Tessie Ch. 02

Tessie pulled the scarf from around her neck and shrugged the coat off her shoulders. I sipped my cognac. So far the show was nothing more than I had seen over dinner. Then her top came off; underneath she wore a black demi-bra, scalloped-edged in lace. She moved around, did a twirl to flaunt herself in bra, short, short miniskirt and stockings. Lovely.

She undid her hair and did a toss to get her hair back in place, then put her hand around my neck and drew me close to her. I lowered my face into her cleavage and breathed deep of her scent. I reveled to the feel of her soft, yet firm flesh pressed against my face. Clutching her tits, I squeezed them, pinched her nipples through her brassiere as I ran kisses across the rounded tops of her mounds.

Tessie unzipped her miniskirt and carefully stepped out of it. She folded it and hung it over the back of one of the chairs. This was the era before the thong had taken over the world; Tessie was wearing a simple pair of string-side black silk panties, which looked nice with the stockings and garter ensemble.

She reached around and unhooked her bra, moved her arms and let the insignificant garment fall away. It was the first time in the fifteen-odd years that we'd known each other that I had ever seen her bare breasts; they were a superb pair, full and firm and round, capped by a pair of impudent pink cones. Parisian apartments are not well heated; her nipples were stiff and erect, pointing in two different directions.

Tessie looked up at me and smiled as I drank in the view, then she sort of covered herself in a sort of coy way, her fingertips fluttering about her pink nipples. "So, John, are you expecting a freebie or are we going to discuss a price?"

"Oh, I don't plan on doing it or anything like that, Tessie. I just wanted to look at your tits."

"You pig!" she exclaimed, instantly clutching her breasts; a pair of nice round handfuls. She said it half smiling but I could tell she was a bit miffed at being tricked into doing a striptease.

"Oink," I replied.

Tessie snatched up her bra and put it back on. She shot me a dirty look as she pulled the straps over her shoulders and fastened the thing in the back. I didn't care; here was an absolutely beautiful woman, in my room, clad in nothing but her sexy underwear. I was happy enough already.

"I'll tell you what I really want, Tessie."

"I hope you don't want anything weird," she said, suspiciously.

"You might consider it weird," I said. "What I really want is to hear your story."

"I already told you my story."

"That was the Reader's Digest version. I want to hear the extended disco version. Details."

"That is weird."

"Paris is full of perverts, both kinds - men and women. You must have had some really wild adventures. I want to hear about them." In the soft light of the lamp, I swear it looked like Tessie blushed at my suggestion.

"Okay, I get it," she said slowly. "You're not going to jack off or anything while I tell you dirty stories, are you?"

"Tessie! Come on!" My turn to protest.

"I just don't know how weird you're going to get."

"I'll only start jacking off if and when you start playing with yourself," I said, half meaning it. Tessie's jaw dropped, appalled. Her hand went to her lovely chest.

"You haven't changed, John," she said.

"Tell me about your adventures."