The Freyja Club

Sunlight was streaming into the room when I opened my eyes on Monday morning and it took me a few seconds to remember that I was in a hotel in the Paris suburb of Enghien-les-Bains and the naked woman sleeping next to me was Lily, the hostess from the Freyja Club, who I'd either met accidentally in the nearby casino last night or been guided there by the Norse Goddess Freyja who I believed was behind some of the more outrageous coincidences that I'd experienced over the previous year since my initiation into the club.

Ever since high school, I had adopted a regimen of running five miles every morning before breakfast and I admit to a certain compulsion when it came to this daily activity. However, I noted that more often than not this ritual was becoming more and more difficult as I seemed to be awakening with naked women in my bed. I had arrived in Paris on a red-eye flight from Dulles on Friday morning but had enjoyed the evening with Danielle, the Freyja club's Executive Director who had spent the night with me. On Saturday, I ended up with identical twins, Anita and Amelia, and had engaged in my first honest-to-god threesome. Last night it was Lily, and if my math was correct, I had awakened to four different women in my bed in only three days. For me, that was a record that was likely to never be broken.

I slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, so as not to awaken Lily and found my running gear, changed in the bathroom, and was on the street two minutes later. The village of Enghien-les-Bains is centered around a lake of the same name and it was a beautiful place to run. I figured that four laps around the lake were about five miles and I was soon into an easy aerobic pace. Perhaps it's just the fact that the exercise pumps a lot of blood to my brain, but I've discovered that I sometimes do my best thinking during these moments.

I'm a forty-eight-year-old bachelor that for reasons too numerous to mention ended up working for a company that twenty years ago put me in charge of their business development strategy. In a nutshell, I'm charged with finding compatible businesses all over the world to add to our portfolio and that's how I happened to find myself in Paris on this beautiful November morning.

Almost a year ago, I had been here for what I thought was the final negotiation to acquire our target company but they began making demands that were incompatible with our strategic goals, so it never happened. However, during the fight, I received a mysterious invitation to join something called the Freyja Club and that ended up changing the trajectory of my life.

As you might suppose, as a bachelor earning a nice mid-level six-figure salary, in good health, and with a world of experience, I've never really lacked feminine companionship. I've come close to making a life-long commitment a couple of times, but it would have meant that I would have to do something else. It was a dilemma. To get one thing I loved, I would have to give up something else I loved. Did I make the right decision? I will never know about the things on the road not taken, but as I rounded the lake for the last time, I knew in my heart that along the road that I did, I'd never been happier.

The weekend had been more than amazing, but Monday was going to be a workday. I'd arranged for the French accountants that we'd employed to meet me later in the morning, so I approached the hotel with a certain sadness that I would not be spending it with the beautiful Lily. I hadn't broken a sweat since the morning had been delightfully cool, so I didn't look like a total neer do well as I walked through the lobby and headed to the stairwell for the eight-flight finish to my run. As I entered my room, I could hear the shower running, so obviously Lily had awoken.

The bathroom door was still open and indeed she was in the shower. Like many hotels in Europe, shower stalls are open affairs with just low tiled walls to hold the water inside. I leaned against the door jamb and just admired the vistage of Lily washing her hair. I could see her in profile and her slim arms were raised with her hands busy lathering her blonde tresses. There's just something about looking at a naked woman who's unaware she's being watched. I regard those times as intimate moments and they never fail to arouse my desire.

From the side, I could fully appreciate the fullness of Lily's perfect breasts as they danced on her chest in time with her hand motions. Like most men, I find the jiggling of female flesh to summon up something deep within our psyche that sends electrical signals straight to my cock. I would have been happy to just continue to stand there and watch, but Lily must have seen some movement out of the corner of her eye and she stopped and looked in my direction.

In my immediate post-run dishevelment, I was aware that I didn't present nearly the vision that her nakedness did for me, but that didn't seem to bother her since I saw her face break out in a nice smile and she just said, "You need to get clean." Well, if that wasn't a blatant invitation, I didn't know what it would be, so I skinned out of my gear and joined her under the shower.

