Loading...Henri smiled.
Susan liked the cheerful, guileless concierge-come-garçon de café that was as much a part of the pavillon as the faded, not-quite-peeling paint, the louvered shutters and the balmy salt breeze. She’d come to treasure this quiet little place on the Côte d’Ivoire. Henri’s warm grin and genuine welcome greeted her every time.
Henri’s smile was the beginning of each holiday; the special sign that the everyday was gone and that – for the next week at least – nothing would occupy Susan’s life but the sun, sand and silence of this beautiful part of the African coast.
It was obvious that he hadn’t realized the innuendo behind the question he had conveyed from the new owner of the establishment. An accidental encounter between Susan and the propriétaire had occurred on the beach earlier in the day before either of them had appreciated the host/guest relationship. Though upon reflection, Susan mused, she had very much ‘appreciated’ it at the time. She suddenly felt a little flushed as she remembered his sculptured muscles beaded with rivulets of sweat and salt water and the glorious sight of his massive member freshly removed from her ass, semen dripping languidly from its engorged purple head. It was only later that he had learned she was a guest. She had learned only now who he was.
With a slight start, Susan returned to the present. Henri waited politely.
“Thank you Henri. Please tell him that I apprécier l’excellent service and look forward to it continuing.”
Let’s see what he makes of that!
The dinner was superb as always. Henri’s wife Marthe complemented her husband in having dual roles at the pavillon: maid and cook. The fare was simple, but delicious. It was part of the charm of the place. A well-cooked meal, a glass of good wine, open shutters framing stars over a dark sea. It didn’t get much better than this!
She didn’t see him the next day. Susan had strolled down the beach in the morning without meeting him. She’d lounged around the pavillon grounds. She’d stretched out under a palm in front of the café and caught up on yesterday’s aborted novel. There was no interruption today. So weary and rested from doing – well, nothing – she’d retired for the evening. And felt vaguely dissatisfied.
She took a long bath. The periodic drip of the tap formed a counterpoint to the gentle sounds of the seaside evening. The steam swirled and rose from the surface of the water and she smiled as the water sloshed and burbled whenever she moved, mimicking on a small scale the rumble of the wild surf not so far distant. She lay there, head back, eyes closed and pleasured herself slowly; allowing her desire to build languorously, matching her bath-induced, soporific mood. She came like a gentle tide, waves washing softly against the waiting sand, then lay there for a few moments more before towelling off.
Susan woke the next morning to slices of bright sunlight streaming through the louvers. It was later than normal, and she paused to enjoy that deliciously guilty feeling that comes with realising you’re on holidays and that it really doesn’t matter. Stuff it, she thought, and rolled over. By the time she woke again, she’d missed breakfast, so with a steaming black coffee in hand she strolled out onto the balcony to finish the book. She had only a few pages to go when a firm knock on the door interrupted the dénouement.
It was him. With a stack of towels, a smile and a slightly guilty expression.
“Pardon, mademoiselle. Linen service?”
She folded her arms and looked at him. His smile drooped.
Then her mouth twitched with a wicked grin and, while ostensibly reaching for the towels, one hand somehow found the front of his trousers. His smile returned; much larger. And that wasn’t all that was getting larger, Susan thought, as she felt his cock swell and stiffen under her touch.
“Yes please, mine need changing. You’d better come in.”
Susan closed the door behind him and watched his long appreciative glance as she lounged back against it. Her silk wrap left little to the imagination and her nipples had hardened and were revealing themselves quite prominently through the thin fabric. She flicked the tie with one hand and it fell away, allowing the robe to part slightly. It revealed the smooth valley between her breasts and she noted his gaze track downwards past her navel to her smooth, bare groin. Susan waxed before every holiday: not so much in anticipation of sexual activity as that it was just simpler, easier and somehow ‘freeing’. It was part of her vacation ritual. Of course, it did have other benefits…
He placed the towels rather quickly on a table d’appoint and turned to face her standing close. She reached up and methodically began to unbutton his shirt. One hand continued the task, the drifted inside the soft fabric to trace around the lines of his muscles, softly exploring the firm contours of his chest. He reached up to her neckline and fingers followed the robes facings slowly downwards, touching her skin beneath. She felt her body responding to his touch and shivered slightly. His hands brushed the slopes of her breasts, then the front of her stomach. A casual finger stopped softly in her navel. But he went no lower, reaching up instead to caress her neck and run one hand over her shoulders in a gentle parody of the massage he’d given her the day before yesterday.
