Catering for a Stag Do. Ch. 13

He moved to the door from where her voice had come and saw that the bathroom door was not fully closed. Putting his eye to the small gap, he saw Trish standing at the basin. She had one foot on the vanity top with her knee spread wide to the side. Her back was to him, but the mirror gave him a clear look at her naked beaver. He felt himself hardening as he took in the view. She was stretching her labia and carefully stroking the razor along them, searching out the remaining hair.

Trish did have a towel wrapped around her breasts, but it was wide open because of her stance. And as she had her head down, concentrating on not cutting herself, she was oblivious to his presence. He pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom. Trish still did not notice him and jerked when he touched her shoulder. In broad French, he spoke loudly, "Madame, we have had a complaint about you. I must ask you to come with me and answer some questions, S'il vous plaît. He had lowered the timbre of his voice a few notches to disguise his voice.

Trish dropped the razor, gasped, and started to protest. Alain gripped her shoulder hard and, standing behind her so she did not see his face, marched her out of the room. Then, turning her left towards the alcove, he guided her along the walkway with a hand on her waist.

She started to resist violently, and her protests increased in volume until he pushed her in beside the vending machine, and she came face to face with Dave. 

Her mouth dropped open, realisation awaked, and she spun around and looked Alain in the eyes for the first time. "You bastards! I was crapping myself then. Fuck! Alain, you rotten bastard."

Dave stepped forward and, pulling on her towel, dragged her in beside the ice maker. Then tugging the towel free, he threw it on top of the machine, leaving her standing totally naked.

Trish gave a shocked squeal and made to cover herself with a hand while using her other hand to reach and get the towel back. Alain stepped in behind her, slipped his hands under her arms and took a breast in each hand. Dave reached down and cupped her still-soapy vulva.

"Christ! Not here," cried Trish. "You have to be joking; someone will walk past."

"You're a bad girl," Dave whispered in her ear. "You're all wet down there, and with all the naughty things you have been up to, the Law has caught up with you. I think she needs a good stroke or two on her backside Alain."

"Ah! In French, we say 'Coup', which also means poke. I think this is what she needs." And Trish felt Alain unzip and release himself against her back.

"Not here, you bastards, you can't do it here," and she struggled to get free.

But both men held her firm. Dave roughly pulled Trish against him and leaned back over the small bench beside the ice machine. The action lifted her feet from the ground, and she tensed as she felt Alain move behind her and part her dangling legs. He rubbed his prick against her slit, coating himself in her juices, and she braced herself, knowing she was about to be impaled. His efforts and her mounting excitement had her secretions flowing like a river, and he slid in with little resistance.

Still struggling and worried about someone catching them, she looked behind. No one was there, but she could only see a few meters of the walkway. The suspense and expectation that someone could walk by sent a surge like an electric charge running through her body. It was an anxious, panicky feeling, but mixed with it, the thrill of being discovered, and she felt her already wet quim start to run like a river.

Dave was also watching the walkway and looking a bit anxious. He still had his hand between her soapy legs and pulled it back as he felt Alain's shaft run between his fingers, but then eased it back to search out her clit. 

He kissed her hard, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, then drew back and looked into her glazed eyes, "You need to come quick before someone comes. Concentrate slut.'  

Dave had never spoken to her like this before, and he half expected her to explode. But Trish just groaned and pushed her cunt onto his strumming fingers. 

But she did hear him and saw the truth in his words. She needed to make this quick. She pushed herself away from Dave, and once her feet touched the concrete, she bent forward, slid Dave's cock out of his shorts, and took him in her mouth. Then moaning and mumbling that she was about to cum, she jerked her bum around on Alain's engorged prick, banging hard against him, matching his thrusts.

At first, she was just acting, knowing if she were to pretend to cum, they would quickly follow. But then she felt the beginnings of a real orgasm building and realised that this situation and the likelihood of being seen was incredibly erotic.

She lifted her head, "Christ, Dave, play with my tits." 

Then she lowered her head again and tried to suck Daves's balls up through his prick. Then, rotating her hips, she worked all of Alain's cock inside and set to with her pelvic floor muscles, trying to milk him dry. 

