French Lingerie

I sell perfume, expensive French perfume. My grandfather started the distributorship, my father grew it and I made it into a cosmetic empire. I grew up in the business and I started accompanying my grandfather and then my father on their trips to France when they occurred during my summer vacation time. Now that I am the president of the company my wife and my son and daughter accompany me.

I go at least three times year and when we first got married Pamela accompanied me. In fact, our honeymoon included one of these trips. What more romantic place is there than Paris in June, to celebrate your union with a beautiful woman and enjoy all the pleasures of a new found love.

It was on that trip that I bought my new wife some very expensive and unique lingerie. It was in a little shop just off the Rue San Honore' that we found three of the most exquisite bra and panty sets, made of the softest, sheerest, silk. Hand made and hand trimmed with the finest of Belgian lace and embroidery; they were works of art.

When the proprietor quoted the price my bride gasped and said, "That's too much money to pay for underwear."

"Nonsense," I replied, "nothing is too expensive for you. You are going to feel so beautiful and sexy every time you wear them, that we will use them for a special occasions. The white set will be for our wedding anniversary, the black set for New Years and the red set for Valentines day, the day I proposed to you."

"That's very romantic dear but the material looks so fragile, I'm sure that they won't last very long."

"The shopkeeper assured us, in his accented English, that silk was a very strong material and the stitching was hand knotted and as long as she hand washed each garment it would last as long as it would still fit her.'

And that's what we did for the first two years until Pam got pregnant with Jon and two years later with Sue by the fifth year she was back to her old size and we resumed the tradition. There is something about women when you put them in beautiful expensive clothing. They can be beautiful, as Pam is, or even plain to begin with, but put them in beautiful clothing and they get a glow, an inner beauty that shines though that turns every one of them into creatures of desire. It made for some very romantic getaways.

Up until lately the whole family came with me during the summer trip but this summer the kids were away at summer camp so they were going to be occupied., Truth be told, I think they were beginning to get tired of Paris and they wanted to be with their friends. Pam also turned me down for the first time and wanted to stay home. I supposed that after fifteen years of marriage even Paris in the summer can get to be a bore.

Because of the time difference between France and the US we decided to not to call on any schedule but to call our cell phones when we could and if the other did not answer just leave a voice mail or text message to keep in touch. Many a time I would get a message when I was in a meeting or I would leave one when she was similarly occupied. I was gone this trip an unusually longer time than normal, probably because I did not have to concern myself with entertaining my kids and spouse on my off hours and feel badly about keeping them away from home and friends.

Then of course, there was Marie, actually Marie-Therese. I met her on my last trip, last January. She is a blonde, as is Pam, but where Pam has a wholesome American beauty, Marie has French chic. A style that exudes sex and desirability and proved to be irresistible for me. I didn't even try to resist. I knew the moment I saw her that I wanted her even though she was fifteen years younger than I. I had never been unfaithful to Pam until now but nothing was going to stop me from this conquest.

Somehow I knew that she was different, different than any of the other personal assistants that were assigned to me on my previous visits to Paris. I don't know how but she made it known that she was willing to accommodate my every wish as we worked together. Maybe she stood a little too close when we talked or bent a little too low when she put a paper on my desk to sign. Maybe she gave off pheromones or the perfume she wore but everything about her seemed to scream, take me.

She probably set out to seduce me, the rich American boss. I didn't know what she had in mind but if it was going to happen it was going to be on my terms. The French haven't yet come to terms with sexual harassment so I wasn't too worried about any workplace problems and I saw something in her that made me want to experiment.

I invited her to dinner and afterwards to my suite for brandy and conversation. I'm sure she knew what I had in mind because she accepted both invitations with alacrity. When we entered my sitting room she went to the floor to ceiling window to look out on the beauty of the City Of Lights. She said in her delightful accent,

"I grew up in Paris but I have never seen it from up here. It is so beautiful."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you are my dear."

