The next day, Pat showed up with another woman in tow. I didn't want to let them in, but I couldn't say no to my mistress. They had brought lunch for us.

Pat introduced the other woman, Angelique. She was really cute and petite just like a little pixie. Standing a few inches shorter than myself, she wore her brownish hair in a bob that draped around her Audrey Hepburn neck. Her oval face tapered to a slight V at her chin, with a perfectly smooth complexion. I was very envious.

She had succulent lips, even without lipstick. The upper one was slightly thicker than the lower one - not too big or too small, just Goldilocks' right. It went perfectly with that little turned up thin nose and the biggest brown eyes I'd ever seen. She was just lovely. My husband would have enjoyed ogling this beautiful young woman.

Her legs were displayed nicely in a pair of skinny black pants that clung to her narrow hips and bubble butt posterior. Her feet were nestled in comfy looking grey flats. A red blouse covered her torso and a petitely flowered scarf was slung loosely around her shoulders.

Her mouth opened and a delightful French accent spilled forth like an avalanche of sensuality.

"Hel- low, bonjour. C'est agréable de vous rencontrer." (Nice to meet you.)

I adored her immediately.

Pat took hold of Angelique's arm and led her to the living room sofa then ordered, "Kathy, get us some drinks, something with a kick."

I returned with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and three glasses. Filling all the glasses, we began our introductory conversation.

After eating our panini and snacking on a baguette or two, I was more impressed with this new woman. Her English was impeccable but with that sexy French accent. I was taken with her sensuality and worldliness. From our conversation, I discovered that she was a twenty-three-year-old third-grade teacher at Ecole Saint Dominique Primaire et Maternelle in Dijon (like the mustard). She was visiting the US on summer break and just loved the openness of the US, both the spacious topography and idealism.

She seemed a little shy; maybe it was being in an unfamiliar country or maybe she just needed someone to guide her. I wondered how Pat knew all these interesting people. We were all feeling the three glasses of wine and laughter was coming easily.

Pat looked at Angelique, saying to my embarrassment, "Kathy is my slave. Isn't that right, Kathy?"

I felt my face flush with heat as I turned beet red, but Pat's eyes bore down on me.

I reluctantly replied softly, "Yes, my mistress."

Pat snapped back, "I didn't hear you, my little cunt."

As my eyes sank to the floor, I answered louder, "Yes, my mistress."

Pat pulled up her skirt, sans panties, and spread her legs, saying, "I want you to eat me."

I rose from the overstuffed chair and positioned myself between her legs. I had to obey her. After all, she was my mistress.

Positioning herself on the edge of the sofa, she pulled my face to her cunt as I lapped at her juices. I heard her ask Angelique, "Do you want her to eat you?"

"No, that's alright, but thanks for the offer."

Pat replied, "I don't think that's an option, my little croissant."

Pat stared at Angelique.

She stood and took her pants and undies off. Pat had this gorgeous French girl under her control, too. As I kept lapping at Pat's slit, Angelique did what was expected.

She was lovely with or without clothes. With a European full bush that was trimmed nicely around the edges, it didn't look like you were going off-road into the wilds of nature.

I continued licking and sucking Pat's cunt until she came loudly and slid her slit up and down my face, covering me with her orgasm.

"Whew! That was great. Now, do Angelique and show her how good of a teacher I am."

I slowly approaching this French pastry; she tentatively spread her legs as if she wasn't sure what to expect. I slipped my hands up each snowy leg, starting from her knee. When they were halfway up, I leaned forward and began kissing her soft flesh about mid-thigh. It tasted like peaches, so delicately sweet. I began to get wet. My lips moved to her other leg and began the same treatment while my free hand stroked her inner thigh with a feather light touch. She squirmed with acceptance.

After about ten minutes of teasing, my tongue flicked the crease between her legs. Her dampness and the excitement was evident.

Licking my fingers, I lightly slid them over her pink wet lips. With an unrelenting motion, I circled her labia, which caused her breathing to increase to almost panting. I would hear a deep sigh every minute or two. She was relishing the treatment I was giving her. I had to be great for my mistress, but most of all, I really wanted it for myself. I needed to please this charming French porcelain doll, whose legs I found myself nestled between.

Suddenly, a feeling flowed over me like a tidal wave; it was the desire to completely possess her. There would be no escape for her from my wanton desires. She would be MY slave to do my bidding. At once, I understood Pat's motivation and obsession to own me and my husband. With this new realization firmly implanted in my consciousness, I knew it was time.

My tongue extended and the tip found her clit. I flicked at it like a snake tasting the air. You would have thought that I'd unexpectedly set off a firecracker by the way she nearly jumped off the sofa. I owned her now, and I wasn't going to let her get away without tasting her orgasm.

I started my tongue at her pucker muscle and slurped at it as she wriggled between my arms. Moving up to her slit and using a lot of oral lubricant, I lapped up and down on it like a lion with a fresh antelope. Much to my pleasure, she was pinching and pulling her nipples and began screaming and cumming.

I clamped my arms down on her legs so as to not let her get away from my feverish attack on her juicer, licking, sucking and lapping up her juices as they flowed freely like an artesian fountain. She tasted sweet and delicate like a true "French" pastry. She just melted in my mouth.

In the background, I guess Pat was impressed. I heard her say, "I don't think she's ever eaten me with such ferocity. Angelique, you're getting extra special treatment."

I don't know how long I was embedded in Angelique's cunt, but forever wouldn't have been long enough.

Pat finally grabbed my hair and pulled me out, saying, "Kathy, let her catch her breath."

I looked up from my knees with my face covered with spit and cum, Angelique was reclining exhausted on the sofa. She had the most satiated grin float across her lips. Her legs were languishingly spread before me, cunt hair matted by my spit. There was no modesty left; she was completely comfortable spread out before me like a scrumptious dessert.

Lightly sliding my fingers up and down her dripping slit, I tried to memorize every detail of her. Her cunt was mine if I wanted it, and I did. I wanted her to belong to me like I belonged to Pat. Pat and Angelique spent the rest of the day. We did things, a lot of things, to each other. It was wonderful, and she was ALL mine for the summer.