Kristina climbed down the steps of her TGV train car, met on the platform of the Avignon station by the bright Provencal sun which blinded her for a few seconds before she pulled her sunglasses down from her forehead. She was feeling a mix of jetlag induced fatigue and nervousness at her circumstances. She had landed at Charles De Gaulle airport at 8am that morning after a long overnight transatlantic flight, and now, just a few hours later, she was in the southeast of France, the land of cicadas, olive trees, and rosé wine. Kristina was familiar with the region, having visited it years earlier, but there was a new twist this time, which had her excited yet anxious: she was here to visit Julien, a Frenchman whom she had met online some months earlier and whose invitation to come spend a week in Provence she had accepted enthusiastically but perhaps a bit impulsively, without stopping to think at the possible implications. A week in the sun, among the vineyards and olive groves, what could go wrong?...
Following the flow of exiting passengers, Kristina walked towards the station building, trying to control her balance despite the travel bag slung over her shoulder and pulling her to one side. She had packed light, thinking she wouldn’t need that many outfits, just a few sundresses, shorts and t-shirts, and a bikini she had bought just before the trip after Julien had told her about the pool. Yet, her bag seemed to weigh a ton that morning. Although she knew what to expect in terms of weather and temperature, she had agonized about what to wear for her first encounter with her French host. In the end, she had ***********ed a light, lowcut, flowery sundress which accentuated her curvy figure and revealed just enough of it—she had noticed a few stares from male passengers on the plane and during the train ride, so she was pretty confident her outfit would have the desired effect. As Kristina walked past the passengers waiting to board, the light breeze was lifting her dress just enough to reveal more of her gorgeous long legs which, despite their rather pale skin tone flagging her as having just arrived from far less sunny climes, attracted more admiring glances—and was that a light whistle she heard?
Kristina made her way through the crowded building—it all looked familiar again now—scanning the faces in hope of recognizing the man she was here to meet, without success. Now feeling a bit more anxious, her mind racing through a myriad of imagined reasons for why Julien might not show up, she decided to exit the station, emerging into the sun again on the side of the building facing the parking lot. She stood at the top of the stairs and, after a few more seconds spent scanning her surroundings, felt greatly relieved when she caught site of him. Julien was leaning back on the hood of a vintage Citroën 2CV, the French “people’s car” of yore. Smiling broadly at Kristina and unfolding his arms to wave at her, his immaculate white shirt and linen pants contrasting with his dark tan, Julien looked exactly like what Kristina had been hoping for—a sight for sore eyes indeed, she thought. While a few silver streaks in his hair betrayed his actual age, he had the athletic body of a much younger man. Julien’s muscular forearms reminded Kristina that he had told her something about being a rock climber. “Not bad, not bad at all,” she thought as she smiled back and waved. Julien bounded up the stairs and approached her with open arms. She let him envelop her with a warm hug, noticing how firm his body felt against hers. He gave her a “bise” on each cheek, in the French style: “Kristina, bienvenue!” then switching to English, “I’m so glad you could make it! How was your flight? Did you have any trouble with the train?” “Bonjour, Julien, enchanté,” replied Kristina, remembering some of her French.
Julien gallantly grabbed Kristina’s bag and led her to the car, opening the passenger door for her. As Kristina was sitting down under Julien’s vigilant eye, she made a point of pulling her sundress up high on her thighs before rotating into the seat. She knew Julien noticed, and Julien knew she was doing this for his benefit—and didn’t mind a bit. He closed the door, placed her bag on the backseat, and proceeded to roll up the canvas roof of the car. “Ta da!...” he said, “sunroof… you can start working on your tan right away!” Kristina smiled and hiked up her dress even more, her appropriately lavender-colored silk panties becoming visible to Julien when he sat at the wheel. “You’ll fit right in,” he said with a smile while starting the engine. The old 2CV came to life with somewhat worrisome rattling sounds and a bit of exhaust backfire, and they were off. “Have you been to Avignon before?” “Nope, first time!” “Ok, I’ll take a little detour so you can see the Palace. I know you must be pretty tired from your flight, jet lag and all that. It won’t take long.”
