European Interlude

I tapped lightly on the door of Maureen's suite late the following afternoon. She opened the door immediately and I sucked in my breath at her loveliness. As always, her auburn hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup flawless. Her radiant smile, with the whitest of teeth, was complimented by green eyes that shone like moist emeralds. She pulled me inside and embraced me tightly as my backpack slid to the floor. Her lips brushed my neck and a shard of passion shot to my groin as I smelled her honey-like breath. "Come sit down," she whispered. "Are you tired? Want a drink? Want to take off your boots? Scotch okay?"

I gave her a quizzical look and she realized she'd asked four questions. She laughed a bit too forcefully as I responded, "No, yes, no and yes!"

"I'm sorry, honey...Nick...I'm so nervous! First the drink!" she said, trotting quickly to the sideboard. I watched her from the back and my groin started pulsing. She was wearing a snug, jersey, off-the-shoulder floral top that stopped just above her breasts and showed half of her deeply-tanned upper back. Her full cotton skirt flared from her small waist, ending at the knee, and was obviously buoyed underneath by petticoats of some sort. Her luscious tan legs were without stockings...just the way I'd remembered from our first night. On her tiny feet were three-inch heels with ankle straps. She finished pouring drinks and corked the bottle, only to stand there with her back to me. She placed both hands on the sideboard, almost to brace herself against it, and said, "Nicky...I can feel your eyes on me. When that happens, I lose all self-control. I forget who I am...a middle-aged mother of two college-age daughters. A lonely divorcee who's...who's...oh, fuck it!" she said, then turned to walk slowly to me with our drinks. The look in her eyes had changed from one of radiance to a dull, almost-narcotic stare.

She handed me my Scotch and sat hers on a small coffee table which she moved away from in front of the sofa. She stood between my feet, standing and looking down at me for a few seconds, then sank to the floor, perched between my knees, laying her head on my thigh. "A divorcee who's what?" I asked, a bit surprised at her outburst. It was 1961. I'd led a relatively sheltered life and had never before heard a woman use the "F" word.

"One who's made a fool of herself...with her daughter's boy friend!" she murmured.

"I amnot Lindy's boy friend!" I exclaimed. "I mean, I feel a lot closer toyou than I do to her!"

The dull look vanished from her eyes. "Do youreally?" she asked, grasping both of my thighs and rising to her knees. I nodded quickly as her hands spread flat and moved toward my crotch. "Then it's okay if I undress you?" she asked, somewhat timidly. I nodded again and a slight smile split her lips, then a look of purpose knitted her face as she struggled to unbuckle my belt and open my pants. "Then youlike me," she gasped as she wrestled my pants and shorts down over my butt. "I'm not just an old slut, chasing after a kid half her age!" I was about to respond but she interrupted me, with almost a squeal of joy, as my rising cock snapped out of my briefs, right in her face. She grasped it by the root and muttered salaciously, "Mmmmnn...youwantme too...dontcha'," as her tongue flicked out to wet the dark red crown repeatedly. I stiffened and threw back my head ecstatically as she murmured several lewd things, the one I most remember being, "Thas' good, baby, 'cuz I've had days to think about what I'm gonna do to you. We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Maureen, I haven't bathed in...", I wheedled, half-heartedly.

"Shush, sweetie," she mewled as she licked. "You taste jus' like last time...tangy 'n' soooo goddammale. Now just lay back there an' watch what I do to you."

Her incredible mouth soon engulfed as much of me as she could take, all the while she was looking in my eyes. She then grasped me with both hands and very slowly began milking me from my pubis to my glans, stopping only to tongue and suck at my near-bursting cock's helmet. Deeply in her throat she was humming softly, vibrating my shaft 'til I yelled, "I'll cum in your mouth!" still trying to focus on her piercing green eyes.

"Mmmm-hmmm, that's what I want," she murmured between long pulls. "Come on...come on, honey...give me your yummy jizz. Cum in my mouth...my hot mouth...my hot, wet mouth. Cum, Nicky. Please give it to me. Please cummmm!"

I was transfixed as Maureen's thin, tan hands moved up and down my rod, stopping at her lips which flexed softly around my corona. I was hypnotized by the unblinking stare of her green eyes, boring into the depths of my libido.Is it now? Will you cum in the next instant? they seemed to ask. I felt I was going to explode when, suddenly with one hand, she pulled down the front of her top, baring both of her full breasts. Their nipples were hard and brown, with a tinge of pink from excitement. Her tits felt like two small satin pillows rubbing against my inner thighs, causing me to grunt, then to whine from sensory overload.

