The Girl Who Pissed Champagne

A taste of the tale:

As if reading my mind, I felt the first trickles squirt forth. I groaned in appreciation, locking my lips over her pussy and sucking on the entire organ. Then it came pissing from her. I felt her anus clenching rhythmically on my finger, so I plunged it into her up to the knuckle, and curled it, gently rubbing her silky rectum walls. My mouth filled over and again as I gulped down her pee, and I felt my head swimming as if I was drinking glass after glass of wine. But I didn't want her to stop. There was something so absolutely erotic about the situation, lying on the floor with a young girl squatting over your face, her skirt around her waist and urinating into your mouth.

* * * * *

So there I was, minding my own business, just soaking up the view of the Marne River as the sun sank into the Reims Mountain. I was feeling that tremendous sense of freedom that only travelling alone can provide. I'd just finished school, and with money saved from my carpentry work I'd sailed off into the darkness bound for France and the great unknown.

The creamiest cheese I'd ever tasted melted away on my tongue, and was washed down by the delicate bite of the local wine. Gazing out at the gold plated shimmer of the Marne, I scarcely noticed the girl at the water's edge. I guess she saw me first, sticking out like a sore thumb with my traveller's sack leaning against the cobble stones with a dazed grin on my face. She smiled and started up the grassy hill towards me and it began to dawn on me just how incredibly gorgeous she was. I don't know if it was the wine, or the weather, but she seemed to me, right then, to hold a bewitching essence unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

Her white dress appeared golden and accentuated by the hazy pink sunset behind her. Her hair was black and loosely tied, mussed and reckless, yet thick and natural. She was one of those rare girls who didn't need rouge or to brush her hair. She was quite simply a natural beauty. A French treasure. Her dark eyes shone out in a mischievous greeting above her plump cheeks, and her skin was the colour of fresh cream. She smiled at me as if we'd grown up together. I almost choked on the cheese.

She stopped right at my feet, allowing me to bask in her radiance, being careful to only briefly skim over the expanse of her breasts. She let loose a passionate stream of that romantic French language, of which I understood absolutely none of, her hands dancing and pointing to the river, and up to the streets. When she had finished I proceeded to impress her with my grasp of the French lingo.

"Pardon? Moi Anglaise… Ah, England. Do you know? Can you speak English..?" I hesitated.

At first she furrowed her brow, obviously not accustomed to my accent, then she began to laugh, pointing her finger at me, her face lighting up with surprise. She said something else in French but I could only smile and shake my head. She held out her hand before me, which I reached out to shake, and I remember its soft warmth and slightly clammy feel. She held on to it and pulled me to my feet. "Come," she suggested, so I picked up my satchel and followed her.

Pointing to herself she said, "Cyprien," which simply melted from her mouth.

I smiled and replied, "James."

"Ohh! Schames," she said in her delightful accent.

"Sure. That'll do," I laughed.

She led me down narrow cobbled streets away from the river and east through the town. Lazy horse and carts drifted bye and the smell of freshly baked bread perfumed the air. She gripped my hand tightly, and I had no idea where I was going, why, or what she planned to do with me, but there was a grin on my face and a thrill in my heart like I was at the beginning stages of a fantastic adventure.

Before long, and having left behind the clutter of the small alleyways we entered wider country roads, with quaint farm houses, paddocks and jersey cows interspersed by grape vines and berry farms. Twilight was upon us and lights were being lit in the houses we passed and an evening chill was creeping into the air. She smiled back at me continuously and occasionally gave a little shiver, so I handed her my overcoat and put my arm around her. She smelt of summer grasses and lavender, and there was something so familiar about her, I couldn't quite put my finger on. It made me begin to wonder if there was such a thing as living out past lives.

Then we turned off the road and headed towards a tiny farm house in the middle of row upon row of grape vines. A big wooden cart sat beside the wooden cottage next to an old mare. It was warm inside and filled with the smell of something delicious. She shut the door and a woman I immediately guessed to be her mother burst out with a generous greeting, appearing thrilled to see me. She gave me a hug, slapping my back and indicating for me to sit beside the fireplace, before going into the next room where I heard the sizzle of a hot skillet. I sat down and Cyprien sat across from me, her eyes locked onto mine. She called out something to her mother and then did something that completely shocked me.

