Gail Prefers Peter

Only the start of our fourth day in Antibes and already I was tempted to cancel our plans for Monte Carlo and stay here. Gail was having all the fun, or most of it, however she insisted we keep to our original plan.

If you haven’t read our first posting then I’ll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. I’m 5’10, just turned 31, brown hair and eyes and in reasonably trim shape. I met my wife while in university and we are married seven years now. Gail is exceptionally beautiful, very shy which belies her intelligence, and soft spoken. She is 5’7” with a young girls figure at 29, small hips, long very shapely legs, small breasted, a picture perfect behind, light brown hair that blondes in the sun and lovely green eyes.

Our daily rhythm after only four days in the hotel was to breakfast on the hotel patio overlooking the Mediterranean. Today Gail asked,

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we spent the day alone, just the two of us?

I responded. “What do we do with our friends at the pool, chase them away?

Gail ignored my question, “Why don’t we spend the day sightseeing, walking around Antibes.”

So after breakfast I donned shorts and Gail a short skirt, loaded our camera and went into Antibes. Walking through the outdoor market was our first adventure. Every imaginable fruit and vegetable, cheeses, olives, round and baguette French bread, wines, it was simply a culinary delight. Then the city beach already partly full of topless tourists and the yacht basin loaded with the most magnificent array of boats of every color and size from sailing schooners to motor yachts, many with cars on board, some with helicopters.

We walked along the wall separating the city from the yacht basin. At first Gail was not aware that sailors on the docks below - and along the inner wall - could see up her skirt when they looked up. When she finally took notice, she started to walk more slowly and stood still from time to time, legs more apart then usual. But always as if she were sightseeing and oblivious to the fact that they could probably see her panties. She looked at me from time to time, a slight knowing smile, confident she was turning me on as well, but never saying so or referring to it.

Our friends often said that Gail was too reserved. These past days had helped me to understand that Gail, though exceptionally shy, was less restrained when we were with strangers.

We lunched on oven baked pizza, had dessert at a stand selling freshly made crepes with ice cream, took hundreds of pictures – even a few racy ones of Gail, when there were no passers-by.

By afternoon end, tired of walking, we hailed a taxi back to Cap d’Antibes. We entered our hotel and went straight to the lobby bar, ordered two white wine spritzers and, drinks in hand, walked out of the lobby and down the walk toward the tennis courts and the cabanas. Some guests at the hotel had a room as well as a cabana and we walked down to the cabana area with an overview of the Mediterranean.

We stopped at a bench that was set back some thirty feet from the bluff and nestled among trees overlooking the sea. This section of the Cap extended beyond the common shoreline so we were looking up toward the town of Antibes and across a section of the sea. We sat together holding hands barley speaking; it was indeed a lovely sight to behold.

For dinner we decided to continue our solo exploring and we headed for a simple but renowned fish soup (bouillabaisse) restaurant between Juan le Pins and Cannes. We arrived at 8PM and at 8:30 we were still in line waiting for a table along with a long line of guests. Every time the maitre de came to the entrance area he would say, “table for four, step forward…” and we continued to wait. We were starting to think we would not get in when a young woman approached me from behind and spoke to me in French.

“I’m sorry”, I said, “I don’t speak French”

“Oh” she replied, and in perfect English said, “I was asking if you would like to join us in saying we are a table for four? We’ve been here twenty minutes, they keep passing us.”

Gail looked at me and we both answered simultaneously, “Yes, we would.”

In minutes we were seated with Françoise and Roger her husband, which she pronounced ‘Row-jer’. Introductions were made with Françoise translating for Roger who spoke no English. Françoise was a naturally pretty girl, about 5’9 brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She wore no makeup, no brassiere I was pleased to notice, and under her thin clinging dress I could imagine a lithe and perfectly proportioned body. Roger on the other hand was like a marble statue, tall, agile looking, with shoulder length hair and almost perfect features. He was handsome in a very natural way, and continuously smiling. You had to like him. He would chatter to Françoise in French, she would laugh, and then try to translate. The dinner was relaxed and fun.

We drank an extra bottle of wine and left at the same time. When we asked the restaurant to call a taxi Françoise insisted we let them drive us to the hotel. When they asked where we were staying I replied “Hotel du Cap.” Roger said, shaking his hand, “Hotel du Cap… ou la la.”