I plunged my fists downward into the cushions on each side of me and raised up a few inches in ecstasy. But Maureen followed me and suddenly began licking my balls, first one then the other, until they both had retreated up into my crotch in preparation for my orgasm. Thirty seconds later a long, white geyser shot straight up and looped down over Maureen's hair and forehead to bisect her face. She gave a joyous little scream and covered my dick, immediately sucking blast after seedy blast into her swallowing throat. Finally I popped free of her lips and her hands worked four or more ribbons of semen from me onto her heaving tits. As the tempo of her hands slowed and her touch became more tender, she whispered softly, "Thank you, Nicky, sweet boy. When you do that I almost cum myself!" Then she scooped my mess from her breasts and licked it languorously from her fingers 'til they were clean.

We ordered dinner in the suite that night from the restaurant downstairs. The remainder of the time was spent in her bedroom, where I truly learned to appreciate a mature woman. When the sun came up, streaming through the tall bedroom window, Maureen rose to shower. When she came back she chirped, "Smile for the camera!" and clicked off a couple of shots of me lying naked on the bed.

"Scrapbook pictures to show to your bridge club?" I asked, sarcastically.

"No, you darling little shit! These are for my eyes alone! The morning back light is lovely in here. Now let me arrange you a bit more to my liking!" With that, she walked to the bed, ruffled the sheets around my ankles, and – Gawd, again! – slipped my flaccid dick into her mouth, bathing it with a copious amount of saliva, and laid it on my left thigh. It pulsed a few times and began to rise, prompting her to snap the camera shutter again.

"You want me hard?" I asked, now into her game.

"Would you do that for me?" she asked, presumably innocently, as I started slowly to wank myself to a respectable hard-on.

Finally she said, "Perfect!" taking two more shots of me erect before she set the camera aside and joined me on the bed. "Breakfast can wait!" she said, leaning down and giving me a kiss before straddling me. Her practiced hand seated me once again in her pussy, which always seemed to be wet, and she whispered a question in my ear, one that it appeared she was rather ashamed to ask aloud: "Nicky...have you ever had anal sex?"

* * * * * *

Three days later – more like three weeks of exhaustive fucking with Maureen – I arrived in Grenoble and ended up at Lindy's door. She wasn't there. Her roommate, Carolyn, was, however, whom I hadn't seen in three years or more...when she'd been in high school. "Lindy's on a field trip to Colmar, looking at church art 'n' stuff. She won't be back 'til tomorrow," said the breathtakingly shapely young woman. "Please come in, though. We've been expecting you," she said, fluttering like a bird and seating herself nervously on a double bed that served as a second couch in their living room.

I dropped my pack and set my guitar and straw-covered wine jug in a corner, then collapsed on the sofa. I'd become quite comfortable with my informal image by this time, and didn't hesitate to press the point, especially since I knew this nymphet's agenda. "Enjoying France?" I asked, ingenuously.

"Oh, Gawd, yes! I'm fluent, you know, and my grandmother was born here!"

"Didn't know that," I admitted. I'd first met this girl back home when she was a cute, shapely, though as yet underdeveloped, ballerina. Now, looking at her made my throat constrict because of her figure. Her curves made me drool, and I suspected that she knew what she was doing to me, the little wench. "Guess I'd better find a room, since Lindy's gone, then catch a train," I ventured.

"Oh, no...please stay here! There's an extra bed...this one," she said, smoothing out the wrinkles in its spread with a tan, blemishless arm and long, dainty fingers. "We're having a party tomorrow night and all our friends from home wanta see you, 'n' talk about Berlin 'n' stuff."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna have some wine. Want some?" I'd filled my Imperial gallon jug at a wine store on the way from the train station.

"Sure!" she bubbled. "I've got somebaguettes and some ham andpate! We can eat and...".

