Taxes hit hard. 375 euros for my tiny flat. Tears flow. Sandrine calls. My best friend. Organizer extraordinaire. She sets it up. First gig: Nadine, 43 Rue Saint-Augustin. Bourgeois mansion. Door opens fast. Pretty brunette, forties, plush curves. Salon reeks of beeswax polish. Blond fruitwood antiques gleam. Knotted rugs underfoot, soft as silk.
We chat. Laugh. She hands envelope first. 300 euros crisp. Husband’s out, probably cheating. Doesn’t care. First time for both. Giggles break ice. Upstairs bedroom. Simple black dress off. White lingerie, stockings peeled away. We slide onto sheets. Mutual touches. Her pussy tastes almond soap, then womanly musk. Easy. Joyful. I float home past midnight.
The Privilege: Arrival in an Exceptional Place, High-End Seduction Game, Inner Circle
Sandrine grills me. Clean? Normal? Yes. Client filed. Next: Marie-Jeanne, 115 Avenue Maréchal Foch. Post-Protestant temple. Art Nouveau stone facade. Forged iron door buzzes. Maid in black ushers up marble stairs. Fresh red carpet muffles steps. Polished doors. Fluted voice: ‘This way, dear.’ Bedroom at hall’s end.
She’s immense. Quintal on silk Parma peignoir. Pale blond chignon, lorgnette eyes. Fine ankles peek. ‘Am I repulsive?’ Soft hand on mine. Sleepless nights. Needs heaven’s ladder. Cash roll tied with ribbon. Into my bra. She lifts nightie. Sparse blond bush. Vast white belly, thunder thighs. I strip slow. Jacket off. Heels kicked. Tailleur pants glide down. Water-green lace top unbuttons. Bra unsnaps. Round tits bounce free. Panties last, bent over, ass dimpled, arched for her gaze.
The Excess: The Sexual Act, Unleashed by the Luxurious Setting, Intense, Demanding, Without Limits
She coos. ‘My little chick. Those perky nipples. Kiss them?’ I oblige. Her lips warm, grateful. Between thighs now. Shalimar on slit. Heavy scent. Tongue parts folds. Salty-sweet nectar flows. Hips buck. Fingers clutch sheets. Moans echo off high ceilings. She climaxes hard, flooding my mouth. Body quakes. Eyes serene after.
Tuck her in. Lip brush. Tip-toe out before ten. Street air cool. Call Sandrine. Voice shaky. She probes. ‘Too emotional?’ Maybe. But cash covers taxes. Letter waits Tuesday. Gabriel, nephew. ‘Gratitude for aunt’s care.’ Timid voice on phone. Spied from cracked door. ‘Saw a fairy.’ Meet public. Square Gambetta. Sandrine watches. Tall, lanky math whiz. Blushes. Chocolat, then piano bar. Whiskey loosens him. Adores aunt-mom. Ignores her lusts.
Months blur. Runs marathons. Bed finally. His cock throbs. Queenly blowjob. Teaches pussy kisses. December dinner at aunt’s. Oysters slick with brine. Champagne bubbles crisp, golden. Turbot creamy. His charlotte rum-soaked. Bedroom retreat. Bottle follows. Grab cock surprise. No protest. Deep throat. He returns cunnilingus fervent. Fucks tender. Dawn wakes. Box pokes belly. Ring sparkles. ‘Be my wife?’ Joyeux Noël.
