Memoir of Claire

He rushed to open the outer door, but she was quicker. She was wearing the white terrycloth robe the hotel had proudly provided, monogram and all, and her hair was wrapped in a bath towel, her facial tan contrasting so well with the snow-white fabric.Un visage bronze! he thought, realizing to his delight they were quite alone. Closing the balcony door behind her, she extended her hand, smiled and said simply,Claire. Thanking him for coming, she motioned to the love seat in the sitting area, and, as he sat, questions that would not dismiss themselves came all at once. Who was this lovely woman perhaps only half his age? Why had she discretely invited him to her suite? And where was her husband, Gilles? Just as he began to blurt out the first of these, she settled into a colorful chair opposite and began an embarrassed attempt at small-talk.

She: "Voulez-vous quelque chose a boire?" He:"Je...non, merci, Claire." Perhaps reading his mind or expression, she began in lovely, halting English to explain herself. "Je suis...ahh, I am an economist inJardin du Mer, not very far fromCollioure in the south of France.Gilles aussi! And the work is often....tres dificile, do you know?" He became inquisitive and asked about the economy of her region, and she responded with, "...l'industrie principale de la region est le cine, mais aussi le trafic des armes et la contrebande." He smiled, said something about it being dangerous at times to live there, and this seemed to give her the confidence to continue. " We both suffer from fatigue...le surmenage intellectuel, and so we made a holiday here in Mexico." She looked at him before answering another of his questions while playing with one end of the towel, then at once unwraping her lovely brown hair. "Gilles, he loves to swim, but for me it is not so much amusement. So he is there and I am here." Her right hand reached across and touched his arm, then lingered for a moment before returning to her side. Then she surprised him. "You have...un visage melancolique, when I saw you at breakfast or on the beach, yes? And I thought to myself, c'est possible this man is alone, and this is why he is sad. Then, when you gave mele guide du poisson, you smiled,,,and you are smiling now, yes?"

He hesitated with his answer, then said with an embarrassed laugh, "Vous avez un physique agreable, Claire, un beau chassis, oui!" Good, she thought, he is attracted to me as I am to him. She became very still then, just looked directly into his eyes, and he regretted having chosen those words – "God, if she's a feminist, I'm through....she must be thinking what an old, degenerate fool I am." Her eyes left him to look downward, and she spoke again, softly, playing with a lock of her hair. "Gilles and I, we want to haveun bebe,...(pausing now) and we are tryingavec le coit, do you know? She stopped, not wanting to be misunderstood. Leaning forward, he encouraged Claire to continue, and when she did her voice was a throaty whisper meant only for him.

"Gilles baise moi bien, mais...," she hesitated, then told him in English that her husband does indeed take care of her very well, sexually, however, and here she became emphatic, "J'ai une forte libide...desire ebais amoureux." And she looked at him, quite honestly lost for words, pleading with her eyes for him to understand her. He felt the sting of uncertainty, not knowing if she meant what he hoped she meant. So, quite stupidly, he asked,"Que voulez-vous, Claire?""Tu le sais fort bien!" she thought to herself and looked directly at him for a moment, then downward again, hands to her face, a little sob and a flush of embarrassment. Rising from the chair, "...je pense....un moment, s.v.p...," and bumping her leg on the coffee table, she disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the faucet splash while she freshened her face, and he pondered his situation, wondering if she would be able to go on, when he heard her footsteps.

Expecting her to return to her chair, he turned to see her standing at the bedside, her back to him, removing the robe, gathering its soft folds and laying the material across the bed cover. His lips again formed the words,un beau chassis.... Stunned, he watched her young body move and bend as she spread her robe open, naked but for a wisp of red undergarment at her waist that disappeared betweenles fesses – those lovelyarse cheeks that so well define a woman's sexual maturity, flushed in bronze from the sun. Her body, so deeply tanned from many hours outdoors, a long delicate neck of Venus, so enticing, shoulders and arms only a sculptor could shape, her legs of particular beauty. But his eyes kept returning to her center and the sudden flare of hips and juttingderriere, as she bent once more and climbed onto the bed, all in one quick motion. Reclining then, propped up on an elbow, her eyes locked to his, and in the softest of voice,"...venez ici, S'approchez..." And he felt the same sensual heat as before, only this time it was having a definite hardening effect on that part of him.

