Junior Year Abroad

This is Part 11 of the

Survivor Revival Challenge

,

organized by Tara Cox. This is the story of Jim & Marybeth, and eventually others, of course. This might be my last installment.

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The conclusion of the saga of Jim & Marybeth, & their friends

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Marybeth wore comfortable clothes to travel in. She met Jerome at the Gare de l'Est in the early afternoon. They took a slow train to Reims, which takes around 90 minutes. They talked the entire train trip. By the time they got to Reims, they knew a lot about each other.

At Reims, they stayed at La Demeure des Sacres, an amazingly charming hotel. If Jerome was trying to seduce Marybeth, he was off to a great start. Jerome could see it in her eyes. After the previous night, when despite her claims to the contrary, Marybeth had let Jerome do anything and everything to and with her, with the exception of copulation, he figured tonight it would be one step better. He had been thinking about little else than laying this fabulous sexpot of a woman.

When Marybeth dressed for dinner, Jerome almost lost it when he saw her. Claire had really outdone herself! Granted, she had excellent raw material, but somehow Claire had found the clothes that accented all the best features of Marybeth, and at least in the mind of Jerome, there were a lot of those: breasts, ass, tiny waist, flat tummy, legs, and - most of all - her pretty face.

Claire had even taken the trouble to have Marybeth get her hair done at the Dessange beauty salon just off the Champs Elysées. Marybeth looked ravishing. Jerome, however, did his best to play it cool, and he acted like a proper gentleman, even if Marybeth herself had given him the best blowjob of his 39 years of life, just the night before.

The two arrived at the restaurant right on time, their reservation being for 8PM. They arrived by taxi from the hotel, as the restaurant was a bit out of town, and their hotel was in the center of town, within a stone's throw of the cathedral, Notre Dame de Reims. The cathedral, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, was traditionally where the kings of France were crowned, back when there were kings of France. Marybeth wanted immediately to see it, but Jerome had had other ideas. They had kissed and made out for some time, while Marybeth was constantly thinking about seeing the cathedral. Then they had dressed for dinner, each in their own room.

As the taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant, a man literally ran from the restaurant down the long walk to get to Marybeth's door of the taxi to open it for her. Marybeth felt elegant in her work-of-art dress, and her heels. Her heels were high enough to be high heels, but low enough so that she could easily walk in them.

Marybeth's father was only 22 years older than Marybeth; he had knocked up her mother and they had enjoyed a hastily arranged marriage. Marybeth's mother was only 17 when she gave birth to her. Therefore, Jerome was only a few years younger than her father, who was 42, while Jerome was 39. Marybeth wondered if that was why she was so attracted to older men? She hoped not. She hoped it was just because they had money, power, a certain elegance that comes with age, and most of all knowledge. They were suave, and wise to the ways of the world. She liked those traits in a man.

Jim had spirit and youthful exuberance. Marybeth loved Jim, everything about him, but especially how kinky he was as regards sex. Jerome was not kinky. He was a straight as an arrow, conventional man. His one kink was that he was a dominant. For a natural submissive like Marybeth, this was both a welcome and a dangerous fact. She knew Jerome would have control over her. He already did.

A pretty woman, in a drop-dead gorgeous outfit, with brilliant colors (probably by Kenzo, Marybeth thought) greeted then at the door, asked their name, knew without checking that they had a reservation, and ushered them to their table. In heavily accented English she asked if they would like a drink before dinner? She suggested their special welcome cocktail, which was (of course, since they were in the heart of champagne county) a glass of champagne mixed with some peach liquor, served with special, little, savory, 'amuse-gueules.'

Before Marybeth could even taste one of the amuse-gueules, which Jerome called amuse-bouches, because it was easier to pronounce, she had to look at them and give Jerome her opinion on their appearance. She realized the entire evening was going to be like that: Jerome took his job seriously.

"This is supposed to look like a romantic date between lovers. You're supposed to be trying to get inside my panties," Marybeth remarked, in a whisper, to Jerome.

"I am, believe me. I hope I do. It's just that I have a job to do, too," he said.

Marybeth gave her opinion on the appearance and display of the amuse-bouches, and then she popped one in her mouth and had a dainty, feminine sip of the welcome cocktail. The two lovebirds talked about Reims and Jerome mansplained the history of the cathedral. Marybeth already knew its history, but like a good little submissive, she pretended to be fascinated by Jerome's knowledge, even if he got a few details wrong. She didn't correct him, she just enjoyed his attempts to look down her dress as he talked.

