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A Parisian Interlude

Her chance encounter leads to a hot afternoon
It was one of their occasional confession sessions. They did that from time to time. Em had come rather late to the infidelity scene. Ambrose had been an occasional player on that circuit for a long time. He was older by a decade-plus.

This time they were sitting over the dinner table at home on a Saturday night not long after they’d returned from a European holiday. They were well fed and had several wines each to their credit and were chatting about their trip.

Em and Ambrose liked going on holiday together. Their working lives were complicated by separate business travel requirements and very stretchy working hours.

“Ambrose,” said Em, using the small voice that he knew from experience meant she was about to tell him a sexual secret.

“Yes, Em,” Ambrose replied, smiling.

“You remember that afternoon in Paris when you went to the Louvre. I said I’d changed my mind and didn’t want to go,” Em said.

“Yes, Em,” Ambrose responded, this time with a laugh. “What about it? I had a good time that afternoon. I always like to revisit the Louvre when I’m in Paris. Did you have a good time that afternoon?”

Em looked down at the table and then raised her eyes to look him straight in the face.

“I did, Ambrose.”

Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Well are you going to tell me about it?” he asked.

“Sometimes you tell me about your little adventures. I like that. A hot night in some hotel somewhere is not important. Well, not to anyone who wasn’t there, I mean. Only an affair would be important and then only because it implicitly involves gross ongoing deceit. You know my views on that.”

Ambrose sometimes spoke with editorial gravitas. It came with his job.

“So tell me, if you want to.”

Em looked down at the table again and played with the remains of her table setting, then took a long swig of wine from her glass, emptying it.

“Pour me another wine Ambrose, please,” she said.

He did so and refilled his glass too.

Em looked a little uncertain. That was generally out of character, but Ambrose let it go. He just said, “Okay. Shoot.”

“Well,” said Em, “you went out around lunchtime. You said you’d spend two or three hours at the Louvre and then you were meeting Ao for a coffee.”

Ao was a decorous Vietnamese lady banker Ambrose had known for years and who was by chance in Paris at the same time. Em had always suspected that Ao had produced a wet patch or two in Ambrose’s business trip beds, but he’d never said so.

She continued, “I went back to that little bistro we’d been to the afternoon before. It was a lovely, lively little place. We met that touring Latin American rock group there, remember?”

“I remember,” said Ambrose. “They were fun. The lead guitarist took a shine to you. We talked about that later, over dinner. You got hot for him too, I think.”

Em smiled across the table. “I did, Ambrose. That’s why I went back to the bistro.”

Ambrose said, “I see. Well do I get to hear the details?”

“Only if you want to, Ambrose,” said Em.

“Of course I want to,” said Ambrose. “That is, if you want to tell me the details, which I don’t think you do very often.” He broke off. Then he said, “Do you?”

Em said, “No. Often I don’t.”

It was her turn to pause. She sipped her wine.

“Well...” she said and paused again. “Okay. I’d quietly arranged to meet Luís. I cornered him at the bar while you weren’t looking. I said if the band was there the next day I’d drop in to see them.

“He said they wouldn’t be. But he would be there if I was. Then he said he’d like to fuck me. That’s exactly what he said. And I said I’d like him to fuck me. He put his hand up my skirt and pushed two fingers into my panties. He got a big bulge in his pants when he discovered I was already wet. He said, 'Very nice. You have a hot Brazilian.' And then he added, 'I would like to eat your pussy.'"

Ambrose raised another eyebrow. “I imagine a lot of men would like to do that, Em.”

Em said, “A lot of men do. Very few get their wish.”

“But Luís did,” said Ambrose.

“Yes, Luís did. When he told me I had a hot Brazilian, I just melted and wanted to swallow his cock and for him to fuck me senseless somewhere, as soon as possible.”

Ambrose felt his cock stiffening. Em really was a seriously sexy woman. “And did you? And did he?” he asked throatily.

“Yes. And yes. Three times,” said Em.

