Foreign Affairs

by Antonia Adams

  He gasped and uttered ‘Merde,’ his ass shuddering as I salivated on his cock, compelling me to imagine that I was devouring the energies of Paris while inhaling his shaft, consuming the filthy essence of the City of Light. My tongue sensed the powerful, sanguine pulse of the parisien as I returned to his trembling head and wrapped it in my tongue. But I felt that I could not sustain the motion; an overwhelming sensation, a relentless craving shuddered through my pussy, assaulting my nipples and throat.

  ‘Another request, ami.’

  ‘Quoi?’

  ‘I want to feel that lovely cock slide into my pussy. Baise-moi!’ Spreading my legs, I observed the shadow of a wayward cat flicker against the wall and playfully uttered, ‘Meow,’ as I sensed the first thrilling contact of his cock, the head grazing my engorged clit as my ass convulsed in pleasure, puckering ecstatically as his shaft made its rousing entrance into my pussy. I’d always loved the first moment of penetration, the instant when all the niceties of foreplay are done and an energetic fuck can finally commence. But as the distant cat yawned and twitched its tail, I could feel that only the minutest length of his cock had begun its sublime journey inwards. Wrinkling my brow in impish protest, I whispered, ‘Mmm, let’s have a little more, shall we?’

  ‘C’est bon?’ I could hear him panting urgently and he thrust to a slightly greater depth, unleashing a delicate, sloppy sound as his shaft caressed my sodden clit.

  ‘Shit. Slide it all the way in, homme.’ Following my command, he dutifully thrust his hips and ass forward and penetrated me to his full length. I could sense his swollen head probing inquisitively, releasing a deluge of stimuli, my nipples engorging as he grabbed them ferociously. ‘Well, well … your cock fits me perfectly.’

  ‘Mon dieu,’ he muttered, aspirating, arching his head backward, exhaling ferociously.

  ‘Mon dieu is right …’ I can tell you’re fucking turned on.’ He paused as I felt his cock convulse rapidly inside my pussy, already nearing orgasm as he whispered imperceptibly in French, closing his eyes as he licked my ear, as if to avert an impending detonation. ‘Every stroke feels like you’re about to explode inside me.’ I could feel his erect nipples unite with my own engorged tits, and as he resumed his thrusts, I watched the shaft as it entered into my pussy, relishing the vision of his pulsating cock disappearing into the trim hair of my cunt. I closed my eyes as he fucked me, imagining a virile and intrepid presence, a Victor Hugo character come to life, a filthy Jean Val Jean of the boudoir.

  ‘Oh, shit.’ Abruptly, my pussy contracted forcefully as the frottage of his shaft against my clit intensified. ‘Your cock is making me come. Damn … damn …’ My unfinished story, my failed literary endeavor, flickered again into life as I thrust my hips upwards to enhance the pressure of his cock against my pussy, my body contracting and trembling as I propelled myself roughly against him, complementing the angular friction of his body, the sensation inundating my mind like a descending wave. In literary cliché, wasn’t an orgasm always described as a wave?

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ I abandoned the polite world of thoughts, phrases and sentences, reflexively collapsing my thighs together as I came, inspiring him to thrust harder and more rapidly, watching his erection as it plumbed my contracting pussy, transfixed by its insistent motion, yielding to the gratification of his anonymous cock. I imagined a hallowed state of complete vulnerability and exposure; his head, still engorged, invaded the full interior of my sodden cunt as the shutters of the room moved in the wind, as if they were connected sympathetically to the trembling movement of the bed. I could hear a delirious, rhythmic soggy sound, the delectable, accelerating friction of flesh striking flesh.

  I saw the dim lights of apartments outside and wondered how many in the expanse of nocturnal Paris were fucking. Were any fortunate parisiennes savouring a hard cock with my same sense of renewal and discovery? But then my thoughts were interrupted by the deliciously dirty sight of the artist’s glistening, convulsing ass, reflected in a mirror, propelling itself into me, tensing and relaxing in a ferocious cadence, perspiring frantically – the whole vision excited me, making my clit swell further as I constricted my legs around his back.

