0 comments/ 3824 views/ 1 favorites French Lesson Ch. 01 By: Nellie_Kay The sun wakes him, there are windows on three sides of the room and no curtains. The shutters open and the breeze is grazing his body, keeping the heat at bay. He reaches over to take his glass and drink some water. As he does, he finds himself grinning as he surveys the scene of devastation around the bedroom. Clothes, underwear, stockings discarded, a lamp knocked over, most of the bedding on the floor and pillows spread around the room as he'd used them, imaginatively, to lift her hips so that he could fuck her deeper. She had been wicked yesterday. He'd been dark and quiet as they'd driven from the ferry to the manoir. The rain was apocalyptic and the traffic ridiculous. Even when the rain abated and they lost the impatient queues, his mood had become a habit that was hard to break. She said nothing, just gently, let her hand rest on his knee as he drove fast and masterfully along the Napoleonic avenues. Millimetre by millimetre, her finger tips started to dance towards his crotch.. A butterfly touch, between irritating and arousal. He told her he was driving. She told him she didn't care. He said he had to concentrate. She said that so did she. They drove in silence up the dusty track to the end of the lane, where the amber wooded manoir appeared. by this time his cock was bursting through his jeans, straining for her fingers, in spite. The walked together to the door, it was opened by the key holder. They went in and as the old woman began to point out the features of the house, she went behind her, bent over to get something out of her bag and lifted her skirt to show her bare ass and fanny... Teasing and tempting... The old lady was oblivious and as she showed off the house, he was aware of his vixen perching on the solid oak dining table, laughing silently into his eyes. The old lady hadn't even shut the door before he took her. He strode towards her, releasing his engorged cock as he did. She had spread thighs and, although her cunt was bare, she was fully clothed too, stockings and high heels. He put his hand on her shoulder, stared into her eyes, and finally, begrudgingly smiled as he slid the whole length of his enormous cock into her welcoming warm pussy. He watched her eyes as she felt his shaft penetrating and her cunt gripping and quickening against it. Everything opened to him, her pupils, lips and fanny. He knew he possessed her and she wanted him to. So, they'd fucked like teenagers in nearly every room, each of them teasing the other, licking, sucking, experimenting, seeing who could last the longest, enjoying this journey and delightfully anticipating the destination. Clothes were removed, furniture, hard and soft put to unusual uses. She came first, sobbing into his shoulder, at the exquisite pleasure of release. As he felt her pulse he too exploded, shooting his cum deep, with the hard, slow thrusts of orgasm. They held each other, sated and spent. Gradually he withdrew, and as his softening cock grazed her over sensitive clit she came again, softly and with pure joy...... They'd fallen asleep entwined but during the night, she'd left his chest pillow and arm blanket and curled up with her back to him. She always did. He dips under the sheet to look at her. The sunlight through the cotton, making their bodies glow like the warm wood of the room. He lets his eyes run down her body from the peak of her shoulder, the valley of her waist and the soft peachy swell of her bottom. Her long legs are curled up to nearly touch her full breasts. He likes the look of her. He goes further down under the sheet, and looks up at her fanny lips that are still swollen from last night's fucking and are pointing insouciantly towards him, a tacit invitation. Drawing up again he spoons behind her, burying his face in her long chestnut curls which are hiding her nape. He breathes into her, cupping her breast with one hand and sliding the other between her soft, sticky thighs... She lengthens against him, so their legs are together and he slips his thumb into her, his fingers holding her sex, waiting for the throb that he knows he can provoke. He knows she is awake, her breathing quickens but she says nothing, bends one leg so his fingers have more freedom. His cock hardens as she reaches behind and rubs the blunt, glistening end along her crack, ass to clit, as if contemplating delectable and deviant opportunities. Again, silently, she moves away, and kneels on all fours, he knows what she wants. Kneeling up behind her, he feeds his swollen cock into her pussy, breathing hard to resist the temptation to take her again like last night.. Her cunt is tight and sore, but as he persists, he can feel the hot juices begin to bubble and bathe him. And as he parts her cheeks to watch the slow, sliding between the red lips, she is making small cries at each long, hard, complete stroke. They meld together, soft and gentle, rocking and coming likewise.. They will bathe now, with kindness, and eat the delivered breakfast. She will read the French paper to him and he will laugh at her atrocious accent, which she never bothered with since a French waiter told her it was hot.... I wish..... French Lesson Ch. 02 