Sure enough, within minutes, she heard Alain start to groan, and his strokes quickened. She put all her effort into getting Dave off now, taking him as deep into her mouth as possible, then drawing back and curling her tongue around his knob.

The first to cum was Alain. He was trying to suppress his groans and keep quiet, but with little success. His final thrust rammed Dave's cock deeper down Trish's throat than she had ever taken him. She recoiled back from Dave's ejaculating rod, gasped for air and came herself with a long, drawn-out shriek. Still buried deep, Alain stood and enjoyed the pulses gripping his cock. Her eyes slowly came back into focus, and she saw that the walkway was still empty. Then pushing Alain's hands from her hips, she extracted herself and made a grab for the towel to cover herself. 

But Alain pulled it out of her reach, "You don't need that, come on, follow me; I have good news to share." 

And zipping himself, he turned and beckoned her to follow him back to their room. Trish snapped her head left and right before stepping from the alcove. No one was there, so she hurried along, happy Dave followed close behind, albeit on unsteady legs. 

Before they could stop her, she ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. Then as she evaluated what had just happened and how sensual it had been, she grabbed a flannel and cleaned her still soapy, messy cunt. Then wrapping a bathrobe around her, she walked out and joined the men in the lounge. Both were flushed and looking very smug with themselves.

"You bastards," Trish exclaimed, "This news had better be good!"

Alain gestured for her to sit and started explaining. "I went into the station as soon as I landed yesterday, and before I even looked at my assignments for the day, I rang my brother. He was not in the least surprised at my news and explained he had set up a trust for the house soon after our parents died. I hadn't signed the documents, as he had never had a chance to put them in front of me, but he thought he had all the other's signatures. But although not strictly legal without my signature, he could get around that, and the appropriate sheets would be in the next mail for me to sign."

Both Trish and Dave gave Alain the thumbs-up. He beamed and rushed on. "Next, I rang Pascal, it was late at night there, and they had just gotten home from a night out with friends. One of the couples was my wife and her new partner. He was reluctant to tell me his name, but when I explained she was pushing for a divorce, he told me. It was Rainier, a Gendarme in my office. It was who I had suspected. My wife had evidently confided to Pascal's wife about the divorce and mentioned her settling on her getting the house and staying there, so they would still be neighbours. I wanted to tell him 'Dream on' but clamped my mouth and kept quiet about the trust."

"I decided not to write a letter to the Surveillant Général but placed a call to Paris and asked if I could speak with him directly. They told me to hang up and that they would get back to me. I had only just started to read my first assignment for the day when the Surveillant Général himself called back. I was as diplomatic as possible but explained my situation and wanted to hand in my resignation, as I could not return to Paris in a couple of months and work alongside this man living with my wife. He didn't say much but indicated that I was not to make any hasty decisions and that he would get back to me."

"His secretary called at lunchtime today, saying there would be a letter from the Surveillant Général, but I was not to resign until I read it. When I pushed her, she told me, 'that off the record', Rainier would be transferred down to Marseilles, into a rough part of the town. And that although on paper it looked like a promotion, it was far from that. It was being fast-tracked, as he was to replace an officer who had quit under suspicious circumstances."

"So, for all your help, I want to take you both to a little restaurant next to my apartment in town. My shout and I have already bought a couple of bottles of my favourite Champaign. Shall I go down to the bar while you get ready?"

Dave looked over to Trish; she gave him an uplift of her eyes. "Don't be silly. Dave, pour him a Canadian Club, I'll have one too, as we can't take that half-full bottle on the plane, and it's not going in my suitcase to leak over everything. What shall I wear?"

Dave looked over to Alain. "I think she should model some sexy outfits for us. Then, we'll just sit and choose the one that pleases us the most." 

Alain nodded his head in agreement and asked if he could change out of his uniform and clean the gluey wet patch Trish had left around his fly.

Dave made them all drinks, then went to the bedroom and pulled on some light chinos and a short-sleeved shirt before joining Alain in the lounge.

