Les Desirs Des Femmes Pt 04

This continues on from previous LDDF episodes. To fully understand the context, you are advised to read the earlier episodes, but for those who do not wish to, all you have to know is that our main character, an outgoing 20 year-old man, has come across a list of 44 names, on a mysterious website called "Les Désirs des Femmes." - the names of 44 women who have desired him in the past or present. Without the list, he would never have known about these women and their desires, and the women do not know that he has knowledge of their desires for him. This series of stories offers us a front-row seat as he knocks on a few of the 44 doors...

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After a perfect hour with Anne, it was around two weeks until I got back to the 'Désirs' list, mostly because I had college coursework to complete, and I wanted the A-grade I felt I was good for, so I put in the same decent efforts as ever before. I even think there were days in those two weeks when the 'Désirs' list did not even cross my mind. That may give you some idea of how dedicated I can be with my studies (this time on how the men and women of the Goldrushes 1845-70 dealt with harsh conditions and other hazards). But I was studying something I was fascinated by, and there is a lesson in there somewhere. But, work hard, play hard, and all that.

Of course there were Ladies of Pleasure around the Goldrush years, drawn to the many opportunities on offer in Alaska or California, and my reading on this, even if most of it was far from erotic, did actually lead me back to Les Désirs...

After I had sent in my coursework I poured a larger than usual glass of chilled Disznókő Tokaj Aszú wine (5 puttonyos, 2017, gifted to me by my uncle in Hungary if you need to know) and I sat down at my laptop to get back to the list of women who had ever desired me.

I had now had adventures with three women from the list - incredibly, memorably and deliciously erotic adventures; one with the beautiful woman who ran my local bookstore, one with an Austrian lady who now lived in Chelsea (and for whom leather was more than just leather, and who took me upstairs very happily), and most recently with Anne, my mega-crush from my teenage years, whose orgasm I had relished more than any other, ever.

Of course none of them had needed much persuasion to let me kiss their bodies and take them to planet "O" - the LDDF list had given me the green light, and, naughtily, even unfairly, I had made full use of my chances.

Affectionately, I pushed my cat, Plonker, off my writing table and clicked the Désirs list up on my laptop. Should I go and see what was up with the English teacher, Mrs Edgerton, from my old school, who was right there fifth from the top on my list? I sat for a while and just thought...

No.

Firstly, she might have desires for me, but I remember her as an introverted, almost pigeon-like person with a slightly 'I've given up' sense of style and one of those haircuts you could just as well imagine on a man. And secondly, there is something a bit too everyday-ish about stories about older school Ma'ams seducing or being seduced by their 'student studs'. Simply, I am not going to add to this litany, ...and I had mostly passion-killer memories of Mrs. Joyce Edgerton.

Missus

. Joyce. Edgerton.

As married as you can be, no doubt, to a husband whose idea of a great evening would probably be a small sherry to accompany both sides of a scratchy gramophone record by Aker Bilk, then the news at 9 and finishing with - no, I don't need to imagine any more.

I know I am being harsh and judgemental, but that's what you get from me right now. So, I looked down the list for something which had a whiff of proper adventure about it, if that could possibly be discerned better from Name A rather than Name B. Sure, it was going to be lucky-dip, again. And lucky - it was.

I nearly spat a mouthful of wine out as my eyes got down to the name 'Dawn French.' My laughter was loud and genuine. This cannot, CANNOT, be

the

Dawn French. No-no-no-no... That could be a common enough name in this country, couldn't it? We all adore the on-screen Vicar of Dibley Dawn French, and I am delighted to say that IMHO, the on-screen Dawn French is endlessly sexy, with her all-woman, honest lust for life, her massively kissable lips, sparkly eyes and cheeky-flirty vulnerability, alongside intelligent woman-of-the-worldliness. And in interviews, the real Dawn is equally sexy, with a touch of West Country in her silky accent, her cheery positivity and occasional bedroom eyes and semi-shocking outbursts. Hilarious... and hot!

But no. Surely not on my list.

And now my curiosity was too well piqued, I just have to meet

this

Dawn French. How does she know me? Did we have any meaningful contact in the past? or was it 15 seconds' wordless proximity at the ATM? Is she older? Much older? Please, not younger....

