My French Holiday

What bewildered me most of all was the way that they seemed to raise the intimacy and closeness of our relationship to the point where they had excited and intrigued me. To the point probably, I had to admit, where I would have been awfully tempted to cast fate to the winds and say yes. Once they’d done that, though, they then seemed to cool on what they were doing and change the mood completely. I had no idea and could think of no reason why other than perhaps I was overestimating my appeal to young men!

But it all changed.

The restaurant was empty the next night. I was the only diner and they ate with me as opposed to eating after everyone had gone as was the norm. Henri left. The three of us were alone. We ate and drank together and, as usual, they started to raise the temperature.

“That’s a lovely ring,” Richard said holding my finger and looking at the cluster of diamonds I’d had made from the engagement and eternity rings Kevin had bought me. Touching a person’s fingertips is, I’ve always thought, very erotic. They are extremely sensitive and I felt a little rush of feeling as his and my fingertips touched. I told them the story abou the ring.

“And this one Mandy?” Luc asked taking my other hand and looking at the sapphire ring my grandmother had left me in her will. I told them about that as well feeling quite strange sitting there the two of them holding and, I noticed, softly stroking my fingertips.

For some reason they’d put some music on and I heard that Piaf song again. The one playing when I’d danced with them, Je ne Rien Regret..

“It’s our song” one of them said.

“We must dance to it,” the other added as they pulled me to my feet.

Their arms around me we danced slowly in the centre of the room. At first in a line but then they put their arms round each other and we made a circle. I was between them. Both had their arms round me between my shoulders and waist, mine were around their shoulders. It wasn’t dancing really, more just swaying on the spot. We were very close. Our bodies were touching and their hands that were draped round me were perilously close to the sides of my breasts. I was feeling mellow and very close to them as Luc pulled me into his arms so that I was facing him and Richard was holding me from behind. We danced like that for a while then I was spun round and I was in Richard’s arms with Luc behind me. Their bodies were touching me everywhere. I was feeling them from my head to my toes. Up and down my front and my back. My breasts were squashed against one my bottom against the other. It was heady stuff indeed.

They had turned the temperature up several degrees. They’d gone further than they had before. They were more adventurous and ambitious and far more more enticing than at any time since we’d met. Or were they? Was this just my imagination going on yet another flight of fancy about them? Maybe it was them just having fun. For God’s sake we were only dancing. Perhaps that’s all it was? A dance and a bit of fun after work? My mind kept telling me that. But now all my womanly instincts and my body were telling me otherwise. It was if they were priming me, getting me ready, testing the water. And it was as if I was readying myself, making preparations, getting ready to decide, almost making my mind up to respond in whatever way seemed the most appropriate. I didn’t know what I wanted. I had no idea how I’d react, whether I had the nerve to take on two young men or, indeed, if my sense of sexual morality would permitme to.

Then the record ended. Edith’s sensitively, croaky voice faded away. And with that I felt relief. II also felt disappointed that this magical moment would end. But we stayed like that, in that close and so tender mutual embrace. The record started again, they must have the CD on repeat I realised.

“No, no regret,” I heard.

We swayed more slowly.

“No I have no regrets.”

The sensuous sound of the ex Gypsy woman’s voice oozed over me permeating every pore in my body.

“Mandy, you know we think so much of you, don’t you?” one was whispering as, with my eyes, closed I moved my body against both of theirs, while the other sang the words to the song into my ear. Their accents seemed to become even more sexy, their bodies more comforting, their words had deeper meaning as I whispered.

Yes, yes I do as you do me.”

“Do we really Amanda, do we?”

“Yes of course,” I sighed, “of course you both do.”

“Oh Amanda,” Luc whispered his face now touching mine, our cheeks pressed together, “that makes us feel so happy.”

I felt his lips touch my cheek. I felt their softness as he kissed me. I felt Richard running his fingers through my hair lifting the long, chestnut coloured locks up from my shoulders baring my neck. I felt his lips on my neck, running up from the collar of my pale yellow, thin cheesecloth blouse to the hairs on my neck. I felt their hands more tightly on my waist, the sides of my chest and my back. I felt their bodies against mine. I felt their chests, their stomachs, the front of their thighs and their bulges. One bulge against my tummy, the other against my bottom. Against my tummy and bottom inside the white voile, almost see-through skirt. That was also thin and it felt as though it wasn’t there and that those bulges were against my bare skin.