A corny line but I had said it as I walked up behind her and put my arms around her waist. I lowered my lips to her neck and kissed her just below her ear. She gave a soft moan as I leaned into her back and pressed her body against the window.

I whispered in her ear, "Put your hands above your head, flat on the window." She complied.

"Don't move." She didn't.

My hands went to her waist and I grabbed the hem of her sweater then peeled it up and off of her. She wasn't wearing a bra as I suspected, and when her nipples hit the cold glass she gasped, and moaned again. When I ran my fingers down her arms, from her wrists to her armpits and past the bulge of her breasts, she shuddered. When she turned her head to say something I kissed her on her lips to silence her reply. Her response to my kiss was reply enough.

I said to her, "Open your eyes. Look out at the city. See the beauty and the lights and know that all of Paris can see you now. Everyone can see your naked tits pressed against the window and your lover behind you. Everyone can see the slut willing to show herself. Everyone knows what you are."

I rotated her body to face me and as I kissed her lips her hands went to the back of my neck. I could feel her fingers playing in the short hairs there. Her breasts were small but her nipples were long and hard. I could feel them poking me through my shirt. Neither one of us spoke a word as we quickly shed our clothing. There wasn't much noise either when I lowered her to rug and shoved my cock into her wet and willing cunt. Up until this moment the only sounds we made were the sounds of our rapid breathing but now the silence was broken by her rhythmic grunting a I pumped into her.

Then she came with a high pitched keening sound, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeee." Tapering off to a soft moan as I exploded the pent up energy of my passion into her womb. We lay entwined on the floor, in front of the window for minutes until she said, "Everyone can see that we are lovers now."

"No dear, everyone can see that you are my slut."

"What, how can you say such a thing?" Her indignation was something to behold.

I replied, "You came up here tonight with the intention of seducing me. Maybe make me your sugar daddy or perhaps even marry you. Well that's not going to happen so you can get dressed and get out or........"

"Or what?"

"You become my lover, my slave, my whore, my slut, every time I am in Paris. I will set you up in an apartment and you will belong to me, and only me. No other men for you, I will own you and when I am in France you will be my willing and obedient companion. You will want for nothing and when I am not here you continue to work for my company."

"I can pick the apartment and the furnishings?"

"All within reason."

"And my clothes?"

"Again, all within reason. When yon are on my arm, I don't want you to look shabby."

I knew it, I had her hooked I was going to make her not only financially dependent on me but also emotionally dependent. I was going to make her love me and submit to me. We made love several more times that night and the three following nights before I left her to go back to the States. By the time I kissed her goodbye she was in love with me and had promised to be my faithful and obedient companion. I believe she was sorry to see me go.

I returned home to the enthusiastic welcome of my children and a more subdued welcome from my wife but that was not anything unusual. I didn't think too much of it since she was never a very demonstrative woman. It was on Valentine's Day that I found out that my wife had a lover. It was on a Saturday this year and we were going to a dance at our country club. Pam had been to the hairdresser in the afternoon and she came out of her closet wearing a dress that showed off her body wondrously.

"That's a beautiful dress, I told her, but it is obvious that you have nothing on underneath it."

"I know, don't you think it's sexy."

"It is, very much so, and you look very beautiful in it. But I want you to wear the red lingerie that I bought for you to commemorate the day that I proposed to you."

"I can't, not under this dress."

"Then wear another dress. You have a closet full."

"I can't. I can't find them."

"You can't find your red underwear. How could you loose them?"

At least she had the courtesy to blush and that gave me her answer.

"How did you loose them Pam?"

She stood there silently, her head bowed and her face and chest red with embarrassment. I asked,

"Did he tear them off you and destroy them before he fucked you?"

"Oh god, I am so ashamed. No, he kept them to make me keep coming back."

"How did he get them to begin with?"

"It happened a week after you left on your trip in January. Liz Horton called me to go out to dinner with her and I accepted. We went to La Rhonde and sat at the bar while waiting for a table. We were on our second round when two business types sat down next to us and it turned out that Liz knew one of them. The conversation and the drinks continued and before I knew it we were having dinner together along with bottle of wine. I don't remember how we ended up in their hotel room or getting laid but I woke up naked in bed next to one of them with his cum leaking out of my pussy and my ass. Liz was in the bed next to us with the other guy. That's when he kept the underwear."