Time to find out. I clicked on the purple asterisk to the right of her name and got a new phone number. Dawn French's phone number... I grinned again. Today is turning into a day of not-quite showbiz surprises. Yes, I would love to get very naughty with the real Dawn French, but a local and hopefully very sensual Dawn French is my target now. I will put the Vicar of Dibley out of my mind and see if

my

Dawn French still fancies me.

I have always advocated avoiding over-thinking and what-iffing with yourself. I say: Just do it! So I keyed the phone number into my phone and heard the ringtone immediately.

"Hi, this is Dawn," a very welcoming voice came over loud and clear.

Waaahh! Hooo! Haaa! How do I play this? What to say to a woman who could be anyone at all from my past or present life? I had to pull myself together quickly.

"Hi Dawn," I said, slowly, playing for time just a little. "This may come as a surprise to you as we may not - "

But she cut in immediately, and how glad I was that she did:

"I know that voice! Ha-HaaaAAHH! What the Holy Fuck!? Why are you calling me? How? What? How do you know my number? Christ, this is too brilliant!"

Reader, it took a bit of white-lying and BS-ing from me to explain to her that, very simply, we had to meet, without telling her anything about her name being on my Les Désirs des Femmes list, and, very happily, she agreed to meet. And very encouragingly, she said we should meet "...totally, bloody as soon as flippin' possible..." at her workplace.

The Seven Dragons.

The Seven Dragons... Massage Parlour!

The Seven Dragons massage parlour right here in town, where I had gone for a massage only a few months before. One hour, traditional Thai. It had been really good; tough, but good - but the masseuse had not been called Dawn.

So hang on a minute... What is

my

Dawn French doing - calling the Seven Dragons her workplace?

Time to find out about that too. I grinned again, took the quickest shower of the week, grabbed my denim jacket, added a dab of after-shave, and left the house.

It turned out she knew my voice as I had sat not far from her for a few minutes back in March, telling my best mate Carl about wallpapering, of all the unsexy topics, over the phone, while she was cheerfully eavesdropping whilst manning the massage parlour's reception desk.

But here comes the best, best, best news.

Not only did she seem very pleased to see me when I arrived at the Seven Dragons, even holding my hand as she took me through again to the waiting lounge, with a broad grin on her face... but she was simply drop-dead gorgeous!

Firstly, she had the kind of lustrous black hair, up in a bun, which just says 'Let me down and see how amazing well cut and well kept hair can look, and feel!' And her smile was heavenly. She told me the last massage guests of the day had left not long ago and sat down beside me, and her story began.

She was in her thirties (but looked late twenties) and was half Thai, half Welsh - and there can't be thousands of those - and that Dawn was her middle name, her first being a tricky Thai name she had never used at all. Lived round here all her life. And she looked fantastic - light make-up around the prettiest, friendly eyes I had ever seen (how had I not registered her from our first encounter in March? How!?) and with a good, athletic body including the kind of legs I just love - bronzed, sporty, long, strong but feminine, visible now, as her 'horribly clichéd' shimmering, burgundy Thai smock, only came down to mid thigh as she sat beside me on the couch. This was getting better and better.

I was dumbstruck. This Miss French put the X back into 'far too sexy'. I even got tongue-tied answering her questions about why, earlier, I had not called about coming for a massage, as everybody else does who calls that number. Her accent was lovely and local too, and almost as soft as a whisper.

We got to the point where we just sat staring at each other with silly grins on our faces.

"You've been cheeky and bold, coming down here at a minute's notice," she said, "And looking at you and that look in your eye, I will now make a bold assumption..." and she stood up and beckoned me to the other side of the room.

"Right now you're the only 'client' on the premises, so strip off and put these on, lie down ont he massage bed in that room, and your personal massage will begin very shortly..."

The loose white shorts she handed to me felt tissue-thin and had quite a lovely strong exotic aroma to match the fantastic aromas in the darkened room I entered.

Light, slow gamelan or glockenspiel music echoed in the background as I stretched out on my front and took in the details of the dark, arching whicker-work wall before me, in flickering candle light.

Then the real surprise - literally all came in together.