When it came time to order, as they had agreed, they both ordered the extensive tasting menu, which looked to Marybeth as if it might be enough food to feed a family of four, for a week. Jerome explained to her she only had to taste each course; she didn't have to finish them. At each stage, starter, main dish, pause and "le trou Normande," and then salad, cheese, and dessert, there were choices, and whatever Marybeth chose, Jerome chose something different.

A few minutes before the starters began, about a half hour after Jerome and Marybeth arrived, two women walked in, holding hands. Everyone looked at them, and not just because they were both gorgeous and sexy, but because they were obviously lovers. They were seated two tables away from Jerome and Marybeth. In between them were two young American businessmen, apparently wine importers for New York State, and also for Massachusetts.

The two men looked over the two women carefully, checking them out in shameless detail, and Marybeth overheard one of the men say, "Such a pity. Why is it that such gorgeous women waste themselves on other women?"

His dinner companion said, "Take a look at the beauty with her Sugardaddy at two o'clock, you moron." He gestured with his head directly at Marybeth, who blushed. She wasn't supposed to hear that. This being a super fancy restaurant, the tables were not close to each other. Marybeth had always been blessed, however - or was it a curse? - with bionic hearing. Nobody on earth could out-eavesdrop Marybeth!

So that's what they think? They think Jerome is my Sugardaddy? Marybeth thought to herself. Hey, that's a kink she'd never even thought about before. She smiled, a private, little smile, not enough for Jerome to pay attention to it. She'd learned, again from eavesdropping, that both men were in their mid-twenties, and they were Mark and Dylan. Mark was the New Yorker, and Dylan was the guy from Boston.

Marybeth continued to eavesdrop on the two men, especially when they were discussing "the two babes" sitting at the neighboring table, namely Claire and Susie.

"Those two men at the table next to us are ogling Claire and Susie," Marybeth whispered to Jerome.

"Susie, maybe. It must be obvious Claire is a lesbian," Jerome said.

"I think Claire is bisexual, like Susie," Marybeth replied.

Jerome didn't answer, because just then more food arrived. Marybeth realized she should have paced herself better. She was already full, and she had the main course, the salad, the cheeses, the "trou Normande," dessert, coffee, and cognac still to go! She really didn't want to explode from all the food. The problem was it all looked so good, and it also tasted so good, she felt compelled to eat everything!

At the end, an overstuffed Marybeth, and a (very) well fed Jerome, waddled out of the restaurant to their waiting taxi. It was raining (of course) but for the walkway to the taxi, the restaurant's doorman held open a huge umbrella, sheltering both of them, while he got wet. Marybeth was impressed; anyone would be.

Back at the hotel, the two overstuffed Americans collapsed into armchairs in the hotel bar. Jerome ordered a Bas Armagnac, and Marybeth ordered a bubbly water. She hoped, since it had bubbles, maybe it would be like Alka-Seltzer? Soon Claire and Susie joined them at the bar, and shortly later the two American men did, too.

One thing led to another, and soon Susie, Marybeth, Dylan, and Mark, were all discussing college sports. Jerome wasn't interested in college sports; he wanted to autopsy the meal they all had just had. Claire knew nothing about American college football and basketball, so she was happy talking to Jerome.

The idea that Claire might be bisexual, and not a die-hard lesbian, had taken root in Jerome's mind, especially because Claire looked both pretty and sexy. Also, both Marybeth and Susie seemed infatuated with the two younger men. So Claire and Jerome became lost in their own conversation.

The four Americans in their twenties got noisy, and at one point, Claire decided to retire to her room. Jerome escorted her there, and to his surprise, Claire invited him in. Marybeth and Susie didn't even notice that they had left, until finally, when the hotel bar closed at 2AM, they looked around and noticed Jerome and Claire had left.

"Did your Sugardaddy abandon you?" Dylan asked, and ordinarily Marybeth would have slapped him; but he said it innocently, and it was so obvious he liked her, that she let it go.

"Apparently, he and Claire left earlier," she replied. She saw Dylan's eyes light up when she said that.

Mark was a little smoother, saying, "It appears your dining companion has turned in, too?" as he looked at Susie. Susie gave him her best come hither smile when he said that.

"Hey, if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with," Mark said. Susie just smiled.

