It was about 8 o’clock when I woke up on Tuesday morning. Claire was still wearing the black stockings from the night before and furthermore she still looked hot.
But she was still sleeping and I was feeling a bit fragile from the previous night’s excesses and my cock had slept in later than I had so I contented myself with ogling her briefly before I pulled the cover up over us.
It was an hour later the next time I woke and Claire was hugging me and one-eyed Pete had finally roused.
But when I moved my head on the pillow a pain filled it like it had been hit with a shovel.
So Pete went back to sleep and Claire had also consumed too much Champagne for early morning nookie.
So I gingerly lifted my head off the pillow and walked to the bathroom to take some Anadin I then took a glass of water and two tablets to Claire.
On the way back to the bathroom for a pee I flicked the kettle on and after a satisfying cupper the pills had done their job and we both felt well enough and indeed sufficiently human for breakfast, which we ordered from room service and decadently ate it in bed.
By the time we had finished our repast it was approaching 10.30am and we had to vacate the room by noon so Claire took herself off into the shower while I contemplated recent events.
Our French trip had certainly provided plenty of saucy material for the continuing series of mucky books.
It had been a really enjoyable three days and not necessarily for the reasons you might think.
It had been something of a rollercoaster; there were moments when I desperately missed Georgia and others when I would have happily stayed with Claire forever.
The sex was extra special but was that because of the new found “feeling?”
Was the enhanced satisfaction due to the romantic element?
I was very fond of Claire but it could never become more than that.
And probably part of the attraction was the naughtiness factor, the sneaking around, the guilty pleasure.
I had missed Georgia even though I had almost fallen for Claire.
Regardless of that I would have to get my self to Roehampton and reacquaint myself with Georgie’s tender loins.
Just then Claire emerged from the bathroom wearing a toweling dressing gown and stared at my flaccid cock with, what I took to be, a look of disappointment on her face.
Myself and limpy Pete headed for the bathroom and decided on a soak in the bath rather than a shower.
As I soaked my weariness away I could hear Claire drying her hair and when that stopped I became curious to know what she was doing.
I discovered that if I craned my neck I could see the reflection in the mirror of her sitting on the bed applying her lotions and potions and Pete twitched.
When I had finished in the bath I dried myself off and then shaved, cleaned my teeth and applied my own fragrances.
I walked towards the bed and found Claire lying on the bed all dry, perfumed and powdered, the toweling dressing gown tantalizingly open to reveal subtle hints of the delights beneath and my awakening continued.
“I’m…” I started to say but she put a finger up to her lips gesturing me to silence and I noticed she was on the phone.
From the content of the conversation I deduced it to be Olivia, the practice manager, who referred to my writing efforts as mucky books; it still rankled with me even though she was perfectly correct.
Claire was discussing some clinical cases, test results etcetera
I walked around the bed examining her from every angle and then climbed on the bed next to her.
We were topped and tailed on the bed so I had already decided my next course of action.
By the time I had arrived along side her, the conversational topic had moved on to chatting about how much she was enjoying Paris and how well her contribution to the symposium went.
Laying on my side propped up on one elbow in the Roman style I began stroking her silky smooth leg with my spare hand.
Claire didn’t flinch as I leant forward and kissed the fragrant skin around her knee.
My little friend who had been conspicuous by his absence all morning was now bulging beneath my towel.
My lips progressed along her thigh but her voice didn’t falter as I breathed in the fresh scent of coconut oil on her skin,
My lips kissed further and again her voice was unfaltering but her hand had progressed slowly inside the folds of my towel and was absent-mindedly fondling my cock.
Her conversation continued in the same vein as her robe fell open at the waist exposing the length of her thigh up to her hip, I wasted no time in closing the distance and as my lips kissed her hip bone I could detect the faintest fragrance of apple and for the first time her conversational train of thought was broken as she began roughly stroking my shaft.
“Olivia I have to go,” she said as my nose divined the source of the apple scent infused upon her pubic hairs and her thighs parted.
Her skin smelled of coconut her pubic hair of apples and her pussy of lust.
“Call me later…” she continued as my towel fell open
Claire dropped the phone and tightened her grip on my shaft and began gently tugging harder on my cock.
“Something’s come up” she said to herself
I let out a gasp and she released a long soft moaning sigh as my tongue parted her lips before her mouth engulfed my purple bell end.
Then without disengaging her mouth from my swollen member
in one fluid motion rolled on top of me and presented her hot pink pussy to me in all its glory and I relished the consumption of the savory flesh and as I nibbled and sucked her labia.
Claire paused her oral ministrations only to let out a moan and gasp and while her pussy let out a whispering fanny fart.
Then when Claire brought me to the brink of tipping my barrow and she trembled and shuddered, I knew it was time to leave her
fragrant farting fanny.
I quickly slid from under the delicious doctor and positioned my self behind her with my hands on her hips.
Claire sat back on her haunches and let the dressing gown fall from her shoulders.
She was watching me in the mirror and she was biting her lip as she leant forward and pushed her hips backwards and as she did so she slid her tight hot pussy along my shaft, moaning softly all the way, then with each penetration she extracted from me, her liquid lips slid from my swollen tip to the throbbing root of my cock and greased my balls.
With a look of immense concentration Claire was watching my reflection intently as she performed her dance.
But when her head flopped forward I reached forward and cupped her hanging breasts and knew I had to take her across the finish line.
We were both watching our performance in the mirror when I had taken control, her back was arched and her head thrashing back and fourth, swishing her hair like a whirling dervish.
Then all of a sudden the bedroom door opened with a clatter and when we looked in that direction we discovered it was the maid backing into the room
“Don’t stop” Claire said in a panting cry “for god sake don’t stop”
At that moment the maid became aware of our presence.
“Pardon monsieur, pardon madam” she loudly exclaimed and bustled out the room as clumsily as she had entered.
Claire was not to be deterred by a domestique and was now becoming more vociferous as we near the precipice.
I was firmly gripping her hips now, holding on like a jockey trying to hold back a galloping horse but Claire kept racing on and on until she threw back her head and screamed as we came together exploding in utter ecstasy.
And then dripping with sweat and panting like beasts we fell sideways still joined together.
As we left the room we saw the clumsy maid in the hall
“This could be embarrassing,” I said
“Au revoir” Claire said loudly as we passed her.
The maid went crimson red and looked away muttering to herself.
Claire told me later that a colleague once told her that if you didn’t want someone to look at you, you should address them first.
I don’t know why we were concerned because by our own very low standards we had been model guests in Paris we had behaved much more shamefully in London, Bristol, Birmingham ad infinitum.
We checked out and for once walked across the lobby with heads held high, a feeling totally alien to the pair of us.
Not for the first time on this trip, as we left the hotel and got in the waiting cab I found myself thinking here we go again.
As not for the first time on this trip I found myself referring to Claire and I as “us”.
We didn’t go to the “Gare du Nord”; our train didn’t depart until 4.30pm so we had plenty of time to stop at the lingerie store so Claire could exchange her inadequate bras.