Lily immediately put her arms around my waist and I became aware of two critical points of contact. Her lips met mine with a nice semi-open-mouthed kiss with just enough tip-of-the-tongue play to communicate her happiness to see me, but short of a 'fuck me now' kiss. That would have been okay if that was her mood, but you might excuse my confusion when she widened her stance enough to capture my semi-erect penis between her smooth alabaster legs and squeezed it against her pussy lips. That was sending a decidedly different message to my brain and, for once, I didn't exactly know what to do.

I can only assume that my confusion was Lily's intent, so what was it? A nice episode of fondling and rubbing in the shower, or take me back to bed and fuck my brains out. Had I been a decade younger, the latter solution to the dilemma would have undoubtedly been my choice. However, I had made a trans-Atlantic flight, spent a wonderful night with Danielle who superbly emptied my sperm reservoir, then a tag-team match with the twins, and another ball-draining evening with Lily last night. I would have loved nothing more than to sink my cock into Lily, but I knew that nature was only so giving.

My cock felt wonderful grasped between Lily's thighs and my hands that had risen to fondle her not inconsequential breasts were also enjoying the feel of her soft soapy skin. I knew that I had more woman than I could handle, but I decided to make the best of it. To Lily's surprise, I pulled my cock from her embrace and pivoted her ninety degrees. With one hand around her back, I slipped the fingers of my free hand between her legs and into her slit. My 'fuck you' finger penetrated her vagina and pressed against the rough patch that I knew was her G-spot. Lily choked out a gasping moan as I hit pay dirt and her head fell back against my shoulder, I whispered in her ear that she should just enjoy the ride.

With the tip of one finger pressing against her G-spot and my thumb flicking her clit, it took Lily only about thirty seconds to reach a thunderous climax. I could feel her body jerk as waves of pleasure tumbled through her and she wailed, "Merveilleuse." Had I not been holding her, I wondered if she would have been able to stand, but I supported her for the next few minutes as spasm after spasm racked her. When she was done, she pivoted to a facing position and rested her forehead against my chest.

Lily was still gasping for air when I heard her ask, "Mon Deus, are you a demon, come to torment me?" I think my flip rejoinder was something like, "Mai oui, just put your soul in the collection jar by the door." Lily laughed and I pulled her under the still-hot spray, where we kissed and giggled like teenagers for the next two minutes.

Later, I treated her to breakfast in the top-floor restaurant, but treated wasn't exactly the right word. Her breakfast was a black coffee and vanilla yogurt. When I raised my eyebrows with a silent question, she reminded me that her 'work clothes' consisted of a tiara, heels, and a pair of earrings and that she tried hard to keep her body in top-notch condition. She told me that she was a regular runner too, and we should work out together. I told her that I thought we just did. For that, she kicked me under the table.

It seemed that neither of us wanted to part, but I informed her that I had to meet with my team at 10 a.m. For a moment she seemed disappointed, but quickly recovered and said, "I will fix you dinner tonight. My place. I will pick you up at seven." Her liquid blue eyes gazed into mine such that it would have been impossible to refuse.

The rest of my day was eventful in a non-eventful kind of way. I met with Vincent and Raul, the accountants that we had hired to help us evaluate and negotiate an acquisition of a privately held French firm, along with Raul who had previously worked there. We methodically plowed through the seven outstanding issues we had, the thorniest being the several business lines that we were uninterested in acquiring. The two options were straightforward; either just exclude them at the start, or make a full acquisition and peel them off later. Raul was charged with evaluating the trade-off and by four o'clock we were done for the day. I invited everyone up to the rooftop bar where we learned that the transit strike was over, so Paris was saved until the next one.

After a shower and shave I got dressed in casual slacks and a blue blazer and was standing outside talking to the Bell Captain with a bouquet of roses in my hand when Lily arrived at seven on the dot. Her Mercedes 450 SEL was one beautiful car with its 'Silver Ghost' paint job, but Lily was even more so. She wore a white blouse under a baby blue wool jacket with a matching skirt. It wasn't a mini-skirt from the 70s but it was short enough to reveal her perfect legs in a 'take your breath away' manner and while I couldn't be sure, it looked like she was probably braless.

