Pauline's Paris Chronicles

**************

It was a couple of hours later, around midnight, that my door buzzed. Stupidly, I went on the intercom and learned it was Mark, who had returned. Who answers the buzzer at midnight, anyway? Only idiots like me.

"Is Rick with you?" I asked.

"No, it's just me. I want to apologize. May I come up?" he asked.

His tone was penitence incarnate, even detectable through the intercom with its lousy sound quality. So, in a moment of weakness I foolishly said nothing, but buzzed him in. I did kind of like him after all, and he did back off as soon as I said "no," earlier. A few minutes later my doorbell rang. I was still naked and wearing only my robe, but I let him in, anyway. He had a rather spectacular bouquet of roses with him.

"Where'd you find flowers at this time of night?" I asked.

"At Châtelet, in the metro, a guy was selling flowers. I took it as a sign that I needed to come back to apologize for having almost raped you earlier. I bought all the roses he had left," Mark said.

"They're lovely," I said, as I scurried around looking for enough vases to hold all the flowers Mark had bestowed upon me. I took care to avoid the thorns. Roses bought in the metro are always rife with thorns. "Thank you. I'll put some in the bedroom, too," I said, as they had already filled three vases in the main room, known as the séjour.

I didn't have a fourth vase, but I took an empty plastic Evian bottle and cut off the top, and it became an improvised fourth vase. The flowers were so pretty they looked nice even in the mutilated Evian bottle.

Mark followed me into the bedroom. I put the flowers on the nightstand, and said, "What do you think?" Mark was right next to me, and he gently kissed me. I kind of melted. I've always had a weakness for flowers, and to be given four vases full of them, well, I guess it's what the French might call American excess. I kissed him back.

We stood there, in between the wall and the bed, kissing. Eventually the inevitable happened, and Mark gave just the slightest push and I fell backwards onto the bed, with Mark deliberately falling right on top of me. My robe had opened, exposing my cleavage rather extensively, but I didn't care, since only hours earlier the two men had rendered me naked.

"I'm glad it's just you, and Rick did not come," I said.

"Rick is a fine man. He feels just as awful as I do," Mark said, as he continued to try to seduce me.

"I'm sure he does," I said, the irony probably being lost on Mark. "Two men and one woman is just not a good recipe."

"Have you ever tried it?" Mark said, while he pulled open my robe and gazed at my bare breasts.

"Tried what, Mark?" I asked.

"A threesome, of course," Mark replied.

"You have the wrong idea. You brought me flowers, and it's a beautiful apology for having tried to rape me earlier, but we're not having even a twosome, let alone a threesome. I just met you, and I don't fall into bed with a man on the first date!" I said.

"And yet, here we are," Mark said, and I realized my robe was now fully open, my legs were spread, and he was between them. Luckily, he was still fully clothed.

"Want some Calvados?" I said.

"Maybe later. After," Mark said.

"There's no 'after,' Mark. We're not having sex tonight!" There, I had made it explicit. I tried to push Mark off me, but he wouldn't budge. "Mark, let me up; I need to get a drink."

Mark got off me, and as I got up, he pulled off my robe. Undaunted, I went to get the Calvados naked, even though it was in a cabinet in the séjour, where the neighbors could see me. I got two glasses, too, in case Mark changed his mind. Returning to the bedroom, I found Mark sitting on the bed, propped up against the headboard, naked, and his cock erect.

It was hard for me not to notice his cock. It was long and thick, both. And it was very erect. Very. God, it looked to be so hard! Still, I studiously avoided looking at it.

I sat on the bed next to him and poured two glasses of Calvados, gave Mark his, and we sat there, both now naked, on my bed, and sipped the Calvados, which I explained to Mark is often just called 'calva.' It was kind of surreal, both of us sitting up on the bed, backs against the headboard, stark naked, and me determined to avoid having sex.

"This stuff is good!" Mark said. "I wonder how your kisses will taste with all that calva in your mouth?" Mark kissed me. Once again, I melted. It was true, his lips were flavored with the apple brandy. As we kissed, he played with my boobs, tweaking my nipples. I wondered how old he was; I guessed maybe 30. He was not wearing a wedding ring, but that didn't mean much.

His hand drifted south. I picked it up, slapped it, and said, "Well, I'll give you marks for persistence, but I said no sex tonight, and I meant it, Mark."

"How about some kink? Do you like getting kinky on occasion?" Mark said.

"I don't know," I said, in a wary tone of voice.