Julien got on the Rocade Charles De Gaulle going north, following the Rhone River to give Kristina a view of the city’s medieval ramparts, “dating back to 14th century, when the popes resided here, in the middle of the vineyards. You’ve heard of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, right?” explained Julien as they drove by. “Impressive,” replied Kristina, trying to suppress a yawn. “I’m sorry, you’re probably not in the mood for old stones. We’ll come back another time,” Julien said, pressing his right hand on Kristina’s naked thigh. She smiled and placed her hand on top of his: “Thanks, Julien. I’m sorry, but I never sleep well on those transatlantic flights and I can’t wait to go have a nap by the pool you’ve been telling me about.” “I understand. We won’t be there for another hour or so, but you can start your nap now if you’d like. Sorry that my car is not the most comfortable or quietest.” “Don’t worry, Julien, I’m so happy to be here, I’ll be just fine.” She smiled sweetly.
Julien took the direction of Carpentras. He wanted to drive by the well-known wine villages of Vacqueyras and Gigondas and give Kristina a chance to admire the famous crest jutting up behind them called Dentelles de Montmirail, one of his favorite local climbing crags. The temperature was rising and the open roof exposed them to the bright Provence sun, but the flow of air was refreshing enough to keep them comfortable. Though she was trying hard to stay awake to not miss out on the breathtaking scenery, Kristina was dozing off, her head resting on the seat belt. In her semi-conscious state, she could feel Julien’s hand landing on her left thigh after he took it off the gear shift. These gentle strokes, which at first were just helping her stay awake, soon became much more distracting. Although they had barely met, Kristina was now imagining Julien’s hand venturing further up her thigh to her panties, caressing her pussy through the thin silky fabric, even probing inside her with a finger. She could feel her pussy becoming moist and would not have stopped him if he had tried. Since, alas, Julien was behaving like a perfect gentleman and not fulfilling her fantasy, she had a sudden urge to grab his hand and show it the way. “Look!” Julien’s hand had left her thigh to point to something in the distance, “the Dentelles!” “Beautiful!” she exclaimed, doing her best to shrug off her slight feeling of disappointment. “Cool your jets, lady,” she told herself, “no need to rush things… I have a whole week to seduce him.” She couldn’t help grinning at the thought. And now she wanted him even more.
There was barely any traffic and they were making good time, despite the limitations of the 2CV’s small motor. At least, Julien wasn’t at much risk to be stopped for speeding. They passed Sablet, then the gorgeous village of Seguret, and easily drove through Vaison-la-Romaine before turning south toward Malaucène. The terrain was getting more mountainous as they approached the area surrounding the Mont Ventoux, the highest mountain in the department and the site of a classic and famously strenuous stage in the Tour de France biking race. Julien turned on a smaller road, then, after going through the village of Pierrelongue, turned on an even smaller one that soon became a dirt road. They approached a white gate which Julien pushed open after stopping the car. He drove in, stopping a little further up a gravel path which led to the house, a magnificent Provence stone mas built in a small cirque and dominated by a forested crest. It was a charming looking house, with several levels seemingly built to fit in the slanted terrain. An iconic row of tall cypresses shielded the house on one side, and fruit and olive trees grew on terraces above. The scent of the pine trees further up on the slopes mixed with that of the lavender bushes all around. Kristina stepped out of the car: “Wow! What a place, Julien…” “My parents found it, it was a ruin, but they did a pretty good job restoring it, don’t you think? Come on,” he added, leading Kristina by the hand, “let me show you around.”
The gravel path led to a large terrace of flagstones just outside a series of French doors on the southern side of the house. At the other end of the terrace, stone stairs climbed among gnarled olive trees toward what looked like a wide open area. Kristina heard the faint sound of a pump: “The pool?” she said, pointing up. “That’s right, we’ll go in just a minute. But let me show you where you’ll stay first.” Julien opened wide one of the sets of French doors and Kristina followed him inside, in what seemed to be the dining room and the adjacent living room. Despite the rising heat outside, it was refreshingly cool indoors. Kristina noticed right away the simple yet elegant farm table that could seat probably ten or twelve, surrounded by Provence-style chairs with their hand-woven straw seats and high ladder backs. A gorgeous stone fireplace was the centerpiece of the lower part of the living room, with a few steps leading up to the higher section where Kristina could see bookshelves lining the walls, comfortable looking leather chairs, a spinet and a few other musical instruments at the far end.