"Es-tu prêt?" she asked. It was a mystery to me why Lily spoke to me in French sometimes when her English was impeccable, but she did. Fortunately, her question contained all of the words that resided in my limited French vocabulary, so I nodded and climbed in next to her. She squealed with delight when I gave her the roses, and I got a great kiss for my effort. Once buckled in, the first thing I noticed was the aroma of Chanel #5. Like wine, I'm not a perfume connoisseur, but over the years I've learned to identify some of the most popular, so much so that I've actually come to identify some of the women in my life with the perfume they always wear: Crystal Noir will always remind me of Jennifer and Passion is Karen to a tee. Now I had a persona for Chanel #5.

I watched with more than a degree of appreciation for Lily's skill as she drove through the teeth of Paris' notorious traffic. It appeared that the woman had eyes in the back of her head based on some of the lane changes she expertly maneuvered as we headed to her apartment in Epinay-sur-Seine. When we arrived, a valet took charge of the car and whisked it away to some unseen car park and Lily led me into a four-story brick building. The man behind the desk in the foyer glanced in our direction and I glanced back at him. He was clearly ex-military and the bulge under his jacket was a giveaway that security in this building was something that was taken very seriously. Lily led me to the elevators and we quickly emerged on the fourth floor.

Her apartment was nothing short of spectacular. I guessed that it was every bit of two thousand square feet with a balcony that looked out with an unobstructed view of the Seine River. Though it was dark, the river was illuminated by cleverly hidden lights in trees and shrubs along the river bank. As I said, spectacular! Lily let me gape for a moment while she found a vase for the roses. I was still watching the flow of the Seine when I felt her presence, and suddenly I found myself holding a cold glass of what I assumed was Pinot Noir. Lily came around to the railing and raised her glass. We toasted 'Sante' and the first sip of the wine was quickly followed with a sweet kiss.

When we returned inside, we adjourned to the kitchen where Lily quickly donned an apron and tended to something in the oven. I took a seat on a stool and just watched. "I hope you like Chicken Francese," Lily said over her shoulder. Actually, it was one of my favorite dishes and I like it in any of its various versions, but just to tease, I asked, "Capers or Parsley?" Lily stopped and glared at me. "Êtes-vous sérieux? Capers, of course." I laughed and just raised my glass in agreement with her choice.

The meal was one of the most delightful hours that I remember spending in a long time. I was amazed at how comfortable the two of us had become with each other in such a short time. Our conversation covered the proverbial waterfront. I was thrilled to learn about Lily's university years at the Sorbonne and how she and Danielle had met when Danielle ran the backroom operation at the law firm where she met and married Phillipe. Likewise, Lily seemed fascinated with my Army experiences, particularly in Vietnam. The food was long gone and we had also polished off the entire bottle of Pinot when Lily pushed herself away from the table and asked if I wanted to see the rest of her apartment. Indeed I did.

What would normally be the living room, dining room, and kitchen were essentially a single large area unencumbered by walls or partitions. The end wall was glass sliders that opened on the balcony. There was a stone fireplace with what appeared to be gas logs on one wall near two love seats set up facing each other over a low coffee table. A beautiful reproduction of Delacroix's "Liberty Leading the People," hung over the fireplace, and lights hidden in the soffits gave the space a sense of elegance.

Lily took my hand and led me down a short hallway. A door to the left opened into what looked like an office. There was a desk and one of the newest IBM desktop computers, another table stacked with books and pictures of people that I assumed were family. Directly across the hall was a large bath with a double sink, a glass-fronted walk-in shower, a toilet, a bidet, and a large two-person jacuzzi. But the piece de resistance was Lily's bedroom, from which I could hear soft romantic music playing.

There was another fireplace, a huge walk-in closet, two recliners facing the glass wall that looked out on the Seine, and a queen-sized brass bed with purple velour sheets and matching pillows. Perhaps the most striking item in the bedroom was a three-foot by four-foot oil portrait in a gilt frame that hung on the wall at the foot of the bed. It depicted Lily just as she appeared as a hostess at the club. She was posed facing to the left but with her head turned to face the observer. Of course, she was naked save her gold tiara and pearl earrings. Her perfect 36D breasts jutted from her chest proudly with pink engorged nipples. The artist had captured her blue eyes and I thought her smile was every bit the equivalent of the Mona Lisa.

