I’m in the lingerie aisle at Samaritaine, trailing my friend. Bored, scanning bras and thongs on mannequins. Then, eyes lock. Her: fake blonde, blue eyes piercing like Mediterranean storm. Smiles wicked. Complicit. Crowd pushes us close. She’s grabbing red lace, arms full.
Waiting by fitting rooms. Curtain cracks. ‘Hey, sir… need a man’s opinion.’ Heart races. Peek in. Fuck. She’s nearly naked. Pearl-gray stockings, sheer red bra and thong hugging curves. Firm tits high, nipples poking. Ass round, thighs toned. Spins slow, arms up, chest out. Hips sway. Takes my breath.
The Spark Ignites
‘So?’ ‘Perfect. Red suits your skin. Makes your ass pop.’ She unhooks bra. Tits free, pink nipples hard. Rolls thong down. Glimpse bush trimmed arrow-pointing to pussy. Quick change to black lace. Spins again. ‘Emeline. You?’ ‘Pierre.’ Gives card. ‘Tomorrow, 6 PM.’ Pulse pounds. Forbidden hook sinks deep.
Next day, her chic Paris door. Kisses cheeks, perfume heavy. White salon. Sits opposite. Legs splay wide. No panties. Pussy bare, lips brown, pendulous, wrinkled. Clit hood peeks. Arrow bush directs. Chat trivial. Stare fixed. She edges forward. ‘Taste me.’ Reclines, skirt up, legs on arms. Pussy glistens.
Kneel. Kiss thighs. Musky sweat. Nose in bush. Head spins. Tongue hits folds. Hot, wet. Suck clit shaft. Hardens. She grabs head. Groans. Tongue dives vagina. Syrup floods mouth. Fingers tense. She squirts. Hot piss-like gush. Suck harder. Another orgasm. Thumb rims ass. Slides in. Tongue fucks. Fingers clit. Explodes again. Face drowned.
Surrender to Ecstasy
She pulls me up. Sucks nipples. Hand strokes cock. Nails tease head. Balls cupped. Mouth engulfs. Deep throat. Balls empty down her gullet. Stays sucking. Hard again. Mounts. Tits in face. Bite nipples. Pussy swallows cock. Grinds wild. Flip her. Legs lock waist. Deep thrusts. Anal next. Ass grips tight. Pounds to mutual blast.
Shower. She cleans cock with mouth. Promise return.
Routine now. Different apartments each time. Salons only. Modern, rococo. No bedrooms. Friends tease: concierge fucking in owners’ pads? One day, post-fuck. Ask. She laughs. ‘I’m the owner. All empty. Decorate each my mood. Sixteen flats for whims.’ Mind blown. Her playground. Our secret sins.
Thrill lingers. Back to normal life. But obsession burns. Emeline’s pussy haunts. That arrow leads me back. Forbidden, raw. Mine alone.