The Frenchman's Woman

by Lee Taylor

  Seeing her uncertainty, Bai reached out and stroked her cheek.

  “Elena, do not be frightened or embarrassed. Although your shyness is sweet. You are lovely, cherie. And I cannot know for sure, of course, but the next time you see Lei, you might inquire….”

  “Oh no!” Elena was emphatic. “No, no, I don’t think so, Bai. I think this must be a French thing.”

  “Perhaps.” He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged.

  “You think this is what my father likes? Oh, my God!”

  “I guess you could ask him…”

  “My God, Bai!!!”

  “No, you are correct, cherie. This is between you and me.”

  “And, of course, those women that you brought in to ‘prepare’ me.”

  `“Ah, yes, them as well.”

  She put her head down and muttered, “And the whole damned kitchen when Angel sees this…”

  Bai turned to leave making a mighty effort to put a serious look on his face.

  “Bai?”

  “Yes, Elena.”

  “Would you… will you … ask those women to wait for a little while? I…all that talk about, well… about your making love to me and seeing your …arousal. I think I am ‘wet.’ I don’t want them to know that, do you understand?”

  “Ah, cherie. I do not think they would mind. But non, non, it is fine. I understand. You want to be ‘wet’ only for me. Do you think ten minutes will be enough for you to ‘dry’ out?

  Her eyes flashed and a small frown creased her forehead.

  “No, I think seeing you standing there with that dirty little smirk on your face is drying me quite quickly, thank you. You can send them in now.”

  She gave him a shove out the door and with a huff slammed the door behind him.

  Elena heard him laughing loudly as he left the chambers. She looked in the mirror and was not surprised to see how flushed she was. Or that she was smiling.

  ~~

  Chapter 33

  “Elena, dance for me.”

  They were sitting by the fire in front of a colorful array of fruits and vegetables, special pickled shrimps and other seafood in dipping sauces that her grandfather’s Chinese cooks prepared. Bai had requested only food they could eat with their fingers.

  Elena was shy when Bai first said, “Non, non. Let me feed you, mon petite amour,” and proceeded to dip a piece of octopus in a spicy sauce and put it in her mouth.

  “Are you going to feed me all of my dinner, Bai?”

  She was flushed; embarrassed that he was treating her like a child.

  “Yes, I am, cherie,” he said using a linen napkin to wipe off a drop of oil that he spilled on her chin. He dipped his fingers in one of the oily sauces and put them in her mouth. “Suck on my fingers, fillette. Do you like this taste?”

  She blushed and nodded, stunned that the simple act of sucking sauce from his fingers made her nipples tighten.

  “You may feed me as well, cherie. As you must know by now, I am a hungry man.”

  Elena smiled shyly then took a piece of crab, dipped it in a sauce and put it in his mouth.

  “Cherie, I am messy. Will you lick off my lips? So much nicer than using the napkin, oui?”

  When she reached over to lick his lips he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

  “Oh my goodness, Bai. We won’t be able to eat any of this luscious looking food if you keep doing that.”

  “You are correct, cherie. I will make an effort to behave. Now you must drink some of this lovely wine. Did you know that your grandfather and I own vineyards in northern California that are becoming well known? We are mimicking some of the growing techniques I observed as a boy in the Bordeaux region of France. The special soil and sunlight in California adds a spiciness to our reds that is quite different from the heavier wines from France. I think you will like this. At some point—not tonight -- because I said I would behave, I will drizzle this wine all over your pussy and drink it from your puffy lips.”

  Elena gasped. It was obvious there was much to learn from this outrageously sensual man. By the time they finished eating, he had licked spicy sauces from her navel where he had ‘unintentionally’ spilled them, rubbed strawberries around her nipples and sucked off the sweet juice. He had dabbed sauces on her toes and sucked each of them clean, grinning wickedly when she twisted and shrieked at the tickling, outrageously erotic touch.