Of all the women I'd seen since arriving in Europe, Carolyn was one of the most delectable: Five-feet-seven, with a 34C-22-34 body, all dreamy musculature that would make gym-worshipping women of four decades later hate her. This day she was dressed in a thin cotton, yellow sleeveless shirt-dress that scooped low across her breasts and down her back. It was so thin and skin-tight, in fact, that her braless nipples and aureoles showed brown through the material, as did the dark brown hair of her muff. The dress went to her ankles, though on each side it was slit to mid-thigh, showing the tight, muscular results of many years of ballet training in her legs. She caught me looking at her body more than once, and innocently responded with hazel-eyed stares that matched her dark-brown, pixie cut hair. "You've changed since I saw you three years ago," I said, idiotically stating the obvious and at the same time causing her to preen like a peacock.

"Yeah..." she said tentatively. "So have you. You're a lot huskier than I remember when I used to dream about you in high school." She wrinkled her little button nose and licked her full pink lips, shaped like an archer's bow.

I snorted at her comment and wondered if she was going to bring up sex immediately. "So what have you learned in the two weeks you've been here?" I asked.

"How to relax my body more. I mean, the intellectual stimulation is great, too, but I think – more than anything – this year I'll become more accepting of my body, about sex...".

I gave her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate.

"Do you masturbate?" she asked suddenly. "You probably don't...I mean, a guy traveling through Europe. I'll bet you have all kinds of women. My Gawd, you and Lindy have already done it, which means, well, you know...! Anyway, I get myself off all the time! Tell you what. Have a glass of wine, sit back an' relax, and lemme do some dance exercises for you."

"All right, entertain me," I said arrogantly. I poured a tumbler of wine and slouched down on the sofa, my neck resting against the back. With Lindy not returning 'til the next day this was a perfect time to wile away some hours, plus, since Lindy had won their bet, technically, Icould nail Carolyn. Now was also an opportunity to observe the sexy girl engage in "accepting her body"...whatever that meant.

Carolyn switched on a small lamp, put on a recording of slow, dreamy music, and began doing turns around the room, stretching her yellow dress tantalizingly with each movement of her legs. When she'd finished two complete circles she scissor-kicked one leg up next to her face, holding it there as she pirouetted, then repeated the movement with the other leg, turning on one toe as she did so. Naturally her dress rose nearly to her waist as she twirled, affording me close-up views of her crotch and succulent, pink labia. Two more circles around the room and she flopped down on the double bed where she'd been sitting earlier.

"Very impressive," I murmured. "You're amazingly limber." I, on the other hand, was amazingly rigid. She'd accomplished what she'd wanted...to turn me on. My cock threatened to burst through the front of my pants. She gave me a distant smile and huddled on her knees with calves tucked under her, and slowly curled over to lay her shoulders on the bed with her face toward me. Then she extended one leg backward, bending it upward toward her back, and grabbed the ankle with one hand. She did the same with the opposite leg, then both again. The movements, of course, worked her dress up to her waist and – with each upward arc – displayed her magnificent ass. The sun shining through the window behind her made her luscious, tan body glow, so much that my breath caught in my throat.

"This is my favorite," she puffed, "so good for the back. Do you like it?" she asked absurdly, her hazel eyes round and innocent.

I grunted approvingly, as my groin pulsed from its load of blood.

"Mmmm...good," she purred, not sounding at all like a slut. "An' now...". She flipped onto her back, with her dress still at her waist. Thrusting one leg into the air, she stroked it from calf to crotch with little, feather-like movements of her fingers. As her fingers brushed her labia she exhaled quickly and her hips spasmed. She did the same with the other leg, looking at me through lidded eyes the whole while. Then she turned toward me on her side, laying one bent leg on the bed and extending the other knee vertically to splay open her pussy. She licked her right hand and put it to work immediately, fluttering two fingertips across her clit in a practiced move. With her left she reached out to me and whispered, "Come...please...come...help...me."

I'd already taken off my boots and socks and had peeled off my shirt as I approached the bed. My pants and briefs went next and I stepped out of them, baring my erect cock to her eyes. I slid my hand to and fro on it, causing her to moan loudly and speed her masturbation. Then I knelt and migrated down to her vulva to watch the fundamentals of her method. Maureen had taught me that each woman is unique in her appreciation of tactile details, including the art of lingual love. "I'm gonna eat you, Carolyn," I uttered, my voice thick with lust. "Then I wanta fuck you...all night...".

"Would you?" she asked, girlishly, at the same time going through contortions to strip her dress off her upper torso.

Oh, yeah, I told myself. This will be sweet. She was reclining with the evening light behind her, and I was faced with what approximated female physical perfection. Square shoulders, tightly muscled arms, high, full breasts with tan upturned nipples, a taut stomach, and dancers' – or breeders' – hips atop flawless, toned legs. And, what the hell! She was also fluent in French!

