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The French Lady

Tags: french, oral,
She showed me how the French faire l'amour

The day was fading slowly, yielding to the dark of the night. I watched out of the window as the world outside lost its color and the shapes and forms merged together as the darkness took over. There was no reason for me to still stand at the window, staring out into a black nothingness. There was absolutely nothing to see outside anymore.

Maybe it was the rhythmic clicking of the rails that mesmerized e into staying at the window. I was on my way to the south of France , to the town by the name of Orange , to be exact. I was looking forward to meet our supplier. Her voice on the telephone had a nice ring to it, an undertone I liked and that my hormones understood. It was a voice with a hidden promise embedded in it.

There was nothing to see outside anymore but I still stood at the window staring out into the blackness. The car’s hallway was deserted, everyone probably sound asleep. I knew I should go back to my compartment, but something held me at the window. Then I noticed the train tracks curving slightly to the east, and a minute later. I could see a thunderstorm just south of us. The tracks turned again and we were rolling right into the storm.

As the train moved closer to the thunderstorm I suddenly sensed a close presence. It was an ephemeral presence, nothing solid. But before I could turn, a lightning bolt struck close by, its brilliance filling my hallway with dazzling glitter. For now I was blinded. As darkness returned a slight pressure against my right told of another being next to me, a female body, soft and warm. A moment later she was molded tightly against me as if she wanted to have every pore of her skin in contact with me.

Out of the darkness a small white hand appeared in front of my face. A tiny forefinger touched my lips as lightly as a feather. Do not talk the finger demanded, be still and wait. The finger had a companion, a whispered word. Just one word, ‘Monsieur’. It carried several shades of meaning, but mostly it said ‘please’. Please be patient, have compassion, be understanding, be loving, hold me, smell me, touch me.

Her soft hair brushed my neck like a lover’s caress. It smelled of fresh air and sunshine, of trees and of flowers. The scent of her body bathed me in a cloud of sensuous feelings. I was mesmerized and stood still with her warm body molded to mine.

The flimsy blouse she wore let me feel every one of her heart beats. Later I would wonder, when did my arm snake around her to hold her, when did my fingers creep forward, as if commanded by her, to draw circles on her soft breast. She shivered slightly as my fingertip caressed her nipple, and she pressed against me even closer.

There was a quick sinuous movement and my head was held tight between her hands. Her lips found mine; they were cool and hot at the same time. This was a kiss that pleaded for more. When she released me I took her hand and led her to my apartment.

I had barely locked the door behind us and pulled the door curtain down, leaving only a tiny whisper of light sneak around one edge when she gently pushed me down on the seat and a moment later she was curled up in my lap. Despite the darkness in my compartment I tried to speculate on her age, but gave that idea up at once, and instead gave myself completely to the magic of the moment. She rested her head on my shoulder and let her left hand crawl up to the top button of my shirt..

She undid the two top buttons, which gave her access to my chest and started playing with my sensitive nipple. She started out, squeezing it a little to get its attention, after which she let her forefinger trace small circles around the base of my nipple. A few times she used her fingernail to very gently scratch across the very tip of it. After a while she slid off my lap, with the graceful move of a dancer.

She bent down and removed my shoes, then straightened up and pulled me off the bench. Her fingers were deft and experience when she opened my belt with one hand and pulled down my zipper with the other. My pants fell to the floor by themselves but my skivvies needed her help. Her hand on my chest pushed me back on the seat and the other hand under my knee had me lay down. Two seconds later my skivvies were gone. I could not see my prick but I knew it was standing up proudly for whatever she had in mind doing to it. I did not have to wait.

This female was not like so many women who just go through the motions, moving monotonously up and down a penis without any finesse. She was a gifted lady who instinctively knew how to play my sensitive instrument, She brought into play all the nuances of pressure, sucking, stroking with their lips, using a roving tongue, slowing down, speeding up, stopping for a short rest, then playing at fortissimo, and strolling in a Deep Throat once in a while and holding it there for a few seconds.

I could feel how much she enjoyed toying with me. Once in a while she would stop when she believed I was getting too close to the brink. She would hold me in her warm mouth, maybe letting her tongue slide leisurely across my shaft. There is no way I could describe what happened to me when she finally let me go over the edge. There are just no words for it.

When it was over I lay still, completely drained. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the afterglow, feeling sweet kisses raining over my body. I let her have her fun for a little while before I rose and picked her up in my arms like a baby. I then placed her on the seat where I had just had experienced the most glorious orgasm of my life.

This is normally a special moment for me, the moment that I can drink in the beauty of my partner, her little smile and the expectancy in her eyes. It is the moment when everything about her says please don't wait any longer, I am ready for you, I want you. But this time this pleasure was denied me;

I reached out with both hands and caressed her temples, then stroked over her hair before I bent down and planted kisses on her forehead. Next I visited her ear and let by lips nibble on her earlobe. When I stuck my tongue into her ear she jerked and let out the tiniest shriek I had ever heard.