"Alan, I swear I don't know how I got there. I must have been drugged."

"How many times did you go back?"

"Only twice. He said he would give them back, but he didn't. I made a mistake in telling him they were special and I had to have them. He wants me back again."

"To fuck you again?"

The blush was back even stronger now. "Yes."

"OK. Let's go."

"Go where?"

"To the dance, where else? We have to celebrate the day I proposed to you, don't we?"

On the drive to the club she was quiet, I could see how nervous she was. We were sitting with the Horton's and two other couples and I did nothing to calm her nerves. I wanted to get to Liz before she did, to get their stories straight. We checked our coats and entered the ballroom and were escorted to our table. The Horton's and another couple were there already.

After greeting everyone I said to Liz, "I want the first dance with you."

Without letting her demur I lifted her by the arm and pulled her to the dance floor where she said, "Alan, what's got into you. Your hurting my arm, let go of me."

I let go of her arm but then clasped her tight to my body and held her as if we were dancing. I said, "I want to know all about what you a Pam do when you go out together. I want to know all about who you pick up and fuck. I know enough to know if you are lying to me and if you do lie I will tell the world what kind of sluts you both are."

"Please," she said, "Don't make me do this."

"You will tell me now or I will go up there on the bandstand and denounce you two in front of the whole club."

She gave a small sob and I took her by the arm and led her into a quiet corner of the bar. I sat her down and said, "Your husband depends on my distributorship for more than half of the products he sells. Don't think for a minute that I wouldn't cut off his supply and ruin him. Which means that even after he divorced you there would be nothing left to split up or to pay you alimony. I will do it in heart beat if you lie to me.".

"Now how long has this been going on," I asked?

She was openly crying now, her mascara running down her cheeks, "AAAbbbout two years," she blubbered.

Two years! Good Lord, I never suspected! "How often?"

"Evvvvery time you went to France."

"The same guys every time?"

"No, only the last three times."

"Why the last three times?"

"We always stayed away from repeats, We didn't want to get involved but these two guys were different. Usually we picked up younger men but these two got to us somehow, especially to Pam. She wanted Marty back, at least until he pulled that shit on her and wouldn't give her back her panties."

"What's his last name and what else do you know about him?"

"Driscoll and he said he was a sales manager at Reliance Machinery down on the Southside. That's all I know."

"Married?'

"I don't know. I think he said something about his kids but I am not sure."

"OK. Go to the ladies room and fix your makeup."

"You're not going say anything to Sid are you?"

"I should, but no I won't if you don't tell Pam what you told me. Also, your friendship with Pam is now over. You will have nothing to do with her anymore, not even a telephone call. If you do then the threat I made about Sid will happen."

"I promise, I only want to put this whole mess behind me."

She left and I returned to the ballroom. As I sat down, I apologized to everyone for my absence. Pam asked, "Where's Liz?"

"She went to the ladies room." Pam started to rise.

"Sit down." I barked.

Startled, she sank back into her seat. I could see by the look on her face, she was wondering what Liz had told me. Of course, she couldn't ask me at the table and the others had to know something was going on because the tension in the air was palpable. Liz came back to the table and she said, "I'm sorry everyone, I have this terrible headache. Sid please take me home."

The six of us stayed for dinner but none of us ate much and as soon as the dessert was finished we all made our goodnights. It was very quiet in the car going home, she wasn't about to bring up what happened at the club. As soon as we walked into the house she went into the den and picked up the phone. I went up to the bedroom to change out of my suit. She followed me in in less than two minutes. She was staring at me as she took off her dress.

"Liz won't talk to you?" I asked.

"She still has a headache."

"She is going to have it for a long time."

"What are you talking about?"

"She told me about Marty Driscoll. You lied to me."

