Living for Myself

I felt a million dollars as he took my arm as we walked through the busy restaurant and out onto the wide boulevard. I hoped the ride up in the lift would be as memorable as my trip with Nicole, but an elderly lady scuttled in through the entrance as the doors were closing and Yves was ever the gentleman and held them for her.

I scowled at him playfully as she grunted her thanks and mouthed, "I can wait!"

He put an arm around my shoulders and mouthed back. "I cannot!"

Mercifully, the old crone alighted with more muttering on the floor below Nicole's. When the lift doors opened at her floor, I could already feel Yves' erection pressing against my stomach as we kissed like teenagers on a first date. I was beginning to like that elevator very much indeed. It was old and rickety, but nice things happened to me in it.

Once I had negotiated the three locks on Nicole's front door, it literally was a race to the bedroom. Had it not been so expensive, I would have discarded my dress in the hallway and left a trail of underwear as we went. In the end, I was glad I didn't as it gave me the not inconsiderable pleasure of Yves and I slowly undressing each other as we caressed and rolled on the huge bed. Hands explored, tongues flickered and lips mashed together gently as clothes seemed to melt into thin air. I held my breath as I tugged at his shorts. In my mind's eye, I could see Nicole laughing behind her hand as I revealed a beautiful, but decidedly average-sized erection. I forgave her little joke as I took it in my hand. I was aroused enough with this gorgeous man in my bed and I knew that this time, it was going to be special and she was right -- it would not be a brief slap and tickle.

For the first time in many a year, I closed my mouth over the head of an erect penis and ran my tongue over the silky smooth skin. Long fingers caressed my breasts and I purred in delight as he tweaked my nipples gently and his other hand slid between my parted legs. I desperately tried to fight down thoughts of how long it had been since this sort of thing happened to me and to live in the moment. His hand cupped my pudenda and I took him a little deeper as we both moaned in pleasure.

As I warmed to my task, the past slid away and all that mattered was the here and now. It was amazing to be back in the saddle and to remember what it was like to feel the thrill of the first time with a new lover. Things I thought I had forgotten came back unbidden and the touch of an experienced and almost empathic partner brought little sighs and moans from me as I recalled Nicole's instructions to be more vocal.

By the time I was able to agree with Nicole that Yves' pussy-licking skills were legendary, we had already been going longer than my two cruise-ship liaisons put together. I wished Leigh could see me and sent out a silent thought of thanks to her across the miles.

A few minutes later, when I held myself open and Yves entered me, I fought against every instinct and wrapped my stockinged legs around his buttocks and held him there before he could begin to move inside me. I kissed him. "Just hold a moment, please Yves. There's just one thing I need to do."

His eyes narrowed and he nodded, unable to work out where I was going.

I lay with him deep inside me, my legs wrapped tightly around him and took a deep breath. My words came out in a rushed whisper. "Thank you, Leigh Nicholls, you are the best friend a girl could wish for." I released my grip on him, my legs now sticking up vertically in the air. "Right, that's done. Now fuck me, you lovely minor aristocrat. We can't let Nicole down, so make me fucking scream."

He did just that and didn't need coffee to stay awake all night. We did drink cognac, but it was between the third and fourth times as we leaned on the balcony rail at three in the morning, his arm around my shoulders as we gazed out over moonlit Paris. By the time he came in my mouth as the sun rose, we had gone way past Nicole's 'acceptable level.' I felt like I was twenty again and was so glad Nicole had persuaded me to stay.

My disappointment was palpable when Yves said he had an appointment the next evening. He assured me it was with an elderly relative and not another woman. I didn't mind if it was. I had no hold over him and although disappointed, I'd had one of the best nights I could remember for so many reasons. We exchanged phone numbers and I expected that would be the last I would ever see of him.

Then he phoned me in mid-afternoon to see if I was still available, as he had changed his plans and met his relative for lunch instead of dinner. We ate in a humble bistro that specialised in Basque food. It was earthy, fresh and delicious and I paid the bill.

Then we made sure that when Nicole returned, her bed really was a mess.

Seven

The apartment door crashed open in mid-afternoon, waking me from a well-earned little doze. I had lunched in the café downstairs after Yves made his weary way home and wondered if I had anything left for Nicole's return.