“How are you feeling? I wasn’t sure I hadn’t been a little rough and you might have needed some time to recover.”
Ah, thoughtful and considerate. Not neglectful. Well, I suppose that’s alright then.
“Fine, thanks”, she grinned. “Excellent service warrants return business!”
He laughed, soft and low. Susan knew she loved that laugh way too much. It was warm, rich and so much the man.
Finished with the shirt she unbuckled his belt. She struggled a little with the trouser buttons and clasp until he gently captured her hands, moved them away and quickly finished the task himself. His erection showed plainly as, released from the trouser’s confines, it bulged hard and urgent against his underwear. She traced the rigid outline with her finger and was rewarded with a throb and a buck as he responded to her touch. She reached in and released him, dragging him free over the edge of the elastic until his penis and balls hung exposed. His breathing quickened as she used both her hands to softly caress the length of his rigid cock and explore his heavy sac. He, too, was almost hairless except for a thick mat of jet black curls just above his shaft. She couldn’t recall whether he’d been like that before and thought that this was probably another little courtesy for her.
She showed her appreciation by dropping to her knees and taking his head in her mouth. She ran her tongue over and around him before withdrawing her mouth. She let her tongue lick him underneath, the tip just capturing the bead of fluid that leaked from him as she parted contact. She looked up at him, eyelids veiled. He looked down at her, dark irises stark against the whites of his eyes. His chest heaved and she admired again the subtle shifting of firm muscle as it rose and fell. She returned her attention to his cock, this time taking him in as fully as she could. Suck, lick, enjoy. He was too much to fully throat, but she surprised herself – and him – by how much she managed.
“Please…”, he rasped. “You’re going to suck me dry before I even get to your wonderful ass!”
“And that would be a shame”, she acknowledged.
Regretfully, she freed him from her mouth. She caressed him with one hand as she rose, liking the feeling of her saliva oozing between her fingers. He was throbbing, the veins standing out harshly along his shaft and she knew he wasn’t far off ejaculating. Oh, she wanted that monster back in her ass though…
She walked to the bedroom, shrugging off her wrap and deliberately allowing her hips to sashay in invitation. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the raw hunger in his eyes as they dwelt on her magnificent ass. She climbed, cat-like onto the bed, sinuous movements tempting him. She could feel the wetness between her legs as she moved. She took hold of the iron railing of the old bedhead and, kneeling, curved her back to elevate her rear. Her well toned cheeks showed to advantage the delectable rosebud of her anus and the moistened lips of her sex.
He shed his remaining clothes then knelt up behind her. Susan wasn’t sure quite what to expect because she’d aroused him so much. Part of her badly wanted him to take her brutally, to fuck her hard and thoroughly. But she knew how big he was and she was a little nervous about being used too roughly. Horny as hell, but nervous.
She was pleasantly surprised to feel his tongue licking her little hole. As she had done to him, he teased and caressed her. He rimmed the edge of her anus, gently inserting, probing. He moved a little lower then, alternating his attention between her ever wetter pussy and her ass. He read her well. As she began to moan with pleasure, he pressed his cock into her crack and rubbed himself up and down her firmly: over her quivering anus, down between her lips and around her clit, and up again to nudge at her hole.
Susan splayed her legs a little and pushed back into him; welcoming, wanting, needing. She gasped as he forced the head of his cock into her ass, and then paused. He let her adjust to his size. He knew she was ready when she started to move against him, gyrating her hips around his shaft. He eased himself further in, struggling to control himself; to resist the surging demand within to erupt and release his liquid heat into her anal canal.
Distraction came from an unexpected quarter.
“Miss Susan?”
“Mademoiselle Susan!?”
Henri’s voice grew louder up the corridor. The handle turned, the door swung wide. Oblivious, his focus on a sheaf of papers in his hand, he walked into the room.
“Miss Susan, this facsimilé has arrived for you. ‘Urgent’ it is marked, but je ne sais pas…”
His voice trailed off as he looked up and registered what was happening. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. But he couldn’t think of anything to say. He desperately looked for somewhere to put the papers. Towels already filled the side table. Clothes were strewn on the chair.
“It’s alright Henri, don’t mind us. Just on the floor will be fine”, said Susan.
She closed her eyes and moaned softly.
“Keep going … please!” she demanded urgently in a low voice.
Henri let the papers fall from his hand. He was transfixed, his attention held – whether against his will or not was difficult to tell – by the sensuous scene in front of him.
