Left Bank

I first saw her in the bar off the lobby of my hotel but couldn’t believe my eyes, thinking that it had to be a mistake, I mean here I was in a beautiful boutique hotel on the Left Bank in Paris and what was my ex-wife Anne doing here, of all places? I had just finished a week of business meetings in Germany and had a connecting flight through Paris so I decided to spend the weekend there and return Monday. Here it was Friday night and Anne was in the bar, alone. It had been at least 10 years since we spoke, although we both lived in the same city, in the same Upper West Side neighborhood and we never ran into each other. Was she re-married, was she still at the University, what was she doing here? I went up to the bar and sat down next to her and spoke as she turned around, Anne, long time.

“Red,” she immediately used my nickname, “I mean Nick… what, I haven’t seen… who, what are you doing here?”

She turned and kissed me affectionately on the lips and we embraced briefly.

I replied, “Buy you a drink, what is that, let me guess, still slurping your expensive scotch.”

I ordered two rounds and we moved to a private table in the back. Turns out she had just finished a week lecturing at a French University and had become quite well known in the time since we had split. We spent the next hour finishing off several more rounds, nibbling little corn snacks and catching up.

She looked at my ring and said, “You’ve re-married, someone I know?”

“No, but it’s better for me this time, I think we’re more suited for each other than you and I were at the time. No offense, Anne, you know I was madly in love with you and would’ve done anything at the time to save our marriage, but you were working so hard with your academics, conferences, papers, that crowd which I wasn’t part of…”

“I know, we went over all that years ago. Well, we all learn from our mistakes, and I’m in a better place now, I think.”

“How about you, no ring, children?”

She looked at me very intimately but somewhat hesitatingly said, “Red, I don’t know how to say it, I mean, well actually it’s no big deal, or at least it shouldn’t be but.. I’m with Kristin, a woman. I’m gay.”

I don’t know what was more of a shock, seeing her that moment in the bar for the first time, or hearing this news.

“Wow, and, I mean, how did it happen, what, who is she? What’s it like..” and I found myself beginning to ask all these embarrassingly personal questions of someone who for all intents and purposes was little more than a stranger.

But perhaps she fell as easily into our old intimacy as I did, for she answered calmly and explained without trying to make me feel uncomfortable. We were fairly tipped, which did make things a bit easier.

“I met her the year after I got my first position, the year after we divorced. I was too fucked up about us and all the pain and all, so I just dug in my work. She’s French, also a professor at the University; we actually met one day at a faculty get-together which was very stuffy and for some reason, I was pouring myself a glass of wine and her eyes caught mine and I’ll never forget that feeling, it was so compelling… I overfilled the glass and wine poured everywhere and one of the old deans looked at me with a glare and Kristin burst out laughing. We never even spoke as we left the party; it was about 6 p.m. We just walked down the street, I felt kind of magnetically drawn to her. I asked her name a few blocks later. We went straight to her small apartment and I just can’t explain it, maybe it was the space I was in then, it was so new and wonderful after the bad years you and I had been through…”

“Hey, it’s ok, I think that’s great, if you’re happy. You’re happy, aren’t you? I just never thought you’d be into that, I mean..”

“Yeah, I think I am happy now, we’ve been together almost 8 years and we really do love each other.” She’s here with me, though she’s gone out tonight with her family, they’re all from Paris. I just didn’t want to spend the evening with all the yelling and stumbling through my French… so I came to the bar and…well, here we are.”

She still looked great; slender, probably not having put on a single pound in a decade; firm tits under the cashmere black top, short chic black skirt. Dark brown long hair, halfway down her back, brown pretty eyes, delicate features, except, of course when she was kicking me out of my marriage, but let bygones be bygones. I immediately thought of her pink cunt, surrounded by the beautiful thick black hair, usually pungent and glistening. But now…? It was around 10 p.m. and I was hungry and suggested we find someplace for dinner.

“Listen, Red, I don’t know why I’m saying this, but let’s go up to my room, I’ve got some food there, I guess I just want some quiet place, I’ve been out all week.”

