My French Holiday

As close, warm and intimate as the first time had been it also served to fuel our needs for sex together again. We didn’t plan it or agree that we would do it again but I think we all knew that it was inevitable. I told them that I was going to eat at home the next night.

“Maybe you’d like to pop in for a drink on your way home?” I asked.

They arrived at my house at around 9.30.

Alone again with all the time and the opportunity it was strange that a sort of shyness seemed to come over usl. We chatted about the evening’s diners, about Henri and his visits to the local brothel, about my life in London, their times there and their next term at college. It seemed as though we talked about everything other than what was certainly consuming me and I assumed them as well. I had thought of little else than making love to the pair of them all day.

We finished one bottle of wine, with me now having fallen in with them we all drank red. We’d been there over an hour and still neither of them had suggested or done anything and I was starting to think that perhaps they’d had a change of heart. But looking at them I knew that couldn’t be the case and assumed that it was just a shyness on their part. That happens sometimes with even a regular lover. Not being sure that the other party wants to play and in fear of being rejected a reticence comes over them and that was what I think was happening to both of them.

I realised then that it was down to me. That was the part I had to play, I had to give a signal, make a sign, indicate that I wanted to so that they could remove the fear of rejection. And that made me feel bold for some reason. I found that I wanted to take the lead, to initiate the action and to make some gesture that would show them that I was as eager to continue exploring our three-way sex as they were. I ran a few thoughts through my mind before deciding on my plan of action.

Excusing myself to go to the loo I did what I had planned and then walked back into the lounge coming towards where they were sitting from behind them. As I walked past without even looking at them I said,

“Well I’m off to bed.”

This caused them to look up and I glanced at them almost laughing at the expressions of surprise, desire, relief and pleasure that went across their faces as they looked at me. That wasn’t totally surprising for I had removed my bra and jeans and had undone my blouse so that I was showing most of my body to them. They got the message and with ashtrays, cigarettes, lighters wine and glasses in their hands they followed me into my bedroom. Still feeling the need to try to lead the proceedings I stood by the bed and turned to face them slipping my blouse off as I said.

“You both look a little overdressed to me. “

The ice now completely broken I watched with excitement as my two lovers completely undressed before me. They were both reassuringly hard and I went up to them kissing first one and then the other fully on the lips murmuring as I did.

“I’ve been thinking of this all day.”

They both replied that they had as well and we stood together in a small triangle kissing as their arms went round me pulling me firstly against Richard’s erection and then Luc’s. As I had one of those pressed into me so I would stroke and fondle the other as both their pairs of hands roamed over my now naked, apart from my thong, body.

The sex was vastly different this time. There was no concern that I might object and stop them. There was no hurry. There was in a way slightly less excitement, as last time it was totally new, but despite that we were all very, very aroused and eager to explore this form of lovemaking further. They pushed me towards the bed and I laid on it and for some reason turned onto my front. I have no idea why I did that but it must have sent some form of subliminal message to them for almost immediately they both began to massage me. Well caress would be a better term for their fingertips glided across my skin so wonderfully softly. They were everywhere. To have four hands caressing me in such a manner was incredible. My legs involuntarily, well almost, opened inviting the fingers that slid up and down the inside of my thighs to go further. And they did. I felt fingers right on the soaked gusset of my thong. Under me and on my clitoris. Along my lips and all over my bottom. The thong was removed and I laid there unseeing fully naked as the pair of them did the most amazing things to my body. They struggled under me to cup my breasts and they ran their fingers along the crease between the two mounds of my bottom. They pushed their fingers into me and I squirmed myself against them. They kissed and licked me, again everywhere. On my thighs, the sides of my breasts, my neck and back and on the cheeks of my bum. They went further and I felt one tongue licking and pressing right against my anus as the other lapped at my pussy. They manipulated me so that they could also suck and chew my nipples and so that one could tongue my clitoris as the other licked around my lips and inside me.