“This way,” said Julien starting up a flight of narrow stairs, “your room is up here.” She followed him up and along a short corridor into a small but cozy bedroom with doors opening onto a terrace facing north. Julien placed Kristina’s travel bag on the queen-size four poster bed, and pushed down on the bedding: “I hope you find it comfortable. There’s some blankets in the armoire—it can get a bit cold at night, even this time of year… and the bathroom is this way,” he continued, opening another door. Kristina peeked inside: it was a rather long room with a two sinks side by side, a bidet, and an old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub facing a large window with a view of a distant mountain range. Julien pointed out another door across from where they had entered: “That’s my room. Sorry, we have to share the bathroom… but you can lock it when you’re using it, you know,” he added, pointing out the door bolt. “Oh, and the WC are the first door on the left at the beginning of the corridor.” Kristina smiled: the bidet and the separate restroom were quintessentially French! “I’ll let you get settled,” said Julien, “but after that, join me for a swim if you’d like. You know the way now. I’m going to go put on my swimsuit.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Kristina opened the doors to the terrace to have a quick look at the view. After having been inside for a few minutes, she was caught by surprise by the midday heat and soon retreated to the cooler indoors, making sure to close the shutters halfway so as to preserve the freshness of the air. She took off her sundress and threw it on a chair, removed her panties and bra and, catching her reflection in the old-fashioned standing mirror in the corner, spent a few seconds inspecting herself. Satisfied that her appearance would please her host, she pirouetted once on the tip of her toes and flopped backwards on top of the bed. She already felt tingly at the thought of Julien undressing her with his eyes—or, even better, with his hands—but the fresh breeze entering the room through the open door and caressing her naked body heightened the sensation. She cupped her shapely breasts with her hands, pinched her nipples for a few seconds, caressed her sides and stomach, until one hand landed on her smooth mound and her fingers started moving back and forth over her clitoris and pussy lips. Even in her state of jet lag induced fatigue, she wanted sex. She was visualizing Julien’s naked body, which she had yet to actually see, hovering over her. She was trying to imagine what his hands on her body would feel like, where they would touch her first and go next, how his kiss would taste, how much would his hard cock stretch her vagina—which she was now penetrating with two fingers while breathing more loudly. “Ok, I’m going up now!” Julien’s voice, which seemed to come from just outside her door, stopped Kristina in her tracks. She was petrified that he might have heard her. “Be right there!” she replied, trying to sound casual. She trotted to the bathroom, quickly rinsed her fingers and patted dry her pussy, and came back into the bedroom to fish out of her bag and slip on the bright red bikini she had acquired just for this moment. She inspected herself again in the mirror, smiling at her own daringness—the suit did not cover much of her body at all—then making a sulky pout when she realized how pale it made her skin look. “Time to go work on my tan,” she thought as she hurried out of the bedroom.
Kristina climbed the last few stone steps passed the olive grove and could now see the pool. It wasn’t Olympic-size by any means, though long enough for a good dozen strokes, but the setting was breathtaking. The sand-colored flagstones and retaining walls surrounding the pool matched the dominant earth tones of the terrain beyond them. The terrace on which the pool was built was well above the house, and one could even see the valley below over the top of the trees. The water was a limpid blue and so inviting. A couple of chaises longues looked perfect for that nap Kristina had been craving. And there was Julien in a snug dark blue swimsuit, fishing a few dead leaves and crickets out of the water. Kristina had stopped and was admiring his tanned and lean, yet muscular body. Julien’s small swimsuit, she noticed, was far more fetching than those baggy swimming trunks men wear where she came from, but also more telling of the anatomy they barely hid, which Kristina was visualizing with relish. A burning sensation on the soles of her feet from the hot flagstones interrupted her musings and reminded her that she probably should have worn sandals. She whimpered and began dancing from one foot to the other until Julien, who had looked up and understood her predicament, gestured for her to go to the shady area by the pump house. He ran over to meet her there: “You made it! But why didn’t you wear some flip-flops or something? I’ll get you some later…” He took her hand and twirled her around once: “Nice swimsuit, by the way! I love the color!” Then, pulling her by the hand: “But you know what’s the simplest solution to your problem? Let’s get in the pool!”