I sat outside a café drinking coffee and guarding the bags while Claire went into the store.
She was taking no chances this time and was going to try them all on in the shop.
I offered to come in with her to help her tuck her puppies in but she declined my offer saying, “I wouldn’t be helping her, I would be helping myself”
“The cheek of some people” I thought as I stared at both of hers shimmying inside her jeans.
When she returned a little short of an hour later she was looking almost as pleased with herself as she did when she walked knickerless through the hotel restaurant.
“You look very pleased with yourself, have you gone commando again?” I asked unhelpfully
“No” she said indignantly and sat down at the table next to me
I caught the waiters eye and ordered two coffees
“Did you change your bras?”
“Yes” she said “and I bought some treats”
“What kind of treats?” I asked intrigued
“Fishnet tights, for one thing” she replied “for next time”
Once on the train I was relieved to find the carriage was far too busy for any shenanigans, I was completely shagged out.
I was surprised that even the train’s rhythmic motion hadn’t stirred sleeping Pete, who was obviously shagged out as well.
I looked at Claire’s lovely face, as she sat beside me, and I thought it quite possible that she might be falling in love with me, but I decided she was not and I knew I could easily fall in love with her but I decided that I wouldn’t because our hearts were elsewhere.
Georgia was already unhappy with me banging other women and had warned me to curb my excesses.
So I’m certain sure she would go bat shit if she thought I was romantically involved with someone.
We said goodbye at Kings Cross, by the gate for the Basingstoke train.
“Thanks Simon” she said “for making it such an enjoyable time”
“My pleasure” I responded
“And mine” Claire said blushing
Then a moment later she continued
“I probably enjoyed it a little more than I should have I think”
I knew that she wasn’t referring to the over indulgence or even the sex.
“Me too” I said
Monday, 29 October 2012
Arty
THE POET DIPS HIS QUILL
The poet dips his quill
In the inkwell of the muse
The resulting flowing words
Are the fruit of thought
Gathered on the page
In a Poetic harvest
IN THE WELL OF THOUGHTS
In the well of thoughts
The wordsmith dips his cup
In search of inspiration
And drinks deep the draught
But when the spark is struck
The muse was present
At the moment of conception
The poet dips his quill
In the inkwell of the muse
The resulting flowing words
Are the fruit of thought
Gathered on the page
In a Poetic harvest
IN THE WELL OF THOUGHTS
In the well of thoughts
The wordsmith dips his cup
In search of inspiration
And drinks deep the draught
But when the spark is struck
The muse was present
At the moment of conception
A Dirty Pair
OF SWEET GARDENIAS
Of sweet gardenias
The lassie smelt
As I knelt beside
The svelte little Celt
Where on her knee
My hand briefly dwelt
Before it slid upward
Until it felt her pelt
LET ME DINE ON IMMORAL-FLESH
Let me dine on immoral-flesh
So readily on display
Let me sup on the promiscuous
Who will let me have my way
Let me exorcise my desires
On the willing assets of the age
Let me use them and abuse them
While they brazenly assuage
Let me chose from the buffet
One who will eagerly delight
It takes very little effort
If you do the thing right
Just start at Wetherspoons
On almost any given night
Of sweet gardenias
The lassie smelt
As I knelt beside
The svelte little Celt
Where on her knee
My hand briefly dwelt
Before it slid upward
Until it felt her pelt
LET ME DINE ON IMMORAL-FLESH
Let me dine on immoral-flesh
So readily on display
Let me sup on the promiscuous
Who will let me have my way
Let me exorcise my desires
On the willing assets of the age
Let me use them and abuse them
While they brazenly assuage
Let me chose from the buffet
One who will eagerly delight
It takes very little effort
If you do the thing right
Just start at Wetherspoons
On almost any given night
A Spiritual Trio
WE’LL REACH OUR GOD
We’ll reach our God,
In heavens palaces
Leaving our bodies,
Heavy like stone,
And take flight
On angels wing
And bathe in His glory
For all eternity
A CROSS FOR YOU
A cross for you,
A symbol of your sacrifice
A cross for me,
A sign of my devotion
Across the veil
To the place beyond
To bathe together
In everlasting love
VIOLENCE TURNS THE WORLD
Violence turns the world
Into a smouldering ruin
God against God
Sect against sect
Brother against Brother
Hatred against reason
And in the middle
Innocence dwells
Armed only with hope
And unshakeable faith
We’ll reach our God,
In heavens palaces
Leaving our bodies,
Heavy like stone,
And take flight
On angels wing
And bathe in His glory
For all eternity
A CROSS FOR YOU
A cross for you,
A symbol of your sacrifice
A cross for me,
A sign of my devotion
Across the veil
To the place beyond
To bathe together
In everlasting love
VIOLENCE TURNS THE WORLD
Violence turns the world
Into a smouldering ruin
God against God
Sect against sect
Brother against Brother
Hatred against reason
And in the middle
Innocence dwells
Armed only with hope
And unshakeable faith
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Sporting Briefs
A POLE DANCER AND A GYMNAST
A pole dancer and a gymnast
Hard working and skilled too
The only difference between them
Seems to be the quantity of tattoo
STOLEN MOMENTS
Drug cheats should receive,
No second chance, no reprieve
A total ban for their crime
And the ban should be lifetime
The winner of the event
The one for whom the gold was meant
Doesn’t stand atop the podium
And hear their anthem in the stadium
The true gold medal recipient
Is for ever robbed of that moment
Though their honour was earned
That moment can never be returned
PROUD FATHER OF THE PARALYMPICS
Professor Sir Ludwig "Poppa" Guttmann
How proud would Ludwig be?
If he could only see
The oak tree that has grown
From his tiny acorn sown
As a Jew he was no stranger
To prejudice and its danger
He had seen the Nazi storm
And they’re concept of the norm
He saw how disabilities lead
To the slaughter shed
So he fled to London
And his work was begun
How proud would Poppa be?
If he could only see
The fruits of his endeavours
To change the view forever
Of people written off
“Only cripples?” he would scoff
He was a tour de force
And single minded of course
Who didn’t see freak show exhibits
But challenges to the human spirit
How proud he would have been
If he could have only seen
When Paralympians, each and every one
Out shone the September sun
CLEAN AND JERK
I’ve just found out about the clean and jerk
I don’t mind saying I feel a bit of a burke
In fact I doubt I could feel any dafter
Because I generally clean mine after
WELL NOW THE PARALYMPICS ARE OVER
Well now the Paralympics are over
The call is coming loud and clear
To accommodate those unfortunates
Whose disadvantages were just too severe
For them to be able to compete
So following a simply inspired idea
Next summer on the sporting Calendar
A brand new event will appear
To accommodate the unfortunates
When the “Essex Games” begin next year
THE ESSEX GAMES
The Essex Games
Begin next year
For the Essex folk
Who will appear
In man made fibres
And gaudy splendour
To watch the best of them
In their endeavours
When Dave and Chelsea
Shazza and Baz
Will perform for us to watch
In such events as
Copping a strop
Vagazaling
The stiletto 100m
And the bling
Throwing a tantrum
The Alco pop crawl
The face dive
And the ungraceful fall
As yet the events list
Is relatively small
Unless you can suggest
Anything at all?
