French Lesson Ch. 04

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She teases her man.
1.3k words
4.67
6k
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Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/07/2022
Created 02/20/2013
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Anyway, it's late in the day and they are by the lilly encrusted lake on a blanket. The scent of the raspberry ripple roses heady and heavy, compounded by the full bloom that he is using to lazily caress her body. Brushing her nipples, thighs, neck, everywhere. His hand is moving the stem almost reflexively. She is on her back, hands behind her hair, one leg raised, open to him. Her only garment, again his shirt, undone.

He lies beside her, head propped up on his hand, admiring the view. Their soundtrack, the crepuscular birds, insects and the soft plop of frogs returning to the water.

They are talking and laughing about last night with such intimacy, that the farmer who is watching them from the field took them to be a couple with a great history.

Yesterday had been Bastille Day. On a whim, they'd driven to Honfleur and checked into a quaint chambre d'hote near the quay. After a quick meal at one of the interchangeable harbour restaurants, they'd joined the party. Enjoying the contagion of the carousel, carnival atmosphere they became playful.

As night fell, they stumbled on to a small square where a makeshift dance floor had appeared. It was a wonderful cliché of fairy lights, local music and chequered tables. He took one.

He asked her to dance.

He acquiesced with the proviso that although enthusiastic, it was not her greatest talent.

He told her that it was one of his and lead her to the floor.

Moondance - they smiled wryly.

But this time he had not been lying. The man was a master holding her with a lightness of touch that inspired greater confidence. A touch on her waist sending her spinning away, then pause then back to his arms. The man controlled her movements with his whole body, eyes, hips, hands.

As the dance progressed so did her enjoyment and she was soon daring him to be bolder and more adventurous with the steps. Her hair had come down by now and was whipping around her pale shoulders, long limbs blurring.. The song ended he and pulled her close kissing her softly as the last few bars faded away, he could feel her heart beating wildly..

So when the young Frenchman, with the well groomed moustache, had approached and asked him if he could dance with his 'Belle Femme',it had been his pleasure to pass over her hand. He knew it would incense her in so many ways and he liked her angry too.

Surprisingly, he had expected her to refuse, she had smiled broadly into the handsome, dark face and had skipped off back to the dance. He felt a little pique, then annoyance.. The classic double bluff. He watched as they danced together to a faster tempo, wild, graceful, if not as skilled.. As she twirled, her chiffon skirt flew up revealing a flash of the pink silk.. Bare legs tonight..

Her full breasts caught the rhythm and he noticed that the French man was enjoying their proximity too.. In spite, his cock twitched for her..

When the music switched to a much slower beat, the French man drew her close, he could see that he was pushing his hips towards hers and she was responding. She caught him watching and smiled, it was not kind.

Witch.

However, his treacherous cock was having none of it, and was now straining to be free. He stood up.

At the same time there was a brief exchange on the floor, he did not catch it. With a shrug, the French man returned her.

Thank you, you have an exceptional lady. Good luck.

What happened? He murmured, watching his retreating back.

He asked for another dance, and I said that unfortunately, although pleasant as that would be, I had to come back because the man I am with tonight, who is not my husband, has promised to fuck me good and proper in that alley behind the square as the fireworks are let off.

Now he understood the look of admiration....

You wouldn't want to make a liar of me...

As the first rocket illuminated the black sky, she had pulled him into the narrow space between two tall buildings. He had pushed her roughly against the brick wall, and kissed her hungrily, possessive, staking. His tongue taking every inch of her. She had replied with the same passion, her hands busy at his belt. His cock was so impatient that it was a struggle to release but soon it was free, seeking home. She held him firmly in her hand, stroking, caressing and leading. His hands were tearing at her blouse, breasts spilling out, eager for his touch and mouth. He squeezed and massaged her already swollen nipples bending down to suck and bite.. They both wanted a bit of rough that night..

Fuck me..

No need to ask..

He snapped the fine silk, it took the warm breeze and she wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing him in. As his engorged cock thrust into her welcoming, tropical pussy, she gasped at the depth of his stroke. Hard, unforgiving and intense. Her heels and position made her cunt proud to meet him and for a time he fucked her like a teenager...selfish and she loved it. His mouth on her.

He lifted her other leg around his waist and she gripped him hard changing the angle again. She stretched her legs out and braced against the narrow walls. Unable to move now she abandoned to his pace and his pleasure..losing herself in him. Her hand grazing and cupping his balls, thumb a tease on his arse. He came hard and true.. Hot spunk bathing her inner core, crying out in triumph. She waited until the pulsing subsided before gradually lowering her legs.... Her swollen clit pressing on to his melting erection.. His mouth became softer and his fingers replaced his cock. Her fingers joined his and it was her turn to set the pressure and the pace .... When she brought her fingers to her lips and sucked hard, relishing the heady cocktail, she came against his hand, thighs clasping him tight, he forced his twisted fingers into her, feeling the reflex gripping and drawing..

They had walked to their room with secret smiles. A state of deshabille..

They had missed the official firework demonstration..

But back to now..

The rose is measuring her skin, dark against her thighs, breasts and tummy, pale against her nipples, mouth and inner lips.. Almost as if by accident, his mouth starts to follow the rose head, one beat behind.. Deep kisses on her neck, under breast, upper thigh then back to her mouth. The temper changes and the kisses replace the conversation.

The rose seems to linger around her sex and before long he is holding her pillow soft thighs apart, lapping at her cunt, sucking her clit and gently probing her arse with a finger.

She is lying back, welcoming the growing storm.

Suddenly she switches, her mouth needing his cock too... Wanting to be penetrated completely... He is still licking her sex, finger fucking her pussy and ass. But now she is taking him too, her mouth a mirror image of her cunt.. As they are discovering their own tempo.. She goes faster, he goes slower.. This is the best dance..

But this is the entree ..

Appetising, whetting, tickling..

He lies on top, she flips him, subtlety, and is riding him. He is prone, she is astride, rising to the trot, dipping and diving, tempting with her mouth and nipples, she is fucking him on a blanket, by a lake..

As they come, he flips her again..so he is driving her into the soft earth as he spills in to her, climaxing with the force of nature into her.. And with no plan or agenda.. Or future..

They lie compleat in the moment.. And it is so good..

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