Living for Myself

A wicked grin crossed her face and a tug on my hairy muff made me squeal again. "Don't worry, it won't be there much longer." She wriggled around and took my hand. "Soon it will be like this..."

I gasped as I felt between those long legs for the first time. Of the three options I had envisaged, it was the first -- smooth and clean and very warm and wet. I slipped a forefinger inside and she moved back up so we could kiss as we worked on each other. Her conical breasts were mesmerising and I took her puffy little nipples in my mouth and tried to be as gentle as she had been.

A tap on my shoulder was followed by a wagging finger. "Non, non! Bite, Robyn. Nibble. Suck hard. Pull them, make me squeal."

I did and she did and our fingers became more urgent for a few minutes before she took my head in her hands. "Down you go -- your turn now. Taste me properly."

It had been years since I did the old 'soixante-neuf,' and had never been a huge fan of mutual oral sex. I had always preferred them separately to fully enjoy each sensation. But now, I became an instant convert and wriggled in delight as Nicole's tongue went deep and I tried to emulate each move she made.

We went on for a long time and it was fabulous, but I felt the inevitable tide coming in fast. Her insistent probing and roaming hands became too much for me and I knew I couldn't hold back any longer. We knelt up on the bed, facing each other, fingers darting in and out as our lips mashed together. I could barely breathe as I shuddered to a shattering climax that had been building under her expertise for almost an hour. I fell backwards as she went ever harder, her mouth back on my clit, her fingers a blur.

I let out a piercing scream that rent the night air and shocked me to the core. I was so used to being quiet during sex, I had barely made a sound until that point.

It had been amazing and I wanted it to be amazing for her too. I put a finger back inside, but she gripped my wrist. "Quatre, little bird. Four fingers. Hard, fast. Kiss me and make me fucking come."

For a moment, I thought that maybe I wasn't going to be able to fulfil hers wishes. Being unused to this sort of activity, my arm ached and I didn't think I could go hard enough. Then her body went rigid in my grasp and her keening moan spurred me on. She shook violently three, four times, her eyes rolled back in her head, then slumped back down, almost my whole hand still inside her.

My fingers slipped out with a sticky plop and we lay in a panting heap licking them clean.

Finally, she looked at me with a lop-sided, very satisfied smile. "Goodness me, a fifty-year old virgin just made me come so fucking hard! How was it for you, little bird?"

I could still barely catch my breath. "Nicole, I finally flew. I finally fucking flew, and I went so high, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get back down again."

She snuggled into me. "You've barely reached the clouds yet, little bird. Once we've had a glass of wine, I am going to shave you and get a proper look at that lovely pussy of yours. I don't want to trap any hairs when I use my favourite toys on you."

I shivered. "Ooh, what sort of toys?"

"Strap-ons, vibes, dildoes. Things that buzz and vibrate. Things that throb and tickle. Things that are going to help me take you way past the clouds and into the stratosphere. What do you say?"

It sounded a little frightening, but I was prepared to go with it. "Only on one condition."

"Oui?"

"Your balcony is not overlooked by anyone, is it?"

"Non."

"Then do all you need to get me into orbit. Hard, fast, slow, gentle -- as long as we are lying on a blanket on the balcony as the sun comes up, making gentle love to each other."

She shivered in my embrace. "Then it is a deal! Oh, je t'aime, petit oiseau -- je t'aime!"

Six

The two nights I spent with Nicole were utterly magical, but 'all good things', as they say. My short time in Paradise was about to end almost as soon as it began. I lay in her arms knowing my time was up -- she had an assignment that evening and I was leaving for home the next morning -- back to my mundane existence in my lonely cottage.

I sounded like a sulky teenager as I articulated my frustrations. "I don't want to go home, Nicole!"

She kissed me on the top of the head. "Then don't!"

I had already checked the website for the property I was staying in. "The apartment is booked for the weekend. I need to be out by ten tomorrow."

"Fine, that gives you plenty of time to move your gear into my spare room right now. It is perfect as I am out of town for two nights of sheer debauchery, so we can resume this position on Sunday."

I tried to argue, but it was futile and my heart was not in it. I desperately wanted to stay and when offered such a lifeline, I was not going to turn it down. It took me a long while to thank her and once we were up and dressed, I went back onto the website and re-booked my apartment from the Monday morning. As the main holiday season was coming to an end, it was available for a few weeks. I chose an end date two weeks from now but Nicole brushed my hand away, smiling.