"Well, I really like this calva stuff; can I refill my glass and then show you some kink?" Mark asked.

I just looked at him. "Say okay, Pauline," he said. Pauline was the fake name I had given the two men. It sounds French. I once had a Chinese girlfriend named Po-Ling, and her name always sounded like Pauline to me when someone Chinese spoke it, and that's probably why the name popped into my head.

"Uh...okay?" I said.

Mark jumped up, and walked, naked with his cock swinging in front of him, into the séjour, and refilled his glass with Calvados. I thought of a blind man with a cane swinging before him; Mark's cock was the cane, with the mushroom head of his dick playing the role of the red tip of the blind man's cane. I had to giggle at the thought!

Mark returned to the bedroom, told me to sit on a towel he had swiped from the bathroom, and he asked me please to spread my pussy lips. Like an idiot I did that for him, and he poured some Calvados from his glass right into my pussy, to my surprise; to my shock, even!

"Now let me show you the best way in the world to slurp up some Calvados," Mark said, and to my shame, I giggled again. I knew what he had in mind, and at that moment, I was all for it. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

Mark's head went between my now fairly widely spread legs and he began to slurp up the Calvados straight from my pussy. "Pauline, you taste divine!" he said, in between slurps. Mark slurped away, and as he licked my pussy, presumably enjoying the Calvados, my arousal went through the roof. I've always been a sucker for someone eating me out. My submissive nature kicked into high gear, and I was Mark's, to do with as he pleased.

My only hope for some semblance of self-respect and propriety was not to let Mark know. My moaning as he licked me was most definitely not a good start in that direction! Mark kept licking me relentlessly, and when he exhausted the small supply of calva he had poured into my pussy, his tongue extended its range north, to my clitoris, which by that time was standing tall, begging for some masculine attention. I groaned when he licked my clit.

Next this master of my sexual being let his finger enter my pussy. Either he's lucky or he's skilled -- probably the latter -- but in no time at all he found my g-spot, and now my moaning was in danger of waking the dead. Now that I think about it, my building was close to one of the famous cemeteries of Paris; it would not do to wake the dead.

Mark finally took pity on me, and raised his head up my body. He suckled each tit, and then he kissed me on my mouth. His kisses tasted of a mixture of Calvados and my love juice.

"Oh, Mark, oh Mark, oh Mark..." I said, breaking the kiss. "You're so good!"

Suddenly I realized his gorgeous cock was right at the entrance to my soul. I no longer cared. "Shall I?" he asked, making me beg for it, and pushing just the slightest amount at my pussy lips.

"Please," I said.

Suddenly my Parisian chastity came to end with one sudden, spectacular thrust! Wow, did it feel amazing after my long absence to have Mark's big, thick, cock inside me! Oh yeah, this was exactly what I needed. To think I was going to forego this pleasure just to maintain my image as not being an easy slut who rolls into bed with men she just met. Well, that ship had sailed.

I groaned as Mark withdrew and then thrust back in, beginning gently, but getting rougher and rougher. As Mark's fucking got rougher, my moans got louder. Subtlety was not my strong suit just then, and Mark could easily tell I like it rough. My longish legs went up and wrapped around Mark's ass seemingly of their own accord, as I tried to push him even deeper inside me.

My body rose to meet Mark's thrusts, and wow had I suddenly become a noisy fuck! I had intuited, I guess, that the noisier I got, the rougher Mark got and he kept fucking me harder and harder and I loved it more and more!.

As Mark fucked me, occasionally grunting with the effort, I felt the familiar but extremely welcome sensation of a building serotonin storm. I've learned over the years that I can anticipate its arrival, and once more I was right on the money. It's often hard if not impossible for me to climax during a fuck, but there was never a doubt it was going to happen with this one. Mark was giving me the best fuck of the European Union, and my orgasm was slowly building as his big, hard cock pummeled me.

It came. It came at last. My first truly big one since my arrival in France. What Gary might have had, to give him an edge, was my love, but alas he did not have even that. Affection, yes of course, but he never had my love. Indeed, the only man I have ever loved was my old paramour, David. I had given David my love, my soul, my all. He threw it all away for some bitch named Rebecca.

Actually, since Gary hadn't the natural talent of Mark, it was the biggest orgasm I'd had in years. I screamed when I came; it was that intense! Seconds later Mark lost it too, filling my pussy with his seed. Thank goodness I had stayed on the pill after I broke it off with Gary!

