, Gail said. "I'm sorry. I was so into fucking…. I guess."

"For six of seven hours? I interrupted.

Gail whispered, "It was…," she paused, then simply stated, "Yes."

I asked, "Was he that good?" 

"Mmmn," she softly sounded. "Please let me tell you about it baby."

For the next hour and a half Gail told me the story. She volunteered almost every detail, and I asked her questions about the rest.

"I went down to the lobby to get a magazine. I was passing the chairs at the end of the lobby when this man says, "I don't believe my luck." He was looking at me smiling. "I wondered if I stayed here long enough if you or your husband would pass by. Please excuse me, my name is Dr. Jeffery P. and I have been standing here with the hope of running into you or your husband."

Gail went on, "I asked him, why? He said, "Well first because I heard you speaking English." It was obvious that Jeff was an American. And he went on. In the first five minutes I knew all about him. He was a doctor, a plastic surgeon. He was just divorced. He shouldn't have come on this trip alone, he said, so soon after his divorce. And then he says, "As a plastic surgeon, if ever I wanted to make the perfect women, I'd copy you." I blushed, and he laughed."

"Pretty transparent comment," I said to Gail.

"I know," she said. "It sounds silly. But you had to see how amateur he was at trying to talk to a girl; you would have seen they were not lines. And he tried so hard to be courteous."

Gail continued," I agreed to have a drink with him, and we sat in the lobby, near the bar. I didn't tell him that you were playing…he thought you were upstairs. He was really very pleasant. Actually, later on I thought he was sort of childlike in a nice way. We talked 
about everything but mostly, he asked questions about Europe. "It's his first visit," Gail informed me, as if it was of paramount interest. She went on, "While we were talking he answered his mobile." Gail laughed, "It was his mother calling him from Israel. He said she was visiting there, and that she called him every day."

I humphed a laugh, I don't know why, at Gail's description of his mother relationship. Actually I thought it was nice. 

Gail continued, "He kept saying over and over again how pretty I was, how beautiful, how nice, and it really sounded silly. But it also sounded sincere, he just didn't know how to be suave, I liked that. At one point he said, I'd do anything to have a woman like you, and he watched my face for reaction. I guess I blushed, and I didn't respond. He must have felt awkward because he added jokingly, "I'd even take your husband too."

"I answered, also joking, "Now my husband may be interested in that…" and he looked at me surprised and exclaimed, "Really?" "And, that was when the thought occurred to me," Gail said.

Gail had stopped talking. I looked down at the top of her head, "What thought?" I asked.

It seemed forever but she finally answered, "Remember when we were playing at what we would like to see… and I told you what I thought would be exciting?" Gail asked, in a barely audible whisper.

"When you said you'd like to see me being sucked by a gay man?" I asked.

"I didn't say that," Gail responded. "I said I'd like to see you get a blow job from a man."

"Wouldn't he be gay if he did that?" I questioned.

Gail was thinking about her response. "Not necessarily," she stated. "Two days ago I would probably have said yes." Again a pause, then barely in a whisper, "Jeff wasn't gay…and he would do it to you." 

Gail went on to tell about their meeting, how she admitted to him that I was away playing tennis. She questioned him, of course hypothetically, asking if he was sincere about the 'husband too' statement he made. She told him that she envisioned that as meaning oral play. He seemed surprised, thought about it for a minute, then said that if it enabled him to get close to her, he'd do that too. She asked and he confirmed it would be a first for him.

Gail explained how her excitement grew. First with the thought that she would watch us, then that we would both ravish her. She still felt funny at the thought of me being there, and she confessed that because of that feeling, she decided to be with him first. 

Gail inched her face closer to mine and pressed her breast hard against my arm. Her hand rested on my thigh but she wasn't touching me. "I decided I would go to his room, if he asked," Gail said, "And it wasn't long before he invited me. When he asked I believe he expected a no. When I said that I would go, his face lit up and he exclaimed, "I can't believe that you accept." I smiled and told him I'd meet him in ten minutes. He reminded me his room number three times, and I left for our room to freshen up."

I interrupted Gail, "Why didn't you leave me a note?"

Gail explained her thoughts, "I wasn't sure that I'd want to go through with it, with your being there… also I wasn't sure that he really meant that he would suck you."

