A Very French Affair

[NSTlpsg]

Chapter One:

I recognized him the instant that I stepped into the train car. A
couple of hours earlier, we had eaten lunch at the same outdoor cafe, in
the town's pretty, shaded square. I don't think that I had been too
obvious while I ate my salad and drank my wine, but I did glance his way
more than a few times. Later that afternoon, under the harsh rays of the
summer sun, our paths crossed again on the ancient wall that protects the
medieval city of Carcassonne, in the south-west of France. I know that our
eyes met for longer than an instant that time.

And now we were both on the same train back to Toulouse, the day's
sightseeing done. And there was an empty seat across from him. What the
hell, I thought. I was supposed to be having new experiences. Regardless
of what would happen, it would be that.

"Do you mind?" I asked, gesturing at the open spot. He shook his
head. I grabbed a bottle of water out of my bag, which I stowed up above,
and then settled in.

Thank God, the train was air-conditioned. Just about all of Europe
was in the grips of a heatwave, and the afternoon had taken a toll on me.
I took a long drink of water and looked out the window at the platform,
which had just started to move. Within minutes the dry landscape was
rolling by, and my gaze casually shifted back into the car and onto my
seatmate.

He had closed his eyes, which gave me the opportunity to study him
without him knowing. I guessed that he was probably in his late twenties,
the same as me, though his short dark hair showed a few errant strands of
gray. His five-o'clock shadowed face was quite tan, as was the part of his
chest that was visible, thanks to several buttons that had not been called
into service. His damp, wrinkled linen shirt suggested that he was no more
immune to the heat of the day than I was.

There was no doubt that I was attracted to him. While he dozed, I
could feel a tentative erection develop amid thoughts of his red lips, his
rough stubble, the dark hair that covered his forearms, and the salty taste
of his skin. I was a little disappointed when, twenty minutes into the
ride, he jerked himself awake. I nonchalantly shifted my gaze away from
him. Only for a moment, though. When I felt his eyes rest on me, almost
challenging me, I turned back to meet his gaze.

"Our paths seem to keep crossing," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Vous avez raison, I mean, you are right," he answered, quickly
translating. "Is this your first visit to Carcassonne?"

"Yes. This is actually my first visit to France that has involved
leaving Paris."

"Then it is your first visit to France. Paris is not France."

"Does that mean that you don't like Paris very much?"

He shrugged in the French way, using his whole body and face. "I
like Paris very much. It has almost everything anyone could ever want.
But that is where my family lives most of the time, and I often feel the
need to leave there."

"I see. So you are on vacation down here?"

He laughed. "Vacation from what? My father would tell you that my
whole life is a vacation. But yes, I am staying down here, in Toulouse. My
family has a house here, and I like to use it. But what about you? Are
you on a holiday?"

"I suppose that you could say that. A holiday from my life."

His eyes narrowed a little. "That is the best kind, I think.
Where you are a completely different person. Maybe completely free and
anonyme, anonymous."

I nodded. "There can be something very attractive about being
someone different."

The rest of the ride passed quickly, silences interspersed with
idle talk about the local sights. I was keenly aware of his body the whole
time, the way he occasionally touched his face, or bit his lip, or crossed
his sandalled feet at the ankles, or slipped his hand inside his shirt,
allowing his thumb to strum the scattering of dark hairs that curled into
view. There was no doubt in my mind that I could detect his faint aroma, a
mixture of sweat and sandalwood and rosemary that only made me want to
breathe more deeply.

Finally the clattering train approached the station, and the people
around us began to gather their belongings. It was time to take a chance.

"So," I said casually. "would you be interested in going to grab
some dinner?"

"Maybe," he said, smirking just a little, "but only on one
condition."

My heart skipped a beat. "And what's that?"

"That you tell me your name."

I smiled and extended my hand. "Jason Ellis. And you are?"

"Luc de Vigne," he said, grasping me firmly. "It is a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine."

I deferred to his judgment about dinner, and he led me down a
series of narrow streets and through a non-descript courtyard before
arriving at our destination, a tiny restaurant that spilled out onto a
lantern-festooned terrace.

He smiled. "I think that we will find something to eat here."

And we did. Luc took charge of ordering, everything from the
appetizers through the entrees and salads and, of course, the wine. It was
all delicious, but I probably did not appreciate it as fully as I would
have under normal circumstances. These circumstances were anything but
normal. Everything seemed to heighten the erotic tension that was growing
between us. The textures and flavors of the food. The warm breeze that
softly moved the hanging lanterns. The murmur of other conversations that
faded into a buzz around us. The occasional touch, our hands meeting as we
both reached for bread, our feet touching as one of us shifted in his
chair. And the look in his eyes.