There were three floors in the small hotel, but everyone seemed to be on the third floor. They walked by Claire's room and Marybeth suddenly stopped. She put her ear to the door and distinctly heard soft moans that absolutely had to be those of Claire. She made the Shh symbol with her fingers and mouth, and beckoned Susie over. Susie looked through the keyhole, which you could do in this charmingly old fashioned room. She turned away, smiling broadly.

She beckoned the three of them to follow her, and they all piled into Susie's room. With the door closed, she whispered, "Jerome and Claire are getting it on. Marybeth, I don't think you nor I are getting any sex tonight."

Dylan then piped up, "Don't be hasty now, little Susie. The evening is still young."

"It's 2AM," Susie said.

Mark began to sing, "Wake up, Little Susie," the 1950s era song of the Everly Brothers. Dylan put his arms about Susie and began to dance with her, to the tune of Mark's singing. Marybeth then took out her iPhone from her purse, and chose one of her playlists. All four of them began to dance, Mark with Susie, then Mark with Marybeth, while Dylan danced with the woman Mark was not dancing with, at the time.

If you asked Marybeth how it happened, or when it happened, in all honesty she wouldn't have been able to tell you, but at some point the kissing began. Marybeth and Mark were kissing, while Susie and Dylan were kissing, and then the men swapped. Marybeth and Dylan, and Susie and Mark; all were kissing. It was fun. Female giggling was a constant, seductive sound throughout the kissing and dancing.

They were in Susie's room, so at one point she excused herself, went to the room's bathroom, and emerged later, having 'slipped into something more comfortable.' It also gave the men easier access to her body, should they want it. Marybeth thought she should do the same, but the two men begged her not to leave, even if only to change clothes and then come right back.

"Can't you just remove your dress?" Dylan asked.

"And dance in my underwear? I don't think so. No, thank you," Marybeth replied, although she wasn't angry. More like she was amused.

"A bra and panties? It's like a two piece bathing suit. More modest than a bikini," Mark said, giving Marybeth the classic line. "I'm sure Susie will strip to her underwear too, to keep you company."

"My lingerie is not like a bathing suit. It's late at night, we're all drunk, and we're in a hotel room somewhere in France. Plus, my underwear is lace, and skimpy," Marybeth said. "It might be skimpier than a bikini, even."

"You're my kind of woman!" Dylan said. "Here, let me help. You help Susie," he added, addressing Mark. He unzipped Marybeth's gorgeous dress, that fit her like a second skin.

"You'll ruin the dress. Let me take it off. It's very expensive, and delicate, too," Marybeth said. Dylan backed away from her, holding his hands in the air, and smiled broadly, kind of like a cat about to pounce on the canary. He didn't care; he was goal focused, and getting Marybeth's dress off was step one towards his goal.

Both Marybeth and Susie were now dancing in their underwear, taking frequent breaks for kissing, and being passed from one of the men to the other. Marybeth liked that nobody was pairing off. It made her feel just a wee bit safer, and she was feeling pretty damn vulnerable right about then.

After around a half hour of this, Susie sat down on the room's couch. "I need a break. I think my body wants to digest the mountain of food I ate. It all tasted so good, and looked so appealing, I just kept eating, and eating, and eating."

"Me too," Mark said, and he plopped down next to Susie. There was also an armchair in the room. Dylan offered it to Marybeth, but she insisted he take it, and she sat, Indian style, on the floor, her back as straight as a board. She didn't realize it, Dylan guessed, but her panties gave her precious little modesty when she sat Indian style. Dylan was naive: Marybeth knew exactly what she was doing, and what she was showing. She always did.

Finally, they talked about the meal. Dylan suggested that at the end of the meal, they should have offered some Alka Seltzer. I wish Jerome were here to listen to us, Marybeth thought to herself. Susie thought of Claire, as Mark continued to kiss her.

So, Claire is finally getting it on with Jerome? Susie secretly know Claire had a thing for Jerome, and she was happy for her. She had been hoping for some raunchy super-hot lesbian sex, but she felt happy for Claire, and anyway, Mark seemed quite interested, now didn't he?

Susie let Mark take her bra off, and her boobs popped out to delight the six eyes of Mark, Dylan, and yes, Marybeth. Mark took advantage of his location, and he began to lovingly fondle Susie's boobs while he kissed her. Susie had only rarely had sex in front of an audience, the two times being publicly fucked in bars/clubs being the major exceptions, but those times had been so public, so very public, that she felt it was different than it was in this intimate setting.