Dawn entered, still in her gorgeous smock, and hair still in a bun, but this time with two other women, clearly Thai or Vietnamese, also beautifully feminine, also with hair up, and smiling with a calmness I fell for immediately.

With a charming smile Dawn sat for a moment on my bed-side, the other ladies beside her. "I don't know and I don't care how you know I desired you, and desire you now. And there is more that I don't care about, please hear me out, you will see... You maybe hoped to be just with me right now, but back in March, when you were here, there were three of us working that day who all agreed on one thing when we saw you then; we

all

wanted you."

"And we weren't half sad when you left and went home. We agreed that if ever there's going to be a chance to ravage you, then it would not be one of us - it must be all three. That's how we see this, that is what we want, and that's what will happen now."

I closed my eyes, struggling at first to take Dawn's words in, and at the same time I heard the women unclipping and dropping their smocks to the floor.

"Please keep your eyes closed for the first minutes," Dawn whispered. After a delicious pause I felt six hands start to carress by back, head and lower legs. Instant pleasure.

I had three beautiful, naked women massaging me, and soon enough it got more suggestive, with them now and again leaning right onto me so I could feel their hair, loose now, their soft skin, their breasts and even lips, with nobody else within a thousand miles for all I knew or cared.

This is just too good, who do I thank for the Désirs list, really!?... I only hope I can give these women some pleasure too. Will they let me? How will we do this? I can't just lie passively, I thought. We have to have some equality, some give and take and some communication...

"Dawn," I said. "There should be nobody leaving this room... frustrated."

With a giggle, another of the women leaned close to my ear and reassured me that

nobody

was going to be frustrated. She told me what she wanted from me, and her candid words almost made me laugh giddily:

"My name is Lianne, and my fantasy is for you to bring me close while I ride you, then you finish me with your fingers. Can you do that?"

I can do that, I thought to myself, but I was also thinking - Isn't this a bit odd for Dawn? After all, this visit is supposed to be about just us two. She seemed to be reading my thoughts as she leaned closer to my ear too and told me that she wanted to see me take Lianne, take her well, but not to come. To save the coming, if I could, and I really should try.. for her, for Dawn, at the end.

I hadn't realized how hard my erection had become till I felt it quite painfully jarred downwards against the massage bed, and I just

had

to turn, so I turned right over, and, as the women lifted their hands away for a second, I instinctively pulled the white shorts down and off, almost proudly displaying my hard inches to them.

Dawn paused a moment. "One final introduction is needed. Marie meet Hunky-Boy. Hunky-Boy, meet Marie!"

"A pleasure," I smiled at Marie, the third woman, and saw that she possibly looked the hungriest of the three. Hungry for me, oh, my days...

"Marie likes a man to eat her pussy, then to reward him with a little deep-throat, isn't that right, Marie?"

"Basically right, Dawn. I do have other little favourites, let'see how he holds up."

There was an almost silent purr of approval as they now had my erection as the centre-piece of what felt like a wonderful private exhibition in the half-dark, and then the hands returned to me for a short while, at least two of them seeming to enjoy exploring the shape of my very erect penis as Lianne climbed gracefully onto the wide massage bed and straddled me, now shamelessly brushing my penis head from side to side with her soft mound as her smooth tits jiggled tantalizingly close above my mouth. I could not take my eyes off them. I never can.

"I love it on top; I am ready and I bet I am wet - and I want my tits kissed as much as you can," her voice was almost staccato as she looked deeply into my eyes.

Dawn and Marie took their places standing beside the bed. I asked Marie to take my penis, rub it gently up and down Lianne's slit, then to leave it in place for me to enter her. This she did so slowly, I started to think that the pleasures building inside me would be to much, and that I was likely to explode before I had got anywhere near the amazing sex I was imagining with Dawn to finish.

So I admitted my fear, and they assured me that they would be more gentle, and that I should tell them if I was even half-way close to coming.

Slowly I slid up into Lianne, as she in turn eased herself down onto me. So good, too good. I was in dreamland. Her beautiful face was a picture of lust and pleasure and amiability, and, as promised, she lowered her perfect tits to my face and eased them first to my mouth for a gentle kiss, then a more fiery ones, which made her moan out loud, before she moved up a little and started swirling her tits around my face, as I started to thrust up into her, feeling her gliding down onto my cock perfectly. Dawn and Marie carressed me wherever they could.