Naturally I came. I came many times as they went on and on with this incredible display of oral sex. It seemed as though it would never end and I didn’t want it to. To have two men do such things to a woman must be the most totally exciting and sexually pleasurable thing that can happen, well that is unless there are three or four of them doing it.

At last we stopped. We had to. I could take no more and I am sure they had very little more to give. But I did. I had a lot to give and now it was turn to do so. I wanted to repay them for the pleasure they’d given me. With both of them laying close together on their backs I straddled Luc’s right thigh and Richard’s left one so that both of my knees were between their legs with me kneeling and leaning forward. My face was close to the two erections that I took in either hand. The sight of the pair of them made me slightly giddy with desire for when I am with a lover that I have feelings for their penis takes on a whole new dimension. It becomes an object of such beauty and desire that I want to love it and consume it. To have two such wonderful appendages in my hands was a marvellous new experience and one that made me so excited that as I say I became a little giddy with desire.

I had to make each of them turn slightly onto their sides so that I could reach both at once with my mouth. This of course meant that their upper bodies were pressed together their erections were almost touching and their hips were squashed against each other. I assumed this might be an additional turn on for them and that they might revert to their homosexual instincts and start to kiss. I have no problem with seeing men together but I’m not sure I really would have liked that. But neither showed any inclination to do so and I found the intimacy of their positions yet another almighty turn on. I licked the tips of the two penises alternately running my fingers up and down both the shafts of male flesh as I kissed them. I then ran my tongue along both the lengths and around each girth. They tried reaching out to touch me but couldn’t reach and I said for them to just lie back for this was my treat. And I was loving it. I usually do enjoy giving oral and like to think I am quite good at it for I try to be imaginative alternating kisses and licks with taking it into my mouth and sucking.

But this was on another scale for there were two of them and that more than doubled my delight. Holding one shaft as I cradled the balls of the other in my hand sent such thrills through me. I was becoming very excited and I pressed the two together and, just about, managed to get both tips in my mouth at the same time. Try as I might though I could not get the pair of them very far into my mouth but enough for each of them to realise that their own penis was being squashed against the other one, something I guessed wasn’t new to them. It was to me, though, and it was an unusually ertic sight for me. I took them out and held them squashed together looking up into both pairs of eyes. I saw that they were very aware of what I was doing and they both smiled encouragingly. That again thrilled and excited me. I wanted to see them do more. I suddenly realised that I would like them to do something to each other. I don’t mean penetration or anything extreme but to touch each other and to caress the others prick.

Holding their gazes I slowly reached out and held one of each of their wrists. Not moving my eyes from both of them for a moment I slowly pulled those wrists towards the other’s stomach.

“God what am I doing.” I thought for never for once before in my life had I ever even had such thoughts? I placed each hand on the others erection and gently closed the fingers around it so each of my lovers was holding the others prick in their hand. And then I moved the hands up and down so that they were masturbating each other. This obviously came naturally to them and they took to it very easily. As they did that to each other so I licked and kissed them alternately running my tongue from the base of one cock over the tip and onto the tip of the other and then down that’s length.

“Jesus Mandy,” Richard said laughing, “you’re turning us into gays.”

“Don’t you like it?” I asked

“Hmmm maybe too much,” Luc replied, “I am near to cumming.”

“So am I,” was Richard’s taught reply.

Seeing them do that to each other was so different and so , one of the most erotic sights I’d ever seen. But it quickly became even more erotic. Richard reached out with his other hand and taking mine he pushed my hand downwards so that it was pressed against my pussy. He said

“Mandy you do this as well with us.”

I most willingly obliged and soon I was rubbing myself right alongside my clitoris with one hand while the other ran round the soaked lips of my vagina

Luc muttered through clenched teeth, “can we cum on your breasts Mandy, please let us cum on you?”

His words crashed into my mind and the mere thought of having the two of them do that almost made me cum on the spot. I don’t know why and have never tried to analyse the reason but having a lover cum onto me, particularly my breasts, has always been a big turn on for me.