I turned from the painting and looked at the flesh and blood Lily, then back to the painting, and back to Lily. I was lost for words. It was one of the most exquisite things I'd ever seen. Lily's beauty was overwhelming but no more so than the erotic experience that swept through my body. In no way could the painting be considered pornographic, but its understated sexuality hit me in a way that hardcore never achieved. Lily just watched my reaction and seemed pleased. "It was a gift from Danielle," she said. "It was my thirty-fifth birthday present."

"Wow," was the only word that seemed to fit, and I guess I just stood there in amazement. Lily cocked her head and then stepped forward and I suddenly found our arms had wrapped around each other's waists and Lily was nuzzling against my neck. "Does it excite you?" she asked as her free hand slipped across the front of my slacks to gauge for herself.

This was something I could relate to. The ambiance of Lily's apartment, her delicious meal, the wine, the music, the portrait, and now her curious hand were combining to push my desire into the stratosphere. I leaned forward and found her lips with mine. On first contact, she squeezed my cock and I found that perhaps we were both anxious to move to the next level, but I wanted to regain a sense of control so I stepped back and said, "Let me undress you." Lily's smile broadened and she responded, "Do with me as you please."

Lily had taken off her jacket when we arrived, so I reached behind her and found the zipper to her skirt. I breathed a silent thank you to Freyja when it smoothly opened and I pulled it off her hips and down her fabulous legs. Since she wasn't wearing nylons she was naked save for her blouse, panties, and heels. My roving hands had previously confirmed that she was braless, so the question was, what next?

Earlier I had confided in her that I had a minor fetish. I revealed that I often enjoyed looking at women who were naked below the waist but still clothed above. I couldn't explain why this "bottomless" look was so arousing, but it was. Perhaps Lily remembered, but she seemed unsurprised when I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties, and with a cute wiggle of her hips, I slid them down her smooth legs. This suddenly revealed the naked triangle of her pussy and when she kicked the panties off of her foot, it exposed the darker slit that ran between her legs. Lily stepped back to let me admire her exposure and laughed when she saw a visible bulge develop in my pants.

Bless her heart, Lily took the opportunity to just let me take in her semi-nakedness without pushing. Her slim waist merged with the curve of her hips to accentuate the "V" that was formed where her smooth legs met. It seemed that Lily was enjoying her exposure because she put her hands on her hips and pivoted them left and right displaying different views for my benefit. Once she spread them slightly which afforded a view of the gap between. I could see her watching my increasing erection as she toyed with me, and soon it became apparent that she was tiring of this and was wanting more.

Lily stepped forward and kneeled in front of me. Her hands reached for my belt. Once undone she unzipped my fly and slid her thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pulled down both my pants and shorts together. Her eyes widened when she first exposed my wiry pubic hair and shortly the top of my shaft. For some reason she stopped for a moment there, seemingly fascinated at the sight of the juncture where my penis emerged from my torso. She leaned forward enough to place her nose close and took a deep breath. "Oh mon Dieu," were the only words she uttered.

I know not what Lily was experiencing, but she resumed revealing me at an extremely slow pace, examining each inch as she continued to pull. Just before the end, she looked up and said in that confident tone that I'd come to understand was making a declarative statement, "Apprécier."

One last pull and I bounced in her face. She took a moment to survey what she had exposed as I kicked off my pants and without much fanfare, she opened her mouth and closed it over the head of my cock. I felt her tongue swipe over the surface and explore the small hole at the end. Looking up, our eyes met as she held me and I could see her wordless question. I said, "That's wonderful." Apparently having received the affirmation she was seeking she put her hands on my butt and pulled me forward. This filled her mouth and she sighed in satisfaction.

I was buried fully in her mouth and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to choke her, but Lily seemed to have the situation in control. She withdrew slightly and I could feel her tongue going to work again. I was too far in for her to do much except caress the shaft, but that felt great. Her lips were applying pressure, so between that and the warmth of her mouth, I was becoming quite erect. Glancing down, I saw that Lily's hand was rubbing her pussy as she worked on me.