  Most shocking, he had pressed a row of grapes into her slit. Starting at her clit he dug them out with his teeth. One by one, he bit them in half, pressing one half in her mouth, crunching the other half in his.

  When he seemed to have satisfied his need for food, he poured them each another glass of wine and stretched out by the fire. Resting on one arm, he lit a cigar and leaned back to smoke it, smiling at her appreciatively.

  Elena looked at him lounging by the fire and a rush of desire hit her. God, he was beautiful. His face lit by the glow of the fire was a warm golden color that intensified the amber gold light of his eyes. He was handsome in a refined way, as if an artist was commissioned to draw a man that epitomized what men—fine men, were supposed to look like. But he wasn’t effeminate, not at all. He was simply fine. His tousled thick dark hair framed his chin, accenting his compelling features. His chiseled nose and high cheekbones, his firm jaw were almost perfect. The mix of his Chinese and white features was exotic, intriguing. Only his amber wolf like eyes marred the perfection of his face by adding a subtle hint of danger to his features.

  But it was his body that Elena ogled, enraptured. Because she had seen him naked, she knew that under his clothing he was muscled and strong in a lean sinewy way. His thighs were solid muscle, as were his arms. Watching him fight in the saloon, she saw the power of his wiry frame. Tonight he had on a white silk shirt that was unbuttoned almost to his waist, showing the fine black hairs on his chest that trailed down his flat muscled stomach to his groin. The sight made her pussy clench, mostly because it reminded her of his smell--musky, male. He was wearing the black fitted matador-like pants he often wore that Lei said were the height of men’s fashion in Europe. There were four buttons in the front that she knew from experience could be undone one at a time to torment and tease her. And underneath was his gorgeous cock. Even now he had an erection and she knew before long that it would be bursting out, insisting it be free.

  He saw her looking at him and smiled at her, a soft predatory smile, through half closed eyes. He puffed on his cigar and took a sip of his wine. That was when he asked her to dance for him.

  She was surprised.

  “How did you know I dance?”

  “Ah, cherie, I remember the little girl with the fire hair dancing for us under the stars. You twirled and twirled. The more we applauded, the more you twirled. And when you did, your long beautiful curls showered a curtain of red and gold around you. But your body, cherie, was not like it is now. Then you had skinny legs and arms, no bottom and a flat chest. You were just a little skinny girl with red hair and violet blue eyes who loved to dance.

  “Everyone adored you. The kung fu students, all of us in the Sing Leon when we came with your grandfather, and, of course, your adoring father. You insisted that we each take a turn dancing with you. Do you remember? You called me Missur Bai because you wanted to say Monsieur, but couldn’t pronounce it. Dance with me, Missur Bai, dance with me.”

  “Did you?”

  “Mais oui, naturellement. No one could refuse you, Elena. Then or now.”

  She smiled at the memory. She could feel and hear the haunting insistent strains of the music course over her.

  “Will you dance for me, Elena?”

  She smiled and moved to stand in front of him.

  He rose from the floor to the chair by the fire. His eyes gleamed. His soft smile was seductive, compelling. He took a sip of wine, leaned back in the chair motioning for her to begin.

  She danced shyly at first, slowly swaying her hips from side to side. Her eyes sparkled, the tip of her to
ngue pressed between her full sensuous lips. Reaching up, she loosened her hair. It fell in a fiery gold cascade around her shoulders and down her back. She smiled softly when she heard his breath hiss, knowing how much he loved her hair –especially when it was wild and free. She heard the wailing throbbing sounds of the Spanish guitars and the clicking castanets of the flamenco dancers in her body as much as she had in her ears. The memory moved her and she twirled -- her silken gown skimmed her body and flared at the bottom in a bewitching circle.

  Bai blew out a puff of smoke, then sucked in a ragged breath. The skinny little girl he remembered was now a beautiful woman with long sender legs and lush full hips, with full, firm breasts that swayed as she did. Her ass twitched and turned in time to the imaginary music. As though the drumbeat of flashing castanets drove her hips, she thrust them from side to side, then in lush circles, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. Her arms snaked above her head, her fingers clicking the fantasy castanets. Her body coiled and twisted, becoming a tantalizing, writhing column that took his breath away.

