Chapter 1: The Desert
It was a Monday and Owen was in his studio doing some retouching of photographs he’d taken of the desert. Of course these days retouching meant Photoshop not some subtle skill such as dodging with the enlarger. His phone vibrated in his pocket. But he was busy and it would be something routine, so he didn’t bother to look immediately. In fact he was making himself a sandwich for lunch when he remembered, took out his phone and looked at it.
His heart leapt. “i’ll call this evening. tuffy”.
Tuffy was the name that Tiffany used with her friends. But the world knew her as Tiffany, the face of Disney for years, the woman that every teenage girl aspired to be and every adult man, and many women, aspired to fuck or at least see naked.
Unlike them, Owen had fucked her many times. And before he fucked her he had seen her naked when she had done a photoshoot for him after he had rescued her when her car had broken down in the desert. She wasn’t famous then, in fact she was on her way to her audition with Disney, an unknown actress who had been good enough at singing to have a part in a Broadway musical.
Tuffy had been absorbed into the Hollywood machine and had become Tiffany but she remained close with Owen and liked to escape to his house in the desert every so often to escape the life of stardom, paparazzi, agents and revert to the simpler life when she could go and have a beer in a bar without being recognized.
When Tuffy was in Hollywood or Las Vegas he thought of her as Tiffany. When she was with him she was always Tuffy, the name he had first known her by. He knew that Tiffany dated famous actors, and she admitted she had taken a few of them to bed. Even a superstar’s body has needs. Owen had a smaller pool to fish in, but he too had his share of women, some even became girlfriends for a time, but nothing ever lasted long.
When Tuffy was visiting they were inseparable. They would only leave the house to go into the mountains. Even in a small town in the desert she could hardly just go to a bar or a restaurant before someone would be calling photographers to make a quick buck. They ate at home and during the day they took their pleasures in the mountains hiking with just the two of them, something they both loved. And, of course, during the night they took their pleasures with just the two of them in his bed, another thing they both loved.
Owen’s phone lit up with a number he had never seen before. But it was a 310 area code so he assumed it was Tuffy. She had to change her number regularly to keep one step ahead of the magazines and TV programs.
“Hi,” he said.
“It’s me,” Tuffy said.
“What’s up?”
“Usual Hollywood crap. I need to get away.”
“You know you’re welcome here any time. Just get in your car.”
She laughed. “You already know I don’t even own a car any more. Limos take me everywhere.”
“Rent one then. Or I’ll come and get you.”
“I’m in the mood for somewhere different.”
“How about Montréal?”
“Montréal? Why Montréal?”
“I won a photo competition. There is an award ceremony in two weekends’ time. I wasn’t going to go, you know I hate that kind of thing. But if you want, we can go. The magazine is picking up all the expenses so I can even treat you. Not that you’re exactly short of a dollar.”
Chapter 2: A Trip to Canada
Tiffany was on the phone to Owen. “How about Montréal?” he had said.
Tiffany’s stomach fluttered. The last time she had been there she had given a concert. She couldn’t remember a thing about it. But in the hotel she had experienced a woman for the first time, when one of the hotel managers couldn’t tear her eyes off her crotch. In a moment of weakness, or maybe a moment of being adventurous, she took off her shorts and let the manager take her to bed. Michèle, she remembered her name had been. Later that evening Michèle had somehow managed to pick up a sexy older man, married of course, who had done an excellent job of servicing both their needs before discreetly returning to his own room.
“Why Montréal?” she asked Owen.
It turned out he had won a photographic competition and was meant to go and receive an award. Tiffany knew that he would have no interest in an award reception like that, even with a free hotel and airfare thrown in. He lived in the desert to escape that sort of thing. But a weekend together would be a fun getaway. She would barely be able to step out of their hotel room but that was fine, he was a wonderful lover and they would not be bored.
“It’s the best hotel in the city,” Owen said. He gave the name. Tiffany’s heart fluttered again and she wondered if Michèle still worked there.
“When’s the ceremony?” Tiffany asked.
“Friday night.”
“Then I’ll arrive on Saturday.”
“You don’t want to come to watch me receive my award?”
“I’d love to. But you know what would happen. It’s your award, your moment. You don’t want the coverage to be all about me.”
“I’d better call them and un-refuse my invitation. I already told them I wasn’t coming.”
“Were they disappointed?”
“I think so. More surprised. Photography is not that lucrative so a first-class airfare and a suite in the best hotel in town is not something most photographers would turn down.”
“I wish I could be there late Friday night, after the ceremony. But I have a concert so I will have to get a redeye flight and won’t arrive until Saturday morning.”
“So I’ll be alone all night?”
“You don’t have to be. Maybe there will be some famous photographer groupies.”
“That would be a first if there were. I don’t think photographers have groupies.”
“Or a nubile teenager who wants you to see her naked in the hope that you’ll get her a photo-spread with some famous men’s magazine.”
“Are there famous men’s magazines any more? I think the internet killed them. Anyway, that’s not the type of photography I do.”
“You did with me.”
“Yes. Back when you were a nubile teenager hoping for fame and fortune.”
“Fame and fortune is very over-rated.”
“I wouldn’t mind finding out for myself.”
She laughed. “You would hate it with a vengeance. At least the fame part.”
“Anyway, you’d be upset with me if I slept with someone the night before you arrived.”
Tiffany started to form a plan in her mind. Perhaps Michèle still worked at the hotel. Maybe she should get Owen and Michèle into bed together. Or at least try.
“I wouldn’t be upset,” she said. “You let me have my Hollywood playthings without complaint. Although we’ve never explicitly discussed it, that’s our deal. Total commitment when we’re together. Other times, not so much. Even the night before.”
“So is it definite you can be there? I’ll tell them I’m coming.”
“Yes. I’ll clear my calendar for the whole weekend. I’m not performing so there is nothing I can’t cancel.”