Hours passed before the waiter came to us with an offer of dessert.
Luc looked at me inquiringly.

"Only if you're interested," I said.

"Perhaps we could take a walk over to my place and find something
there," he replied.

My heart was pounding. "That sounds perfect."

The house was only four or five blocks away. From the street it
looked like an expressionless stone face, punctuated by the occasional
window, but when we pushed through the heavy wooden street door and went
through the dark passageway we found ourselves in a beautiful little
garden. Luc led me up a few steps to an ornately carved door, inserted a
heavy key in the lock, and propelled me inside.

He immediately ducked into a small chamber directly to the right of
the door and entered a code into a glowing keypad.

"Alarm," he said, smiling as he returned. "We don't need the
police, do we?"

I shook my head.

We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other in the
faint, bluish light that shone through the window at the top of the stairs.
Time briefly stood still. But then he slowly backed up to the wall, and I
approached him. I passed my lips over his before turning my head to the
side and burrowing into his neck. His skin was flushed hot, and I could
feel him exhale as my lips sucked at his salty flesh. As I tasted him, I
reached down to unbutton his shirt and slip it off of him. Exploring his
chest, my fingers came to rest on his hard nipples and began to lightly
tug. Simultaneously, my mouth covered his and I slipped my tongue deep
inside. In that instant, our breath and our bodies fused, and we each
began to explore the other without any inhibition. Clothes melted away,
skin touched, lips nuzzled, and the whole evening of anticipation was worth
it.

I knelt down in front of him and looked up into his face.

"You are so fucking sexy," I said, running my hands down his chest,
across the scattering of hair on his flat belly, before finally grasping
the base of his heavy cock with one hand. With the other I made a circle
around his foreskin and pulled it back, allowing the slick head to emerge
completely from its sheath. The intense, acrid smell of sex made me almost
dizzy with lust, and my jaw went slack as I leaned forward to tongue his
sensitive flesh. Luc shivered the instant I made contact, and a long, slow
sigh hissed out from between his moist lips. Opening my mouth wide, I took
him deep inside, all the way, until my nose came to rest in his wiry pubic
hair. He put his hands on the back of my head, holding himself in place
and preventing me from moving my lips up and down his full length.

"Careful, careful," he whispered.

Slowly, deliberately, I began to slide my tongue back and forth, up
and down, the best I could. In time his grip loosened, and he began to
rock back and forth.

"Play with yourself," he hissed.

I was more than happy to oblige, though, like Luc, I knew that I
needed to be careful. I reached down with one hand and began to stroke my
bobbing cock, which was rockhard and leaking copious amounts of sticky
fluid. With my other hand I steadied myself as I continued to suck Luc's
thick tool.

"You are so sexy, so fucking hot," he said. "Your dick is so big,
and your balls are so full of cum. I want to taste it, I want to see you
shoot it all over my body."

He slowly eased himself out of my mouth, pushed me back onto the
cool marble floor, and devoured me. My eyes rolled back in my head, the
hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my toes curled. As he licked
and sucked and nipped at my cock, all I knew was that I didn't care if I
ever had sex again, with Luc or with anyone else, that instant of pleasure
was all I needed to live on for the rest of my life.

As Luc feasted on my flesh, I could tell that he was becoming
desperate, almost frenzied. He occasionally reached down to jack himself,
but his cock was almost painfully hard, and I could tell that it would take
only a very few strokes to push him over the edge. I could feel the same
wave building up inside of me, and Luc intuited it from the feeling of my
balls, which were pulling up into a hard package.

"I want to cum with you," he said as he pulled me up and straddled
my legs, scooting forward until our stiff organs touched. He kissed me and
began to stroke us together. "I want to see your cum mix with mine."

Wetting my index finger, I slipped it between our cocks and began
to rub. Luc's eyelids fluttered, and I leaned in to taste his engorged
nipples.

"Oh, oh, oh," he moaned.

At that instant, I removed my finger, allowing full contact between
our shafts. The sensation of slick friction was just right, and I swear to
God that we both began to spasm in the very same instant. Gripping
tightly, Luc brought us so close together that it was impossible to see
where my dick, my cum began and his ended. Jets of sticky white fluid
arced up, painting his chest and my stomach. It was pure, sweet release.

