The cool night air rocked the luxury yacht in the Monte Carlo harbour. Philip’s tongue slid over Jodie Adam’s smooth, delicious pussy, moistening her smooth skin. He slipped his tongue between her folds and nibbled her clit. Her head swung back in ecstasy as he went deeper.

Phillip felt a surge of wetness as Jodie silently moaned. He could taste her cum. She pushed his head back as her satisfied, wet pussy became sensitive. Philip got up off his knees and wiped his mouth. He undid his trousers and pulled out his hardened cock. Jodie couldn’t wait to devour it inside her. Slowly, he pushed it against her opening, spreading her pussy lips. She felt such rapture as his member disappeared inside her, sliding against the wet walls of her pussy. Shivers ran through her body as he grinded deeper in her hole

“Promise me, you won’t cum inside me,” Jodie whispered.

“Why?” Philip asked.

“Well, you normally release a heavy load when you cum. I am not wearing underwear, and this dress is short. I can’t handle semen oozing out of me for the rest of the night.”

“What do you suggest? I am close.”

Jodie jolted forward and pushed Philip on the bed. As he fell on his back, she got on top of him, facing him, her beautiful, pedicured feet in flat white sandals in his face. He started kissing her feet as she rubbed his cock between her bare thighs. Soon he erupted, splattering Jodie's legs with his warm, thick, white cum.

Jodie swung her body off Phillip, grabbed some tissues and mopped up his load off her bare legs. She pulled her jade dress down her body while Phillip put his cock away. The two then left their host’s secluded master bedroom and returned to the party on the deck.

Philip's eyes were transfixed on Jodie as she mingled with the crowd. Her tight jade dress that stopped half down her thighs, her long, smooth, bare legs. Her sexy little feet in her while flat slider leather sandals. Her toes were painted a bright, shiny red.

As the party was ending, Jodie said her goodbyes and kissed Philip goodnight. He wanted more but knew Jodie had an early start.

Ulysses, her faithful chauffeur, was waiting. He opened the door to her red Ferrari Purosangue, and Jodie settled in the back. Ulysses moved round to the front, and they drove back to her villa. The whole way, he said nothing, which was very unlike him.

“Are you OK?” Jodie asked.

“Yes, fine,” he confirmed.

Her chauffeur was usually unshakable, a calm presence behind the wheel and a discreet shadow at her side, yet lately something about him had seemed strained. She wondered whether he was unwell, troubled, or simply hiding more than he cared to admit.

The sun was hot the following day, the harbour was busy, crammed with people who flocked every year for the Monaco Grand Prix.

Two men drank their red-coloured Monaco beers over idle chatter. Ulysses had to tell someone. He pondered whether Rock could be trusted, given who Ulysses worked for, but he had to tell someone what was going on in his head.

“Jodie's got me all twisted up lately,” he started

“I am not surprised; she is one of the hottest women on the planet,” Rock replied.

“She wears more and more provocative, sexy outfits,” Ulysses continued.

Rock's eyebrows shot up, leaning in. “Damn, Ulysses. What's the deal?”

Ulysses shook his head, eyes distant, cock twitching at the thought of her.

“I want to fuck her, but she is Jodie Adams and my boss.”

Jodie Adams was the ‘It Girl’ every tabloid in the world followed. A world-famous model, whom men desired and women emulated.

“I want to fuck her too; she is hot. I would take the opportunity if you can,” Rock replied, thinking this wasn’t a problem at all.

“I have worked as her chauffeur for years, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do it. She trusts me, and I don’t want to break that trust. It’s a code,” Ulysses said, taking a mouthful of beer.

“Code, what are you talking about. Just do it!”

Ulysses was quickly realising Rock didn’t appreciate his dilemma.

“Also, she is seeing this Phillip guy.”

Jodie visited the Grand Prix every year. For her, it was paramount how she looked and what she wore. She wanted some opinions and was texting everyone.

Ulysses’ phone buzzed on the table, cutting through the low murmur of the crowd like a spark. He glanced down, and Jodie's name lit up the screen. It was like she knew she was being talked about. Attached were two photos

‘What do you think of this outfit?’ an accompanying WhatsApp read.

The first showed her stretched in a blue dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her body glowed under the soft lamp light, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. Her legs were parted just enough to tease the shadow between her thighs, one hand trailing down her flat stomach. Ulysses’ cock twitched in his trousers.

His eyes were glued to the second image: a close-up of her feet in designer light blue high-heeled sandals. Jodie's soles arched gracefully, toes painted a deep crimson. Her arches and delicate heels are begging to be touched.

‘It looks beautiful, perfect for the Grand Prix. What will you wear with it?’ Ulysses shot back a message.

‘You know me, probably nothing.’ Jodie sent back with a smiley face.

Ulysses and Jodie had been through a lot over the years, particularly the numerous men who came and went in Jodie’s life. Ulysses had seen her exposed and experienced her sexual encounters in the back of the car. From light fingering to naked intercourse, he witnessed it all. She hadn’t thought twice about being so provocative in his presence. 