“I see,” said Ambrose. “This would have been while I was smiling at the Mona Lisa.”

Em laughed. “Perhaps, or maybe you were looking in on Louis XV by then or at some Vietnamese treasure.” She paused. "You met Ao? You were quite late back.”

“I saw Ao. We had a coffee and a chat and that went on a while until the early diners started arriving. Ao had something to go to that evening and I needed to get back to go to dinner with you,” Ambrose said.

It was Em’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Ambrose smiled and said, “We did it once, Em. It was a long time ago and that’s all either of us wanted. We’re just really good friends, that’s all. But tell me more about your afternoon.”

She looked at him. She smiled. “We’d said we’d meet at one o’clock. You left about twelve thirty. I’d told you I’d probably go to the bistro for lunch while you were out so I was dressed and ready to go when you were leaving.

“It was quite a warm day and the bistro was just round the corner from our hotel. So I’d decided to wear that nice above-the-knee flowery dress I like to take on trips with me. It flounces nicely. You like it.”

Ambrose said, “I do. It’s a very sexy dress.”

“It is,” said Em. “It’s even sexier without underwear. When you left I quickly took my bra and panties off and put them back in the drawer. I had been fantasizing about how Luís would look when I told him at the bistro that I was naked under my dress.”

Ambrose said, “Are you always as sexy as that when you have a little adventure, Em?” He smiled at her again.

Em smiled back. “I am always very sexy if I have a little adventure, Ambrose. It may not be as often as you think it is though.”

“Em!” said Ambrose. “Come on. You travel a lot. You’re an attractive woman. I know, and you know too, that there’s at least one in every crowd, one man who will make a pass. We both know what it’s like on the business travel circuit.”

“Yes Ambrose,” said Em. “But you don’t always make a pass at a woman, do you?”

“Of course not,” Ambrose said with a smile. “These days it’s often the other way round.”

They laughed together. Ambrose poured more wine, even though Em was beginning to sound a bit blurry. He smiled to himself and thought, “Em has always thought she can drink but she can’t really. Not beyond the standard mark for females on a weight for age basis.”

Em was thirty-two and very trim. Not really drinking material.

“Do you do that, Em? Make passes at men, I mean?”

“Very, very rarely,” she said. “I like to be hunted. I don’t so much like being the hunter.”

“But you flirt, Em,” said Ambrose. “I’ve seen you do it. And you must have plenty of opportunities on your travels.”

Em said, “I flirt, yes, sometimes. But hardly ever with all-the-way intent.”

They paused again. Further refills of wine glasses were needed. Then Em returned to her narrative.

“Yes, I travel a lot,” said Em. “Two or three overseas business trips a year and a lot of travel within the country. But I’m on a budget.”

“And what is that budget, Em?” Ambrose asked.

Em laughed. “Not more than two a year.”

“Well that’s a nicely manageable quota,” said Ambrose brightly, though he didn’t necessarily believe it. “Does that include hot massages late at night in your room?”

Em blushed. She had convinced herself that Ambrose didn’t know about those. He knew she liked massage. She had thought he believed that all of them were straight. She made a mental note to work on her little-fibs telephone presentation.

Then she said, “No.”

“And what about them then?” said Ambrose.

“Most trips,” said Em. “Though if it’s a short trip sometimes not.”

Ambrose looked at her, suddenly burning as a mental picture flashed through his brain of Em being erotically massaged naked on her hotel bed and then being hotly fucked. He had always got off on the thought of Em enjoying the sexual attentions of another man.

It was his favourite masturbation fantasy. Sometimes he fantasized that he was Em on that hotel bed, stripped naked, legs thrown wide, being very hotly massaged indeed. Those climaxes were always his hottest.

He smiled to himself. He loved her completely and she was really was sexy and he was so glad that they were together. They were soon to mark ten years of shared and separate misadventures.

