We were staying in Paris a few years ago, at the Hotel Angleterre, a historic building made into a hotel many years ago. I'm George, my wife is Jane, Jayne, or Janey, pick one. Janey was thirty-two, not beautiful, but a very attractive redhead with long sexy legs. She enjoys the attention of men, and has had many men friends, some of them intimate. I'm ten years older than her and we've been married for ten years.
There was a nice restaurant we'd been to before, highly recommended, very cosmopolitan and friendly, called Polidor. It was up Rue le Prince and not a long walk from the hotel.
It was a nice spring evening so we decided to walk. As it turned out it was further than we had remembered and the pavement was rough and uneven, so even though we made it okay we decided we'd get a taxi to get back to the hotel when we left.
The restaurant was crowded and noisy and at first we shared a table with another couple, Spaniards I think. After they left another couple joined us. They were middle-European, Czech or Polish. They spoke pretty good English and as we sat on opposite sides of the table we shared some interesting conversation and a few jokes. We also shared a bottle of red wine over our meal.
We were eating when we were joined by a Frenchman about my age who couldn't get a table. Now we had three languages going but the wine (another bottle had appeared) made it all understandable.
As we talked I noticed the Frenchman had his hand on Janey's knee. She doesn't speak any French, so I had to try to interpret what he was saying, which was getting pretty personal. As, for instance, did she go out with men other than her husband, or rather, did her husband allow her to go out with other men. When I told her what he'd said she just nodded. And the rather one-sided conversation continued.
As he continued his hand had now slipped under the hem of her short skirt. If I could see I knew the others could see too because of the way they looked at each other and smiled. Then the man of the other couple asked me if I minded it. I said I didn't mind if it gave her pleasure. Adding that it probably wouldn't go anywhere anyway.
And so it continued, his hand slowly working up under Janey's skirt, and she had turned her knees toward him, so it was obvious he must have his hand on her soft inner thigh. He was still talking to her even though she didn't understand much of what he was saying, but I thought I heard him use the "baiser", which can mean either to kiss or fuck, depending on the context. I thought it was time to go, and I was getting pretty hot watching the man at work on my wife, and I wanted to get her back to the hotel room.
When we stood up to go the Frenchman asked where we were staying and when I told him, and that we were going to get a taxi, he said his car was outside and he'd take us. I hesitated, but Janey jumped at the idea. He helped us into a dilapidated Citroen 2CV parked out on the street, me sitting in the back, Janey on the passenger seat in front.
As he drove to the hotel his hand went immediately under Janey's skirt as she turned her legs toward him. As we drove he must have hit the spot, because she was sitting, eyes closed, knees apart for him. Suddenly she pulled away, pulled up her skirt, pulled off her panties and threw them on the floor. Turning back she tried to put one leg over the gear shift but couldn't do it, so she sat there with her skirt pulled and legs apart while he fingered her.
I was wondering what we'd do when we got to the hotel. If he just dropped us off, that was okay. We could go up to the room and finish what he'd started. Or if he wanted to continue, what then?
My question was soon answered when we go there. He parked and we all got out without a word. He and I followed Janey up to the front door and went in. He paused to talk to the concierge, slipped him some money with a smile and we all went up to the room. Once in the door the Frenchman immediately took Janey into his arms and kissed her while running his hands all over her body. She responded eagerly, their open mouths avidly sucking down each others saliva.
They were ignoring me and as I could see I wasn't wanted I slipped quietly over to a chaise longue on the other side of the room to watch them.
He was trying to unbutton her blouse but was fumbling, so Janey opened it for him. After that she undid her bra and he started to kiss, fondle and suck her breasts. Janey moaned with pleasure and pushed her lower body against his leg. Next I watched his hand slip up under her skirt and between her legs. They were still standing as she tried to spread her legs wider for him. Her skirt was too tight, so he pushed her skirt up and she was naked from the waist down showing the nice bushy tuft of hair between her legs.