Once she was off the phone with Owen, Tiffany sent a text. “do you still work at that hotel? tiffany”
Chapter 3: The Bet
Michèle was at reception. Her team of junior staff and interns bustled around checking in the guests as fast as they could. She grabbed her purse and went to the restroom. She looked at her phone as she sat on the toilet. There was a message from an unknown number.
“do you still work at that hotel? tiffany”
She thought it must be a joke at first, but then she realized that it couldn’t really be. Nobody knew about her and Tiffany. Although they hadn’t spoken since Tiffany left the hotel where she worked, she knew the 310 area code was Los Angeles so it seemed it might be real.
“yes. is that really you?” she replied.
“what time can i call you?”
“i get off at 11pm. i’ll be home 30 mins later”
The rest of the evening dragged on. Once the early evening rush was over there was less to do. She turned her mind to making sure that everything was in order for the various meetings that would be taking place in their conference rooms and ballrooms the following day. Eventually she was getting off the metro and walking the couple of blocks to her apartment.
She had just got in the door when her phone rang. It was the same unknown number as she had texted earlier.
“Hi,” she said. “This is Michèle.”
“It really is me,” Tiffany said. Michèle recognized her voice immediately and any remaining doubt evaporated.
“How are things?” Michèle said, her mind having gone a blank, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say.
“Good. But the reason I’m calling is I’m coming to Montréal.”
Michèle’s heart almost missed a beat. Was she going to get Tiffany out of her panties again? She’d not been with another woman since that day but who in their right minds would miss another night with the most famous young woman in the world? Who wouldn’t want another taste of her perfect pink Disney princess pussy?
“When?”
“Two weekends time. A friend of mine…shit, I may as well be honest, a sort of boyfriend…has won an award. The magazine is giving him a suite in your hotel for the weekend.”
“You’re going to stay with him?”
“Yes. I want to see you again too.”
“You mean…like for coffee?”
“No. I mean like for kissing.”
“Wow,” was all she could say.
“But I have a bet for you. I know you can’t resist bets.”
Michèle gasped, her pussy fluttered with a little tremor of excitement. Tiffany knew about her bets, knew the stories that had resulted from lost bets. The color of her panties, the day of the week of her first sex, whether she was in the mile-high club, and more.
“What bet?” she managed to say as her heart beat like a drum-roll.
“I can’t get there until Saturday. The photography award is on Friday. I bet you that you can’t spend the night with my friend.”
“But…I don’t understand. He’s your boyfriend.”
“Yes. But only when we are together. Come on, I bet you have read about some of my indiscretions in those entertainment magazines. Some of them are even true.”
“So you want me to try and seduce your boyfriend?”
“Yes. And here’s what I’m betting. If you get to spend the night with him on Friday I’ll join you both on Saturday morning.”
Michèle’s heart dropped. “And if I fail I don’t get to…in bed…you.”
“No, I’m not cruel. I’ll do whatever you desire, succeed or fail. But I really do want to make Owen’s evening special. You don’t have a boyfriend right now, do you?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just a bit weird. This isn’t some ‘Così fan tutte’ thing where you bet him he can’t be faithful and then you bet me to try and seduce him?”
“No, not at all. I really want you both to have a pleasurable evening. He’s handsome and fun and a great lover, I promise. Will you take the bet?”
“You know I will. I don’t seem to be able to refuse bets. You’d better give me his last name so I can find his reservation.”
Tiffany spelt out his full name.
“I want you to promise something,” Tiffany said.
“What?”
“I don’t really care that much if you succeed or fail at the bet. But I want you to promise you’ll seriously try.”
“I promise,” Michèle said.
“I’ll see you soon but I have to go now,” Tiffany said. “I’ve an early call tomorrow morning.”
With that, Tiffany was gone. Michèle sat there in a daze, hardly able to believe what she had just signed up for. She went over to her computer and connected to the hotel’s reservation system. It only took a moment for her to find the reservation, in a small suite. With a few keyclicks he was upgraded to one of the best suites in the hotel, not the Presidential Suite that Tiffany had stayed in before, that might seem too suspicious, but one with a huge living room with a bar and a view across the city, a huge bedroom complete with two king-size beds, and a shower big enough for a crowd. She arranged for a bottle of Dom Pérignon to be delivered when he checked in.
Next she sent an email to the back entrance security office. A VIP called “Teresa Owen” would be arriving on Saturday morning and should be escorted in the service elevator to the suite.
Finally she texted Tiffany. “you are teresa owen. go to the loading dock not the lobby.” She gave the street address of the loading dock, since it was down an alley at the back of the hotel.
She showered and put on a T-shirt and got into bed. She didn’t bother with panties. She knew her body would crave her fingers before she went to sleep, reliving her night the year before with Tiffany. She wasn’t surprised at how wet she already was when she first touched. After a quick and not entirely satisfying orgasm she fell asleep trying to plan how she might go about seducing Owen the photographer.
Chapter 4: Owen Meets Michèle
Owen got off the plane in Montréal. He had never flown in first class before. There was a uniformed chauffeur holding an iPad with his name on as he came through customs. In a moment he was in a stretch limo on the freeway into the city. He walked up to the young woman at the reception desk in the hotel and gave his name. He had his credit card in his hand, as he was used to on arriving to check in.
The woman heard his name and told him to wait. A moment later a slightly older woman, mid 30s, came over. She looked at him intently, almost as if she was inspecting him, checking him out.
“Hi,” she said finally. “I’m Michèle. I’m the guest services manager. I like to handle our VIPs personally.”
She glanced at his outstretched hand holding his credit card. “That won’t be necessary. The magazine has taken care of everything.”
She picked up a couple of cardkeys and walked around the reception desk and guided him to the elevator.
Owen followed her. When she opened the door to his room he was stunned. First, he’d never seen such a large suite, let alone been in one. Next the view of the city was spectacular. She showed him where the switches were that operated the electric blinds and drapes, and the various light dimmers. She walked through another door. He followed. The bedroom was huge too.
