loves_of_odette

Archive-name: loves_of_odette

Subject: SP fiction: LOVES OF ODETTE

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

(see info at end of extract)

Close to a crisis now, Odette broke the stillness and cried
out. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
She whimpered as Michel's swollen organ drove hard and deep
into the depths of her sex, groaning as her husband moved
vigorously inside her body. Michel's hands grasped her buttocks
firmly as his chest crushed her breasts. With his face pressed
beside hers, she could hear his short grunts of passion. His
penis felt huge inside her passage, the muscles of her sex
straining to contain him. She had a narrow channel, and were it
not for the thin layer of feminine lubrication, she was certain
his organ would burn her flesh. She wrapped her legs around his
back and squeezed his body, clinging to him as he pounded her.
She gasped, her fingers digging deeper into the muscles of his
back, her eyes closed as she lay beneath him on the wide bed.
They'd kicked the covers away before starting to make love,
and now they lay naked on the smooth clean sheet that would soon
be spotted. These moments of love were precious to Odette. She
had eagerly scattered her underthings across the deep rug as
Michel had stripped off his trousers to expose an enormous
erection. In another moment they were on the bed. Odette had
attempted to get him to kiss and caress her a bit before they
started, but he'd been too eager and had quickly forced her down
and pulled her legs apart. And of course she couldn't help
herself when he did that. As his finger rubbed her clitoris, she
felt her juices flowing. She was hot and ripe and there was no
way to stop him. When Michel's penis pushed inside her sex, she
closed her eyes and moaned and wished it would go on forever.
Now Michel's strokes shortened and Odette could feel the
tightening in his thighs. He was always so powerful when he took
her, and she admired him for his strength and the size of his
organ. His hips slammed down on hers with more force and she knew
the end would arrive soon. She braced herself for the final
onslaught. This was the part she liked best. She loved it when he
moved quickly, hard and quick and deep inside her. She panted,
urging him on, uttering words she never used in ordinary
conversation, shaking her head from side to side as every inch of
her body vibrated with his pounding thrusts. "Ah oui!" she cried
as Michel's control broke and his thighs twitched and jerked in
furious spasms.
Then he cried out, plunging his penis deep inside her as
Odette lifted her hips to meet him. He drove his organ into the
deepest recesses of her sex, and an instant later he came, the
spurts hot and thick far up in her passage.
The discharge seemed to burn through Odette's body. She
gripped Michel tightly as the sperm bathed her channel. Her head
pressed into the pillow and her heels dug at the mattress as her
body tensed with pleasure. She moaned without knowing it,
gripping Michel with her arms and legs as the warmth spread
everywhere. Her nerves reflected the orgasm back from her brain
to her sex, and again her passage clutched at his penis,
squeezing it as if to drain the last of the sperm out of it.
Suddenly she went limp. As Michel's organ grew soft inside
her, she lay back on the bed like an abandoned rag doll, her
limbs loose, her face flushed, her mind blank.
Five minutes passed.
When Odette finally turned to look at Michel, she found him
asleep. His limp penis dangled over his balls as he lay flat on
his back, the organ still thickly coated with the juices of their
lovemaking.
Odette told herself she'd need to wake him soon, otherwise
they'd be late for the cinema. It wasn't every evening they drove
into Paris for a night on the town. In fact, to her chagrin, they
hardly ever went anywhere. Most of her friends in Montigny
appeared to have the same problem.
She looked at Michel's penis again. Now it was so small,
shriveled to almost nothing to signal his total exhaustion. He'd
never been this way when they'd first met. In those days he never
fell asleep so quickly after they made love. But they were still
in love with each other, and the lovemaking was still good even
if they no longer shared those long weekends in bed. Michel said
it had something to do with the pressure of his job. He worked
for an industrial consulting firm in St. Gratien. Usually, when
he arrived home in the evening, he was so tired he fell asleep in
front of the television screen. Odette tried to be sympathetic.