For the moment, he forced his mind to wander to the classics he'd studied so long ago at university only to escape her heat. On composer Carl Maria von Weber's accomplishments, Oberon was Weber's final opera, and unusually it was an English-language work commissioned in 1824 by London's Royal Covent Garden. By this time Weber knew he was fatally ill with tuberculosis and was desparate for any project that might earn substantial money for his wife and children... This wasn't helping, he thought to himself. Her every movement as she arranged herself enticed him that much more.Thank You for this sweet and, I suspect, not-so-innocent body I'm about to taste...

Lying there before him was a sun-warmed vision of feminine youth and, he guessed, considerable carnal sophistication. His thoughts now on hold, overwhelmed by her beauty and richness of her skin tone, a youthful face –le minois – and a neck line plunging delicately between squared shoulders, to shape her open breasts– les poitrines petit – small, yet shaped so perfectly. Breasts with large roseate circles in their centers, each deliciously crowned withun bout de sein, nipples large and passive, but now each one flushed with arousal. Each one boldly asking to be wetted with tongue and suckled, soon jutting proudly from her flesh, pointing, begging to be suckled some more. He thought of Gilles – you lucky dog! – and how often he'd tasted her lovely niplets with his mouth and tongue.

Realizing there was no longer any hope of resisting (and why should he, after all?), he bent near her to capture the fragrance of her hair, the sweet scent ofEau-de-toilette about her body, and he nibbled her ear until her lips found his and offered a kiss – at the very moment his roving fingers found her titty and played awhile with the nipple there. Her breath came out all at once against his cheek. She told him how she willed him to meet her eyes as he passed nearby– hier matin, en centre du exercise – and yes, he had turned back to look at her at the exact moment. And then she knew it!

"Knew what?" he puzzled, then told himself to shut up, for this was clearly a time for no more questions. She came up on her knees and opened her mouth to his desperate tongue, while her hands bunched his shirt in front and lifted it over his head. He loved it when she unbuttoned his pants as he stood beside the bed, his fingers exploring and teasing the taut skin of her back all the way to where her panties disappeared intola crevasse. She let him know with a sigh and a soft kiss that she was enjoying his touch. At this point, she began an exploration of her own, managing to insert her own hand into his undershorts, feeling his swelling, twitching nervously, then swelling some more. Somehow they were lying beside each other on the robe she'd spread, both suddenly aware of one's own nakedness against the other's body and the mild discomfort of chilled air racing out of the room's air conditioner. As if in response to the sudden cold, she huddled close to him while keeping them both on the openedsortie de bain so as not to muss the bedspread, he guessed.

But when his fingers went to slip inside the front of her panties, she stopped him.

Seeing the look of hurt in his eyes, she sat up again, calling a momentary halt to his gentle survey of her young body. Quietly, she explained her actions, borrowing from the nursery fable, the tale of the wayward rabbit –le lievre – who one night discovered a burrow that was occupied, and rather than taking shelter there, went off until he foundun autre terrier, whereupon he spent the night. And the next morning he was so delighted with himself that he'd found shelter of his own without dislodging a fellow rabbit. She laughed at the puzzled look on his face, and then he understood the meaning of her story! She blushed a bright red in embarrassment when her finger touched herself in front and said, "Mon vagin, c'est pour Gilles, suelement...pour notre bebe. Mais mon autre....," her hand now caressing her buttocks, "...c'est aussi une organe sexuel, non? Pour votre lievre, n'est pas?" She said the last part in a low whisper he could barely hear.

Then a devilish laugh, throaty, stimulating him even more. He wondered if her questions were merely rhetorical, then realized he was being ridiculous. So he placed a finger at her lips, embracing her, then he kissed her, tasting her sweet innermouth, her tongue suctioning his own. And he imagined his tongue at workentre les fesses incroyable! and willed himself to believe that it might...no, that it would happen. She asked him if she could suck him, and, without awaiting an answer, rearranged herself on the bed and took his cock in her mouth. He teased her with'bon appetit, Claire', and she gave him a wicked smile and a little bite with her teeth in return.