“Wow, big beds.”
“Plenty of room if you get lucky,” she said. He was surprised that she winked at him, the first sign of anything other than being completely professional.
There was a knock at the door. A room service waiter came in with the champagne and two glasses. Owen watched as Michèle professionally removed the capsule, unscrewed the wire and removed the cork with just the slightest of hisses. She poured him a glass and passed it to him.
“I’m not sure I should drink,” he said. “I’ve got the award reception later.”
“That’s not for several hours. Plus who can resist Dom Pérignon.”
On the spur of the moment Owen decided to ask her to drink with him. She was very attractive and if Tiffany were not arriving the following day then he’d definitely have been interested. In fact, perhaps he was interested anyway.
“Then you’d better have a glass with me,” he said. “If it’s that irresistible I’d hate you to have to resist just because you’re on duty.”
He picked up the second glass and held it out. She filled it and then took it from him. They clinked their glasses.
“What shall we drink to?” he said.
“Your award?” she suggested.
“No. That’s boring.”
“To Tiffany?”
He was astonished when she said that. He had no idea that he was not the only person who knew Tiffany was spending the weekend with him.
“How do you know about her?” he said.
“She has people who make special arrangements. She can hardly just stroll up to the reception desk in the lobby. Don’t worry, I’m the only person that knows.”
“She’s not arriving until tomorrow.”
“I know.”
He decided he might as well try his chances with Michèle. After all, Tuffy had been explicit that she would not be upset.
“She’s not really my girlfriend,” he said. The moment he said it he regretted it. It was too unsubtle, he should just have hinted at his availability more indirectly.
“Well, you have a whole night in Montréal on your own. It’s a great city.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be in the mood for going out after the award thing.”
“Then you can come back here and finish the champagne.”
“It’s no fun drinking on my own.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Would you like it to be?”
“I’m not exactly meant to go to guest’s rooms and drink with them.”
“I bet you’ve done it before.”
He was surprised that Michèle looked shocked, almost as if the word ‘bet’ had some magical effect on her.
“True,” she said.
“So you can do it with me.”
“I don’t finish work until 11 tonight, though.”
“I don’t think I’ll get back from the award dinner much before 10. So that’s perfect.”
“Are you sure? I mean Tiffany might be upset if she knows you were drinking with a woman in your room late the evening before.”
He could hardly tell her that she wouldn’t be. That would be too obvious a come-on, too obvious he was hitting on her.
“Are you planning on telling her?” he asked.
“Of course not. I’m always discreet. I’m the guest services manager, remember. It won’t be the first secret I’ve kept.”
“So we have a deal then. You come back here at 11 tonight and help me finish the champagne.”
“We might need a fresh bottle by then.”
“Hmm. I wonder who we could get to arrange something like that. Maybe the guest services manager.”
She laughed. “Actually you just have to pick up the phone and call room service. But I’ll take care of it. Would you like another bottle once Tiffany arrives in the morning?”
“Good idea. Nothing like good champagne for breakfast.”
“Gets you in the mood,” Michèle said, and winked again.
“You’re pretty forward,” Owen said.
“Would you like your suitcase unpacking?”
He assumed that she would summon a maid to do it and was surprised when she took his suitcase through into the bedroom and put his clothes in the wardrobe herself. She walked back into the living room with one of his shirts on a hanger.
“I’ll get this ironed for you for the award dinner,” she said.
“I didn’t plan to wear that one.”
“You do now. I picked it for you. Men need to be handled firmly.”
He laughed. “And are you going to handle me firmly later?”
It was her turn to laugh. “You wish.”
“I do. You’re very attractive.”
He noticed that she blushed slightly. “I can’t believe you said that.”
He wondered if he had said too much. “You aren’t offended are you?”
She smiled. She looked even prettier with her flushed cheeks. “No. What woman would be offended at being told she is attractive?”
He got a sinking feeling in his stomach that perhaps he had gone too far too fast, that she would sensibly decide not to meet him alone in his room late at night. But he didn’t need to worry.
“I’ll see you at 11 then.”
She picked up her champagne glass and finished it. A moment later she was gone.
Owen sat there sipping his champagne. He was trying to decide whether he should try and get into Michèle’s pants that night. He was seeing Tuffy the next day so maybe he shouldn’t. But opportunities for a nice uncomplicated one-night-stand with a very attractive woman didn’t come along that often. He decided to compromise. He’d try something with her but not very hard. If she went along then it was meant to be. If she did not then he could feel virtuous that he resisted temptation.
Chapter 5: Photography
Michèle went back down from Owen’s room. She was amazed how far she had got. She had said a couple of flirty things to him, he had told her she was attractive. Best of all, they were meeting alone in his room at 11 at night with a bottle of champagne. No man invited a girl to his room to drink late at night unless he wanted more. And no girl went to a man’s room late at night unless she was ready to offer it. It promised to be an interesting evening. She realized that her pussy was gently quivering with anticipation.
The evening passed slowly until her shift finally ended. She went to the back of the hotel and went down in the service elevator. First she changed out of her hotel uniform and put on street clothes. Normally she would just wear jeans and a T-shirt under her coat to go home, but because of the bet she had brought a special outfit. A blouse that was a little too tight across her large breasts. A skirt that was a little shorter that she would normally wear, and tight on her ass. Stockings and heels. Nothing too obviously sexy but something a lot less dowdy than the uniform he had seen her in earlier.
She got another bottle of Dom Pérignon, put it in a bucket of ice, and then took the service elevator to the top floor. Her master key would open any room in the hotel but she knocked softly. After all, she was still a hotel manager not Owen’s date, at least until the moment she stepped through the doorway.
She heard him approach, and he opened the door. She walked in with the ice-bucket in her hands and put it down on the sideboard. She was tempted to try and kiss him, it just seemed so inevitable, but for now she continued to play along innocently.
“Wow, you look different,” he said, looking her up and down. She felt as if she was a heifer at auction in front of a prospective buyer.
