French Connections

bydeliciousthoughts©

With a cry of frustration I dragged my fingers away. I had to find to put these unwanted thoughts out of my mind. The solution hit me instantly. I'd spent the night making love to Pierre and with my husband beside me, I felt secure. It was men that interested me, not women—whatever their colour—and the only man I wanted in my life was naked, in the shower.

I practically rushed out of bed and slipped quietly through the en-suite door.

Pierre's eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw me and I slipped a finger between my lips and gave him my most mischievous smile.

"Want some company, darling?"

I stepped into the shower with him and took the gel from his hands, tipping the bottle so that the liquid covered my palms. I worked them into the creamy lather I needed to cleanse my mind as well as his body.

"You're insatiable," he told me, in that sexy French accent of his.

I giggled and started by sweeping my hands over the smooth skin of his chest. His hands found my breasts as I soaped him and I emitted a throaty growl. I momentarily wondered if Sherrilyn's nipples were as sensitive as mine and violently shook my head to free my mind of the resultant images.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.

I didn't answer but dropped my hand to his cock. This was what I needed. He moaned as I began to stroke his shaft and it grew impressively with each jerk of my curled fingers. When I brought my other hand to his balls, his body twitched.

"Nice and clean," I teased, pulling both hands away.

I leaned closer, reaching around him with both arms and trapping his semi erect cock against my stomach as I caressed the liquid into his back.

Our eyes met as I flirted with the top of his ass and we smiled at one another. I slid my hands down and onto his hard buttocks and worked the gel into the crevice of his asscheeks. He moaned again and I leaned forward to run my tongue around first his right nipple and then his left.

Closing my eyes, I indulged myself for a few moments until my imagination took over and they were chocolate coloured nipples I was pleasuring.

I slithered downwards in attempt to rid my mind of the image and the water cascaded over me like a waterfall as I dropped to my knees. It dripped off my wet hair, dropping onto my face as I licked along the length of his hard cock.

Sherrilyn didn't have one of those...

I took my time, staring upwards into his eyes as I licked from root to tip. This blow job would be my best ever work, defining me as a person and emphasising my sexual preferences. It would cleanse my mind of all other illicit thoughts.

I took the head into my mouth and curled my tongue around his crown. That always excited him. He widened his stance as I gently sucked and then he grunted when I took his hard balls in my hand. The water bouncing off our bodies heightened the moment and I coated him with my saliva, letting it drool down his length before working it into his stiffness with both hands.

"Good, darling?" I asked, slurping off his cock.

For some reason I need his confirmation, his approval.

Pierre glanced down at me as I sucked around the head again. I loved that dreamy look in his eyes. It confirmed everything I needed to know. I playfully ran my tongue around my lips and then lifted his cock upwards, holding it there for a few tantalising seconds before licking along the underside of his shaft.

He groaned out loud and cursed in French.

"Do you enjoy watching your wife do this?"

There I was again, seeking approval. When his grip on my hair tightened, I slid my lips down to his balls. One by one, I sucked them into my mouth. The way his cock jerked told me he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Cum for me, Pierre," I slurped. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to be humiliated. "On my face and in my mouth..."

I frantically swallowed down on his entire length again. This time the need to tease had gone. His grip tightened in my hair and saliva dripped from my mouth as I frantically worked on him. I gripped his balls more tightly and took the thick base of his crown between my teeth, growling like a dog with a bone.

He sent a volley of curses into the air and tried to drag my head away. But I wasn't going to be denied my prize.

I momentarily held him there, trapped between my lips, while my eyes flicked upwards into his. We both knew the moment had come.

When I plunged my mouth downwards again, he planted the soles of his feet on the floor of the tub and roared out his first release. The sensation was almost overwhelming. I swallowed hard then jerked my head away, taking the second blast across my right eyelid. The next hit me across the base of my nose and I reached up with my tongue to lick it between my lips.

Still, he wasn't finished. Neither was I. With a snarl, I took him between my lips again, urging out the final blast. I almost creamed between my legs as it coated the insides of my mouth.

