Gail Surprises Rian

I drove up the coastline toward Antibes, and stopped at the Hotel du Cap. There were players around, and a local pro we knew was on court. He was pleased to see me and offered to set up a few games. “Truthfully,” he added, “most of the guests at the moment were hackers.”

I continued down the coast toward Nice and I stopped before Nice for a sandwich. Something subliminal must have triggered me to think of calling Francoise. She was a woman I had met at the Hotel du Cap two years ago. We had a brief affair, almost in retaliation when I had learned Gail had dallied with her husband. I carried a miniature Cartier address book in my wallet, and quickly found her number. I dialed on my mobile and a child answered. In the best French I could muster, I asked for Francoise. The child paused for a lengthy while, I thought she didn’t understand, and then I heard her whispering to someone. Finally a response, “Allo,” I recognized the voice of Francoise and I identified myself.

“Oh Rian,” she responded, obviously pleased. “How nice to hear your voice,” and we proceeded, at first tentatively, to exchange niceties. Then we asked questions, and finally we felt comfortable being suggestive. “Where are you,” she finally asked. “In Nice, passing through on my way to Monaco,” I answered, and I explained our holiday plans and my today’s schedule. She persisted, “Can we meet?”

Well of course I would not let the opportunity pass. Francoise told me where to go and we met forty minutes later at the Vendome Hotel. She looked as lovely as I remembered; her hair cut short, barely any makeup except for a splash around her eyes. We exchanged small talk covering our goings-on over the last year, I told her about our presently being ensconced in a yacht in Cannes. She laughed, she shared some talk about herself and Roger, and before long we had our hands on the table, fingers entwined. When I left an hour and a half later, we promised to get together sometime during our visit.

On the way back to Cannes I stopped at a small tennis club in Antibes where I had once played with the pro. He remembered me, and at my prompting he called a friend in Cannes that worked at the Club Martinez. He made an appointment for me and, with his directions I went straight to the Martinez to arrange my tennis play during our stay. I gave them my credit card for billing, and organized a game for the next day. I also asked if he could organize a doubles for the following day. He said he would have to wait until tomorrow as the only person he knew was out of town today. I knew the routine. He was anxious to see our level of play.

I arrived back at the boat at four fifteen, and Charlotte and Gail were sitting in the living area drinking V-8 juice. They looked so scrubbed and relaxed I commented, “Wow! What beauty shines through after a little pampering.” Charlotte looked relaxed and scrubbed, and Gail looked radiant, her usually flawless skin was glowing.

Charlotte interrupted my admiring glance. “Rian, firstly, Duncan has planned dinner tonight at the Palm Beach Casino. I hope that’s convenient?”

“That works well for us.” I said, looking at Gail.

Charlotte continued, “And,” she played with a pause, “We thought a party coupled with a weekend trip would be nice and we wonder if you and Gail approve.”

Again I looked at Gail and she responded before I could speak, “I already told her I think it would be fun.”

Charlotte interjected, looking at me with a half smile which made me feel like she was teasing me, “You know, there’s no tennis when we sail, but we make up for it,” she said.

I nodded, smiling “I think we’re both looking forward to the sailing,” I countered, and for some unknown reason I shuddered, as from a cold chill.

Dinner at the Palm Beach was simple and terrific. Most of the staff knew Duncan and catered to his every whim. We started with Champagne and opted to continue throughout the meal. Before it was over we had had too much to drink. The conversation with Duncan was delightful. Whatever he said he reduced to words of precise meaning. He was very politically informed with an uncanny ability to remember names and dates. I was very impressed. After dinner Duncan ordered a Port for each of us. “If you aren’t a Port drinker, you should be,” he said, “It is by far the most civilized drink.” And we toasted cheers to one another.

As we finished coffee Duncan asked of no one in particular, “Shall we try our luck at the tables for a while?” We left the dinning room with Charlotte on my arm and Duncan a step behind Gail and touching her arm as he spoke, “I would imagine you are lucky,” he said to her, “ I’ll spot you some chips if you promise to share the winnings.” He had now laced his arm in Gail’s as we walked toward the casino. “I’m not a gambler,” Gail said, but in spite of the smile her shyness was showing.

“Not at all?” Duncan asked.

“Not at all,” she confirmed, “Except for a numbers game I sometimes play.”

Duncan insisted, “Oh, come on my dear, you play roulette for me and I’ll play your numbers game with you.” Gail just smiled and looked at me for help. “Is it a deal,” Duncan asked offering his hand. I knew that Gail was nervous about taking and maybe loosing his money so I smiled and nodded, urging her to shake on the deal.