I was in a daze. It was though I was being hypnotised. Everything in the world lost meaning. All “normal” thoughts and considerations vanished. There was nothing other than us and Edith Piaf.

“Je ne rien de regrets,” filled my mind as Luc and Richard seemed to be consuming my body, their words, embraces and bodies consuming my mind. The song and our three beings became my entire focus. I was losing any resistance as they breathed such stirring phrases.

“You are so beautiful Mandy.”

“The body of an angel the face of a girl.”

“We’re as one, the three of us are one person Amanda.”

“Us against the world, we make the rules, we can do anything can’t we?”

“Anything we want can’t we?” I heard Luc whisper as his hand touched the side of my breasts more overtly than either had before.

As their bodies seemed to press more urgently against mine they were both whispering.

“Can’t we Amanda, anything?”

“Yes “ I heard myself say in almost a whimper, “yes. Yes we can.”

“Oh Amanda, Amanda,” Luc said as his face came right in front of mine and he looked deeply into my eyes.

“Can we really, can we?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to respond. All I did know was that he was going to kiss me. His eyes were boring into mine, his lips were slightly parted and his position was the one seen in so many films as the hero is about to kiss the heroine. I could turn my head. I could move away. I could make light of it and say something trivial or I could simply say, “no.”

I didn’t though. I did none of those things. I merely stayed exactly as I was. Richard’s arms holding my hips his bulge pressed against my bottom. Luc’s arms around me, my breasts squashed against his, our gazes locked his mouth slightly open moving slowly towards mine. They were just centimetres apart, he’d tilted his head to one side, he held my gaze as his lips brushed mine. I closed my eyes and I parted my lips slightly. And then he kissed me. Softly, gently and tenderly. His lips brushed mine, they didn’t squirm against them. His tongue just touched my mouth it didn’t probe inside it. The whole kiss was enquiring and hesitant not demanding and assumptive. As he kissed my mouth so I felt Richard’s lips or maybe tongue on my neck. I responded to both. My mouth, as equally gently as Luc’s, caressed his lips and I presed my neck gently backwards against Richard’s.

But almost as quickly as the kiss had started it ended. It ended almost in time with Piaf’s high notes at the end of the haunting song. It didn’t start again and I guessed there was a three time play on the CD. The sudden silence broke the mood and they both let me go.

Richard moved away and poured us all another Calvados. I rested myself on one of the tables the edge of it pressing into my bottom. He stood beside me, closely his arm one t he table supporting him. Luc sat right beside me our outer thighs pressed together.

“Mandy I’m sorry,” he said not looking at me.

“There’s no need,” I replied honestly, wondering at the sudden change, yet again in them and curious as to why he’d apologised.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Richard added.

“It’s just that you have done such things to us Amanda,” Luc muttered staring into his glass, “such powerful things, such strong feelings. Feelings we shouldn’t have. Feelings that are wrong.”

I remained silent on tenterhooks. I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or disappointed that they’d stopped kissing me and I wondered what was coming next.

Richard chimed in, “to both of us Mandy. You have made us have such erotic thoughts, such intense desires.”

“Such amazing fantasies Amanda, of us and you,” Luc went on.

“It was coming,” I thought, “they’re going to open up, tell me, tell me what I don’t want to here, tell me that they wanted to make love to me.” I steeled myself to hear it and gulped at the prospect of how I would respond. How I, a thirty eight year old mother and divorcee, would respond to two twenty one or two year old boys telling me that they wanted to fuck me at the same time. But they didn’t say that. No what they said was nothing like I’d expected. They answered so many questions, they put a completely different perspective on all that had happened between us and they gave me such a unique set of feelings and emotions.

“And for us that’s wrong,” one of them muttered, “what you have made us feel Mandy is foreign to us, against all we believe and think and feel.”

“We’ve never felt anything like it,” Richard said very quietly.

“Never Amanda,” Luc said very hesitantly as if choosing his words carefully before adding, “you see Mandy, we’re gay.”

His words crashed into my mind. The sheer amazing irony of the situation confusing me. I couldn’t work out the various ramifications of being with two young men that had lavished such overtly erotic praise on me and of them being gay. Of them being gay yet having fuelled such raging fires in me, had made me wantto think of being naked with them. Of them preferring men yet having been so sexually forward with me when they kissed me. I just couldn’t work out what it all meant.