Through the open door there now came a tuneful humming from the other end of the corridor. A trundle of wheels. A few words sung low in French. Footsteps. A shriek. Folded sheets and pillow slips joined the papers on the floor.
“Sale pute! Putain!!”
Henri snapped out of his trance to see his wife charging across the room. She glared furiously at him and then slapped one cheek of Susan’s exposed ass with angry force.
“Putain!” she shouted again, then turned to the propriétaire.
“Comment pourriez-vous!? On Miss Susan’s bed!?”
“Salope sale!” she yelled, and whacked her hand across Susan’s ass again.
Susan whimpered. The sudden paid was excruciating, yet it had also heightened the need within her and she was desperate. She raised her head; hair plastered to her face with sweat, and turned to Marthe.
Marthe’s face froze in shock and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Mademoiselle Susan?! Mon Dieux, je ne savais pas!”
“Don’t worry Marthe. Henri came in about thirty seconds ago and was as surprised as you. Sorry, we should have latched the door …”
Marthe wagged a finger at Henri.
“And you, voyeur! Watching the young lady!”
Henri’s protests of innocence were interrupted by a gasping cry from Susan.
“Avec tout le respect dû, I don’t care who wants to stay and watch, but I’m going to fucking cum!”
She had been almost there when Marthe had hurtled into the room. With the sting from Marthe’s hard slaps to her ass now firing her nerves, she could feel the wave of ecstasy rising within. She rammed herself backward, pushing her ass hard against his hips. He grunted and then renewed his forceful thrusting as she thrashed back and forth in wild abandon.
She revelled in the hot, thick shaft buried within her. His cock was her universe. And it imploded.
“Holy fuuuucccckkkk!!” she screamed.
White knuckles gripped the bedhead. Sweat dripped from her head, her shoulders, her breasts. Wetness washed down her legs; rivulets snaking down her skin to soak the sheets. Her whole body shuddered as unfettered pleasure ripped through her.
Finally, the bliss subsided. Susan peered through the dank strands of her hair.
“Oh, so you stayed then …” she grinned weakly. “And I think you enjoyed that Marthe!”
Henri tore his eyes away from the couple on the bed to look at his wife. Beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead. She was a buxom woman and her breasts strained against the fabric of her blouse as she breathed rapidly. She also had a hand down the front of her skirt between her legs. She leaned across and nibbled her husband’s earlobe then whispered something in rapid French. Henri goggled.
“I am a woman of some experience, mademoiselle Susan”, Marthe said, “and I think you may need some help in comfortably allowing monsieur to finish. Henri would be happy to assist you.”
It was a close contest as to whether Henri or Susan was the more astonished. Marthe gestured to Henri and, when he didn’t respond quickly enough, spun him towards her and wrenched down his pants. He was erect of course and a few wet stains showed on his dark trunks. She tugged them down too and his member sprung free. It was not as large as what was currently buried within her, but it was a very respectable size indeed.
Henri shrugged and grinned at Susan.
“Well, Miss, j’ai reçu mes orders.”
“Marthe’s right Henri. Go on, knock yourself out.”
Her current partner lifted her almost effortlessly and she gasped in surprise. The muscles in his arms glistened with sweat as he carefully lowered himself to the bed with Susan sitting on top. His hands touched her shoulders and massaged them briefly before drawing her down backward on top of him, her head nestling against his shoulder. She could feel the pulse in his neck, smell his skin, feel his breath.
“Vous êtes magnifique”, he murmured.
Henri now knelt on the bed where he had been moments before. Susan’s legs were spread wide and he stared at her bald, gaping wet pussy and the thick ebony shaft still buried in the hole below.
“Mon Dieux …” he breathed.
Susan closed her eyes and let herself relax. Henri entered her and she moaned as she awakened again to pleasure, her sex recognising and welcoming the intrusion. He began to thrust, slowly and cautiously at first, then with increasing pace and power when he knew that he wasn’t hurting her.
Arms reached up from beneath to fold over her stomach, enveloping her in a warm, firm embrace. She was held immobile and revelled in the feeling of helplessness. She had never felt this filled before and it was amazing. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked down her body to watch Henri, face now wreathed in sweat and a mask of concentration, working himself in and out of her. He didn’t have a bad body either, she mused. He wasn’t as young as the man below her, but he obviously kept fit with all the day-to-day activity of the pavillon and its guests. She laughed to herself as she suddenly thought whether this sort of thing happened often here.