They are sharing breakfast at the long dining table. Dwarfed by its length, it could seat around 20, the manoir must have been built around it. She'd woken before him this morning, coaxed from sleep by the sun and the obstreperous birds. He was still sleeping, the ghost of a snore. Looking hard at the firm, handsome enough face, gentled by sleep, she had weighed up the opportunities and reluctantly decided to let him rest. She had bathed and dressed quickly, hopped on to the clanking old bicycle that was propped by the door, and noisily ridden to the village to buy breakfast, glad that the French still favoured the broader saddle. By the time he'd arrived in the kitchen, showered but still in his dressing gown, she'd laid the table with fresh croissants, pain au chocolate and a bowl of ripe peaches. The coffee was brewing and the orange juice cold. As they eat, she entertains him with stories of her school days, where she had learnt, amongst other things, the best way to get in and out of a sports car, how to pack for a weekend in the country and had once spent a term peeling and eating many types of fruit with a knife and fork. The syllabus hadn't changed since the 1920s, neither had the teacher. He laughs. She is pleased that he finds her amusing. A morning Scheherazade. However, in life she'd found those quaint skills surprisingly more useful than he would ever guess. But you are a scientist? Yes A feminist? Most definitely A courtesan? I take my pleasure in pleasing, it is true... And then he realises how little he knows about her. He voices this and she looks surprised.. Does it matter? That challenges I'm not sure.. It is amicable. Then his phone rings, he grimaces as he sees the display. It's work he has to take it. She regards him coolly, then smiles. Of course. As he answers, Switching flawlessly into work mode, he signals for her to pass his brief case. Within a minute his laptop is out and the accounts. He is engrossed She moves to clear the plates, and drops a knife which clatters, a frown at the noise crosses his face.. Oops. She dips down to pick it up, but does not get up. He doesn't notice. She is hunting on all fours under the table, silent, feline, her prey oblivious within her sights. What the f! He shouts, accidentally, to his accountant. She is taking his sleeping cock in her mouth and sucking softly to waken. She can feel him harden and spirals her tongue around the base, caressing with warm, wet, long strokes. At the same time she grazes his balls with her nails, smiling as she feels them tighten. When he becomes more than a mouthful, she holds him with her fingers, takes his balls in her mouth and sucks gently. One hand is on his thigh holding him to the seat. Unfortunately, she can hear that the phone conversation is not going well... There seem to be a lot of pauses and he keeps asking for the information again. His breathing is changing too, getting deeper and harder. Obviously the person on the other end notices this, as she hears him say that all is fine but something has come up and he'll call him back later. She registers this as she's warming to the task in hand, sucking hard on the engorged purple, whilst her fingers move rapidly up and down the shaft. Something in his tone sends a warning. She releases him, dives out from under the table..runs to the door. He's quick too, but the wrong side of the table and slightly disadvantaged his huge cock, still tumescent and angry. He catches up with her in the orchard. His body calmer as she nips in and out of the apple trees, making it difficult for him to grab her. She is laughing so much that her voice is breaking as she teases and goads him. Her full breasts straining at the sheer blouse, her long legs skipping, foal like, in the knee high grass. Clouds of pollen follow in her wake and he seems to forget to be annoyed. He joins in. Hiding behind a big tree, he waits for her to appear, he'll never catch her on speed, he needs cunning. A wolf to her vixen. As she rounds the trunk, calling, he catches her by the waist and takes her mouth, treacherously gentle. She responds in kind, glad to be forgiven, opening her soft lips to receive his searching tongue, contrite. Instead of putting his arms about her, he holds her hands in his, first down by her sides, then gradually lifting them. Kissing her sweetly, kindly, deceptively. When her arms are stretched above her head and her breasts are lifted too, eager nipples hardening with anticipation through the material of her blouse onto his bare chest, he shows his duplicity. With a deft, strong movement he grasps her tiny wrists in one hand and forces her around so that she is facing the tree. Her profile against the rough bark. She struggles, but he is firm. With his free hand he tears off the flimsy skirt and pulls down her cami knickers to half mast around her knees. She feels the sunshine on her soft, peachy buttocks a second before his hand. It is her turn to swear. As he spanks her thoroughly, expertly, he's whispering in her ear. She can't be in charge all the time.. His words soft, breath in her hair, hand hard. As her bottom begins to glow with the deep heat, he changes pace, mixing firm, strong strokes with a lighter, crisper smacks. At first