It was Monday, of the second week of my wife Gemmas, and mine's, annual ski trip to the French resort of Tignes. It had been a perfect day so far. The resort was only half full at best, and it had snowed overnight for twelve hours. Ski conditions were ideal. Refreshingly cold air, sun shining, in a deep blue sky.
We had hit the first lift to open and had spent a day skiing in ideal conditions, even getting the first run in on the competition piste in 'Val D' when it was opened. Cruising linked G.S. turns on a firm base and fresh snow above our ankles.
At the end of the day, we had dumped the skis in our apartment and had a couple of Aprรจs-ski beers in "The Crowded House" pub. As usual, the place was jumping. Getting back to our apartment, we had a shower. I'm sorry to say not a combined sexy one. The plumbing and shower weren't up to that, so just a functional one. Then as we dried off lying on the bed, Gemma took me in her mouth and started to give me a blowjob. I got her into a sixty-nine and ate her pussy out. A very, very nice way to spend half an hour before going out to dinner.
We have been married for ten years and know each-others bodies and their needs to perfection. So it wasn't hot, hot, hot, oral sex, just nice and pleasant between us. We both got off, Gemma even let me cum in her mouth, which was a change. We both love oral sex, and Gemma is very good at it, but she just doesn't like the result. I'm willing to accept that, because, what she does do is so very good. She must be in the mood for some fun later, I thought.
We went out to our favourite Pizzeria, and then the real reason for this story began to unfold.
I was looking at the menu when I felt a presence at my side. Turning to look, my face nearly collided with the groin of the tightest pair of jeans ever to clothe a body. They fitted so tightly, I could see the cleft of the waitresses vagina, my nose was almost pushed into it.
Being a leg man, I dropped my gaze to look at the legs encased in the tight denim, they looked more than acceptable to me. I then ran my eyes slowly up the body that was attached to this groin and legs. Flat belly, slim flaring hips with a nice arse, and then a beautiful pair of breasts, standing firm and proud covered in a shirt that was as tight as the jeans and straining at the seams.
Her face was cute and elfin like, with hair cropped so short it was almost non existent. Fuck, I thought, lesbian.
She looked down at me with that disdain that the French appear to have for everyone who isn't French, but especially for the English, plus I was also a man.
After she took our order and walked away, I blatantly and unashamedly followed her with my eyes. Feasting, on the sight of her, tight denim-covered arse as it swayed as she retreated.
"You fancy her, don't you?" questioned Gemma.
"Don't you?" I replied.
"Oh, God, yes. But she's mine for the taking anyway."
"What?"
"She wants me, you didn't see the ways she was flirting with me as you were reading the menu and ogling her body. She wants me and badly."
When I looked at Gemma, she was slightly flushed and had more buttons on her top open than I remember. If the waitress had been flirting with Gemma, then Gamma had been flirting back!
Let me give you a bit of background about Gemma and me, we've been married ten years now as I've said, and had been together for two years before that. Right from the start, Gemma had told me that she was bi. She insisted that she would never be unfaithful to me with another man, but could not, and would not, give up women. I loved her so much that I accepted her conditions from the off, but it had an unexpected benefit for me. At times, Gemma liked three-ways and would get the other women in her life to join us as a three. She said that she enjoyed seeing me with her lovers!!!
"Well, looks like you've pulled tonight," I told her, "but don't forget we have an early start tomorrow with a guide."
"Oh no, if she wants me, she gets you as well, we are a pair in this," said Gemma.
"She'll not go for it, you saw the look she gave me. She doesn't like men, it's obvious."
"She'll have to if she wants me, and she wants me, badly. It's both of us or none of us."
Gemma is unerringly right in reading a situation like this and has never been wrong before. One thing I forgot to mention, she is incredibly sexy. And just exudes this air of blatant sex appeal. It works on men like a charm, but when she turns it on for some reason, women go nuts for her, even "straight" women. She's turned more than one woman like that, even if only for a one night stand.
"Well, you'll have to get her to agree, if she won't, then take her yourself. But I want a blow by blow account later on," I told her.
"I told you she's hot for me, she'll do it."
This might sound callous discussing how we were going to seduce this woman. Then again, she had started it by flirting with Gemma when it was clear to see we were married as our wedding rings were in plain sight.
All through our meal Gemma and the waitress were flirting like mad, good job, the restaurant wasn't very full, as she spent an inordinate amount of time at our table. The flirting between the two women had become more intense, and I'm sure everyone in the restaurant could see what was going on. Gemma was blatantly running her hand up the waitresses leg, and staring longingly into her face, fluttering her eyelids. It was porn right in front of me. At one point I thought they were going to have sex there and then on the table. That was when the waitress bent over the table. Gemma ran her hand up the jeans-clad thigh and pressed on her pussy.
Gemma was talking to her in fluent French and looking across at me, I saw a shake of the waitresses head and, "Non." Gemma then said something more, again a shake of the head and another, "Non," as she walked away.
"Blown it," I said.
"No she'll come round," Gemma said full of conviction. "She just needs an incentive and to get used to the idea."
The next time the waitress came to our table, Gemma followed her as she walked away, clearly stroking her arse as they walked to the Ladies. As they went inside, Gemma turned to me and gave me a knowing wink. They must have been fifteen minutes in there before Gemma came out, hair a mess and blouse barely done up. When she finally emerged, the waitress looked scarcely any better.
"Had to give her a freebie and to show her what she would be missing out on," Gemma giggled as she sat down. "She's agreed, we meet her in the disco in an hour."
About five minutes later, when she brought the bill, the waitress actually smiled at me and placed her hand on my neck, tickling it, playing with my hair.
"Told you so, knew she couldn't resist me," Gemma smirked, God the arrogance of her at times.