French Lesson

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.....