Sitting back on my haunches, I panted hard as I stared upwards into his creased face. My mind was consumed with an overwhelming sense of relief. I loved cock, not pussy. Françoise and Sherrilyn were returning to college tomorrow.

No more temptation.

*

Getting through the day had been easier than I'd anticipated.

Maybe it was the blow job, but more so because the teenagers had been on their best behaviour throughout. I knew I should have taken Françoise to one side and had a woman to woman chat, but it was as if yesterday hadn't existed. She seemed so natural around me that I didn't have the heart to raise the subject.

Besides, her sexuality was her own business. That's what Sherrilyn had said. I weakly ignored the fact that going down on another woman in public wasn't exactly the best way to express that sexuality, nor was servicing four black women, one after the other, as part of this thing called the Black Sorority.

Why did that thought make my body temperature soar?

But ignoring those extreme acts was a convenient way out of my predicament. Why create a problem by raising the subject when she'd soon be back at college?

Sherrilyn's attitude had been different, too. She'd reined in her blatant sexuality and I was shocked to realise that part of me had been disappointed. I'd found myself watching her, craving another helping of the sexual interplay, trying to find a way to manoeuvre some time alone with her. If it had been her intention to turn the tables, she'd played her part to perfection.

Alcohol was partly responsible for my state, of course. Too much drink induced an intense feeling of horniness whereas it invariably sent Pierre into a deep sleep.

Because of his visit to Geneva, he had promised Françoise and I that we'd have his full attention today. Apart from a couple of morning telephone calls, he'd been as good as his word. The four of us had enjoyed an unhurried lunch at a local tavern and that's where the drinking had started. By the time we headed back to his mansion, we'd consumed several bottles of expensive wine.

More drink had followed throughout the rest of the day while we'd discussed Françoise's future, some of my more glamorous modelling shoots and a number of Pierre's more extravagant adventures. By the time we needed to change for dinner, the four of us were in various states of intoxication.

I'd had Madeleine bring us some black coffee when we'd retired to our room. I didn't want Pierre falling asleep during dinner. I'd drunk some, too, in an attempt to calm myself. I'd have fucked him again but it wouldn't have removed the itch that had crept back into my system.

Get through the evening, I told myself. That's all I had to do.

*

"Dad's always funny in this state," Françoise suddenly announced.

We'd met again on the patio for pre-dinner drinks half an hour ago. Despite our intentions to slow down, we'd all enjoyed a couple more glasses of red.

"People think he's stuffy, having such an important job," she slurred to Sherrilyn and I. "But he knows some great jokes."

Naturally enough in the circumstances, Pierre responded by telling a couple of humorous stories, but then egged on by his tipsy daughter he began to go through his entire repertoire. It was so awful and yet so funny that the four of us were soon in stitches even at the weakest of his jokes.

That was when Sherrilyn made her move. It caught me by surprise. Françoise and her father were in animated conversation while they helped themselves to more red wine and the young black woman took my arm and pulled me to one side.

"What d'you think?" she asked, holding out her hands.

With anyone else it could have been an innocent gesture. But not with her. The invitation was to admire her body, not the short yellow sundress.

"You look good," I simply said.

It was the truth. Her gleaming breasts thrust proudly against the material and the two buttons she'd left undone allowed her heavy cleavage to spill over the top.

"Thank you, Adrianna. Did you confess to your husband?"

I played dumb. "Confess?"

Sherrilyn smiled. "About his stunning wife masturbating by the pool while watching his daughter go down on me. That was even worse than spying on us from the balcony, don't you think?"

I pulled myself to my full height and ignored the pitter-pattering beat of my heart.

"I'm not having this conversation, Sherrilyn."

"Did you finish yourself off when you reached your room?"

I bit down on my lower lip. If only she knew.

"I told you I'm not having this conversation..."

"Tell me this. What made you run away so suddenly? I was only offering what you wanted. I told you, it's the eyes that are the give-away. It's there now, that look. You're craving for it all right, aren't you, Adrianna?"

"Craving for what?" I defiantly asked.

Did I actually want to hear the teenager say the words again?

"What lots of white women crave. Black pussy."

The words evaporated every piece of good intention in my body. How could she make me feel like this? So quickly?