“An improvement, I hope.”
“I said you looked good earlier and it made you blush a little. Now I’m going to make you beet red. You look totally hot dressed like that.”
She could feel her face flush. Her mind went blank, she couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say. She busied herself opening the champagne and poured two glasses. She gave him one.
“I think this must be the first time I’ve had two bottles of champagne in one day,” he said. “I bet you get to drink a lot more than I do.”
“Not really. I’ve drunk champagne maybe two or three times in the last few years. As a rule, I never drink with guests.”
“I feel honored then. How come I get the royal treatment?”
She could hardly say that Tiffany had put her up to it, bet her she couldn’t seduce him.
“I don’t know really. Somehow, you talked me into coming back tonight. How was the award dinner?”
“It was fine. Not my sort of thing really. I only came because Tiffany wanted to get away. But now I’m sitting here with you I’m glad I did. The evening is finishing way better than it started.”
“Can I see some of your photos?”
“I didn’t bring any prints. I have some pictures on my iPad.”
“Did you ever photograph Tiffany?”
“Yes. Just once. Before she was famous. The first time I met her.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Her car broke down. I helped her fix it but she had to stay the night to wait for a part. She asked what she could do to pay me back. I asked her to model for me as the sun set. I didn’t plan it to be nude photography but somehow she just took her clothes off without me asking.”
He picked up his iPad and scrolled around until he found the picture he wanted. Michèle was surprised he was so open about showing her a topless photo. She didn’t know much about show-business but she knew that Disney would freak out if a picture like that appeared anywhere public. Tiffany was sitting on a rock. The picture was slightly orange from the setting sun. She was just wearing pink panties, her breasts casually bare, completely comfortable in her own body. Michèle felt a little twinge in her pussy remembering when she had seen Tiffany naked herself, and a second twinge of excitement at the knowledge she would see her naked again the following morning.
“She always wears pink panties with me,” he continued. “Because that was what she was wearing that first day with me. She’ll be in pink when she arrives tomorrow.”
Michèle laughed. “Well I won’t be conducting an inspection.”
“Would you like me to take some pictures of you?”
“Right now you mean?”
“Yes.”
“You mean…like that? Half-naked.”
“No, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Just as you are, in those hot clothes.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Just sit there, on the sofa, with the champagne glass. Just talk naturally to me. I’ll take pictures and try and catch you looking natural, just as you laugh or smile. I hate posed photos, they never do anything other than look posed.”
He got his camera out of his bag. She was surprised how small it was.
“I thought you’d have some ten-thousand dollar monstrosity with huge lenses.”
“I do have a camera like that. Good for the mountains and the wild flowers. But for casual pictures like this it is best to be non-intrusive. The more that you can forget the camera is here, the better the photographs will turn out.”
They talked and he took pictures. His camera had a little screen that he could orient any way he wanted so he didn’t need to look through the camera to take pictures. Soon she forgot it was there.
“Let your skirt ride up,” he said. “If you’re comfortable.”
“I am. Somehow your bedside manner is very relaxing. Oh wow, I shouldn’t have said ‘bedside manner’ it makes it sound like you’re seducing me.”
“Only with my camera.” He paused. “For now.”
She let her skirt slide up over her thighs. The combination of his soft voice and the champagne meant she didn’t really care how high it went. Maybe he could already tell her panties were not pink.
“Was that your first time with Tiffany? After you photographed her I mean.”
“How do you know that we did anything after?”
“Didn’t you?”
He laughed. “You are nosy.”
“Sorry. That was too personal, I should never have asked.”
“It’s fine. Ask anything you want and I’ll answer. We made love that night and in the morning she drove off and I thought I’d never see her again. A perfect one-night-stand.”
“It’s hard to avoid seeing her these days. She is so ubiquitous.”
“Unbutton your blouse,” Owen said quietly and unthreateningly. Without really even thinking twice about it, Michèle’s fingers slowly undid the buttons as he took pictures of her. She slipped it off her shoulders. He didn’t ask but she didn’t stop. A moment later her bra was on the sofa beside her.
“You have beautiful breasts,” he said.
“Nobody’s ever complained,” she said smiling. She knew here breasts were great, very large but firm, but since she was tall, all in proportion so she didn’t look top heavy. Lovers could not keep their hands off them.
“Would you like some more champagne?” he asked, noticing her glass was empty. Michèle felt a little drunk already, knew she should probably refuse. But she also knew that a little more alcohol would get her relaxed enough to do what she knew Owen really wanted. She let him top up her glass.
“So what color are yours?”
“My panties you mean? I suppose you want me to show you.”
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Michèle took a deep breath, stood up, reached behind and undid the zipper on her skirt. It fell to her ankles. Black was the answer. Black panties and black stockings with a pale band of her bare skin between. Owen took more pictures.
“Turn round,” he said, as he photographed her from all angles.
She was wondering if she should dare to take her panties off. Whether she would even be able to do it if she tried. As if he could read her mind he suddenly spoke.
“Do it.”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. She slowly slipped her panties over her hips and lowered them. She stepped out of them in just her stockings. Her pubic hair was red, which lovers always found surprising given the light brown hair on her head. It was thick on her mound but there were just a few scattered hairs lower down so that her pussy didn’t have any veil of modesty, it was as if she could feel Owen’s camera pressing into her cleft.
“Sit down and take your stockings off.”
She sat on the sofa and slowly rolled down first one and then the other. The only semi-natural way to do it, when she got down to her ankles, meant that her legs were spread and even her pussy lips were not hidden from his lens. She was surprised how normal it felt to be photographed naked like that, something that she had never done before and certainly had never planned for that evening.
He put the camera down and refilled both their champagne glasses. He sat down leaving the camera on the low table. It seemed the photoshoot was over.
“You were great,” he said.
