His Muse

by Twyla Turner

  “Oh! Etienne! Oh my God! I’m coming. I’m coming!” I gasp in surprise before my body seizes.

  He continues to lightly stroke my clit and whispers French in my ear. My body shakes uncontrollably as my orgasm radiates over me.

  The times I’ve brought myself to an orgasm, I usually feel weak or tired. Not this time. I feel energized. I’m so ready for more, and my new lover has every intention of giving me what I want.

  “C'est le numéro un,” he states confidently. That’s number one.

  His hand slips from inside my panties, and he walks around to stand in front of me. I’d normally feel compelled to cover my naked body in front of roaming eyes, but this time I don’t. The way he’s looking at me leaves no room for interpretation. It is plain as day that he desires what he sees.

  It also doesn’t hurt as I watch him taste the two fingers that brought me to orgasm. My knees nearly buckle at the sight.

  “I want to see you,” I say as I reach for his jacket.

  Etienne nods. He stands still as I lay my hands on his chest. I slide them up to his shoulders, underneath his suit jacket and begin to push it off his shoulders and down his arms. The jacket falls to the floor. Once his arms are free, he reaches back to grab the neck of his t-shirt and begins to pull it up and over his head. His upper body is magnificent. Like Michelangelo’s David. His chest, abs, and arms are chiseled and defined like marble, but not overly so. His chest is smooth and bare of hair, but there is one dark line of hair traveling between his six-pack abs, leading down to his most intimate place. His happy trail. I’m curious to see where it leads and how happy I’ll be when I get there.

  I step closer to him. My lips find the spot on his chest above where his heart pounds quickly, and I kiss him lightly there. His breath explodes softly from his lips as if he had been holding it and his body quivers.

  “Ah, Sweet Taryn,” he groans.

  I look up at him. My silent gesture must have touched him because his face is alight with a new kind of adoration. He rests his forehead against mine, as he squeezes his eyes shut.

  “Pourquoi ai-je le sentiment que vous allez être si facile à aimer?” Why do I feel that you will be so easy to love?

  I don’t answer. I can’t. I understand exactly what he said, and for that reason, my throat has become thick around the knot that is lodged there. Instead, I focus on undoing his belt and jeans.

  He steps out of his boots and pulls off his socks before he helps me push down his pants. Leaving him in just his black boxer briefs. The print of his erection stands out as it presses firmly against the soft fabric. As far as I can tell, it looks impressive.

  My curious fingers reach across the few inches between us. My fingertips trace the outline, and he sucks in air through his teeth. I slip them under the waistband of his briefs and pull it out a few inches from his skin before pulling them down. His cock springs forward. It bounces a few times like a tightly coiled spring before settling to point at me in an inviting upward curve.

  I don’t exactly know what I was expecting. This being my first time with a white man and all. But he is glorious. His length. Long and proud. His girth. About as thick as my wrist, maybe more. Fair-skinned, like him. He’s uncut like I’ve heard most European men are. Thick veins travel up from the trimmed dark hair at the base to an angry purple head peeking through the foreskin. A little pearl of fluid seeps through the tip. All I can think about is tasting him.

  I’m so damn happy that he’s already brought me more pleasure than any man has before him, I gladly sink to my knees in front of him. My tongue touches the sensitive skin under his head and slowly licks up, lapping at the precum that is tempting me. It tastes sweet and tangy like he’d been eating fruit all day. His hips shudder, and he pumps forward. I begin to take him into my mouth, and he pulls away from me with a groan of disappointment.

  I’m lifted and tossed unceremoniously onto his bed. My eyes find his face. The muscles in his jaw work rhythmically.

  “No, Taryn. This is about you. Your pleasure.” He reaches down to clasp my panties. He continues to talk as he pulls them down my legs. “As much as I would love to watch you take my cock between your gorgeous red lips, I promised that you would come multiple times before I come even once. Tonight, you will be selfish. Tonight, you will be worshipped like a queen.”

