The private stadium of our elite country club gleamed under twilight. Marble bleachers curved like a lover’s spine. Palms rustled, framing the city penthouses twinkling below. Leather scent from my Hermès bag mingled with jasmine air. Fabien, 18, unlocked his custom Ducati—1m78, 77kg, brunette, brown eyes. Passe-partout, except that bulge. I approached, pleated silk skirt whispering against thighs, Aubade blouse molding my 85D curves.
“Hi Fabien.” My voice velvet. Heat lingered from our ‘training’ laps. His eyes flickered. “Not great. Need to talk. Too many eyes here.” I nodded to shadowed groves, velvet ropes marking VIP seclusion. He grabbed my bag—heavy with chilled Dom Pérignon. Gentleman. His arm brushed mine. Electric. My smile ignited him. Jeans strained. Obvious. Massive.
The Privilege
We slipped into the arbor. Secluded. City lights danced through leaves. “Is it true?” Direct. His feigned innocence cracked. Bulge screamed yes. “Show me.” Carnal hunger. “Strip for it. Touch everywhere. Fuck me against the oak if it’s real.” Obsession boiled. Ex’s tiny prick haunted. Needed monster.
He hesitated. I dropped. Hands cobra-fast. Belt clattered. Zipper hissed. Jeans pooled. Boxers tented 10cm proud. Eyes locked. I yanked. Freed. 29cm erect. 6.5cm girth. Jaw dropped. “ENORMOUS!” Touched. Velvet steel. Hand barely circled. Glory.
Deal honored. Blouse off. Skirt shed. Aubade set—borrowed from sister’s vault. White lace, sinful. String, bra. His gaze devoured. “Turn.” Firm. Fesses round, firm. Designer heels spiked grass. He stripped. Barefoot. Cock rested on my ass crack. Warm. Agrafe snapped. Hands claimed tits. Squeezed. I stroked Il Mostro. Soft-hard paradox. “Mmm, dripping already.”
Finger dived string. Heat. Wet silk. “Bend. Drop thong. No knees.” Command. She obeyed. Striptease art. Pussy plump, shaved. Champagne-sweet.
The Excess
“Tree. Arch.” Lick time. But begged. “69. Taste you.” Grass velvet under us. Her mouth engulfed gland. Tongue swirled. Hands pumped. Frenzy. Mine parted cheeks. Clit buzzed. Lips sucked. Fingers invaded pussy. Two. Then ass. Tongue rimmed rosebud. Her moans vibrated cock. Finger probed my ass. Bliss new. Mutual anal tease. Climax hit. She shuddered. Juiced my face. “Fucked me with tongue and finger.”
Condo on. King Size. Straddled. Gland kissed folds. Slow impale. Watched lips stretch. Inch. Pain twisted her. “Aïe! Tear!” Tried again. Failed. Tears. Frustration. Pussy fire. “Suck you off. Cum on tits.”
Kneeled. Hands owned balls. Tongue bathed sack. Finger ass-fucked. Eyes slutty. Branled slow. Saliva glazed. Pace surged. “Slut. Open.” Grabbed cock. Pumped. “Cum in whore mouth.” Jets exploded. Cheek. Forehead. Mouth filled. Swallowed. Licked clean. Proud. “Exceptional cocksucker.”
Dressed. Lingering gaze on Il Mostro. “Next time, lube. It’ll fit.” He nodded. Ducati purred. Rode pillion. Wind luxury. Secret sealed.