I said that was fine and certainly was curious what she was thinking of, but after all, she was gay now and her girlfriend was no doubt coming back soon. I was really horny and was trying to think of what I could do to sleep with her again, and here she was inviting me up to her room. She was 38 or 39 now, I calculated and looked really good still, now wearing chic black and low cut delicate shoes. She always dressed very well, even back when we were really poor and starting out.

We got in the elevator, she actually almost tripped getting in, she was a bit woozy; we were alone.

She pressed 8 and said, “What floor are you on?”

I told her I was on the 5th. We both faced the door, she in front of me. As the door closed and the elevator started to rise, she fell back against me and I instinctively put my arms around her and buried my face in her hair. I drank in her scent, still wonderful and a little musty. I remember her scent and her perfume so well. There was a hint of her sweat, not offensive, but smelling alive, and of course, alcohol. She moved her head around and we kissed as if we were the everlasting lovers we once thought we were, so long ago. We held that kiss until the 8th floor when the doors opened. She took my hand and led me down the corridor to her room, opened the door and we went in. She immediately threw her arms around me and resumed the kiss, this time her tongue reaching in my mouth, finding each of the crevices she once knew. I responded in kind, desperately trying to taste her mouth, her tongue, drink her saliva. She managed to get off my coat without breaking the kiss and tumbled us onto the bed. She now lay on top, me on my back.

We were on a big featherbed, the white down comforter pure against us; I could hardly wait to feel its softness against our naked skin. On the night table was a bottle of champagne in ice, unopened and a big bowl of fruit, strawberries, bananas, apples. Like my room, there were 10-foot high windows overlooking the busy Left Bank boulevards and the romantic city before us. I had heard Paris was for lovers, but this was truly unexpected, my Anne and me together again after all these years in a charged passionate embrace.

We kissed for another five minutes getting to know each other’s bodies again, feeling on top of and beneath clothing. She then got up and went to the champagne, opened the bottle with a pop, and poured two glasses. I did notice a few signs of Kristin, another set of shoes, two nighties flung over the back of the big sofa in the ante-room of the suite. I caught a glimpse of a red velvet box on the floor near the bed, which I only could imagine was filled with girl-to-girl love toys. I didn’t think it was the right time to ask Anne about the box.

She came back to the bed with the champagne and we toasted the night and drank. She put down her glass and removed her top and bra, revealing her beautiful, round, but not too large breasts, not saggy in the least, just delicious looking. She then helped me out of my shirt. I immediately went for her gorgeous tits. How could I get both at once? I just sucked and sucked and felt her nipples grow stiff, her breathing became more rapid.

“Oh, Red, I can’t believe this, you fucking man, ex-husband, whatever. What the fuck are you doing here?”

It was just as exciting as the first time we met and made love. I went back to tonguing her mouth, deep, trying to really get it in her throat and my hands were caressing her buns, so desirable, even under her skirt. Her hands were rubbing my chest and slowly moving down, she fumbled with my belt.

I got my hand under behind her skirt and under her panties and started inching to her crack. She stopped her belt fumbling and removed her skirt, leaving her panties. My hand was reaching toward her pussy and I knew it had to be getting a little wet by now. Here she was, almost completely naked but for her undies, back to working my belt loose, my pants were being pulled down. I helped her and got out of them. She very quickly just yanked my underpants off, leaving me naked and rigid.

She took my cock in both hands and caressed it while I worked my third finger into her now wet cunt. Her panties were getting in the way but I always liked getting panties drenched before removing them. I added my second finger and with the two was working her into quite a lather. I couldn’t take it any longer and moved to her crotch and ripped off her wet underwear. I put her on her back, head on a pillow and lay down in front of her, replacing my fingers in her snatch, moving them back and forth. She was wet and wider than I remembered. I took my fingers out and licked them, man they tasted good. I went back up to her head and kissed her deeply for a long time, sticking her cunt-smelling fingers in our mouths. She ate it up and licked longingly at my hand and my tongue.

I then went back down and just put my face in her crotch and licked her cunt ever so lightly.

She let out a gasp. “I warn you, this won’t be like your Kristin, so you’ll have to take what I can give you,”

She purred and responded, “I always remember how much you loved eating pussy, no man I ever knew ever enjoyed it as much as you.”