Julien went down the few steps that led to the shallow end of the pool, trying to make Kristina follow him. She stopped at the edge and dipped a toe in the water: “Cold!!...” “That’s because you’ve been standing… in a frying pan essentially. Come on, jump in. It’ll be a little bit of a shock, but then you’ll feel so good!” Resigned, Kristina walked down until the water reached her knees—“Don’t be such a wimp,” she thought—and dove in with a shriek. The cold water took her breath away, and she swam with quick strokes to try to warm herself up. As Julien had told her though, her body soon adapted and by the time she reached the other end she felt very much at ease. She pushed away from the wall, doing a couple of backstrokes, and now reaching true bliss, let herself float in the middle of the pool looking up at the cloudless blue sky. She heard some splashing noises but couldn’t be bothered to find out what they were about, until Julien’s head emerged from the water just beyond her toes which were barely showing above the surface. He shook the water from his head: “This is nice, isn’t it?” “Heavenly!” They continued to wade and swim, sometimes side by side, sometimes close enough that their bodies would touch for a second or two. Julien would reach and grab Kristina playfully by a leg or an arm, and her mind would immediately be taken over by a desire for more prolonged contact, making her feel warm inside.
They leaned against the edge of the pool for a bit, chatting about this and that. Kristina’s elbows were up, pushing her chest forward and giving Julien a privileged view of her hard nipples pushing through the fabric of her skimpy bikini bra. She noticed him looking away, probably embarrassed by his obvious stare, but she didn’t say anything. Julien suddenly acknowledged his distracted state: “Oh gosh, where are my manners! You must be starving! What shall I prepare for you? Just tell me what you want.” “I’m not all that hungry,” replied Kristina with a frown, “feeling a bit queasy actually, maybe because of jetlag… but I’d love a good cup of coffee!” “Oh, I can definitely do that for you! I’ll be right back!” Julien climbed over the edge, toweled himself off hurriedly, and pointed to the pump house: “There’s more towels and even a bathrobe in there, and a shower to rinse off the chlorine if you wanted.” He started down the stone stairway towards the house. Kristina stepped out of the pool and went to have a closer look at the small building. She found the shower stall, took off her bikini and rinsed herself off quickly, while keeping a close eye on what seemed to be a rather large and hairy spider at the center of a web built in the corner of the low ceiling. She toweled herself dry and, since she was alone, opted to remain naked, but spread the towel on top of one of the lounge chairs and lied face down on the towel. The sun warmed her skin, drying off droplets of water she had missed, and the gentle breeze over her back was simply delightful. She closed her eyes and let herself drift away.
“Kristina…” she heard Julien say in a soft voice as she came to. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and the aroma of perfectly brewed Arabica entered her nostrils. In a flash, she remembered she wasn’t wearing anything. She sat up quickly and, clutching the towel to keep it close to her body, she wrapped herself in it while blushing a little. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep for a minute.” “I don’t mind at all, we’re among friends here,” replied Julien, trying to ease the tension with a smile. Kristina’s expression was enough to communicate he hadn’t quite succeeded, and he quickly added: “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable… but I, er, didn’t want the coffee to get cold.” “Don’t worry, I didn’t see a thing,” he said, realizing as soon as he had stopped talking that he probably should have quit while he was ahead. Kristina, in fact, was pretty certain he had seen plenty and was now blushing more conspicuously. “Ok, I did see some of your, er, back, but it was lovely.” Julien, now staring at the floor, looked like the one who was embarrassed. Meanwhile, Kristina’s inner voice was chastising her: “What are you doing? Just an hour ago, you wanted him to stick his fingers in your pussy!” She collected herself and said: “I’m sorry, Julien, it’s no big deal, you didn’t do anything wrong… Come on, let’s have that coffee, it smells amazing!” They both smiled, exchanging slightly awkward glances, and took sips of espresso.
