Kitty Party in Paris Ch. 01

From an idea from Dalhia57

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Kira had boarded the high speed train in Metz at 06:49. She was on the way to Paris as she did about every two months. She had kissed her French husband goodbye and left hurriedly. As usual, she had attracted widespread attention from the other travelers, as she was wearing a saree in Metz' monumental station. She was resting in a cozy compartment. The duration of the trip, one hour and twenty minutes for about three hundred kilometers (little short of two hundred miles) was a happy transition.

The previous day, she had had a garden party in her house with friends. She had been wearing a simple tank top and a denim miniskirt with platform sandals and she had been chatting with her French friends of long. She had been again Khyrah, the wife of Dan F..., a scientist as she had been before they had met prince Kyrhan in India. Since that encounter, she had been also, under the faked identity of Kira Chowdhury, the Indian wife of Prince Kyrhan Singh.

Her indomitable energy and devotion to her new husband had made her a perfect assistant and counselor to him. She had especially managed the restoration of his derelict family castle and transformation into a luxury hotel. Kyrhan had proved a very demanding husband and he had steadfastly pushed her to adopt Indian customs such as wearing this saree, turning veggie, making offerings to Indian gods. She had also submitted to Kyrhan's permanent erotic wishes. Her Indian husband wasn't selfish : he had allowed her to commute to France, about one month on two. When she was here, she was an ordinary French woman, wearing most of the time French style garments except when Kyrhan was coming to visit his friend Dan.

Life was somewhat strange : when she traveled from New Delhi to Paris or back with Kyrhan, the first class cabin was usually empty and Kyrhan considered it very exciting to fuck her on her seat, in the lobby or in the plane toilets with the risk of being caught by an air stewardess. But when she was alone, they were usually several other Indian women, usually wives of Indian expatriates living in Paris, Brussels, Luxembourg or in cities around. As Kyrhan always accompanied his wife to the airport, Kira was always wearing a saree. Her success in the management of the hotel and her important social and charity activities in India had made her quite a celebrity. She often appeared on India news and recently in a chat on BBC channel.

Several of the women she met on the planes had asked for autographs. They had exchanged phone numbers and had chatted, even when she was in France. They had decided to meet in Paris every two months when Kira was in France for a kitty party where they could chat together without the boring presence of men. There would be Indian pastries and fruits, and often, Kira came back with a DVD of the latest Bollywood film that was presented to the delighted crowd.

Kira needed that moment to switch roles from Khyrah F to Maharani Kira Singh, the organizer of the event who would preside on the day and be the confident of all the girls who had problems with their jobs, children or husbands. She would try to help them as she could. She had proved shrewd, helpful, caring and discreet. Now most of them spoke to her as if she was their mother or sister...

Kira had chosen to organize her kitty party in a Paris cabaret in "Saint Germain des prés". There was a large hall where group activities could be organized and where girls could exchange some small talk between girls. There were also small booths where confidential chats could be organized. At eleven AM, after a fast shopping walk, Kira arrived at the cabinet and prepared herself for the arrival of her friends.

As usual, Bijal was the first one to arrive. They kissed on the cheeks and hugged one another. Bijal was wearing a brown kameez with black baggy salwars and a green dupatta. That girl had never managed to wear sexy clothes. She had a boyish appearance with an impish smile that was her best asset. She was single, working at the Indian consulate.

- Hello, Kira! How are you doing? Great, it seems! Being loved by someone as splendid as Prince Kyrhan must be a fantastic experience for a woman! But,... let me watch you more closely! Tell me, Am I wrong? I would bet you're again pregnant, my dear!

- You are right, Bijal! Too many hugs in our bedroom!

- Oh congratulations, Kira. When are you expecting delivery?

- In May or June!

- That late! From the bulge in your belly, I would have bet you were already in your fifth month. Don't tell me you are expecting twins again!

- I never offered Kyrhan anything but twins! It must be his potent seed!

- Oh sure! I would love to have such a beautiful stud as my husband!

- Sorry, dear! This one is already claimed! Look for another one!

A new girl interrupted their chitchat : it was Smita who was an Indian fashion addict. She was wearing also a kameez with psychedelic pattern in the sixties fashion and bangles that nearly covered her left forearm.

