Six weeks. Forty-two days since Caroline surrendered to me in that Paris hotel room. Back at the hospital in southern France, we nod, smile, brush cheeks. Her perfume hits me like a drug. She’s married. Family. No drama. Rational brain says good. But nights? Her skin haunts me. Taste on my tongue. Wet heat. I ache.
Girlfriend sniffed it out. Distant fucks. Fights. She bolts. Ex? Mechanical screw, empty. Current one sniffs my place for rivals. Patchy glue holds us. But I dream of Caroline’s call.
The Awakening: Craving the Forbidden
Patrice, the hospital stud, smirks. ‘Banged Miss Iceberg?’ I deny. He jokes frostbite in her panties. Hitchcock’s volcano under snow? He missed it.
She corners me. Empty consult room. Door clicks shut. Close. Heart races. ‘Big mistake,’ she whispers. ‘Cheated on my husband.’ Paris. Massage. Blindfold. Champagne. ‘Three glasses.’ Planned it. Wanted it.
‘Punish me?’ Eyes drop. Blush. Spank her like a naughty girl? She nods. Knows it’ll lead to more. Tenderness too. Hotel. Marseille. Old Port. Saturday. One week wait.
Week blurs. Pheromones everywhere. Women glow. Patrice teases frostbite fingers. Caroline chats normal. Girlfriend? Dumped. Threats fly.
Her call. Room number. Mistral wind. Harbor view. King bed. Jeans, polo. Knock. Soft. Her: skirt, tight white top, glossy lips. Kiss. Sweet. Bags drop. Window. Ass sways. ‘Sublime view.’ Mine too.
The Act: Raw, Unbridled Ecstasy
Arms around neck. Scents mix. Eyes: mountain lakes, hot. Tongues tangle. Hands under skirt. Firm cheeks through panties. Grind on my hard cock. She moans. ‘Wanted your arms.’ Knead harder. ‘Punishment first?’
Mirror doors. Strip show. Eyes open. Watch. Polo off. Her top. Shoes. Bra snaps. Tits perfect. Nipple flicks. Zipper down. Skirt pools. Jeans gone. Panties cling wet. Tug elastic. Bush. Soak.
My boxers. Cock slaps belly. Side by side. Couple. Hold her wet crotch. ‘Wet when?’ ‘Always. Thinking of you. That night.’ Ass white. ‘Gonna pink it.’ Chair. Over knees. Belly down. Ass up. Cock throbs on hip.
‘Dix. Count.’ Smack! One. Two. Red blooms. Voice pitches. Ten. Cry peaks. Caress heat. She’s fire.
Straddles. Kisses. ‘Hurts too much. Next time… something else.’ Next time. Fingers dive her slit. Gush. Pump. Taste lava. She milks pre-cum. Shares. ‘Love our mix.’ Frots pussy on shaft. Whispers filth. ‘Do everything.’