"My husband's listening," I lamely replied, feeling weak at the knees.

"He's talking to his daughter," she said, stepping closer. "She's so cute she can wrap him around her little finger. Look at them."

I glanced in their direction. Françoise was sitting on her father's lap now, arms wrapped around his neck, and the two of them were laughing uproariously. The hem of her white dress had risen up her leg to expose most of her tanned thigh and any casual observer could have mistaken them for lovers.

"Besides," Sherrilyn continued. "He's far too drunk to know what's going on between us."

I stared at her. She looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and yet the sexual vibes she was transmitting were hitting their mark.

"Nothing's going on between us," I blurted.

"There's not?"

She ran a finger across my cheek and along my lips, smiling into my eyes as I partly opened my mouth to her touch.

"Remember my taste?" she asked.

She took my hand as, facing me, she moved directly between Pierre and I. Not that it mattered. He was too busy with his daughter to take any notice. Holding my wrist, she slowly pulled my hand under the hem of her dress.

"No, Sherrilyn," I gasped.

My objection made no difference. I could have resisted, tried to pull away, but I did nothing. She placed my hand onto the cool skin of her lower stomach.

"No panties," she whispered, retaining my gaze.

Her grip guided my hand downwards. The feeling of her smooth, soft flesh was intoxicating and everything began to close in at once.

"Feel me," she instructed.

My gaze flickered to Pierre and Françoise over her right shoulder but my hand couldn't resist the invitation. My chest tightened and I breathed through my mouth. When I cupped her naked mons venus, I felt dizzy with adrenalin.

"Do it," she told me, her breath hot against my cheek. "Finger me..."

I should have resisted, but she had me. My whole body was on fire. I pressed my fingers into the soft, yielding flesh and when she pushed her hips forward, I slid a single finger inside her sweet wetness.

The groan she rewarded me with found its way between my moist thighs.

"Black pussy," she teased. "Those beautiful eyes tell me everything."

She slowly pulled my hand away and held it up between us, directing it towards my mouth. I knew what she wanted. I wanted that, too.

Staring into those deep black eyes, I began to suck on my finger as if it was a penis. She nodded in silent encouragement and I sucked harder, savouring the taste of her teenage juices as I drew them into my mouth.

"Tastes good, huh?" she tantalisingly whispered, pulling the hem of her yellow sundress dress back into place again. "Just wait until you drink from the well."

*

I'd been like a zombie throughout dinner. My emotions were being pulled apart. I wanted to avoid the voluptuous black girl until she'd left our house and yet I wanted to experience everything she had to offer.

Fortunately, Pierre had been far too inebriated to realise that anything was wrong and both Françoise and Sherrilyn had kept him entertained with stories of their friends and some of the things they got up to at college. Everything sounded tame, of course. But I knew the true story.

I'd refused any further alcohol, though it was far too late for that to have any effect. Pierre, on the other hand, continued to imbibe all evening long. It was as if Madeleine had been given specific instructions to keep his glass filled.

Sherrilyn had constantly included me in the conversation, but she had an ulterior motive. Each reference brought with it a soft touch of my skin by her hand, fingertips, or a surreptitious brush of her leg under the table. If her intention was to ramp up the sexual frisson floating around my body, she was successful.

My mind had eventually wandered off into a world of its own when I felt a soft tap on my arm. It was Françoise, standing beside me.

"Doesn't dad look sweet?" she giggled.

I turned my eyes towards him. He was slumped back on his chair, eyes closed, gently snoring. Goodness knows how long he'd been that way.

"I've just told Madeleine," she explained. "She'll make sure he gets to bed."

"Good." Sherrilyn smiled at me as she brushed her fingers through her black curls and pushed back in her chair. "Time for some real fun..."

Chapter 4

I stood on wobbling feet, asking myself what I was doing in Sherrilyn's bedroom, even though the answer was etched all over my sex-fuelled mind.

The combination of alcohol and anticipation making me feel disorientated and I rested a hand on the table beside me to steady myself. Sherrilyn sat on the bed, sexily swinging her long legs from side to side as she watched me. The coy smile on her face left no room for misinterpretation.

"Feeling it, Adrianna?"