She knew he worked so hard for both of them, but there were times
when she wished they could relive the passion of their first
joyous weeks together. On occasion she feared their amorous life
was finished except for those few short interludes that left
Michel exhausted and herself aching for more. She tried not to
think about it, because all that happened was that it made her
more hungry for love.
"All right, it's time," she said now to Michel. "We'll be
late if you don't get up at once."
Michel groaned. "Are you really sure you want to go?" He
rolled on his side, opened his eyes, then rolled over on his
belly.
Odette knew she'd need to act quickly or the cause would be
lost. This was not the first time such a thing had happened. Once
Michel was asleep, she would not have the heart to awaken him
again. No, it was impossible. She was determined to get out this
evening. He might need the rest, but she deserved to get out
somewhere.
"Please, Michel, let's go the cinema!" The thought of
watching television by herself while Michel slept brought her to
the brink of tears. She had done that too many times. "You said
you wanted to go," she whined. She knew she sounded like a nag
and it made her feel awful. That was the last thing in the world
she wanted. She loved and respected and adored Michel. She knew
their life together was good. But she hadn't realized things
would be like this. She hadn't realized marriage could be so
difficult.
Now Michel rolled over to get up. Odette looked at the clock
and realized she had to hurry and get dressed. She rose to gather
her bra and panties from the floor. She could feel Michel's eyes
on her as she slipped each firm breast into the tight brassiere.
She was almost thirty, but she still had a good body and she
intended to keep it a long time. When she picked up her panties,
she discovered the wetness in the crotch and she grimaced. She
tossed the panties into the laundry basket and she went to a
drawer to find another pair. Before she put them on, she went to
the bathroom to wash. She hoped by the time she returned, Michel
would not be asleep again.

"We're early," Michel announced as they moved in the heavy
traffic of the Avenue de Clichy. "Why don't we have a glass of
wine somewhere?"
Odette looked at him. Usually he hated to spend money
without reason. Merely coming into the city for the cinema was
expensive enough, considering all the debts they had. Then she
saw the sign he'd been looking at, a large glittering sign over a
cafe. "I'd love it," Odette said. "Provided we can afford it."
"No more than a carafe of wine," Michel said. "We have about
two hours before the cinema, so we can leave the car here and not
bother with parking near the OdＰn. That's sensible, isn't it?"
Odette would have agreed to go anywhere he wanted to take
her. It was so rare for them to go out like this, if he wanted to
stop and have some wine, she was delighted by it. "Marvelous,"
she said. She snuggled closer to him on the seat, proud to be
with him, proud to have other women see her with him. They found
a parking space not far from the cafe and made sure to lock the
car. The Peugot was new, but not so noticeably new that anyone
would want to steal it. Michel slid his arm around her waist as
he led her across the boulevard. An old clochard standing in a
doorway looked at them, and Odette pressed closer to Michel and
felt wonderful again to be with her husband.
The place was more a bistro than a cafe, and hovering on the
edge of seediness. When they walked in, they found themselves
practically in darkness. But the dark ambience covered any traces
of wear and made the room more appealing. The mood was soft and
erotic, and as Odette squeezed Michel's hand, she was happy to be
there. "It's pleasant," she whispered. "Yes, I like it."
They sat at a table and Michel ordered a carafe of red wine.
Although the room was large, the tables around it were set close
enough to give an intimate flavor. At one table Odette noticed a
couple about their own age. At another table was a man with a
woman who seemed to be his wife, the man in his fifties and his
wife about the same age. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.
At a table close to theirs was a younger man, late thirties,
early forties, his eyes appearing to appraise Michel and Odette.
Michel ignored the man and looked away. Odette thought the man
looked like a pleasant type, but she guessed he was in the cafe
to find a woman. This was the sort of place certain women might
frequent to meet men. Odette felt a sudden ache in her sex as she
imagined herself coming into a cafe like this one to flirt with a
man.