I kissed her forehead again, then ran my tongue over her eye brows him and finally down to the tip of her nose. I would not give her any satisfaction yet, instead I traced the outline of her lips with the tip of my tongue

She reached up with both hands and imprisoned my head and pulled it down to her right nipple. I gladly accepted the invitation. When I took her nipple into her mouth together with a good part of her kit she let go of me. I visited for a while, flicking my tongue against her nipple, feeling it grow. When it had gotten hard after a while I shifted my attention to the other side and treated her left nipple in the same fashion. I would have loved to see her aureoles getting darker, telling me of her rising arousal. But again, this was denied me.

Suddenly she got up and pushed me until I lay prone on the seat. Then she let her hands tell me to turn on my stomach. She used her fingernails to lightly scratch my back and I started to purr like a kitten. Eventually her fingernail caresses where replaced by a torrent of wet kisses raining down on my back. When she stopped I wondered what she had in school from the next.

The next never came. Instead I felt a rush of cool air on my skin and then I heard the compartment door close. I set up with a start; my mystery fairy was gone, leaving only her intoxicating fragrance behind.

As I sat on the bench wondering what might have caused her abrupt disappearance I felt the train slowing down. It was too dark to see my wristwatch but I decided to dress in a hurry. I lost precious seconds fumbling around for my socks and my shoes. The train had stopped and I knew that this was the station I had to get off. This was the city of Orange. I knew also that the train would remain in the station for just three minutes. I was getting frantic.

I heard people moving outside my compartment and I did not dare open the curtain and had to dress in the dark. I could only hope that I could beat the station master. When I was done I grabbed my carry-on bag and raced to the exit. The station master raised his tone the moment I stepped off the train onto the platform. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I was the last one to leave the station. My hotel was located near the train station and I had been given clear directions to it. About 150 feet ahead of me was a young girl pushing a wheelchair. Being a lecherous bachelor I took note of her graceful movements and her shapely body. I was overjoyed when I saw them turning into the same hotel where I was to stay. But when I reached the lobby, neither she nor the wheelchair where anywhere insight.

When I called our supplier the next morning I heard that the lady with a sexy voice had a family emergency. What greeted me instead was a sour looking woman with pinched lips, and then even more sour disposition. The meeting did not go well and I was back at my hotel at noon .

I had plenty of time on my hands and decided to visit the old Roman amphitheater with its 150 foot backdrop. In the middle of the backdrop was a niche with a 12 foot statue of Augustus. I was impressed. The hotel owner later told me that they are performances all summer and many famous opera singers can be heard here, including Pavarotti. I was impressed again.

In the evening I found a nice little old-style restaurant near the Rue de Promenad.. It was already filled with patrons and only one table, off to the side, was available. I was in the middle of my escargot when the door opened and a wheelchair with a white-haired occupant rolled in, pushed by a young lady. I signaled my waiter and asked him to convey my invitation to them to share my table for the evening, which they gratefully accepted.

To set the tone for the evening I greeted them with only my first name, speaking in English. Their English was excellent and they introduced themselves as Francois and Nicole.

It turned out to be a typical French dinner, about two hours long, with good wine and much laughter. The conversation around the table was lively and relaxed except for me. I had taken in the fragrance and there was no mistake, this was the mystery fairy from last night. She gave no indication that we had ever met. I was certain that she had not seen my face and she had not heard my voice. I could not have been more wrong.

Around ten o'clock that night was a knock on the door. It was my Mystery Fairy. who had introduced herself as Nicole when they had joined me at my table. She smiled at me and announced in an even voice, "We have some unfinished business. But first I want you to know that I will never do anything behind my husband's back. I will not trouble you with this medical history and so we will let that lie." She closed the door and walked to my table where she fished a small holder and a candle out of her purse. She lit the candle and then turned off the light in the room.

I stood rooted to the spot, unable even to speak. I was too fascinated by the events unfolding in front of my eyes. She looked around the room, searching for something. And then she spoke up. “I hope the wine you bought this morning was a good one, not a praying table wine. Let's get two classes and sample some of it."

I hurried to get the bottle of wine and two glasses when it dawned on me that I did not even have a corkscrew. She laughed when I told her and fished a corkscrew from her handbag. She turned to me and remarked, "then I lady goes to visit the gentleman she better be prepared." She topped her remark with a musical laughter. Now that I could look out over more closely I decided that she was somewhere between 28 and 42. I was wrong again. As it turned out, she was 48, blessed with the body of her 35-year-old, and the exuberance of a 25-year-old.

"This is the kind of line I hoped you had bought. So let me tell you how come I recognized you. Just before entering your compartment you took a quick look down the corridor and I could see your profile. And I noticed also that little spot on the right shoulder of your jacket."

