"Truck" and Camille

I slide back inside her, lodge deep and rock to stretch out our slippery time in heaven, and we re-join our fronts, from hips to belly to chest. We kiss. Camille laughs in my mouth.

That's the moment I finally have to admit it. I love her. I probably always have.

She slips off me, peels away. She inspects my glossy meat, still lazily pumping between her legs. She takes it and idly slides my cock-head around her clit, I reckon for the pleasure because I'm still hard, then I realise she's wiping my cum up with it, as if to return me back to where I came from. Her need to undo our pleasure stings.

But then she curls down to my hips. "Merci," she whispers and with a creaky hum, gives my oversensitive end a lingering, popsicle suck. I yelp. She chuckles, gives me one more dip of the head, then unfurls back across her desk, sucking her lips.

"Well..." She blows hair from her face.

Then she yelps too.

Because I'm returning the favour. I open her up and lick her cunt clean. She tastes of us. I don't stop until all I can taste is her. I kiss splashes of me off her belly and even one across her nipple.

When I stand over her, she's chewing her lip. "You could go again." The famous French purr.

Fuck yes. "Whatever you—"

"Non. I have a meeting." She clicks her fingers at my discarded t-shirt. I pass it to her. She wipes herself dry while I tug up my boxers and jeans. She pulls on her dress and I zip her up.

We hold each other lightly. Her fingers interlaced behind my neck, mine on her naked bottom under the skirt.

I dip to kiss her. She twists her face away. My heart drops into my boots.

"I think I'll meet Mr Yamamoto without underwear on." She giggles and strokes the back of my head. "He's an old perve. My bare legs will drive him mad wondering if I am bare under my little skirt too. And all the time I will be thinking, 'Oui monsieur, my kitty is unleashed, but she is not yours to pet.'"

"She's not really mine either is she?" Yep I actually say that out loud.

"She's mine, Truck. You know this."

I nod. Slump.

"But I share her with you sometimes, non?"

I release her bottom, smooth her dress over it.

"Bon." She smacks my cheek. "Now finish my shelves, delicious Neanderthal."

She skips, actually skips to the office door. Then pauses. "Are you busy this weekend?"

Of course not. I shrug.

"Maybe, we go to my place in Nice? Can I hire you for a whole weekend? There are some things I'd like you to do for me there. You are a trained masseur too, non? And then maybe, in between..." She lifts her hem and jiggles her bum cheeks.

My shameless heart leaps. "Whatever you need, love."