Then Odette noticed the woman with the man at the far table
was staring at her as she slowly sipped her drink. The look
wasn't at all casual, but a look of obvious interest. Odette
wondered if she might know the woman, and then decided she did
not. The man with the woman glanced at them also, but he tried to
be subtle about it. Now the man and the woman whispered together,
and Odette had a distinct feeling they were talking about herself
and Michel. And saying what? She was puzzled, wondering what
those two people were saying to each other.
Odette was almost finished with her first glass of wine,
when the woman at the far table rose and started toward them.
Odette could not help watching her. The woman wore a red sweater
and her breasts jutted sharply even though the sweater was not
particularly tight. Her black trousers were not too tight either,
but they clung to her body and revealed her trim hips. Her light
blonde hair hung across her shoulders, and from the way it
reflected the dim light, Odette guessed the color was natural.
Odette was certain the woman intended to speak to her. Their eyes
met for a moment, but then the woman walked on past Odette and
Michel.
Odette watched the woman as she walked to the opposite wall
where a coin telephone booth was located. The woman now stepped
into the booth to make a call. Odette wondered what the woman
might be up to, and when she looked back at the man, she found
him with his eyes lowered. Whatever the woman's interest in
Odette and Michel, her companion did not seem to share it. Odette
looked at the telephone booth again to see the woman retrieving a
coin from the machine. The woman stepped out of the booth and
returned to the bar, and as she sat down beside the man, Odette
decided they were husband and wife. Yes, they did look married.
Now she wondered why they appeared to behave so strangely.
No, you're thinking like a country girl, Odette told
herself. What difference did it make how they acted? This was
Paris, wasn't it? There were so many different people in the
city.
When the lone man in the cafe paid his check and left,
Odette noticed the blonde woman's eyes had again returned to her
and Michel. Again the woman whispered to her husband, but this
time he seemed more intent upon what she was saying. The man
nodded his head slowly, and the next moment the woman rose for
the second time. This time Odette was certain the woman would
speak to them.
"Pardon me," the woman said, looking a bit nervous as she
approached them. Their eyes met. The woman had blue eyes to match
her blonde hair and Odette thought she was very attractive. The
woman said: "You're not Marie and Bernard, are you?"
So that's it, Odette thought. They were supposed to meet
another couple, people unfamiliar to them.
"No, I'm sorry," Odette said, apologizing before she
realized how absurd it was to apologize for not being someone
else. "I'm Odette and this is Michel."
The woman made an effusive apology, obviously disappointed.
Odette then noticed the man had risen and he was now coming to
join them.
Speaking to Michel, the man introduced himself as Paul
Moulaine. "Sorry to disturb you. We're waiting for a couple, but
it seems they won't be arriving. We've never met them before, you
see, and Janine thought you might be them."
Michel was gracious. "It's no bother at all. Why don't you
join us in a drink?"
Paul Moulaine and his wife agreed, and they immediately sat
on the two empty chairs, Paul on the chair beside Odette. They
ordered another carafe of red wine, and then Odette noticed it
was almost time to leave for the cinema. What now? She decided
this was just as enjoyable. The four of them were talking, and it
was apparent the meeting was congenial. Paul was a chemical
engineer working in Nanterre, and Janine was a commercial artist
working at home. Like Odette and Michel, they had no children.
Odette thought they seemed like nice people, sympathetic and
relaxed. Janine's clothes were modest and tasteful, even if the
ripeness of her body could not be concealed by the style.
Then Paul said they ought to go somewhere more interesting,
maybe a disco on the Left Bank. Or they could go to the Moulaine
flat and drink their champagne. Janine seemed enthusiastic about
the idea. The Moulaines, it now appeared, had a spacious flat on
the west side of Paris near the Bois.
"Champagne," Michel said, five glasses of wine showing in
his eyes when he looked at Odette for agreement.
Odette smiled. "Yes, why not? But I think I ought to drive."
