Rain lashes the private railcar’s supple leather seats. I lift the ageless woman’s heavy Louis Vuitton beside my Hermès bag and cashmere coat. She smiles faintly, sits opposite, excusing her lack of youth or beauty. Behind, two girls laugh too loud. Steel screams against rails drown them out. Omnibus to my family’s exclusive estate. I pull a leather-bound notebook, scribble lines, snap it shut. One hour to kill.
Night falls. Platanes fist the spring sky. Rain stops unnoticed. Soft air, southern breeze. The baker—my estate’s private chef—spots me. ‘David, ride up? Waiting for Karine.’ There she is, wide-eyed, crooked teeth, rust-red silk skirt hugging thick calves, Louboutins clicking. She sways with her oversized tote. ‘Hop in front, David, like last time—in the Range Rover’s rear.’ Karine behind. Chef grips the wheel. ‘Tell her the story, she’ll laugh.’ I recount: years ago, biking post-Cecilia tryst, her hand on my thigh above the ravine. Tires skim abyss. Swerves. Near-miss. We crawl home, her pale, sworn to silence.
The Privilege
Grandmother’s stone manor glows. Eggs from village elite coops for my omelet. Alphonse and Melanie arrive for belote, vintage cognac poured. ‘Three of a kind—women!’ he smirks. Comet night, lights dimmed. At the restored lavoir—marble basin, crystal waters—I boost Sophie and Liliane onto the pedestal. Silky thighs under cashmere shorts. My hands circle waists, knees, breasts brushed. ‘Squeeze tight, stay warm.’ Village whispers fade. Fingers graze nipples. ‘Show me tomorrow? Skirts, no jeans.’ They nod, trembling.
Sophie whispers forest tomorrow. No more Cecilia—soon wed to Hubert.
The Excess
No helmets in our private woods. Scooter hums, my arms round Sophie’s waist, hands on bare thighs, budding breasts. Mossy glade. Kisses traded. Fingers under bras—hard nipples roll. Tops off. Liliane’s full areolas, dark tips beg. Sophie’s tiny, eager peaks. Suck long, pinch firm. They moan. Shorts shed. Liliane’s black bush frames pink lips. Tongue dives, she bucks, cums fast. Sophie’s sparse curls, pale clit pulses. She convulses.
Cave shelter, hay bales soft as down. Naked now. My cock throbs. They grip, stroke. Liliane sucks deep. Condom on. Into her wet heat. Thrusts sync, we explode.
Alone with Liliane next: cave again. Lips devour tits. Fingers probe slick folds. She mounts, grinds. ‘Fuck me deep.’ Cum floods condom. Shepherd’s curse echoes.
The Excess
Sophie solo: knees between my thighs, tits bared. No bra. ‘Lick my pussy.’ 69 on moss. Her mouth tentative, then eager. Tongue on clit, cock in lips. She sobs orgasm, I seed the earth.
Cecilia storms in: pregnant swell under silk. Past passion reignited, but too late. Rejection stings.
Lake cabane: StĂ©phane’s Mercedes. Nude sun. Liliane kneels, mouth worships. Inside, her legs splay on my shirt. Deep pound. Sophie resists StĂ©phane—’No!’ Retreats icy.
Liliane chases: pine branch whips tits, pussy. Fucks raw, my seed on moss. ‘My darling.’ Sophie ghosts.
The Discretion
Karine, Virginie beckon in summer sheaths—cleavage, thighs flashed. ‘Sit between.’ Promise lingers.
Train departs. Rain ceased. Soft air. Karine sways off. Secrets sealed in village velvet shadows.