To her surprise she didn’t feel the slightest need to put her clothes back on again. It just felt normal to be sitting on the sofa completely naked drinking her champagne. She didn’t even feel the natural urge to cross her legs modestly. He sat on the chair nearby, fully dressed. She could tell he was sneaking little glances at her naked body but it felt flattering rather than creepy. Plus she could see he was hard, and that was the ultimate compliment. She didn’t feel in a rush. It was obvious they would spend the night together. Usually she would feel that she should do something, either something active, or at least passively encourage the man to make a move. But that evening she felt like letting things unfold in their own time.
She drained the last of her glass, reached forward and picked up Owen’s camera.
“My turn,” she said.
Chapter 6: More Photography
Owen had a wonderful feeling of contentment. Michèle was completely naked, sitting casually on the sofa drinking her champagne. He didn’t want to stare at her but he found his eyes drawn to her large breasts, and then downwards to the patch of reddish pubes that was all he could see of her pussy. He knew his cock was hard and, moreover, he was pretty sure she’d noticed. Not that he cared. There was no doubt that she was going to stay the night with him. She didn’t seem to be in a rush and he didn’t feel any need to rush either.
She finished her champagne and put the glass down. She picked up his camera and immediately found the switch to turn it on.
“My turn,” she said.
She started to take pictures of him.
“Unbutton your shirt,” she said, just as he had earlier asked her to unbutton her blouse.
Like her, he didn’t really need telling. He unbuttoned his shirt completely and took it off. He was proud of his body. He worked out. Not that he was ripped but he wasn’t overweight.
“What color is your underwear?” she said with a smile. They both knew that she was about to see his cock. He stood up and undid his pants and let them fall. He pushed them over his feet, taking the opportunity to remove his socks. He stood up in just a plain pair of white briefs. She made no secret of the fact that she was inspecting the bulge, he could almost see her imagining what his cock was going to look like.
She didn’t have more than a moment to wait. He pulled the waistband of his underwear out and released his erection. Now his knob stuck out against his belly. He pushed his briefs down over his hips and kicked them away. Now he was naked too. She took a final picture and put the camera down on the table.
Michèle moved so she was standing in front of him. She moved a little closer. Her nipples touched his chest, his cock touched her belly. Their lips touched and seconds later their tongues.
Their tongues intertwined like fighting snakes. His hand went to one of her breasts, her hand went to his cock. She kissed her way down across his chest, gently biting his nipples before going lower. He stood rooted to the spot, his body tense with excitement as she approached his cock. She knelt down and he felt the warmth and wetness as she wrapped her mouth over his cockhead. He felt her fingers lightly caress his balls.
She picked up her glass and took a large sip. Then, without swallowing, she wrapped her lips around his cockhead again. He could feel the champagne fizzing on his cock as she moved her tongue all around him.
He let out a little moan of encouragement. “Oh Michèle, that feels amazing.”
She started to take him deeper into her mouth, sliding her lips up and down his shaft as her tongue circled around the rim of his knob. His cock felt as hard as iron.
“Oh Michèle, that’s good,” he sighed. “But I want to satisfy you properly. As a woman.”
She got up, took a couple of paces and sat down on the sofa. She spread her legs wide and put her feet on the sofa cushions to either side. Her body was gaping open, offered to him. He could see a few dewy droplets of her arousal glistening on her pussy lips.
“Bienvenue,” she said. Welcome, in French.
He knelt on the floor in front of her. She reached down and grasped his cock. She gently pulled forward and guided him into her entrance. He pushed his hips forward and felt himself touching her lips. Then he was further inside, just the tip of his cock penetrating into the warm, wet fissure that was her pussy.
“It’s been so long,” Michèle sighed as he slowly pushed himself deeper and deeper into her body.
“How long?” he said as the last of his cock buried itself completely inside her.
He could see that she was struggling to think with the feelings from between her legs overwhelming her brain. He started to slip in and out of her, making thinking even more difficult.
“The captain,” she murmured. “About a year.”
He had no idea who the captain was, but if it was a year ago then clearly it wasn’t a boyfriend, or even a regular friend with benefits. For some reason he was pleased that she wasn’t being even the tiniest bit unfaithful to another lover.
“Fuck me really hard,” Michèle managed to say. “I like it rough.”
He put his hands on her breasts and his hips started to move back and forth more vigorously. He moved his hands and started to pinch her steely nipples. On what he guessed was the point of pain.
“Yes, like that,” she moaned as he pulled his cock almost out of her pussy completely before slamming it back in hard like a sword into its scabbard. She reached down between their bodies and with one finger she started to touch her clit.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “I’m close to cumming.”
“Oh yes, Michèle, cum for me. Flood my cock with the juice of your passion.”
Michèle started to masturbate her clit harder and faster. Owen fucked her harder and faster too. The two of their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat. Michèle was moaning and thrusting her hips up to meet his cock each time it thrust back inside.
“Yes, yes,” Michèle managed to cry as her orgasm burst through her body. Her face and her breasts were flushed crimson, her cunt was clenching on his cock. Her eyes were closed tight, her mouth open wide as she gasped for breath. Gradually the intensity of her climax reduced.
“Cum inside me,” she moaned as the final ripples of her own orgasm faded into an empty memory.
He thrust hard into her. She was much wetter now, her orgasm had flooded her cunt with moisture. A few more thrusts and he, too, was flooding her cunt.
“Oh yes, fill me up,” she moaned as she felt the first twitch of his cock, felt the first spurt of his cream inside her. She squeezed her vagina hard onto his cock so to maximize his pleasure as he pumped himself empty into her welcoming cunt.
He collapsed on top of her, pressing his chest onto the cushions of her breasts and pressing his tongue into her mouth. Reluctantly he withdrew his cock from the comfort of her warm opening.
