My Biarritz Babe

As we kissed I groped her pillowy bum with my fingers. Then she untangled herself from me and stood, undoing the remaining buttons of her dress. It slipped from her shoulders and she efficiently unsnapped her stockings from her suspender belt , which she held arms length in her fingertips, then dropped -- slowly, like a stripper. She turned her back for a moment, waggled her bum at me and stuck her tongue out over her shoulder. When she reached to remove her cap, I shook my head. My voice sounded husky when I said, "No, leave that on. And the stockings."

She giggled and her eyes widened suggestively. "Oh, my naughty m'sieur likes the feel of ze feel of les bas rubbing against 'im as we make love, n'est pas?" I didn't know I knew the French word for stockings, so I had no idea how it turned up in my dream, but I supposed I must have been aware of it somewhere deep in my subconscious.

Dressed only in that cap and those stockings, mesmerising me with her swinging hips and glossy black pussy, my French Amazon advanced on me. Normally it takes me a few minutes to recover my hard-on after I've cum, but that stuff Bébé had injected into me was amazing, and by the time she lay on top of me again my cock was almost painfully stiff. Bébé squatted astride me, took it gently but firmly in her hand, and plunged down on me.

Oh. My. God. I'd thought her mouth felt incredible on my dick. Her hot, soaking, tight cunt felt like the hundred most erotic sensations I'd ever experienced, all rolled into one. I seriously began to wonder if a young, relatively fit guy can die from the sheer ecstasy of being fucked by the most amazing pussy on Planet Earth. Bébé giggled and gasped, lifting herself up to the very tip of my knob then impaled herself on me, over and over, as I reached up and massaged her big, bouncing boobs.

I knew I wasn't going to last too long, and I wanted to be on top of her. She screamed with laughter as I flipped her onto her back, and wrapped her legs tightly around me. They were so long I thought they might reach round my waist twice! I slammed into her with all my strength, kneading her tits in my hands, and she gasped with each thrust, rubbing her silk-clad legs up and down my sides. The look of sheer animal pleasure on her face was beautiful, and I felt myself building up to another huge ejaculation. I finished off with three huge final thrusts, and as I did, Bébé panted "Oh oui...oui...wheeeeee!"

Volcanoes erupted; continents shifted; out in space, whole planetary systems exploded. We again came together, both screaming, sobbing, gasping, our entire bodies vibrating. It seemed to go on for hours. Then, finally, we collapsed into the bed, our tired, sweaty bodies melded together. Bébé recovered her breath first - I wasn't sure whether I was ever going to be capable of breathing properly again. Stroking the contours of my ear with her tongue, she whispered, "Oh my love, my beeg gorgeous 'unk, I am ze luckiest girl in ze world, to find ze greatest stud in all 'istory." I sank back smirking, thinking what a lovely fantasy girl I'd dreamed up; then I tensed at her next words: "Let's do zat again, darling - right now!"

I awoke in the morning, wreathed in sweat, my sheets tangled around me, my whole body aching. Wow, that was the most fantastic fucking dream of my life. I glanced over at the little plastic figure on my bedside table, and my fertile imagination saw the glazed eyes and languid smile of post-coital bliss on her face. Leaning up on one elbow I whispered, "Good morning angel, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me." Chuckling to myself I stumbled to the bathroom.

As I was having a pee I noticed a dull throbbing in my right bicep. Maybe, I thought, some insect had bitten me during the night. I looked at it in the mirror -- there was a raised mound, bright red and apparently with a puncture mark in it, almost as if someone really had injected me. Then I felt an irritation between my teeth. I dug around with a fingernail - and produced a jet black pubic hair!

Bébé doesn't stay at my office anymore; no, she sits by my bed all day, readying herself for me. It means that during the day I can concentrate on my work a lot better than I have of late, and at night...I have to lock her away in the spare room occasionally, just so my tired body and my aching cock can get a good night's rest. I mean, seven times in one night - well, that's just not natural, is it?

Even though the work I'm producing has never been better, I do realise that I've probably gone round the twist, at least as far as my relations with Bébé are concerned. That's the only explanation that makes any sense to me. But I know one thing - if this is what crazy is like, I hope to God I never recover my sanity!