"Mais non, little bird. Trois semaines or the deal is off."

I kissed her fingers and re-entered the date, my heart singing as I did so. "Three weeks it is, Nicole. You're the boss!"

"I am indeed. Now, go and get your belongings -- I have one more thing to arrange." As I left, she was by the open balcony door, tapping at her phone. "Ah, bonjour Yves, ca va?" Thereafter, any nuances were lost as her quick-fire chatter was drowned out by traffic; not that I would have understood much anyway.

Feeling better than I had done in years, I walked next door and quickly packed my case. Ten minutes later I wheeled it back along the corridor to find Nicole at the breakfast bar, a coffee cup in her hand and a huge grin on her face. "All arranged!"

I sipped the fresh coffee she poured for me. "What is?"

"Your dinner date tonight. Rest assured, Yves will not treat you as a speed-bump in the road. He is a very handsome man and a very accomplished lover." She winked and held her hands apart about a foot. "C'est magnifique!"

I looked at her in horror. "Nicole, surely not!"

Her hands moved closer together. "Ok, maybe this big then?"

I was in an utter daze. "Nicole, that's not what I meant and you know it. Have you really just set me up with a blind date?"

She stroked her chin. "Oui, I suppose I have. Don't worry, you can mess up my bed as much as you like and I give you a personal guarantee that you will come just as hard as you did with the delightful owner of said bed!"

I was barely able to construct a simple sentence. "Nicole, I can't. It's... oh, girl what have you done? No, I can't-"

"Why can't you? Your best friend bought you a holiday so you could get laid by a nice hunky guy. So far, you've managed two piss-weak fumbles in the dark and a stellar liaison with a beautiful girl." Long fingers tapped on my hand. "But no hunky guys. You have not yet repaid your friend's kindness and it is a condition of our three-day lease agreement that you fuck Yves Marchand in my bed tonight. It is a sub-condition that you fuck him until you scream the house down and your eyes pop out. Blowing him is optional but recommended and his pussy-licking skills are legendary. I will consider three times or less an insult to my hospitality, four barely tolerable and five merely approaching an acceptable level."

If it was futile to argue about staying at her place, there was no way I was going to win this one. In truth, once the initial shock died down, the prospect of dinner and a night of passion with a handsome Frenchman did have a certain appeal. I held out my hand. "Fucking hell, you are a naughty girl, Nicole Bouvier. Ok, I agree but only if you come out with me this morning and help me choose a new dress. Then I treat you to lunch before you are spirited away for your dirty weekend. Over said lunch, you can tell me all about the man that is apparently going to fuck me more times in one night than I've been fucked in the last six years."

We shook on the deal. "Go for two nights. He has amazing staying power!"

I raised an eyebrow. "He may, but I'm not sure I have!"

"I'm sure you'll manage once you see him." She drained her coffee cup and tilted her head towards the door with a smile. "Come on, petit oiseau -- let's go get you a guaranteed fuck-me dress!"

When I saw the shop she chose, I thought it was out of my league. The merchandise was extraordinary, but so were the prices. Then my eyes lighted on a Chinese-style silk dress in deep blue with a high collar and beautiful floral patterns on the front. I didn't dare look at the price tag, but as I walked towards it, Nicole merely nodded. There were a few words with the assistant and I found myself in a changing room almost frightened to touch the exquisite material.

When I emerged a few minutes later, Nicole stood impassively, her face giving nothing away. I ran my hands over the exotic fabric and looked at her, hoping for her approval. "Well?"

In answer, she called out through the curtain between the changing area and the main shop. "Ariane, s'il vous plait?"

The curtain parted and the assistant joined her. Nicole and the woman entered into a quickfire discussion and my new friend turned to me with a shake of her head and a steely glint in her eye. "Robyn, please go back into the change room and take off that dress."

I loved the feel of it and I loved the look. I was utterly crestfallen. "Oh, does it not suit me?"

There was another brief exchange between the two women and this time it was Ariane who spoke. As with Nicole, her English was perfect and her lilting accent sent shivers through me.