What seemed a bit odd to him, though he had no complaints, was the manner in which she held his penis –un membre viril! she told him with appreciation. She didn't grasp him in a fist, her open palms instead held him captive, first examiningle faisan, as she called it, lips parting only to warm his cock with her breath, then finally when he could stand her teasing no longer, opening her lips and gently massaging himavec un fralement, all the while with openpaumes adding gentle pressure to the base of his erection. She did not use her tongue on him until she worked downward to hissacs, les bourses. It was only through sheer concentration on a subject of total irrelevance that he found he was able to postpone release and keep from erupting in her mouth.

He watched her, fully entranced, feeling himself harden as much from the sight of her tongue and lips wetting its length as from the electric sensations whenever her mouth engulfed him, and he felt its knob rubbing the back of her throat. Then, "I will have to bemouille before you fuck me," she told him, almost casually as though she'd just asked for a lump of sugar for her tea, adding,"Je desire la languette bien la-bas." It wasn't very long thereafter that she, satisfied (as was he!) with her part in preparingle penis, turned over onto her tummy and, reaching for a pillow and propping it under her middle, slipped her thumbs under the waistband to push her little panties down below her mounds to offer him her divinearse cheeks –joues jeunesses.

Now he marveled – again – at the sight of the red fabric as it pulled out of her crease where it had so recently hidden from view. The sun's artistry was nearly complete, the skin of her lovely mounds colored with the same hue as the small of her back, arms and thighs. It was only her telltale crease that had escaped the summer's rays; a tiny patterned triangle of pink had been left there whenever modesty convinced her not to go without a bikini bottom. He continued his examination. A little mole graced the upper portion of one buttock, the sole invader of her otherwise unblemished skin, and he touched it with a fingertip. Crouching over her body on hands and knees, he let his thumbs spread herjoues apart to expose thepetit fleur inside. And he found her secret place, a perfect well of reddish-brown flesh accentuated with little creases in the shape of a tiny starfish, asleep now, awaiting his touch.

Lowering his face, he felt the glowing heat from her bottom, and, tasting the passageway with his tongue to moisten her as she'd asked him to, he began to gently open her. Her breathing quickened and she tightened a little, unaccustomed he guessed to his purposeful tongue as it sought to penetrate the little wrinkledbouton. He reached his fingertips to her exposed neck and drew them down over the skin of her back, then repeated this, calming her. Kneeling backward, he raised both of her legs together to pull her panties fully off before his hands spreadles cuisses well apart – those beautifully rounded, bronzed thighs that left him breathless while she posed on the beach, yesterday. And he got down to lay prone between her thighs, hands spreadingles fesses wide apart. His heartbeat raced with the carnal anticipation of again using his tongue in her and wondering how she would respond to his entering her.

It took every ounce of self discipline in him to avoid tasting the milky juice of hervagin, a lovely pussy that glistened now from her own ministrations and that seemed to him to yearn for his attention. She had shaved herself there; only a few moist hairs formed soft shadows on her labia. As if she sensed his struggle, she reached one arm underneath and cuppedla chatte with her hand as though to protect its folds from involvement - intentional or otherwise – while she gently encouraged him instead to continue playing with herderriere. He glanced at the tiny pubic curls that had worked themselves between her closed fingers, and he bent and kissed her fingers, lingering long enough to smell her sweet musk. Her delicate fingers had become quite wet, and instantly he was overcome by the heady fragrance of womanscent that spread from hervagin.

But now his tongue was restless to return tol'autre terrier and the lovely wrinkles at the entrance to her brownbouton. "Gouter les fesses feminin – toujours savoureux, toujours sensuel," he said more to himself than for her, and he spread her once more and tasted the exposed creases that disappeared into her very center. This caused her hips to begin a rhythmic, circular movement on the bed, and he had to hold her still to allow his tongue to do its work. When he managed at last to press inside her pinched ring and kept inside her for a moment, herhancheserupted in motion and, with head thrown back, she cried out in wonderfully colorfulbanc gauche French – words he'd never before heard from a woman's mouth.