  ‘Damn I love your cock … your cock in my pussy … your fucking French cock.’ I muttered dirty banalities, imagining that I had prepared years for this event, my life’s disappointments finally allowing me to consummate a vigorous fuck in confidence. And as he inserted the full length of cock into me, I reached downward to caress his contracting scrotum as he thrust forward, relishing the contours of his balls and the exclusivity of its shape, the small variations that distinguished it from my few conquests of the past. Small rivulets of moisture descended my thighs and ass as I thrust upwards to meet him.

  ‘Keep fucking my pussy. N’arrêtez pas!’ First biting his neck in affection, I proceeded downwards, sucking his nipples, drawing the hardened teats fully into my mouth, looking into the exposed purity of his eyes as he fucked me in hard ripostes, his face radiating a feral benevolence in the midst of the feverish moment.

  ‘Damn. Qui c’est? Who are you?’ He glanced away and I realized I didn’t know him, but he embodied real life, a carnal world outside writing and abstract thought, an image of action and impulse. As we fucked, I surrendered to pure fancy, savouring the delicious friction inside me, grinding my hips against him, my clit responding to the insistent movement, a crescendo stirring as he cried out and withdrew, his entire shaft quivering.

  ‘I want to see you shoot your load – it fucking turns me on to watch a man come. Let’s see the payoff of your labours, mon homme!’ As if in response to my utterance, I witnessed a surge of moonlight cascading through the shutters as a magnificent arc of spunk erupted from his trembling cock; he jacked off to hasten his climax, buckling forward to match the force of his orgasm, a warm spray of semen travelling in a sloppy crescent as his load crossed my nipples, tracing my midriff to my clit, still distended and aroused. I placed my index finger inside my pussy, still soaking, caressing myself until another violent upsurge returned, the climactic tremor engulfing my torso as I maniacally clutched the sheets.

  ‘Let me sample that come, chéri. It looks fabulous.’ I leaned downwards, extending my tongue, tasting the fine rivulet of spunk that lingered on the head of his cock, gently absorbing a droplet into my mouth as I closed my eyes. A new, ineffable sensation had arrived, my inhibitions evaporating, my writer’s block escaping to the window and ascending to the sky beyond the Place Vendôme.

  I looked towards his sketch, deposited on the floor, my startlingly detailed and nude figure appearing as a network of ecstatic lines. In the drawing my eyes lay closed, an image of serene meditation. Outside the window, I could see the three colours of the French flag illuminated and flapping in the breeze, evoking the motto of my new home: Liberté, égalité, fraternité …the timeless values of liberty, equality and fraternity.

  I leaned back, watching his cock as it regained its quivering erect state, filling with ardent new blood. I imagined a flag unfurling in my honor.

  À la liberté!

  Après-Ski Adventure by Peter Baltensperger

  When Ursula asked Anthony if he would like to see her exercise room, he naturally pictured a small home gym with the usual equipment of the kind many people have. He wasn’t one for exercise equipment and gyms himself, so the idea didn’t excite him to any great extent. Yet it was obviously the invitation he had been looking for, especially as he had been fantasising about her ever since he saw her the first time.

  Little did he know that her idea of exercise was completely different from his and that he was much closer to fulfilling his fantasy than he realized. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined her in connection with the kind of sex she was about to introduce to him.

  Anthony was vacationing in one of the luxurious ski resorts in the Swiss Alps for a couple of weeks, and Ursula was one of the receptionists in the alpine hotel where he was staying. She was a beautiful young wo
man with an amicable smile, an engaging personality, and a tantalizing body. Her attire was always very chic with skin-tight pants and revealing tops accentuating her full breasts. Her auburn hair was tastefully streaked and fell in soft waves down to her shoulders. She was a true woman of the mountains he admired so much, firmly rooted in her environment yet also enigmatic and alluring. And she always found time to chat with him when he passed through the lobby.