She graced me with a pixie smile, filled our glasses and raised hers. When I raised mine also she toasted with laughter in her voice, "this is to unfinished business." She set down on my couch and petted the seat next to her and I joined her at once and we made some small conversation for a while.

When she had finished her wine she stood up and placed the empty glass on the table. She turned back to me and said, "It seemed to me that you did find me attractive. Now here I am, ready for some unfinished business, with romantic candle light flickering. Do you need a blueprint?"

"Please forgive me," I answered. “Looking at my beautiful Mystery Fairy from yesterday made me forget about the rest of the world. But now I am back." I picked her up and carried her cradled in my arms to my bed and sat her down on the edge. I too sat don next to her and snaked my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me.. I had turned and brought my mouth close to the ear where I let my lips play with her earlobe.

After I released to her I whispered into her ear, "m little Fairy, you are so delightful and sexy, so desirable and sexy, so lovable and sexy. Get up and stand in front of me, I want to see more of you; I want to see all of you; je veux faire l'amour à vous." Then I wondered why I told her that. After all, she knew I wanted to make love to her; that's what she had come for.

Her blouse was the first item to go. She even helped me with the front buttons, which always seemed to give me some problems. I feasted my eyes on her assets and could hardly believe that a woman of her age had such beautiful breasts. She smiled at me and raised her hands and cupped her tits n a gesture that said come here and enjoy them. But I decided to curb my appetite for the moment and instead lifted her up and later on the bed.

She certainly must have been wondering what I had in mind when I rolled her over onto her stomach. I started with giving her a kind of massage with my two bare hands for a while and then changed to my fingernails, lightly scratching her back.

It was only a short time before she moved her body from left to right and hunched her shoulders. She had been silent but now I started to hear some humming sounds of pleasure coming from her. They told me how much she enjoyed the treatment I was giving her.

She lays still when I turned her back except for a slight quivering. She had her eyes closed there was no change in her breathing. But that changed him when I attacked her left tit, sucking much of it into my mouth, letting my tongue dance around and over her nipple. In the meantime my right hand was busy with her other tit, giving it the proper attention,

I took my time playing with her nipple and then released it to blow some puffs of air against it. I enjoyed watching the little crinkles appear at the base of the nipple him when the cool air hit it. I treated her left nipple lovingly in the same fashion and was rewarded with a small shudder. Her aureoles, which had been pink when I had started, where now dark red.

I decided to work my way down to her belly button, kissing every inch of skin I could find. She shrieked when I swirled my tongue in her belly button and her hands came up immediately to push me away. It was time to give her some relief. First I spread her legs and then put my hands under her knees and lifted her legs up to her chest.

What smiled that me was the loveliest pussy I had ever seen. The candlelight was too dim for me to enjoy the many shades of red and pink and salmon that I knew were there. Drops of her pussy through it adorned the walls and looked like shimmering diamonds, changing colors in the flickering candle light. I could hold back no longer, I had to satisfy my little Fairy and myself.

But as an appetizer I kissed her to the left and the right of her clit but not touching it. She frantically choked her body back and forth in an effort to catch up with my lips. Then she finally caught up with my lips I could suck on her clit only two or three times before she exploded, flailing her arms around her, arching her back and kicking her legs so violently that I had a difficult time to hold onto her.

Her orgasm had gripped her so powerful that I was afraid she might cry out to wake up the hotel. But I learned that I was making love to a mature woman and not to one of the young chicks that are usually bedded. Even in the throes of her orgasm she had put my pillow over her face to muffle her cries.

When her shaking and her shrieking finally died down her legs fell on the bed and she was stretched out like an insect in a display case, totally exhausted. I reached up to remove the pillow which was still lying on her face and saw that she had her eyes wide open but I could also see that they were not focused.

Not more than two minutes later she raised her head and said, “I did not know that I needed that so badly, but now I want you, I want to feel you inside me.” She scooted her as to the edge of the bed and raised her legs wiggling her diamond studded pussy in front of the invitingly. I entered her without hesitation and was greeted with pussy walls that would ultimately clutch me hard and then release me again. This lady was an artist without any doubt and I wondered if I would last long enough to get her over the edge also.

But very soon I could see that my worry was groundless, she was fast approaching the point of no return and I did not have to hold back any longer. We managed to make it a twosome, rising and falling together. When the storm was over and we could breathe again and my eyes obeyed me, again I found her smiling at me and then I heard her whisper, barely audible, "thank you Eric." I stayed inside her and let my hands caressed her skin wherever I could find it, just stroking. She was now completely relaxed, her eyes were closed, her chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm and a smile on her face told me that she enjoyed my caresses.

After we had dressed and shared another glass of wine I asked atypically male question, "Will I see you again?" My question earned me a typically female answer, "Peut être," and I have never found out what a woman's "maybe" really meant.

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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