she angrily tells him to stop, then asks him to, but this man is a master and soon she is begging. Her stance has changed, he is still holding her wrists, but he doesn't need to. She is presenting herself. Legs slightly apart, ramrod straight, bright, red buttocks raised to welcome each stroke. Gradually he slows the pace and the intensity of the caress until it is a whisper of a glance of his finger tips. She is making soft noises now. He releases wrists but they stay in place. His two hands cup her throbbing cheeks, one dips between her thighs and he is pleased to discover that she is hot, sticky and bubbling for him. Did I hurt you? Just enough. Then his hands stop their caressing and pause a note before he grips each scarlet apple hard, digging his nails into the hot, tender flesh. She screams out in pain and pleasure, and turns on him. He sees her eyes flash and narrow, her swollen lips move in. Possessed. Again the pause, they are even. He takes her in his arms and she meets him. Both overcome by a hunger that is all consuming. He sees nothing but her, she can feel nothing but him. Her cunt is aching to be filled by the huge, throbbing cock that is now pressed against her tummy. It is on the wrong side of her. They drop to their knees. Mouths melded together, clawing and grabbing each other. There is no space for the light. No time or place for showing off or clever tricks. This is sex, pure and simple fucking. Animal and primal. He pushes her back in the the bed of grass and climbs into her. Her oily pussy grips him hard and her nails dig into his flesh on his back. She widens her thighs as far as possible, she needs all of him. As he thrusts, she meets him. Each stroke to the extreme entrance and exit. She clasps her legs around his body, drawing him deeper, harder, faster.... Suddenly he looks into her eyes, he is on the cusp and she agrees. They let go and come together in an orgasm of such intensity the world stops for them. He forges into the deepest part of her, drenching her with his semen. She cries his name as her cunt melts around him, quickening and pulsing. He shouts hers. For a time after the final shudders and spasms have stopped they are silent and still. Minutes or hours? He leans over and kisses her with such tenderness that she gasps and looking up he can see that, for the first time, she has set aside her guard ... French Lesson Ch. 03 They lay together, squashed in a hammock. She'd found it hidden in the hayloft and secured it, hopefully, between an apple with fruitlets and a recently cropped cherry. Getting in had been a challenge as a lot of tipping and rocking seemed to occur. Lucky it was close to the ground. They'd laughed so much that her eyes watered and they were still chuckling as they lay there. Eventually, by sitting on it together and opposite, then swinging legs over, they managed it and were now lying facing each other, legs entwined. She was wearing his shirt, over sized on her, more like a mini dress, unbuttoned just enough to let him glimpse the entrancing valley between her breasts. He'd brought a bottle of the rough dry cider with them and they were swigging from the bottle, comfortable in the sun and in each other. She'd noticed in the last three days that the tightness of his skin had begun to relax, he was more playful, open. The side was leaving him. She enjoyed seeing his skin take on a burnt umber, whilst she stayed as shaded as possible, the curse of the Celt. How they came to be spending two weeks out of life in a French Manoir together was interesting, had required serendipity and and the nod of a god. That first meeting ended unsatisfactorily for a variety of reasons She'd laughed at some of his practised word, not the lines, but the fact that he'd mistakenly thought that would work on her.. She'd left the small bar alone that night.. But unsettled, a niggling of unfinished business and a flicker of opportunity.. She had a fey feeling for the man. As soon as he'd laid eyes on her, he knew he needed to have her, not because of her looks. They were OK. It was the turn of her head, the way she stared out his look and challenged him. A more visceral emotion, a primitive yearning. A few hundred years ago he would have thrown her to the ground and ravished her then and there. God, he wanted that woman. But they were together now, briefly, a delicious interval. Two people enjoying what living should be before life interrupts and asks it to cut the grass and take the bins out. So back to now, She's rubbing her foot up his thigh, burrowing in the crotch and letting it rest there. Don't start if you're not prepared to finish.. He warns.. What do you think? I think it's time for a taste test, I want to assess the mouth feel.. He raises an eyebrow.... Lie back and you'll see... She takes a deep draught from the bottle lifting the bottom in the air, fully aware of the reaction the sight of her swallowing, cold liquid coursing down her throat, is having on his body. She reaches over to pass the cider. Carefully, so as not to rock the boat, she flips so her head is between his thighs, propped up on elbows. Just so. With an overly studied attitude, she pushes aside the dressing gown and looks at him. Her face is close to his groin