We fled the seminar’s tedium, faking urgency over Stéphane’s infection. Autoroute blurred past. I veered into Sologne’s dense woods, an exclusive haven where elites vanish. Car hushed on mossy path, thick as Ritz carpet underfoot. Birds sang sole witnesses. Nature called. I relieved myself deep in ferns. Returning, I caught Claire squatting, skirt hiked, panties down. Her pale, muscular ass cheeks gleamed, thighs taut in sheer black stockings, garter straps biting flawless skin. Urine hissed golden into earth. ‘Superbe,’ I breathed.
She startled, twisted—slipped. Fell back, soaking panties, stockings, skirt. ‘Idiot!’ she spat, legs splayed, dark blonde bush exposed in sun shafts. I knelt, wiped her clean. Peeled off drenched panties. Unzipped skirt. Rolled down stockings. Her skin velvet-smooth, untouched by sun for years. Fingertips grazed inner thighs, her heat rising. She leaned on my shoulder, high heels sinking into moss. I dried her ass, thighs, dared her pussy lips. She parted knees, breath quick. Erect now, I stood. ‘What now?’ she demanded, nude from waist down, blouse framing her poise.
The Privilege
I led her to ancient oak trunk, moss-clad, inclined like a throne. Pressed her against it. Legs wide, pussy kissing green cushion. Unbuttoned blouse, shoved bra up. Heavy tits spilled, nipples hardening on rough bark. Hands everywhere—kneading vulva, pinching teats. She moaned, ‘Oh God, so good.’ Wetness flooded my fingers. She stripped fully, chignon perfect, heels regal. Viking goddess, muscled yet lush—broad shoulders, firm D-cups, endless legs. My cock throbbed free.
In the sunlit clearing, chevreuil scattered. She shed raincoat, strode nude, ass flexing, tits bouncing hypnotic. Lay on slicker like a fur. I devoured her—lips, tongue, hands. ‘First fuck in three years. First outdoors. First cheating.’ ‘And with a tree.’ Laughter pealed. Hunger gnawed; we dressed minimally. Her crimson sheath hugged curves, braless, pantyless. Nipples peaked under my stare, game won.
The Excess
Charming Sologne inn: oak beams gleamed, parquet waxed mirror-smooth. Family fare divine—game, wines velvet on tongue. Empty room save elders, lone salesman. Butter pats eyed. ‘Pocket one,’ I whispered. ‘For your ass.’ She blushed crimson, complied sly. Wet spot bloomed on her dress hem. ‘Shameless.’ ‘Imagine eating it.’ Room key: nuptial suite, thick walls for screams. Bed crisp linens, faint lavender.
Shower steamed. She slipped under sheets, nervous. ‘Never sodomized.’ ‘Me neither.’ Giggles broke ice. Caresses built—fingers, tongue prepping her. Butter melted divine, easing my girth. Inch by inch, profound. She gasped, arched, owned it. Fucked wildly—pussy, ass, mouths. Tub overflowed with her vigor. Cum-splattered, sated, we strolled village dusk. Canal bridge: tender fuck under stars, spooned sleep.
Months blurred: stolen trysts at mine, clothes strewn, bodies slamming entryway. Seminars: her hair loose, golden cascade to ass. Stéphane faded—wheelchair prison, suicide plunge into pool. She shattered, vanished north. Her elite form—elegant chignon, powerhouse body—haunts my nights. Forbidden privilege, excess unbound, discretion sealed.