Michel protested, but Odette insisted. The check was paid,
and after that the two couples left the cafe to find their autos.
Twenty minutes later they were in the Moulaine flat
overlooking the Seine. Odette now realized the Moulaines were
richer than she'd thought, and she was suitably impressed. The
evening was beginning to appear like a dream, first the intimate
cafe, then the accident of meeting these nice people, and now
here they were in this lovely apartment.
Paul explained the maid was on holiday, and he served the
champagne himself. Odette was beginning to think the evening
would be more adventurous than she initially expected. She saw
the way Paul looked at her. She was far from naive about what
went on these days, and it occurred to her the Moulaines might
have more than champagne in mind. They want a partouze, Odette
thought before long, a quiver of interest passing through her as
she considered it. It was something she'd only read about and
never experienced. Could it really happen? Maybe she was merely
imagining the mood that seemed to be developing.
Odette and Michel were sitting on opposite sides of the
luxurious room, and in a moment Odette was surprised when Janine
sat next to her on the divan. She'd expected Janine would sit
near Michel. Wasn't that the way these things occurred? She could
see Michel had his eyes on Janine. She could see Michel's
interest, an obvious interest to anyone who knew him as well as
she did.
Whatever would happen, it progressed slowly. Paul waited
until they were halfway through their champagne, and then he
began talking about the other couple, the people he and Janine
had expected to meet in the cafe. It wasn't long before it was
clear Paul was explaining the Moulaines had expected to have sex
with the couple in a hotel somewhere. Or maybe back here at their
flat. "We find our own place more comfortable," Paul said with a
smile. He spoke quite casually about the plans they'd had for the
evening, as if two married couples joining each other in a
partouze was the most natural thing in the world.
Neither Michel nor Odette said anything. What could they
say? Odette felt a sudden lightness in her throat as she found
herself unable to approve or disapprove of what Paul Moulaine was
suggesting so clearly. She also felt a tightness between her
legs, a sign of excitement as she waited nervously to see what
would happen. Each moment felt like an eternity, as though they
were all walking on eggs.
Then Janine looked at Odette and said: "You don't have any
experience with that sort of thing, do you?"
"No," Odette said. Her mouth was dry. Could Michel tell what
she was thinking? She wondered what Michel himself was thinking
at that moment.
Janine whispered to Odette: "The first time Paul and I made
a partouze, I was also terribly confused."
Odette was about to protest that she had no intention of
having a sex party with the Moulaines, but the words never came
out of her mouth. On the other side of the room she could see
Paul talking to Michel. The conversation seemed friendly, and
Odette was struck by the absence of pressure. Paul and Janine
were not attempting to force anything. It was simply a matter of
offering them an opportunity. Suddenly Odette realized how
appealing Paul was. Few women who deceived their husbands could
hope to find a man as attractive as Paul Moulaine. And Janine was
appealing also, making no effort at all to captivate Michel.
Janine appeared to be merely attempting to have a good time. And
what was wrong with that? Odette thought she certainly could not
condemn anyone for that. But could she go along with a partouze?
That was another question completely.
Michel rose and approached Odette, and immediately she
sensed this was it. Janine left the divan and moved discreetly
out of their way so they could whisper together without
embarrassment.
Softly, Michel said: "They want to make a partouze with us."
Odette nodded. "Yes, I've gathered that."
"Do you want it?"
Odette attempted to look through his eyes to discern what he
was thinking. She finally gave her shoulders a small shrug. "I
don't know."
"They're pleasant people."
"Yes."
"Do you want to try it?"
Odette waited a long time before answering. Finally she
nodded, feeling that any moment an axe would fall on her neck.
Michel now whispered. "When we split up, I'll leave you here
with Paul. You don't have to do anything you don't want to,
that's the rule. Even if you just want to sit here and do
nothing, that's fine."