She lifted her skirt, and revealed such delicate thighs that I sucked in a breath and felt my cock jump in my pants. Higher and higher she lifted her hem, revealing more and more of her creamy thighs. The whole time she continued to smile at me, teasing me in a way, just revealing a hint of curly dark hair before dropping her skirt back down and laughing her musical laughter. My mouth must have been hanging open in shock as I sat there not knowing what I was supposed to do. Her mother was only a few feet away, in the next room. They certainly did things differently in this part of the world.

Pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear she walked over to me until she stood directly before me, and slid the sleeves of her dress off each shoulder. Panic shot through me, clashing with the lust I was feeling. Something was not right. I'd only met this girl a few hours ago, and now she was showing me her body, after not even being able to communicate apart from on a symbolic level. With her shoulders revealed, she lowered her blouse until the fat curves of her breasts appeared, bronze in the flickering firelight. What could I do? I stood up and pulled her close to me, then kissed her roughly.

Her tongue pushed wetly between my lips, while her hands started untucking my shirt. My cock pressed against her as I kissed her back, tangling my tongue around hers and sucking on her wet lips. Her eyes were closed as we kissed, the fire hot on our side, crackling and popping like the fire of lust in my belly. She pushed me back and pulled her top lower, releasing her breasts. They were fat and milky white, swaying before her, the nipples like silver dollars, but pink and erect. I touched them gingerly, glancing over her shoulder into the kitchen doorway, shuddering at the way my fingertips sank into her tender flesh. She caught my eye as I looked into the kitchen nervously, and smiled with reassurance before touching my straining cock.

Dropping to her knees on the sheepskin rug before me, she tugged apart the buckle of my belt, looking up to meet my eyes. My cock sprang out like a jack-in-the-box, and she giggled with delight. My anxiety grew as I heard footsteps in the kitchen of her mother returning. I sucked in a breath and shut my eyes, prepared to be kicked out of the cottage and have my things tossed out after me. But instead I heard gentle chuckles as her jolly-faced mother walked over to us. She looked at my erect penis and made the fifty-fifty hand gesture to her daughter and they both laughed. I felt my face and ears burn with embarrassment.

But then her mother reached down and stroked my cock lovingly, smiling gently at me and whispering something to her daughter. Her hands were warm and a little rougher than her daughter's, but the gesture calmed my frayed emotions and settled all the nervous anxiety I was feeling. She merrily said something more, winked at me and returned to the kitchen. I shook my head in amazement.

Cyprien's mouth suddenly enveloped my cock, sucking tenderly. Her innocent brown eyes looked up at me as the shaft of my cock disappeared in and out of her mouth. Instantly it began jerking and quivering, having been neglected for several days. Nimble fingers softly caressed my balls as she pushed my cock deeper into her mouth until I felt it slide past her tonsils. Her fingers pressed beyond my balls, gently rubbing my anus. It was something I'd never experienced before, and actually never thought I would, but the feeling was intensely pleasurable. Her hot mouth and finger rubbing my arsehole, her wide eyes and the sucking noises she made pushed me over the edge. I felt an emulsion of semen build around my prostate, before rushing up the shaft of my cock and ejaculating into her mouth.

She made groaning sounds of enjoyment as I came, her finger now lodged deep in my ass, and her throat worked on what must have been a torrent of semen. I came so much it felt as if I was pissing into her throat. My knees trembled, my heart raced, and my eyes watered. She released my cock and huge jets of sperm shot out across her lips, her mouth wide open to catch them. It splattered across her tongue and into the back of her throat. Taking my cock in her hand, she jerked it a few more times, and felt more globs rising up and splashing down across her cheeks and nose. She smiled, looking impressed by my extensive ejaculation, and rose again to her full height.

She called out to her mother again and I heard soft laughter drift through the doorway. I would have killed to know what they were talking about. 'Hey mum, this stranger I just met just came all over my face!' I was beginning to thoroughly love the French way of life. I held her in my arms, a desire to taste her own flavours burning inside me. She'd given me a tantalising glimpse of her pubic hair, but I wanted to bury my face in her hot pussy. I wanted to suck the juices out of her, lick up inside her, penetrate her anus with my tongue and suck on her clitoris until she could feel the pleasure she'd just given me. But then there was a sound of scuffling at the door.