"Madame, if you do not do as my friend Nicole says, neither of us will be responsible for our actions. Whoever the gentleman is, he is one lucky S.O.B. As a friend of Nikki's, I would be delighted to offer you a small discount."

As she spoke, another customer of around my own age came through the curtain and nodded at me. "Oui, c'est parfait." She put a hand on my bare shoulder and leaned towards me. "As you Brits say, 'you will knock his socks off.' He is indeed a lucky man."

I was hardly able to process the reaction of these three ladies, one of which I barely knew and the other two I had never seen until moments before. I gave a little bow and hoped my now slightly improved French would pass muster. "Merci, mesdames. Vous etes tres gentilles. I only hope the gentleman thinks he is lucky too."

The woman squeezed my shoulder, her voice a husky rasp. "Oh, he will, trust me!"

Afterwards, as I sat in a rustic little bistro with Nicole, I still couldn't take in what was happening to me. She visibly brightened as I asked her what my dinner companion was like. "So you want to know... all about Yves?"

It took a moment to register her joke and I gripped her hand as I laughed. "Yes, I do Nicole. So spill the beans, or..." I tapped at my phone for a moment beneath the table, calling up Google Translate. "Renverser les haricots, s'il tu plais."

Her laugh filled my soul with joy. " Mon Dieu, I love you Brits. You play strange games like cricket and you are shit at rugby and speak French like Martians, but you are so loveable. OK, here is a quick pen portrait of Yves Marchand."

Five hours later, as I walked the few hundred yards to the restaurant just north of Nicole's apartment, I hoped she would be accurate in her glowing assessment of my dining companion. Despite the awards that adorned the walls of the foyer, including two Michelin stars, I felt eerily calm as I checked in with Charles, the Maitre'd. I confidently told him in his native language that I was dining with Monsieur Marchand. If I made any mistakes, he was too polite to point them out.

He ushered me into a sumptuous room full of beautiful people dining on amazing food at no-doubt ridiculous prices. The quiet, restrained buzz of the diners seemed strange to me and I recalled my raucous, fun evening with Leigh in her local hotel restaurant and the rustic charms of the lovely Lorraine. That seemed to have happened in another world as a Frenchman in a tailcoat and white bow tie led me through the throng.

"Madame!" He held his arm out, indicating Yves Marchand's table. It was a mere five metres away, but I knew before the man rose from his chair and extended his hand towards me that Nicole was indeed correct. He took my outstretched hand and brushed his lips across my fingers.

"Enchanté, Robyn. Je m'appelle Yves. It is a pleasure to meet you and please allow me to say that you look simply stunning."

I took his hand and thanked him. "Enchanté aussi, Yves. Very kind of you to say so. I have Nicole to thank for my attire. She has exquisite taste."

A smile lit up his handsome, slightly rugged face. "She does indeed -- both in her dress sense and her friends."

Yes, I was in no doubt whatsoever that I was going to sleep with him - assuming he wanted to sleep with me, of course.

If he did, I just hoped I could live up to Nicole's expectations.

He was charm personified and I immediately felt comfortable in his company. An impressive mane of silvery-grey hair fell almost to his shoulders, accompanied by a wide smile and soft brown eyes. As we talked, my initial reaction was reinforced and I only hoped that Yves felt the same way towards me. It was fine for Nicole to assume we were a nailed-on certainty, but I was still a mere novice in my second life and while I was sure, there was no guarantee he would be.

He guided me through the potential minefield of a ten-course tasting menu with practised ease and when I expressed a moral and physical dislike of foie gras, he gallantly forwent it himself and requested a substitute dish from the waiter. The food and accompanying wine flight were sensational and the company even better.

Between courses, we discussed how we had come to know Nicole. He was most amused by my story of her seduction. We were both grown-ups, so I left nothing out. When I concluded my tale, he gave a little chuckle.

"She is a formidable lady -- very persuasive as you have found out. Add in her other, more obvious charms and we have, in my opinion, someone utterly irresistible."

I had to agree. "And in mine."

He sipped his wine. "So, if I may ask -- was your first time with another lady special? If I am being rude, please forgive me and we will change the subject."

I took his fingers in mine, the first time we had touched since his lips brushed my fingers, despite raising our glasses to toast each course. "I am extremely happy to discuss it, Yves. So far, I have only spoken to my best friend in England about it. It was so good I want to stand on a chair on Nicole's balcony and proclaim my happiness to all of Paris through a megaphone."