He lay there kissing her for what felt like a long time but was probably just a few minutes. Then he got up and held out his hand. She lifted up her own hand and took his. He pulled her to her feet and hand-in-hand the two of them left the living room of his suite and went into the huge bedroom. They rolled under the covers of one of the huge beds and a few minutes later they were fast asleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter 7: Tiffany Arrives
Tiffany finished her concert. The limo took her straight to the airport. During the journey she slipped out of her stage outfit and put on casual clothes. She could see the driver watching her in the mirror, but he had seen her half-naked so many times before she didn’t really care. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, put a band over it and threaded it through the back of a baseball cap. She put on dark glasses, despite it being night. Dressed like that she wasn’t recognizable.
All too soon the plane was landing in Montréal first thing in the morning. But with the three-hour time difference it felt like it was the middle of the night. The limo took her to the back entrance to the hotel, she gave her fake name, and moments later she was in the service elevator going up to the top floor, a cardkey in her hand.
She opened the door to the suite. The lights were on. There was a champagne bucket with a bottle still in it. Piles of clothes on the floor. She smiled knowing that Michèle must have won her bet. She walked across the living room and through the open door of the bedroom. Owen and Michèle were under the covers, still sleeping soundly, their arms wrapped around each other.
Tiffany analyzed her own feelings. She half expected to feel a pang of jealousy that her sort-of-boyfriend had fucked her sort-of-girlfriend but she didn’t. She just felt a thrill at what fun they were all going to have.
Owen stirred and opened his eyes. He jolted wide awake the moment he saw Tiffany.
“Oh no,” he said, falling back onto the pillow. “I’ll get her to leave.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Tiffany said.
“What? I don’t understand. I thought you’d be upset.”
“I’ve got a confession. Actually we’ve both got a confession.”
“Now I really don’t understand.”
“We set you up. I bet Michèle she had to seduce you. Or let you seduce her. Apparently she did. Or you did. Or you both did, most likely.”
Michèle rolled over and kissed Owen, still only half-awake. Then she noticed where he was looking and followed his gaze.
“Oh, hi Tuffy,” she said.
“I’m confused,” he said. “How do you two even know each other?”
“She stayed here. In this hotel. When she performed in Montréal.”
“So…is there some story? It seems there might be.”
Tiffany wondered whether to tell him then and there but decided that it would be better later. Right now her body was ravenous for attention. There were a naked man and a naked woman ready to provide it.
“Quite a story,” she said. “We’ll tell you later. But right now I seem to be overdressed compared to you two.”
Tiffany slipped off her top and her bra. Her pants and panties slipped to the floor. In a moment she was naked too.
“Ta da,” she said, throwing her arms wide and showing her body to her two spectators. She didn’t live the chaste life of a nun but she wasn’t promiscuous either. Her naked body was a sight that not many men, and only one woman, had ever seen. And Owen was the only person to have as much as a single nude photograph.
She slipped under the covers and lay alongside Michèle.
“Don’t I get a kiss?” Tiffany said.
“Of course,” Owen said. But Tiffany decided to tease him and instead she kissed Michèle. She could see Owen’s look of complete confusion. It was certainly going to be a fun weekend. She kicked the covers off the bottom of the bed and lay back, offering herself to the other woman. Michèle didn’t need any more of an invitation and Tiffany closed her eyes as she felt her mouth close over one of her instantly-hard nipples. Even with her eyes shut she knew he would be watching as the hotel manager started to make love to his sort-of-girlfriend.
Tiffany had only been with a woman once in her life, her last visit to Montréal which was over a year ago. Somehow it felt different. Even with her eyes closed, Michèle’s lips felt different on her breasts, a little softer, a little more delicate. Her body tightened in anticipation as she felt the trail of kisses descend across her belly. She moved her leg to one side so that her lover would have free access to all the most sensitive and personal folds. Her pussy. The pussy that she knew many of the men in the country had imagined as they stroked their cocks. Not to mention all those pre-pubescent and teenage girls who had imagined being naked with her as their fingers played amongst their own folds, too young to realize exactly what might occur but enjoying the mystery anyway.
Michèle’s kisses moved lower down her belly. Tiffany’s shaved mound was fleshy and sensitive as the kisses slowly approached their destination. The closer Michèle got to her slit, the slower she moved. It was almost excruciatingly exciting being forced to wait for the avalanche of pleasure that she knew was to come. She felt Michèle’s fingertips on the plump outer lips of her pussy, spreading her gently, opening up the door to her temple. With her eyes closed she couldn’t tell exactly what was happening but the feelings were incredible.
Michèle’s tongue moved lower, deliberately bypassing her clit. She felt the tip of her tongue probing her, pressing into her entrance, circling into her opening. Between Michèle’s saliva and her own arousal the entire area seemed to be awash. Tiffany felt the tongue move away to be replaced with a finger. It had not been that long since a man’s finger had entered her but this was different, the finger thinner and feminine, being careful to avoid scraping her soft interior with her longer nail. The finger started to move, slowly and deliberately, starting to fuck her. Tiffany didn’t do it deliberately but she started to moan, she just couldn’t stop herself.
Tiffany yelped in surprise when Michèle pressed the tip of her tongue onto her clit. She started to lightly tease that sensitive little point as her finger continued to work its way deeper and deeper into her.
“Oh Michèle, that’s wonderful.”
Tiffany opened her eyes for a moment. She took in the scene. Michèle was between her legs with her mouth pressed against her pussy, her eyes shut as she savored the flavors of Tiffany’s femininity. Owen was lying across the bed. He was watching the two girls, languorously stroking his hard cock. Once Michèle had brought her to her first orgasm then it would be his turn, and her little feminine finger would be replaced with his thick, rough manly cock. She felt a quiver deep inside her pussy at the thought.
“Keep going,” Tiffany sighed. She could feel her orgasm winding up inside like a spring. “Just like that.”
Michèle didn’t break the rhythm for a moment. Her tongue pressed a little harder on Tiffany’s clit and her finger pierced a little deeper.