- Morning, Kira! You're superb! Where did you find this magnificent saree?

- It's a gift from Kyrhan, straight from New Delhi! Do you like the embroideries?

- Kira! You are joking! I would kill to have the same!

- No need to go to such extremities. Just visit my husband. He must feel sad alone in India! If you entertain him, he may offer you a similar one!

- Don't tell me Kyrhan is cheating on you while you're in France! I wouldn't believe it!

- I didn't tell you anything of this kind. Just Kyrhan only knows where he had bought that saree and it's the only way I've found to have him reveal his secrets.

- Even state secrets?

- I didn't try to obtain such things with simple pillow talk but I've been told that most men babble too much with their lover!

The other girls arrived in a steady flow. They had split in smaller groups. Kira went from one group to another to salute every one.

- Hello, Kira! When is your baby due?

- Never too soon! they are twins as usual they have started shooting penalties like soccer fans! How do you fare with your husband. You told me last time that he neglects you totally.

- It hasn't changed but now I know I'll repay him! I'll have a total stranger breed me for the next Holi.

- How? Tell me about it!

Sayli explained she had been walking in Mumbai during last Holi and a very handsome guy drenched her with red powder telling "Bura na mano, Holi hai" (don't be angry, it's Holi). The man had added that red is the color of joy and love. Sayli had answered by covering him with blue powder, the color of vitality. He had laughed and taken her into the middle of the crowd. She had lost her friends and her husband. The stranger had led her away in some poorly lit yard. She was very excited and her lehenga (long skirt worn with a choli) was covered with the color of love. He had kissed her and she had responded in total abandon. He had pushed her against a wall and lifted the hem of her skirt to her waist. She was dizzy and she hadn't tried to stop him.

The man had fumbled in his dhoti to extract his cock, pushed aside her knickers and entered her without foreplay. She had been very wet, quite ready for him! He had pushed his cock into her and she hadn't even thought of asking him to wear a rubber ; she didn't know whether that man was clean from HIV. She had been so excited she hadn't cared. In just a few up and down movements, he had filled her cunt with his sticky spunk. She had cummed with him. The blue powder had been magical as he had fucked her two more times in a row!

The stranger had given her afterward a tampon, officially not to soil her clothes. In fact, it was more probably to keep his sperm inside her. They wandered throughout the town for hours until he had left her in front of her hotel in a very chivalrous gesture. Just she didn't know who he was or where he lived. She was so tired she went to sleep without even taking a shower. She had discovered the tampon the next morning. Her husband was just snoring in the bed...

- One sure is certain : during the next Holi feast, I'll try to lose my husband's group again and wander alone. My handsome lover has given me his cell number and we chatted several times since. Next time, I'll meet him totally unprotected and ask him to breed me

- What will you tell to your husband? He may ask to divorce!

- I will make what most women would do in the same circumstances : When I'll be sure I am pregnant, I'll just fuck my husband several times a week. The poor sod will think I'm again in love with him. Then I'll tell him I am pregnant by him and he will gobble the lie. My baby will be just a few weeks early...

- You're a deceiving slut, Sayli, making your husband think he is the father while you know he won't!

- Aren't husbands meant to help their wives bring up their progeny? I mean their wives' progeny, not the husbands' of course!

- You may see it that way!

- How do you proceed with Kyrhan during Holi?

- Oh, we keep together and nobody ever tried to challenge him or smuggle me out of his reach!

- No wonder! With such a man, I would stay at his feet. Any girl would die to be fucked by him! Would you share him with me some day?

- No way! Try to seduce him if you can! But it's him who decides who he will fuck. I'm a very submissive wife!

- With such a stud, I would be, too. You must always have a great time with him, my dear!

- More than you'll ever think!

The other women were discussing about the last film with Aish. Rai, showing off the beautiful saree their husbands had offered them. Others talked about their children, looking for suitable husbands for their daughters or reporting their children's more or less brilliant successes at school. Kira noticed just two or three of her guests remained on their own, not taking part in the general discussion. One of her secondary roles was to act as counselor for the community. She was a princess, married to a wealthy and very influent politician : she had to find a solution for any problem on Earth for these Indian women!