Françoise asked, “Is it beautiful inside? We’ve never been...”

Gail suggested, “Please come in and let’s have a nightcap,” and twenty minutes later we were all seated in the hotel bar. We took a table near the piano and ordered drinks. By the time we had ordered our third drink, we had danced, Roger with Gail and Françoise and I. Both girls were relaxed and Roger and I were enjoying looking at each other’s wife. Françoise had wrapped herself around me while we danced and I could feel her breasts and even her mons as she pressed against me while dancing. Roger was just as snug with Gail and at one point when I looked at them in a dark corner of the dance floor; I thought I saw his hand move across her behind cheeks.

“Is it after midnight? Françoise said, “I have to make a call to my home. I have a sitter with my daughter.” She asked Roger for the car keys to get their cell. Instead of his going to get the cell for her he simply passed her the keys. Some minutes after Françoise stepped outside, Gail rose holding Rogers hand and said,

“I’ll show Roger the patio and pool area”, and they left, heading for the lobby door that opened to the pool area.

It didn’t dawn on me at the time to ask if, and how, he had conveyed his interest to see the pool.

Ten minutes passed. Françoise returned and said, “I can’t find our cell. Where is Roger?”

“Gail is showing him the pool and patio area.” I said.

Françoise seemed unconcerned and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I am going to see if we left our cell in the restaurant.”

I rose with her and headed for the rest room as she entranced the hotel. When I returned, no one was back at the table so I headed out the lobby door toward the pool. A few couples were sitting at tables but no Gail and Roger. I turned to walk back then opted to turn right and walk toward the cabanas.

As I rounded the curve in the walkway I saw Gail and Roger sitting on the same bench we had been enjoying that afternoon. Roger was sitting normally and Gail was sitting straddled over his legs facing him. I was about forty feet away and partially covered so they could not see me. I couldn’t believe the scene. Gail’s skirt had risen up on the side so that I could see her bare thighs resting on his legs. He had his pants on but it looked to me like his pants had been lowered. It was hard to tell because of poor light, and Gail’s skirt covering their front. Gail had one hand on his shoulder and the other between them, and he had his hands on her waist his head tilted back slightly. Gail was moving, more like leaning back a bit then rising ever so slightly and sliding forward. I watched for a few moments and felt jealous and angry, I couldn’t swallow. But I also found it erotic beyond description.

I moved closer. They didn’t see me until I was twenty feet away. Roger noticed me first and stiffened though I noted he was also smiling. Gail sensed his tension then turned and saw me. I was now about fifteen feet away.

While looking at me she moved slightly forward then said in an unaffected tone,

“Hi Ri…” and, when I didn’t respond, “I’m enjoying teasing Roger while he looks over at Antibes.”

I was totally taken aback with the scene and their reaction, but I mustered enough control to question her and asked, “Gail, are you…” pausing a moment to find the words, “are you hooked up?” I don’t know why I didn’t have the courage to simply ask if she were fucking.

It took her a second to realize what I was saying, and then she responded,

“Oh Ri, don’t be silly Honey, we’ll be back in a minute.”

Gail didn’t move she stared at me waiting for me to leave. They were both staring at me. Not knowing how to react I simply said,

“Sure Honey, we’re in the bar”, and I left. As I walked back I thought that she was surely fucking him. His cock was probably buried in her while we were talking because when she had first turned and saw me I noticed her slide a little forward as if to have him hidden fully in her. My groin tingled, I should have insisted to stay.

I waited in the bar alone for a good ten minutes until Françoise returned. Again she asked for Roger and I said they were just outside and that I had been with them. She rose from the table, walked to the bar and asked the barman for a pencil and paper. When she returned she gave me a piece of paper and said, please call me tomorrow at this number at about 1PM,” then she added smiling, If you’d like to.” Moments later Gail and Roger appeared looking as nonchalant as could be. I thought Gail’s eyes looked tired.

We bid Françoise and Roger goodbye at the elevators and returned to our room without speaking. I had made up my mind to act like I didn’t care. Gail started first, but with a mischievous smile,

“Were you checking on me Honey?

“More or less” I replied not looking at her, “you were gone quite a while”.

“Nothing to worry about my dear, you’re my great love.” She was undressing while she spoke. When her dress was over her face I glanced and noticed her underpants were bunched up between her legs and wet.

I said, “It sure looked to me like I had competition.”