When I saw her slumped against the front door looking slightly dishevelled and very sleepy, I wondered if she had anything left for me.

She gave me a little wave and her goofy grin lit up the hallway as I watched her from the living room doorway. She looked about fifteen years old and I knew that despite the fact I had only known her for a few days, I loved her with all my heart.

She slowly sank to the floor beside her overnight bag and closed her eyes. "Nicole sleepy." She blew me a kiss. "Night night, petit oiseau."

I cleared my throat and knocked on the door frame. "Excuse me, Mamzelle Bouvier -- we have salacious tales to tell of nights of unbridled passion over glasses of wine."

She made a grumbling noise and shivered. "Oh merde, not more sex." Then her eyes opened wide and she sprang to her feet grinning from ear to ear. "Fuck, what a weekend, little bird!"

Like a French Rugby winger, she ran full pelt down the hall and swept me up in her grasp. We tumbled backwards into the room and ended up in an undignified, tangled heap on her sofa, laughing and giggling like her charges from her day job.

Her questions came out in a rush. "How was it? How many times? Did you scream? Isn't his tongue wonderful?"

Once I had answered a few of her questions, we started on coffee to help wake her up, as after her brief burst of activity, the excesses of the weekend once again took their toll. She promised to give me chapter and verse on her misdeeds once I had given her all the naughty details of my nights with Yves. By the time I finished my tale, we were well into a bottle of Chablis and she was curled up at one end of the sofa, me at the other. I had never really talked about sex to anyone other than Leigh and to give this gorgeous, vivacious young thing all the gory details and see her genuinely delighted responses was almost as good as the acts themselves.

Then she told me about her weekend and it suddenly seemed as if I had attended a Women's Institute meeting in my local village and not come incessantly at the hands of one of the best lovers I could ever imagine.

When she described La Maison Des Reves I couldn't believe such places existed. It was a bolt-hole for rich people with sophisticated sexual requirements, where they could indulge every whim and fantasy -- for a cost.

A true House of Dreams.

She had gone at the request of one of her longest-standing clients and it was her third visit. "Oh, Robyn, the things that go on there. The food is every bit as good as the restaurant you and Yves ate at, and afterwards -- ooh la la! There are rooms to cater for every foible, fetish and kink you can think of; some by invite only. There are group sex sessions, pre-arranged gatherings, impromptu couplings at the drop of a chapeau. Nothing is out of bounds and the only limit is your imagination."

When I said it seemed a little out of my league, I found myself on the end of a hard stare. "A week ago, you thought I was out of your league. You didn't think you would fuck a complete stranger over ten times in two nights or sleep with a woman half your age. Don't underestimate yourself, little bird. You have learned to fly at last. Stop looking down. See how high you can go!"

I replenished our glasses. "Even if I were that adventurous, how would I ever get to go somewhere like that?"

"Never say never!"

"Sounds amazing. So come on, what did you get up to?"

"Later, in bed. Right now, my ravaged little puss needs some TLC and your tongue is going to apply it. I forgot to tell you it was another condition of the lease agreement."

"I like your lease conditions, Miss Bouvier. I think they should be enshrined in law."

Eyes wide, a hand flew to her mouth. "Oops, I assumed they were the law. No wonder I get strange looks!"

As I got to work, her long legs draped over my shoulders, I wondered how many people had been in my position in the last forty-eight hours. When I found out later, I was staggered at the number. I hadn't had that many lovers in my life, never mind a weekend.

After all the feverish activity, it was almost a relief to get back to my former domicile on the Monday. The cleaners kindly knocked on Nicole's door to let us know it was ready and I moved back in. Nicole had a busy couple of days ahead of her and our only liaisons would be over afternoon coffees at our usual spot downstairs.

I luxuriated in the bath for a long time and felt so sated and relaxed, I didn't even feel the need to use my vibe or my fingers. I went back to being a tourist and took a day trip out to Versailles and the next day, queued for a long time to get up the Eiffel Tower. Sightseeing over, I sat in my now favourite spot in the café and awaited Nicole's arrival.

Unfortunately, it was a brief encounter as she was, as she delicately put it, 'between jobs' and needed to shower from her exertions before her evening liaison.