WE WERE AT THE WEIGHTLIFTING
We were at the weightlifting
Watching the woman at work
My friend shouted “great snatch”
I said, “Isn’t this the clean and jerk?”
2012 - SUMMER OF SPORT
For the most splendid
Summer of sport
We should thank Lord Coe
And all the ambassadors
All the games makers
And the volunteers
We should thank the armed forces
For stepping into the breech
Technicians and officials
All the competitors
For performing to their best
And the spectators
Just for being there
And last but by no means least
For their foresight
All those years ago
In clearing the Olympic site
We say a big thank you
To the German Luftwaffe
AT THE ESSEX GAMES # 1
At the Essex Games
Beginning next year
For the Essex folk
Have hit a snack I fear
On health safety grounds
There will be no swimming
Because it have transpired
That the pool was brimming
With dirty brown water
When every girl and man
Had dived in to the pool
Wearing too much fake tan
A pole dancer and a gymnast
Hard working and skilled too
The only difference between them
Seems to be the quantity of tattoo
STOLEN MOMENTS
Drug cheats should receive,
No second chance, no reprieve
A total ban for their crime
And the ban should be lifetime
The winner of the event
The one for whom the gold was meant
Doesn’t stand atop the podium
And hear their anthem in the stadium
The true gold medal recipient
Is for ever robbed of that moment
Though their honour was earned
That moment can never be returned
PROUD FATHER OF THE PARALYMPICS
Professor Sir Ludwig "Poppa" Guttmann
How proud would Ludwig be?
If he could only see
The oak tree that has grown
From his tiny acorn sown
As a Jew he was no stranger
To prejudice and its danger
He had seen the Nazi storm
And they’re concept of the norm
He saw how disabilities lead
To the slaughter shed
So he fled to London
And his work was begun
How proud would Poppa be?
If he could only see
The fruits of his endeavours
To change the view forever
Of people written off
“Only cripples?” he would scoff
He was a tour de force
And single minded of course
Who didn’t see freak show exhibits
But challenges to the human spirit
How proud he would have been
If he could have only seen
When Paralympians, each and every one
Out shone the September sun
CLEAN AND JERK
I’ve just found out about the clean and jerk
I don’t mind saying I feel a bit of a burke
In fact I doubt I could feel any dafter
Because I generally clean mine after
WELL NOW THE PARALYMPICS ARE OVER
Well now the Paralympics are over
The call is coming loud and clear
To accommodate those unfortunates
Whose disadvantages were just too severe
For them to be able to compete
So following a simply inspired idea
Next summer on the sporting Calendar
A brand new event will appear
To accommodate the unfortunates
When the “Essex Games” begin next year
THE ESSEX GAMES
The Essex Games
Begin next year
For the Essex folk
Who will appear
In man made fibres
And gaudy splendour
To watch the best of them
In their endeavours
When Dave and Chelsea
Shazza and Baz
Will perform for us to watch
In such events as
Copping a strop
Vagazaling
The stiletto 100m
And the bling
Throwing a tantrum
The Alco pop crawl
The face dive
And the ungraceful fall
As yet the events list
Is relatively small
Unless you can suggest
Anything at all?
WE WERE AT THE WEIGHTLIFTING
We were at the weightlifting
Watching the woman at work
My friend shouted “great snatch”
I said, “Isn’t this the clean and jerk?”
2012 - SUMMER OF SPORT
For the most splendid
Summer of sport
We should thank Lord Coe
And all the ambassadors
All the games makers
And the volunteers
We should thank the armed forces
For stepping into the breech
Technicians and officials
All the competitors
For performing to their best
And the spectators
Just for being there
And last but by no means least
For their foresight
All those years ago
In clearing the Olympic site
We say a big thank you
To the German Luftwaffe
AT THE ESSEX GAMES # 1
At the Essex Games
Beginning next year
For the Essex folk
Have hit a snack I fear
On health safety grounds
There will be no swimming
Because it have transpired
That the pool was brimming
With dirty brown water
When every girl and man
Had dived in to the pool
Wearing too much fake tan
A NATURE SELECTION
IS IT THE ANGER OF PETULANT GODS?
Is it the anger of petulant Gods?
In their Olympian Penthouse
Exploding their volcanic wrath
Down a molten hillside
Or an angry planet
From deep within
Trying to cleanse the earth
Of it’s unworthy guardians
AUTUMN LEAVES ARE GATHERING
Autumn leaves are gathering
Golden in the hedgerows
As the sun sits lower in the sky
Shadows lengthen across the landscape
Heralding winters approach
ABOVE A MOONLIT MEADOW
Above a moonlit meadow
The stars begin to shine
As I plight my troth in earnest
And hope to make you mine
AMIDST THE REEDS AND RUSHES
Amidst the reeds and rushes
Dragonflies hover by the river still
Where the weeping willows
Drooping branches spill
IN THE WATER MEADOW
In the water meadow
The Mayflies pirouette
On gossamer wings.
A pair performs a duet
As they dance their
Ephemeral vignette
THROUGH GREEN-WOODS AND MEADOWS
Through green-woods and meadows
The happy travellers wend
Along the meandering river
Until they reached journeys end
BUSY BEE
Under a sky of periwinkle blue
The honey bee sips the morning dew
Then she spends the daylight hours
Humming amidst the meadow flowers
Is it the anger of petulant Gods?
In their Olympian Penthouse
Exploding their volcanic wrath
Down a molten hillside
Or an angry planet
From deep within
Trying to cleanse the earth
Of it’s unworthy guardians
AUTUMN LEAVES ARE GATHERING
Autumn leaves are gathering
Golden in the hedgerows
As the sun sits lower in the sky
Shadows lengthen across the landscape
Heralding winters approach
ABOVE A MOONLIT MEADOW
Above a moonlit meadow
The stars begin to shine
As I plight my troth in earnest
And hope to make you mine
AMIDST THE REEDS AND RUSHES
Amidst the reeds and rushes
Dragonflies hover by the river still
Where the weeping willows
Drooping branches spill
IN THE WATER MEADOW
In the water meadow
The Mayflies pirouette
On gossamer wings.
A pair performs a duet
As they dance their
Ephemeral vignette
THROUGH GREEN-WOODS AND MEADOWS
Through green-woods and meadows
The happy travellers wend
Along the meandering river
Until they reached journeys end
BUSY BEE
Under a sky of periwinkle blue
The honey bee sips the morning dew
Then she spends the daylight hours
Humming amidst the meadow flowers
An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 29) A Breath Of French Air (Day Two)
On our first night in Paris, having exorcised our considerable lust in the vestibule of our room, we remained in lustful embrace,
Claire in my arms impaled on my shaft and pinned to the wall.
