One Night in Paris [Part 1]
It’s always a bit of an adventure to have the day off when other people are at work, you feel naughty! Like you’re skiving! The day was sunny, I was with my fella, my suitcase was crammed with exotic lingerie and a few toys and we were catching the Eurostar from London to Paris! Is it just my dirty mind, or do you associate Paris with sexiness too?
My fella hadn’t a clue there were sex toys in my bright pink wheeled suitcase  he would have stressed about customs, when I’d already decided to deal with it (in the unlikely event that I had to unpack and answer questions about my silicone & battery operated goodies!)  I wanted to surprise him!! My plan was I’d morph into a vixen of pleasure once we arrived at our hotel room and ravish him! I like to be in the driving seat with sex. My fella never complains!
At the start of our train journey I was reading a ‘normal’ book on my kindle, but during our travells under the channel I cunningly switched my reading matter to erotica so that I’d be in the right frame of mind …
So there I am on the Eurostar reading about dripping pussies and being taken roughly in the shower, so I’m pretty keen to get to our hotel room! Once we step outside the station and take a few photos on the bustling streets, me with my top slipping off my shoulder revealing a scalloped red bra strap, we set off using fella’s phone as our guide. He’s pre-checked the hotel and it’s a short walk, but with the sun beating down and my silky thong chafing my already engorged pussy lips, I want to BE there already!!
We are a bit giggly when we check in, trying to say things in french (which is embarrassing as we aren’t’ very good) but I’ve been told the natives appreciate you trying. The receptionist tells us they’ve upgraded our room, so our pretty accommodation has a juliette balcony (so Parisian!) and a huge bed; I’m delighted. Fella lies on the bed with his eyes closed, waiting for the fancy coffee machine to brew him a cup. I disappear into the bathroom, which is a decent size, to peel off my tight jeans and loose top.
I emerge modelling just the cranberry coloured bra and thong set he bought me last Christmas and his eyebrows shoot up
“See anything you like?” I tease, standing in front of him, knowing there’s a mirror is on the wall behind me, so he has a GREAT view! He crooks his finger and beckons me over and I move confidently towards him on tiptoes.
“I saw these earlier,” he tells me cupping the orbs of my breasts and tracing his fingers around the outsides and down the cleavage. “Every time you bent forward to operate the pulling handle on your little case.”
“Is that your excuse for not being gallant and offering to help with my luggage?” I try to scold, but I feel thrilled that he’s been ogling my boobs, whilst his trailing fingers make my pulse pick up and my nipples pucker to hard buds. He nuzzles his head between my breasts for a little then begins to trail kisses down my stomach, I glory in the worship he’s showing my body.
“What have we here?” his voice is deep and contains a hint of trouble, “someone’s very wet.” he rubs at the triangular fabric of the thong, already darkened by my arousal and he probes at the satin and lace pushing it between my lips and stimulating my clit which pulses and throbs deliciously with his attentions and scolding.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. Have I done wrong?”
“It is very slutty behaviour, maybe a spanking will teach you a lesson.”
His voice is becoming a little gravelly with lust, and my legs feel suddenly weak. He applies a little pressure to my back and I allow myself to tip over onto his lap. I can feel the rough fabric of his jeans against my bare skin, I have a voluptuous view of my cleavage and I can see my thudding pulse making my breasts quiver. At first he strokes around the shape of my bum almost reverently, then his cupping becomes firmer, and he lifts and separates the cheeks with the pressure of his hand, making a figure 8 with his stroking which has me tingling with anticipation and warmth…Spank!
Even though I knew it was coming it shocks me. I bite my lip and gulp and … Spank! One for the other cheek. The teasing and stroking continued while I try to breathe normally…Spank! The blows keep falling, but each a surprise interlude to the stroking and probing he’s doing all around my arse cheeks. I can hardly keep still because of the heating up happening to my entire bum area, my fleshy globes must be rosy by now because they’re smarting and a little sore but my pussy’s positively pulsing! My lips are swollen and soaking wet and yearning to be plundered roughly, now that my pleasure/pain receptors have been spanked into alertness. With his stroking my fella was pulling my cheeks apart and letting his roaming hands rub past my puckered anal whorl, and it’s throbbing to be explored. He’s also dragging at the elastic of my thong, letting the fabric bury itself between my sopping cunt lips and his probing fingers are spreading my wetness from the sensitive button of my clit, past my hungry pussy towards my arse.
“Please,” I groaned it very quietly, maybe he didn’t hear me, it slipped past my self control. His large hands continue to rub and stroke, pinch and smear and the yearning builds inside me.
“Please,” I say again, afraid to break the spell of desire he’s building in me but needing to take things further, needing more.
“Please what slut?” His voice is cold. “Please punish you more? Harder?”
He punctuates these questions with the 2 biggest spanks he’s delivered so far.
“Thank you sir!” I yelp. “Please use me.” My cheeks are heated with shame, yet excitement curls in me. He flips me on my back on the bed, with my legs draped off the side so they touch the floor. He drags my soaking panties off my legs and brings them up to his nose theatrically, breathing in the heavy smell of my juices. I watch him put out his tongue and taste my lube which coats the fabric, then he flings them to one side and unbuckles his jeans, stepping out of them and his pants.
“You have been a dirty, lustful girl” he tells me, gazing at my near-naked body and stroking his erection slowly up and down.
He parts my thighs and positions his throbbing cock at the centre of my hot spot, then taking most of his weight on his arms he rams himself home in one thrust.
“God, you’re so juicy and hot. I can feel you tight around me.”