“So tell me all about your afternoon with Luís,” he said, shifting in his chair as his cock grew ramrod stiff. “And then I’ll fuck your brains out too.”

Em blew him a kiss across the table. “I love it when you fuck my brains out Ambrose. But I’ll tell you the story first.”

Then she asked, “Are you very erect? I am naked under my dress.”

And Ambrose said, “God, you’re a sexy woman Em.”

She blew him another kiss.

“I really don’t often do this,” Em said to Ambrose. “But the moment I saw Luís I knew I had to have his cock inside me. He was so vital, so energized. He was so alive. I was immediately wet between my legs when we first made eye contact. I pictured myself being fucked in hot, coarse Spanish. I couldn’t help it. I had to shag him.”

Ambrose smiled his world-weary smile, the one that both entranced and enraged Em. “I know,” he said. “Just like that tango dancer in Buenos Aires.”

Em looked up, startled. She’d thought she’d hidden that little episode too. It was from a long holiday seven years previously. And only once, and a quickie at that, one evening when they’d been out to dinner and Ambrose had been tired and had gone back to their apartment.

And she had stayed on to tango.

“Em, it’s okay. It’s never been a problem. You fuel my fantasies with your occasional little adventures. It’s only very rarely that I don’t know when something’s been up, in a manner of speaking. I’m sure you’re the same. We do know each other rather well.”

She blushed. “We might come back to that, Ambrose."

Now, about Paris," she said.

She had met Luís at the bistro as arranged. He was already there when she arrived. She could feel his eyes x-raying her as she approached the table. She felt naked under his gaze.

She liked that. Her nipples and her pussy did too.

He bought drinks – he asked for a beer and she ordered a pastis – and they sat at the table he had selected, towards the back of the bistro. Where it was darker, where they could be touch each other without being seen.

Luís had kissed her on the mouth. He had at least a three-day growth of beard. It prickled. Em imagined it exciting her pussy. Her nipples were like little rocks in the top of her dress. Luís noticed this and, leaning towards her to block any possible view by others in the bistro, slid a hand in and cupped her left breast.

“You are naked up top, no bra” he said, his eyes widening and getting smoky with lust. He licked his lips and pinched her nipple. Em nearly came.

“I am naked down below too, Luís,” she whispered in his ear.

He looked at her, astonished, plainly brimful with lust. He kissed her. His hot, long tongue pushed her lips apart and opened her mouth. He thrust his tongue fully into her mouth and with passionate, rapid, random movements more or less tongue-fucked her mouth. She thought of him doing that to with her pussy and desperately wanted him to do that to her right now.

He was still pinching her left nipple and caressing her left breast with one hand down the top of her dress. She wondered idly if any of the other customers had noticed and then decided she didn’t care.

She felt his other hand push upwards under the skirt of her dress. Her pussy muscles tightened and then released and she felt slick hot wetness moistening the uppermost parts of her inner thighs. She opened her legs a little. Luís slipped three slick fingers into her slit, expertly found her clit, and excited it until she came. It was a dreadful struggle to come quietly.

But she managed. They recovered their composure and Luís paid the bill. He kissed her lightly on the lips and said, “I have to fuck now.”

And Em said, “Of course you do. But I have to eat your cock first.”

Luís’s eyes closed when she said that. He said, “Aah.” Then he said, "You must do that very soon."

Em said, “Certainly I must do that very soon. Shall we go to your hotel now?”

Luís looked momentarily alarmed. He said, "We cannot go to my hotel. I have people there staying with me."

Em looked at him. She hadn’t thought about that. But she had to have his cock. She had to eat it and then receive it into her cunt. She had to come wildly and loudly on his thick, quick shaft as they climaxed together. At least once. Hopefully twice. If she was really lucky, three times.

“Then we’ll have to go to my hotel then Luis. Fortunately there is no one there today.” She smiled. “He has gone to the Louvre. The hotel’s not far. It’s a nice cloistered little place, very private. We can walk there in five minutes. You can tell me on the way exactly how you’re going to fuck me when we get to the room.”