I was an inert dishrag after such an intense climax. I don't think I could have moved even if the apartment building had been on fire. Mark collapsed on top of me, and the two of us lay there together, in exhausted bliss. It was now 2AM.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" Mark asked.

"Hélas, oui," I said. "I mean, yes. I work on Fridays."

"Well, I should get going. Tomorrow is our full last day in Paris. I guess I mean today, since it's after midnight. We leave Paris on Saturday, Rick and I."

"Tell me, Mark," I said. "Do you have a wife or a girlfriend back in the States?"

"Yes, sorry about that," Mark said. "Yes, I'm cheating. She knew I would on this trip, and she gave me permission, although I was planning to lay a French chick. No such luck."

"I hope I wasn't too disappointing," I said, a bit miffed. "On peut imaginer que je suis une française?"

"Don't be silly. You're the best I've ever had, and I've had a lot of girls," Mark said.

"I'll bet you have," I said.

"Hey, you may know my wife. She gave you your butterfly tattoo on your lower abdomen," he said. The butterfly was right above my slit. Only my lovers ever saw it.

"What? Are you nuts?" I politely asked.

"Manilla, right? You're from Manilla, Indiana? Near Shelbyville?" Mark asked.

"You're freaking me out, Mark," I said. "How'd you know that?"

"Ann Croydon is my wife. You have her signature tattoo," he said.

"You're married to Ann? THE Ann Croydon?" I asked. I didn't add 'The Slut of Manilla,' which was how she was known when we were in high school together. "How is Ann?"

"She's fine. She knows you, too. You're not Pauline; you're Joanie, right? Joanie Edwards?" Mark asked, although it wasn't much of a question.

"How? ... How?...What...?"

"I took a picture of you topless when I was here with Rick. I sent it to Ann, saying that you had her tattoo. I saw it when you were briefly naked. Ann called back on What's App right away, telling me who you really are, and she said to say hi, and that she thinks your boobs are still the best in Shelby County. The flowers were Ann's idea. She said I'd get inside your green dress if I played my cards right. I guess I did," Mark said.

"Yeah, I guess so. Ann's a lucky girl, if you fuck her like you just fucked me," I said.

"Ann's a slut, Joanie. She fucks every guy who makes a play for her," Mark said, without even a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Well, she was always a bit like that," I said.

"She'll be thrilled that I laid you. I hope you don't mind: I took a video of our fuck. It's for Ann; for her collection. I've laid most of the girls in her senior class; she's told me how to get into the panties of each one of them, now including you," he said.

"I wasn't wearing panties," I said, and I giggled.

"No, you certainly weren't!" Mark said, and he chuckled along with my giggle. "Listen Pauline, or Joanie, or whatever you'd like me to call you. Rick and I would like to take you to dinner tomorrow night. As I said, it's our last night in Paris. We both really like you," he said.

"I like you both, too. It's too bad you're married. I don't usually sleep with married men. Is Rick married, too?" I asked.

"He sure is. To Ann's little sister Eve. Of course, now she's 24, and given the size of her rack, I don't think the adjective little befits her," Mark said. "Are you married, Pauline?"

"I'm single," I said. "I had a boyfriend, but that's over."

"We'll pick you up at 7PM. Look, we don't know Paris. Can you choose a restaurant? Make it a nice one; we've got money, and who better to spend it on than a babe like you?" he said.

"Flatterer. Okay, off you go. I have to get up early for work and it's already 2:30AM," I said, rising from the bed, still naked and now dripping cum, as well as a little Calvados.

************

Work the next day, Friday, was a hard work day, as I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was my date in the evening, with the two married men, Mark and Rick, married to the Croydon Sisters, the two most infamous sluts of Shelby County. How on earth did that happen? It's really a small world, you know?

I wished I had a girlfriend I could inflict on Rick, or inflict Rick on her, but I had not yet made any friends, man nor woman. I flirted with a couple of the small merchants in the immediate neighborhood, in particular the dry cleaner and the butcher, and I often chatted with the bakery woman, but all three of these people sported wedding rings. So, it was just me.

I reserved at an elegant restaurant on the right bank, Les 110 de Taillevent, which was owned by the famous and very expensive restaurant Taillevent. The 110 in the name referred to the 110 different types of wine on the restaurant's wine list. The French take their wines seriously, you see. One concession: I'd have to wear a bra and panties, and hosiery to the restaurant, and the men needed sports coats and slacks. Polished shoes would be nice, too, but you can only ask so much of an American man from the heartland.