He squeezed my fingers gently and I felt a little frisson run through me. "She should have pursued her first choice of career. She is wasted in teaching. Anyone can teach; very few possess her other talents." Looking perplexed, he quickly checked himself. "She has told you of her dilemma, oui?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yes, Yves she told me. I am by no means an expert in the world of adult entertainment. However, from the little I have watched, she would enhance any production and would stand shoulder to shoulder with any leading lady I have seen. May I enquire as to how you met her?"

For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse to answer. He took a deep breath and gazed off over my shoulder for a moment. His voice was pensive when he spoke. "I met her when she was just embarking on her journey. A few months before she began what she calls her 'evening job.'"

I laughed to break the sudden tension. "It seems more an afternoon job at the moment. And weekends!"

"The school holidays allow her a little more freedom and no doubt you will soon hear of her exploits this weekend." He glanced at his watch. "I can only guess at what she will be doing as we speak. Anyway, Nicole was, even six years ago, a remarkable talent. She got me through a very dark period in my life. I take it she told you I am what I suppose you would call 'minor nobility?'"

"Yes, she did."

"But maybe not that I lost my wife seven years ago?"

I went cold. "No, she didn't mention anything. I am so sorry to hear that, Yves. It can't have been an easy time for you."

"No, it was terrible. Although it did not seem it at the time, it was a mercy. All I will say is that life was not kind to Natasha, so in the end, it came as a relief. Our home -- I should say my home, is a small chateau in the Champagne-Ardennes region; its size befitting my lowly rung on the ladder of aristocracy. I rattled around in it for months, wallowing in my grief and attempting to drink the wineries of the region dry single-handedly. I needed a change, so I came to Paris. At first there were a few girls to help me forget. Then there was Nicole Bouvier."

There was a pause in our conversation as another course arrived, along with the carefully chosen wine to accompany it. For a few minutes, the talk was a little less serious as we enthused over the food and only resumed when the plates had been cleared.

"So, Nicole and I." Yves steepled his fingers together as he resumed his story. "We soon became very close despite the age difference -- forty-two and nineteen is quite a gap -- and she made me realise that life is in fact worth living. It was not just thanks to her skills in the bedroom either. She was a true friend, a confidante and a pillar of strength for me." He looked a little rueful for a moment. "As a gesture of thanks, I paid the deposit on her apartment when she started her 'other' job. It seemed the least I could do. We have remained good friends ever since."

I thanked him for his honesty. "And lovers?"

He swept a lock of hair from his eyes, a shy smile on his face. "D'acors! Are you shocked?"

I shook my head. "Nothing shocks me anymore, Yves. She was there for you and saw you through -- you showed your appreciation of her kindness. You are still friends after all these years. It shows you are both genuine people who care for each other. I like that."

He raised his glass to me once more. "Merci, Robyn. To Nicole Bouvier, femme extraordinaire."

Thereafter, the conversation drifted back to more genteel topics, and as the meal drew to a close, I decided it was time for me to take charge for once. "Yves, this has been a delightful evening, but I insist that we split the cost."

He held his hands up in apology. "I am not such a chauvinist that I would refuse a lovely lady's request, but I have an account here and Charles will have already done the necessary."

At least I was a 'lovely lady.' "Very well then, may I thank you for your hospitality by offering you a coffee at Nicole's? I am not sure if I can work her machine, but I will try."

He glanced at the espresso cup on the table. We had already demolished the petits fours. "I think I have enough coffee here, Robyn. If I drink any more, I will be awake all night."

I took a sip from my tiny cup and held his gaze. "That was the idea, Yves."

He tapped a finger on his cheek. "Then let me put it another way. My heart is already racing at the company in which I am lucky enough to find myself. Any further artificial stimulation would not be good for me." He thought for a moment. "Well, maybe a small cognac on the balcony to get us in the mood?"

I suddenly felt empowered. "I'm already in the mood, Yves. I have strict instructions from Nicole. You know how persuasive she can be. You wouldn't want to disappoint two lovely ladies in the same evening, would you?"

"Jamais -- I would not be able to live with myself." He rose and took my hand with a radiant smile. "So, the bill is paid -- shall we?"