I worked my tongue into her gash, way inside and slithered along every edge, feeling each fold and tasting each flavor. I smelled each hair and took in the scent of her snatch, which hadn’t been washed all day. It was strong and truly magnificent. A little acidic, tart, salty, a bit of the famous sea-taste, and the aroma of passion just kept coming. She started bucking her hips as I found her clit and she grabbed my head and with some strength pulled me into her as far as I could go. She started breathing harder and began coming with big pelvic movements. The up and down motion of her hips caused my tongue to lick from her clit down to her asshole, which I hadn’t even touched yet. Soon the entire slit was gushing wet with my saliva and her newly developed cunt lubrication.

With my mouth fully engulfing her wonderful cunt, I felt her lovely rosebud and she moaned as I touched it. It was very wet so I inserted the tip of my third finger in her rectum. It gave very little resistance so I continued. Her bucking got stronger and in a few seconds, she was impaling her ass on my finger, now up to the second knuckle. My tongue on her clit, my finger up her ass, her hands on my hand pulling me up and down, She came hard and almost yelled. Her pussy released a gush of wetness, was it girl-cum, lubrication, or pee? I didn’t care, I just drank it up. Now I needed more of her. She continued to buck as she came and I slurped. Finally she slowed down and I stopped lapping her cunt. I looked at her eyes, now closed, her breathing was hard and I pulled my finger slowly from her butt. It felt tight. She moaned softly as it slid out quite wet.

She opened her eyes and said, “That was unbelievable, it’s been so long since I’ve been with a man. It’s so different.”

She sat up and took another sip of champagne.

She looked at me and said, “I have to tell you something. I never thought I’d ever sleep with a man again, let alone you, but I have to ask you to respect one thing between Kristin and me. Please don’t fuck me in my cunt. That’s for Kristin. I don’t think I could handle that. Will that be ok?

I responded by taking another sip of champagne myself. “I think between the two of us we’re creative enough to get around that, no?”

I then moved to kiss her and I deep tongued her, spilling some of my champagne down her throat. I wanted to get her beautiful cunt taste on her teeth. She was sucking my tongue, trying to remove its wetness. I pulled back, my cock now quite rigid and brushing against her pubes. She never shaved and it still was thick black hair down there, trapping the scents and tastes of the day. I took another swig of bubbles and started kissing her down her breasts, drooling the brut over her tits, down her tight tummy, and then spitting the rest of it right in her already drenched cunt. She jerked at the cold shock, but spread wide as I went in and drank it back, now a bit salty and briny. I raised by third finger to my nose to smell what her bum was like. A delicious earthy scent, close to cunt smell but a bit more dank. I definitely wanted more. As I once again plunged my face in her cunny, I slid my finger up to her face to test her, not knowing how she’d react, or even realize where that finger had been.

She quickly mouthed it and sucked it for a few moments. “Kristin loves sticking her fingers up my ass, don’t think you’re the first. I love the feeling, it makes me feel so full. Go ahead, gently. I’ve made it all wet.”

That’s all I needed. Wow. Who would’ve thought… I moved myself around, placing my head on the pillows at the head of the bed, and swiveled this monstrously beautiful ex-wife-turned-lesbo around so that her cunt was on my mouth, her mouth was above my cock, now bulging with anticipation, and her little brown bud was right off my nose. She immediately took my member in her mouth and started delicately licking the head, all around. Then I started feeling her long fingers toying with my balls, feeling them round and round, very lightly.

I couldn’t stand it. I plunged my nose in her rosey hole, so small and just breathed in. Dank, humid, and wonderful. As I began moving my tongue from her cunt toward her delightful asshole, she moved her hips, helping it along. At first, I circled rims around the tight ring, round and round, slowly moving toward the center, where I didn’t know what would await me. She stopped slobbering my cock and was just concentrating on these sensations I was causing her. Her moaning got more focused as my tongue touched the center, closed. I stuck it in gently and began moving it from side to side. The taste was a little bitter, a little sweet. There was a bit of cunt juice having flowed there. I pushed a little deeper and got up there, in her asshole. I was shaking with excitement. It tasted a little more bitter, now sweaty smelling, but unbelievable. Her hips really started swaying and I couldn’t understand this; I’d never heard of this type of cumming, my hand wasn’t even frigging her cunt.