For the next 20 minutes, Trish paraded in and out of the bathroom with different dresses and skirts, some she had bought while on holiday. Dave didn't even realise she had purchased a couple of the ones she modelled. He doubted there was a hell of a lot of their US$ left in the travel wallet.

They both agreed on a short strappy dress in a red shimmery material. It was backless and open enough at the sides to see that she wasn't wearing a bra. It was tight-fitting at her hips and finished about mid-thigh. As she walked and spun around for them, they saw that the material was slightly transparent, and she hadn't put on any knickers yet.

Trish saw the lust in their eyes. "I thought this would be the one. I can't wear a bra with this. Are you okay with me being out in public like this?" She said, looking at Dave, Then spun around and bent over to show him how the top of the dress dropped away from her breasts, leaving both beautiful globes exposed and hanging free. Her bent-over position gave Alain a good shot of her naked fanny, and he gasped in surprise.

"I'm going to wear panties. So don't get your hopes up."

"You don't need panties, and yes, I'm sure Alain and I can hold the hoards of lecherous Frenchmen at bay," said Dave.

"No way am I walking out of here with no panties. So you can forget about that."

Alain spoke up, "It's alright, Dave. She should keep them on, but when we get to the restaurant, they must be removed." 

As Trish went to object, Alain waved her to relax, "You will be okay when we get to the restaurant. It is very quiet and secluded. Far away from the usual touristy spots."

--

Alain drove them into town and parked outside his apartment. He asked them to wait a minute, as he needed to drop his uniform off, not daring to leave it in the car. When he returned, they walked a block to an old building with a neon sign on the front.

Trish read the sign above the door. "Charcuterie Bar - La boîte de nuit, that's a nightclub; I thought you said it was a restaurant."

"It's more of a club, almost a private club, as only the locals in this vicinity frequent it. However, it has really good food, and I eat here several times a week," said Alain. "It does have entertainment, though, and music, but people seldom dance. So it's not really a nightclub."

They ascended the stairs and were shown to a cubical near the back of one wall. It had a good view of the stage. Alain drew Trish down to sit beside him, leaving Dave the seat opposite them. Trish looked around the room and noted a pole on one side of the stage. "Do they do pole dancing, or is that for stripping?" She asked.

"Both." Replied Alain. "You never know what is going to happen on any particular night. I have seen patrons on the stage stripping, male and female. But usually, Victor will hire a couple of Tahitian girls if there are to be strippers."

A stereotypical Frenchman walked towards them. He was swarthy with a 5 o'clock shadow, wearing the French black and white striped T-shirt, but she chuckled to herself as he was not wearing a beret.

"Ah! Here comes Victor now." Alain stood and introduced him as the owner of this fine establishment. "What is the entertainment tonight?"

Victor leaned down to Trish, took her hand in his, and kissed it. "Ah! Such beauty. We should have you on our stage tonight. I have some local girls to dance for us, but their beauty pales against yours."

Trish blushed, he spoke too fast for her to understand him correctly, but she got the gist.

Alain stepped in, "That champaign I brought, please, you lecherous old bastard." 

--

The food was superb, and for an entree, Dave and Trish tried 'snails', a first for them both, and surprisingly, they found them to be delicious. The Champaign flowed, and the conversation was interesting. Alain told them stories about some diners seated at the other tables. There were some couples, but it was mostly men. When their conversation touched on their escapade earlier that night, Trish blushed and admitted that she had enjoyed the excitement of being so vulnerable. She was not surprised when she felt Dave's foot pushing between her knees, but she did react when Alain dropped his hand under the table and attempted two lift her dress.

"Not here, not now! God, you guys are incorrigible."

Dave grinned at her. "We need to give you some relief, you're looking a little tense."

"Of course I'm tense, it seems like most of the men in here are perving on us, and you guys are feeling me up in front of them."

Dave looked around, "Only a couple can see into our cubical, and they cannot see what's happening under the tablecloth. So relax."

Alain's hand was sliding up under her dress, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping his progress. "Later guys, I'm not doing anything here."

They both eased back, but Alain did not remove his hand, and Dave continued to caress her calf with his foot.

