Finding Picasso Ch. 05

The thing of it is, he's not even completely hard. His uncut tip is a ruby-red, while the rest is pale pink and laced with gnarly veins, and although his cock protrudes straight out from a tangle of sandy pubic hair, it curves gracefully until the tip points at the ground.

Marie-Clair takes his balls in her left hand and caresses the thick shaft with very long, gentle strokes. He looks down at her with something akin to indifference. Clearly his cock has different priorities. It responds to this sensual massage by inflating from half mast to fully engorged. She sucks on the tip, which would seem to be about all that anyone without sword-swallowing experience would want to attempt, and begins stroking him more vigorously.

Runa is transfixed by this her performance, and it has the predictable effect of making my cock throb almost painfully. Without really thinking about it, my thumb and forefinger wrap around my shaft and rub off a few long strokes.

Max watches her jerking and sucking him without changing his expression. Then he notices me playing with myself, and his indifference gives way to a flicker of interest. For an instant, I mentally exchange places with the lady blowing him with such unrestrained enthusiasm. But it doesn't do anything for me. Her tight and naked ass, her jiggling tits and the sight of her lips wrapped around his super-sized dick, however, excites me beyond words.

Her head is bobbing energetically, and her fingers fly up and down his cock with practiced skill. The afternoon's excitement and surprises have aroused me to where I am rapidly approaching the point of no return.

At first it feels as if the gentle breeze that's been nuzzling my naked cock has changed speed and direction. Then as a hot and wet sensation engulfs the tip, my eyes fly open. In the dappled sunlight, it looks as if some kind of pale angel with a golden halo has thrown her arms around my midriff, her lips ensconced on the head of my throbbing cock.

The French usually get credit for inventing oral sex, although I suspect it's really more that they popularized the technique. In any event, I think the Scandinavians also deserve a tip of the hat, at least if Runa's capability is any kind of measure.

Perhaps it's partly the unexpected way we begin, with Runa caressing my nuts and lowering her mouth and swirling tongue over my glans while I am lugubriously masturbating to the voyeuristic spectacle of a woman at the peak of her sexuality, orally worshiping a phallus, the scale of which I have never seen before.

It doesn't take long before my cock is pumping cum between Runa's lips, most of which dribbles out of her mouth, drips down her chin, and runs down her tits. I grab a napkin from the picnic basket and wipe her face and breasts while Runa's eyes glow with wonderment. When I'm done, Runa licks the rest off her fingertips.

"Mmm," she whispers. "Nice appetizer."

When it's evident, none of us have enough libido left for another round, Marie-Clair walks toward us, still naked except for her shoes. In the broken shade of the overhanging chestnut branches, her skin appears youthful and her smallish breasts seem as pert and upthrust than Runa's. I can't be sure, but I have the sense this is all the work of a skilled surgeon, because in her eyes all I see is a kind of predatory, world-weariness.

Marie-Clair gives Runa an air kiss on each cheek, and for a brief electric instant, I see their nipples and mons touch, then pull apart. "Do you come here often?" Marie-Clair asks in a sing-song, perfectly accented Parisian French.

"Our first visit," Runa replies in French, with her charming Scandinavian accent.

"I'm Marie-Clair. And this is Max," she says gesturing to the big guy, who is dutifully gathering their clothes from where they're scattered alongside the trail. "I live near the Bois and sometimes hold parties for liberated individuals such as yourselves. I'd be honored if you'd join my next soiree."

Runa casts a glance at me, then answers. "That is so kind, but I'm only in Paris two more days." For some reason, I assumed Runa and Raven were in Paris for much longer, and the news she'll be leaving so soon comes as a shock.

After Marie-Clair and Max depart, we finish the Pan Bagnant sandwiches I'd picked up on the way and drink half a bottle of nice Bordeaux. But learning The Twins are leaving so soon, leaves me disappointed.

If only in my fantasies, I'd had big plans for the further sex education of beautiful Runa. I'm reading Keroac's On the Road, and wonder for a moment what he would say in my situation.

"Live, travel, adventure bless, and don't be sorry," would work.

DISCLAIMER:

All characters except historical figures are purely fictional. All characters involved in sexual situations are at least 18 years of age. Copyright: jason_NYC