As I've gotten older my sexual tastes have changed and I'm more than comfortable bedding women who, ten or twenty years ago I wouldn't have found remotely attractive or even interesting. Not that I don't enjoy fucking the occasional twenty-year-old. In my mid-forties that's still something of a pleasant change, and it still happens reasonably regularly, but I'm aware that girls that young tend to regard me as a change of diet from the guys they regularly hang around with. Nothing wrong with that, but there's a lot of truth in that old adage "No matter how good she looks, always remember some guy somewhere is fed up putting up with all her shit".
But there are exceptions to every rule, and the story I'm about to tell involved a married woman in her twenties whom I would have thought would be the last to do what she did. Some of you will call me a complete cunt for doing what I did, and you're entitled to that opinion. All I can say is I'd do it all over again if I had the chance.
It took place three months ago (to the day, actually, although I'm not sure I'll finish writing it up tonight as my wife is working upstairs and may come down to interrupt me anytime). It happened in Paris and, like most of my conquests these days, it involved a married woman - in this case a stunning Latina whom I'll call Jenny because her real name is fairly rare, and because I'm not hiding enough of the details to make her completely unrecognisable should her husband (who I know is a subscriber to Literotica) stumble across this story.
Jenny is twenty-seven, five foot five, with shoulder length light brown hair and a pretty freckled face, grey blue eyes and a slim figure. She and Eddy haven't had kids yet, and Jenny is a confident fun-loving and lovely girl. She looks after her body and although I'm not a tits man, I do like seeing Jenny when she's in a T-shirt with no bra on underneath.
I've sometimes called round when she's been working out, and she's answered the door in her plain white T's and black leggings. She tends to put a sweater on over the T if I do that, but those first three or four minutes before she does are always a treat. One time she was carrying on with some decorating she and Eddy had started the previous night. He'd gone to work and I'd called round that morning with a work bench he'd asked to borrow. Jenny was there paint brush in hand and wearing only a bra and shorts. That was great. I stayed to help with the painting and she continued to work alongside me - wearing, as far as I could assume, just three items of clothing and a shy smile. I had a huge erection the whole time I was on the ladder doing the high bits, and when I went upstairs to take a loo break I stole a pair of her panties from her drawer to wank into later. Yes, you could definitely say I had been fantasising about Jenny for a long time before I finally broke down her defences.
Before I describe how what happened in paris happened, let me just set the scene a little. I was coming back from Arles last October. The trip had been a combination of business and pleasure and my presence in Arles had been simply because I'd always wanted to see the place that inspired Van Gogh and his contemporaries. I stayed in a hotel opposite the famous cafe where they say Van Gogh had been inspired to paint his picture of that famous Starry Night. The hotel is a rambling stack of a building and I had been enquiring about the pictuesque east wing where there appeared to be old turrets. The lady at the reception desk called a girl called Genevieve to show me the room that appeared to be vacant in that wing. I agreed to see the room and if I didn't like it, I'd just book one of the standard rooms in the modern west wing. The walk to the east wing had taken Genevieve and me up and then down several sets of staircases before we arrived at a lift. From there we went up two floors, walked along an internal courtyard and appeared in a corridor that housed the room.
It was at least seven minutes away from the front desk, very isolated and quiet and I liked it a lot. It was atmospheric and peaceful and I knew I was going to make it my home for the next three nights while I was there. More than that, the lift had been very small - one of those two-person lifts the French hotel builders in the early years of the twentieth century seemed to go in for, and I had been forced to stand very close to Genevieve who I now saw was a pretty little slip of a thing - probably not much older than 19 or 20 and wearing a pink neckerchief and a white blouse. She had untucked the bottom of the blouse from her skirt and tied it in a knot just above her belly button. It was no unpleasant thing to be standing within a few inches of her and smelling her perfume for those few minutes while the ancient lift ground its way up the shaft, and it's not stretching the truth to say that another shaft started doing a bit of grinding too - although I kept everything hidden from Genevieve.