She tasted the sudden, metallic tightening at the base of her throat as he continued his probing, and she recalled the other times she'd been made love to in this way, once or twice even with a protesting Gilles, submitting herself at first to their experimentations, then yielding to the delicious sensations that somehow carried her to prolonged orgasms. Now she so wanted to have this lovely man forget his apparent loneliness and smile again.Oui, she would make this happen. She would have him go deep inside her until she felt againla extase, and this would be her reward, at long last!

When he had thoroughly explored her little hole with tongue and she was nicely moistened with his saliva so that she opened easily to one, then two of his fingers – and he began wondering how it was going to feel to put his prong inside her – she whispered to him that she wasn't quite ready, and he realized, foolishly, that he'd overlooked using some protection. As if in answer, she came off the bed and, taking his hand, led him to the alcove. Instantly, he was mesmerized by the jiggling movement of that part of her that just moments before had been the focus of his foreplay.

He marvelled at the glorious shape of her naked bottom, pantyless, each golden hemisphere caressing the other with every barefoot stride she made across the carpet.Un frissonement de volupte! This of course only resulted in an animated forward pointing of his penis, throbbing, as he followed dutifully behind her. At the vanity's double sink she deftly opened one of the little foiled packets she'd taken from a bag of cosmetics and dressed him in soft latex –"...un preservatif pour le lievre," she told him. He kissed her, her sweltering nakedness against his body, and feeling his obnoxious member squeezed between their stomachs. She laughed and teased the glans with two fingers, while one of his hands slid down behind her, and, finding her little openingentre les joues jolis, pushed his middle finger inside her asshole, feeling her tightness again.

"Oh! Le lubrifiant, ma Crème de la Peche," she cried, then reached across for the colorful tube that could have been mistaken forBain du Soleil. She put a droplet or two on a fingertip, her lips forming a coy smile, and asked him to taste it.Qu'est que c'est...mais, voila! When she put her finger between his lips, he was surprised by the sweet flavor of country fresh peaches. The creme was edible and rather appealing to the tongue. With that she reached down between her thighs and applied more of the crème to his middle finger as he continued his playful insertion. And a hundred thoughts rushed into his consciousness, not the least of which repeated itself over and over: "What if Gilles should return and find me screwing his lovely Claire?" But then, would she have let this go on as far as it had if she thought it mattered? As if in response to his soul-searching, she relaxed herself even more, and the pressure of heranus along his finger's length lessened.

She interrupted his thoughts of the moment, pulling slowly away from his probing finger to turn and bend over the vanity counter, a reflection of her smiling lips caught by the huge mirror, her nipples now prominently stretched, and her right hand sweeping behind her to enter thecrevasse, spreading more of the crème between herarse cheeks. She openedles fesses with both hands and urged him to kneel behind her and to put his tongue inside her again,mais lentement, and he was quick to do as she asked.

Electric sensations from the sweet taste of her lubrication and the resilience of her puckered opening shot through him; he took himself in hand and stroked its length in anticipation. Only once did she interrupt him,"...l'ouvrez avec le pouce....ahhhh, oui!" She wanted so badly to see for herself his tongue and thumb at work, an image to match the exciting heat that was coursing through her body, but she was met only by the wanton face of her own carnal desire reflected in the vanity's mirror. And her expression reminded her ofDraghixa's ownPornographique. "Yes," she laughed to herself, "my body is beginning to feel again exactly what that lucky girl-woman has so often enjoyed!"

She touched herself below and told him she was sorry he could not play with herpalourde, adding to convince them both that she knew he understood. "Anyway," she said to herself, "I will have a marvelousorgasme when he fucks me the other way, non? He doesn't seem to mind the alternative...I am so very happy to have found him...tres joyeux." And the sensations of the moment brought her back tol'universite and her Professor of Economics who, she learned too late, was obsessed with her. In second term, he had appointed her as his aide on the pretense of improving her grade standing and a promise to submit her forSociete Economique. In time, the professor had indeed made good on his promises. Additionally, as they became lovers, he introduced her to a technique of lovemaking she'd only heard discussed in whispers.