Other Voices - Danielle

I was born in the years immediately after the Second World War in a small French town in the Loire Valley. My father owned a dairy farm and fortunately we had escaped the devastation that many places in Europe endured.

I had a sister, Marie, two years older and a younger one, Sophie. My childhood was spent helping out on the farm and we girls were put to work as soon as we were able to do chores.

Unlike our city relatives, I learned about sex at an early age, but didn't actually give my virginity to Jacques until after I was eighteen. I didn't say "lost" because I was anxious to enter the world of women. As with such things, alcohol was involved. We had gone to the traveling carnival in the village and played some of the games. Unlike other places, the prizes weren't dolls but cheap wine. We won two and promptly drank them. A little later, in the backseat of Jacques father's car, I removed my panties and willingly spread my legs. The rupture of my maidenhead was painful of course, but it soon passed and I was grateful for Jacques patience. I knew I was in my safe period and we fucked with abandon. For me, I didn't reach any high degree of satisfaction, but I knew there was more to discover.

Marie had been the first in our family to attend the university and I followed her two years later. I was unsure of what my future path should be, but while there I discovered both an interest and aptitude for business subjects and that's the field I finally chose.

Like much of Europe and America, France was in the middle of a culture war. For my generation the mantra became; drugs, alcohol, sex and Rock & Roll, and I enlisted with enthusiasm. Other than some mild experimentation with marijuana, I avoided the drug part, but embraced the rest, especially sex.

Before coming to the University, I'd had a couple of boyfriends and one other person I'd let into my panties. While one or two times, my partner showed some rudimentary skills, for the most part they were still fumbling boys. In my first year however I met Henri. He was in his third year and had known my sister Marie and that's how I ended up at the party in his apartment.

There was a large punchbowl near the entrance and it appeared that whatever libation anyone brought was poured into it. The air was thick with the smell of weed and the music was by a new group that was becoming popular, The Beatles.

I wasn't there with anyone, but sometime during the night I ended up dancing with Henri. I had had a couple of drinks, and while I wasn't smoking any of the weed, what I was getting second hand was enough. Henri was ruggedly handsome and he had a great body from playing rugby which was only a minor sport, but obviously one where you needed to be in great shape. He had been circling the room by the time he got to me.

When I introduced myself he stepped back and looked at me. "Non," he said, " You can't be Marie's 'little' sister." He was staring directly at my halter clad bosom and I knew exactly what he meant.

It was true. In the previous six months, I had blossomed from a skinny farm girl into a woman's body. My breasts, which hadn't been much more than fleshy nubs on my chest, had filled out and their weight had already caused them to begin to sag. I had become quite enamored of them and I had started wearing more revealing clothes which highlighted their fullness on my chest. At night, I took pains to lovingly rub them with lotion and massage it into their softness. In addition, I found that, in their developed form, there was a connection between my nipples and my clit. When I masturbated, I now found that it was always with one hand pinching my nipples while the other diddled my clit.

Henri was not the first man to notice, but I enjoyed his hungry gaze and I turned a little so that he could better appreciate them in profile. There were not many slow songs, as most had the hot tempo of Rock and Roll, but it so happened that the next one was. Henri took me into his arms and I folded into the warmth of his body. He had been sweating and when I inhaled husky masculinity, my mind swooned and I felt desire arise in my loins.

Much of the rest of the party remains a blur, but at some point I found myself in his bedroom. We could still hear music through the door, but in my mind it was far away. Henri's lips were on mine and our tongues were finding ways into each other's mouths. He had taken off his T shirt and I was running my hands over the taut muscles of his broad shoulders and arms and I could feel the firmness of his hairy chest and rippled abs as they pressed against my soft tits.

Without complaint from me, he deftly removed my cotton shift and bra and soon I was as naked above the waist as he. When our bodies pressed against each other, I was acutely aware of the flattening of my soft tits against his hard chest. With my boyfriend's, they had groped me, but since I had not yet really developed, they hadn't expressed any real interest in seeing me naked there. When Henri first cupped my bare tit, I moaned the pleasure of his touch in his ear.