We remained in the vestibule whilst I was still in Claire’s vestibule if you like, for an indeterminate time, until Claire needed to pee.
So I set her down on the floor and kissed her slowly and sensually.
Then we opened the inner door and entered the room properly for the first time.
Claire needed the loo too much to examine the room in detail, so while she went in the bathroom I carried the bags in and tried not to listen to her peeing, I know I’m a perve but I can’t help it, it just does it for me.
When she had finished in the bathroom she walked out wearing her sweater and no bra and with her nipples standing proud and although the garment was long it still left a tantalizing portion of her bush visible.
In one hand she was carrying a pink bra in the other a pair of wet knickers,
“You have decimated my underwear,” she announced exasperated
“Three pairs of tights, two pairs of soiled knickers and a broken bra”
I did think to point out that I wasn’t present when the first pair of tights were ruined and the third pair were down to her but I decided not to as I had no defense in regard to the second pair and anyway I was really enjoying looking at her bush.
Then she threw her wet knickers at my face and said
“Stop looking at my muff while I’m telling you off”
She was laughing as she picked up her dirty pants and rubbed them in my face.
“I hope you don’t think this is a punishment,” I said
“Urgh you’re disgusting” she exclaimed then she hugged me.
We deliberated briefly on what we should do next, eat in the room, get spruced up and go somewhere chic or quickly freshen up and go find a bistro.
We decided on the latter and twenty minutes later wearing jeans and trainers we were crossing the hotel lobby and just as we reached the main door Claire sneezed.
“Oh shit there goes another pair,” she said and I laughed.
“It’s not funny” she said, “I’ve only got one pair left”
I was still laughing when she punched my arm and she was giggling herself as she said quietly.
“You’ve soiled three pairs of knickers in one day and now I need to buy some more”
“You could always go commando,” I suggested
“I can’t do that” Claire exclaimed, quite mortified but still chuckling “I’m not a tart”
That kind of set the tone for the evening and when we found a bistro we entertained ourselves by identifying the patrons who were “sans culotte” or as we liked to call them Parisien
When we retuned to Hotel we finished the night off making love in bed, it was a more tender and restrained union than our earlier one but every bit as pleasurable for all that.
I awoke the next morning to find an empty space in the bed next to me, this was not the norm when sleeping with Claire who was partial to an early morning spoon, and had a considerable number of weapons in her arsenal to encourage me to be so inclined.
This morning however she was already up and in the shower.
I lay in bed for a while nursing my early riser feeling a little crestfallen.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed Claire was just coming out of the bathroom pink and luscious and draped in towels.
I was bleary eyed and naked and still had a boner which Claire couldn’t help but notice.
“Morning Gorgeous” she said
“Hi hon.” I replied
“I was talking to your friend” she said and took hold of my cock and stroked it gently as she kissed me.
“Now go and have a shower,” Claire added as she gave my old chap a final stroke.
While I was in the shower my erection abated but I thought Claire would bring it back to life in a second.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I was spotlessly clean, sweet smelling with minty fresh breath and ready for action.
So imagine my surprise when I found Claire wearing a black bra with matching pants just visible through her usual 70 denier black tights.
She had a skinny waist and neat hips and the most beautifully round buttocks, and oh yes the boner was back.
The very appealing sight of Claire in black underwear and tights had left me with a pronounced bulge in my towel but she was clearly not ready for action.
“Are we not canoodling this morning?” I asked in a pitiful voice not unlike that of Oliver Twist asking for more gruel.
“No time Babe” she said
“I have time for a quick breakfast then I need to get to the conference centre”
And after a prolonged glance at the bulge in my towel she continued
“So you can stop pointing that thing at me, I’m interested in a sausage of a very different sort”
And after seeing the crestfallen look on my face she kissed me before saying
“But if you keep it warm I’ll eat it later”
So resigned to the fact I wasn’t going to be dipping my wick before breakfast but with the promise of later delights I quickly dressed for the day and joined Claire for breakfast before seeing her into a cab.
Her symposium and my potential French publisher were in opposite directions so we had to take separate taxis.
As my appointment with the publisher wasn’t until the afternoon and Claire was busy all day I decided to do some sight seeing.
After a brief word with the concierge I secured the services of an English speaking taxi driver who gave me the full tour, The Arc de Triomphe, the Champs-Elysées, The Sorbonne and the Latin Quarter, The Louvre, Montmartre, Sacre Coeur and the Eiffel Tower.
I was very impressed with the city but my enjoyment was tinged with the regret that Georgia wasn’t there to enjoy it with me.
It struck me all of a sudden and quite out of the blue.
Frankly I was taken aback that in the middle of my adulterous Parisian break with the delicious doctor it was my girlfriend with whom I wanted to experience Paris.
This had never happened before.
I had the taxi drop me at the Eiffel tower and I walked the banks the Seine as I mulled over the consequences of what had occurred.
I knew that I loved Georgia obviously, that was a given, but I had never consciously missed her when I was playing away.
I stopped at a café and ordered coffee and a pastry and I decided that I had to bring Georgie to Paris maybe in the spring or on her birthday.
A different hotel obviously and a different bistro, in fact anywhere I’d been with Claire was a no-no which of course meant the Eurostar.
As I finished the last mouthful of cake I got a tingle at the root of my cock just at the thought of the Eurostar, which was quite inappropriate, I chastised myself for my insensitivity.
However I resolved that I would definitely bring Georgia with me to Paris.
When I had finished my coffee I checked my watch and got up to find a taxi.
I arrived at the publishers ten minutes early and found myself somewhat surprised at what I found.
I had expected the publishers of a “gentlemen’s magazine” to be rather seedy and down market but not a bit of it.
It was all bright lights and glass with an ostentatious façade and a flashy in your face attitude and not a dirty raincoat in sight.
My meeting was with the editor Henri Montpelier who spoke perfect English and thanked me for meeting with him.
I only stayed about half an hour not because they didn’t impress me but because I didn’t want to waste their time, I had only agreed to meet them at all because it gave me an excuse to be in Paris so I could spend three days shagging the naughty doctor.
My reasons for not agreeing to publish remained unchanged as far as I was concerned.
I left Henri and he said he would contact Lionel Blum with an offer, I said fine.
I thought at the very least it would allow me to gauge my worth as a writer of dirty books.
On the way back to the hotel in the cab Lionel called me to congratulate me,
“You must have made a great impression my dear,” he said
“They’ve made an offer”
Then he told me the details and I nearly dropped the phone.
At the hotel I couldn’t wait to tell someone and for the second time that day I regretted Georgia not being there.
I went up to the room and let myself in but the room was empty so I went back downstairs and into the bar.
I fancied a pint but they only had French beer, which was weaker than piss so I ordered a large glass of white wine instead.
I texted Claire to say I was in the bar and to join me when she arrived
She replied ok
I took my drink out on the terrace, which was bathed in the surprisingly warm October sunshine, but it was cooler than it looked so I went back inside.