  As her movements became more evocative, Bai shifted in his chair to accommodate his growing erection and took a deep drag off of his cigar blowing the smoke high in the air.

  She slowed her movements, accentuating the twists and thrusts of her hips, the sensuous moves of a woman in heat. She bumped and ground her way in a slow erotic saunter toward him, her hands perched saucily on her hips. Glancing boldly at his erection, she tipped her head back. Slowly, suggestively, she licked her lips, her eyes dancing. He would have laughed, but his breath caught in a low groan as his cock swelled rock hard.

  When she was almost in reach, she lifted the hem of her gown little by little. Pushing her shoulders back, her breasts strained upward, lush pointed mounds. Turning her back to him, she flounced her ass in sensuous circles-- inching her skirt higher and higher until her bare ass twitched wickedly from side to side.

  Just as he reached out to grab her, she twirled to face him. Backing away, she dropped the hem of her gown to the floor. She trailed her fingers slowly, sensuously, up over her thighs, hovering at the “v” between her legs. Pausing a scant moment for effect, she tickled her fingertips across her taut stomach, up to her sumptuous breasts. She fingered the soft under swell of her breasts, running her fingers lightly over and around the ends of her nipples then up to the top of her gown. She inched one strap and then the other off her shoulders. With a quick move, she pushed the top of her gown to her waist, revealing a flash of pink pointed nipples, but then twirled away as the gown settled on her hips. All Bai saw was her naked back while her fingers played with those tantalizing beaded tips and her ass flounced rhythmically from side to side.

  Then he was behind her, replacing her hands with his expert fingers. He tweaked and twisted the tips of her nipples, wringing erotic moans from her lips. She ground her hips back into his waiting groin. Their bodies swayed in unison as if they had been molded together. Strong muscular thighs supported soft firm cheeks. She threw her head back on his shoulder, tossing her hair to the side as his lips sucked and kissed the softest most sensitive places on her shoulders, neck and throat. His hands moved from her breasts to her thighs, capturing her hips up tight to his groin driving his erect shaft up between her legs -- hard against the crack of her ass.

  They swayed, bound together, for several long sweaty moments. Their groans and pants became the music that drove them both. He held her tight against him with one strong arm. Pushing his knees into the back of hers, he folded her forward dropping her to her hands and knees. He pressed her chest and cheek against the floor then lifted her hips and ass high in the air. He slid her gown over her hips and dropped it to the floor and covered her naked body with his. With one hand he unbuttoned his pants, releasing his throbbing cock. It sprang forward between her legs cramming against her pussy lips that were dripping wet and swollen with heat.

  His voice was strangled, ravaged with lust.

  “I will take you like this, now! Oui, ma belle danseuse; ma belle petite pute. Now! Oui, cherie? Oui!”

  Before she could reply, he spread the lips of her vagin, streaming with wet hot cream. In one hard thrust, he entered. She shrieked and pushed her ass back up against him, making the entrance to her sex more available, more open, begging for his invasion. He drove in higher, deeper, his hands jerking her hips up hard against him until his balls were banging against her ass. He exploded. As her orgasm rocked them both with wave after passionate wave, it was hard to tell whose screams were the loudest.

  He took her again and again, and she him. His hands were everywhere. Expert tentacles flicking, teasing, probing, overwhelming her fevered flesh with erotic sensations. Pulling her breasts into his mouth, one in each hand, he worked the tips unmercifully -- first with his fingers and then with his mouth. Twisting, biting and then sucking until her tender tips were long and extended, so sensitive they peaked when he simply blew on them. When she climaxed from that touch alone, her frantic responsiveness astonished them both.

