Little French Kisses

He stood in front of her at the door of the small house and stared into her eyes, slowly moving his face closer and closer, holding her eyes to his.

His lips touched hers, softly, gently, still holding her gaze. He licked her lower lip slowly with the tip of his tongue, pressed her mouth to his. His tongue searched for hers, found it, caressed it with little french kisses.

He slid his hand up her neck and buried his fingers in her hair. He lifted his other hand, cupping her head in his palms, and kissed her more deeply. Closing their eyes, they both breathed out, sinking into the warmth.

He peppered her face gently with kisses and his warm breath, as he moved his hands down over her shoulders, sliding them along her arms until he grasped her hands, intertwining his fingers in hers.

He held her hands against the wall and leaned her against it. His body pressed hers, and she could feel the weight of his chest on her breasts, his stomach on hers, his groin on her leg, and his leg between hers.

He kissed her mouth again and again, kneading it and working it; grasping, sucking, holding and releasing her tongue with an intensifying rhythm.

Relinquishing her hands, he circled her waist, holding her hips in his palms. He rocked her hips slowly back and forth, moving his body against hers in a primal dance.

He ran his mouth down her neck to the hollow where her shirt collar began, and she sighed deeply, making a little noise of pleasure.

She touched his arms tentatively, running her fingers up to his shoulders and down over his back until she was holding his belt loops.

She caressed his waist and sides, rubbing back and forth around them, pulling his flesh closer as he sucked the skin along her neck and shoulder, pushing her shirt out of the way.

Pulling away from her, he watched his own hands as they unbuttoned the length of her blouse, brushing against the soft skin and aroused nipples beneath it.

His broad back moved to hide her under the porch light as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She grasped the material and opened it, pulling him against her bared skin as he pushed the front of her blouse aside.

He kissed her again, deeply, sumptuously, and thrust his hands inside her blouse around her sides, groaning with hunger.

Her breasts fell easily into his hands as he bent to kiss and mouthe her white skinned chest.

Still shielding her torso with his, he opened the door next to them and guided her into the dark room inside.

"My parents are home," she whispered.

"Sh-h-h," he soothed. "Don't worry..."

He emphasized the "t" with his cute little accent.

"...n'est pas important..." he reassured.

He sat on a couch dimly visible in the light which sifted in through the doorway, wide open to the cool summer night air. Crickets serenaded outside, and a solitary car cut a swath of light through the darkness beyond, then passed.

He pulled her onto his lap. Her legs straddled his as her bent knees pressed into the back of the couch. He pushed his hips toward her, pressing his mound into the swelling hollow between her legs. He circled her with his arms, hugging tightly and nesting into her neck.

Then he pushed her back again, away from him, and held her blouse open, gazing at her breasts.

"T'as de beaux seins...sont magnifiques..." he muttered.

She was panting, and he watched her chest heave with the breaths. She grinned, watching him watch her.

Then he began to run his finger along her stomach in a zigzag pattern until he was tracing the rib at the base of her breasts. She moaned with the torture of impatience, took his hands and covered her breasts. His grip tightened and he kneaded them, closing his eyes--feeling, feeling.

She pulled his shirttails out and fumbled to unlatch his belt, shoving her hand down to feel his mound.

He held her waist as she unbuttoned his jeans, reaching inside to rub and grasp. She pulled them off and kneeled on the floor, liberating his fat red cock from its spandex cage and sucking it into her mouth. It pulsed with a life of its own, answering her movements with a tightening, staccato growth, like a spore ready to burst.

Climbing to the couch, she kneeled next to him, raising her ass into the air and sucking him again. She took his hand to her cunt, rubbing his fingers across the wet flesh. He began the rhythm slowly, growing faster, completing the circuit running through his cock.

"Je te desire," he growled, pushing a seeking finger into her.

She raised her leg over him and upped the voltage, plugging into the mainline.

"Ah-h-h! Mon dieu..." he groaned as she rode him, pulling the electricity into her.

He grasped her and hugged her tightly to him, answering her thrusts with his hips; letting her draw it out of him electron by electron.

"Take me!" she gasped, feeling his cock fill up her entire body. "Take me there..."

"Vas-y, cherie," he whispered in her ear. "Vas-y..."

She thrust harder and faster. "I'm coming!" she warned.

He moaned, "Je vais venir, cherie...je vais decharger!"

Her body jerked as she thrust her hips at him as far as she could.

"Donne-moi, donne-moi, donne-moi!" he cried.

A muffled groan escaped her as the waves of pleasure washed through her body. She could feel his jism shooting into her rhythmically and his cock tightening as he moaned over and over.

"Sh-h-h," she repeated. "Sh-h-h."

"Je t'adore!" he whispered. "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime," he echoed, kissing her over and over.

"I love you, too," she panted and breathed and kissed his face and his succulent lips and his neck and his earlobes and his cheek.