I found myself a seat and took my phone from my pocket and called Georgia.
We spoke for about an hour, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed hearing her voice, and shared my news.
I was on my second glass of wine when Claire arrived clutching an assortment of bags.
“Hi handsome” she said kissing me then she whispered. “I had to go shopping for you know what’s”
“That’s ok,” I said kissing her back, knowing precisely what the “you know what’s” were, “blimey are all those bags full of knickers?”
“Shhh” she exclaimed “no of course not, but one thing led to another after all how often does a girl get the chance to shop in Paris”
“Quite right” I agreed, “do you want a drink?”
“No thanks babe. I want to go and try these on” Claire replied excitedly
“Ok, I’ll come up when I’ve finished mine”
To the casual observer we would have looked like a married couple, if they only knew.
When I got up to the room I found Claire stood in front of the mirror sporting a pair of ivory silk knickers and she was trying to wrestle her breasts into the matching bra.
The first one would go in its cup with only a little persuasion but just as she got the second one in and the first one popped out again or both nipples would suddenly appear above the lace.
And all the time her buttocks were doing the mumbo inside her silk drawers, I was enjoying her performance very much indeed.
“Are you having a bit of trouble Betty?” I asked in my best Frank Spencer.
“I’ve bought the wrong bloody cup size,” she snapped
“Did you only buy one?” I enquired
“No of course not” she replied crossly
“But they’re all the same size” I speculated
“Yes” she mumbled and stamped her feet. “And I wanted to look and feel stunning tonight”
“You always look stunning,” I said honestly
“That’s very sweet” Claire said and turned to kiss me and both dark pink nipples peered over the top of the ivory lace.
“What am I going to do?” she asked as she rested her head on my chest “I don’t want to wear the black one, I’ve had it on all day”
“Go braless” I suggested
“I can’t go without a bra” Claire said horrified “I’m thirty four years old”
“Actually you’re thirty five” I corrected her “but you have fabulous tits”
She frowned at the correction of her age but smiled and blushed when I complicated her breasts.
She turned towards the mirror again and removed her ill-fitting bra and then began squishing and kneading her titties and evaluated their pliability in her reflection.
“I will not go out in Paris with my thirty five year old baps unslung” she stated
“Ok then how about a compromise?” I suggested, “You go braless but we eat in the hotel restaurant”
“We can’t eat here” Clair said very definitely “Have you seen the menu”
Claire picked up the menu off the desk and gave it me.
“It’s ridiculously expensive”
“My treat” I said throwing the menu on the bed without looking at it
“What is?” she asked suspiciously “the dinner or my going braless”
“Both” I replied
Claire had been in the bathroom for an age getting herself ready but when she finally emerged it was well worth the wait, she looked stunning in her new Parisian outfit.
“Wow” I said, as I looked her over from top to bottom.
Then I looked her over again, starting with her patent leather heels, black tights, a grey knitted dress, patent leather belt round her narrow waist, her unharnessed breast and holding up her soft brown curls a floral hair slide.
“That was well worth waiting for” I said
“Do I look ok?” she asked “is it a bit tarty?”
“You look gorgeous”
I wanted to kiss her there and then but her make up was pristine I didn’t want to disturb it, there would be time enough later to smudge her lippy.
“Now if you would like to take my arm” I said proffering said limb “I would like the honour of escorting you to dinner”
As we walked into the restaurant I could feel the heads turn, and I felt immensely proud.
The lighting was subdued and it was clearly a venue for romantic trysts or secret assignations and strangely I didn’t feel out of place.
The restaurant was quite busy but as it was laid out in discreet booths rather than open tables it was not overly noisy.
We were shown to a booth and I let Claire slide in first then I followed her.
Once we were both settled I ordered champagne.
“Champagne?” Claire said, “Lovely, I am being spoiled”
“Its no more than you deserve” I said
After a glass or two of champers, while we were awaiting the arrival of the first course, Claire said
“Thank you Simon”
“For what?” I asked
“This” she replied with a hand gesture
“Don’t thank me, thank Henri for publishing my mucky story”
“No I don’t mean that” she said and took another big sip of champagne as she tried to find the words.
“I never get to do this” she explained, “the couple’s thing”
“You’ve made it feel like a date” she continued, “I never get to go on a date, with the person I love”
“But this is the next best thing, so thank you” and wiping away a tear she slid out of the booth and rushed off in the direction of the ladies room.
Our relationship had always been, since that first chance encounter in London, best characterized as fuck buddies.
We liked each other and enjoyed each others company but mainly we “enjoyed” each other in the physical sense.
Well I had to admit that this whole trip had felt more like a romantic break than a dirty getaway.
And I also had to admit that I rather liked it and I suppose it was a romance of sorts, we did feel like a proper couple when we were together, but I was in love with Georgia and Claire was in love with Kenny.
The rest was all of the moment.
Claire returned from the ladies just as the starters arrived.
“Ok?” I asked as I squeezed her hand
“Yes” she replied with a smile and a reciprocal squeeze.
Any damage that may have been caused to her makeup from the tears had been efficiently repaired and she looked as stunning as she did before.
Satisfied that all was fine we turned our attentions to the food, which turned out to be wonderful.
After the starters were demolished we thought nothing could possibly surpass it but we were wrong because the main course was sublime.
As we ate we chatted about mutual friends in the village and repeated gossip about those we had no time for.
Just as we were clearing the remaining morsels of ambrosia from our plates we got onto the topic of the Reverent Oliver and the mutual high esteem we held her in.
“I wouldn’t mind her conducting my wedding ceremony,” I said out of the blue
“I don’t think she’ll be around that long” Claire replied
I was just about to refute her foul slur by enlightening her on the disposition of my heart
When she said, “What’s for pudding?”
“You’ve only just had your main,” I pointed out
“I like pudding” she said matter of factly and for some reason blushed.
Then she stood up a little unsteady on her feet and announce
“I need to pee”
And off she went.
It was somewhat curious behaviour but that’s champagne for you.
When she returned I was already perusing the desert menu and salivating at the mere prospect of devouring any one of its delights but when I looked at Claire’s face she looked like she’d already indulged.
“What are you looking so pleased about?” I asked her
“I am being Parisen” she replied enigmatically.
I moved closer to her in the booth and placed my hand on her knee before sliding it up her skirt to discover to my surprise her stocking tops.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows by way of enquiry
“I didn’t want you to rip the crotch out of another pair of tights”
She replied matter of factly
My hand proceeded past her stocking tops up her naked thigh until to my delight I reached her fluffy bush.
“When did they come off” I asked “because I know you had them on when we left the room?”
“When I went to the loo, I slipped them into my handbag” she replied her cheeks flushed “And then I walked through the restaurant “sans culotte””
Claire giggled.
“Wow its very saucy” I said “and you know I like saucy, but why did you do it?”
“I wanted to know what it would feel like” she replied
“And?” I asked
“It felt really dirty” she replied “but in a good way”
And we both laughed and I felt the slightest relief that we had successfully navigated the hazardous terrain of romance and feelings and returned to the safer more familiar territory of sex.