Luc added, “Richard has never been with a woman yet he feels sexually attracted to you.”

“Oh God,” was all I could say as we all looked at each other withintense expressions on our faces.

Luc went on looking straight at me. “It gets worse Amanda, much worse.”

“Fuck what’s coming now?” I said to myself.

Luc moved closer still as he said very huskily, “we want to make love to you, we want to be with you andt ouch you and caress you Amanda. We want to take you to bed with us both.”

“Yes,” Richard said, “ we want you in our bed naked Mandy so we can adore you, worship you and love you.”

“Love you so totally Amanda, love you all of you and love you everywhere as you’ve never been made love to before.

This was getting too much for me. One moment I’d been in their arms kissing them, the next they were telling me they were gay and now they were describing what they wanted to do to me. The lyrically erotic phrases washed over me the implications causing such an affect on me. But then what woman I wondered could resist a French accent telling her such things? Such things as,

“We want to see your magnificent nakedness, we want to see all of you Mandy, adore you and worship you,” Luc said

“We want to feel your body on ours and make you so aroused and so excited Mandy,” Richard added.

“Can we Mandy, can we make love together? Can the three of us make wonderful, beautiful love? Can we our darling?”

I couldn’t speak and watched in incredulity as Luc moved his hand so it hovered by the button of my blouse. Turning he pressed himself against the side of my leg near to my groin. He was hard. His erection pressed against me as his fingers rested on that button that was half way up my cleavage, on my breasts. I looked from his eyes to his hand. I looked at Richard whose arm had gone round me and was squeezing my waist and I heard myself saying the daftest thing possible.

“We can’t here can we?”

Luc smiled, “no of course not but we have a bed upstairs that we use when we stay late, we could there, couldn’t we”

This was it I recognised. It really was make my mind up time. It was down to me. My heart had gone out to them as they’d told me about being gay. I could, just about, imagine the conflicts that must have been raging in them and I sympathised with them tremendously. Sexuality conflicts were no stranger to me for I’d had them most of my adult life as I’d “experimented” with same gender sex on several occasions. But I also felt something else. Something I wasn’t proud of, something I suppose I shouldn’t. And that was a sort of pride in myself, if that doesn’t sound too arrogant and silly. Proud that I could, as a woman, stir such feelings in two beautiful gay men. I also felt power, strange thing I know but I did. I looked at both of them as I said softly,

“Yes we could.”

Luc smiled for he realised that wasn’t a real answer so he said, his voice very heavy with emotion, “and can we then Mandy, can we all make love together?”

It was almost as if it was someone else’s voice for I seemed to hear from afar just three short words. A small phrase said so huskily. A sentence that contained little content but meant and said so much about them and about me.

“Yes we can.”

“Oh Mandy,” Luc breathed kissing me eagerly.

“Yes Amanda, yes,” Richard said also kissing me, “thank you, thank so much.”

The decision made things moved fast. The shut everything off in the restaurant and led me up the narrow staircase, Luc carrying the Calvados Richard the glasses. There were two flights and I was a little breathless when they showed me into the fairly small room with just a bed, a small wardrobe and a tiny dressing table.

“You are sure about this aren’t you Mandy?” Luc asked as we stood by the foot of the bed in a circle.

I smiled, “no Luc not sure, how could I be? I’ve never done anything like it before? But I would like to try.” I took his face in my hands and firstly kissed him fully on the lips and then did the same to Richard who seemed to be trembling as my mouth closed on his. We alternated the kissing with one moment my lips on Luc’s and the next Richard’s. As we did so I felt my blouse being undone.

We hadn’t put the lights on in the bedroom so it was only lit from the glow of the streetlamps outside. Luc, or maybe Richard, had put a CD on and the sensual tones of Edith Piaf were wafting over us as I felt Richard fumbling with my bra. Luc stood before me and I watched him as he removed his shirt, undid his belt and slowly slid his zip down. At the same time as which Richard overcame the difficulties of undoing a bra clip, something women do by instinct with their hands behind their back but which men seem to find an almost impenetrable riddle! As my blouse and bra slid off me I have to say I felt wonderful, so wanted and desired and very, very womanly. I am quite confident of my breasts and I’m fairly comfortable with men looking at them so as they were bared for the first time to two pairs of male eyes simultaneously I was not worried but instead I was aroused by them looking at me. I wanted them to love my breasts.