A touch on her breast, and she glanced up. Marthe, now naked, had leant over and was cupping her breast in her hand. Marthe’s breasts were huge and ripe; the large, dark areole’s swollen with arousal and the nipples proud and firm. As Marthe fingered and tugged her nipples, Susan reached around behind Marthe and pressed her closer to the bed. With those inviting tits now hanging heavily in such close proximity, two necks craned and mouths and tongues devoted their attention to sucking and licking like twins nursing. Marthe grunted with pleasure and pushed herself further toward their faces.
Susan’s hand that had encouraged Marthe closer now rested against her thigh. She reached and found Marthe’s hand, still buried between her legs and rubbing herself hard. Unlike Susan’s, Marthe’s mound was covered in thick hair. It was well and truly moist and Susan worked her way around Marthe’s hand through the damp jungle to probe several fingers into her large, wet pussy.
“Oh, thank you Miss!” Marthe gasped as she opened her legs a little more to provide better access.
Susan obligingly added her other fingers. Marthe growled hungrily and ground herself against Susan’s hand. Well, there’s more to Marthe than meets the eye, Susan thought. Wait, that’s not quite right. There’s actually quite a lot of Marthe that meets the eye!
Susan felt fingers on her own clitoris. She wasn’t sure if was Henri or Marthe. But when the fingers started working her expertly, periodically reaching down and around the shaft pumping in and out of her, she knew the fingers were female.
Susan screamed as she came suddenly. The combined attention of two huge cocks, the ministrations of Marthe’s expert fingers and a wonderful mouthful of tit brought her to raging climax and she felt her fluids gush from her to sop around her holes and run down her crack. After finishing her softly, Marthe brought her hand to her mouth and licked Susan’s juices from her fingers. It was all too much for Henri who thrust himself savagely into her. He bellowed as he came hard, the thick cum jetting from his cock deep within her and then oozing out around his shaft.
Marthe looked seriously at Susan for a moment.
“I apologize for my earlier words. You are not at all une salope. You are divin!”
And Marthe quivered as she came. Her large breasts trembled as the orgasm rocked her body. Susan chewed her nipple lightly between her teeth and Marthe grabbed her breast and shoved it hard against Susan’s mouth. She could smell her own juices on Marthe’s fingers.
The strong arms around her clenched suddenly and firm hands moved to her hips. He forced her down hard onto him as his hips bucked upwards and she felt him push his enormous cock even further into her ass. Marthe reached down and grabbed the propriétaire’s balls as he came, fondling and squeezing as he emptied his semen into Susan’s ass. She could feel the corded muscles on his neck as his whole body stiffened at the height of his passion, his breathing ragged and fierce.
Susan floated free, but she was not yet done. She uttered a low, animal groan and arched her back, her body responding to the gifts it had just been given and demanding again to experience the same pleasure.
Marthe recognised the other woman’s need. She moved toward the end of the bed and helped Henri to stand. With a brief caress and a kiss on his lips, she took his place and lowered her mouth towards Susan’s sex. Her tongue gently caressing every fold of Susan’s sex, Marthe licked her husband’s cum from around and within her. Marthe reached forward to withdraw the now softened cock from Susan’s ass and paused briefly to suck the last drops of his cum from him. If she objected to the taste of Susan’s ass, she gave no sign as she bent lower to give her now gaping asshole the same careful treatment: her tongue gently foraging and licking the sticky fluids from around her anal cavity.
Marthe grunted as Henri entered her from behind. He had watched amazed as his wife had been pleasured by another woman; had her breasts sucked by Susan and his boss; had played with Susan’s sex; and then licked the cum of the two men from her pussy and ass. He had spent himself only minutes ago, but was again ramrod hard with need after witnessing such a salacious exhibition. With Marthe’s face still buried between Susan’s legs, he rammed himself into Marthe’s dripping cunt. He used her savagely and was gratified when both he and Marthe climaxed together; her screaming profanities muffled by Susan’s groin.
Susan had just orgasmed for the third time under Marthe’s skilled attention. As she watched Marthe and Henri in the throes of their shared ecstasy, she wondered just what Marthe had been before becoming the maid-of-all-work at the pavillon. A thought crossed her mind, and she put it away to mull over later. For now, the unprecedented experience of an orgy with a large black woman and two very well hung black men was more than enough to consider!
Susan turned her head to look at the manchester spread all over the floor; sheets, towels and pillows littered the room. Hmm, she thought, the linen service isn’t as good today.
Her laughter pealed brightly in the afternoon air.