The men came on time, and off we went in their taxi. They were blown away by the restaurant, as was I, since it had the best food any of the three of us had ever tasted. We drank a lot of wine, and I was almost falling down drunk when we finished dinner. I had to lean on Mark in order to walk to the taxi. The three of us piled into the back seat of the taxi, and I kissed both men repeatedly, constantly turning my head from one to the other, as the taxi sped over to the left bank and my apartment.

We three staggered up to my apartment and I whispered to Mark, "If you can get rid of Rick we can have fun, if you're up to it again?" and I gave his cheek a sloppy kiss.

"Don't worry about Rick, darling. I've explained everything to him. His camera takes videos," Mark said.

"I don't understand," I said.

"No need, just follow me," and he took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom, while Rick seemed to be completely absorbed with his new camera. We left him reading the ten-page user's manual.

"I'm uneasy about this," I said to Mark, as he undressed me.

"Shh," he said, as he pushed my now naked body onto my bed. He was still fully clothed, and pulled a flask out of his pocket. "It's filled with some really good Calvados, aged eight years." He gave me a swig, and he was right, it was so much better than the rotgut I had! He too took a swig, and then -- I knew it! -- he once again poured some into my vag. He put his hand over my mouth and called for Rick!

Rick came in, to my horror and embarrassment and immediately got between my legs and began Mark's calva slurping trick from the night before. Rick was, if anything, even better at it than Mark! I looked for Mark, didn't see him, and just closed my eyes, giving in to the pleasure of the moment. The pleasure was, I can safely say, extreme.

Rick knew his way around a woman, and just as happened the night before, I fell under Rick's thrall, willingly giving him my free will, submitting to whatever he wanted. It was déjà vu, all over again. After I had a wonderful climax, due uniquely to Rick's talented tongue, Rick pulled me up to a standing position and he led me, to my horror, out to the séjour.

"What are you doing Rick? Hundreds of people can see us out here!" I exclaimed, since I was completely naked, even if Rick was still nicely dressed in a sports coat, slacks, even a tie! Rick sat me down on a chair facing the window and spread my legs over the two overstuffed arms, exposing my soaking wet pussy to the windows of the world.

Mark came over to join him, and each man had a box from the famous jeweler Cartier in their hands. If I had been in a cartoon, you would have seen, at this point, a balloon with a question mark or two (??) over my head, sitting on my nude body, itself on display.

"Happy Valentine's Day, our love," the two men said in unison. "Will you be our joint valentine?"

I opened the first box, the one from Mark. It contained a pair of solid gold earrings. They were the most beautiful earrings I had ever seen. They were gold C-shaped earrings. I was stunned; in shock! I barely knew Mark and all I did was receive the best fuck of recent memory the night before, and now he was giving me these?

When I regained the capability of speech, completely forgetting about being naked in the window, I said, "Mark, they're the most beautiful earrings I've ever seen! They must be super expensive. Are you sure you can afford them?"

"I'm sure, lover," he said, reminding me that he had some expectations for that night, Valentine's Day night.

"What would Ann say if she knew you gave these to me?" I said, my voice filled with anxiety over receiving such an extravagant present from a married man.

"Open my box now," Rick said. His box was also from Cartier. I looked at Rick. He had just given me extreme erotic pleasure, and we hadn't even fucked, and he was giving me a present from Cartier, too? These guys were crazy!

"Okay," I said, and my hands shook as I opened the box. It was a heart pendant hanging from a chain, and it too was solid yellow gold. It was beyond gorgeous. You might think a heart pendant is a bit corny, but one from Cartier is quite simply not even capable of being corny!

"Oh, Rick!" I said, and I got up from the chair, boobs bouncing all over the place, and I said, "Come on, boys," and I led them to the bedroom. Suddenly, a threesome with Mark and Rick seemed like a good idea.

Wearing my new earrings and my new necklace, I lay down on the bed, spread my legs, and said, quite simply, "Who wants me first?"

Rick and Mark looked at each other. Mark left to get the camera, and Rick undressed. He lay on top of me, his torso between my legs, and he kissed me the way only Rick can. Wow. I was getting wet all over again. I could feel his hairy chest pressing my heart necklace into my boobs. I hadn't even seen his cock, but it was hard, and I knew this because I felt it pushing into me, and as it pushed I groaned the groan of sluts all over the world, when a man's magnificent cock enters them.