He does not move and neither do I, for I’m his to command, but I feel my pussy hot and pulsing, and I clench my pelvic floor muscles rhythmically to massage his cock. Looking deep into my eyes he draws his pelvis back and I almost sob with loss as he withdrew almost to the tip, before stabbing back into me again. My cunt nearly cheers, loving the rough friction of his meaty thrusts. I pull him to me, my fingers like claws into his taut buttocks and try a little circular wiggle to bring friction to my clit. I feel so highly aroused now, as if teetering on a knife edge where the ‘fall’ will be my climax.
“Be still,” he rasps, and drags himself out of my pussy, glistening and slick with my juices.
“Now suck!” he commands, taking his weight back onto his feet. His dripping cock stands proud in front of him and I slither to the edge of the bed then onto my knees on the hotel carpet.
I open my mouth wide and sink my lips as far onto him as I can go, I relax my throat and feel his cock touch somewhere at the back, but this was the trick, trying not to think about that, about how long it is and how far down my throat it’s going. My lips hold firmly round his cock’s girth and I close my eyes and rock my head back and forth, my hands gripping his hips for balance, my lips and tongue creating the suction. I can taste the sweet, tangy flavour of my pussy on him, and my nose smells my juices as it buried itself in his pubes. My state of arousal is such that I want to swallow his length, to feel it deep within my throat, to suck him till he cums and to swallow all of that thick white cum too. He’s getting close, I could tell, from his grunts and his thrusts and the taut feeling of his buttocks, but my fella is in charge.
“Touch yourself baby, I want you to cum too.”
I don’t need telling twice – I let go of his hips and both hands go straight to my pussy. I rub and circle at the fold of pleasure which is my clit, while with 2 fingers from my other hand I plunder in and out of my cunt.
“Frig yourself, that’s it! Cum with me.”
I let my mouth be fucked by him while I grind on the fingers buried between my spread legs, then when I feel his semen begin to spurt I start to pulse and clench with my climax, my stomach muscles go into spasm as I cum, so that my whole core twitches, the pleasure spreading throughout me. I have the presence of mind to swallow, but my chin is a mess of drool and cum and I can smell my own pussy juices too.
His cock reduces its engorgement until it’s back to its usual state, and we both return to our normal selves, no longer dirty slut girl and stern master. Well I say that, but I do feel dirty, as in time to get showered! I get up off the floor and flounce to the bathroom, where the fluffy white towels, copious hot water and cute mini grooming products help to restore me to my usual daytime self!
“Let’s check out the shops!” I say in a perky voice. “I’ll grab a coffee while you freshen up. We can ask Reception to recommend a good restaurant.”
So the fella goes into the bathroom and I put the machine on to perk, and while he’s out of the room I get my ‘toys’ out of my luggage, stashing them in my bedside drawer, ready to surprise him later. Then I sit back and sip my coffee, luxuriating in the delicious tingling I’m feeling in my buttocks and pussy.
Our hotel is in the boutique district, so without much walking we reach Galeries Lafayette – a shopping ‘jewel’ in Paris’ crown! Its main hall is several stories high topped off with a glorious stained glass dome, I take a picture with my phone knowing it won’t do the grandeur justice. We browse the luxury perfumes and aftershaves, my fella doesn’t have much patience for shopping but if we keep to things he likes to buy I’ll be able to extend the ‘window’. The clothes and watches are high end and we browse a little before moving onto the streets of Paris to see more sights. We decide a cafe or a bar is a good destination, but before getting there we reach a lingerie shop, so I duck in. French bra sizing is different I find, and the merchant doesn’t speak any english. Trying to make myself understood I have a change of heart, the guy’s really sleazy and I get the creeps as he looks me over like a piece of meat, so saying “Merci” we leave the shop.
We share coffee and cake outside a corner cafe, and then wander round more streets, taking pictures like the tourists we are, just enjoying sights and the sun warming our skin. When my feet feel tired we find a small bar with tables outside and order drinks, a beer for him and a kir royale for me. We sip, savouring the sights and the anticipation of a night out and more sexy adventures in the big hotel bed. A while later we head back to our room with a nice buzz on!
I have dressed with care in a black cocktail dress with a low cut neckline, gauzy short sleeves and a floaty skirt which ends just above my knees; my undies are black, as are my lace-topped hold-up stockings and my high black shoe-boots. I feel sexy and I know my fella approves of my outfit. Before we came away I got my legs waxed and my bikini area too, now there’s just a tiny landing strip of hair. We walk to the restaurant recommended by our concierge, who also booked the table for us, and I hold my fella’s arm because my shoes are high, the pavements are uneven and because I want to touch him.
The waiters are polite and patient with our struggles over the menu, I play it safe and order steak and pommes frites, but I know I don’t want to eat a heavy meal or I won’t be able to be active later! Between courses I make my way to the ladies. I look at myself in the mirror and try to be objective, I hope I look sexy in this dress. In the privacy of the toilet cubicle I lift my skirt and release the poppers at the crotch of my underwear, which is satiny, underwired, swimsuit style. I lift the fabric out of the way and begin to play with myself, while watching in the mirror. I stand with my legs slightly apart and trail my fingers around my clit and up and down my slit. Whilst I play I admire the look of my dark stockings which hug my thighs and the contrasting creamy white flesh above. My pussy is shadowy and dark and, as I play, I push my pelvis forward to concentrate my tickling rubs on my clitoris, which protrudes more as the stimulation increases. I sigh and carry damp fingers up to my nose to inhale the delicious scent of my own arousal, before refastening my underwear and dropping my dress back in place. The woman reflected to me in the mirror looks attractive, more confident than before, with dilated pupils.
I sashay back to our table and trail my fingers over the fella’s shoulder as I pass, I’m pretty sure he picks up the fragrance of my pussy. I sip at the liqueur he’s ordered for us both, but we’re itching to pay the bill and head back to the hotel.