I watched at the roulette table for a short while. The three of them had taken seats. Gail was excited and nervous with the stack of chips that Duncan had ordered and placed in front of her. I watched Gail energize when she won, and look almost apologetic toward Duncan when she lost. In all however, Gail was a winner, albeit not by much, and that allowed Duncan to boast his perceptiveness on the ride home.

In the taxi from the casino, true to his word, Duncan asked about the numbers game. Gail explained it and they played a few rounds, with Gail winning three of four, and Duncan acting frustrated in the loser roll. It was a trick game that I knew well, and I reckoned that soon enough Duncan would figure it out. By the time we reached the boat Duncan was obsessed with the game, while Gail, smartly so I might add, declined to play further. Duncan raised the stakes. “OK,” he said, “let’s make this more challenging… and rewarding. Each time I loose, it’s a dinner for one person, your choice of guests, champagne included.”

By this time we were back at the boat. I noticed that as we were walking up the gangway there were lights burning and music from the yacht beside us. Gail, Charlotte and I sat in the living while Duncan mixed champagne and cassis for us, then resumed challenging Gail at her numbers game.

Charlotte stepped in at this point speaking for Gail, sort of protecting her from Duncan. “Come now Duncan, she can’t wager against that. She has nothing to lose.” Duncan was quick to reply, “Beg to differ my love, firstly she has won each game, and she has a lot she can offer to lose.” Duncan’s retort was classic, “Why Duncan, what are you suggesting. You expect her to wager her britches?” He was quick again, “Whatever she has that is worth wagering, why not make it a real wager,” he said. Gail was looking one to the other surprised at the turn of events, but smiling, not upset.

Duncan seemed to be thinking for a moment then added, “Well, with Gail’s permission, the wager might be interesting if…” and there was a lengthy pause, “Each time you loose it’s represents a guest for dinner, and an article of your clothing too. Each time Gail looses, we three all loose an article with her.” “Deal,” Duncan quickly said. Gail looked at Duncan smiling, wondering where this was going, then while looking at me she said, “OK, I’m game.”

But the game did not last. Gail won two of the three they played. I was certain she allowed Duncan to win the middle game they played. I assumed she was trying to throw him off. They agreed to continue tomorrow, or whenever, beginning again where they left off.

We bade Charlotte and Duncan goodnight and walked hand in hand to our cabin. In moments I was in my shorts and in the bathroom in front of the mirror. When Gail came in I was brushing my teeth and I mumbled through foam filed mouth, “How was the Spa and facial today.” Gail was standing to my left in front of another mirror wiping her face with cotton. She stopped for a long moment, looking at me through her mirror, “You know,” she replied, “I still can’t figure it out.” I looked at her questioningly. She continued, “The Spa part was strange… I mean the massage. But the facial was great, didn’t you think so?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered, “Your face, your skin, looked fresh, scrubbed.” Gail was busy again but sounded an “Uhmm, I thought so too.” I asked her, “What was strange?”

Gail began, “When we were in the taxi on our way over, Charlotte said that I could “…have any service I wanted.” I didn’t think anything of it even though she mentioned it again just before we arrived. I had a facial and she went off somewhere else. I had to wait about ten minutes for my massage so I sat in the pool area. Charlotte came out of one room and walked across the pool area with a masseur following her. She stopped and commented on the facial. We talked for a minute then she said, “The massage will be great too, ask for the extended service,” her emphasis on extended.

”The massage was good,” Gail continued, “Though he was a little strong for me. Halfway through the massage the masseur, Jacque, asked me if I wanted the full service. For a moment I thought, if he presses any harder I can’t take it, so I said, “What you are doing is fine, thanks.” Five minutes later he asks again, and now I am guessing what Charlotte was trying to tell me. Sure enough, in the taxi on the way home Charlotte asks me, “Did you have the extended service?” I Smiled at her and said, “No, I didn’t know how much it would cost, and I was ashamed to ask.” Gail was now leaning toward me, taken up with her explanation, animated in repeating to me that Charlotte had said, “Oh my dear, I should have informed you. You missed out this time. Next time you will be my guest, I will arrange everything.”