Then we thoroughly indulged ourselves with the desert trolley which was when I began in earnest to stare at her lovely tits, pertly sitting unfettered beneath her knitted dress and I continued to ogle her jiggling puddings during and after the deserts were finished and while the coffee was being served.
“Haven’t you seen enough yet?” she chastised
“Never” I replied “and I’m certainly not the only man or woman in the restaurant admiring your form”
Claire blushed and suddenly became self-conscious and tried to cover her breasts and the now erect nipples.
“You could leave here with any man you choose,” I said truthfully
“I already am,” she said
“You keep talking like that and you might even get lucky”
“You’ll be the lucky one” Claire said draining her cup “now let’s go”
We left the restaurant in a very dignified way considering the amount of Champagne we had consumed though we had only gone about ten yards before Claire had to slip her heels off in the interest of safety.
Though our mutual need of each other was urgent the door to the room opened in a more controlled manner than the night of our arrival and we actually made it to the room proper before we kissed.
It was a long, slow, passionate kiss which, had we not already been aroused would definitely have lit the boilers.
As we kissed I stroked her plump breast through her dress and played with her stiff nipple and she rubbed her thigh against my bulging cock.
After a few moments longer Claire pushed me away and then dropped her expensive new shoes on the floor before starting to undo the belt around her waist while I removed my trousers, pants, socks and shirt, then I helped Claire undo the belt.
Then I turned her around so she was facing the mirror and I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck as she hugged my arms.
I could tell Claire was getting impatient as she kept rubbing her arse against my erection so I stepped back a few inches and, inch by inch I undid the zipper on her dress until her back was completely naked all the way down to her bum cleavage.
I slipped both hand inside, cupping her titties and playing with her teats then the dress slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.
Claire murmured softly as I continued to caress her breasts and she positioned one buttock either side of my cock and rubbed herself up and down me.
I knew as much as I was enjoying the slow seduction that Claire was ready to play so reluctantly my right hand left her breast and moved quickly down her body, my hand briefly brushing her lush bush, before engaging with her creamy pussy.
She began to moan the instant my digits breached her lips, long and low.
“Orrrrrr”
Quietly at first.
Then after she raised one knee onto the desk her cunny really opened for me and they became much louder and more persistent until she came.
Claire climbed off the desk and turned to face me, planting a wet kiss on my lips and grasping my shaft firmly as I wiped my creamy fingers on the desk blotter.
Then between kisses she asked
“Stockings”
Kiss
“On”
Kiss
“Or off?”
Kiss
“On of course” I replied
Kiss
“I thought”
Kiss
“You’d say that”
Kiss
“You pervert,” she said
I picked her up and carried her to the bed and laid her on her back, Claire instantly opened her stocking clad thighs to receive me and then I penetrated her hot honeyed cunt.
I gave her a full length, then another then another as she writhed and moaned beneath me
Claire was biting her lip as she wrapped her black-sheathed legs around me and began clawing my back and I quickened the pace, her squirming pussy creamed my balls and she moaned beneath me.
My throbbing cock thrust deeply into her pussy again and again and her thighs gripped me tightly while I pounded her the pace building steadily faster and faster
Her nails cut deeper into my skin as we moaned and grunted in unison, speeding on and on.
Until we reached maximum velocity, the point of no return, then she shuddered beneath me and we both exploded in utter ecstasy.
And panting with pleasure, there we stayed until morning.
Claire in my arms impaled on my shaft and pinned to the wall.
We remained in the vestibule whilst I was still in Claire’s vestibule if you like, for an indeterminate time, until Claire needed to pee.
So I set her down on the floor and kissed her slowly and sensually.
Then we opened the inner door and entered the room properly for the first time.
Claire needed the loo too much to examine the room in detail, so while she went in the bathroom I carried the bags in and tried not to listen to her peeing, I know I’m a perve but I can’t help it, it just does it for me.
When she had finished in the bathroom she walked out wearing her sweater and no bra and with her nipples standing proud and although the garment was long it still left a tantalizing portion of her bush visible.
In one hand she was carrying a pink bra in the other a pair of wet knickers,
“You have decimated my underwear,” she announced exasperated
“Three pairs of tights, two pairs of soiled knickers and a broken bra”
I did think to point out that I wasn’t present when the first pair of tights were ruined and the third pair were down to her but I decided not to as I had no defense in regard to the second pair and anyway I was really enjoying looking at her bush.
Then she threw her wet knickers at my face and said
“Stop looking at my muff while I’m telling you off”
She was laughing as she picked up her dirty pants and rubbed them in my face.
“I hope you don’t think this is a punishment,” I said
“Urgh you’re disgusting” she exclaimed then she hugged me.
We deliberated briefly on what we should do next, eat in the room, get spruced up and go somewhere chic or quickly freshen up and go find a bistro.
We decided on the latter and twenty minutes later wearing jeans and trainers we were crossing the hotel lobby and just as we reached the main door Claire sneezed.
“Oh shit there goes another pair,” she said and I laughed.
“It’s not funny” she said, “I’ve only got one pair left”
I was still laughing when she punched my arm and she was giggling herself as she said quietly.
“You’ve soiled three pairs of knickers in one day and now I need to buy some more”
“You could always go commando,” I suggested
“I can’t do that” Claire exclaimed, quite mortified but still chuckling “I’m not a tart”
That kind of set the tone for the evening and when we found a bistro we entertained ourselves by identifying the patrons who were “sans culotte” or as we liked to call them Parisien
When we retuned to Hotel we finished the night off making love in bed, it was a more tender and restrained union than our earlier one but every bit as pleasurable for all that.
I awoke the next morning to find an empty space in the bed next to me, this was not the norm when sleeping with Claire who was partial to an early morning spoon, and had a considerable number of weapons in her arsenal to encourage me to be so inclined.
This morning however she was already up and in the shower.
I lay in bed for a while nursing my early riser feeling a little crestfallen.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed Claire was just coming out of the bathroom pink and luscious and draped in towels.
I was bleary eyed and naked and still had a boner which Claire couldn’t help but notice.
“Morning Gorgeous” she said
“Hi hon.” I replied
“I was talking to your friend” she said and took hold of my cock and stroked it gently as she kissed me.
“Now go and have a shower,” Claire added as she gave my old chap a final stroke.
While I was in the shower my erection abated but I thought Claire would bring it back to life in a second.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I was spotlessly clean, sweet smelling with minty fresh breath and ready for action.
So imagine my surprise when I found Claire wearing a black bra with matching pants just visible through her usual 70 denier black tights.
She had a skinny waist and neat hips and the most beautifully round buttocks, and oh yes the boner was back.
The very appealing sight of Claire in black underwear and tights had left me with a pronounced bulge in my towel but she was clearly not ready for action.
“Are we not canoodling this morning?” I asked in a pitiful voice not unlike that of Oliver Twist asking for more gruel.