Which meant that Michel and Paul had already discussed the
procedure for the evening. Odette was astonished at this new
energy that seemed to be emanating from Michel. She nodded to let
him know she understood everything. She knew he thought he'd made
her more comfortable by assuring her she did not need to do
anything with Paul, but she wished Michel had simply told her to
go to bed with him. That would be more honest. And it would make
her feel less guilty. Instead he was allowing her to make up her
own mind, and she already knew what her decision would be. What a
fool he was if he thought she would remain in this flat another
moment if her intention was to sit here doing nothing while he
enjoyed himself with Janine. Finally she whispered to Michel: "I
don't want to catch any diseases."
"Paul has assured me . . . "
Odette shrugged. "Well, let's get on with it."
Michel turned to approach the Moulaines. "Everything is
settled."
Janine immediately rose from her chair and she walked over
to Michel's side. Odette felt a twinge of jealousy as she looked
at them, an instant of horror at what was happening.
"See you later," Michel said with a wave of his arm, and
then he and Janine turned and quickly left the room.
Odette sat immobilized. So it was done. She glanced at Paul,
but instead of looking at her, he was now walking to the entrance
into the room to slide the doors closed. Odette felt herself
tremble with apprehension as she watched him.
Paul turned to face her again. For a moment all he did was
stare at her. Odette could see his eyes travelling over her body,
an appraisal that produced a thrill up her spine, because when a
man looked at her like that she always reacted. Paul made no
effort to hide what he was thinking, and she liked his boldness.
He approached her slowly and held out his hands. Odette took them
and he helped her rise and gently pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her mouth, his tongue pushing between her lips.
Odette met his tongue with her own, the same way she always
kissed Michel.
Paul pressed one hand against the middle of her back while
the other hand firmly held one of her buttocks. He drew her body
against his, forcing her belly against his own. Odette was
certain she could feel his erect penis through their clothes.
Was it true? The organ felt enormous. Her hands hung limply
at her sides as he reached for the hook at the back of her
dress near her neck. He unhooked the top of her dress, and then
he slid the zipper down. As his right hand pulled at the zipper,
his left hand gathered up her skirt. Odette was thankful she wore
pantyhose because it meant she still had some protection, a
degree of concealment. But she could feel the heat of his palm as
he pressed it firmly against her buttocks, and the intimate touch
made her quiver.
He had to drop her skirt again in order to unhook her bra.
That required two hands. Then, stepping back, he pulled both the
dress and the bra forward over her shoulders. For a moment Odette
grasped at the front of the dress, attempting to keep herself
covered. But in a moment she yielded, and Paul pulled again and
she stood there naked from the waist up.
He gazed down at her breasts, and then he lifted his hands
to cup them in his palms. Odette could see the desire in his
eyes. She was proud of her breasts, proud of their firmness, and
her nipples stiffened under his touch. The dark brown tips
hardened as he gently pinched them with his fingers. She felt
tingling sensations in her breasts and a dampness between her
legs. Then Paul bent over to kiss her breasts and a shudder
passed through her. As he kissed her breasts, he lifted her skirt
and tugged at her pantyhose until Odette felt the nylon
stretching away from her body.
He was still kissing her breasts as he pushed her pantyhose
down to the middle of her thighs. Then, without a word, he
dropped to his knees in front of her and he helped her step out
of her shoes.
Odette stared down at him without speaking. She was too
astounded to move. Everything was happening so fast! As Paul
finished peeling the pantyhose from her body, she had to balance
a hand on his shoulder to step out of them. He pushed them out of
the way and then reached for her panties. For an instant she
wanted to stop him, but she did nothing. He stripped away her
panties just as easily as he'd stripped away her pantyhose. She
stared down at herself, and beneath the hem of her raised skirt
she could see her dark triangle.
She moved her legs apart, feeling a definite embarrassment
as she did it because he was kneeling so close to her sex. She
knew he intended to lick her and she wanted it badly. She needed
his wet tongue in there. Maybe his tongue could remove some of
her apprehension, her confusion about what was happening this
evening. She had an urge to move, to push herself forward against
his face, but instead she remained motionless.