and he can feel the wet warmth of her breath and the heat of her eyes. She is looking at his unfurling cock coming to life, swelling under her gaze reaching, up to her. A flower stem looking for the sun? She still looks, appraising from all angles, assessing, sizing up almost. Something wrong? Oh no, it's perfect, beautiful, delicious. I'm just planning. She looks up and stares into his eyes, he sees his cockhead level with her mouth. She holds his gaze and says softly but clearly. I'm going to take you in my mouth, this is my lesson for today, you must educate me. I need to find out what you enjoy the most. I want to give you pleasure with my lips and my tongue and in doing that I will be satisfied. Today, now, it it all about you. Is that acceptable? She is serious Her words explode in his head, he hears them and feels them on his body. His shaft responds delightedly, ramrod hard and throbbing towards her. He puts his legs either side of the hammock, for stability, and the action thrusts his member even further towards her face. Perfect. He watches as her quick pink tongue swiftly licks the two pearls that have emerged and at her touch he knows that he is lost in her. She holds him gently at first, teasing him with quick catlike licks on the tip. Then her lapping gets longer and deeper, a leopardess drinking at a water hole. Her tongue is spiralling up and down the length, sometimes quickly other times slower, concentrating on the underneath and flicking and lapping at his tightening balls. She looks up at him, smiling, wanton. Shall I carry on? He nods, smiling too, entranced too by the dipping movement of her chestnut curls against his skin. Her delicate, soft fingers collect his tumescent end, like the bud of a freesia as she kisses the sides of his shaft, as if kissing firmly his lips. She continues alternating this with the flicking and licking, her own lips engorged and her hot spit providing all the lubrication needed. She keeps glancing up at him, gauging his face. His breath is ragged and small sounds of pleasure escape, he tries to calm his breathing and not bring an early end to the dance. Too much..the teasing and tempting arousal has to end.. He has a primitive need to be inside this vixen of a woman, For God's sake woman, will you suck me off? He half shouts.. She looks up, and smiles, feline again. Pursing her lips, as if to kiss him, she lowers her head to his cock, pushing him into her hot, wet mouth... He thrusts up, instinctively taking her by surprise. Her tongue is circling again, all around the rim as she lifts her head up and down , slowly ,quickly, the pace changing maddeningly. Enough, he can stand no more, he puts his fingers in her curls, lifting her face, then holds her head as her fucks her mouth, hard and deep. When he comes, his spunk shoots into her throat in long hot spurts. She swallows joyfully, and grins into his eyes as he pulls her up the length of his body and kisses her deeply for the longest time. She snuggles next to him, head on his chest, his fingers stroking and curling her hair as they whisper each other to sleep in the soft dappled Normandy sun. French Lesson Ch. 04 Anyway, it's late in the day and they are by the lilly encrusted lake on a blanket. The scent of the raspberry ripple roses heady and heavy, compounded by the full bloom that he is using to lazily caress her body. Brushing her nipples, thighs, neck, everywhere. His hand is moving the stem almost reflexively. She is on her back, hands behind her hair, one leg raised, open to him. Her only garment, again his shirt, undone. He lies beside her, head propped up on his hand, admiring the view. Their soundtrack, the crepuscular birds, insects and the soft plop of frogs returning to the water. They are talking and laughing about last night with such intimacy, that the farmer who is watching them from the field took them to be a couple with a great history. Yesterday had been Bastille Day. On a whim, they'd driven to Honfleur and checked into a quaint chambre d'hote near the quay. After a quick meal at one of the interchangeable harbour restaurants, they'd joined the party. Enjoying the contagion of the carousel, carnival atmosphere they became playful. As night fell, they stumbled on to a small square where a makeshift dance floor had appeared. It was a wonderful cliché of fairy lights, local music and chequered tables. He took one. He asked her to dance. He acquiesced with the proviso that although enthusiastic, it was not her greatest talent. He told her that it was one of his and lead her to the floor. Moondance - they smiled wryly. But this time he had not been lying. The man was a master holding her with a lightness of touch that inspired greater confidence. A touch on her waist sending her spinning away, then pause then back to his arms. The man controlled her movements with his whole body, eyes, hips, hands. As the dance progressed so did her enjoyment and she was soon daring him to be bolder and more adventurous with the steps. Her hair had come down by now and was whipping around her pale shoulders, long limbs blurring.. The song ended he and pulled her close kissing her softly as the last few bars faded away, he could feel her heart beating wildly.. So when