A brief shimmer of panic flickered past Cyprien's eyes and she motioned for me to put my cock away. She quickly left my arms, wiping the sperm from her face and hurrying into a bedroom. I stood there not knowing what to do as the door swung open and a huge man with a beard came in followed by a gust of cold wind. He looked me up and down with a suspicious expression before Cyprien's mother came in. I had no idea what was said, but he ended up ignoring me and walking into the bedroom where Cyprien had gone.

Feeling a little like a kid on his first day of lessons I sat down in the closest chair and held my palms toward the cracking flames. 'What the fuck was going on?' I wondered. Obviously this big guy is her father, but what's his story? The sense of welcome I was beginning to feel had just evaporated when he came in.

Then he appeared in the doorway again, his eyes locked on mine. He started to say something, but of course I couldn't understand and I watched his face begin to realise this. He walked over, the wooden slats creaking beneath his heavy feet and sat down beside me. Then he smiled and clapped me on the back heartily, reached over and picked up a pipe, and began filling it. I wondered what the hell Cyprien had told him in there. Hopefully she'd wiped the sperm off her cheeks first. He struck a match and puffed on his pipe, then offered it to me. Seeing the gesture as a peace offering I took the pipe and had a couple of puffs, although I had no idea what I was smoking.

We ate pheasant, potatoes and butter beans, washed down with red wine. I was alone with my thoughts as they conversed amongst each other, but Cyprien's gentle eyes hardly left mine. She would give me a little smile or a wink every now and then, whenever her father wasn't looking. As she collected the plates she held her finger under my nose and I inhaled the unmistakably pungent scent of her cunt. As her father talked to her mother she wiped her finger across my lips and I tasted her tang. My cock never left half-mast the entire evening. But it wasn't until after dinner, when the fire was just simmering coals that the most bizarre event of the evening occurred.

The family liked to dance after dinner, and Cyprien's parents embraced and swayed across the creaking wooden floor. Cyprien's twinkling eyes never left mine and although I'd never done this kind of dancing before, I took her in my arms, wrapped a hand around her slender waist and began to move with her. Her beauty startled me up so close to her face where her soft cheeks flourished beneath those brown jersey-cow eyes, and the bangs of dark hair, so askew across her forehead seemed to be perfectly placed yet still looked as if she'd just climbed out of bed. Her warm pelvis pressed against me, and I felt her occasionally press her pubic mound against my cock. Her parents had their eyes closed as they swayed together and I remember thinking how in love they looked.

Before long, Cyprien's father handed her a clay jug and nodded at her before resuming the dance with his wife. Cyprien smiled at me, winked and went into another room. I stood before the fire wondering if I should follow her or not, but decided against it when her mother smiled warmly at me. I drained my red wine and turned my back on the glowing coals.

After a minute Cyprien returned, offering to refill my cup. I nodded, already slightly hazy from all the red wine and the strange nature of my day so far. I was surprised that we were no longer drinking red wine as golden fizzy liquid filled my cup. As I lowered my nose to the inhale the aroma and felt bubbles tingling my nostrils, I inhaled the most heavenly scented bubbly wine I've ever come across. Cyprien watched me closely and smiled at my obvious approval of the beverage, then filled her parent's glasses.

Her father turned, released his wife and held up his glass then said, "To your health!" in a strong French accent.

They all laughed at his attempt at English, so I replied, "Merci beaucoup!" which was almost the extent of my own knowledge of French, and took a long drink of the sensational liquid. It caressed my throat as it went down, whispering the sweetness of apricots, cinnamon and apple. It was certainly unlike anything I'd ever tasted. Did they make it themselves? My God, France certainly had the most fantastic cheese and wine in the world.

It wasn't long before I discovered the secret. Her father indicated he wanted more, so Cyprien took the jug and headed into the other room. At first I stood beside the fire, then followed her through the door, my curiosity getting the better of me. When I saw what was happening I nearly collapsed in shock. Cyprien was squatting over the jug and peeing noisily into it. She looked up at me and smiled, as if it was perfectly natural. But my eyes must have given me away. I'd wondered why the wine seemed to be about body temperature.