I took a quick look around the room. There was an adjoining room that I could have them keep empty for an additional fee of twenty Euros a night to ensure complete privacy. There was also a huge bathroom and a long balcony that the two rooms shared. In effect, I would be getting a private suite for less than 100 Euros a night in one of the most picturesque parts of town. I had made my mind up. I was going to take the room. I turned around to say something to Genevieve along the lines of "Oui, c'est bon" when I noticed she had taken a seat on the bed and I could see right up her skirt to her panties. They were also pink - the exact shade of her neckerchief. She seemed unaware she was flashing me her panties and I stayed silent in order to enjoy the moment and extend the period before she stood up.
After about a minute I knew I had to take things further. I've had my fair share of face slappings for what I was about to do, but I'd also had about a one in three success rate. So I took out a twenty Euro note and sat down next to her. She looked at the note and looked at me. I took her hand and put the note in it.
"Pourquoi?" she asked. I put my finger to her lips. She let it rest there. I reached across with my other hand and gently tugged at the knot of her blouse. She closed her eyes and let me push her back on the bed. I kissed her on the mouth and her little tongue gently brushed across my lips. I continued to unbutton her blouse and then moved my hand across her stomach, stroking it in circles and moving downwards until my fingertips were running across the top of her skirt.
She opened her eyes and whispered "Nous n'avon pas beaucoup de temps, monsieur. La madame!" I nodded and unclasped her skirt. She unzipped the rest of it and I pushed her down onto the bed as I wanted to fuck her with her still wearing those pink panties. I moved the crotch of the panties to one side and slid a finger across her hole. She was wetter than I had guessed. I went to my pocket to unwrap a condom but she tugged me back to her and shook her head. I entered her unprotected and we fucked for three or four minutes until first she, and then seconds later I, came. It was thrilling to fuck her like that. I hoped she had a boyfriend and that she would go and fuck him that afternoon or evening so his dick would be sluiced on its way by my leaking cum. But for now she just lay there panting for breath while I withdrew and gently removed her panties. I was keeping those. I love making whores out of honest women, but the twenty Euros hadn't been about that. It was really to buy her panties off of her. I'm a trophy collector that way.
I'd only seen Genevieve twice more that stay. Both times she was on her way out of the hotel, but I'd got her out of my system by then and I simply enjoyed the stay for its other attractions. Over breakfast on the third day I consulted Apple Maps, picked a scenic route north to Paris and that evening, after a superb drive through the beautiful French countryside, I was checking into my hotel in the Marais for my last two nights in France before my return back across the Channel.
That was when I saw Jenny! She was in a business suit and was paying a taxi right outside the front door. She almost bumped into me at the reception desk and then the look of shock on her face was a real picture! "Steve!" she cried! "Oh my god, what a surprise! You're in Paris!"
We did what all friends do when they bump into each other in unexpected locations. I explained why I was there and she told me she was there on one of her rare (twice a year) forays into Europe on behalf of a PISA research group she volunteered for. I'd quite forgotten she'd been a teacher and an education researcher. She rarely mentioned any of her work when we met as a group of friends. Eddy being a photographer and me being a writer, we tended to dominate the conversations I guess. But Jenny was fiercely intelligent and had a sharp analytical mind. I could see why PISA valued her data gathering.
She let me buy her a drink in the hotel bar and, since it was only about 8:30 she also agreed that I could buy her dinner. I had quite a bit of spare cash as my stay in Arles had been much cheaper than I had budgeted for, so I decided to push the boat out. I asked the receptionist for a recommendation and he gave me a look and then looked at Jenny. He had seen us greet each other and it was obvious that we weren't married to each other but that there was a warm friendship there.
He said to me in a low voice "Well, sir, there is a place in the 5th that is quite exclusive, but I happen to know someone there and I can get you a reservation if you want somewhere special."
I met his eye and pushed a fifty Euro note across the counter. Ten minutes later we had finished our drinks and the receptionist had called us a cab. We headed to the restaurant, which turned out to be just about the most perfect little place for seduction you ever saw. Each table was curtained off from the others, and the waiters buzzed around like busy but discreet bees bringing plates of oysters, scallops, moules and other fruits de mer to the diners, all of whom that I could actually see were couples and (I couldn't help noticing) most of whom appeared to be getting on extremely well with one another.