“Oh, I’m cumming you clever girl,” Tiffany squealed and then her body jerked as if she had just been electrocuted. Waves of pleasure exploded from her cunt and flooded through her body. She felt the hair on her scalp stand up and her toes curl. Her entire body was a quivering blob of pleasure. Michèle somehow managed to keep her tongue on Tiffany’s clit as she jerked her hips and fucked Michèle’s mouth. She didn’t stop licking until the final ripples of bliss had faded to black. Tiffany lay there limply on the bed, almost as if she’d passed out. Michèle moved back up the bed, straddling Tiffany, bent down and kissed her. Tiffany was too out-of-it to respond and she just let Michèle kiss her all over her face like a cat licking a kitten.
“Aah,” Michèle said suddenly.
Tiffany opened her eyes. Owen was now behind her. From her angle she couldn’t see the details but he knew his cock must be inside her. Or at least working its way into her. She kissed Michèle. With Michèle lying on top of her she could feel each of his thrusts second-hand, the two women’s breasts pressed together between their bodies.
Michèle rolled off to one side of Tiffany. Owen was standing at the foot of the bed, his angry cock hard and almost throbbing. Tiffany couldn’t wait any longer and spread her legs. He moved up between her outspread thighs and plunged into her in a single brutal thrust. Tiffany cried out in a mixture of pain, surprise and pleasure. Her pussy was dripping wet but Michèle’s finger had done little to prepare her for the assault of his thick manhood.
“Aargh,” Tiffany gasped as she went from empty to full in a split-second. “Welcome back.”
Michèle’s hands were caressing her breasts as Owen started to fuck her. He was like an animal, intent on his own pleasure more than hers. But his violent thrusting was hugely exciting, she was a mare being mated. Another orgasm swelled up to a crescendo and then burst over her like a breaking wave, smaller than the earlier one that Michèle had been gracious enough to provide, but enough to leave her gasping for breath.
“I’m going to cum,” Owen cried.
He pulled out of Tiffany. Michèle wrapped her mouth over his cock. As Tiffany watched, he cried out in ecstasy as his cock pumped his cum into her friend’s throat. It was hot to watch but Tiffany also wanted to share. She squirmed out from underneath all the bodies and moved alongside Michèle. Michèle moved over so that Tiffany could suck the second half of his orgasm from him, draining his joy into her mouth.
Epilogue
They were all lying there on the bed. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
“Shit,” said Michèle. “I forgot about the champagne I arranged. One of you needs to go open the door though. I mustn’t be seen here.”
Michèle got up and opened the wardrobe. She tossed a toweling robe to Tiffany.
Tiffany walked through into the living room and opened the door. There was a woman from room-service with a bottle of Dom Pérignon in an ice-bucket. She instantly recognized Tiffany and gasped. In a baseball cap and dark glasses she had been unrecognizable; in just a toweling robe only a person living under a rock for the last few years would not have recognized her.
The maid stood rooted to the spot, still stunned that Tiffany was standing there in front of her half-naked. Finally she moved into the room in a daze. Tiffany saw Michèle’s purse lying on the floor beside her discarded clothes. She picked it up and found a $20 bill for a tip.
“Come here,” Tiffany said.
The maid looked a little surprised and moved in front of her.
“What’s your name?”
“Fabienne.”
“Nice name. French names sound so romantic to Americans.”
Fabienne was slightly flushed. Tiffany could tell she was at least a little sexually aroused. Tiffany herself was a lot more than a little sexually aroused having just been fucked a few minutes earlier. She could still taste Owen’s cum in her mouth.
“Do you want $20 or a kiss?” she said.
The maid couldn’t get a word out. Tiffany had no idea, of course, if she’d ever been kissed by a woman before. She bent forward and pressed her lips against Fabienne’s. But she left them there, gently moving her mouth. Gradually Fabienne melted and started to move her lips too. Tiffany pushed her tongue forward and found the maid’s. She let a hand drift onto the maid’s breast.
Tiffany was tempted to bring Fabienne to the bedroom. She knew she would meekly follow if she took her hand. But then she remembered Michèle, who was probably her boss’s boss’s boss or something like that. Besides, a man and a girl were already waiting for her. To bring another girl would be greedy. So finally she broke the kiss. She gave her the $20 bill.
“Thank you,” she said taking the money. But Tiffany knew the kiss was what she would remember for the rest of her life. Then, on the spur of the moment, Tiffany opened her robe and let Fabienne see her naked body.
“Gosh,” Fabienne said. After a few seconds, Tiffany slowly closed the robe again.
“Enjoy the memory,” Tiffany said “Because nobody will ever believe you!”
Fabienne shut the door and Tiffany picked up the ice-bucket and carried it into the bedroom. Nothing goes with sex quite as well as top quality champagne. She opened the bottle while she watched Owen’s head between Michèle’s parted legs.
“Oh fuck. I should do this more often,” she said as Tiffany filled three glasses with the bubbly nectar. She watched Owen’s tongue swirling in Michèle’s pussy, tasting her non-bubbly nectar. The nectar of the goddess.
There would be lots of nectar that weekend.
Bonus Chapter: Fabienne
The day started normally. I call it Tom-day. You’ll have to wait to find out why. Trust me, it is worth the wait.
I arrived at work at 5am. Yeah, I work shitty hours. My assignment varied but that day I was on room-service. I would go to the kitchens, pick up a room-service order, take it to the room, get the paperwork signed. Then go back down to the kitchens and do it again. For eight hours. It sounds tiring, on my feet all day, and it is. But the tips are better than pretty much any other job I get assigned.
At about 7am, as it was getting light, I got an order to take a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne to one of the suites. I liked going to the suites. I would never be able to afford to stay in a suite like that so just getting to visit was a treat. I put together the trolley with an ice-bucket, the champagne and four glasses. Normally I would just put two, for a regular room, but I had no idea how many people might be in a suite.
I went up in the service elevator and knocked on the door. Sometimes, at that time of day, there is no response. I think they order from room-service and then start fucking or something, don’t hear the knock. After a time I was about to knock again when I heard movement.