She knew quite well the first one : her name was Chandeep. She was twenty four, quite pretty and buxom with long dark braided hair. She had been happily married for three years now with a man named Abhijeet. Kira thought him boring and obnoxious with his perpetual nasty comments about women but his wife seemed to enjoy tremendously his company. At least, it was what Kira had felt the last time she had met Chandeep at the previous kitty party.

The young woman appeared sad and grim. She really needed assistance.

- You look terribly distraught, my dear! What's the problem? May I help you in some way?

- Oh, Kira, you're always so helpful but this time, I really doubt you'll be able to help!

- Try it? What's the risk?

- You're right, princess, as always! I feel so stupid.

- A woman in need is never stupid! Tell me!

- You remember my husband, Abhijeet. He has been always very busy with his job for a US computer company that operates in Western Europe. Whenever he was sent on a mission out of France, I've accompanied him. We are very in love together!

- Yes I've noticed it!

- He has been sent to an offshore gas extraction in Norway site to completely reorganize their computer system. It will take between one and three months but spouses aren't allowed on board. I miss him terribly. It's the first time we aren't together... He'll come back only when he has finished his job in nine months! These US companies have no regard for family life. They could have allowed him a shore leave every two or four weeks!

- Uhhh! I see your problem and I really can't help you a lot with your husband. Don't you have friends that could help you in these difficult moments?

- No, Kira! As I always accompanied my husband and I speak little French, I never had occasions to meet people and make friends. My own job doesn't help : I make translations for French companies working with India. So I work on computers and Internet. That's how I met my hubbie. I'm desperate! I thought of suicide yesterday!

- Stay calm, Chandeep! Your husband will come back in a few months! Hold onDid you call a doctor?

- I'm not ill!

- No, but you may also call for depression. They can give you some medicine to help you in such circumstances. You could also come and stay with me in the East of France!

- Impossible with my job!

- Then the doctor seems the best solution! Do you want me to call one for you? I know one who is specialized on depression and nervous breakdown. He speaks fluently English and, between you and me, he is very handsome. If I wasn't happily married, I would really consider him!

- Yes, please, Kira, if you think he might be of help!

She dialed the number on her cell phone.

- Patrick! It's Kira... Fine... And you... Yes, it's always a pleasure! Patrick, I've a problem with one of my close Indian friends here in France : her husband has been sent on a mission to Norway for about ayear and she seems very depressed : could you come and examine her? I fear she may make a big mistake soon. Yes! Please... Her address is 82, avenue de la butte-Chaumont, fourth level to the right. She works at home! Chandeep, you don't have any appointments tomorrow afternoon, Do you?

- No, Kira!

- Then he'll come around 3PM. Be ready for him : he is always very punctual. It's OK, Patrick!

- Thank you, Kira! I'll tell you if the treatment has helped me!

Kira kissed Chandeep and went to meet the two other girls.

Note : for clarity reasons, it might be helpful to follow the developments of Chandeep's story before relating the other stories.

On the next afternoon at precisely, five to three, Patrick pushed on the bell button. Chandeep opened the door. The doctor wasn't handsome as Kira had mentioned : he was GORGEOUS! He had wide shoulders, a bright smile, a large forehead, he appeared ostensibly self-confident. Chandeep immediately felt at ease with him. Even her deep sorrow seemed greatly alleviated!

Patrick questioned her on the origin of her depression. He didn't need a long time to understand the situation. Out of habit, he decided to listen to her heart. There was no real reason but this Chandeep girl was really pretty. In his office, he would have made her strip to her undies but here, he just told her :

- I'm going to listen to your chest. Would you be kind enough to take off your sweater and open your blouse.

Chandeep had never been examined by a doctor in France. She blushed terribly as she was taking off her sweater and unbuttoning her blouse. She had never felt that naked with a stranger for years. Only her husband had seen more of her. At least, she had thought to put on European style garments. If she had worn a kameez, she would have been in her bra only, now!