  After three days of gorgeous weather and excellent skiing, a storm front moved through the mountains and pretty much closed all the slopes. In the afternoon, after spending the morning in his room reading, Anthony went down to the lobby to find something to do. He was very pleased to find Ursula sitting behind the front desk, so he went up to her and they started chatting. Her replacement arrived at the end of her shift and she started packing up her things. Anthony decided it was time to do something.

  ‘Could I interest you in going out for supper with me?’ he asked, wondering how seriously she had been taking their casual encounters in the lobby.

  ‘I would like that very much,’ Ursula agreed with a big smile on her face.

  They went to one of the elegant restaurants on the main strip of the town next to the hotel and had one of those incredible dinners the Swiss know so well how to prepare and serve. They ordered the house specialty of the restaurant’s famous and absolutely delicious potato rosti covered with a generous amount of tender veal strips in a delectable wine and cream sauce. Anthony ordered a plate of escargots in herbal butter and a bottle of Riesling from the Valais wine-growing region and they resumed their pleasant conversation until their dinner arrived. It was then that she asked him if he would like to see her exercise room, and of course he readily agreed.

  Once they completed their dinner with an excellent cup of coffee and some delicious pastry, they braved the weather outside and hurried through the thickly falling snow and the bitter wind, laughing as they braced themselves against the driving storm. Ursula lived in a pretty little chalet on the outskirts of town overlooking one of the slopes, a small treasure in a blistering day. They brushed the snow off each other on the porch and took off their boots on the dry mat in front of the door. Then she took him into her cozy home, her face flushed from their brisk walk, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement.

  ‘Downstairs,’ she said. ‘Come, I’ll show you.’

  She took his hand and led him down the stairs where she opened a door and flicked on the light. The room was bathed in a soft glow from some invisible sources and he peered inside. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There were no exercise machines or weights or anything like that. Instead, one wall was equipped with metal rings and leather straps. The wall across the room was completely covered in mirror tiles making the room look twice as large and reflecting everything inside. One of the short walls was full of shelves with all kinds of leather gadgets and implements neatly arranged. A large wooden table with a padded top stood near the fourth wall, leather straps hanging from the top all around.

  ‘Well,’ Ursula said. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Interesting,’ was all he could say. He didn’t know what to think. The whole thing was so totally unexpected and seemed to be so completely out of character for her, yet there they were, in a complete dungeon all her own. He had never seen anything like it in his life.

  Ursula laughed, gleefully. ‘You don’t sound very convinced. Just come in. You’ll get used to it in no time.’

  ‘Do you use this often?’ Anthony wanted to know.

  ‘Quite regularly,’ Ursula said lightly. ‘Mostly on weekends. I have some friends.’

  She shut the door and started to take off her clothes. He could only stare at her as she quickly uncovered her body, completely at ease with herself. She was even more beautiful naked, with a slender, well-proportioned body and deliciously firm breasts topped with big, light brown nipples. She had long, shapely legs crowned by a carefully trimmed dark triangle, and a tight little behind. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She knew very well he couldn’t, but she just laughed again, teasingly this time. ‘Come on,’ she chuckled. ‘Stop staring and take off your clothes already!’

  He tore himself from his reverie and began to undress, still staring at her in wonder and admiration. She was staring at him just as much as he was staring at her, although she probably wouldn’t have admitted it. Her face was serious as she watched him take off his clothes, but her eyes kept sparkling delightedly. By the time he pulled down his briefs, his penis was erect and hard from seeing her naked like that. Everything was so much better than any of his fantasies.

  She chuckled again, took a step towards him, and reached for his penis, tugging at it a couple of times and smiling her bewitching smile. ‘I see you’re ready,’ she said. ‘That’s good, and I’m glad. So let’s get started, shall we?’