And then he did it. He leaned forward and his tongue pushed
into the groove of her sex. At first the matted hair protected
her, but in a moment Paul's fingers slid to the lips of her sex
and gently spread them apart. His fingers combed the hair away
from the trench, and now she was open to him. His thumbs tenderly
spread back the lips, and once more his tongue swept up between
her legs. The broad part of his tongue pressed the lips apart and
rubbed upward over her clitoris. He flicked her clitoris with the
tip of his tongue as he passed over it. Instinctively, Odette
grasped at his head. But then she regretted that because she'd
intended to control herself, and she pulled her hands away as he
continued licking the wet groove.
It occurred to her he did it like a dog. He had a broad flat
tongue and he used it the way a dog would lick a bowl just
emptied of dessert, or the way a male dog would lick a female dog
in heat. The image made Odette shudder with pleasure, and now she
could not help rocking her pelvis gently against his face.
His tongue was persuasive, and gradually she found her
uneasiness about the whole business vanishing. She no longer
thought about Michel and what he might be doing with Paul's wife
and what it would mean later on. Now all she thought about was
the need between her legs, the aching desire building in her sex.
It was Paul she needed now, not Michel.
Paul's licking became more passionate. Odette expected him
to do it only in order to arouse her completely before taking her
to a bed somewhere and possessing her with his stiff penis. But
instead he continued licking her, gripping her buttocks with his
hands as he pulled her sex into his face. His tongue flicked up
and down between her labia. Her clitoris was swollen, turgid with
blood. When he pulled her buttocks apart with his hands, it made
her anus tingle. She felt his fingers sliding into the crack to
lightly poke at her back entrance. His other hand rose between
her parted legs, and then it rose again with a stiff finger that
slid easily inside her wet sex. Meanwhile another finger, a
finger on his other hand, pushed more firmly at her anus, and
suddenly she found herself penetrated in both openings.
"Be careful!" she gasped. She felt the tightness of her
rectum as it grasped at the invading finger. The pleasure was
definite, her body responding to the lewd penetration of both
openings at the same time. And his tongue was still licking her
in front. She relaxed and accepted everything, and soon a long
quiver passed through her as she climaxed. She moaned and held
his head with her hands as she pumped her sex at his mouth.
He continued sucking her until it was finished, and then she
had to push him away to stop him because she was too tender down
there. "No, stop it," she said.
He sat back on his heels and looked at her.
She closed her eyes, aware she was still holding her skirt
above her waist, her naked breasts rising and falling as she
gasped for breath.
Paul said: "I can go on with it."
"Please, no . . . "
When she opened her eyes again, she found he was on his feet
and removing his clothes. Suddenly embarrassed, she allowed her
skirt to drop and she avoided looking at him. In a moment he came
up behind her and he helped her out of her dress. As he did this,
she felt his hard penis pushing against the back of her thigh.
"There's a bedroom through that door," he said. "It's quite
comfortable."
The small bedroom connecting to the living room looked
unused. A guest room. Or maybe a room used exclusively by the
Moulaines for their little sexual adventures. Now Odette wondered
about Michel and Janine again. What were they doing and where
were they doing it? In the master bedroom?
Paul suggested they get on the bed, and she nodded and
allowed him to lead her. He lay her down gently, and immediately
she closed her eyes as he spread her legs apart. She hadn't even
viewed him yet, not one glance at his penis. She thought it would
be better not to look, at least not at first. Then she felt him
mounting her, adjusting himself, and in a moment he grunted as he
pushed his stiff organ inside her passage.
She felt him pushing deep inside her. She felt her sex
stretched open. He did it slowly, which made her thankful because
now she understood his organ was large enough to hurt her. But he
was careful, taking her like a virgin, a few centimeters at a
time. Then she became much too aroused, and with her eyes still
shut she lifted her hips to meet him. She wanted to feel it, feel
every centimeter, but she couldn't bear to look at him. She
couldn't bear to admit the man on top of her was not Michel.