“That’s incredible, it’s so sensitive… keep going,” she said.

I now was thrusting in her as deep as I could, her brown wrinkle began moving outward like a puckered lip. Out, then in, out, then in. My tongue was all the way in and I didn’t want to pull it out, how could I. Her asshole was now almost completely turned out around my tongue and it was bright pink; the inside was showing and I was tasting it. I immediately began to taste something very salty from her dear rectum. As her breathing began to take off again, she began pushing and a thick fluid began oozing down my tongue. It was slimy, briny again, but very bitter, with a definite flavor of shit. It was getting thicker and beginning to actually run. It was very warm but I didn’t want any to spill. I let myself swallow it as it came. Her anal lubricant, this salty mucus surrounded my tongue, and began flowing harder so it came out her asshole, filling my nose. I swear, there was this thick liquid flow coming from within her rose. She now was heaving and murmurring that she was coming.

Anne was having a true anal orgasm and ass-cumming in my mouth. She shook her hips violently and a gooey chunk of this fluid pushed my tongue out with a slight wet fart sound and found its way into my mouth. It was a slightly loose but solid piece of something carried in a long oozey strand of ass juice. I tasted the briny flavor, it had the consistency of ass snot, it was somewhat gooey. I was on the verge of just exploding now, but I didn’t want to waste it, since my cock wasn’t in any orifice just then. As she once again slowed her breathing down, I re-buried my mouth and tongue in her ass.

Her anus was still mostly turned out, glistening in the low bedlight, a warm pink with traces of brown fluid running from it, down her leg. She was now resting on her elbows, her mouth over my dick, her ass basically sitting on my face. This beautiful hole was flowing with wetness so I pulled my tongue out and stuck my third finger in, this time rapidly, all the way. She reacted with a grunt. I easily slid the index finger as well. I began to diddle her rectum with the two fingers, searching for, I don’t quite know what. I felt the walls tighten and pulse with my pushes.

Then, I began to feel the walls move away. I noticed a big empty chamber, like my fingers were on the inside of a balloon. Then as I was diddling away, the walls of her rectum, just a moment before having been tight against my fingers, moved away. I realized her bum was full of gas and if I yanked out my fingers, there would be a pop and who knows what.

“You know what I’ve got to do, don’t you,” She said sheepishly, almost apologetically, “move your head for a moment, I think I’ve got some gas.”

Always the well-bred girl, while her ex-husband just made her ass-cum, she couldn’t even fart in his presence.

“Go ahead, I’m not moving, I’m loving everything that’s coming out of you. I’m here for drinking everything you can possibly give me.”

And she wiggled her ass a little and through the space between my fingers and her rectum walls, a little gas, not smelly, wheezed out with more of the wet pre-shit ass snot. It had a shit scent, but so slight. I moved my nose closer and breathed it in deeply, not wishing to exhale. I then felt her butt insides once again. I pushed harder. Anne responded by pushing back and pretty soon I was thrusting these two fingers in and out, finger fucking her ass fairly hard. It still was really wet, and I think I felt a little more of that ass cum because it got wetter in there. So I added my fourth finger and had three fingers thrusting Anne’s asshole.

Her moans were between pleasure and pain, “Oh, oh, deeper, ouuuu, that’s big, go, go, go.”

She took my cock between her lips again and started tonguing the head again. I had to hold off, I kept telling myself. I fucked her in and out and her butthole got warmer and wetter and there was now a slurping sound every time my fingers came out toward the tip. She was working her way down my cock and licking heavily. Her hand left my extremely rigid mast and began working its way toward her neglected cunt. I should think having another cunt as a girlfriend kept her front hole well attended and it could afford the neglect. But Anne’s hand soon found her snatch and several fingers jammed inside herself very quickly. While sucking my bulging meat, she was going to bring herself off.

Her ass was getting the finger-fucking of a lifetime and it had already come in my mouth. It was fairly open when I removed my fingers. I kind of missed the taste of her insides. I began licking and sucking my fingers. They were covered with an amber coating of gel, smelled vaguely like back door droppings, but still a bit fishy. It tasted strictly horny. I cleaned them off.