Gail Overnights

"You want to love me, Ri?" she asked.

"No. Not tonight, I'm emotionally drained." I rolled over but I didn't sleep for a long while.

We rose late in the morning and had a breakfast brunch at a small self service café a few blocks away. I had a tennis game late in the afternoon, and Gail made an appointment for the same time, to have her nails manicured. We decided to sit by the pool in the hotel again. The hairy chest man was there as well, and the pool was full with a group of young university age American girls and boys, talking loudly, having fun. Their presence made the pool area come alive, and it was a pleasure to watch their antics.

I took the car and left at four PM planning to return about six. I returned to the hotel at six thirty and Gail was still out. It gave me an opportunity to call Francoise, a friend that lived in Nice. I had had a liaison with Francoise while on holiday in France, retaliating because Gail had slept with her husband.

I had promised Francoise that I would meet her before we left for Greece, and I realized that time was running out. I called Nice. A man answered, I assumed it was her husband Roger. I asked for Francoise and he simply said, "Moment." Francoise came to the phone and said, "Rian, I'm so glad you called."

"How did you know it was me?" I asked.

"My brother, he said it was a foreigner."

"Am I the only foreigner…?"

Francoise interrupted, before I finished, "You're the only one," she laughed.

We arranged to meet at one in the afternoon, the next day, at the same hotel we had met in the week before.

I dozed off and woke a little after eight. I called the hotel spa and they informed that the beauty salon closed at six. I ordered a salad from room service, read my book, watched TV, and worried. I checked our mobile phone for messages at least a hundred times. I called the front desk for messages. This was very unlike Gail. At ten I called Peter, no answer. I didn't bother to leave a message.

At 11:30P I left a note in the room, and left. I checked the hotel bar. It was crowded; the young American group were all there. No Gail. I went down to the garage for our car and drove to the café around the street from Peter's apartment. It was after midnight. I checked my mobile again. I tried calling Peter again. On the second ring I heard, "Hello," when he answered. I told Peter why I was calling, asking, if Gail was there. He didn't answer at first then he said, "Gail's not here Rian, I haven't spoken to her since last night."

"Thanks Peter, I'll just head back to the hotel. She'll show up."

"Where are you," Peter asked.

"I'm downstairs, in my car, in front of your building."

"Why don't you come up for a minute," he suggested.

I was ready for any suggestion so I went upstairs. Peter was concerned, for me, and for Gail. He made coffee and worked at trying to keep my thoughts occupied, telling me about his trip to the vineyards. At just after one AM I thanked Peter and left. I parked the car and rode to the lobby level.

I checked the bar again, it was closing, and I walked to the elevator with a group of eight or ten of the young Americans. All the elevators were in the lobby, one door was closing as we approached. I wound up with three people and I asked the girl to please press eight, as I moved toward the back.

When the doors opened on my floor I stepped into the hallway and turned right toward our room. Gail was walking down the long hallway, her head down maybe a hundred feet ahead of me. She still didn't see me. When she arrived at our door she stopped, and reached under the hem of her skirt and adjusted something. She brushed her hands over her skirt, touched her hair and then, as she started to put her card in the door, she saw me.

"Ri… you scared me."

"You scared me too," I replied. As we entered the room I added, "I'm glad you're safe." After a while, I added, "Maybe I should call Peter."

"Why? Gail asked.

"He's worried too."

"You called him? Gail asked.

"Yes, I went there, he consoled me."

"Oh Ri," Gail said, her words reflecting empathy, "I'm so sorry."

We said many things during the next hour. Gail was remorseful. I was very angry but worked hard at not being abusive with my words. Last night was bad enough, tonight was a disaster. Gail asked if I wanted to talk. I knew she meant talk about what she had been doing. I said no. I finally said that I was tired and wanted to sleep, "I have a game tomorrow," I lied. Some five minutes later I added, "We had better think about rearranging our Greece trip." I really had just thought saying that would make her feel bad, and I wanted to be hurtful. It wasn't something I was considering.

In the morning we lounged around the room not knowing what to say to one another. As Gail readied for a bath she stuck her head from the bathroom door and broke the ice, "I thought for sure that you would come."

Dismayed I responded, "How could I come?" I replied.