Meanwhile Paul stroked her with penis, a long deep stroking
that reminded her of the way Michel used to make love to her when
they'd first met. She tried to wait for Paul, but it was no use,
and soon she felt herself rising to a climax again. She came
hard, moaning and bucking her pelvis upward, but nothing happened
to Paul, he merely continued thrusting inside her. What a
miracle! she thought. Her orgasm passed and yet the tension
remained. She could feel every nerve on edge. Would it happen
again? As he continued thrusting, she knew the answer was yes.
She closed her eyes tightly as she felt the second peak, an
intense climax that racked all of her body and left her gasping.
And Paul merely continued thrusting!
But before long he stopped. Maybe he could feel it when she
came. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, she could see
he wanted something. What was it? Maybe he wanted to have her on
her belly so he could mount her from behind. Michel did it to her
that way on occasion, even though she thought the position
awkward because Michel's penis sometimes slipped out of her too
easily.
Paul rolled off her and lay on his back. Did he want her to
get on top of him? Michel had tried to get her to do that a few
times, but she always felt foolish. She always ended up on the
bottom when they finally became serious.
Paul said: "Why don't you suck me a little to keep us in
form?"
Keep them in form? She saw a faint smile on his lips, as if
he was amazed by her innocence, her hesitancy. She didn't mind
sucking, but that was something she had done only with Michel.
She had never done it to any man before she met Michel, and she
had done it to Michel only after he'd urged her. And Michel
hadn't even asked for it directly, but merely given her some
clues that he wanted it. The first time she had done it she'd
felt uneasy about it because it was so personal, something the
whores did and not good Catholic girls. She felt uneasy now also.
She wondered if she could really do it with anyone beside Michel.
"I won't force you," Paul said, a hint of disappointment in
his voice.
She was uncertain. She had felt the same uncertainty the
first time she did it with Michel. Her strict Catholic upbringing
was always there in the background, a shadow over everything she
did sexually. Could she ever forget her childhood, the nuns, the
admonitions? But Paul was insisting, and she lacked the resolve
to refuse him. Anyway, she wasn't certain she wanted to refuse
him.
She turned slowly on the bed. Now for the first time she
gazed directly at his erect penis, the rigid member that rose
above his hairy balls. His organ was larger than Michel's, longer
and thicker and with a slight curve to it as it lay over his
belly. She felt a new excitement as she looked at it. She moved
her body again, moved down on the bed to lie with her breasts
pressing against his hairy thighs. The hair made her nipples
tingle. She wondered if he'd object to her doing it only with her
hand. She looked at his penis, at the wetness on the shaft that
had to be lubrication from her sex.
Paul sighed as she curled her fingers around the shaft and
held it. "Go on, put it in your mouth," he said.
She moved her head forward and opened her mouth wide to take
him. Because of its thickness, she had to spread her jaws in
order get the glans inside, but after that she had no difficulty
with it and instinctively she took hold of his big balls and held
them.
Paul grunted, maybe a sound of pleasure, she wasn't sure.
She was now ashamed of the way she'd hesitated before doing it.
What did he think of her? Having his penis in her mouth wasn't
that horrible, especially since he'd licked her sex with such
enthusiasm. What did he want now? She felt him grasping at her
legs, making her turn her body around so he could put his face
between her thighs. He was licking her sex again, his tongue
forceful, his mouth making her abandon her inhibitions. She began
sucking his penis, kissing it, her tongue running up the
underside of the shaft to the glans. The organ jerked and
twitched as she moved her mouth over it. For a moment she was
afraid he would discharge, but then she realized that wouldn't
happen. Gradually she abandoned her restraint as his tongue
continued lapping between her legs. She took his member back
inside her mouth, and with a few short nods of her head she
sucked down on it the way Michel had taught her.