Henri was deft in his ability to simultaneously kiss and caress while relieving me of the rest of my clothing. When I was totally naked, he stepped back and just looked at my body, illuminated only by the golden glow of the bed lamp. I watched his eyes slowly roam over my curves and pause to savor my full breasts and trimmed pussy.

Soon, my own desire motivated me to step forward and take the initiative to begin unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. Never had I experienced any of the feelings of sensuousness that I was feeling with Henri. The desire to reveal and touch his manhood was like an opioid in my brain and after a soulful look into his eyes, I focused all of my attention on the task at hand.

I quickly pushed his jeans to his knees and then completely off, revealing a pair of black bikini briefs. Henri's cock was clearly outlined by the stretched material and I dropped to my knees to be closer to this magnificent object that was fueling my desire. My hand reached and grasp him outside the thin material and my fingers deciphered the length and thickness of his cock.

After another quick upward glance, I slipped my fingers into his waistband and began pulling downward. When I had revealed his wiry pubic hair and the base of his cock, I had to stop to savor the aroma of his manliness that was being released. My female senses began to overload and my desire for this man sent trembling shivers through my nipples and straight to my cunt.

Henri was caressing the hair on my head when I finally released his shaft from bondage. It bounced up and bobbed in front of my face just inches away. It wasn't the first penis that I had seen or touched, but it was, by far, the most beautiful. He had been circumcised and I had not seen that before. I thought his clean naked helmet was a definite improvement over the loose skin of my boyfriend's.

I reached up and grasped his shaft with my hand and noticed that my fingers barely met. A quick squeeze was enough to assess the firmness of the muscle and I was aware of it throbbing as blood rushed and expanded the shaft as I held it.

I had no warning of the mesmerizing power of a man's firm cock bobbing in front of your face and desire welled up inside my body to kiss his magnificent penis and take him into my mouth. I had heard of girl's doing this. Some of my classmates had talked about sucking their boyfriend's cocks. As I remembered, some said they liked it, but many thought it was gross and only did it because it was expected.

I looked up at Henri to gauge if it was expected of me, but I saw no sign on his smiling face that it was. It seemed like it would be my decision. If it was, I thought it to be an easy one. I leaned forward and, for the first time in my life, pressed my lips against a man's penis. The spongy softness of the helmet was a mild surprise when contrasted with the hard muscle below, but I loved the feel and the taste. There was a sheen of clear liquid coating his glans that I knew was a precursor to the musky sweet semen still resting in Henri's balls, and I tongued the clear liquid into my mouth, noting that it was almost tasteless.

In my kneeling position I could spread my knees enough to press my free hand between my legs and feel my own moisture leaking from my labia. My fingers slipped into my slit and rubbed this all along the furrow. My clit spasmed a little bit at my touch but the bulk of my attention was focused on Henri's penis which I was slowing taking into my mouth.

My God, I couldn't imagine how good it felt! I was loving the feeling of fullness as I engulfed more of his length. My taste buds were reporting a slightly acidic male muskiness and my tongue was flattening itself against the underside of Henri's invading member as if to weigh its satisfying presence.

Above the sound of the music muted by the closed door I could hear Henri's voice urging me on with gasps and moans as my mouth and tongue slid over the sensitive nerves that the head of a man's cock has in abundance. He often called my name and was helpfully informing me of the state of his arousal. In my own mind, I had already reached the decision that I was going to have him cum in my mouth. My desire longed to taste and swallow his pearly spend and as I felt his firmness increase along with his groans, I thought it might not be long.

Henri did warn me of his impending ejaculation both by word and by the onset of rapid hip movements. For a moment he was literally fucking my mouth just as he would have done had he been deep in my cunt. But at the very moment of his release he stopped completely and I felt the first flood of salty semen. It was a little difficult to swallow with his cock still filling my mouth, but I was mostly successful. I could feel the throbbing of his penile muscles each time it sent another stream. My throat was working hard and I could feel his cum sliding down and coating its surface. Thankfully each spasm seemed to weaken and swallowing became easier until there was no more.