Ulysses shifted in his seat and put his mobile away. He needed to stop thinking about her like this, certainly for today, and enjoy the evening.

A sexy, slender figure entered the outdoor bar. Long legs in a black skirt, blue crop top hugging full tits that strained the fabric—nipples faintly visible. Her hair cascaded in dark waves, framing a face with sharp cheekbones and full lips painted red. Their eyes locked, intense, electric. She smirked, recognising Ulysses instantly.

Tessa, an old flame from a few years ago, wild weekends of all-night fucks in her hotel room, filled his mind. She'd ride him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing, screaming his name until neighbours banged on the walls. Ulysses’ pulse kicked up, cock stirring through the Jodie haze. Tessa sauntered over, hips swaying, confidence radiating like she knew exactly the effect she had. Her red stilettos gleamed in the sunlight, her long bare legs parting slightly as she sat alone at the table next to the two men. She then crossed them with deliberate slowness, her foot arched high in the stiletto, toes flexing to deepen her great-toe cleavage.

“Ulysses? Fuck me, it's been a few years?” Her husky voice called across.

“Come and join us,” Ulysses replied.

Suddenly, Jodie wasn’t in his mind; this was the distraction he needed.

“This is Rock,” Ulysses said, introducing his friend.

Rock got up, kissed her on the cheek; she smelled so good. He offered to get some drinks. The bar was more crowded than earlier, and there was no sign of service, forcing Rock to walk to the other end.

Ulysses’ mind flashed back to the tiny thongs he remembered Tessa wearing, barely qualifying as underwear. Memories of her bending over, her short dresses riding up just enough to reveal the thin strip of lace wedged between her firm ass cheeks. It was so small that a scrap of fabric clung desperately to her pussy. It made him wonder what she was wearing under that skirt.

She caught him staring, turning with a sly smile, her stiletto dangling as she flexed her foot. She uncrossed her legs; the hem of her dress crept up, showing the sheer red G-string that vanished into her cleft, the back string lost in the curve of her ass. She leaned back, spreading her knees, letting Ulysses glimpse her juices darkening the fabric.

“It's riding up,” she whispers, her fingers dipping down to adjust it, pulling the string taut so it presses into her asshole, making her squirm and bite her lip.

Memories flooded back as Tessa's fingers grazed Ulysses’ zipper. Ulysses’ hand instinctively gripped her bare thigh, feeling the taut muscle flex under his palm, her skin silky and heated. Tessa's eyes locked on his, laced with promise.

“Want to feel these legs wrapped around you?” Her free hand cupped her own breast, thumb circling her stiff nipple through her top, arching her back to push her cleavage toward him.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then we should meet up soon.”

Rock returned with two Monaco beers and a Disaronno. Tessa quickly downed her drink, thanked the men, and kissed them goodbye.

Jodie emerged in her blue dress, her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. Her feet looked sexy in the blue high-heeled sandals.

“Good morning,” Ulysses said, opening the car door.

Jodie got in the back, and Ulysses took up his position behind the wheel.

“You know I don’t believe you; something is up. What is it?”

“Nothing, honestly,” Ulysses replied.

“Bullshit, tell me.”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

“No, you know me.”

“I keep having thoughts about you. Sexual thoughts,” Ulysses replied.

“Is it me or my lack of underwear?”

Ulysses didn’t answer her question.

Just then, he got a text from Tessa telling him to meet her at the Grand Prix.

“I don’t know,” Ulysses finally answered.

The rest of the journey was silent. He dropped Jodie off, took the car back to the villa, quickly changed, and went to meet Tessa. Ulysses' mind started to fill with thoughts of Tessa; maybe it was just the idea of Jodie’s naked pussy that got him going. It would get any red-blooded man going.

There she was, getting out of her white car, in a short white linen skirt and a grey top that hugged her curves, hair tied back, looking every bit the sexy spectator.

“Fancy meeting you here. Stalking me?”

Ulysses grinned, stepping close, the crowd parting around them. His hand grazed her lower back, possessively pulling her against his side. The heat of her body ignited him as his cock hardened.

The car echoed through as Ulysses and Tessa strolled along the perimeter track, the summer heat making the air thick and charged. Her skirt hugged her hips; white wedge sandals elevated her long legs, showcasing her arched feet nestled perfectly. The straps crisscrossed over her instep, and her toes—painted a deep blue—peeked out, flexing slightly with each step on the gravel path. Ulysses couldn't tear his eyes away from how the wedges forced her calves to tauten, her heels lifted high, making her ass sway enticingly under the skirt. His pulse quickened at the sight of her bare skin, remembering those tiny thongs that had driven him wild.

“Tessa, what kind of panties are you wearing under that skirt?”

She slowed her pace, a wicked grin spreading across her lips as she turned to face him, one hand trailing down her thigh to toy with the skirt's edge.

“Curious, huh? Why don't you guess?”