Victor appeared on the small stage and announced the entertainment for the night. "We will have a saucy little Cabaret this evening. I hope you are not all too shocked. Enjoy!" 

The restaurant lights lowered, coloured spotlights bathed the stage, and to accompanying music, six dancers came onto the stage. There were four girls and two men. The girls were dark-skinned and very attractive, dressed up like CanCan dancers.

Everyone shuffled their chairs around to face the stage. Trish and Alain did not have to move, they were almost facing directly at the stage, but Dave had to swivel around at 45 degrees to watch. Alain's hand crept up from her knee, and Trish put her hand over it, trying to slow his progress. He held still but then placed his other arm around her and slid his hand over her right breast.

"No!" She exclaimed, trying to lift his hand while she glanced around. But that left his left hand free to move up her exposed legs.

"No one is watching; relax." He whispered in her ear. "Everyone is more interested in the Stage now."

Still, she held his hand on her breast and felt his fingers slowly drag the hem of her dress up to her crotch. The sensual movement of his fingers caused her to catch her breath, her head snapping around again to see if anyone was paying them attention. Watching the girls on stage lift their skirts and expose their brief panties and long-tanned legs. She realised no one was going to turn and watch them while that was happening, so she relaxed and opened her legs a little.

His slow adventurous fingers hooked themselves under the elastic band of her bikini brief and drew them down her legs.

"Lift," he ordered her, and as he pushed her panties past her knees, Dave reached under the table and removed them completely. Alain brushed his fingers lightly along her slit, then sank two fingers in hard. His thrusting fingers extracted a gasp, and she lay her head on the cubicle seat's headrest.

They were going way too far, she knew she should be offering resistance and stopping them, but she had had too much to drink and had no fight left in her. Plus, she was getting fucking horny again. Dave came around the table and squeezed beside her, his body partially blocking the other patrons' view.

Partially concealed now, she relaxed a little and offered no resistance when Dave slid his hand under her top and exposed her breast. Alain ordered her to lift again. She obeyed, but before she could stop him, he had raised her dress above her waist. She panicked for a second, then an insatiable need for release came over her, and she slumped back, submitting to their perseverance. In the back of her mind, she struggled to comprehend why she was not absolutely mortified at being exposed in a room of thirty or more people. 

Now Alain had laid her bare. He spread her labia, took her swollen clitoris between his fingers, and worked it like a small penis. The feeling was sublime; she did not care what happened around her now but threw her legs open as a wave of emotion wracked her body.

As Alain worked on her exposed crevice and Dave cared for her breasts, her hips jerked up to meet every violation. Her pleasure blossomed, and her body shuddered and pulsed under their touches. She couldn't control herself now. She straightened her legs and lifted her rotating ass off the seat. She grabbed Alain's hand and forced his fingers into her cunt as she came. Thankfully, her low moans were heard only by the two men. She expected them to stop, and they did slow a little, giving her time to catch her breath. But each kept working at her, just enough to keep her arousal burning. In a shorter time, than she thought possible, she felt strong waves of desire start to build again.

She opened her eyes and saw the couple at the closest table watching. She pulled on Alain's hand, and when he looked, she directed his gaze to the couple. He smiled at them; they nodded their heads in appreciation and then turned their attention back to the stage. 

Flooded in sensations, Trish saw that the two male dancers were disrobing the four girls. She tried to close her legs, lay back, and watch the show, but Dave dragged her to her feet. Alain followed, put an arm around her waist, supporting her, and walked towards the back of the dining room.

She was at a door before she realised her dress was still stuck above her waist and that people were watching. She made to pull it down, but Dave held her hands. They passed through the ornately carved door into a private dining room with only five tables. But Alain did not stop; he marched her over to the French doors and onto a small balcony overlooking the street.

Trish was now even more aware that she was exposed and that the people walking in the street below could see her if they looked up. The guys stood on each side of her and lifted. She was facing Alain and felt him reach down and align himself. Dave crowded in behind and directed his cock against her rear. Then they lowered her, and she wriggled her arse to enable both shafts to ease between her legs.