It’s been a month since my special spa. A month without him. Him, who unlocked my body, my senses. We meet halfway. I spent the weekend at the capital’s winter sports fair. He’s on a site near my brother Alain’s, mid-divorce, deep in depression. Alibi perfect: I’m visiting my depressed brother. First time outside our libertine haven. Apprehension grips me. In that bubble, no guilt. Safe. But alone with him? Will the fire still rage?
We park. I step out. There he is, waiting. My pulse races. He smiles. Parasites flee my mind. Pure flesh ahead. He closes in. Claims my mouth. Imperious kiss. His scent intoxicates. Passion floods back. I’m home in his arms. He leads me to his friend’s cottage—her paradise vacation home. Straight to the bedroom. Hands devour my skin. Lips seize mine, tongues tangle. My pussy throbs. Clothes? We’re always naked there. Not now. Seconds later, bare. Naked hunger.
The Fever
Condom on. One thrust. He slams deep. Month’s void explodes. Hearts hammer. Skin burns. We shatter together. Orgasms crash like waves.
Shower after. Caressing suds. I dress femme fatale: tight dress, slutty lingerie. Makeup sharp. Ready for adulterous night one. Intimate restaurant alcove. His hand creeps up my thigh. Vegetarians? We order beef tartare. Fuel for the night. His surprise awaits. We devour food fast. Talk kids, raw truths we hide from others. No taboos.
Club next. Ultra-private. No sign. Buzzer. Vestiaire. Dress gone. Tiny pareo hides nothing. Jacuzzi. Couples lounge. ‘Eyes closed,’ he says. Trust absolute. His hands roam greedy. Desire builds. Belly ignites. Lips silence my moans. Unknown hands slide up thighs. His eyes ask. Safe in his hold, I nod. Fingers invade my wetness. Pleasure surges. Hips buck. He offers his swollen cock. I suck hungrily. His groans fuel me. Climax rips through.
The Blaze
He pulls out. ‘Tonight’s for you.’ Bar. Chat barmaid, young métis hunk. Salon couple key. Empty. No matter. Play. Finger teases my slick ass. Gentle entry. Builds pleasure, denies release. Back to bar. Métis still there. ‘Like him?’ Forties, built, sweet smile. Yes. Whisper. Their eyes devour me. Small salon. No fear. He knows limits.
They lay me down. Caress. Only he fucks me—that’s the deal. Grip métis cock. Power surges. Desired. Beautiful. He slides in soft. Fills me. Pussy clenches. Métis rubs clit. Crave his cock. Pull to mouth. Tongue swirls, then deep throat. Both growl. I’m goddess. He masters me—edging, perfect notes. Orgasm devastates. World dissolves. Hands soothe tremors. Métis denied, but thrilled by my first threesome.
Drive back. I crave his cum. He says buildup equals peak. Path over goal. Cottage. Shower mutual. Clean deep. Bed. Skin to skin. First sleepover. Need his heat. Two hours fractured by fucks. Two orgasms. End with blowjob breakfast. His nectar sweetest ever. Youth never matched this frenzy.
Coffee. Gulp kiss. Road home. Codes set. Discreet calls. Brother lunch—depression focus. Drive. Malaise hits. I’m an adulteress. Nausea. Guilt stabs. Park. Phone rings. Him. Pour it out. He calms. Offers break. No. Need him. Oxygen. Conscience? Fuck off. Life fragments: mountains, work, wife-mom. Till next blaze.