For weeks, I observed Luc with hungry eyes. Fifty, commanding. Echo of a father? Charismatic mentor? No need to dissect. Raw pull consumed me. Harry and Suzie, my anchors. Forties, twenty years fused, passion electric like teens. Their love? My beacon for the real deal.
Luc, their intimate circle. Day unspooling Brittany’s lush hinterland, Lorient’s edge, France. Spring air crisp. Tranquil hikes, no agenda but escape. Culminated in a secluded countryside eatery. Velvet banquettes. Crystal flutes bubbling vintage champagne. Candlelight dancing on silver.
The Privilege
Post-feast, Harry’s Bentley Continental purred to life. Supple Connolly leather hugged our forms. Polished walnut dash gleamed faintly. Luc and I claimed the rear expanse. Hour’s twisty drive to Lorient. Banter ebbed. Night cloaked us. Harry gripped wheel, laser-focused. Suzie surrendered to sleep, head lolling.
Fatigue whispered sweet. Unannounced, I reclined. Head nestling Luc’s thighs. His palm settled on my shoulder. Silent assent. Spark ignited. I shifted, feigning comfort. Skull rolling slow. Inching toward his core. Felt the bulge press my crown. Heat bloomed. I teased, testing. Craving his swell.
Effect instant. His cock twitched, hardened. Pushed back my head in pulses. Like a hydraulic lift. I circled deliberately. Slow rolls grinding fabric. Turned face to his zipper. Cheeks, nose, brow, lids grazing taut canvas. Measured strokes. Saliva pooled hot. Tongue darted, soaking denim weave.
The Excess
Fingers deft on buttons. One by one. He yielded total. Hands idle. Cock sprang free from cotton confines. Rural dark amplified senses. Musk hit first. Primal, musky rod scent invaded nostrils. Clit throbbed wild. Nipples peaked sharp. Face rolled direct now. Veins, ridges imprinting skin. Pre-cum beaded slick on glans.
Oncoming headlights flashed Luc’s face. Watching me. Glancing mirror—Harry oblivious? Pleasure etched him. I engulfed. Lips sealed. Tongue mapped curve, girth. Firm, bent slight. Perfect fit. No bobs. Subtle sucks. Tongue pressed rhythmic. Nips light. His hand threaded my short curls. Other slipped tee, kneading pert tits.
Grips tightened. Cock pulsed prelude. I ramped suction. Palate crushed glans. Rolled frantic. First spasm. Second. Third—peak clench. Hand vise on breast. Hot jets slammed throat. Brine tang exploded. Gush one. Two. Three. Swallowed bulk. Milked rest up shaft. Final quiver rippled him.
Eased off. Licked pristine. Tucked softening length. Zipped canvas. Curled against his heat. Engine hum lulled. Slid into serene sleep. Harry steered true. Safety enveloped. Secret sealed in leather luxury.