  He lifts my feet up to his chest and pulls my panties from my ankles. He lifts the lacy fabric to his nose and breathes in deeply. Heat radiates up my chest and neck to my face. The crotch of my panties is saturated with my arousal.

  “You smell spicy and sweet. Just like you. I am sure you will taste sweeter than the most delicious confection.” My thighs instinctively squeeze together, trying to stop the pounding that begins anew in my clit. “You will not get these back. I will keep them for the moments I need inspiration.”

  He tosses my panties to the side and then kisses my foot softly. He releases my legs, letting them down to the mattress. He hums appreciatively as his eyes roam my completely naked body.

  “Bring up your knees, feet flat on the bed.” He directs me.

  I follow his command.

  “Open.”

  I know what he’s asking, but my shyness has reemerged with a vengeance. I can’t help it. It is my most intimate and vulnerable place. I’m not accustomed to letting any ole body see all of me. And in all honesty, no man has ever been interested enough in my lady parts to stop to gaze at it. That alone makes me extra self-conscious.

  “Open for me, Taryn.” Etienne places his hands on my knees. “I will not bite. Well…not hard.”

  He grins at me rakishly. His playfulness is enough to ease my nerves slightly. And I open up for him the way a flower opens for the sun.

  “Mmm…” He hums appreciatively. “There she is. Beautiful.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “That is where you are wrong, Ryn. I would love to paint your pussy.” He crouches between my legs and crawls forward, kissing down my thigh at the same time. “But first I plan to feast on her. My little flower.”

  Again, I’m at a loss for words. My whole body is tense with nervous anticipation as Etienne inches closer. His hair tickles the skin of my thighs, adding to the feel of his soft lips. He reaches the apex of my legs and bypasses my opening. He moves to my mound and kisses me gently there. My hips flinch, pressing down into the mattress at the sensation. He just looks up at me and smiles before continuing. He kisses, nibbles, and licks down the crease of my leg where it meets my labia. He moves to the other side and does the same going up. I’m getting antsy, my need for another release overriding any feelings of modesty I once had. My hands grip the comforter, and my hips start to move restlessly.

  Reading my body language, Etienne nibbles his way to my center. He dips his tongue in my entrance, and I try my damnedest to grind down on it, desperate for more. He flattens his tongue and laps up my cleft to my swollen clit.

  “Aaaah!” I cry out as my back lifts off the bed.

  I prop myself up on my hand, my legs spread further to give him room, and to see better what he’s doing to me. I’ll admit that I’m curious. Daryl wasn’t a fan of cunnilingus and never did it in all the years we’d been together. And the other man I had dated briefly hadn’t been interested in anything other than climbing on top and rolling off two minutes later. So, a man between my legs of his own volition is a new experience for me.

  “You are so fucking wet,” Etienne says between flicks of his tongue. “Your taste is addicting.”

  He latches onto my clit and hums deeply. The vibrations hit my nerve-endings, and I gasp. My free hand plunges into his hair, holding it back so I can watch him tongue kiss my vulva like it’s my mouth. My hips rock into him rhythmically. I feel that peculiar itch in my clit again, gaining strength. This time it’s stronger than when he fingered me.

  The slick fluid of my arousal and his saliva drip down my crease to my ass. He dips down and gathers my nectar on his tongue and drags it back up to my clit, c
oating it with our natural lubrication. He swirls his tongue around my button. Then he comes back to flick it quickly, before moving back to draw circles around it again.

  I’m lost. My entire being is centered on that one bundle of nerves and his tongue that teases it. My hips begin to move faster. I roll them smoothly towards his tongue, and then they tremble erratically as they roll backward. My fingers tighten in his silky strands. I begin to fuck his face in earnest now. My head falls back, my back arches, and I press his head down onto my pussy. My manhandling him doesn’t even phase Etienne. He seems to like it and get off on it. His tight ass grinds into the mattress, his cock searching for release just as my clit does. He wraps his lips around my clit, his tongue rolls in time to my pumps, and he moans against me.