She flicked open a third button on her yellow sundress as she spoke. More of her ebony coloured cleavage tumbled free and my heart began to palpitate.

I swung around as I heard the sound of the key being turned in the lock behind me. Naïvely, it hadn't occurred to me that Françoise was still in the room. She leant back into the door, as if confirming I was trapped between the two.

"Don't worry, Adrianna."

It was Sherrilyn's soothing voice. She could see the uncomfortable look on my face at the sight of my stepdaughter and I thought she was reassuring me. But as usual her words were designed to increase the sexual heat.

"She's got off a couple of times on the thought of her new stepmother eating black pussy, haven't you baby?"

My body almost melted. I opened my mouth to speak but no words would come out. Then Françoise was suddenly behind me, her hands on my bare shoulders. Before I knew it she had slipped her fingers around to unfasten the buttons on the front of my dress. She allowed it to fall to the floor and then slid her hands to my back. My nipples hardened as she released the clips of my bra.

I turned my gaze back to the bed and found that Sherrilyn had removed her dress. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her magnificent naked body. She crooked a finger at Françoise.

"Come here, baby."

When Pierre's daughter obediently moved towards her, she cupped her black breast and offered it to my stepdaughter. Françoise eagerly fell forward and sucked one of those chocolate coloured nipples between her lips.

"See how much she loves my tits?"

Sherrilyn's voice was throaty as she asked me the rhetorical question. She raised one foot onto the bed, opening herself to my gaze, and stroked her sex expectantly.

"You're going to love this, too, Adrianna. Come here, baby."

I tried to remain where I was but the instruction was undeniable and the sight before me was intoxicating. I felt my legs move forward of their own volition.

"On your knees..."

I sank downwards as ordered. The control she exerted was as much a part of the moment as the black skin that so excited me. Up close, her sex was even more enthralling than it had looked by the pool.

"Come and get it..." she cooed, crooking a hand behind my head.

I gasped for breath as she drew me forward and my tongue licked across my lips in anticipation. The first hesitant touch of my tongue on her glistening black flesh unbelievably sent an orgasm flashed through my own body.

I was actually cumming just from the feel and taste of her sex!

Sherrilyn stroked my long brown hair as if she understood, allowing the tremors to work their way through my body before pulling my face back to her body.

"Black pussy makes you that hot, Adrianna? Show me what you can do..."

I instantly responded, unable to resist the glistening folds in front of my face. My fantasies had now reality and I lapped along the length of her labial lips, savouring a taste that was better than any fine wine of Pierre's. I worked slowly to begin with but after a short while my arousal took over and I began to lick frantically, like a thirsty cat being offered its cream.

"Take your time," Sherrilyn corrected me, tugging my hair. "There's no hurry."

I had to force myself to hold back, such was my intense need. I slowed my pace, licking along the whole length of her sex, delighting in the way she stroked my hair in encouragement. My eyes rose upwards to find her smiling down at me. Her other hand was cupped around Françoise's head as she suckled on one nipple and then the other. I wanted those black breasts in my mouth too.

"Wait a moment," she suddenly said.

I paused at the instruction, inches away from her most intimate of places and obediently waited for permission to continue. She whispered in Françoise's ear and my stepdaughter reluctantly moved away, out of my sight. Turning back to look at me, she stroked my cheek.

"Keep looking at me with those eyes..." she murmured.

She pushed her body back on the bed, crossing her arms under her head as she lay back and made herself comfortable. When she stroked her fingers across her sex, I understood the instruction instantly. Crawling up and onto the bed beside her, I settled myself between her thighs.

Dipped my head back to her waiting sex, I flattened of my tongue and traced the contours of her prominent mound. With a lustful growl, I covered every inch of flesh available to me, unaware of what she had planned.

"Smile for the camera..."

It took a moment for the words to resonate. When they did, a cold chill ran through my body and I jerked my head to the left as I heard a click Then another.

Her whispered instruction to Françoise was suddenly clear. My stepdaughter stood beside us, camera in her hand, capturing every expression on my face. She clicked again as Sherrilyn raised her sex to my lips, and continued to fire off one shot after another as the teenager dragged my head back in place.

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