French Connection

"That's it! No more U-turns until you work out exactly where the hell we are" I said slamming on the brakes and stopping by a small farm building.

"It's not my fault" said Sarah angrily "if you slowed down a little instead of driving like a maniac I might stand some chance of reading the bloody map."

I looked across the road at a herd of cows sheltering in the shade and sighed, "perhaps if you turned it the right way up so you could read the place names I wouldn't have to slow down."

"Look, if you think you can do any better help yourself" she said flinging the map on my lap and folding her arms.

"Oh for Christ's sake! How the hell do you expect me to map read and drive at the same time" I fumed looking at the car clock "at this rate we're going to arrive too late for dinner."

We left the channel port of Calais that morning. Breezing down the slip road onto the autoroute south with the top down on our sports car in anticipation of two carefree weeks in Italy seemed a distant memory now. This was to be our first decent holiday since getting married 18 months earlier and we had been looking forward to it for weeks. Now we were hopelessly lost somewhere in the Alsace mountains with the whole of France gripped in a cruel heat wave. When the air temperature reaches the point where a breeze no longer cools then an open car without air conditioning becomes a liability rather than an asset. I pulled the roof up to get some relief from the sun and studied the map....

We decided to call it a day and stopped in a small village high on the slopes of a minor pass. By now we were hardly talking. The hotel was basic without dining facilities and the room had no air conditioning. I opened the shutters slightly to let in some daylight but protect us from the still furnace-like glare of the suns rays. Sarah peeled of her sweat soaked clothes without ceremony and headed for the shower while I unpacked some overnight gear. Sarah's French is very good (mine is nearly non-existent) and had found out from the hotel manager that there was a small restaurant within walking distance in the village so at least we would eat.

By the time I got out of the shower Sarah was sitting at the end of the bed painting her toenails. She was wearing a very short yellow print sundress with thin shoulder straps. She looked very beautiful, her golden blond hair falling over her shoulders her face set firmly in concentration. "Do you have to do that now?" I said "we are late for dinner already."

"Unless you are going out like that" she said sarcastically without looking up "you're not ready yourself."

As I walked past her, one leg was drawn up exposing her abundant freshly washed pubic curls. "You should wear underwear with that dress," I said.

"I'll wear what I want" she said defiantly "I'm a big girl now and I don't need you to tell me what to do."

We walked down through the narrow streets in silence. Sarah had been given directions to the restaurant and to my great amusement and her fury she had got us lost again. Despite the fact that the sun had set it was still appallingly hot. The walls of the buildings radiated the heat of the day and I was sticky with sweat just walking slowly downhill. Finally, after taking a 'short-cut' across some open ground, we found the tiny restaurant, which to our despair, was full. Fortunately the waiter took pity on us and persuaded a couple to share their balcony table with us.

Pierre and Catherine introduced themselves and we thanked them for their generosity. Pierre spoke in English some of the time but Catherine only spoke French. They had just started their first course and seemed to be in convivial mood. Sarah brightened up immediately and started conversing in French without bothering to translate leaving me to sit there like a lemon staring at the view.

We ordered and I slowly wormed my way into the conversation by asking questions that Sarah translated for me. Pierre and Catherine were on a walking holiday and were staying in rented accommodation in the village. They lived in Paris and had only arrived that afternoon. Apparently it was so hot that several people across the country had died from heat exhaustion.

I estimated Pierre was a few years older than us, a muscular man, with curly black hair, sharp dark eyes and a wide amiable grin. He wore shorts and open neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms displaying a good deal of body hair. He had the relaxed air of someone completely at ease with himself.

Catherine was more our age - mid 20's. She was slender to the point of being thin with long dark hair and smooth pale skin. Her eyes too, had dark pupils but they sparkled with life in the candlelight. Her face had angular features that defied categorisation. I imagined that artists would love to have her pose for them as an interesting beauty. When she spoke it was quiet, polite and sparing never interrupting and always interesting. She wore a striped sleeveless top revealing long slender arms and a plain skirt.

As the evening progressed, Pierre introduced us to Eau de Vie, a strong clear spirit, available in a variety of flavours, most of which we drank, together with some extremely pungent cheese. Sarah became quite drunk talking animatedly with Pierre and paying little attention to me. Catherine would occasionally try to include me in the conversation by speaking in broken English but it was clear to me that Sarah was punishing me for our earlier row.