As she got up to leave, she stopped as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh, pardon -- I forgot. I am not working tomorrow -- it has been cancelled for some reason." She stood, waving her hands in the air. "I don't suppose?"

I smiled. "Glad you could fit me in. What time?"

"Six, see you then!" This time, when she reached the entrance of the apartment block she didn't look back at me longingly. She poked her tongue out at me and ran in to the building laughing.

I hadn't realised that Albert the waiter was hovering until he spoke. He gazed at the now closed door. "Elle est fou!" He gathered up her empty cup and for the first time spoke to me in English. "Mad but beautiful, non?" He pointed at my almost empty cup. "Une autre madame?"

"Oui, merci Albert. And she is most definitely both of those things."

As I strolled through Montmartre the next day, I could barely keep my mind off what was to come later. I sat sipping wine, watching beautiful young people going about their business and wished I were their age and not trying to live my dream almost thirty years too late. Then I caught myself and realised that not many people get to live their dream at all. I was sitting outside a café in Paris, drinking wine and musing about what my young female lover had planned for me later. I had just enjoyed the steamiest, most adrenaline-fuelled, sexy weekend of my life with a gorgeous man who had liked me enough to come back a second night.

I may be fifty, but I didn't feel it and apparently Yves and Nicole didn't feel it either. There was life in the old girl yet.

Later, when I lay on Nicole's bed and she produced a blindfold, I knew she had something special in mind. If I had known just how special, I wouldn't have moved from my apartment all day and probably camped outside her door to make sure of being on time.

She flexed the stretchy fabric in front of my eyes. "Have you used one before?"

A distant memory flashed into my mind. "Yes, Nicole -- back when things were exciting. But not for a long time."

"But now things are exciting again!" She took hold of my left hand and wrapped something soft around my wrist. With a deft movement, she tied the other end to one of the rails on her headboard. She repeated her actions on my right hand and I lay spreadeagled, unable to move. I trusted her implicitly and waited with bated breath for what was to come.

She fitted the blindfold gently, making sure my hair was not trapped and I recalled the thrill of not knowing where hands, tongues and - back then -- stiff erections were going to go. Then I shuddered as her tongue ran across my lips and began a slow, deliberate journey down my body. It worked in little circles, darting, flickering, teasing and I began to pull at my restraints wishing I could embrace her. The sweet torture went on for long minutes as she nibbled and sucked on my nipples before resuming her downward journey. By the time she got to the promised land, I was whimpering and moaning.

She lapped at me for an age and gentle but insistent fingers probed. I longed to look down and see her sparkling eyes, her wet lips, her now slippery fingers, but somehow not being able to see it was all the more erotic.

Then it all stopped. The beautiful waves of pleasure she created drained away from my shores and I rattled the headboard in my frustration. "Oh, please Nicole -- don't stop. Don't fucking stop!"

Her voice was soft in my ear and her hot breath made me shudder anew. I could smell myself on her lips as she whispered. "I'm not going to stop, little bird. I've barely started."

I moaned again as her tongue began to tease my nipple once more, then cried out in utter shock as a second tongue flickered against my now slick, wet pussy lips. My cry turned to an elongated, racking sob as strong hands gripped my hips and something long, hard and hot slid effortlessly into me. Nicole removed my blindfold, her mouth still clamped to my nipple and I gazed up into Yves soft brown eyes, his handsome face split in a huge grin.

"Bonsoir, petit oiseau. I hope you don't mind the intrusion?"

I could barely catch my breath. "Intrude all you like, you beautiful man. Oh Nicole Bouvier, you are one devious, naughty girl. Now please untie me!"

She bit hard on my nipple, making me squeal. "No, not yet. A bit more teasing first!"

I screamed in frustration as Yves pulled out, then was tortured unmercifully as Nicole took him in her mouth inches from my face. I finally got to see what the girl was capable of and why she had men in the palm of her hand. Despite my predicament, it was utterly breath-taking and I felt a pang of sorrow for her that no-one would ever get to see her do this onscreen. She was an absolute natural and to watch her do it right in front of me almost seemed like a privilege. She worked on him for at least five minutes and it was all I could do not to plead with her as the two of them completely ignored me.

Then she took him from her mouth and stared down at me. "Oh, sorry -- forgot you were there, little bird. Like to share?"