“No time Babe” she said
“I have time for a quick breakfast then I need to get to the conference centre”
And after a prolonged glance at the bulge in my towel she continued
“So you can stop pointing that thing at me, I’m interested in a sausage of a very different sort”
And after seeing the crestfallen look on my face she kissed me before saying
“But if you keep it warm I’ll eat it later”
So resigned to the fact I wasn’t going to be dipping my wick before breakfast but with the promise of later delights I quickly dressed for the day and joined Claire for breakfast before seeing her into a cab.
Her symposium and my potential French publisher were in opposite directions so we had to take separate taxis.
As my appointment with the publisher wasn’t until the afternoon and Claire was busy all day I decided to do some sight seeing.
After a brief word with the concierge I secured the services of an English speaking taxi driver who gave me the full tour, The Arc de Triomphe, the Champs-Elysées, The Sorbonne and the Latin Quarter, The Louvre, Montmartre, Sacre Coeur and the Eiffel Tower.
I was very impressed with the city but my enjoyment was tinged with the regret that Georgia wasn’t there to enjoy it with me.
It struck me all of a sudden and quite out of the blue.
Frankly I was taken aback that in the middle of my adulterous Parisian break with the delicious doctor it was my girlfriend with whom I wanted to experience Paris.
This had never happened before.
I had the taxi drop me at the Eiffel tower and I walked the banks the Seine as I mulled over the consequences of what had occurred.
I knew that I loved Georgia obviously, that was a given, but I had never consciously missed her when I was playing away.
I stopped at a café and ordered coffee and a pastry and I decided that I had to bring Georgie to Paris maybe in the spring or on her birthday.
A different hotel obviously and a different bistro, in fact anywhere I’d been with Claire was a no-no which of course meant the Eurostar.
As I finished the last mouthful of cake I got a tingle at the root of my cock just at the thought of the Eurostar, which was quite inappropriate, I chastised myself for my insensitivity.
However I resolved that I would definitely bring Georgia with me to Paris.
When I had finished my coffee I checked my watch and got up to find a taxi.
I arrived at the publishers ten minutes early and found myself somewhat surprised at what I found.
I had expected the publishers of a “gentlemen’s magazine” to be rather seedy and down market but not a bit of it.
It was all bright lights and glass with an ostentatious façade and a flashy in your face attitude and not a dirty raincoat in sight.
My meeting was with the editor Henri Montpelier who spoke perfect English and thanked me for meeting with him.
I only stayed about half an hour not because they didn’t impress me but because I didn’t want to waste their time, I had only agreed to meet them at all because it gave me an excuse to be in Paris so I could spend three days shagging the naughty doctor.
My reasons for not agreeing to publish remained unchanged as far as I was concerned.
I left Henri and he said he would contact Lionel Blum with an offer, I said fine.
I thought at the very least it would allow me to gauge my worth as a writer of dirty books.
On the way back to the hotel in the cab Lionel called me to congratulate me,
“You must have made a great impression my dear,” he said
“They’ve made an offer”
Then he told me the details and I nearly dropped the phone.
At the hotel I couldn’t wait to tell someone and for the second time that day I regretted Georgia not being there.
I went up to the room and let myself in but the room was empty so I went back downstairs and into the bar.
I fancied a pint but they only had French beer, which was weaker than piss so I ordered a large glass of white wine instead.
I texted Claire to say I was in the bar and to join me when she arrived
She replied ok
I took my drink out on the terrace, which was bathed in the surprisingly warm October sunshine, but it was cooler than it looked so I went back inside.
I found myself a seat and took my phone from my pocket and called Georgia.
We spoke for about an hour, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed hearing her voice, and shared my news.
I was on my second glass of wine when Claire arrived clutching an assortment of bags.
“Hi handsome” she said kissing me then she whispered. “I had to go shopping for you know what’s”
“That’s ok,” I said kissing her back, knowing precisely what the “you know what’s” were, “blimey are all those bags full of knickers?”
“Shhh” she exclaimed “no of course not, but one thing led to another after all how often does a girl get the chance to shop in Paris”
“Quite right” I agreed, “do you want a drink?”
“No thanks babe. I want to go and try these on” Claire replied excitedly
“Ok, I’ll come up when I’ve finished mine”
To the casual observer we would have looked like a married couple, if they only knew.
When I got up to the room I found Claire stood in front of the mirror sporting a pair of ivory silk knickers and she was trying to wrestle her breasts into the matching bra.
The first one would go in its cup with only a little persuasion but just as she got the second one in and the first one popped out again or both nipples would suddenly appear above the lace.
And all the time her buttocks were doing the mumbo inside her silk drawers, I was enjoying her performance very much indeed.
“Are you having a bit of trouble Betty?” I asked in my best Frank Spencer.
“I’ve bought the wrong bloody cup size,” she snapped
“Did you only buy one?” I enquired
“No of course not” she replied crossly
“But they’re all the same size” I speculated
“Yes” she mumbled and stamped her feet. “And I wanted to look and feel stunning tonight”
“You always look stunning,” I said honestly
“That’s very sweet” Claire said and turned to kiss me and both dark pink nipples peered over the top of the ivory lace.
“What am I going to do?” she asked as she rested her head on my chest “I don’t want to wear the black one, I’ve had it on all day”
“Go braless” I suggested
“I can’t go without a bra” Claire said horrified “I’m thirty four years old”
“Actually you’re thirty five” I corrected her “but you have fabulous tits”
She frowned at the correction of her age but smiled and blushed when I complicated her breasts.
She turned towards the mirror again and removed her ill-fitting bra and then began squishing and kneading her titties and evaluated their pliability in her reflection.
“I will not go out in Paris with my thirty five year old baps unslung” she stated
“Ok then how about a compromise?” I suggested, “You go braless but we eat in the hotel restaurant”
“We can’t eat here” Clair said very definitely “Have you seen the menu”
Claire picked up the menu off the desk and gave it me.
“It’s ridiculously expensive”
“My treat” I said throwing the menu on the bed without looking at it
“What is?” she asked suspiciously “the dinner or my going braless”
“Both” I replied
Claire had been in the bathroom for an age getting herself ready but when she finally emerged it was well worth the wait, she looked stunning in her new Parisian outfit.
“Wow” I said, as I looked her over from top to bottom.
Then I looked her over again, starting with her patent leather heels, black tights, a grey knitted dress, patent leather belt round her narrow waist, her unharnessed breast and holding up her soft brown curls a floral hair slide.
“That was well worth waiting for” I said
“Do I look ok?” she asked “is it a bit tarty?”
“You look gorgeous”
I wanted to kiss her there and then but her make up was pristine I didn’t want to disturb it, there would be time enough later to smudge her lippy.
“Now if you would like to take my arm” I said proffering said limb “I would like the honour of escorting you to dinner”
As we walked into the restaurant I could feel the heads turn, and I felt immensely proud.
The lighting was subdued and it was clearly a venue for romantic trysts or secret assignations and strangely I didn’t feel out of place.