Susie felt self-conscious having her boobs out for all to see, and now clothed only in panties, but she had to admit she was turned on, and really enjoying Mark's gentle and sweet caresses of her boobs. Susie was proud of her boobs; she felt they were her best feature.

Dylan looked over at Marybeth, who was peacefully sitting Indian style on the floor. She looked delectable, and he hoped he could live up to whatever standard she was used to, with her Sugardaddy, who was off fucking the dyke, of all people! Marybeth was watching the Mark and Susie show, and Dylan, looking closely, saw a small wet spot on her panties! So, was the lovely Marybeth was getting aroused? It was time to act!

"Marybeth, come over here, will you, please?" Dylan said, trying and failing to sound all innocent.

Marybeth rose, knowing exactly what Dylan wanted, and she walked over to him and stood next to him. "I'm tired. Do you mind if I sit on the arm of your chair?" she said.

Dylan was enthusiastic, and Marybeth took her seat on the arm. Shortly later, Dylan pulled her onto his lap, to Marybeth's giggles and delight. Marybeth squirmed around, ostensibly to get comfortable, but in reality, to give Dylan an impromptu lap dance. Dylan got hard as a rock, and Marybeth, who had been spoiled by Jim's big cock and Denis' monster cock, and not Eric's size but the familiarity of his longstanding love for her, discovered that she had lucked out once again, with the handsome wine merchant known as Dylan.

However, Marybeth began to question herself. What the fuck was she doing? She knew Jerome had wanted to spend the night with her, and she was still undecided if she was going to do the deed with him, she had just dumped her essentially life-long fiancé, and she had a boyfriend she was hopelessly in love with, namely Jim. What was she doing, thinking of having a one-night stand with a guy she had known for what? A couple of hours? Was not her life complicated enough, without these two rakes trying to score with the two bimbos, namely Susie and herself?

As Marybeth was having these self-doubts, Susie's phone dinged. Susie's good friend April was on the field trip with Jim. "News about Jim, Marybeth!" she called out, trying to read the text, while holding onto her panties as Mark continuously tried to pull them off her.

"Well?" Marybeth asked. Marybeth had gone still, ending the lap dance, and Dylan was smart enough to let her sit there, his naked cock (which somehow had left the confines of his pants) nestled between Marybeth's ass cheeks, up against her panties. Marybeth was wearing genuine bikini panties, not a thong.

"I'm reading!" Susie said, as she slapped away Mark's one-track minded hand, constantly pulling at her panties.

"Your boyfriend Jim laid Alexa the first night, and then Michelle the second night, and now the two girls won't speak to each other, and everyone's mad at Jim," she said.

Some boyfriend! Marybeth thought. "You have a boyfriend and a Sugardaddy, both? Oh, honey, you're something else!" Dylan said, and he quickly, and expertly, removed Marybeth's bra while she was still in shock over Susie's text, giving the 'Jim Report.'

"You'd better believe it, you wine merchant, you," Marybeth said, and she stood up and removed her panties, too. "Game on! Who wants me?"

In a sneak attack, Mark used both hands, overpowering Susie's hands, and off came her panties, to her delicious giggles as they left her body. Seeing Marybeth's reaction, Susie was going to match her, blow for blow.

Dylan stood and led Marybeth to the bed. "How conventional of you," she said, and he threw her down onto the bed, spread her legs, and got on top of her, his cock falling almost automatically at her entrance. It was a practiced move. This man had laid many a slut before me, Marybeth thought to herself.

Dylan pulled Marybeth's legs up onto his shoulders, and he wasted no time. Evidently, Dylan was a man of action. Boom, his cock was balls deep inside Marybeth! Luckily, she was already wet. "If Jim laid two, then I want three!" Marybeth said, to nobody in particular, but her words were certainly noticed by Mark, who was still in the midst of seducing Susie.

"Move over, Dylan. You're hogging the bed," Mark said, as he tossed Susie onto the bed right next to Marybeth, once Dylan had dragged Marybeth off the center of the bed. Marybeth was truly enjoying the way Dylan was fucking her with his big cock, and as is typical of the wench that is Marybeth, she was not shy about letting him know (and

a fortiori

Susie and Mark) what she thought of his fucking technique.