She turned ashen and slumped in to a chair. At least she had the decency to cry.

"Oh god, I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what you did, or because you got caught?"

"Both, but mostly for what I did."

"It must have been fun playing the cougar, fucking those young studs?"

She didn't answer, she just looked down at her hands. I had to shove it to her,

"And Marty, he was different. A little older, more mature, a better lover, maybe gave better head? You wanted more of him?"

That got to her, she broke down completely, her body was wracked as she sobbed,

"Please what are you going to do to me. Don't divorce me, I do love you, don't take my children away from me."

"I don't know what I am going to you yet, I haven't had time to think things through, But one thing is sure, I'm not sleeping next to you. Go in the spare room tonight and move your clothes and cosmetics in there tomorrow."

I spent Sunday in my den, thinking and planning. I realized, of course that I was no better than Pam when it came to fidelity but she didn't know that and I was not about to give up my advantage. After all, she had been playing around for two years, I only had Marie for four nights. I finally came up with a way to become the Master in my home as I intended to be in Paris with Marie.

Pam, stayed out of my way all day as did the kids. They knew enough to recognize that things were tense even though they didn't know why. At dinner time Pam knocked on my door and asked if I was dining with her and the children/

My answer was, "Of course, I am having dinner with my family. I provide very well for them and I expect to enjoy my children's company. When dinner is over and the children are in bed for the night I expect you back in here for a discussion of your future. Did you move all of your belongings from my bedroom?"

"Yes Alan, I moved everything. I know I did wrong but please don't treat me......."

I interrupted vehemently and shouted, "LATER!"

She replied very meekly, "Yes Alan," and this set the tone for our later discussion.

Dinner was a quiet affair, nothing more said between Pam and I than, "Pass the salt," or similar and the kids taking their cue from us were unusually subdued.

Finally they were bedded down and she knocked on the den door again even though it was open. This was unusual behavior from her, after all this was her house too and previously she had never knocked on a door before entering a room that I occupied. When I realized that she had done this twice today I took it to mean that she was taking a submissive posture to get back into my good graces and it fit in perfectly with my plans.

She entered the room at my bidding and came to stand before me looking much like a child waiting to be chastised. I was seated in my easy chair with my feet up on a hassock.

She began to speak, "Alan, I can't begin to tell........"

I held up my hand to stop her and said,

"There is nothing more you can tell me, now I am going to tell you what is going to be. I want my children to have their mother so you will remain here to care for them.

First: You will keep the use of your car but you will keep a log of every mile traveled and a diary of every activity outside of this house. This will be presented to me every evening after the children are bedded down.

Second: You no longer have the conjugal rights of a wife. You chose to whore yourself out and fuck other men for drinks and dinner. You sold yourself cheap and that is how I intend to treat you. You fucked away the expensive lingerie I gave you so now you will wear no undergarments at all. I want your whore's body always available to me so you will wear only wrap around house dresses from Walmart while you are in the house unless I tell you differently. You wanted to be a cheap whore, now that's what you will be for me.

Third: If you touch another man or let him touch you sexually, I will whip you until your skin peels off. I will make you suffer and regret the marriage you threw away and I will have your lover crippled or killed."

"Alan, you can't treat me like this. I'm your wife, I'll get a divorce......"

"Divorce? You stupid cunt. Did you forget the prenup you signed when we got married? It has a fidelity clause in it that you conveniently forgot. You will leave this marriage with only the clothes you brought with you, and they probably don't fit anymore. And if you try to get custody of the kids I'll fight you for as long as it takes to pauperize you. You will end up with nothing. If you don't like what's going to happen to you, you can always leave, I'll not stop you."

As I spoke I stood up and moved behind her. She tried to turn to face me but I held her shoulders and kept her facing the chair. I pressed down on her shoulders and whispered in her ear, "On your knees."

She was crying softly as she knelt down before the hassock. I pressed on her back and forced her to lay her upper body across it and then I raised her skirt up over her waist. She was wearing some kind of hip hugger thong panty and I ripped it off.