“I bet it's one of those barely-there strings, riding up your ass crack, getting soaked just from walking like this.”

Tessa laughed softly, husky and inviting, then leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.

“It's a white lace thong, Ulysses. So thin it disappears between my cheeks, the front just a scrap covering my pussy—already damp thinking about you.”

Tessa's hand lingered on his arm, her fingers tracing lazy circles that sent sparks up his spine.

“I need a quick break—bathroom's just over there.” She nodded toward a cluster of portable toilets near the vendor stands.

Inside the dim, stuffy toilet stall, Tessa hiked up her skirt, bunching it around her waist. The thong was drenched, the crotch panel slick with her arousal, sticking to her pussy as she hooked her thumbs into the sides and slid it down her thighs. It peeled away with a wet sound, leaving her exposed—her ass bare, her pussy lips glistening in the cool air. She stepped out of it carefully, avoiding her sandals, then balled the thong in her fist, the damp fabric warm and musky against her palm. A shiver ran through her as the skirt fell back into place, the denim now brushing directly against her naked skin, every breeze teasing her clit.

She emerged moments later, scanning the path until she spotted Ulysses leaning against a railing, his eyes lighting up as she approached. Without a word, she pressed close, her body flush against his, and slipped the balled-up thong into his hand.

“Something for you,” she whispered, her lips grazing his ear.

“Straight from my wet pussy. Feel how soaked it is?”

Ulysses’ fingers closed around the warm, damp lace, the scent of her arousal hitting him immediately, salty and sweet, making his mouth water.

He pocketed it quickly, but not before rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the slick residue. His free hand slides to her hip, pulling her nearer. Under the skirt, nothing but smooth skin and heat; he could sense it, the way the denim shifted freely now, her bare ass pressing into his palm as he squeezed.

She shifted her weight, one wedge sandal lifting slightly as she balanced on her toes, drawing his attention back to her feet. His cock hardened fully, straining against his zipper as he imagined flipping up that skirt right there, bending her over the railing, and thrusting into her bare cunt while her sandals scraped the ground. The distant engines revved again, masking their heavy breaths, but Ulysses' hand dipped lower, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt, testing the edge.

“Show me,” Ulysses demanded softly.

Tessa glanced around, the thrill of exposure making her nipples harden under her top. She inched the skirt up her thigh, revealing the smooth curve of her ass cheek, then higher, until her pussy came into view—pink and slick, folds parted slightly from her walk, juices trailing onto her inner thigh. Her feet planted firm in the wedges, toes splaying for balance as she held the pose, inviting him to touch, to taste, to claim her right there and then.

They found a shadowed alcove behind the vendor tents, away from the main paths, the ground gritty with dirt and discarded cups. Ulysses didn't waste time. He pinned her against the chain-link fence, mouth crashing onto hers, tongue invading deep. Tessa moaned into the kiss, hands yanking his shirt open, nails raking his chest.

His hands shoved up her tank, exposing full, pale tits—pink nipples hard as pebbles. He sucked one into his mouth, biting down, making her gasp and arch. He pinched the other, twisting until she whimpered, then dropped to his knees, flipping her skirt up again, her pussy bare, lips already slick and puffy. He knelt and buried his face in her nakedness, tongue lashing her clit as he tasted her. Tessa's hands fisted his hair, hips bucking.

“Eat that pussy, baby. Suck my clit!”

The race engines continued to roar, masking her moans as he plunged two fingers into her tight hole, curling to hit her G-spot. She dripped down his hand, thighs quaking.

Ulysses stood, unzipping fast, his thick white cock springing free—veins bulging, precum beading at the tip.

“Turn around. Ass out.”

Tessa obeyed, bracing on the fence, skirt hiked, pale cheeks spread. He started rubbing his cockhead against her pussy lips, teasing. He slammed in, balls-deep in one thrust, her walls clenching hot and wet. Ulysses gripped her hips, pounding relentlessly, the slap of skin echoing faintly under the crowd noise. Each drive marked her—red handprints blooming on her ass from his spanks, the sting making her cry out. Tessa's hair whipped as she looked back, eyes wild.

“Yes! Harder! Make me cum!”

He reached around, thumb circling her clit, fingers dipping to her asshole. She bucked, pussy spasming, squirting around his cock in hot gushes.

He pulled out, flipping her to face him, lifting one leg over his hip. Back in, deeper, her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust.

“Gonna cum inside you!”

“Do it!”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her cunt milking him. Ulysses roared, burying deep, cock pulsing as he unloaded—thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy, leaking out around his shaft. He pulled back, splattering the last spurts on her tits, marking her pale skin with white streaks. Tessa panted, rubbing it in, licking her fingers clean.

Ulysses made his way back to the villa.

Jodie was waiting, wanting to have a chat with her trusted chauffeur.

“I think it is the idea of women being commando,” Ulysses said as he strolled past her with a grin on his face.

Jodie didn’t say a word and just smiled.