Gail responded, "I told you… just call. I thought you didn't care to come, or you would have called if you wanted me to come back," and then she closed the bathroom door.

I stood dumbstruck. Did she leave a message? I asked myself. I picked up the phone, there was no message sound. The light on the phone was not on, or blinking. I called the operator and asked if I had messages. She excused herself and returned thirty second latter. "Yes Mr. M. you have several messages in your voice mail. Please dial 4711"

I asked the operator "Shouldn't the light blink if I have a message?" The operator assured me that it would. I told her it had not and she had me hang up. A moment later the phone rang, "Is the light blinking sir," she asked. "No," I replied. "I'll report it to engineering, she said.

I dialed 4711 and retrieved my messages. Both were from Gail and one from Peter from this morning. . Gail's message began, "Hi baby. Guess where I am?" She was whispering into the phone. "I'm with Mr. Hairy Chest," Gail giggled; I knew she had been drinking, "In room 506. We could try …three people again, if you'll come down. He's nice… American. Come down as soon as you get back. Love you baby."

Gail's next message was from 6:30 last night. "Hey Ri, where are you?" She was whispering. "You know, Jeff agreed that if I stay he'll suck…remember when I told you what I'd like to see you…," she paused unwilling to say the words she thought, "come down Ri," and in her most alluring tone, "I'm waiting."

I couldn't believe the turn of events and I felt miserable about it. I also didn't understand why Gail started the liaison and, more importantly, why she didn't stop and come back to the room, when I didn't show up.

When Gail was in the bathroom I packed a few things in my tennis bag. We decided to breakfast downstairs. Gail dressed in khaki shorts that had a bib type top. Under the bib she wore a light green cotton shirt. From the side you could tell she was not wearing a brassiere. Her hair was still wet and she wore almost no makeup. My, I thought to myself, she just always looks so appealing.

At breakfast I mentioned that I had to leave a little after 11 AM. Gail assumed it was to play tennis. We went back to the room about 10:30 and I left shortly afterwards. As I walked out the door I simply said, "See you," none of the usual kiss goodbye, or be careful chatter.

I went to the garage and headed straight to Nice. I drove the coastal road, making the most of the picturesque towns and tourists barely dressed. I arrived at the Vendome Hotel at 1:20 PM and Francoise was seated in the lobby waiting for me. We exchanged hugs and cheek rubs, and held hands while we spoke.

Francoise was beaming. She looked so elegant. She was wearing a white knit ladies shirt, with the three button collar open, drawing my eyes to her chest. You could see she had nothing underneath. The shirt was short, just barely reaching the top of her skirt, revealing the skin of her tummy and narrow waist, from time to time.

Her skirt was black and white, a few inches above her knees, and had a pretty large split on one side. She was wearing leather sandals, and her long legs were white, missing the summer tan that everyone seemed to boast, but she still looked ever so attractive..

After ten minutes of talk I excused myself and made my way to the reception desk, Francoise had booked a room in my name, as we had agreed.

We took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked a marathon mile to get to our room. I dropped my tennis case on the floor and turned to Francoise as the door was closing. We just held one another for some time, touching each others back, I would draw back to look at her face, touch her cheeks or hair, then hold her close again.

"It's been a long time Rian, hasn't it?" Francoise said.

"It has, but I have often thought of our time together, then it doesn't seem so distant."

Francoise leaned back to look at me, and laughed. "You always seem to find the nice thing to say."

We undressed. I watched her as she took off her skirt, I marveled at her strong legs, and her behind, and the way it stood high and perfectly rounded, jutted out just enough to make you notice, and want to touch. Her small breasts were the right size to love. They were shaped like rain drops, hanging softly on her thin frame. She had a two inch patch of dark hair above her vagina, and when she stepped out of her panties, I could see the lips of her pussy, and my heart skipped a thump.

Both naked now, we stripped back the bed cover and climbed beneath the sheet. I propped up two pillows and stretched my right arm out, and Francoise nestled close. I could feel the hair on her vagina pressed against me, and her breasts on my arm, We touched each other for a least thirty minutes. I had my hands, and my fingers in every part of her body. I touched her knees, I felt her breast, and ran my hand down her back and felt the curve where her bottom began. I slipped my hand between her cheeks. I touched her anus, I played with her clit, and I put a finger in her and tasted it.

