Back in our lavish Swiss chalet, post-maternity glow lingers. Pierre and I, new parents, crave release. We bid goodbyes, urgency throbbing. Shared shower cascades hot silk over skin. I slip into my room for a negligee, sheer lace whispering against curves.
‘Please, don’t leave me alone,’ he pleads, tension etched in his eyes. I smile. ‘I’m joining you.’ Heart hammers as I approach. His gaze devours my body—full breasts, hips swaying like vines. I climb him, lips trailing legs, thighs, pausing at his iron-hard cock, arc-taut. Then up to unite mouths, Colgate-fresh breath mingling deep.
The Privilege
My hands grip his 3D printer, pulsing. I mount, impaling on velvet heat. Walls clamp like iron glove. I ride wild, elevator up-down, friction igniting. He fingers my love button in V, syncing rhythms. Storm builds; I shatter first, collapsing, eyes love-glazed. ‘Wonderful lover, hold back.’ Revived, I grind again.
He flips me, worships tits—lactation floods. Southward, he savors bush untouched. ‘Never shave,’ he growls, tongue diving into spiced nectar. I yank him up, demanding seed. He plunges, Hannibal in Capua, flooding my Po valley. We lock, sweat-sandalwood scent, sleeping entwined.
Next day, diamond ring sparkles from jeweler. ‘Be my wife?’ ‘Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!’ Days later, roses arrive: ‘Forgive me, Mamadou.’ Vase-troned in salon, jealousy stings. Ashkan calls from Zurich—ex alive, demanding, threatening. Police notes it. Pierre departs mission, uneasy.
Week alone. Café baby-foot with friends. Ashkan appears, sweet, then grabs waist en route home. ‘Done with you.’ Cross Mamadou—future minister, Porsche gleam. Ashkan pulls knife to throat. Crack! Arm reversed, pinned. I tremble, piss-soaked terror.
The Excess
His penthouse studio nearby: leather sofas, lake-view glass walls. ‘Clean up.’ Shower steams, Chanel robes tempt. Musky peignoir enflames. 20-year whisky warms. Virile scent, bulge strains bermuda. ‘Your natural perfume drives me mad.’ Lips crush, tongue invades.
Curiosity peaks—black lover myth. ‘One night, protected.’ XXL condoms ready. Legs on shoulders, he thrusts deep, bottoming out waves of new pleasure. Milks tits, residual lactation drips. Orgasms crash fast, firework explosions.
Pause, champagne pops. I suckle his nipples, lick shaft—new taste, salty-spiced. Mount reverse, ass-play teases. His thick tongue ravages clit, shattering me again. Champagne-dipped cock, balls next. Final blowjob: I swallow hot cream, ammonia tang lingering.
Porsche leather hugs curves home. Secret sealed in elite silence, walls of glass guarding whispers.