  He just wanted to grab her breasts and put her down on the carpeted floor right there and then. She was so hot and tempting in her sleek nudity; he ached to have her wrapped in his arms and feel all that beauty against his body, but she obviously had other plans.

  To his utter disappointment, she took him by the hand again and led him through the room to the wooden table. ‘Lie down,’ she directed him.

  ‘Really?’ he asked. ‘On here?’ He wasn’t at all sure where this was going to lead and just what exactly she had in mind. All he knew was that she was incredibly sexy and he was alone with her in her chalet.

  ‘Yes, really,’ she said.

  Somewhat reluctantly but also rather curious and strangely excited and aroused by her commanding demeanor, he climbed up on the table and stretched out. The padding was very comfortable, making him feel somewhat more at ease.

  ‘Now what?’ he asked expectantly yet also dreading what she was going to say.

  ‘Now I’ll tie you up,’ she said, lightly but firmly, her pretty smile spreading across her face.

  ‘You’re kidding!’ he burst out. His whole body tensed. He could feel his jaw tightening, his arms and legs stiffening on the padded surface. What was he getting himself into?

  She obviously sensed his unease, for she put her soft hands on his chest and started to rub him lightly, gently. ‘Just relax,’ she said quietly in her melodious voice, her words soothing, very calm. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said, still wondering what this whole evening was all about.

  ‘Promise,’ she said. ‘Just lie still and let me do this. Please?’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ he concurred. ‘Just tell me what you’re going to do before you do it so I can prepare myself.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘I’m going to strap you to the table with the leather straps. If you lie still, you won’t feel a thing. Just don’t make any sudden movements.’

  With that, she reached for one of the straps fastened to the side of the table and tied it around his wrist to secure his arm, then another one around his ankle to put his leg in place. She walked around the table and tied his other wrist and ankle. He flexed his arms and legs only to find that he couldn’t move them, although the straps didn’t hurt, just as she had said.

  ‘Don’t move,’ she warned him, rather unnecessarily. ‘You’ll only hurt yourself.’

  She placed a long leather strap across his chest, another one across his hips, and a third across his thighs. Then she walked back over to the other side and tied up the three straps expertly against the opposite edge of the table. He couldn’t move at all any more. He almost panicked. He had never been immobilized like that by anyone. A fly at the mercy of a spider? He shuddered.

  ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ he gasped. ‘This is getting rather scary, you know.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, still very quietly, soothingly, very sure of herself in everything she did and said. ‘If you really don’t like this or you get too scared, just tell me and I’ll untie you right away. But I would really like it if you’d let me do this, all right
? We’ll get to the good stuff in a minute.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ he muttered. He didn’t want to look like a coward. Besides, it was very arousing, he had to admit, seeing her move around him in her nakedness and doing things to him while he could just lie there and watch her beautiful body float around the table. His penis was twitching quite lustily by then, so he decided to wait and see what other things she was planning to do.

  Just as he was wondering about the next step in the unusual procedure, Ursula walked across the room to the shelves and came walking back with a cat o’ nine tails in her hand. Anthony couldn’t believe his eyes. This was definitely going too far.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ he exclaimed. ‘I really don’t want to do this any more.’

  ‘Please?’ Ursula said. ‘I told you I won’t hurt you. Just let me start and you’ll see how good it feels.’

  Anthony gave up. She was obviously determined and there didn’t seem to be any stopping her. He tried to relax, but his body refused. He felt stiff as a board on the table. His teeth were grinding a mile a minute and his fists were clenched so tightly he was digging his fingernails into his palms. Why was he letting her do this to him? She was a beautiful creature with beautiful breasts and he had been fantasizing about her, that was why. He couldn’t help himself. He was completely under her spell.

  Then he felt the leather strands of the cat on his body and she was moving them around slowly, over his chest and his belly, again and again, and he finally found himself able to relax. It did feel wonderful, being stroked like that, very sensuous and arousing. He looked up at her and she smiled, contentedly.