The restaurant was quite busy but as it was laid out in discreet booths rather than open tables it was not overly noisy.
We were shown to a booth and I let Claire slide in first then I followed her.
Once we were both settled I ordered champagne.
“Champagne?” Claire said, “Lovely, I am being spoiled”
“Its no more than you deserve” I said
After a glass or two of champers, while we were awaiting the arrival of the first course, Claire said
“Thank you Simon”
“For what?” I asked
“This” she replied with a hand gesture
“Don’t thank me, thank Henri for publishing my mucky story”
“No I don’t mean that” she said and took another big sip of champagne as she tried to find the words.
“I never get to do this” she explained, “the couple’s thing”
“You’ve made it feel like a date” she continued, “I never get to go on a date, with the person I love”
“But this is the next best thing, so thank you” and wiping away a tear she slid out of the booth and rushed off in the direction of the ladies room.
Our relationship had always been, since that first chance encounter in London, best characterized as fuck buddies.
We liked each other and enjoyed each others company but mainly we “enjoyed” each other in the physical sense.
Well I had to admit that this whole trip had felt more like a romantic break than a dirty getaway.
And I also had to admit that I rather liked it and I suppose it was a romance of sorts, we did feel like a proper couple when we were together, but I was in love with Georgia and Claire was in love with Kenny.
The rest was all of the moment.
Claire returned from the ladies just as the starters arrived.
“Ok?” I asked as I squeezed her hand
“Yes” she replied with a smile and a reciprocal squeeze.
Any damage that may have been caused to her makeup from the tears had been efficiently repaired and she looked as stunning as she did before.
Satisfied that all was fine we turned our attentions to the food, which turned out to be wonderful.
After the starters were demolished we thought nothing could possibly surpass it but we were wrong because the main course was sublime.
As we ate we chatted about mutual friends in the village and repeated gossip about those we had no time for.
Just as we were clearing the remaining morsels of ambrosia from our plates we got onto the topic of the Reverent Oliver and the mutual high esteem we held her in.
“I wouldn’t mind her conducting my wedding ceremony,” I said out of the blue
“I don’t think she’ll be around that long” Claire replied
I was just about to refute her foul slur by enlightening her on the disposition of my heart
When she said, “What’s for pudding?”
“You’ve only just had your main,” I pointed out
“I like pudding” she said matter of factly and for some reason blushed.
Then she stood up a little unsteady on her feet and announce
“I need to pee”
And off she went.
It was somewhat curious behaviour but that’s champagne for you.
When she returned I was already perusing the desert menu and salivating at the mere prospect of devouring any one of its delights but when I looked at Claire’s face she looked like she’d already indulged.
“What are you looking so pleased about?” I asked her
“I am being Parisen” she replied enigmatically.
I moved closer to her in the booth and placed my hand on her knee before sliding it up her skirt to discover to my surprise her stocking tops.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows by way of enquiry
“I didn’t want you to rip the crotch out of another pair of tights”
She replied matter of factly
My hand proceeded past her stocking tops up her naked thigh until to my delight I reached her fluffy bush.
“When did they come off” I asked “because I know you had them on when we left the room?”
“When I went to the loo, I slipped them into my handbag” she replied her cheeks flushed “And then I walked through the restaurant “sans culotte””
Claire giggled.
“Wow its very saucy” I said “and you know I like saucy, but why did you do it?”
“I wanted to know what it would feel like” she replied
“And?” I asked
“It felt really dirty” she replied “but in a good way”
And we both laughed and I felt the slightest relief that we had successfully navigated the hazardous terrain of romance and feelings and returned to the safer more familiar territory of sex.
Then we thoroughly indulged ourselves with the desert trolley which was when I began in earnest to stare at her lovely tits, pertly sitting unfettered beneath her knitted dress and I continued to ogle her jiggling puddings during and after the deserts were finished and while the coffee was being served.
“Haven’t you seen enough yet?” she chastised
“Never” I replied “and I’m certainly not the only man or woman in the restaurant admiring your form”
Claire blushed and suddenly became self-conscious and tried to cover her breasts and the now erect nipples.
“You could leave here with any man you choose,” I said truthfully
“I already am,” she said
“You keep talking like that and you might even get lucky”
“You’ll be the lucky one” Claire said draining her cup “now let’s go”
We left the restaurant in a very dignified way considering the amount of Champagne we had consumed though we had only gone about ten yards before Claire had to slip her heels off in the interest of safety.
Though our mutual need of each other was urgent the door to the room opened in a more controlled manner than the night of our arrival and we actually made it to the room proper before we kissed.
It was a long, slow, passionate kiss which, had we not already been aroused would definitely have lit the boilers.
As we kissed I stroked her plump breast through her dress and played with her stiff nipple and she rubbed her thigh against my bulging cock.
After a few moments longer Claire pushed me away and then dropped her expensive new shoes on the floor before starting to undo the belt around her waist while I removed my trousers, pants, socks and shirt, then I helped Claire undo the belt.
Then I turned her around so she was facing the mirror and I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck as she hugged my arms.
I could tell Claire was getting impatient as she kept rubbing her arse against my erection so I stepped back a few inches and, inch by inch I undid the zipper on her dress until her back was completely naked all the way down to her bum cleavage.
I slipped both hand inside, cupping her titties and playing with her teats then the dress slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.
Claire murmured softly as I continued to caress her breasts and she positioned one buttock either side of my cock and rubbed herself up and down me.
I knew as much as I was enjoying the slow seduction that Claire was ready to play so reluctantly my right hand left her breast and moved quickly down her body, my hand briefly brushing her lush bush, before engaging with her creamy pussy.
She began to moan the instant my digits breached her lips, long and low.
“Orrrrrr”
Quietly at first.
Then after she raised one knee onto the desk her cunny really opened for me and they became much louder and more persistent until she came.
Claire climbed off the desk and turned to face me, planting a wet kiss on my lips and grasping my shaft firmly as I wiped my creamy fingers on the desk blotter.
Then between kisses she asked
“Stockings”
Kiss
“On”
Kiss
“Or off?”
Kiss
“On of course” I replied
Kiss
“I thought”
Kiss
“You’d say that”
Kiss
“You pervert,” she said
I picked her up and carried her to the bed and laid her on her back, Claire instantly opened her stocking clad thighs to receive me and then I penetrated her hot honeyed cunt.
I gave her a full length, then another then another as she writhed and moaned beneath me
Claire was biting her lip as she wrapped her black-sheathed legs around me and began clawing my back and I quickened the pace, her squirming pussy creamed my balls and she moaned beneath me.
My throbbing cock thrust deeply into her pussy again and again and her thighs gripped me tightly while I pounded her the pace building steadily faster and faster
Her nails cut deeper into my skin as we moaned and grunted in unison, speeding on and on.
Until we reached maximum velocity, the point of no return, then she shuddered beneath me and we both exploded in utter ecstasy.
And panting with pleasure, there we stayed until morning.
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