“I was just teasing him, like the way you and Françoise were playing on the dance floor.”

“Gail, we were dancing, I didn’t have my cock in Françoise’s pussy.” I angrily replied

“Rian” she said questioningly, “Do you really think Roger had his cock in my pussy…out there?

“It sure looked like it.”

“Wow Ri, that you can even think that, surprises me, ” then smiling trying to defuse the tension, she added, “That would have been hot if I had.” I couldn’t believe this was my shy reserved wife speaking.

“Come on Gail, don’t play me the fool. He had his cock in your pussy even while we were speaking, didn’t he?”

She looked at me questioningly, “I’m not stupid you know Ri, If he had, I just would have stopped when I saw you coming, now wouldn’t I?”

“Gail, if you had stopped you would have had to raise up and I would have seen his cock slide out of you.”

Gail still smiling feigning control said, “No Ri, not so, but what an imagination you have Honey.”

“Would you still say it is imagination if I ran my finger in your pussy now and found you full of come.”

She replied, “Yes it would, because I’m not wet there”

“So you’re willing to let me try?

“No Ri, because I think it’s silly.”

“OK Gail, it’s your call. Let me tell you what I know before you say anything. I thought our relationship thrived on honesty. I think you are boldly lying in spite of my being there and seeing. I will react accordingly.” With that I walked onto the balcony and closed the doors. Gail was perturbed, she saw that I was dead serious, and she was aware she had lost control.

I was sitting in the chair on the balcony and noticed Gail enter the bathroom. The lights on the next balcony came on; our friends Andrew and Charlene were back. I stood and went as far out as possible and looked in their patio doors. I could see part of the bed. A few minutes later Gail opened our balcony doors and came out. She was wearing her short nightshirt and I could see the bottom of her vagina.

“We aren’t going to fight or spoil our holiday over this, are we?” She said quietly.

“I intend to have a good holiday”, I replied.

“With me…included?”

I didn’t answer.

“Rian, if you really doubt me, touch me,” and she moved towards me, “put your finger in me, check.”

“Once again Gail, you are jerking me about, you cleaned up, didn’t you?”

“There was nothing to clean.”

Gail stopped talking. She noticed the next balcony door and saw that she could see part of the bed.

“Did you see this? “ She asked.

“Yes”, I answered, “Charlene is fucking herself, and he’s jerking off… I think”. I was bluffing, I hadn’t even looked to see what they were doing.

“Go to the outside edge”, I said. “You’ll see more.”

Gail stopped to look at me for a long while, not saying anything. I could well imagine the thoughts running through her head and I hoped they were making her uncomfortable.

For the first night since we started our holiday, we did not make love.

Next morning we breakfasted in the outdoor part of the hotel restaurant. I paid undue attention to the Herald Tribune, but managed to act courteous, even to engage in trivia talk with Gail. At the pool our friends Karl and Andrew paid much attention to Gail but I could see she was preoccupied. Just before 1PM several of us agreed to lunch together. I excused my self to go back to our room, ostensibly to use the toilet, and I called Françoise. She invited me to join her at 3:30 in a small pub in Antibes. I accepted.

I sat in the room thinking and lost track of time. Gail came walking in looking upset. She looked around the room first then seemingly changed her attitude.

She asked. ”What’s wrong? Why are you sitting here? I’ve been waiting half an hour.”

I excused myself to her and we headed back to the dining area for lunch. In the elevator I found out what was really bothering Gail. It seems Charlene had disappeared again and Gail thought she was with me.

At 3:00 0’clock I simply said to Gail, “I’ll be back”. I went upstairs, changed, and went to meet Françoise.

The pub at the mouth of the port of Antibes was more English Pub then French Café, narrow and deep. We sat inside munched on peanuts and shared a carafe of cool white wine. We were at the last table, she facing the door but turned toward me and I sat on her left, facing her, rather then sit facing the wall. Françoise was wearing a short pleated skirt and a simple white blouse. Still no makeup. I could make out the outline of her nipples through her blouse. We did not discuss why we were there. Ten minutes after we were seated she said,

“You like them, don’t you?

I was taken by surprise, “What?” I started to ask then stopped, noticing that she had caught me looking at her nipples, again.

“Very much Françoise, I can’t begin to tell you how very sensual you are.”

“The way you danced with me last night made me feel sensual,” she quietly responded.

“Is that why you asked me to call?”

