Date: Tue, 18 Sep 2012 10:51:36 +0100
From: Lamort DeLioncourt <lamortdelioncourt1954@hotmail.com>
Subject: St. Moritz--Badrutt?s Palace Hotel Chapter 3

St. Moritz--Badrutt's Palace Hotel
Chapter Three


Jacques had provided soft pillow fluff robes, and as we sat sipping our
wine, John reached over and grabbed them. He slipped into his, and held
mine up so I could slip into it.

John padded slowly over to the French doors, indicating I should follow
him. He opened the doors and we walked out on to the balcony. The air was
absolutely still, and the mist from our exhaled breaths hung frozen in the
air.

It had started snowing, and the view of the lake was stunning. The moon had
fully risen, spreading its glow over the entire scene, reflected by the
stillness of the lake. It was the ultimate in a perfect view. The romance
the scene created was intense, making my heart swell as I gripped tightly
on to John's arm. He pulled me closer to him, and as he exhaled, I could
detect the aroma of the Champagne still on his breath.

We turned to go back inside, and John let his robe slip open, revealing his
softened manliness. I could not help myself, and reached for it
instinctively.  He brushed my hand away and whispered "pas maintenant mon
amour, mais bientôt" (not now my love, but soon). I was surprised that
he had spoken in French, as it was not his native tongue. I had to ask him,
when soon would be. He gave me a wicked smile and winked.

My body always tingled when he spoke French to me. The softness of the
words, and the emotion it conveyed was highly erotic.

Once inside, we picked up our wine glasses, and he refilled them. This
emptied the bottle, and once poured, he returned the bottle to the bucket
in a traditional upside down position. With his free hand, he took mine and
steered us towards the bedroom.

Once inside, he turned and looked, gripping my waist and pulling me to
him. Je t'aime he said softly, I repeated the words of love, and we began a
passionate kiss that could have set the room on fire.

When he broke the kiss, he asked if I would join him in the Jacuzzi
tub. Wasting no time in responding, I nodded my head yes, saying "Je te
suivrai n'importe où mon cher plus amour" (I will follow you anywhere my
dearest love) and went to start the water. Once again, Jacques had
anticipated our needs, and left us yet another bottle of champagne on
ice. I handed the towel and bottle to John, and he wasted no time cracking
the seal and popping its cork. The cork hit the ceiling, and ricocheted
into the tub.  He looked innocent, and said he had intended the cork to
ricochet off the ceiling.


John slipped his robe off, and stood near me in complete nakedness. I could
feel the heat emanating from his body. I reached over the tub, and added
sels de bain parfumés de roses to the water. John took this opportunity
to push my robe aside, and slide his now hardening manhood between the
cheeks of my buttocks. I loved the feel of him between my cheeks, not just
for the feeling of intimacy, but also for the feeling of anticipation. As
he slowly rubbed himself against me, I could feel my sphincter begin the
rhythmic squeezing that signaled my willingness to accept John deeply into
me. I expected him to penetrate me, and prepared myself.

Once again, I was to hear the words pas maintenant mon amour, mais
bientôt. My heart sank, as I was fully prepared to feel John insert
himself into me. He chuckled and told me he had intended to tease me that
love would happen after the Jacuzzi. He told me he wanted time to relax;
his initial need for sexual release had been satisfied.

I felt him pulling at the back of my robe, and I slipped my arms out of
it. Both nude, we stepped into the Jacuzzi. The water was hot and steaming,
the aroma of roses filling the air. As I lowered myself into the tub, I
slipped past John's maleness and took a moment to lick the tip and plant a
quick kiss on it.

As we sat, I took the sea sponge and began to wash John's neck and back. As
I massaged him with the sponge, I allowed myself to slide forward until my
tool was rubbing up against his lower back. Once I had washed his back, I
told him to turn to face me. I was able to wash his face and neck, then
sliding down to his nipples; I gave special attention to them, as I knew
this area to be very sensitive. I continued downward, gently scrubbing his
belly and abdomen. I continued lower, until I had a firm grasp on his
manhood and couilles. I massaged both with gentle loving strokes, and he
began to harden once again. Leaving his hardness floating in the bubbles, I
gently washed his buttocks as he rose up from the tub. When I finished
washing and massaging his feet, he was ready to turn on the jets. As the
jets began streaming into the tub, the bubbles billowed up, and the scent
of roses once again filled the air.

John leaned back against the wall of the tub, and allowed the jets to do
their duty, softening his tightened muscles, and releasing all the tensions
of the trip.

In mere moments, the combinations of three bottles of champagne, and a warm
Jacuzzi, were working their magic on John. He slowly slipped farther into
the tub, as he began falling asleep. I released the plug from the tub and
allowed the water to begin empting. I took hold of John and woke him
gently, getting him to stand while I put his robe on him. I managed to get
him out of the tub and into the bedroom. We swayed to the bed, where I was
able to support him while pulling the covers back. Once the bedding was
ready, I got him to slip out of his robe and lie on the bed. I rolled him
to his side, and pulled the sheets and duvet up over him. Instantly, he was
snoring softly, as his breathing deepened.

I pulled my robe around me, as a chill touched my body. The room seemed
cold as I raised myself out the warm water. I made my way to the living
room and over to the fireplace. I found myself sitting down on the bearskin
rug, gazing into the bright and cheery flames, chasing the chill from me.

I do not know how long I had been sitting there, random thoughts running
through my head, but when I heard a soft knock at the door, I quietly
called out enter, and the door slowly opened.

Jacques, our soft-spoken butler, quietly let himself in. He carried a
silver tray with two steaming cups of chocolat chaud, and a small
assortment of pastries. He lowered his voice even more, once he realized
John was sleeping. He placed the tray on the small table next to the rug. I
smiled at him, telling him "comment le puissant peut être abattu par le
champagne et les bulles Jacuzzi"(how the mighty can be brought down by
champagne bubbles and a Jacuzzi). He smiled back at me nodding his head. He
turned to leave with a parting "bonne nuit, dormez bien (good night, sleep
well).

I turned back to the fireplace and resumed gazing at the flames. Thoughts
of love and passion raced through my head. I sipped the chocolat chaud, and
slowly nibbled on a pastry, as I thought how lucky I was.

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