As much as I liked the feel of Henri's cock, I was thankful when he let me slide it from my mouth and lick my dry lips. I still retained some of his spending and my tongue was busy licking and marshaling it down my throat, but it was obvious by its oily feel that until I washed it out, that I would have the taste of him on my tongue for a while.

Henri had grabbed a towel from somewhere and as he pulled me to my feet he gave it to me and I wiped my face and the small pools that had escaped and fallen on my breasts. We cuddled for a while and I thought Henri was pleased but also solicitous of me and my feelings. I knew I liked being with him.

It turned out that he liked being with me too. We were on and off boyfriend and girlfriend for over a year until he was called to military service and posted to Algeria. We made love many times and he was a considerate and passionate man both in bed and without. I really missed him when we parted. Henri was my first real love.

If universities are places of learning, I was excelling both academically and in acquisition of the sexual arts. Mardi taught me the joy of adoring and pleasing another woman and I still remember the first time that I pressed my face into the space between her legs and coated my lips and tongue with her female juices. When we laid naked against each other, soft skin touching soft skin, I felt comforted and at peace in her arms, but while it was most pleasant, I yearned for and desired the hardness of males.

Looking back however, I've recognized something else that my relationship with Mardi gave me that I've only come to appreciate with the passage of time. An understanding of the attraction of the female body. While I am obviously not equipped by nature to see it exactly as men do, I experienced an awakening to the charm of a woman's softness that I didn't feel from the inside and the allure of tits and pussy to the gaze of eyes and the taste of mouth. When I realized that I was in possession of these same attributes, I felt a flash of nascent empowerment and my whole conception of my "femaleness" skyrocketed.

After Mardi, I had several short lived romances with men who, like I, were students. I did not consider myself promiscuous, but I was receptive to their sexual advances and I yearned to feel the emotional bond that I'd first experienced with Henri.

Alas, it was not to be. Oh I willingly sucked and fucked, but something was missing and it would end up taking a few more years for me to find it again.

After graduation, I was unsure of what my next step should be. My sister Marie had moved to Paris where she had gotten a job as a designer in a chic boutique and I thought that that magnificent city might be where my future lay as well, so for a short time I moved into her small apartment. It was not ideal in that it apparently interrupted her ability to fuck her boyfriend. Fortunately, I soon found employment working for a debt collection agency and was able to move to my own small apartment over a dry cleaning shop.

Over the next three years I spent my days chasing down deadbeat companies and individuals and my evenings frequenting bars and bistros looking for love. Marie had married and so I went with a couple of girlfriends I'd met. Sometimes I'd have a date and I got laid often enough to fight off sexual frustration, but I was looking for more.

Just as my life looked bleakest, fate intervened. One of my clients was a prestigious Parisenne law firm and its office manager was an older woman named Charlene. One day she called and told me that she was retiring, but she liked my work and asked if I was interested in replacing her.

Two weeks later I started my new job as the back room office manager. The firm had about twenty 'avocets' and four senior partners. The only one who was not married was a man named Phillipe. He was a tall, ruggedly handsome man with an accent typical of Alsace, where he was from. The women in the office were quick to warm me that Phillipe would probably try to get into my panties. I didn't tell them, but I certainly hoped so.

Three weeks later I did get an invitation to dinner. It was at an exclusive restaurant adjacent to the Bois de Boulogne. I was very nervous, and in the hour before he was to pick me up, I changed clothes at least four times. I really didn't know Phillipe, having spoken to him only a dozen times, but his reputation preceded him.

He arrived on time and he was dressed in one of the impeccable suits that I knew he always wore. I had chosen a tight skirt that accentuated my hips and a silk blouse that was tight enough so my tits filled it out, but loose enough to permit them to move in the way that I knew men found enticing.

Phillipe was a perfect gentleman through dinner. He asked if he could order for me and I nodded. I didn't tell him that no man had ever made me that offer. The meal was delicious and the wine he ordered was a perfect compliment. Over dinner we told each other our life stories and it took him no time at all to put me totally at ease.