Franscoise touched me. Her fingers touched my lips and she pressed one finger into my mouth. She touched my chest, rubbing it, her palms sliding over my nipples. She reached under me and played with the cheeks of my behind. Her finger found my back hole and she pressed. She took my balls in both hands and moved and hefted, and then she caressed my cock. After many minutes of touching my cock she lifted the sheets and slipped beneath, resting her head on my thighs, and she sucked my cock. Slowly, not to make me cum, but because she was enjoying it.

We both wanted to wait as long as possible before we made love. And when it happened, Francoise had her back to me. One leg was stretched out beside me and the other pulled up toward her chest, when she whispered, "Put it in me."

She was wet, and tight and barely moved as I slid myself in and out, just savoring the warmth and wetness. Francoise moved so that my cock slipped out of her, and she turned to climb over me. When she moved her face above me, she lowered her lips to mine and softly probed until our tongues met and we began searching. We kissed, and twisted our heads to get deeper, and we sucked each others tongue, and lips. She kissed so beautifully.

Francoise crawled a little higher and spread her legs. My cock found the way. I pressed upwards and felt the head enter between her lips, then slide slowly, steadily, into her pussy. When I was completely buried inside her, we kissed again. This time it was with a more immediate passion, with occasional thrusts from me to push deeper into her, or her sliding forward to feel the friction of my cock.

Her eyes would close and she would pout her lips, concentrating on what we were doing. She would look at me, and, if my eyes were open I would look into her eyes, watching the passion build.

I felt a kindred soul to this lady I head met so long ago, and shared so little time with. She made love to me with a quiet assurance, with an openness that I had never before seen in a woman. We didn't fuck. We loved, in spite of the fact that we were not in love.

We made love for thirty minutes or more, before Francoise started to sigh with each movement. Her head went to the side, leaning to her right, her eyes closed, she constantly licked her lips, "Ooh oui," and after several breathy gasps, I felt something wet squirt on my groin, then Francoise humped forward and buried me deep in her belly, sighing, "Ah oui," three or four times as her orgasm swept through her. She collapsed on my chest, her hands on my arms and laid there, eyes closed, without saying a word.

I touched her behind and felt for her wetness as she lay there. I placed my hand between her legs and slide my hand flat against her pussy. She moved her legs apart offering me more. Some five or ten minutes later Francoise moved to her left and lay on her back. With her knees bent she opened her legs exposing her wet pussy and said, "Come to me Rian, love me now."

I bent over watching my cock slid into her. She was very wet, and I thought, very soft. I started slowly but it didn't last long. As I slid deeply Francoise would turn of bend her body in such a way as to press against my cock. I slid freely in and felt strong pressure sliding out. My pace quickened until I felt my orgasm nearing. "I'm cumming," I panted.

"Oui, Rian, you cum," and she pushed herself forward milking my cock with such intensity that it caused me to thrust in rhythm with the sucking feeling she had created. Little bolts of energy coursed through me charging toward my groin and I grasped hold of her as I grew faint from the intensity.

I stayed in the same position for a long time, Francoise's arms wrapped around the middle of my back, When I rolled to my side, I looked at her and she returned my gaze with a smile of comfortable assurance.

We talked for a very long time, fondling each other while we spoke, with no motive other than to touch one another. "I feel very good being with you," I said.

"Yes, I have that sense too," Francoise replied, then she moved to her side, her back facing me, and she scooted very close. Her behind spooned into me and I wrapped my arms around her, and we talked.

Some fifteen or twenty minutes later Francoise moved, leaving a small space between us, and she stretched her arm behind her, her hand searching for my cock. She found me, soft and still sticky, and she started rubbing the head of my cock, hard against the cheek of her behind. My cock was still sensitive and the hard rubbing sent shivers running through me. It wasn't too long before I started to react. As my cock hardened she would rub more towards the crack of her behind. I was soon between her cheeks, and as she rubbed the head of my cock slid over her back hole. Every sensory feeling in my body was focused on the tip of my cock. The sensation was electric.

