The villa’s terrace overlooked Paris lights. Crystal glasses chilled single-malt whisky. Serge Legrand—tall, dark, thirties—opened the door. My heart raced. Pierre, my husband, squeezed my hand. We’d driven in his Porsche, lunch at Michelin-starred spot fueling my nerves.
Inside, leather divan gleamed under crystal chandelier. Silk rugs muffled steps. I sat rigid, knees locked under pencil skirt. Whisky scorched my throat. Coughing, heat flushed my cheeks. Pierre’s frustrations spilled: my inhibitions, missionary-only, no oral, no anal. Dr. Legrand’s eyes pierced. Intense. Hungry.
The Privilege
“Undress,” he commanded. Hands trembled. Skirt pooled at ankles. Bra, stockings, panties followed. Pierre unhooked me, fingers grazing skin. Naked. Exposed. Breasts heaved, nipples hardening under his stethoscope’s cold steel. His palms cupped my 38C tits. Electric. “Feel that? Your body craves it.”
Fingers probed. I gasped. Shame burned, but pussy wept. Pierre held me. Then, over his lap. Ass up. Leather bit skin. Smack. Fire bloomed. “Aïe!” Smack. Red sunset on cheeks. Fingers plunged my slit—drenched. I writhed. Pleasure twisted pain.
Villa’s opulence blurred. Marble floors cool under feet. To exam room. Stirrups cradled heels. Pussy splayed. Pink lips plump, clit swollen. Pierre stared, mesmerized. Tongue first—his, lapping nectar. Explosion. Orgasm ripped me.
The Excess
The Excess
Mouth agape in bliss, Serge’s cock nudged lips. Thick. Veined. Salty pre-cum. Pierre thrust inside me. Filled. Fucked. I sucked greedily. Switched cocks. Husband’s pussy-slick shaft next. Fingers fucked myself. Juices dripped on leather table.
On all fours. Ass high. Oil trickled valley. Finger breached rosebud. Tight. Then two. Velvet walls clenched. “Encule-moi,” I begged. Pierre’s cockhead popped in. Stretched. Burned. Then bliss. He pounded. Guts rearranged. Cum flooded bowels.
Switch. Serge’s turn. Deeper. Harder. No mercy. Orgasms chained. Ass gaped, cream oozed thighs. Exhausted. Sated.
The Discretion
Shower steamed rose-scented. Silk robe draped curves. Back to salon. Eyes sparkled. Buttons undone, cleavage teased. Kissed Pierre fiercely. “Second session?” Dr. Legrand smiled. Secret sealed in luxury walls. Glass panes hid sins from world. Our elite pact: more. Always more.