The restaurant was closing so we paid the bill and Pierre suggested to Sarah that we walk back to their place for a nightcap. As we walked up through the village Sarah openly flirted with Pierre, laughing at the occasional joke then leaning on his shoulder for support. Catherine and I walked a few paces behind in silence. The heat was still oppressive, hanging like a blanket with little or no breeze. The effort of climbing up the hill was exhausting and I could see patches of Sarah's dress sticking to her as she walked ahead.

Sarah tripped on the cobblestones, swore, and hopped over to some nearby stairs to remove her sandal. She sat down and raised her injured foot, resting it on her knee, to inspect the damage. It was obvious despite the dim streetlights that Pierre, who was standing directly in front of her, was getting a grandstand view of her bare crutch. Pierre said something in French and Sarah giggled saying in French something about it being too hot. Unhurriedly she uncrossed her legs and, accepting Pierre's hand, stood upright and carried on walking leaning against him for support.

The house, on the edge of the village, was typically French, set on a grassy mound with a garage underneath the main living area and steps up to the front door. The living room was baking hot and stuffy. Catherine immediately opened the patio doors that led onto a wooden deck and turned on the outside lights. Pierre handed out glasses of Calvados.

"It's too hot" Pierre said in English "it is a pity we do not have a pool."

"How could we swim anyway without costumes?" Sarah grinned, "you must understand we English are very modest!"

"Yes, I have seen this modesty" Pierre said straight-faced.

Sarah smiled "It's too hot in here I feel like I'm melting". She said standing up and walking out on to the deck. "You can see the whole village," she said leaning against the handrail "you could spy on everyone from here."

"Yes, and everyone can spy on us" Pierre said joining her "You see that mountain over there" he said putting an arm around her waist and pointing into the darkness "that is where we will walk tomorrow."

Sarah glanced back to where I was sitting. There must have been cold fury in my eyes but she just smiled sweetly and looked back to where Pierre had pointed.

Catherine came and sat beside me. "She is teasing you" she said quietly "are you not jealous?"

"Are you?" I said looking her in the eye.

"Oh no" she said cheerfully "why should I - he is my err brother."

My mouth went dry before I could speak and Catherine giggled resting her hand lightly on my forearm. "I am sorry" she said, "You look so funny!"

I turned away and looked at Sarah. Pierre was talking in a low voice in French. Sarah laughed at what he was saying as his hand dropped down to squeeze her bottom through the thin material clinging to her body. Sarah again glanced in my direction to see if I was watching.

My heart was beating like a drum! I was subconsciously relying on Catherine to intervene if things went too far. I felt trapped. After our row there was no way I wanted to act the jealous husband. Perhaps Sarah was relying on Catherine as well?

"Do you think Pierre and Catherine look alike for brother and sister?" I said clumsily.

"Oh yes" Sarah smiled "I think they are very much alike - they make a handsome couple" she mocked turning back to Pierre.

Their heads were inches apart as they talked in low voices. Pierre slipped a finger below her hem and lifted it slightly so he could touch the bare flesh at the top of her leg. Sarah straightened imperceptibly as if she wasn't expecting it but kept smiling and talking. I stood up and went to the toilet to organise my thoughts while sluicing cold water over my face.

When I got back Pierre had slipped his hand under Sarah's dress and was gently stroking the exposed flesh at the base of her bottom. Pierre said something and Sarah spoke without turning her head "Pierre wants to know if you mind him touching me".

"It's not my arse," I said grumpily.

"Well" she said softly "what would you have me do then?"

"You're a big girl now, remember" I said icily "I don't tell you what to do anymore."

Sarah's expression changed fleetingly as the implications of what I had said sunk in. She was on her own.

Keeping his eyes on her the whole time Pierre stepped between Sarah and the handrail raised the back of her dress to her hips and placed a hand on each cheek of her bum. "I think he understood your answer," said Sarah a little shakily.

I watched, transfixed, as this stranger proceeded to caress Sarah's bare arse. Catherine whispered in my ear and made me jump "I think she wants you to rescue her."

"Why? She seams to be having so much fun," I said coldly.

"OK" she said brightly "I like to watch!"