I watched Gail walk from the bathroom in her Benetton night shirt. It had a deep V neck and was short enough to make your heart ache for more. She smiled at me with affection and when she reached the bed she knelt on one knee and stretched her face upward to kiss me. She pulled back the cover and sat leaning on a stack of pillows, her legs partially covered. I moved besides her resting my face on her thigh, now aware of the slight scent of the Bulgari perfume she had recently taken to wearing.

“What do you make of Duncan,” I asked. Gail had her hand on my shoulder and was lightly touching me.

“In what way?” she asked.

I responded, “Is the game and the gambling a come on?”

Gail said nothing at first, still rubbing, and then finally commenting, “He’s flirting, I sense it.”

I asked, “How far do you think he will go?”

She stopped rubbing and moved her legs slightly apart as I started to caress her thigh. Gail finally answered, “I think that depends on me. I know he likes me.”

I was now feeling her leg, softly touching her thigh. My face was turned so that my mouth was touching her left thigh, and I lightly kissed her from time to time. “Do you intend to encourage him?” I asked. I felt Gail’s head move and when I looked up she was smiling at me.

“I don’t know Ri, I thought about it.” After a moment or two she added, “I don’t think so.” She was quiet again and my hand started to explore further. “But… I think he’s cute,” she added. I looked up again thinking she was teasing me. No smile this time. She was musingly gazing ahead.

Touching Gail was having its effect and she separated her legs further, allowing me to touch her more intimately. I slide my hand from her thigh to between her legs, running my finger into the space at the top of her thigh, I loved the closeness that place imparted.

Earlier this year I found a net site that wrote about and had graphics on the G spot. One Sunday morning, when Gail and I were both relaxed and eager for sex, we experimented. We spent hours trying, and finally succeeded. I was absolutely amazed at the intensity of her reaction, and Gail was obviously both thrilled and satisfied. Since then, Gail’s unspoken lead to my touching her that way was to sit up in bed leaning on pillows, like now.

I lifted her shirt and ran the flat of my hand across her stomach, then softly scratched my finger through her neatly trimmed hair. I nonchalantly commented, “Isn’t Duncan a little on the mature side… for you?” I had rolled over her right leg and was now on my stomach, between her parted legs, with my face just above her thighs. My fingers had made their way down to her slit and I started to explore.

Gail finally answered. “I would not expect to be interested but, I actually thought about it… about him today.” She paused a moment, “Does that sound strange?”

I didn’t answer. I was sliding two fingers inside of Gail and her pussy was already moistening. I softly kissed around her thighs and through her hair, then lightly placed my lips upon her clit and gently sucked. I could taste her wetness and I was getting excited by her slight movement. Gail had both hands on my head and when I looked up she had both eyes closed, concentrated on my loving her. I finally propped my index finger under my middle finger and pushed deeper into Gail, searching for the spot. I soon found the nubs, that special place, and began rubbing and pressing.

I remember how surprised I was the first time, at how hard I actually had to push and rub. Now, the rhythm of my movement and my continued kissing through her hair and around her thighs was causing her involuntary movement. I looked up; Gail’s forehead was furrowed in concentration, her eyelashes fluttered even though her eyes were closed. It looked like she was smiling from the pleasure, I studied her face and thought, my oh my, even from this angle she is so lovely.

I wasn’t pumping in and out. I was touching on a tiny spot, trying to force my fingers to move in circles. Gail was very lubricated now; it allowed my hand to slide into her more deeply, making my finger movement easier. Her hips were moving slightly, humping forward of their own accord. I did not have to move any faster, just steadily. I sensed the feeling was intensifying; soon she would have an orgasm. She stiffened and lifted her behind from the bed, “Ohh, aahhh,” her hands were grasping my head, “Ohhh, oh Ri,” she sighed. For minutes she continued moaning and saying my name. I desperately strove to place my mouth as close to her pussy as possible. I knew she would soon flood with passion. Now her moans were low sounds, signaling each charge she felt course through her, “Ohh, aaaghhh… Ri.” Then began the telltale liquid, it was so copious that it squished out over my hand. She was coming now, so intensely that her mouth was open but made no sound. I tried to put my mouth on her clit, above my hand. . She stiffened again then started to tremble as the feeling deepened in intensity. The trembling became more exaggerated and she continued to softly moan “Aahhh, ohahhh,” then catching her breath she would begin again, gasping, “Aahhh, ohhh,” over and over. Her pussy was pouring liquid onto my hand, her fingers now clutching my hair. It was so exciting for me to feel and see her orgasm. And, as her orgasm and the trembling subsided, I hurriedly took my fingers from inside her and placed my mouth over her wet pussy. I loved the taste of my wife’s passion.