She heard Paul groan, and this time it definitely seemed a
groan of pleasure. Yes, he was pleased with her. That was
important to her because she wanted to please him. He'd already
given her so much pleasure. Her lips closed around the warm shaft
of his penis as she bobbed her head up and down with short
jerking movements. With each nod of her head, her lips covered
more and more of his rigid organ, more and more of his tumescent
flesh jamming into her mouth.
The sucking began to excite her, although she knew the
danger. With Michel she could predict how long he would take
before he ejaculated, but with Paul she had no way of knowing.
Maybe it would happen quickly. But he'd lasted so long inside her
sex, she doubted that. For that reason she felt confident she
could enjoy the sucking and still be safe. She felt daring. Her
head jerked faster and faster as she engulfed more and more of
his penis. The glans pressed against her throat each time her
nose dipped between his balls. His organ was drenched with her
saliva now, the stiff shaft bathed in it. She was too excited to
care about the mess. Even when he suddenly arched his hips, she
hardly noticed it because her head was rocking too fast.
The first gush of sperm splattered her tonsils and almost
made her choke. She pulled back instinctively, but Paul held her
head in place with his hands. His hands were not forceful, only
suggestive. He wanted her to take him completely. When his penis
started spurting again, the surprise was gone and she surrendered
to it. She licked at the slippery globs now filling her mouth.
The taste was a bit different than Michel's sperm, and not at all
disagreeable. Paul groaned as his penis squirted again, and this
time she could feel his sperm spreading across the inside of her
cheek, hot and slick and a bit like the white of an egg. She
sucked his penis until she had it all, and then she rolled her
head away from his loins.
He still had his face between her legs. He'd been licking
her lightly while she had sucked his penis, licking the oozing
flow out of her sex until she was almost dry. Now she could feel
his tongue again as it stroked her and touched her everywhere.
Finished with his penis, she was able now to think only of
herself. She loved it when Michel licked her, but this was a
strange man. Paul was a man she'd never met before, and yet she'd
given him the right to touch her everywhere, all the places where
she loved to be touched. She rolled closer to him as his finger
found the tight opening of her sex. He pushed his finger inside
as she rubbed her breasts against his legs. She allowed him to
open her legs wide. She wanted him there. She wanted all the
attention his tongue could provide.
And his tongue was powerful, probing everywhere, licking the
syrup that flowed out of her. She felt his hand slipping down to
hold her bottom as he licked at her sex. His tongue dabbed
inside, his teeth nibbling at her swollen flesh. Now his finger
wagged in the crack between her buttocks, making her even more
sensitive. She felt so hot and willing, she could hardly believe
any of it.
But it was real. The pleasure began deep inside her empty
vagina. Slowly it flowed down the twitching muscles, each
centimeter flexed in turn, her sex rippling with the aching
sensation. His tongue seemed to burn her clitoris. She felt
herself coming, coming, coming, and she cried out, groaned as she
felt it. Suddenly her backside jerked in the air, but Paul never
stopped licking her sex.
She had to stop him finally. It was more than she could
take. When she pushed his head away, her thighs were soaked.
Her legs unsteady, she rose to go to the bathroom. She was
too embarrassed to look back at him, embarrassed by what she had
done with him. She felt horrible now. She knew he was watching
her as she walked away from him.
She locked herself in the small bathroom adjoining the
bedroom. She wanted to be alone. After using the bidet to clean
herself, she looked at her face in the mirror. She thought she'd
look a wreck, but she didn't. Her skin had a healthy glow that
confused her. One ought to not look so good after just committing
adultery. She used a clean glass to carefully rinse her mouth.
Later, when she was dressed and she and Paul were in the
living room with Michel and Janine, nothing was said and nothing
was suggested. Michel's face appeared blank, and so did Janine's.
Odette had no idea what they had done or what they were thinking,
but she knew her life had changed. Her life would never be the
same again, she was sure of that. All she wanted now was to go
home.

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Last modified (12/24/96 14:11:37) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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