“Good,” I said. “That’s exactly what I want tonight. But first he has to work for it.”
“So you’ve made up your mind?”
“Yes, but it’s not going to just be Alice lying down and spreading her legs and Hervé climbing on board and pumping away until he squirts. I had enough of that with Larry.”
We waited for what seemed like a long time for Hervé to return with dessert. Eventually I began to lose my patience. “What’s he doing in there?” I asked Joan.
“I don’t know. Dessert wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.”
“Maybe I went too far, and he’s in there beating off out of frustration.”
Joan laughed. “That would be very un-Hervé like.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, as I stood and stripped my skirt off so I was naked but for my new sexy heels and a string of pearls.
“Why don’t you go in there and tell him I’ve taken over dinner and his dessert is ready. I hopped up on the table and sat naked with my legs spread lasciviously. One foot was propped on a chair back and I was slowly stroking my gleaming wet pussy and occasionally sliding one finger into my cunt.
Joan peeled off her dress and walked naked toward the kitchen, just as Hervé emerged through the swinging door, with three dessert plates balanced on one arm. When he saw me, his eyes widened and he said something in his French-Basque patois that I couldn’t translate, but I took it to mean, “Alice, you look so fucking hot.”
I pulled the finger molesting my cunt out and held it before my mouth while Hervé stared. Then I sucked it into my mouth and slowly removed it, sucking on it as I had Hervé’s cock a little while earlier. “Your dessert is ready Hervé. Do you want it?”
He dropped the three plates he was carrying, they landed with a crash splashing chocolate mouse and shards of crockery across the hardwood floor. As he strode towards me he was releasing his belt and freeing his cock.
Hervé stood before me, his trousers in a puddle around his feet and his cock sticking straight out at me. He had both hands on my tits and was roughly mauling them. I made no effort to stop him. Instead I reached out with both hands and grabbed his cock, pulling it towards me.
“Hervé, you’re such a dirty boy,” I said. I was rubbing his cock against my pussy lips and using my fingers to smear my pussy juice over the head and shaft of this beautiful prick I was playing with.
“Do you want to put this big hard cock in my pussy. Is that what you want Hervé?”
I had his cock positioned so its head was poised just at the gaping mouth to my cunt, touching the opening so he could feel it, but not yet quite inside me.
“Well, Hervé, is that what you want. Do you want to fuck me?”
I felt him thrust with his hips but I pushed his cock upwards denying him the entry he so plainly wanted. I was controlling this and loving every minute of it.
“No Hervé,” I said. “You have to tell me what you want. What is it you want? Do you want to fuck me?” I was stroking his dick now, softly and slowly. I wanted to torture him, but not cause him to erupt.
“Oui.”
“English Hervé. Tell me what you want in English.” I had his prick poised at the mouth of my cunt again. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
He growled something in French and then translated, “You fucking whore, I want to fuck you. You understand that?”
“Can you say ‘please,’ Hervé? Can you say ‘Please, I want to fuck you, Alice’? ”
“Arrgh. You fucking putain.” He was sweating now, his brow dripping on my tits.
“FUCK!” he growled . . . he took a deep breath and said softly, “Please, Alice I want to fuck you . . . putain”.
I ignored the last word in French and pushed myself forward letting the head of his cock slide past my lips into my cunt.
He immediately responded by flexing his hips and ramming it in up to the hilt. I felt it bottom out at the end of my cunt.
“Ayhiiiiiii,” I screamed. Not out of pain, but out of relief. The delay had been torturing me as much as it had Hervé.
Now he was pounding my cunt and muttering a string of obscenities. I lay back and let him have his way. Oh god, I thought. It’s been so long. So long! And it feels so good. So good to have my cunt filled by a warm, live, throbbing cock.
This wasn’t going to last long. I was crying and whining, and Hervé was grunting as he pounded me. I could feel the orgasm I had been wanting for hours rapidly building in me. “Oh Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes. So fucking good. Yes, Hervé, fuck me, fuck me hard. I’ve been a bitch and I deserve it. Fuck me, Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” I stopped to pant. “Fuck me harder, Hervé!”
He had both hands under my butt now holding me aloft as he pounded his cock into me. And I was just teetering on the edge of what felt like a huge orgasm. Then he froze, his cock in me as far as it would go. I felt it swell and then I felt a hot stream of cum blast out of his prick and into my cunt. Then another, and another, and another. With each blast Hervé grunted and flexed his hips trying to drive himself further into me. There may have been more from Hervé. I don’t know, because when I felt the third or fourth stream I lost all control. I stiffened and pushed my hips up into Hervé in my own effort to fill my cunt even deeper as my climax ripped through my body. I screamed and threw my head back and forth my eyes closed and then I guess I briefly passed out. The next thing I knew, Hervé was lying on me, and we were both panting in an effort to recover. I had never been fucked like that.
Eventually Hervé lifted his body off me. When he stood, his still impressively large cocked left my cunt with a pop, followed by a stream of our juices that puddled on the dining room table. He staggered back and sat in a chair, staring at me through bleary eyes. “Alice . . . Alice,” he said. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t express it in English. He mumbled in his patois.
That is when Joan spoke up, “My fucking god! You two are animals. I’ve never seen any thing like that.”
Hervé and I smiled and waved off Joan’s comment. I staggered to my feet and walked over to Hervé, where I curled up on his lap, my head against his chest. “Hervé, you were fantastique,” I whispered.
“And you, Alice, and you too,” he said softly as he wrapped his arms around me.
There was such an emotional release from my climax, I had never felt anything like it before. There were tears running down my cheeks. I looked up at Hervé. When he saw my tears he said, “It’s okay, Alice, we have more chocolate mousse.” Now the source of my tears was laughter. The man was obsessed with his cooking.
Fortunately there was more chocolate mousse in the kitchen. The dining room was destroyed. Somehow Hervé and I in our passion had swept all the dishes and wine glasses off the table. There was food, spilled wine, and broken glass and crockery everywhere. The three of us adjourned to the kitchen, tiptoeing around the crockery and glass shards. Once safely out of the dining room we stood naked at a kitchen counter sharing chocolate mouse from a common mixing bowl and a single large spoon. There was also an excellent bottle of dessert wine, a Chateau d’Yquem sauterne from Bordeaux. We drank from the bottle, passing it among the three of us.
After dessert we moved to Joan and Hervé’s king-size bed, where we painted Joan’s tits with the last of the chocolate mouse and took turns licking it off of her. It was the beginning of a very long night and a great threesome.
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