Slowly coming down from his orgasmic high, Luc pushed me back and
came to rest beside me. We just lay there for a few minutes before he
leaned in and kissed me, long and slow.

"That was very nice," he said.

I reached down and grasped his still-hard cock. "You did seem to
enjoy it. So did I."

"I know."

"But I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Am I going to get to see the rest of the house?"

He glanced around the foyer, its floor littered with our clothes,
before turning back to me and placing his mouth over mine. His tongue
probed inside, doing battle with mine, exploring here and there.
Eventually, he paused for a breath. Looking directly at me, he stood up
and reached down to grasp my hand. Once I was on my feet, he led me, stark
naked, down the long hall. That was my answer

 

[London cuck]

Can’t wait for the next chapter, so hot

 

[NSTlpsg]

Chapter Two

The kitchen at the back of the house was enormous. The walls
gleamed with acres of white tile, the blue-enameled cabinets housed enough
cookware and dishes to produce a royal banquet, the iron range looked like
its eight burners could channel the fires of hell, and, in the center of it
all, a time-scarred oak table stood guard. That was where I was sitting,
watching Luc prepare a dessert for us. He seemed completely oblivious to
his nakedness, or to mine, as he sliced cake and washed berries. He
arranged these elements on an exquisitely hand-painted plate that he had
retrieved from the neighboring butler's pantry.

"Just one, no two, more things," he said as he set the dessert on
the table. Going to the refrigerator, Luc retrieved a bottle of champagne
and, from the freezer compartment, a pint of ice cream. He handed me the
bottle. "Maybe you open this while I get the glasses?"

"Maybe I'll cause the second explosion of the night," I remarked
wryly.

Luc leaned down to kiss me, lingering long enough against my mouth
to cause my cock to rise to eager attention. He gently stroked it as his
tongue probed my mouth.

"Maybe even that will not be the last one, si nous avons de la
chance," Luc said before he reluctantly pulled back and stood in front of
me.

Still sitting, I placed my hands on Luc's hips and allowed my
fingers to trace the stark line separating his tan torso from the pale skin
that was ordinarily hidden from view. My index fingers met just below his
belly button, and I followed the trail of dark hair down to where his own
cock was lengthening and thickening. Leaning forward, I took it in my
mouth and used my lips to roll the foreskin back. Luc exhaled in a slow
whistle as he lifted his right foot and placed it on the seat of an
adjacent kitchen chair. His crotch was wide-open for me. Several minutes
passed as I sucked him very thoroughly, very deliberately. But I was in
the mood to tease a little, and I pushed him back.

"Weren't you going to get me some champagne?" I said. "I didn't
think that your cock was going to be dessert."

"Tout de suite," he replied. "And then..." He left his thought
unfinished, but without any mystery.

We shared the cake and berries in complete silence. And yet there was
absolutely nothing uncomfortable about that fact. In that moment,
conversation would have been uncomfortable, or at least
artificial. Any attempt to have a rational dialogue would only have
distracted us from the completely physical plain on which we were
operating. We were both acutely aware of the buttery, nutty taste of the
almond cake, the tart sweetness of the berries, the coolness of the ice
cream, the mineral effervescence of the wine. And we were even more aware
of the smell, the heat, our bodies' budding excitement.

Finally, the plate was empty. Watching me with his dark eyes, his
eyes that were heavy-lidded with desire, Luc replenished his crystal flute
from the cold, sweating bottle. Reaching out, he drizzled the
straw-colored liquid across my smooth chest and down over my stomach. The
cool stream drenched my pubic hair and coursed down my erection.
Instinctively I leaned back in my chair and opened my legs wider as I was
bathed in Dom Perignon. Glass emptied, Luc grabbed the bottle and tilted
it first against my lips and then his. I saw stars when he pressed his
lips against mine and we shared the sparkling wine.

I closed my eyes as he began to nibble his way down my body,
pausing to tease my large brown nipples, lingering over the flat plane of
my stomach, plumbing the depths of my navel, before finally reaching my
erection, which sprouted proudly out of my now damp triangle of hair.

"I like your smooth body," he said, tracing his index finger
between my nipples. He moved his mouth up to suck first one, and then the
other, before placing my hand on his chest. My fingers roamed across his
hard pectoral muscles, which were covered with a carpet of short, dark
hair. "Can you feel my heart? You make it beat very hard." He kissed his
way up from my wrist to the crook of my elbow. "I also like the hair on
your arms. It is like spun gold."