When dinner was finished, we moved into the longue. He guided me toward three couches laid out in a U shape in front of a roaring fireplace. I sat in one of the end sections and Phillipe sat down next to me. He ordered two Grand Marnier's and put his arm on the backrest. I had drunk two large glasses of wine at dinner and the heady liqueur was giving me a delightful buzz. I could feel the warmth of Phillipe's leg pressed against mine and I knew his arm was resting just above my shoulders and it would only take a small movement for me to be in his arms.

We had begun a conversation about some of the personalities in the firm and I had Phillipe laughing at some of my observations which apparently agreed with his own. I don't know what in God's name caused me to share the warning that I had been given about him. He seemed unperturbed, but his fingers reached and pivoted my chin such that my eyes looked into his. "Do you think that I wish to get into your panties?" he whispered softly.

It was a moment of truth for me. The lady-like response would have been "of course not." but his strong masculine warmth was affecting my judgment and sometimes liquor causes you to tell the truth even when you shouldn't. Without dropping my gaze I responded with my heart. "I hope you do. I would..." my voice trailed off and I did blush at my own brazenness, but Phillipe did the only gentlemanly thing. He kissed me.

What followed was exactly like walking in a dream. The ride to his apartment, the elevator, his bedroom, the removal of our clothes and naked bodies pressed together under the comforter. His lips and tongue on mine, his hands caressing soft skin and feeling between my legs. He found my hole and inserted one, then two fingers.

I was surrounded by the warmth and smell of his masculinity and my female self responded in nature's way. When my arousal became too obvious to ignore. He asked me about protection, and when I said I was on birth control, he mounted me and soon I experienced the wonderful feeling of completion as his cock entered my clutching vagina.

For years I had thought that I had been seeking a man the equal of Henri. He had taken me to heights of sexual pleasure as no man ever had, but as Phillipe made love to my body that night, I realized that I had set my standard too low. It wasn't just his hard cock stroking into me, it was his hands, his lips, the strength of his muscles and the hypnotic softness of his voice that was transporting me to a place of sesenous awareness that I didn't know existed.

Phillipe was a masterful lover who paid as much attention to my pleasure as his own. He seemed to be able to read my body and adjust as necessary to keep us together as we rushed for our respective release. He encouraged me to use my fingers to rub my clit and as I did, we began the last wonderful leg of our sexual journey. It was my body that spasmed first and tidal waves of pleasure echoed through me as my pussy clenched Phillipe's cock in a stranglehold, but he was not far behind and I knew he was there when he stopped and I felt the throbbing of his cock push stream after stream of hot semen into my pulsating vagina.

The romance novels I had read as a girl had described feelings of love and completeness that seemed to wash over the being of the women in the stories, but as I had grown older, my own sexual experiences and feelings never seemed to match those that I had read about, so I had assigned them to the realm of literary license. In Phillipe's arms, I discovered that they were true. A month later, I packed up my things and moved in. I believed that I had found my true soulmate, little did I know that that it was just the beginning of a fantastic sexual adventure.

In those early days, I discovered that Phillipe was open and honest to a fault. He freely told me about other women (and men!) that he had sexual relations with and that he thought that even in committed relationships that variety was necessary in order that the bond not weaken from boredom or disuse. He made it obvious, without making a demand, that our relationship could be committed without being exclusive. It took me a while to get my mind around this concept and we discussed it over and over until his patience with me was rewarded when I faced my fears and admitted to myself that he was right. We would keep each other by opening the door to the gilded cage. There was one thing though that Phillipe said he could not tell about, but he hoped in a few months he could. It wasn't illegal, and it wasn't anything that would affect our relationship. I trusted him, so I waited.

We wedded three months later in a small civil ceremony with the understanding that our marriage would be open and honest. Neither of us wanted children, so I had my tubes tied and we chose to honeymoon at the famous naturist resort of Cap d' Adge in the south of France.