Having deployed a parasol to get some relief from the hot sun, Julien sat back down and steered the conversation to making plans for the next few days. Kristina was reminiscing about her last stay in Provence, mentioning what she had seen then and what she was eager to see this time. She tried one of the croquettes de Vinsobres, a local equivalent of biscottis, dipping it first into her coffee as she has seen Julien do, and made appreciative noises while chewing on the cookie. “Delicious!” she said, “I love almonds, I could eat the whole box!” “Have as many as you like,” replied Julien, “there’s plenty more where they came from.” “You’re trying to get me fat, mister?” Kristina joked. “I have to preserve my girlish figure, you know!” “I love your girlish figure,” said Julien, a bit more intensely than he had wished to sound. “You do, don’t you?” Kristina heard herself say, her tone no longer casual either. She leaned back a bit, observing Julien who had remained silent. There was definitely unease in his body language, quick glances in Kristina’s direction, eyes darting back to the ground, a bit of shuffling in his seat. Yet, she instinctively knew he wanted her. Their online conversations these past few months had never patently breached the subject, even if the sexual tension manifested itself now and again through innuendos and double-entendres. Since Kristina had come off the train, they had been clearly flirting, with some touching, caresses even. They both expected it to happen, yet no one was making the first overt move. “Well…” Kristina got up and stood in front of him, undoing the towel which dropped to the ground, and said softly with a slight tremolo in her voice: “I’m here, Julien…”
Julien was no longer looking at the floor. Kristina was a sight to behold: her toned body, her ample but firm breasts with mouth-wateringly raised nipples, the curve of her hips, her strong thighs coming together at her perfectly smooth mound, her whole being was more beautiful than Julien had imagined in his wildest dreams. After was seemed like an eternity, he finally stood up from his seat, offering both open hands to her. Kristina took them in hers and they both pulled gently towards one another. Julien let go of her hands to reach around her in a warm embrace, and Kristina’s freed hands closed around his butt cheek, while their mouths met and their tongues began to dance. The slightest friction of Kristina’s hardening nipples against Julien's chest brought her incredible pleasure, and she could feel herself getting wetter by the second. The feeling of arousal must have been mutual, for Kristina soon felt something bulging against her lower belly. With a quick downward glance, she caught sight of Julien’s swelling penis emerging over the top of the small swimsuit, now unable to contain his manhood. She reached between them and grabbed it, making Julien gasp with pleasure. He responded by spreading her ass cheeks wider and reaching down with one hand to massage her drenched pussy. They didn’t stop kissing the whole time, their lips still pressed against each other and their tongues exploring wildly. Kristina pushed Julien’s swimsuit out of the way by sliding it down his thighs, then began stroking his fully erect cock with one hand and cupping his balls with the other. Julien was trying to say something, and finally uttered: “Let’s go inside.” Without waiting for Kristina’s answer, he grabbed her behind the shoulders and under the bend in her knees, lifting her seemingly effortlessly, and carried her back to the house.
In no time, they were at the top of the stairs, then in Julien’s bedroom at the end of the corridor. The closed shutters kept the room in relative darkness, but Kristina’s eyes quickly adjusted to the low light. She was hanging on to Julien’s neck while he laid her down gently on the wide bed. He removed his swimsuit and kneeled on the bed next to her, his smooth-shaved groin and erect penis close to her face. She didn’t have to ask what he wanted from her, and she was eager to oblige. Propping herself up slightly on a pillow, she began teasing the tip of his cock with her tongue, touching it lightly, licking in circles and then stopping, to make him want it so much more, all the while caressing the underside of his testicles with her nails. Meanwhile, Julien’s hands were exploring her body, her sensitive breasts first, massaging them with the open hands, pinching and tugging at her fascinatingly enlarged nipples—she wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but she didn’t want him to stop. He did, however, and very lightly traced a path the length of her lower abdomen with the tip of his fingers, which made her body tense up and arch. Then, he was caressing her legs, insisting on the inner part of her upper thighs, as he could feel her body flinching under his touch. Kristina felt like stakes of pleasure were slowly being driven through her lower body.
Eventually, Julien’s fingers found their way to her wet pussy, teasing her clit, spreading her lips and pushing inside her, driving her mad with desire for more substantial penetration. Bending his torso while still keeping his cock within reach of Kristina’s mouth, Julien was able to reach her pussy with his tongue and started licking her clit with increasingly rapid strokes. She arched her back and made a muffled moan, then took all of his cock deep into her mouth and throat, which stopped her partner in his tracks. After a few seconds during which he experienced new heights of rapture as Kristina’s throat and tongue were compressing his aching cock from all sides, Kristina pulled back and gasped for air, saliva streaming dripping from Julien’s penis down to her chest. Julien used that short respite to reposition himself for a good old-fashioned sixty-nine. Kristina slid down under him and pushed his thighs further apart so that Julien’s balls were inches from her face, then started licking them and playing with them, taking one then the other in her mouth and teasing them with her tongue. Julien was also busy licking her clit while massaging the inside of her vagina with a couple of fingers.