Standing up, Luc pulled me to my feet. We embraced, holding each
other tightly, grinding our erections together. There was complete contact
between our bodies, from our heads down to our toes. I pressed myself hard
against him, wordlessly communicating all that I felt and desired.

Luc put his lips against my ear. "Viens avec moi," he murmured.
Taking me by the hand, he led me down a short hall and up a narrow
staircase. First one flight, and then a second. At the top was another
door, which he pushed open, revealing a large room. It was dominated by a
mammoth four poster bed. Overhead, a large skylight revealed the night
sky. Stark white walls provided a backdrop for a jumble of paintings and
prints that blared a cacophany of color

After stopping by a small table next to the bed to retrieve a
bottle of lube, Luc guided me into a gleaming bathroom. I don't think that
I had ever seen that much marble in one place. "Will you join me in the
shower?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Was I really in any
position to refuse?

The sensation of his lathered body sliding against mine was even
more delicious than dessert. Jets of warm water coursed over us from above
and from the sides, and his lips seemed to find every part of me. When our
cocks touched, it felt like an electrical circuit had closed. My lust fed
off of his, and his off of mine. And then he turned around, allowing me to
nestle myself in the crack of his ass and reach around his body and hold
him tightly against me. My hands moved up and down his torso, across his
chest and stomach, traveling from his cock to his nipples and then back
again.

"Fuck me," Luc said softly.

I knelt down behind him and opened his furrow wide. His beautiful hole
was moist and ready. Reaching over to the bench at the back of the
shower, I grabbed the bottle of lube and smeared some of the slick fluid
over his puckered skin. Luc shivered a little when my finger made contact,
and I gently traced the fringe of sparse, dark hairs that ringed his fleshy ring.
A little tentatively at first, I began by poking one finger through, and then
a second. I wanted him to be ready to accept me. There was no doubt that I was
ready to be inside of him.

Sitting down on the bench, water still spraying down over us, I
positioned Luc over my glistening cock. He lowered himself just an inch,
allowing me to gain entrance.

"Ohhh," he groaned as he struggled to accomodate my thickness. I
placed my hands under his muscular buttocks, giving him support, silently
communicating to him that he would not need to take more than he could
handle. He responded by allowing his body to sag a little, transferring
some of his weight to me, causing my biceps to flex as I held him
suspended, impaled in mid-air. Gradually, his comfort level increased,
until I could tell that he was actively pressing down, signaling to me that
it was okay to push deeper inside. I relaxed my grip on him, and he did
not hesitate to slide down my entire length in one smooth motion.

We just sat there like that for a moment, rocking against each
other, reveling in the way that we fit together like interlocking pieces of
a puzzle. Luc leaned back against me, and I put my arms around him,
allowing me to feel his breath rise and fall in jagged gasps. Deep inside
of him, I could feel the strong tempo of his pulse. Or was it my pulse?
Or had our pulses merged?

Slowly at first, and then more insistently, I began to fuck him.
Using my cock like a long and thick digit, I probed deep inside, exploring
every hidden recess and outcropping of flesh. Hoisting himself up with his
strong arms, Luc suspended his very fuckable bottom directly above my
groin, and I did my best not to disappoint him. Soon I pushed him up onto
his feet and took up a position behind him. He spread himself wide in
front of me, braced up against the wall, and every long stroke produced a
groan of pleasure. Water poured down on both of us. Bending over to kiss
him between the shoulder blades, I tasted the sweet rain, and his sweet
flesh. Luc turned his face to mine, and our lips met. I wanted him so
badly in that moment. And I had him.

I had him. I had him in the shower. I had him on the floor of the
bathroom. I had him on the bed. I had him with his legs thrown back. I
had him spread wide, his ass open to my hard cock. I had him writhing
below me as I fucked him. I had him riding on top of me as I explored the
geography of his body. I had him leaning down against me as I thrust deep
and hard. And I finally had him once again under me, as I slowly rocked
back and forth inside of him, as I gently stroked his cock, as I kissed
him, as I felt his body stiffen, as his cum flowed over my fingers, as I
reared up and buried myself to the root, as I shuddered and yelled and was
more alive than I had ever been.

And when it was all over, I was spent. Exhausted in the best
possible way.

Once again, not a word was spoken as we lay there, as we rinsed off
in the shower, as we used the one shared toothbrush, as we each took a
final leak, as we curled up against each other under the crisp sheet. Our
eyes, our lips, our hands had said all that needed to be said. There was
simply nothing more to share.