The doctor acted in a very professional way, reducing the contact as much as possible. Chandeep gradually calmed down. As Patrick was continuing his examination, pressing his stethoscope at different places on her breasts, she began to welcome his contact. At one moment, she even parted slightly her blouse tails to offer him a best view of her cleavage, filling her lungs to enhance the size of her breasts. Patrick completed his examination with a palpation of her breasts. It was a classical gesture, with the objective of finding breast tumors at an early stage but none of the doctors she had visited had ever done it.

Chandeep gasped helplessly and in a reflex, she put her hand on Patrick's hand. He thought she didn't want to complete his examination and tried to push him away. He felt really irritated by her behavior.

- I see! I'll give you just a mild anxiolytic. If it's not strong enough and you have still dark ideas, just phone me. Here is my card! I'll come back tomorrow to see if the treatment operates!

Chandeep went to a nearby chemist who delivered the medicine. He detailed her the interest of the medicine and when she was to take it. She felt somewhat angered against him : she wasn't stupid and could read the leaflet accompanying the medicine. That was only when she got back home she discovered the leaflet was written in French and she didn't know half the words in it! The chemist had certainly tried to help her and she had been aggressive with him. She promised to go back and apologize the next day!

That made Chandeep think of her frustrating examination by the French doctor. She had reacted instinctively when he had touched her breasts by putting her hand on his fingers. Was it possible he had misinterpreted her reaction? It had not been rejection, on the contrary! His soft touch had produced sparks in her breasts and she had felt immediately warmth invading her belly, irradiating in her cunt and nipples. As the doctor had left in haste, he couldn't have noticed she had her nipples taut with desire, her clit was sending electric jolts and her cunt was oozing love fluids. There was no secret, there : she had been ready to fuck him, there on her own settee. She would have cheated on her Indian husband for the first time in her life, and with a white stranger!

Suddenly, she missed less her husband! He had left her alone and he would do it again in the future. If she had cuckolded him, it would have been a just punishment. He had just to impose his conditions but his career was of utmost importance to him! The shame would be on him!

The idea she had missed such an opportunity to discover whether a Frenchman was a better lover than her husband made her sick! How could she save the situation?

Meanwhile Patrick was wondering why Chandeep had pushed him away. His gesture had been quite professional. There was no trace of misconduct then! Something puzzled him. He wasn't able to find it. Then he had a flash in his mind : If Chandeep had wanted to push him away, she would have grabbed his wrists. She would never have placed her hand on his fingers, pressing him on her breasts! Did she have simply reacted to his contact, not as a patient with her doctor but as a woman with a man caressing her breast, someone about to become her lover?

Unbeknownst to them, their thoughts had led them to the same conclusion : they had to meet again and become sure of the other one's feelings... Patrick put on his coat and took his car toward Chandeep's apartment. He was climbing the stairs in haste, four at a time when his cell phone rang.

Patrick stopped to answer the call. He had just reached Chandeep"s door. It was her!

- Dr Patrick! I've still these awful ideas. Could you come urgently? I really need you!

- I'll be there in a minute. He hung up and in the same movement, pushed on the bell button. Chandeep opened immediately. She must have been just behind the door! They looked one another and a large smile appeared on their faces. Patrick opened his arms and Chandeep threw herself in the nest he offered her. She lifted her head and her lips found his mouth. They exchanged their first love kiss and it promised plenty of pleasant things to both of them. Chandeep opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue inside her mouth before reciprocating in kind at her turn. Patrick lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the settee. She disengaged her mouth and whispered to him :

- No, Patrick! Carry me upon my bed!

Patrick was just the type of man that evokes trust and simultaneously made the girls hot for them. She knew instinctively that if she changed her mind and told him to stop, he would obey instantly. What was strange was that it made Chandeep to grow bolder, ready to go further.

- I want to open myself completely to you, Patrick!

She already knew she was going to fuck him, whatever arrived to them. She was pressed against him but she managed to reach down for his pants and his belt. She hastily unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly. His pants plummeted down quite obligingly to the floor. She was now in a frenzy as she eased his briefs down to free his cock. She had never felt such an urgent need. She used both her hands to assess the size and the hardness of his cock and balls. She was immediately reassured, he was much better endowed than her husband and his balls seemed filled up with baby cream she couldn't wait to receive in her cunt or in her mouth.