I laid between them my hands taking me roaring to yet another orgasm as I heard them both grunting and sighing as they almost simultaneously reached their climaxes. The sperm shot from them splattering over my breasts with a few stray spurts hitting my face and hair. It seemed to go on for ages until at last both finished and leaning forward Richard wiped Luc’s penis over my right boob as Luc did the same with Richard’s to my other breast.

Our last night we drank too much, we stayed up too late and we were not in the best of shape for sex. In fact the last time was by far the least successful. However, it was the most tender and caring for we laughed together and cried together as we contemplated my departure and talked of the future. A future that none us, deep down, really believed would happen. Well holiday romances never do have a future, do they?

They were the two most beautiful young men I’d ever seen. Both tall, around six feet, and slim they had the olive complexion, brooding eyes and floppy dark hair that characterises so many young French men. I’d learned they were both studying at university, English and Business Studies, they’d told me. In the summer they came back home to the village near Deauville to work as waiters in a local restaurant.

On a whim I’d decided to take a break at a friend’s house on France. Kevin, my ex had negotiated as part of the divorce settlement that he could take Sarah, our fourteen year old daughter, on a three week holiday every other year. I hated being without her but was powerless to resist when he’d said he was taking her to Australia via Singapore and back through Bali. I knew that in some ways it was good for her for. Despite the acrimony of a divorce brought about by his persistent unfaithfulness, we’d tried very hard together to make the trauma as harmless as possible for her and I’d let him have quite generous access..

The thought, however, of three weeks alone in the Docklands apartment with all the memories of Sarah around me was horrible. So I phoned Marcia and asked if I could use her house in Deves, a tiny village twenty or so miles inland form the famous French resor of Deauvillet. I’d been there once before with Kevin visiting Marcia and Bill and had though it to be idyllic, but we’d only stayed one night on our way back from the St Tropez. She readily agreed saying, “stay as long as you like no one will be using it for weeks yet.”

I’d driven down in my new BMW using the train through the channel tunnel from Folkestone to Calais. The roads had been radically improved since the last time I’d been there and I was surprised to find myself driving through Deauville no more than two hours after disembarking from the train. I did some shopping and then set off down the back roads for Deves. The village and the house were every bit as lovely as I’d remembered and I settled in quite quickly. I reacquainted myself with the four bedrooms, the quite extensive gardens and small swimming pool. I explored the house noting how well furnished and appointed it was but wasn’t surprised for both Marcia and Bill had great taste and oodles of money. I felt that I was going to enjoy myself and soon found I was able, albeit a little guiltily, to put Sarah out of mind, most of the time.

I’d gone to the restaurant the first time on the recommendation of the old lady in the local boulangerie. She told me when I bought my bread the next day that it was the best in town, not surprisingly, I later learned, as it was owned by her cousin. It was a small, very typical French country restaurant. More like the front room of someone’s house really. Just eight or so tables it had a limited menu and was very much a locals place to eat.

I saw Luc and Richard the first night I went there. They served me the most delicious meal at the most ridiculously low price. Although we passed some pleasantries, after I found to my relief they spoke perfect English, acquired I subsequently understood from having learned it from the ages of five and from having spent a year in Bournemouth and London as part of the course. We didn’t say much that first night.

Although there were other restaurants in the village there’s was at the end of the main road nearest to the house that was a couple of kilometres outside the town. I didn’t want to drive for I liked to accompany my meal with a bottle of wine and I’d seen quite a few local gendarmerie around, so I walked.

“Hello again,” Luc said brightly as I walked in,, “ table for one is it?”

“Yes please,” I replied feeling pleased he’d remembered me.

“Hi,” I heard from behind me, “welcome back.” It was Richard coming out of the kitchen holding two plates for the only other diners in there.