  He used her breasts as if they were another channel to drive his shaft into. Mixing fragrant oils from their abandoned meal, with the juices from her aroused sex, he rubbed the erotic mixture on her chest. He pressed her breasts together in his big cupping hands and rammed his cock up between them, the weeping end of his cockhead lodged in her mouth. When he came in hard pumping spurts he spilled his cum over her breasts and fed it to her from his fingers.

  The folds of her chatte became the setting for a feast. He laid her back on the table with her ass at the edge and pulled up a chair. He spread her legs wide her knees high. With his skillful fingers and wicked tongue he explored her, first along the outer edges of her folds, then deep inside. He praised her beauty, her softness, her pungent erotic smell and her sweet intoxicating taste. Her clit was a destination for his fingers, his tongue and finally his teeth. She came for him again and again, un orgasme après l'autre.

  As promised, he found the tight rosette of her ass first with his fingers and then with his tongue. Spreading her cheeks with his large insistent hands he slipped one finger past the tight outer muscle guarding her hole. Gently but firmly he tested, teased the bundle of sensitive nerve ends ringing the tight pucker. His tongue was in impossible places licking her slit from the hard nub of her clit down the slick folds to the rosebud of her ass. Then his tongue did what she would not have believed. He licked that erotic pucker round and round deeper and deeper until she screamed and shattered, ecstatic once again.

  All throughout the night, the lion roared until at long last he lay beside his woman, spent and finally sated.

  ~~

  Chapter 34

  She woke the next morning knowing that he would be gone. Rolling over to his space, she drank up the smell of his body, nuzzling her face on the pillow where his head had been. She rubbed her hands over her tender nipples, winced, then smiled and flushed at the memory. She could still feel his hands and his mouth. She remembered his hot sticky cum on her chest, the tangy taste when she sucked it from his fingers. Her hands snaked down between her legs. She marveled at all the places he had touched with his lips, his tongue, his fingers, his strong unrelenting hands. God, just days ago she had barely known these places existed. Now her body felt like a treasure trove of erotic hideouts that she and Bai would spend the rest of their lives exploring.

  Reading the note he left on his pillow, she grinned. “Ma belle petite pute. Ce soir, mon amour. B. My beautiful little whore. Tonight, my love. B.”

  That afternoon, the sun and clear blue sky drew her outside. Knowing Bai would not return until after dinner, she went to the barn to check on Zhenqui. She had not been riding since the day before and looked longingly out to the open mesa. She saw two of the Spanish speaking Sing Leon in the courtyard. She understood from their speech that they were going to the base of the canyon to check on signs that the banditos had been there the night before.

  “Hola, Senors.”

  They bowed respect
fully, smiling at her, their appreciation apparent. They spoke for several minutes in Spanish, the two guards clearly charmed by her beauty and knowledge of their native tongue.

  Elena intended to ask Bai last night if she could go riding the next day, but in the midst of their glorious evening, she forgot. Her father and Wan were involved in an intense meeting behind a tightly closed door and she did not want to bother them. Instead, she turned to the two Spaniards and asked if she could go with them to check on the canyon trail.

  “Senors, may I ride with you? I am eager to take Zhenqui out on this beautiful afternoon.”

  “Mr. Bai? It will be acceptable with him, if you come with us?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure it will be fine. I need to have a guard with me if I leave the villa, but I think the two of you can handle me,” she said with a teasing smile.

  The Sing Leon blushed and nodded.

  Elena was delighted. She ran to saddle Zhenqui. In minutes she was in the courtyard, eagerly waiting for Armando and Manuel.

  The air was crisp, the sun was bright. There wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky. It was a glorious day to ride and the three of them galloped across the open fields. They went farther up in the canyons than they first intended, following signs the banditos had indeed been near.

  “What are you looking for, Armando?”

  “Not much, Senora. We know the banditos are in the canyons. Bai has worked out a good relationship with their leaders. They have passage here. We don’t interfere and they don’t. Bai wanted me to get a message to Senor Panches if his band is near, that there might be trouble with the Rongue Ri.”