When I knocked at his room door he opened it instantly, like he'd been standing inside, waiting. I walked in and he suggested I sit down, while he opened two small white wine bottles, and filled two glasses. I sat on an armchair not more then a foot away from his bed. He sat opposite me, on the bed. We talked a few minutes and he suggested, "You can put your feet here," and he patted the bed beside him. I did that, and a moment later he touched my legs, then adored my ankle, then …"

I interrupted, "What were you wearing?"

"My khaki shorts and the white button blouse, and sandals," Gail answered softly.

"Anything else…underneath?"

"Nothing else," she said, shaking her head.

I could picture her shorts, a little loose around the legs, and I wondered if he saw anything when her legs were raised. Now I was caught up in the story and I wanted her to continue. "Go ahead," I said softly, trying to sound composed. Her hand started moving near my groin and she touched my cock through my pants. "Take your pants off Ri, please."

Gail continued, "He touched my legs for some time then he knelt in front of me and started kissing my thighs. He did that for a long time. He pushed the shorts to the top of my leg and kissed as near as he could get to my… between my legs. He was very tentative when he reached to unzip my shorts. He unbuttoned the top button and started to pull down the zipper, then he stopped, and he rose up on his knees and leaned forward to kiss me. He tried so hard, he actually whimpered when he was kissing me." "Like I do when I cum," Gail added. 

"After a long time kissing he went back to my shorts. This time he unzipped them hurriedly, and I lifted when he started to pull them off. He was looking at my pussy the moment the shorts moved downwards, and he was so absorbed, he forgot to continue taking them off. He kept saying,"Oh my… oh how beautiful, and with the back of his hand he gently touched my thighs and the hair, and my pussy." Gail laughed, sounding a "Huuh, It was like he was worshipping it," she said.

"We moved to the bed, I still had my shirt on," Gail continued. "I watched as he took off his clothes. He was real hairy, but you know Ri, he was totally shaven around his groin, and it looked nice. 

"How was he built?" I asked.

"He was pretty muscular," she answered.

I laughed to myself, "His cock," I said, "Was he big."

I felt Gail's head nod, "He was big. Thick big."

I didn't respond so Gail continued. "When he was on the bed he lay beside me and kissed me again. When he touched me between the legs I took hold of his cock. "It was fat," she confirmed. "It couldn't have been more then a minute later when he was between my legs, rubbing himself against me, edging in, inch by inch. It took a while, it hurt at first."

"Was he bigger then Peter?" I asked.

"Thicker, much thicker," she whispered back.

"He fucked me for ten or fifteen minutes until he squealed, "I'm cumming," and he erupted, literally erupted Ri." I couldn't feel him cum, but he squirmed and groaned for the longest time, and when his cock came out his cum gushed out of me."

"You didn't cum?" I questioned. I knew that in normal circumstances Gail cums easily. In an exciting situation like she described, I would have expected her to cum.

"No," not then, she answered. "I think he was so thick that it numbed me a little. It wasn't that special." Gail began again. "He went into the bathroom and returned with a washcloth and started to clean and wipe me, very tenderly. For a good few minutes he fussed over my pussy, cleaning me, then he threw the cloths on the chair I had been sitting in, and he bent down and started to suck between my legs. The feeling was electrifying. He twisted and turned his head, trying to get deeper, he sucked and stuck his tongue inside, and I had my first orgasm with his mouth. I told him it was wonderful."

"He continued to touch me, everywhere, my face, my ears, my knees, just everywhere. He rolled me over and touched by back, my legs, and my behind. He kissed my behind and pulled my cheeks apart and put his mouth over my… back there. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes later, he got between my legs again, and started to rub his still soft cock through my lips. After a while he was hard.

"This time he slid right into me, I could feel him. He wasn't as hard. He went slowly, and it was bringing me to orgasm again. I didn't want him to cum, and I tried to control myself. I thought that you would be back soon and would come to join us. I asked him if he would like to do this while my husband was with us. I told him I wanted to try two men together. He simply said yes, he would try it. I asked him if he would suck my husband cock, for me to see, and he said yes, he would. Ri, two seconds after he said yes, I had another orgasm."