  “UNH!” I cry as my climax shatters my world.

  As soon as my orgasm crests, he strikes as fast a cobra. He’s on top of me before my delirium has passed. My eyes tightly shut, and my body wracked with tremors, I don’t even realize he is there until his thick erection plunges in deep, stretching me.

  “Numéro deux,” his warm breath caresses my lips. Number two.

  My eyes fly open, and my lips pop apart on a sharp breath at the feel of him deep inside me. He licks my parted lips as he punctuates that first exquisite dip with a hard thrust to the base. My still quivering insides pulse around him. His brows draw together as if in extreme pain or pleasure as he holds completely still.

  “Merde, Taryn!” Shit, Taryn! He groans against my mouth. “So tight. So warm. So deep. You were made for me.”

  I shiver at his words. He pulls me up onto his lap. My legs wrap around him, and my breasts press into his chest. His fingers slide up into my curls at the back of my scalp. They tighten and pull my head back, exposing my neck to his exploring mouth. His other arm bands around my back to help guide me up and down his length. I hold onto his shoulders, my nails biting into the smooth skin there.

  I pant into the open space around us. Etienne’s tongue on my neck makes my clit tingle. His deep thrusts upward make my body quake. The length and curve of his cock hit a sweet spot deep within my passage. He releases his tight hold on my hair, but my head stays back. My eyes closed as the firelight from the candles dance behind my eyelids.

  “Regarde-moi.” Look at me.

  My head slowly rises, and I open my eyes to look at him. The jade of his eyes dances in the soft light. So much love and passion gaze back at me that my breath catches in the back of my throat. I brush back the soft curtain of hair from his handsome face. My lips kiss his softly, our eyes open. I memorize his features as he does the same, wrapped in each other’s arms. The moment is so incredibly intimate that my chest tightens, and breathing is made difficult.

  This. This is what it’s like to make love. I’ve missed this my whole adult life. It took a man several years younger than me to teach me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back.

  A shiver of fear runs down my spine. If this bizarre relationship doesn’t work out, the likelihood of finding another man who can bring me this kind of pleasure and intimacy is doubtful. It took forty-four years for God’s sake.

  “Stop, Ryn. Do not overthink. Feel.”

  He lays me back and hovers over me. Soft kisses pepper my face and his thumbs stroke my cheeks and temples.

  “Mon amour, I am here. I am not going anywhere.” My love…

  He holds my face gently as he kisses me deeply. His tongue dips inside my mouth as his cock strokes deeply. I let my fears go for the moment and let the sensations take over me. My hands reach for his ass, urging him to go deeper and faster.

  “More,” I sigh against his lips.

  He grasps my leg and pulls it up to my chest. His thrusts gain speed, and I squeeze him within my depths. His head drops to my chest, and he swirls his tongue around my nipple, his hair spread across my torso like a waving and curling waterfall of golden silk.

  Etienne alternates shallow strokes and deep plunges. His hips roll fluidly, like a dance. My hips rise up to meet him. The erotic sounds of my flesh welcoming his wetly and our skin connecting fill the room. My moans and cries soon escalate to drown them out.

  His kisses move back up my chest to my jaw towards my ear. His hair drapes over my face as he whispers dirty things in my ear in French. A third climax starts to build deep within my belly. This one is different. One I’ve yet to experience alone or otherwise. The coveted internal orgasm.

  “I’m getting close. Faster, please!”

  He doesn’t hesitate. He lifts both my legs up to my chest. His hands hold them there as he grips the backs of my knees. He positions the head of his cock against my opening, stroking the slick and shiny tip against my clit. He strokes shallowly for a few seconds before he plunges in deep. I gasp but unable to catch my breath before he begins to pound into me ferociously. His ab muscles tighten with every thrust. Just watching his pretty, glistening cock disappear into my depths and his groans of ecstasy are enough to push me over the edge.

  “Etienne!” I half sob, half scream.