"Turn around" Pierre said in English. Sarah hesitated then slowly turned her back to him to face Catherine and me. As she turned his hands slid round her raising her dress at the front and coming to a stop on her hips. She was now naked from the waist down. She looked straight at me and said, "That's much cooler Pierre, thank you".

"But I think you are still hot," said Pierre sliding one hand down from her hip across her belly and pushing his out-stretched fingers through her pubic hair. "Yes, I can feel the heat just here" he said curling his middle finger and pressing it into her. She gave a little gasp and said something in French, not for the first time, a flash of concern on her face.

Pierre whispered in her ear, glanced up at me then nibbled her neck all the time gently stroking her with his middle finger. Sarah's labia parted making it easy for his finger to delve deeper inside her. She leant back against him with her head to one side giving him access to her neck. He must have found her clitoris as her legs gave way momentarily but she straightened and parted them wide to aid his access still further. By now she was breathing heavily, her eyes staring ahead unfocussed.

"Do you want this to happen?" she breathed.

"I told you, it's up to you, not me. You have control, not me" I said shifting to accommodate my growing erection.

"Don't you care?" she said irritated.

"Don't you?" I said throwing it back at her.

Sarah was clearly very aroused by now. Pierre's finger was glistening wet as it slid smoothly in and out. Suddenly he stopped, quickly pulled off his shorts revealing a huge erection and pulled his shirt over his head. "Now you can see I too am very hot". He said turning Sarah towards him. He took her hands and placed them on his cock. She looked at it in wonder then gently, tentatively explored.

"It's very beautiful," she said running one hand down its length and fondling his tight ball sack. "They are just like people, she said vacantly "they are all different."

Her attitude stiffened and she said something in French. Pierre lay down on the floor of the deck with his head towards us and Sarah went down on all fours above him. Pierre rested his hands on her hips as slowly she lowered herself down until her cunt gently touched the tip of his cock.

She swung her head up and looked directly into my eyes and mouthed "Please?"

We stared at each other for a long time. Slowly I nodded. She smiled at me and pursed her lips in a kiss.

Sarah knelt upright, reached down with both hands, grabbed Pierre's cock and started rubbing the tip against her sweet spot by rocking her hips back and forth. It didn't take long. She screwed up her face and moaned "oh, OH! Aarrgh oh OH! Increasing the speed until she yelled so loud I thought she would wake the whole village.

As she came down from her climax a little, Pierre said something in French. "No I won't take my dress off, that is for my husband," she said looking at me. Her hair was stuck to her forehead, her face red and perspiration was glistening on her arms and legs. "Now it's your turn" she said looking down at Pierre. Very slowly she sank onto his cock, swallowing it an inch at a time until their pubic hair mashed together.

I heard a noise next to me and turned to see Catherine with her skirt pulled up and her hand pressed under her small pink knickers rubbing herself, Her eyes met mine briefly then returned to the scene on the deck outside. Without looking she reached across to my hand and pulled it to her pushing it under her knickers. "This is so sexy" she breathed.

While I brought Catherine relief with my hand I watched Sarah lifting almost completely off Pierre then moving down a little then up, teasing him. Finally she plunged down all the way and he groaned. She lent forward placing both palms on his hairy chest and started pumping up and down, sometimes full strokes sometimes not, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Pierre was ready to explode so she sank onto him and stopped moving for a few seconds while regained his composure. She lifted off fully exposing his shining tool hesitating at the top then plunged all the way down. Slowly she increased the rhythm. Pierre couldn't take anymore and roared as he let go. Sarah took in his full length as he pumped into her, then lifted up again, sank down and ground her pubic mound into him rocking back and forth sending herself over the edge for a second time.

Catherine was much more discreet, she pushed my fingers hard against her sweet spot and threw her head from side to side whimpering as she bucked uncontrollably against my hand.

Sarah lent forward kissed Pierre on the forehead and said "Merci Monsieur." Lifting up gently she disengaged herself and stood up pulling her dress down. She walked unsteadily towards me bent over and cupped my face in both hands. "Thank you" she said and kissed me on the lips. She glanced sideways; my hand was still in the front of Catherine's knickers.

"Come-on" she said, "I think we have outstayed our welcome".

We never saw Pierre or Catherine again.