the young Frenchman, with the well groomed moustache, had approached and asked him if he could dance with his 'Belle Femme',it had been his pleasure to pass over her hand. He knew it would incense her in so many ways and he liked her angry too. Surprisingly, he had expected her to refuse, she had smiled broadly into the handsome, dark face and had skipped off back to the dance. He felt a little pique, then annoyance.. The classic double bluff. He watched as they danced together to a faster tempo, wild, graceful, if not as skilled.. As she twirled, her chiffon skirt flew up revealing a flash of the pink silk.. Bare legs tonight.. Her full breasts caught the rhythm and he noticed that the French man was enjoying their proximity too.. In spite, his cock twitched for her.. When the music switched to a much slower beat, the French man drew her close, he could see that he was pushing his hips towards hers and she was responding. She caught him watching and smiled, it was not kind. Witch. However, his treacherous cock was having none of it, and was now straining to be free. He stood up. At the same time there was a brief exchange on the floor, he did not catch it. With a shrug, the French man returned her. Thank you, you have an exceptional lady. Good luck. What happened? He murmured, watching his retreating back. He asked for another dance, and I said that unfortunately, although pleasant as that would be, I had to come back because the man I am with tonight, who is not my husband, has promised to fuck me good and proper in that alley behind the square as the fireworks are let off. Now he understood the look of admiration.... You wouldn't want to make a liar of me... As the first rocket illuminated the black sky, she had pulled him into the narrow space between two tall buildings. He had pushed her roughly against the brick wall, and kissed her hungrily, possessive, staking. His tongue taking every inch of her. She had replied with the same passion, her hands busy at his belt. His cock was so impatient that it was a struggle to release but soon it was free, seeking home. She held him firmly in her hand, stroking, caressing and leading. His hands were tearing at her blouse, breasts spilling out, eager for his touch and mouth. He squeezed and massaged her already swollen nipples bending down to suck and bite.. They both wanted a bit of rough that night.. Fuck me.. No need to ask.. He snapped the fine silk, it took the warm breeze and she wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing him in. As his engorged cock thrust into her welcoming, tropical pussy, she gasped at the depth of his stroke. Hard, unforgiving and intense. Her heels and position made her cunt proud to meet him and for a time he fucked her like a teenager...selfish and she loved it. His mouth on her. He lifted her other leg around his waist and she gripped him hard changing the angle again. She stretched her legs out and braced against the narrow walls. Unable to move now she abandoned to his pace and his pleasure..losing herself in him. Her hand grazing and cupping his balls, thumb a tease on his arse. He came hard and true.. Hot spunk bathing her inner core, crying out in triumph. She waited until the pulsing subsided before gradually lowering her legs.... Her swollen clit pressing on to his melting erection.. His mouth became softer and his fingers replaced his cock. Her fingers joined his and it was her turn to set the pressure and the pace .... When she brought her fingers to her lips and sucked hard, relishing the heady cocktail, she came against his hand, thighs clasping him tight, he forced his twisted fingers into her, feeling the reflex gripping and drawing.. They had walked to their room with secret smiles. A state of deshabille.. They had missed the official firework demonstration.. But back to now.. The rose is measuring her skin, dark against her thighs, breasts and tummy, pale against her nipples, mouth and inner lips.. Almost as if by accident, his mouth starts to follow the rose head, one beat behind.. Deep kisses on her neck, under breast, upper thigh then back to her mouth. The temper changes and the kisses replace the conversation. The rose seems to linger around her sex and before long he is holding her pillow soft thighs apart, lapping at her cunt, sucking her clit and gently probing her arse with a finger. She is lying back, welcoming the growing storm. Suddenly she switches, her mouth needing his cock too... Wanting to be penetrated completely... He is still licking her sex, finger fucking her pussy and ass. But now she is taking him too, her mouth a mirror image of her cunt.. As they are discovering their own tempo.. She goes faster, he goes slower.. This is the best dance.. But this is the entree .. Appetising, whetting, tickling.. He lies on top, she flips him, subtlety, and is riding him. He is prone, she is astride, rising to the trot, dipping and diving, tempting with her mouth and nipples, she is fucking him on a blanket, by a lake.. As they come, he flips her again..so he is driving her into the soft earth as he spills in to her, climaxing with the force of nature into her.. And with no plan or agenda.. Or future.. They lie compleat in the moment.. And it is so good..