Tenth Anniversary: Part 1 of 2 – Foreplay

A stickup.

On the third Tuesday of each month, I fly to Paris for two days of business meetings.  Monday is a day of preparation and a two-hour drive.  We spend the night with my wife’s friend Alexis and her husband who have a house close to the airport.  Alexis is a flight attendant and is often part of the cabin crew on my Paris flights.  If Alexis is not flying, she and my wife may go shopping after Sheri drops me off at the airport.

Monday evening, we usually look for a quiet restaurant. We eat light and forego any adult beverages.  A hangover is not conducive to a pleasant overnight flight.  Neither is it a friend of good sex on Tuesday morning, when Sheri has sex with me. After I return, Saturday is when I have sex with Sheri.

This particular Tuesday, Alexis wasn’t at work.  While they are careful to give Sheri and me our privacy, she and her husband don’t suppress the sounds of their own lovemaking.  And this morning it sounded like both were getting some.  We were up a bit earlier than usual.  Sheri had an appointment at a spa, scheduled between dropping me off at the airport and catching up with Alexis.

Sheri started preparing breakfast.  The tight-fitting Tee doesn’t reach below her waist.  It molds itself quite nicely to the shape of her breasts.  Her nipples peak out through two small holes cut into the shirt.

Rule 1 – look all I want, but absolutely no touching her or myself.  Rule 2 – I’m nude and sitting on a high bar stool where she can see me while preparing breakfast.  If not already hard, she sees to it that I get an erection.  She offers a bagel to my mouth with one hand while rubbing my penis with the other.  Later, she stands in front of me, drinking an orange juice and rubbing her breasts.  Bending over, she offers one of her nipples for me to suck on for a few moments.

She knows how to make my rod ache.  She stoops to lick and kiss it, pulling her head back if I make any attempt to shove it in her mouth.  When her bagel is ready, she turns her back to me and bends over.  She licks the cream cheese off the bagel while I watch her masturbate.  When she’s done with herself, she coats my stick with strawberry cream cheese.  Taking me into her mouth, I serve her a semen fortified cream cheese shake.

After breakfast, we return to the guest bedroom.  The rule here – she’s on top.

This morning, additional items are scattered about the bed – rope and leather.

After pinning down my wrists and ankles, she fastens a belt around my waist.  There is also a piece of leather, perhaps six inches square with a hole in the middle. A small ring or cuff encircles the hole.  My dick is threaded through the ring while the remaining material is wrapped around my balls and cinched with a pull string.  A second string is tied around my waist.  Its purpose is to keep my erection, well – erect, pointing straight up, rather than letting it arch over.  Like hot wax that slithers down the side of a burning candle, a small stream of pre-cum trickles down my dick.

She pulls off her Tee.  Standing next to the bed, she has one foot on the floor while the other is on a close-by chair. She turns her back, ignoring me, and bends over.  Her vulva is exposed to me, while she nonchalantly pulls on a pair of white thigh high stockings.  Reaching across to the dresser, she picks up a vial of perfume and daintily dabs a drop on each inner thigh.  It is my favorite of her perfumes.  Wisps of blonde hair escape from under the band of her black and white headpiece.  My eyes feast upon her bouncing breasts, while she fastens her skirt and twirls around to admire herself in the mirror.  The costume’s matching top is left abandoned in her overnight bag.  I follow her steps as she dances to the end of the bed.

“Bonjour, monsieur.  Oh!  Your morning stick!  C’est très magnifique!”

“Wood.  Morning wood.”

“Oui. Sometimes I have the trouble with the language.  Your morning wood.  Ça me fait plaisir de le voir.”

“I’m glad you like it.  It would delight me to see it fucking you.”

“Non.  Non.  Monsieur.  Madame insisted.  Ma chatte will not be fucking you today.  Perhaps this will be satisfactory?”

She’s on her hands and knees facing me.  Anchored like it is, my stick is up for her lips and tongue.  She closes her mouth and just holds it there.  It’s not enough stimulation to make me cum.  She knows she’s teasing and there’s little I can do about it.  I’d rather be fucking her instead of watching her fingers working her clit, and she also knows that!

She cums and releases my cock from her mouth to lap up the precum/saliva drink.  She dangles her breasts over my rod, swaying slightly, from side to side.  Her breasts swing, like two pendulums, her nipples brushing across the tip of my penis.  When my hips begin to buck against the leather restraints, she knows I’m getting close and turns down the heat.  Now her breasts are above my face.

“My breasts.  Monsieur likes them, oui?” She lowers them enough for my mouth to pull in a nipple and suck on it.  “Oui! Très bonne.  Mademoiselle likes the tits in monsieur’s mouth.  They get quite hard.  Like monsieur’s bone, n’est-ce pas?”

Normally, this is when she would position herself to slide down my pole, and finish me off.

Not this morning.

“Madame instructs that I am to have you ‘manger ma chatte’.” Does M. Ted want that?”

“Oui.  C’est bonne.”

“You eat ma chatte? That is something you like? How?”

“Come up here.  Place a knee on either side of my head.  Lower yourself so that my tongue can lick ta chatte.

“Mais non, Monsieur.  Mdm Sheri instructs that I am to bare my breasts to you.  But I am not to show you ma chatte.  I thought my breasts were pleasing to you; your penis seems très heureux.  Ah, the blinding cloth.  I will put it on your eyes.”

I could smell the perfume applied earlier and the fragrance of her flower.  My tongue found her clit.  I began to pleasure it.

“Monsieur!” She screamed and jumped off of the bed.

“Oh! mon cœur.  You frightened me.  Did I hurt you?”

“Non, non, M. Ted.  I am only a common whore.  A slut, here to service you.  I am not worthy of such delights as your tongue heaped upon me.  Mdm Sheri directed that Mlle is to service monsieur’s penis, oui?”

“Oui.  But it delights my penis to give you such pleasure.”  She resumed her position above my mouth.  When my tongue flicked at her clit, she began to shiver again.  She moaned uncontrollably.  I stopped.

“Non, monsieur,” she cried out.  “You make me, how do I say?  I feel I am about to explode, but the fuse, it fizzles.”

“It’s ok, mon cheri.  I will light another fuse.  Your breasts, Mlle.  They light the fuse for my penis, but without your fingers, it fizzles.  Non?”

“I am glad my breasts make the erection, but my fingers make the explode?  Like your tongue on ma chatte?”

“Oui.  Your fingers on the head of my penis, sliding over its ridge and along my shaft, it is like the tongue.   My penis has been ready to burst ever since you walked in here.  Your breasts, your tits brushing against it, c’est très magnifique!  Since Mdm forbids ta chatte to my penis, the task belongs to your fingers.”

She reaches for a small jar and drizzles coconut oil onto the turgid head of my erection.  A tiny drop of lavender elicits a warming, tingling sensation. I try to imagine it’s her chatte sliding up and down my pole as one folded-over hand slides downward along my shaft, followed by the next hand, in an unending circle of sensual delight.

Mdm Sheri, or, at the moment, Mlle Sheri, holds my penis in her hands. She knows I’m close, longing to give her a drink of my love milk.  I erupt, like a geyser, into her waiting mouth.  Forty-five minutes later, she’s another average housewife, hurriedly kissing her husband goodbye at the departures deck of the airport.

“Some time I need to go with you.  Your slutty French maid can be your Parisian whore.  We will fuck each other all week.”