All the last while Gail had been touching my cock with her fingertips, then squeezing, and now I was rock hard. Gail questioned, "Can I get on top of you baby?" I didn't answer but I moved to lift the sheet and I watched Gail raise her feet to slip off her panties. Gail moved over me and sat over my groin. She bent her head forward simultaneously reaching her right hand behind her, and took hold of my cock. She instantly found the center and barley moved my cock head around her center, and then pressed downward. As I was sliding into her she raised her head to look at me. Her eyes were still red, her hair tousled, and she wore the slightest hint of a smile. I studied her eyes. She blushed at the intensity of my gaze. Was what I saw a look of her having conquered, or was it the depth of her affection? I pondered that for a moment but I couldn't concentrate, she felt too good. Her movements were taking control of me. I watched her take of her brassiere; her nipples were taut, with little bumps on the areola, then she closed her eyes and her head lolled back, and she joined me in making love.

Gail lay on my chest, I was still in her. She was so wet that my now semi soft cock slipped and slid around so easily that the sensation kept me on edge. 

"Finish telling me what happened," I asked, Gail turned her head so that her mouth was near my ear.

"It took me some time before he could touch me again. I was so sensitive. Jeff simply kept touching me, in the strangest places. Under my arms, he bent my leg and touched under my knee. It was like he was exploring. I even asked, "Are you doing plastic surgeon research on me?" He laughed, and said "No, but I'm absolutely captivated with you." He said he could touch me all day, I believed him." 

Gail continued, "Thirty minutes later he made love to me again, with his mouth." 




Gail Overnights



I commented, "I thought you were fucking him?"

Gail was unshaken by my words and whispered, "I was fucking Ri… he was making love."

"We continued touching, then cumming, then talking. He had three orgasms. He was also the touchiest person I ever met. He just loved touching me. 

"Were you enjoying it?" I asked.

Gail must have considered her answer, "I know this sounds silly… it made me feel pretty, and special."

I considered my response, "You are, both, especially to me."

Gail moved her mouth and kissed me below my ear. "And you for me baby," she said. After a few moments silence "And, I'm not upset about you and Charlotte."

I didn't know what prompted this switch but I answered, "You shouldn't be."

"I know you were with her," Gail invented. "I called her too…when you didn't answer. They didn't answer either."

Whew, I thought, what a relief. I won't have any explaining to do. To change the subject I asked, "So, how did you leave it with Jeff?"

"I said I would call him today," Gail answered, and she rolled to her right and lay beside me. "Are we going to stay in bed all day? I'm starved." She said.

It was almost two o'clock when we left the room and walked down the long hall to the elevators. We had decided to go to a small Vietnamese restaurant we had earlier found, to eat vegetables wrapped in lemon leaves. Gail was wearing maroon shorts that were gently fitted on her behind but loose around the thighs, a perfect length to show her legs. She wore her cork soled pool shoes that made her taller and flopped against her foot from time to time. Her grey knit shirt had a collar but no arms and thick light-maroon stripes angled across the front. She looked fresh and elegant; you would not have known that I had just put her through a terrible night.

When we exited the elevator we walked toward the lobby door hand in hand. Some twenty feet before the doors Gail tugged my hand and stopped. There to her left was Jeff, standing beside a chair, a drink in hand. Gail looked at him, and then turned to me. For a long moment we stared into each others eyes, and then she asked, "Do you want… should I tell him anything."

I smiled, nodding my head, "Yes, tell him your husband is not interested."

Gail let go of my hand and walked to where Jeff was standing, weaving through a few tables, some with guests that were watching her. When she was in front of him he made no effort to greet her, or offer his hand. He just stood there watching Gail's face, as she was obviously telling him something. Seconds later she turned, wound her way back to me, and offered me her hand as we walked to and exited the door.

In the taxi she reached for my hand again, we drove in silence for a moment then I asked her, "What did you say to him?"

Gail turned to look at me, she was smiling, softly I thought, "I told him my husband said no, I thanked him, and I wished him well."

Later that day Gail asked, "You didn't cancel the Greece trip, did you?"

"No I didn't." I said. "We should call Gabriela… find out where we meet in Rhodes."

We had planned a trip to spend our last holiday week with our friends Gabriela and Giancomo on a Greek Island. We had to fly to Athens, then another 300 miles to Rhodes, where we would meet with our friends and take a ferry to Symi.

The remaining days in Monaco were busy. One day we lunched with Peter, had too much wine, and when Gail and I returned to our hotel we made love the rest of the afternoon. We played tennis, together, every day, showering when we got back to the hotel, playing in the shower. The last days before we left reminded us both of our honeymoon; we were inseparable, and insatiable in our passion toward each other. When we left France we were revitalized, and very much in love.