A Parisian Morning

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I awake to find her staring out the window at the sun rising over Paris. God, I can’t believe I’m in Paris. What’s more, I can’t believe I’m with her. Simone. I say her name aloud just to confirm I’m not dreaming.

She turns around and smiles at me. She’s clad in only a short floral print silk robe that just comes below her ass. She’s holding a cigarette in her right hand and takes a lazy draw on it. Her brown hair is long and straight, draping around her face. Her green eyes dance with mirth and the promise of revisiting what we had done all night long. Her body was lean and tight. That gorgeous slimness that Western European women possess.

The night before, I didn’t even know her name. Just a lone woman that had run afoul of a mugger. I, being more chivalrous than smart, had intervened and saved the damsel in distress. Or at least the damsel’s purse. Despite my atrocious French, I managed to get her to let me buy her a glass of wine and walk her home.

Before I knew what was going on, we were tearing off each other’s clothes and fucking like wild animals in her cheap, but neat apartment. Conversation had been sparse, owing to my bad French and her poor English. But we communicated in a language as old as the human race.

Simone put her cigarette in her mouth and used her free hands to undo her robe, revealing her flawlessly thin body and pert little breasts. I was already hard and she wasted no time in mounting me. She puffed on the cigarette as she worked her body up and down my shaft. Soon she was coming, screaming “Oui!” through her clenched lips. Finally, she put the cigarette out on the bedside table and began to fuck me in earnest.

Simone was a goddess, lean and hungry. I couldn’t tell if she’d done this often, but she definitely knew how to make love. Wild and passionate and without restraint. I wondered if all French women were this hot.

I could feel myself coming close to climax. Simone too, seemed poised for a second when halkalı escort a hard, angry banging came from the front door.

Simone’s apartment was a cheap, Parisian place. What would be called a “Studio apartment” back in the States. As a result her bed (a fold out couch) wasn’t far from the front door and we both started at the noise.

I panicked for a moment. A boyfriend? A husband? I really didn’t know anything about Simone. Had I just fucked a married woman?

“Simone!” came a husky, but definitely female voice from the other side of the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then panicked again when I thought about it being Simone’s girlfriend.

Simone sighed and pull off my rock-hard member. I groaned as she did. She made a sympathetic face and said, in her heavily accented way, “Sorry.” She scooped my pants off the floor and tossed them to me.

“Simone!” came the voice again.

“Merde!” Simone swore. “Monique! Un moment!”

I pulled my pants on and she threw the robe on, but didn’t tie it all the way. I was about to say something, but I was lost for the right words. She pulled open the door and a dark-haired beauty forced her way in. Simone sighed, but closed the door after the other woman came in.

I looked the new woman up and down. She was clad in a tight miniskirt and a tight t-shirt along with a leather jacket and boots. She wasn’t quite as “French” as Simone, bearing wider hips and a fuller chest than my lover. Her skin was darker, either tanned or just ethnically different. Maybe she was from Southern France or closer to Spain.

Simone pointed to the new woman, “Monique,” then pointed at me, “David.” Then reversed it, “David, Monique.” She said my name, not in that bland English way “day-vid” but in that delightful French pronunciation, “Dah-veed.” I’m not sexy, so I take it where I can.

Monique looked me up and down with a combination of curiosity olgun escort and disdain. Clearly, she was more French than I had given her credit.

Then the darker woman spun on the half-dressed Simone and proceeded to talk, animatedly and angrily. At first I though Monique was mad at Simone, but the look on my lover’s face said that there was something else bothering her friend.

I couldn’t make out the conversation, as it launched into that warp speed mode that Romance languages excel at. Finally the pace slowed down and Simone hugged the other woman, took off her jacket and kissed her on the lips. I was already still quite aroused, so it didn’t take much to make me hard again.

Simone whispered into Monique’s ear and both girls giggled. Then Monique took another look at me, this time with a look that was more…predatory. Yeah, definitely more French than I had originally thought.

She started towards the bed, pulling off her shirt, then her bra. Next her skirt and panties, leaving only her boots on. Simone had dropped her robe and made it to the bed first where she kissed me while pulling my pants off. Once I was naked, Simone pushed me onto the bed. Monique was over me, her dark skin and ample breasts just inches from me. She slid down and took my engorged member into her mouth while Simone kissed me long and hard while she stroked my chest.

I groaned with delight as the women worked me over. My face was occupied with Simone’s so, I could not watch Monique’s work on my manhood. I could feel her mouth pull away, replaced by her soft hands. The sensation changed again to tight, wet heat and I could feel Monique’s hips on my own. She was heavier than Simone. Not fatter, just sturdier, more muscle and a lot more breast.

Simone broke off our kiss to watch her friend enjoy herself upon my shaft. I laid back and watched Monique şişli escort play with her breasts and cunt as she worked herself up and down on me.

I could feel I was close, but her rhythm kept me just shy of a climax. I didn’t mind, I wanted to be here forever. Simone stroked my chest and eventually wandered her hands down to play with Monique’s clit and the base of my cock.

After several minutes of this, Monique pinched her own nipples and cried out my name. Hot juices dripped out of her pussy, coating me as came. She was panting and smiling as she pulled off my cock. I let out another moan of dismay, but she quelled it with a hot, deep kiss.

After she pulled back, Monique pointed to her mouth then pointed to Simone’s mouth with a questioning look. I was confused so she repeated the movement, this time pointing at my cock first, then each others mouths.

I smiled and pointed a finger at each of them.

They giggled and Monique got to work sucking my cock in earnest. Then Simone would take a turn, then Monique, then Simone.

They alternated for several minutes until I moaned out “Je suis…Je suis…” I couldn’t think straight, but the ladies got the idea and Monique pumped my cock until I shot my load into her open mouth. “Fuck!” I cried out as I finished.

Monique smiled, then leaned over a prone Simone, dribbling my semen out of her mouth and into Simone’s open mouth. Both of them swallowed with exaggerated pleasure and then giggled again.

I laid back and drifted off to sleep, my mind, officially, blown.

When I came around, I found both of the women at a tiny kitchen table, sipping coffee and chatting. Simone had put on her silk robe again, but Monique had procured my dress shirt from the night before. I glanced at the clock. It was midmorning, but I really had not plans for the day.

The women caught sight of me getting out of bed and got up, shaking their heads. “Non, non!”

“But…” I started to speak. My stomach growled and the coffee and pastries on the table looked very tempting.

Monique was kissing me, pushing me onto the bed as Simone pulled off her robe and started to suck my cock.

My resistance died and laid back to let them use me. I might not make it home again. Hell, I might starve to death before the week was out. But one thing was certain. I would die happy.

Vive la France!

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