Minutes went by with nothing being said. I rested my face on her thigh. Finally Gail whispered, “That was wonderful Ri.” She had that just loved look upon her face, that timeless moment when every woman looked like Venus. She continued, “I only wish I could do it for you,” she said.

Oh, goodness, Gail exclaimed, look at the bed. A huge wet circle was under her behind. Gail rose and came back to the bed with a towel. She lifted the sheet and placed the towel on the mattress then covered it with the sheet. “Move over,” she said and she cuddled close to me. “Let me love my love,” Gail said, as she reached to touch me… and we continued into the early morning hours.

The next day we all seemed to be heading in opposite directions. I had organized tennis, Gail and Charlotte had planned to lunch with Tamara, and Duncan had meetings planned in Nice. A car was waiting for him even before I left to play.

After tennis I walked the streets and wound up shopping. I found an Italian made blue suede zip front windbreaker which I bought for myself. I passed a small ladies boutique where I saw a dress, which I could well picture Gail wearing. Since it was on sale, and I was familiar with Gail’s size, I bought it with the understanding it could be returned. “Actually,” the salesgirl said, “If you telephone we will pick it up and credit your card.” She smiled, “Now that is service, no?”

When I returned it was late afternoon. Duncan was drinking Port and watching CNN. I sank into an old very comfortable large chair with huge wide arms. We chatted, mostly about world affairs. I was amazed at his understanding of issues. For every issue we confronted he had an assessment, knew the precipitating cause, and in depth details. I was impressed with how informed he was, and how he applied his knowledge to mitigate the sharp edge of issues.

”Have you firmed up your trip with Mr. Giancomo?” he asked, and he mentioned my friend Giancomo’s family name.

“Yes,” I said. “We have planned a week at Simi. I believe we have a house.” Then I added, “It’s a Greek island.”

“Yes,” Duncan said, “I know it. It’s a perfect choice.” I nodded. Duncan continued, “How long have you known Mr. Giancomo?”

“Actually, we met him through Tamara.” I replied. “We visited together in Bariloche this last December as well.” I was surprised at his interest. He continued, switching to another thought without reference, “Did Charlotte tell you we have a small reception on board tomorrow,” he asked. “No,” I replied. Duncan added, “There are some friends arriving from Hungary, they’ll be on board one night. Charlotte thought she would make a gathering of it.”

The girls arrived, chatting loudly, and a bit giddy. Both carried a pink carnation. Charlotte quickly announced, “Tamara has corrupted us. We’ve been drinking Kirs all afternoon. I’m certain I drank a dozen... almost.” They both had enjoyed the afternoon. Charlotte was sitting beside Duncan on the three place couch opposite me. Her dress rode up her legs when she sat. She was turned toward Duncan speaking to him but she took a moment to look at me, telling me she knew that I was getting a show. She was a sexy lady, whatever her age.

We sat and talked about the reception tomorrow, there was another party planned for the next evening, before our little sailing trip. Duncan went off for a few minutes and returned with yet another bottle of wine, we laughed and talked, Duncan dazzled Gail with his intelligence, and Charlotte surprised me with her openness. I remarked to myself that the more I was around her the more I could see and feel her attraction, she was truly sensual.

As it started to darken Duncan asked Charlotte if we had plans for dinner. “Oh yes,” she exclaimed, “Tamara has it all organized. She has instructed me not to plan, she is having dinner delivered.” Twenty minutes later a small car pulled alongside and two Chinese men carried bag after bag of food on board. We feasted on dumplings, and lettuce wrapped vegetables, soups with snow peas floating on top, fried noodles, duck and chicken and pork in delicately flavored slices, and a dolce of sliced fruits to dip in hot honey.

We continued to drink and Duncan suggested that Gail and he begin the numbers game again. Both girls burst out laughing. Duncan looked at me and I motioned with my hands outstretched, palms upward, suggesting that I too did not know what was so funny. “What’s so funny,” he asked Charlotte. The girls looked at one another and Charlotte said, “Shall I tell them?” Gail, her laughter subsided but still with a broad grin, nodded. “Well,” Charlotte began, “We had planned to put on five pairs of shorts and underwear when next we played the game.” Duncan smiled, “Schemers, both of you,” he said. I commented, asking Gail, “Were you convinced you would loose?” She replied, “He’s a quick study, one never knows.” Charlotte still did not know that there was a trick to winning.