I looked fascinated as Luc so very unselfconsciously slid his boxers down flaunting the semi-erection of his really rather delicious looking cock at me. At the same time Richard was kissing my back and running his fingers up and down my spine pushing them just slightly inside the waist band of my skirt so that they almost, but not quite, touched the start of the crease between the cheeks of my bottom. The mood and atmosphere that we had all so enjoyed earlier was returning, and rapidly. I felt that sensation of floating around. Wallowing in the sheer pleasure of my body being aroused. Drifting off into a karma of sexual arousal and expectant sensations. I didn’t have to wait long for those expectations to be fulfilled.

Luc’s hands came round me and grasped my breasts lifting them, cupping them, pushing them together and pinching my nipples as he pulled me backwards so that I laid on the bed my legs hanging over the side of it. I felt, rather than saw, Richard, who was still in his jeans and shirt, kneel down between my opened legs with the thin skirt pushed mid way up my thighs. Again, totally by feel, his fingers were on the waist-band undoing it, pulling at it, sliding it off me. I raised my bottom to let the light material slither down my legs so that I lay there in just the brief, lacy, white, silk thong. As the two men gazed at me muttering how marvellous and how sexy I looked I felt so wanted and desired, so aroused and so excited and so womanly and feminine. I also felt so close to them both.

They manipulated me up the bed and into the middle of it between them. It was now Richard’s turn to perform his ritual strip and he duly obliged by sliding his shirt, jeans and boxers off almost in one movement so that all three of us were now as good as naked on the bed pressed together our bodies touching and squirming against each other. It really was an incredible feeling to be in the arms of two men with their bodies pressing into my hips, and thighs, and buttocks, and hips and bottom. I revelled in it and ground myself back against them.

All the arousal and excitement they’d given me in the past few days combined with what they’d done to me tonight and with the enormous frustration that six months without sex causes. I now wanted to be fucked, no I needed to be fucked. More than anything in this world I needed a cock in me. It was my just reward, my fair bonus, my return from what I’d given of myself so far. All thoughts of morality, of their youth and their sexuality simply disappeared in my mind. That was now totally scrambled. So many confusing and conflicting emotions had rushed through it in the past hour that it was now incapable of rational thought More than anything at all I wanted one, or both, of these two men to fuck me. Hard, quick, raw and vigorous. I needed sex soon and firmly and I didn’t care by whom. I had gone beyond being discrete or diplomatic and all that I really wanted was relief from the incredible ache that they’d built up in me.

I heard myself saying, “please make me cum, make me cum, please, please,” as they both cradled me in their arms grinding themselves against me, rolling my breasts together as they pinched and sucked my swollen and aching nipples that seemed as if they were about to explode. I so needed to be fucked that I was almost ready to, plead for them to make love to me, to relieve me from the awful ache, to take me to that land of such wonderful sensations. God I was so aroused I would have done practically anything to gain the rlief my sex starved body demanded.

But something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t make out at first what it was. Something vague, something unusual. And then I realised, then suddenly it hit me, suddenly I felt something different. Richard didn’t have an erection. Luc’s was pressing into me, hard and firm but where the other should have been there was a softness. I didn’t know what to do. Ignore it and hope it arrived or mention it and risk bringing him embarrassment? I chose a middle course. I let my hand trail over his chest. I let it run down his superbly sculpted muscles and onto the flatness of his stomach. His hand took my wrist.

“No Mandy, no please,” he said his voice very tight.

My arousal was immediately replaced by concern for him.

“Oh Richard,” I said sympathetically for my heart had gone out to him, Richard baby, don’t worry, I understand,” I whispered turning my body towards him and putting my arms round his shoulders. I felt sort of maternal towards him. I wanted to help him, encourage him, arouse him if possible I suppose. I cuddled him to me murmuring soothing words to him. I pulled his face against my breasts. My big breasts, my full and aching breasts. My breasts that usually once they are touched or even seen by a man produces instant erections. But not today, not with poor Richard. He began to sob. Luc came and sat beside him. He put his arms round his shoulders and whispered to him in French most of which I didn’t understand.