Madam Faucheux.... when I think of our visits together, I immediately imagine the soft scent of the lavender she dapples on her neck which is covered with her thick, soft, red hair. To see her is to witness une femme qui est trés pret (a woman very ready) for divine acts of adoration and divine pleasures, as well. The smile she flashes to me is beautiful and seems to float in ether.
Her lips are soft to kiss.
Kissing her is to encounter art.
Then, of course, I always want to sample the charcuterie that she presents when she spreads her legs. The smell of her lightly perfumed cunt with its meaty labia hanging as though ripe fruit ready to be eaten. But my thoughts are getting way ahead of me.
I like to begin our feast kissing her. Her full lips adoringly brushing mine. Soft caresses inviting me to nibble her lower lip as she exhales the essence of mint leaf on her womanly breath. My tongue pushes slightly over my lip and its tip finds the softness of her own tongue. Here we are, tongues tip to tip and I sense her urging me to kiss with passion.
I push my lips against her's and Madame opens her mouth as though to consume me. Her minty saliva washes over my tongue and thus we begin our sexual feast.
Her luscious soft, warm tongue enters my mouth and retreats in a playful gesture that instantly stiffens solid my already aroused prick. Our lips lightly touch as I move my lower lip to softly nip at her upper.
Mmmmmm
I tug gently dragging my mouth across her cheek and down to her sweet neck where I can smell her subtle lavender perfume dancing together with the sweet musk of her body. My intention is to give Madame the kind of attention a woman of her status demands.
She is an heiress to a rubber fortune.
Her father was a financial wunderkind and son of a French actress. A blond knockout of a man with a thirst for adventure and empire building. Madame's mother was Vietnamese. A woman delicate yet voluptuous and who got what she wanted.
It's a powerful attitude and Madame most certainly inherited this trait.
Madame Faucheax has delicate facial features. Her eyes are intense blue and her hair red. A woman of medium stature at 1.76 meters, she has wide hips and a curvy, highly respectable ass as well as large nipples on the tips of smallish but full breasts that assert themselves easily through the delicate fabric of the clothing she likes to wear.
I often find myself in awe of her pear-shaped ass accented with dresses which drape in such a way as to follow her curves and, additionally, suggest the deep cleft of her derrière. She knows what this does to me and she's keen to encourage my fascination. My covetous affection towards Madame's two large, perfect globes and the moist, fragrant chasm that falls in between.
I admit, I do worship her ass. She need not dominate me too sternly when it comes to my adoration of her exceptional posterior. From this, I fiendishly covet a yearning to look at, feel and smell what she naturally displays. I want to experience her beautiful body.
Let me start with the globes of her ass that only slightly give into gravity. From the back of her muscular legs, each ass cheek rises gently but with pronounced emphasis that pushes her divine buttocks out from her back. Her hips are wide and the contour from the sides of her legs up to the narrow part of her hips create a curvature that can only be described as the artistic invocation to a sexual feast.
I am always keen to eat this wonderful creature who is Madame Faucheux.
Her main home is in the foothills of Nice where she has an expansive view of the Mediterranean Sea.
I live in a cottage on the estate although I'm able to take the liberty of enjoying any area of the grounds or mansion I care to visit. Madame has her private area where I'm reluctant to go unless explicitly invited. Although Madame has expressed to me that she likes it when I spontaneously visit, I try to make such visits only when Madame is in a receptive mood and thus am always inclined to ask the Houseman for news on Madame's state of mind before I make a serendipitous appearance before her lovely gaze.
There are times when Madame Faucheux sends for me. There are occasions when a servant is sent to find me in town. I have a standing music gig at a posh restaurant where I play solo piano or sometimes with a quartet. The servants know when I'm there.
A message will come delivered in an envelope lightly perfumed with her fragrance. There have been times when I've received a wrapped package that contains a personal item that exudes an intimate fragrance most assuredly gathered from Madame's genitalia. Black or pink lace panties that she, no doubt, wore during the day which carry the unmistakably essence of her remarkable cunt. In this way, she lets me know she's in heat.
I sniff at her panties. The middle panel that covered her crotch is pink silk stained by her syrupy juice. I can smell her light perfume mixed with the heady tones of tart urine, sweet sweat, and a strong odor of sweet earthy musk of her cleft. At this moment, I'm under her spell.
One more set for the evening then I'll go to the Heiress's suite. Passion surges through my body. Just before I go back out to play music, I push the delicate jelly that's on the crotch of her panties into my nose. Her essence now is in a place where it can't be ignored and I use the energy of my arousal to play an impassioned performance. Soon, I will be comfortably between Madame's legs and enveloped by the enchanting fragrance of her bedroom, her body, and the flesh of her pussy.
The night itself is warm and fragrant on this clear evening early in June. A light scent from the Mediterranean is carried by a soft breeze that somehow makes its way up the hill and mixes with the high-pitched aroma of the many rose bushes that line a pathway towards the entrance to her suite. Although the sun has set, there remains a glow in the sky that dimly illuminates the walls of the Mansion. A window at the top emits a lavender glow over the balcony of Madame's room.
I let myself in and walk gently up the stairs to the entrance of her suite. The door is open and I can see the purple light dotted with reds and yellows glowing from the shade of a Hoffmann lamp.
The beautiful Faucheux is reclining while reading on her couch at the end of the room just under the light. She wears a white gown that drapes her shoulders but is open. Her breasts are visible in the soft light of the lamp.
"Andre, I need your company tonight" she says in a sultry voice without looking up.
The lavender light shown on the back of her hair and on the shoulders of her white, silk gown.
Her nipples are erect and appear to offer themselves to me. The fragrance in the room is a mixture of fresh roses from the garden, subtle lavender oil that she dabbles here and there as well as the essence of Madame herself. I walked around behind the couch and stroke her wild hair. The tips of my fingers find her ears which I touch and as I touch them, Madame purrs asking if I intend to fuck her.
"Lillian, I want to kiss you all over. I want to smell your hair and neck and the essence between your beautiful legs."
I moved to hold her as I kissed her cheek.
"I want to hold your lovely waist while I kiss and smell your goddess ass. And, yes, Lillian, I will fuck you and make love to you in a way that only you can appreciate."