Kristina wanted more of his hard cock in her mouth and she slapped his ass, pushing him sideways so that he would end up lying on his back and under her. Once they had switched, he resumed his licking and massaging while she took full advantage of her new position to explore the whole length of Julien’s cock with her mouth, circling the head, licking up and down the shaft using her tongue or lips, then swallowing the whole of it and closing her throat around its end. The latter was especially gratifying for Kristina as Julien would pause his own activity and acknowledge the effect it had on him with groans of pleasure. The third time she did it, he threw his head back and stated moving his hips up and down, fucking her mouth, moaning. Kristina’s saliva was flowing freely all over Julien throbbing penis, and she would choke a bit when Julien pushed harder and far up into her throat. As if he had thought better of it, he stopped and decided to take the lead again. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he pulled her pelvis down so as to use his whole mouth on her pussy. He was now practically munching on her labia, pulling on them with his own lips and, gently, his teeth. He even pushed the tip of his tongue in her anus for a few seconds, and she thought she might have an orgasm right then, but he changed his mind, possibly, Kristina thought, because he hadn’t asked her whether she enjoyed that kind of activity. Which was curious because her body’s response to Julien’s oral attack was to let go and only feel, so as to make her almost incapable of rational thought. She was in a trance, her body writhing under the constant stimulation of her clitoris. Then the wave rising inside her waned, Julien had stopped.
Kristina felt Julien’s strong hands moving her to his side. She was now on her back, and he was kneeling on the bed between her legs, stroking his cock. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered with intensity, yet almost shyly. She smiled and, without a word, opened her fully extended legs, petting her pussy as if to say: “All yours, big boy!” Julien reached for a drawer of the nightstand and pulled a wrapped condom, but before he could rip open the small pouch, Kristina stopped his hand and just shook her head, which Julien acknowledged with a slight tilt of his head before dropping the condom back in the drawer. Without a word, he moved in closer so he could rub the head of his cock on Kristina’s dripping pussy and, when he felt it was sufficiently lubricated, entered her with a powerful thrust. He started slow, but soon accelerated the pace, plowing deeper into her and subjecting her to an increasingly strong jolt each time his groin met hers. Kristina closed her eyes, her mouth was open, her hands were clutching the sheets, and she was letting out an almost continuous moan. Placing his hands on both sides of her body, Julien went into a plank position and resumed his thrusting motion at a slower pace. He could feel Kristina’s vagina squeezing his cock, almost sucking him in; the sensation was extraordinary, something he had never experienced before. Settling back on his knees, he propped up Kristina’s midsection on a pillow and re-entered her forcefully, making her gasp, then accelerated his thrusting motion to a dizzying pace. Kristina was getting louder, her body was quivering more uncontrollably, her breasts bouncing wildly with each jolt Julien sent through her pelvis. She came hard, crying out, her whole body convulsing in the throes of an intense orgasm. Julien, feeling himself getting close, tried to continue his frenetic fucking, but Kristina, pushing with her hands against his lower belly, stopped him: “No, not yet,” she whispered. Julien let himself flop on top of her, his throbbing cock still in her pussy. They rested for a few seconds, catching their breath, then kissed deeply, Julien fondling Kristina’s breasts while she squeezed and massaged his butt cheeks.
“Doggy?” Julien whispered. Kristina read his mind and managed to rotate her body without letting Julien’s penis slide out of her vagina. She spread her knees a bit wider so that her pussy might be at just the right level for Julien to resume his penetrating motions, which he soon did after grabbing a hold of her hips. He was varying the pace, from a slow in-and-out motion while leaning on Kristina’s back and massaging her breasts, to a furious pounding that made his balls slap against her clitoris and a new wave of rapture swell inside her. She came a second time, whimpering while her body shook, and let herself collapse on the bed. Julien followed the motion of her body and fell on the bed right against her backside, his cock remaining hard inside her. He let Kristina recover for a few more seconds, then slowly resumed fucking her, propping one of her legs up with his hand to give himself more open access to her pussy. Kristina, feeling at once satisfied and exhausted, seemed content to let herself be manhandled by Julien who was now thinking of himself and working hard on reaching his reward. Not quite comfortable with his position, Julien got on his knees, spread Kristina’s legs wide open, and entered her again from the front. The motion of his pelvis intensified, he was thrusting himself inside Kristina as hard and as fast as was humanly possible. Soon, he felt the surge of pleasure within him until, holding on firmly to Kristina’s hips and grunting loudly, he pushed his pelvis forward one last time, reaching deep inside her with his pulsating cock and shooting warm semen up her vagina.