He did.

Em paused in her narrative, glanced quickly at Ambrose, and said, "I was a wreck by the time we got there.”

And Ambrose said, “So what happened then?”

Em took on a dreamy expression and then closed her eyes. She was constructing her narrative. Ambrose had asked so she would tell him. She would tell him everything. She would leave nothing out. Luís hadn’t. She remembered that with a hot stab of passion.

“I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, Ambrose. I told you that when you got back from your outing.”

Ambrose looked at her with a fixed stare. “Yes you did,” he said. “But you didn’t say you’d spent the rest of the afternoon in bed with Luís. Moreover, in our bed with Luís.”

“Are you angry about that, Ambrose?” Em asked in a small voice.

“No. I’m sure if I did that you’d have my balls, but no. I am very aroused by the pornographic images in my mind of you and a lover thrashing around in our bed. Did you completely wreck the bed?”

Em chuckled. Ambrose loved it when she did that. “We did. I had to make an excuse with housekeeping and get them to change it. I was terrified you would notice that the sheets were slightly different.”

It was Ambrose’s turn to chuckle. “I did, Em. But I am the soul of discretion.”

“You knew?” asked Em.

“Of course I knew. I’ve never met a woman who can hide the subconscious afterglow of hot sex. Sometimes that effect can last for days. And the bed change was a dead giveaway.” Ambrose looked at Em and smiled. “I am very aroused, Em. I shall have to take you to the bedroom very soon and lick you all over and especially all over your hot little pussy. But first you must tell me your pornographic story. That’s if you want a really hot licking.”

Em did want a really hot licking.

“He had my dress off by the time he’d closed the door to our room,” she said.

“He went over to the bed and pulled the cover and top sheet down. He came back and picked me up. He was very strong. He put his fingers in me and played with my clit while he carried me to the bed, and bit my nipples too.

“He put me down gently on the bed and pushed my legs wide apart. He said, ‘I must look at you.’ And I said, ‘I must look at you too.’ He stood at the end of the bed and stripped naked. He was so aroused his cock was vertical, flattening his lush black pubic hair, its top wetly glistening with pre-cum.

“I said to him, I want that in my mouth now,’ and he made a little passionate noise and straddled me sixty-nine style. I took his cock in my mouth, all eight inches of it. He shouted with pleasure and then sank his lips and tongue and teeth into my pussy.

“He tongue-fucked me so beautifully. He was very strong but gentle. It was even better than I had dreamed it would be. I was pinching my nipples. They were as hard as pebbles. He broke off briefly when I gave him my hot cock special. You know it, tongue and teeth tightly up and down his shaft. He shouted ‘God!’ and returned his tongue and teeth to my cunt and hotly, quickly tongue-fucked me to climax.

“Now he was cock-fucking my mouth. He was huge and so excited. I bit into his cock and held it still in my mouth and massaged his balls. He was getting frantic. He was a big man but I had the strength of ecstasy and I rolled him over, so I was on top.

“I went down on his shaft while he licked my pussy and pushed a finger up my ass. When he climaxed he pulled his cock out of my mouth and put it between my breasts. He pushed them together and pumped huge gouts of hot salty cum into my cleavage.”

Ambrose looked at Em with a faraway look in his eyes and said, “And then?”

“And then he fucked me, Ambrose. Twice. Missionary and doggy. I took his hot cum inside me both times. I wanted raw cock. “

“That was after a little intermezzo when he kissed me all over. He bit me gently behind the knees. That was so erotic. He sucked my toes and licked my breasts and navel. He turned me over and gently bit my ass and rimmed me. He blew little vespers of his hot breath into my pussy.

“I stroked his cock and sucked his balls and finger-fucked him up the ass. That’s when his cock woke up again.”

Ambrose said, “And your third fuck?”

Em said, “In the shower later, all soapy and slick.”

And Ambrose said, “No wonder you were glowing when I got back.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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