Cyprien stood up and her dress fell back down over her milky white thighs. Despite my shock, I had a strange warm feeling of intoxication in my belly, and a bizarre other-worldly sense floating around me. My cock became engorged with blood and I could feel my prostate expand within me.

She smiled, picked up the jug and walked over to me, kissing me softly on the lips and gently dabbing them with her tongue. There was a lascivious twinkle in her eye. I peered into the jug, running my hand up and down her curved spine, feeling her warmth. Inhaling the scent from the jug, I was more surprised to notice it was the same scent as the liquor we'd all been drinking. Her hand ran down across my hard cock and she gave a little laugh, then passed me, back into the room where her parents danced.

The strange evening was filled with drinking and dancing, yet the other-worldly feeling never left me. 'Was this truly the world? Have I been involved in some pathetic representation of a life all those years in England? Did things as strange as this happen in other places of the world? Some far away locations only the bravest of explorers had visited.'

Before long, Cyprien's parents said their goodnights and headed off to bed. Immediately I slid my hands down to her rump, and massaged her bare cheeks through her dress. She moaned and pressed her breasts against me, her mouth finding mine and kissing me deeply. Our tongues licked each other, and I explored the interior of her mouth, gliding over her china teeth and licking the soft flesh of her inside cheek. I don't think my dick had ever been so hard as she rubbed me through my trousers, unhooking my buckle and pulling them down. It sprang out before me like an angry arm, so engorged, so veiny, and very red. It was almost as if she'd put some type of hex, or spell on me. I felt like I was involved in some twisted German faerytale.

I dropped to my knees and held her belly against my cheek, her breasts resting on the top of my head, then slipped my hands under her skirt. She groaned loudly, and I worried about her father in the next room. I gently pulled her cheeks apart, imagining the way her anus would look stretched in such a lewd manner. She hoisted her dress up until I was face to face with her dark thatch of pubic hair. I inhaled deeply, drinking in the cloying scent of her sweat and sex. She groaned again and lifted one leg up until the dark crease of her lips became visible. I could see a slickness shimmering between her lips as I licked at her, my fingers stretching apart her cheeks further and pressing just above her anus.

Her flavour was sublime, a silken texture and aged vintage resonating heat and gleaming in the firelight. I licked at her clitoris, the sunken treasure above her urethra, where the wine of all wines had been released. I wanted more. I wanted it straight from the source. I pulled her forward as I lay back on the hard wood floor until she was squatting over me, her sex bulging open above the dark hole of her anus. I shoved my tongue up her cunt as far as it would reach, and dipped the tip of my finger into her anal orifice, testing the elasticity of her sphincter.

As if reading my mind, I felt the first trickles squirt forth. I groaned in appreciation, locking my lips over her pussy and sucking on the entire organ. Then it came pissing from her. I felt her anus clenching rhythmically on my finger, so I plunged it into her up to the knuckle, and curled it, gently rubbing her silky rectum walls. My mouth filled over and again as I gulped down her pee, and I felt my head swimming as if I was drinking glass after glass of wine. But I didn't want her to stop. There was something so absolutely erotic about the situation, lying on the floor with a young girl squatting over your face, her skirt around her waist and urinating into your mouth.

I felt her muscles clench and her flow suddenly cease. I gulped down the last mouthfuls as she moved down my body and started kissing me furiously, licking and pushing her tongue deeply into my mouth. I felt hot juicy flesh sluice over the open eye of my cock, and I felt our juices combine, mix and blend into each others bloodstreams, sharing out liquids and our diseases, before she stabbed it into herself.

Engulfed in her hot belly I waited, my cock shuddering with organic spasms of ecstasy. I held her plump bottom, squeezing the tender meat of her cheeks and running my finger back over her elastic and slippery anal-hole. She gasped and smiled down at me, her breasts swaying and the side of her face bathed in the orange glow of the quietening flames. I watched as she produced saliva on her lower lip and allowed it to hang in a strand towards my mouth, before I held my tongue beneath it and sucked it into my mouth then kissed her again and began a steady thrusting motion, my finger buried in her hot rectum. I pulled it out and brought it between our kiss, both of us running our tongues over it, relishing her earthy flavours.