Julien collapsed on top on Kristina, both lovers remaining motionless except for their heavy breathing which they were both trying to bring under control. Julien’s cock was getting softer but was still inside Kristina. She gave him a side push and he obliged by rolling over on his back. They remained side by side for a few minutes, without exchanging a word, but smiling at each other. Sitting up, Kristina smiled naughtily, then leaned over and took Julien softened member into her mouth, cleaning all the mixture of his semen and her juices still on and inside it. To Julien’s delight, she continued sucking on his penis for a while, until it began firming up all anew. She grabbed the revived penis and began stroking it while still licking and sucking its head. “Oh my god…,” finally said Julien in disbelief. He was erect again, and Kristina did not wait much longer before straddling him facing his feet and inserting the hardened penis into her wet pussy. Julien was riveted by the sight of her pelvis in motion, of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy and stretching her labia. He put both hands on her butt to follow its back-and-forth motion, eyes fixed on the piston-like action, listening to Kristina’s wild—bordering on savage—wails. Being fucked in this manner by Kristina was unlike any experience Julien had known before. They came almost at the same time, Kristina beating Julien to the finish line—though the spasms that shook Kristina’s body were what brought Julien over the edge. This time, Kristina fell backwards on top of Julien. He threw his strong arms around her torso and, still inside her, hugged her tightly, then cupped her breasts with his slightly rough palms.
They remained in that position for several minutes, each one processing emotionally the experience for themselves as well as physically recuperating from it. Out of the blue, Kristina asked: “Julien, how old are you?” He laughed: “That’s a rather odd question at this particular moment… not to mention a bit personal, no?” “No, no, seriously,” she insisted,” tell me your age.” “I’m too old for you, ok?” “Come on, Julien, just tell me!” Julien paused a little for emphasis, and said with a smile: “I’m fifty-six.” Kristina sat up: “No way!!” She made an odd sort of sigh, staring at him. “Man, I wish I had known you when you were twenty-six!” Julien looked taken aback. “No, no, mon amour,” she said, planting a loud kiss on his cheek, “I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant to say is that you are so… energetic at your age, I would have liked to see how you were when you were younger.” She wasn’t quite satisfied with the way she had tried to express herself, and added: “I mean, you are so wild…” “Well, thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied with an amused look on his face. “Of course, it’s a compliment!” She straddled him and pinned him down in a bit of mock-wrestling, and they both laughed. Suddenly more serious, Julien threw her off to the side: “Oh man, I completely forgot about the time.” He grabbed his watch on the nightstand. “We have reservations!” “Reservations?” “Yeah, at Chez Mireille, at 5pm. In fact, I’m starving… aren’t you? I’m not in the habit of skipping lunch!” Kristina smiled naughtily: “It was for a good cause!” “Indeed!” said Julien, giving her a slap on the behind. “Well, who’s getting personal now?” They laughed de concert again.
“It’s not far, we have plenty of time to get… presentable,” said Julien, “I’ll let you have the bathroom first.” Kristina got up from the bed and pirouetted au naturel: “I was thinking of going just like this.” “It’s not that kind of a place… Besides, she’s a long-time friend, we’ll have to be on our best behavior. But her food… mmm… you’ll think you are making love again,” he said with a chuckle. “Twice in one day? I’m not sure I’m capable.” More laughter ensued, until Julien pushed Kristina in the direction of the bathroom: “Well, then, I’m afraid you’ll have to wash your back all by yourself then!” “I know,” she said with pouting lips, then taking Julien’s cock in one hand: “I don’t think we should wake up the beast again.” “You’re so bad!” said Julien turning her around and pushing her past the doorway, “I think I’ll keep you…”
When Kristina emerged from her bedroom and came down the stairs, showered and refreshed, Julien, who had been waiting in the living room, couldn’t help himself, expressing his wonderment and approval with a breathy whistle. She was resplendent, in a lowcut and very short sundress which revealed enough of her anatomy to flirt with indecency. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and Julien wondered if maybe she hadn’t bothered with panties either. Kristina stopped a couple of steps up and struck a flirty pose: “Will this do?” she asked, obviously disingenuous. “I think you’re going to start a riot,” Julien laughed, “but we have to go now or we’ll be late. And trust me, you don’t want to be late for dinner at Mireille’s.”