I knelt beside her, her eyes riveted to my tumescent cock. She looked intimidated, made a whimpering sound in her throat, and scooted backward on the bed with her legs apart, revealing her appetizing, pink pussy. She'd groomed herself free of hair around her slit, probably for ballet costumes, I figured, and she looked almost virginal. Though she'd been masturbating, there was only a single petal of her inner labia peaking out of an otherwise deep, moist gash. Her organ looked for all the world like a ripe, juicy peach, waiting to be split open and devoured. I wasted no time in tasting its sweetness.

Sliding next to her on the bed, I wrapped my arms around her thighs and bore with relish into her oozing – incredibly tight – vagina, at the same time pushing my turgid cock toward her face. For half a minute she mewled like a spoiled child as I sucked at her opening, swallowing a steady trickle of her juices. She pulled nervously at my member, almost as if she didn't know how to treat it, then began moaning as I felt her hot mouth engulf my knob. I then moved my head back slightly to flick at her clit, which drove her wild. She began thrusting her mound at my face, grunting "Nnngghh! Nnngghh! Nnngghh!" and I rolled onto my back, better able to control her manic thrashing. With her knees straddling my head, her cunt absorbed long, smooth strokes from my tongue, culminating with her clit rubbing against my chin on each tremulous push. I looked up at her gorgeous muscular ass and it quivered involuntarily as she drove herself to an orgasm on my face, all the while she was engulfing my prick with long, slobbering pulls from her mouth, almost to the point of gagging.

"Nick!" she cried, pulling off my cock. "I'm gonna pee!" she wailed, "No...I'm gonna...ohhhh, Gawwwd! It's...aaaannnngghh! Aaaannhh! Aaaannhh!" she screamed, as a flood of thin juice – not urine – ejaculated onto my face. She banged her pubic bone so hard against my chin I thought I'd come away with bruises, but I held on gamely. I knew it would be sweet, and it was only the beginning. Before Carolyn had a chance to relax I raised her, panting and groaning, and spun her around to straddle my hips. She collapsed onto my chest, ooo-ing and aah-ing, then began kissing me in apparent gratitude, and licking her effusions off of my face. "My Gawwd, I've never cum like that before!" she said as I reached between us to pierce the outer lips of her soaking pussy with my hungry probe.

"Take as much as you want," I muttered. I'd learned with other women that my bigger-than-average size might cause her discomfort, especially given her apparent lack of experience. "We have all night," I soothed, knowing that securing her trust would pay off in spades.

"You're so sweet, Nick!" she said, looking me in the eyes as she proffered first one pendulous breast, then the other, to my lips to suckle. Her pulpy, half-inch nipples were salty with her perspiration, and mixed beautifully with the fecund smell of her juice on my face. My hands were full of her taut flesh. I closed my eyes and remembered a recent experience with a younger sister of Anna's, in Norway, whose inexperienced teen body had had a similar taut feel to the one I was currently worshipping. I wondered how Carolyn's body could possibly improve as she reached full adulthood. But my mental wanderings ceased as she took my cock from my hand. "Gawd, youare big! I couldn't get all of you in my mouth! But just wait! I've got a dancer's mouth – mmmm, right...down...here – that could swallow you if you were Dumbo!" She said this as she seated my knob just inside her moist center.

I smiled privately and marveled at 20^th Century popular culture. Who could imagine a French Lit major who speaks the language fluently linking a Disney character to a quasi-pornographic fantasy? Then I realized that I was thinking too much. "Dumbo?" I asked with a snicker.

"Yeah. Feel how I'm taking you in...kinda kissing you as I...ahh, shit...as we come together?"

I did, indeed. I'd never before been with a dancer, and this was new. Short, slow, little drops of Carolyn's hips took more of me each time, and her slow, trembling withdrawals were agonizing. It was as if my cock were being squeezed rapidly by a thousand hot microscopic fingers, all lubricated with some heavenly balm. I showed my appreciation by running my hands all over her tight flesh. Her breasts, tummy, waist, hips, thighs, even the wetness of her elastic labia as they gripped my cock, were a delight to me as she increased the height and speed of her thrusts. "I could eat you alive!" I whispered, as I began flicking my hips upward each time her pussy met my pelvis.