“No. I wanted to meet you here to see if we can plan a liaison.”

“To meet? I asked.

She smiled, “Of course Rian. To meet and to make love.”

“Françoise, I’d travel around the world to meet and make love to you.”

My hand was resting on the table, and she reached to place her hand on mine.

“What is your schedule tomorrow?” she asked.

“I have no schedule, only the things we normally do.”

“Will Gail notice you are gone if you are away a few hours?”

“Probably?”

“Then we should not meet”, she replied.

“I can arrange it. I’ll ask my office to call me, make some excuse.”

“Would early morning be good?” She asked.

“Of course, but is there a particular…?”

“Yes”, Françoise interrupted, “I love mornings for love, it is more pure for me.”

“Then pure love in the morning it will be”, I said, “how about 8AM?”

She smiled. “ Silly, nine fifteen to nine thirty, I’ll pick you up at the hotel.”

“I truly look forward to it Françoise.”

“Me too, especially me”, she said.

Getting away the next morning was not as difficult as I had expected. Considering the tension still at hand from yesterdays exchange, Gail may have been pleased to see me go.

“I’m going into Antibes” I said, should be back in a couple of hours”

“O.K., she called from the bathroom. I’ll be at the pool.”

I walked to the main entrance gate in case Gail was watching from the window. Françoise arrived just moments after I was out on the street. We drove into Juan le Pin and parked in the underground parking of a hi-rise building. We had smiled at one another and exchanged small talk on the ride over. Françoise was dressed in an armless white linen dress that had a tight bodice and loose wrap around bottom, the occasional glimpse of leg, and her fresh bathed smell was intoxicating. She was truly naturally beautiful.

She explained the apartment belonged to a friend who was away in Paris for the week. I stood at the third floor window looking out across the street at the Mediterranean. Cafes below were already bustling and the tourists were out en masse locating their breakfast stops. Françoise came behind me and put her arms around me.

“Thank you for coming”, she said.

I turned and held her, “I’m the one that should be thanking you.” While I was speaking she was watching my mouth momentarily, then lightly kissed me. We didn’t break apart, the kiss became intense and then we started exploring each other. I cupped her breast, and rubbed her behind. She squeezed my behind and rubbed my already hard cock through my pants. I loved the way she reciprocated, no feminine part playing from this lovely lady.

In bed we undressed one another. I kissed her breasts and neck, and then fixed my mouth to hers in a passion filled kiss that actually made me feel faint. Her young body was supple, ready to be loved. She had dark very full pubic hair. The hair ran to her thighs and fully covered her mound. I had never seen a woman with so much hair and I found it so erotic that I kissed and touched and loved her there for a very long time.

As I touched her she softly spoke endearing words in French. Though I did not understand her it sounded so very perfect.

When I knelt between her legs she watched as I guided myself to her vagina and began to rub my cock up and down her slit. She was extremely wet, ready, and when I pushed forward and started to slide into her she simply sighed “Oh Oui, Oui Rian,” saying my name with a heavy French accent. I pumped into her steadily for a while watching her beautiful face, intense in concentration, eyes closed with her whole body intense on our union. She was so wet that the head of my cock had a creamy ring around it. I’d slip in to the very depth, my balls getting wet from her juices, then stay buried in her while we kissed. In less then ten minutes I couldn’t hold back any longer and with a whispered “Oh, I’m coming”, I groaned and started to shoot spurt after spurt deep into her womb. She held me close whispering,” Yes Rian, come in me… come in me Rian. “

I rested, my cock still in her, and apologized for coming so soon.

“No reason,” she said smiling.

We started kissing and touching again. I explored her body; her perfectly shaped breasts hung just enough to make them womanly. Ten minutes later my cock stiffened again as I touched her behind, probing her back hole, and rubbed her hair covered clit. She sensed when I was ready to fuck again and climbed on top guiding my cock into her and with one slow and continuous thrust she took my cock to the hilt. I am reasonably endowed but for some reason my cock had swollen to a larger proportion and I felt like I was bursting. And Françoise loved me. She pumped, sucked, stopped, squeezed me hard to stop me from coming, kissed my mouth tenderly and fucked me with abandon. Her pussy was soaked, my thighs were wet, and she still had not come. After twenty minutes of this intense - on the edge - love making, Françoise started to moan then she started shaking. Her whole body trembling. She threw back her head.