It was an enchanting late afternoon and evening, a perfect match for what had transpired earlier in the day. Drinks on Mireille’s famous terrace, until they were done enjoying the beautiful sunset over the lower hills of the pre-Alps, then dinner in the old building’s large dining room, where not one single chair was empty. And what a dinner! Kristina thought back on what Julien had said earlier, something along the lines of Mireille’s food making love to your mouth. It was actually simple, local food, nothing like nouvelle cuisine, but the flavors were out of this world. And the Gigondas, from just down the road, which Julien had ***********ed on the wine list, was as good a pairing as one might have hoped for. Kristina would take bites of food and utter “mmm” approvingly, sometimes her hand reaching under the tablecloth to rest on Julien’s thigh—and now and again, she was definitely aiming for something else. On one occasion, Julien caught her hand, but she grabbed his and pulled it into her own lap, which gave Julien the opportunity to answer his earlier question: Kristina was not wearing panties. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in his ear, “I’ll be very careful not to offend our host.” Towards the end of the meal, Mireille herself appeared from the kitchen, drawing applause, and made her way to Julien and Kristina’s table, stopping a few times to greet other regulars. She was a formidable looking woman, not just imposing physically, but you got the impression that she could split logs for the wood oven just by looking at them. Julien got up from his chair and Mireille grabbed him around the shoulders and lifted him like he was a child’s doll, landing several pecks on Julien’s cheeks in typical French style. Mireille turned to Kristina: “So, you’re the girl from America?” she said with a heavy Jacques-Cousteau-like accent. “You’re very pretty… Julien, you have a good eye. But she’s too thin!... You have to bring her here often so we can feed her properly.” Her massive bosom shook as she laughed boomingly. And then she was gone.
As the 2 CV struggled along on the hilly road home, Kristina rested her head on Julien’s shoulder and, to her delight, he rested his hand on her thigh and began caressing it gently. She pulled her dress up and opened her legs, but he didn’t need much prompting this time. His fingers were soon brushing against her mound, reaching between the seat cover and her groin to feel her pussy, part her lips and penetrate her. She arched her back and moaned: “Oh yes…. I wanted you to do that this morning, in the car…” One of Julien’s fingers was massaging the inside of her vagina and hitting her G-spot randomly. Kristina howled, and scooted in her seat to tilt her pelvis and give Julien a better angle. He started alternating the massage with thrusting two fingers inside her vagina, already drenched with juices. Perhaps also thinking that driving with only one hand on mountain roads might not be the safest, Julien had slowed the car down considerably, when he spotted a place where to park on the side of the road. The engine still running, he got out of the car, came over to Kristina’s door and pulled her out of the vehicle. Without a word, he made her face the side of the car and rest her hands on it, as if he was about to frisk her, quickly dropped his pants and underwear, lifted her short dress and spread her legs, then took her from behind, fucking her hungrily. Already highly stimulated by Julien’s massage, Kristina came very quickly, but she let Julien continue his forceful invasion of her pussy for a couple more minutes, until he said with a tremor in his voice: “I’m gonna cum…” She hastily pushed him back, turned around and put one knee down on the grass, swallowing Julien’s throbbing cock as he roared his pleasure, and being rewarded with just a few drops of semen this time.
They were getting close to the house when Julien broke the silence: “At this rate, I’m not sure I’m going to survive the week.” Kristina couldn’t tell if he was just joking around, or was actually a bit worried that she would suck him dry like a loving vampire. She now could make out a reassuring smile on his face, and she replied: “You’re the one who’s going to need more of Mireille’s cooking!” The sound of laughter filled the car, coming out the open windows and dissipating into the starry night. Once at the house, Julien climbed the stairs with Kristina right behind him. They reached the end of the corridor and Julien pushed his bedroom door open, standing aside and motioning for Kristina to go in. She hesitated. “You don’t really need a separate bedroom, do you?” “That’s true,” she replied stepping inside. “Very important question: which side of the bed?” asked Julien, looking serious. “I sleep in the middle, sorry,” Kristina replied with a wink. “We’ll get your things tomorrow… unless you need something now?” “No… I sleep like this!” Kristina had already taken off her sundress and kicked away her sandals. She executed a perfect pirouette and let herself fall backwards in the center of the bed. Julien undressed quickly, turned the light off, and joined her. The moon was shining through the shutters. The temperature had dropped considerably, and Kristina reached for Julien’s body and the warmth of his embrace. They soon drifted to sleep.