My face was being massaged by a lovely, slightly petite masseuse, with her soft-as-air tits, and I loved it, loved it, loved it, as I felt Dawn and Marie gripping both my hands now, and I saw that they were both also stroking Lianne, everywhere, and Lianne was losing control.

What an image above me, one I will remember for ever, as Lianne suddenly stopped riding me, with tummy muscles locked up and the other two now supporting her enraptured body as she screamed an almighty climax into the room. She screamed and screamed some more, and tears came to her eyes and her body palpitated with pleasure as she drew gulp after gulp of air.

Amazing - and I was glad that her ecstasy made her buck herself upwards and off me, otherwise I would have shot my load there and then. Somehow I just had to keep myself for Dawn, my Dawn, so luscious beside me.

Lianne was off the bed now and I did not see her for a while as Maria and Dawn leaned in and beamed down happily at me. Well, we didn't get to the finishing finger-job poor Lianne asked for - will she ever forgive me?

"While I give you my best BJ," Marie started up, with a voice so seductive that I felt a quiver of new life in my erection, "Dawn and I want to be fingered by our naughty boy. Dawn hasn't been touched yet, and she's getting a bit twitchy about it, aren't you, darling?"

"Quite twitchy, I guess," said Dawn, "So don't hang about..."

Oh, please let this be true, I thought. If there is one thing I love, absolutely love, it is to see and feel a good woman getting off on my fingers. Sex is great, but a hand up a skirt, and two people loving the erotic contact like that... there is not much better. It just gets me off.

And so many people, mostly men, just want to get on with some wham-bam-thank-you bonking, and they overlook just how hot it can be for a woman to be fingered as well as I think I can finger a woman.

My hands will give these two ladies something to remember, I hoped.

Dawn and Marie were both gloriously wet when my fingers gently brushed upwards along their soft thighs, and now they both stood with legs slightly further apart, to welcome my touch.

My right hand knows how to do this, but my left felt a little less experienced, awkward even, but I was sure I could replicate the skills of the one in the other, more or less. No point worrying about it now. Time to give pleasure.

I never hurry this part, and it might have been unusually slow to them, but we were a thresome in harmony, and their faces just said Yes, and A-little-more... and Oh-my, and Yes-again, until I had double fingers gently stimulating them both, sometimes deeply, sometimes less so, in ways which their open mouths and sparkling eyes and quickened breathing proved that they both liked, almost as a mirror image above me.

Then Marie's open mouth was down and on me and around me and quite energetically her lips slipped up and down my still hard penis. At first she seemed too quick, too powerful, but a second later she found an easier pace and the familiar opiate mini-shocks of sensual pleasure ran up and down the front of my body.

All the while Dawn was looking down at me with a peaceful pleasure in her eyes, and then, with my fingers still working her pussy with all the gentle-but-present skills I could manage, she too leaned forward and started to massage my face with her jiggling tits, playing in the candle light shadows.

How did they know I loved that? Who cares? It is magical to end all magicality, and I kissed Dawn's amazing pair gently and savoured their generous weight and carresses across my eyes, cheeks, lips again, and swirling all around. Bliss.

"Oh... Marie's getting close! She never lasts too long with the right kind of fingering from the right man," Dawn purred, "Especially when she is sucking him off. She gets very, very turned on by sucking. Just like she gets too turned on from licking pussy, isn't that right, Marie?"

"Just yesterday, when we shut up shop here, she came all over my fingers as she licked me silly, right here on this very bed? Loud girl... and that made me cum too!"

Dawn's words had immediate effect on Marie, and, with my cock snuggly in her mouth, and with my fingers playing the game they love to play around her G-spot, Marie too exploded gloriously, her pussy gripping my fingers as I eased my movements, and her loud groaning muffled slightly with her mouth still full.

Her glistening lips let my penis go and her upper body slumped down onto my thighs as she murmered a belated "Fuck-fuck-fuck! That was goooood!" - and with a low giggle: "My tummy's still trembling, God I love that feeling..."

Then she went silent, regained the strength in her legs a little and grinned up at me.

"You better book another appointment again next week, Mister!" and she exhaled long and low, resting her elbows on the bed end.