  He doesn’t stop. In fact, he goes faster. Sweat beads on his forehead and drips down to splash on my stomach. His entire body shines in the candlelight with perspiration, and his hair clings sexily to his face. My orgasm rolls into another. My body seizes. A scream gets caught in my throat before it breaks free to pierce the ears of anyone and anything within earshot.

  “Fuck!” He shouts as I feel his cock ripple and pulse within me as he finally comes.

  My body is boneless and limp. I shake uncontrollably. I can’t tell if it’s because of the intense pleasure I finally received or the intense emotions that crash over me. I do know that my emotions are bubbling up and taking over me. My tremors turn into sobs. Tears stream down my temples to my ears. I cover my face with my hands as I try to contain myself.

  Etienne lays next to me and pulls me into his arms. As he cradles me, he whispers comforting words in a mix of French and English and strokes my hair and back soothingly.

  “Ryn, mon amour. Speak to me. Tell me what I can do.”

  I bury my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder and shake my head.

  “You can talk to me. I will listen.”

  “T-This has been the most b-beautiful night of my life,” I admit between hiccups. “I’ve m-missed so m-much.”

  “Do not focus on what you have missed. Focused on what you have gained.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for showing me.”

  “You deserve it. And so much more. It has been my pleasure to show you. Your body was made to be worshipped. You only needed a man who was willing to do it.”

  He presses his fingers up against my chin to raise my face up. His incredibly plump lips plant a soft kiss on mine. His thumb wipes away the wet tracks from my face.

  “You definitely accomplished what you set out to do. Four times!” I say in awe.

  “I will continue to collect your orgasms like rare coins.”

  I have no doubt that he will. He is a magnificent lover. Which makes me wonder how and why he’s still single. I have no idea how I or any woman he’s been with would be able to walk away. I’m already a goner.

  I snuggle closer to him and feel that he’s erect again. I whip my head back to look up at him.

  “Again?”

  “I never softened. I was ready again the moment I came.”

  “Oh, wow,” I say in a breathy whisper.

  “You need your rest. Soon.”

  ~~~

  “The minute details of that night are mine to keep for myself. But something has to be said for taking on a young lover. Especially one who knows what he’s doing and isn’t selfish.

  That first night with him was one of the greatest nights of my life as a woman. I’d had greatest days and nights as a mother, a businesswoman, and even a wife. But as a living, breathing, sexual woman, that night was it for me.

  The stamina of a younger man, combined with the raging hormones of a forty-something woman cannot b
e beat. This wonderful, beautiful man, made love to me over and over again that night. Breathing life into a part of me that had been dormant my whole life. To find out three-quarters into my life that I am a sexual, exploratory, and damn near insatiable human being was life-changing.

  I loved sex. And even now, years later, I still do.”

  “Damn,” Kari says to the empty room.

  She presses pause on her phone and collapses back onto the couch, deep in thought. She takes a moment to reflect on her own love life. When she was young, she never thought that she’d be like her mother. And after her one and only trip to France, she fought like hell to never be like her mother.

  Now, twenty-two years later, at the same age that her mother was when she moved to Nice and found that young man, Kari realizes her life almost mirrors her mother’s exactly. The only difference is that she doesn’t have any children.

  When she was younger, Kari had told herself that once she got married, she’d never let her marriage fall apart like her mom did. She now sees that her mom did everything she could to keep her marriage going. It was her dad, who Kari once believed could do no wrong, that destroyed their marriage. Just like Kari’s husband left her because of something she could not control.

  Kari, too, had married a man who was conservative in bed, strangely seeking out a man who was like her father. She knows now that it was because she wanted to find a man similar to her father and be able to keep him and get attention from him unlike she was able to do with her dad. She had a classic case of ‘daddy issues.’

  All of it backfired on her. Mark has left her for someone younger just as her father left her mom for someone younger. And like her mom, she now wants to search for some kind of meaning in her life. To find her own sexual awakening.