Francoise raised her legs a bit higher, almost in a fetal position, and now, as the rubbing caused my cock to pass over her hole, she would push back towards me. I felt like each time she would rub past her hole, my cock pressed a little deeper. I placed my right hand to my mouth and filled my fingers with spittle, and placed my hands between us, to wet myself. When she next rubbed against her hole, the very tip of my cock entered her behind. I was poised to rush in, but we just lay still. Her hand was still holding my cock. We waited a minute or more, then she moved ever so hesitantly pressing against me, and more of my cock slid into her behind.

The excitement over the next many minutes, as my cock slowly inched deeper into her behind, was incredible. When I was buried into her, she sighed, and reached her hand behind her and placed it on my thigh, gripping the base of my behind.

I wrapped my arms around her to cup and feel one breast, and began a slow and gentle humping motion. The tightness of her entrance defied belief. We made no sounds at first. Just slow entrance, then withdrawal with the whole of her anus grasped tightly around my cock.

I reached for Francoise's hand that was resting on my thigh, and I gently raised her arm and guided her hand to between her legs. "Touch yourself," I said.

I felt my body on fire, wanting to extract more feeling from each movement. Francoise started to move. What started as tentative touching with her hand had become a steady movement; now She was thrusting back, meeting my forward movement with increasing force.

Francoise's orgasm came upon her like a bolt of lightening, and she began to quietly sound a howl. It seemed to come from somewhere deep within her, and it spurred me to grab her hips and hump deeper and with more force. Her orgasm started with a low and raspy, "Eeehhhhh," and then she twitched and sounded, Eeehhh, ahh Oui," I couldn't contain myself any longer and I slowed, and used less force to better feel the sensation of sliding into her. And, seconds later I groaned, "Aaacchhh," as I erupted into the depths of her bowels.

We lay still for a long time. My cock quickly shrank, and the tightness of her behind squeezed it out dripping with cum. Francoise's first words were, "Rian, c'est pour moi…" then she realized she was speaking French and corrected to English, "It was for me very wonderful."

"Me too," I whispered into the back of her head.

We lay huddled together for a very long time. I didn't want to let her go. Finally, when I heard her tummy gurgle, I asked, "Would you like to get something to eat?" "Yes." She replied. We rose slowly to dress. Every time we passed near one another we reached to touch, or kiss. When we were presentable, we made ready to leave. Since I planned to spend the night, I placed my tennis bag on the end of the bed, Francoise asked, "Are you coming back?"

I nodded, "Yes, I think I'll spend the night."

"You will? she asked, in a surprised tone. We were walking down the hall toward the elevators. Francoise looked at me questioningly, not understanding.

I again replied, "Yes," then thinking it was unfair to not offer some explanation, I added, "I'd like to be away from Gail tonight."

Francoise stopped, starred at my face for a moment, then continued walking without a response. "Not because of me?" she asked,

"No."

Francoise nodded her head yes, acknowledging my no. After a long pause she whispered, "Can I stay with you?"

My eyes doubled in size as I questioned, "Can you?"

She nodded and whispered, "I think I can, I will see, I will call."

We walked a block from the hotel and stopped in a small bar and ordered drinks and sandwiches. Francoise took her mobile phone from the small duffel she was carrying, and made a call. Lots of fast French was exchanged, of which I understand very little. As she made another call, I opened my mobile to check on my messages. It showed two messages. I had the volume turned off so that I would not hear it ring, or signal voice mail.

Francoise organized being away for the night. Here we were at six in the afternoon, with no change of clothes, and the whole night ahead of us. And, we made the most of it, wandering the streets, stopping to have a single drink in three different places, and eating pizza for dinner.

We walked back to the hotel hand in hand. We crossed the hotel lobby at 9:30, went to our room, and undressed without a word spoken. I was naked seconds later and I sat on a chair in front of the desk, watching Francoise. She bent forward as she stepped from her panties and I took pleasure watching her long legs raise, the exposure it created between her thighs, and the just right silhouette of her behind.

Covered by the bed sheet, we moved close to one another and explored. I felt a particular need to kiss Francoise I raised myself on my knees just beside her chest and started by kissing her forehead, then her eyes and ears. I twisted my head to angle into her neck and she giggled at the first brush of mouth that tickled her. I made love to her breast, and kissed every inch of her stomach, then brushed lightly across and through her pussy hair, and across the shaven puff of soft flesh around her slit.