I sat down and Luc came over and with the rather blunt way of the French he told that I was almost too late for dinner as the restaurant closed at nine and it was nearly eight thirty now.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realise,” as I remembered how quirky restaurant opening hours can be in many of the off the beaten track areas of France.

“No problem but we do run out so you may not have much choice, I’m afraid. We only have a very small menu of choices the chef gets in the market each day,” Richard explained brightly.

“That’s ok, what do you have?”

“Let me check with the chef.”

He went away and returning after a few minutes explained that there was either guinea fowl or fish. I chose the former with goats cheese and rocket salad as a starter and a bottle of the local white wine. As I waited Richard came up a couple of times bringing the bread, some olives and the wine. He was friendly asking whether I was on holiday and I told him I was explaining where I was staying.

“Oh right Bill and Marcia’s house?”

He told me that they often came in here and that he liked them both very much. Just as he was saying that Luc delivered my starter and Richard told him where I was staying.

“That’s Marcia’s house isn’t it? Luc asked, aAdding, “they really are lovely people, they come in here a lot and we’ve got to know them well.”

“Yes I’ve told her that,” Richard said pushing Luc jokingly as he went on, “she knows we think they’re lovely.”

As we were all l laughing the four other people in the restaurant left. Richard poured me the wine to taste and then they left me to get on with the starter. It was absolutely gorgeous as was the guinea fowl and the soft tort dessert. In fact everything was wonderful. One of them brought me coffee and the other offered me the house after dinner drink which was an aniseed tasting liquor. They stood around as I sipped the coffee and the drink and we chatted with them explaining what they did and why they spoke English so well.

They were easy ttalk to and seemed interested in England and me so the time passed quickly. They gave me another drink and had a couple themselves pulling chairs up to my table.

“I’d better be going,” I said after at least an hour had passed after I’d finished dinner, adding, “I thought you closed at nine.”

“We do really but that’s just for food and the locals. For others and especially for pretty women we have no hours,” Luc said smiling broadly.

I liked the flattery of course and I sat chatting to them for another half hour or so before I said I’d have to go. I suppose a little nervous thinking of the couple of kilometres walk down the dark street so I was relieved when they said they’ run me home as it was on their way to the small flat they shared in a large farmhouse set back in the woods behind the town.

It became my regular. I ate there for the next couple of evenings having the most delicious basic French food prepared and cooked to perfection yet in a simple manner that only the French seem able to get away with. I spent my days walking in the hills and woods, taking drives into Deauville and Honfleur and visiting the beaches and war graves of the Normandy landings. I’d brought my PC with me so I did some writing and kept up to speed with my e-mails and with work and I had the pool so I could swim and top up my tan in the solitude of Marcia’s garden. It was tranquil, beautiful, restful, interesting and fucking boring. I had so much time on my hands, I met so few people, I got sick of woods and hills and if I saw another war grave I think I’d have screamed. I was dying for some fun, some adventure and thrills, some excitement, anything to break the bloody boredom of what I was doing.

I began looking forward to my evening meal more than anything else. At least there I got to have some intelligent conversation. And I was getting to know Richard and Luc as well as the chef Henri quite well. They seemed to like having me around so as well as having dinner there most of the first week as that ended I began popping in for a coffee in the mornings. That relieved the bloody boredom a bit.

On about the fifth evening we sat chatting longer than usual sharing a bottle of wine. Just the three of us, Henri had gone, “to see his hooker,” Luc had said laughing.

“Really?” I asked, surprised at how open he was.

“Yes of course, a man like Henri has to have his pleasures doesn’t he?” Luc stated in a very matter of fact fashion.

Laughing, Richard added, “and what woman would havehim other than for money?”

We all joined it the laughter and I said, “oh that’s not fair or kind Richard.”

“No but it’s true Amanda, could you imagine being in bed with his fat sweaty body?”

“Well no I couldn’t,” I agreed the vision of the chubby, short Henri, naked coming into my mind.

Then out of the blue Luc said, “

“Do you imagine the body of anyone in bed with you Amanda?”