I was too aroused to even scold her and took him eagerly as she at last untied me. I then had the unbridled pleasure of sharing him with this beautiful girl and Yves was in raptures as we ran our tongues down his shaft before returning to the top and kissing each other with the head of his cock between our lips.

I started to come as Yves took me from behind and I sucked and licked at Nicole's slippery crack, her pungent aroma filling my nostrils, her hands in my hair, urging myself and Yves on. As my orgasm went on and on, she wriggled from my grasp and kissed my sticky, wet mouth as I screamed down her throat. As I subsided and lay panting alongside her, she rolled Yves onto his back and impaled herself on him.

Her long hair flew as she rode him furiously and I recalled hearing her through the wall on that first fateful evening as her urgent cries and moans filled the room. She fixed me with an almost desperate look as she slammed down on him. "Please, Robyn -- hold me!"

The words sounded like they were being ripped from her throat and I knelt up and took her in my arms as she now screamed into my open mouth and her slim body shook and trembled in my embrace. As she came, I thought I may know why men were prepared to pay her a fortune to spend even a short while with her.

Then she took Yves back in her mouth and as he ejaculated over her smiling face and breasts, I fully understood why they paid her a fortune. She turned to me, her face aglow, rivulets of sticky jizz running down her left cheek, coating her soft pink lips and dripping down from her chin onto her breasts. She repeated her words from a few moments before.

"Like to share?"

I had seen it on the internet and wasn't sure if it was my thing or not. My husband and one or two earlier boyfriends had come in my mouth a few times over the years, but I had never had it on my face.

Was it my thing? There was only one way to find out. The fact that it took us fifteen minutes to stop playing with the stuff led me to believe it probablywas my thing and by the time we had licked, sucked, spat, dribbled, kissed and swallowed it into oblivion, Yves was ready for round two and I sat astride him as Nicole straddled his face.

Thereafter, it was a long, languid night and as I had been at the weekend, I was sad to see Yves go when he left in the early hours. I lay in Nicole's embrace and began to cry.

Her voice sounded sleepy as she stroked my hair. "Hey, little bird, whassup?"

I sniffed back a tear. "Oh, nothing Nicole. Nothing other than I've just fucked the two most beautiful people in all of France and I am the happiest woman in the world. That was utterly magical. I can't believe you arranged that, you sneaky thing. Did I ever tell you that you are a very naughty girl?"

"Only a few times. It's nice being naughty, no? Anyway, you told me that it was your fantasy to be spit-roasted in a threesome, so I thought I'd go one better and substitute guy number two with the most gorgeous, sexy call-girl in all of gay Paree!"

I purred. "Oh, it was wonderful Nicole, but I still have a yearning to do it with two guys."

She put her nose next to mine. "Then you are in luck. On Saturday I am seeing two regular clients -- businessmen from Marseilles who are in town every month or so. I will bump my usual partner Naomi and you can join me!"

I opened my mouth to speak but she put her finger to my lips. "Only joking. I am not about to make a whore of you, little bird. I'm sure your little fantasy will come true one day!"

I hoped so myself, but the thought of becoming a Parisian hooker for the night did have a certain appeal to it.

Eight

Oh to be in England, William Wordsworth once said. He desired to be in England in April. Fuck that malarkey. This was November in the Cotswolds and I wanted to be in France. I thought it would be difficult to return home after my strange few weeks with Nicole and Yves, but it wasn't difficult at all.

No, it wasn't difficult - it was fucking impossible and it was killing me.

How many nights did I lie there, wishing that it had never happened? How many mornings did I wake, aching for the feel of Nicole's svelte body by my side or Yves' rugged smile asking if I wanted coffee before or after our first workout of the day.

Maybe it would have been better to come home more or less celibate than to have experienced the things I did. On one of her rare visits to Casa Christie, Leigh was sympathetic to my cause.

"Oh, bloody hell Robyn - I have created a monster, have I not? I sent you on this incredible journey and I'm glad I did, but I'm so sorry it has come to an end. Is there really no-one in the village?" My unspoken reaction said it all. "Sorry Babe, thinking out loud again. So, how do we unlock these doors that were briefly opened to you but now seem so impenetrable?"