The door opened. There was Tiffany. Or at least someone who looked very like her. She was dressed in one of the hotel’s toweling robes. In a daze I walked into the room and the door closed behind me. I tried to say something but no words would come out. There was a pile of clothes, men’s and women’s, on the floor. Tiffany picked up a woman’s purse from beside the pile and got out me a $20 bill. Canadian dollars, of course.
“Come here,” she said. I didn’t know what she meant but I walked the few paces across the room so that she could give me the tip.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
I told her that I was Fabienne. She told me that French names are sexy, or something like that.
“Do you want $20 or a kiss?” she asked me.
I was stunned. I assumed she would give me the $20 and I’d leave. Of course who wouldn’t want a kiss from Tiffany, I’d have paid a lot more than $20 for that. But before I could even answer, she pressed her lips against my mouth. This wasn’t some chaste little peck on the cheek, this was full-on kissing. Boyfriend kissing. She started to move her mouth against mine and I couldn’t have stopped my mouth moving against hers if I’d tried. Which, of course, I didn’t. Her tongue moved forward and found mine. After our tongues had played for a bit, although it was probably just a few seconds, I felt her hand on my breast. My pussy fluttered. I’d never been with a girl, only guys, but at that moment I wanted her so much. I was about to summon up the courage to put my hand on her breast. I could see enough through the top of the robe to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. But she broke the kiss and stepped back.
I was mentally taking the robe off her, imagining what her naked body might look like, when she gave me the $20 bill. Then it happened. As if she’d read my mind, she undid the belt on the robe and held it wide open. I got to see her naked. Beautiful breasts with pink nipples, a perfect figure, shaved pussy, dancer’s legs. I think I gasped. My brain had totally stopped functioning and my pussy was flooded with excitement. But before anything more could happen, Tiffany slowly closed her robe.
I’ll never forget her words. “Enjoy the memory,” she said. “Because nobody will ever believe you.”
On autopilot I moved to the door and left the suite. I stood in the corridor wondering if I’d just dreamt the whole thing. Never mind nobody else believing me, I couldn’t really believe it myself. But I looked down at the room-service bill in my hand. “Tiffany” her signature clearly read. That was a bill that was certainly going to get lost on the way back down to the kitchen, and I’d keep forever, to go with the memory of Tiffany’s beautiful naked body and the feel of her mouth kissing mine.
Of course I didn’t even try and tell anyone else what happened. Firstly, people who work in hotels see all sorts of stuff and learn to be discreet. Secondly, because I knew Tiffany was right. Nobody would ever believe me. Before I took the champagne to the suite I’d looked at the paperwork and the room was just in the name of some guy, Owen someone-or-other. So nobody would believe she was even staying at the hotel, never mind my story about what happened.
I couldn’t get her out of my mind though. My body was buzzing, lightly trembling, for the next few hours. I knew my panties were soaking. My nipples pressed almost painfully hard against my bra. I decided to do something stupid. Well, at the time it seemed like a good idea but in reality it was more likely that I would lose my job than anything else.
I entered an order on the computer for a bottle of vodka on ice. Grey Goose, which was the top quality that we had. A few minutes later I had another trolley with an ice-bucket, with several glasses and a couple of mixers. I went to the service elevator. My heart was pounding as the elevator whisked me to the top floor. As I had done first thing that morning I knocked on the door.
Disaster. Absolutely the worst thing that could happen occurred. In my imagination the door was going to be opened by Tiffany, maybe still in her robe, naked underneath. But it was opened by Michèle, the guest services manager for the hotel, dressed in her uniform. I was as good as fired. For the second time that day I walked into the room so dazed that I couldn’t get a word out.
“So,” Michèle said, “You came back?”
My mind was whirling, wondering how she even knew I’d been to the suite earlier.
“Did we order any vodka?” she asked, probably the words I least wanted to hear. If I lied and said they did, I’d probably get found out and fired. If I told the truth and said no, then I was adding an expensive item to a customer’s bill, and I’d probably get fired.
My brain, having been as frozen as the vodka, suddenly went into overdrive.
“No. But I had to come back. I’ll pay for the vodka myself. Please don’t fire me.”
Michèle stood there silently, looking at me. I suddenly got a sense that somehow she knew what had happened earlier, that I’d seen Tiffany naked. I have no idea how, perhaps Tiffany had told her. Or the Owen guy assuming he existed and wasn’t just Tiffany’s way of booking a room under a false name.
“Have you ever been with a girl?” Michèle asked.
“No,” I said. Well, I tried to say but it came out as a sort of hoarse whisper.
“Are you very discreet?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t just mean the normal amount of discreet. I mean cross-your-heart swearing never to tell.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant.
“I will never tell, whatever. Just please don’t fire me.”
She stood there thinking for a moment. I think she was deciding what to do.
“OK,” she said. “You won’t get into trouble. But you must never tell.”
Michèle reached for the radio on her belt and told someone that she had a special assignment for me and to get someone else to cover for me on room-service. My heart leaped. Not that I really understood what was going to happen, I was still in a fog of unthinking arousal.
Michèle smiled. “How much would you like Tiffany to lick you?”
“Oh gosh,” I sighed. My brain had shut down again. I had no idea how she seemed to already know my deepest fantasy.
“Have you even been with a girl before?”
“No,” I managed to get out.
“Have you ever tried anal? Taken a cock in your ass?”
I was stunned. Not just at the filthy question but the fact that it was coming from the demure guest services manager Michèle.
“Would you do it?” Michèle continued. “If it was a condition of getting to have Tiffany.”
I had no idea where this conversation was going, it was one of the weirdest of my life.
“I’d do anything,” I managed to say.
“So you’d lick a girl’s pussy and make her cum, while a guy fucked you in the ass, if you got to make love with Tiffany.”
Again I was shocked both at the content of what she was saying and just hearing words like that come out of the mouth of one of the hotel’s managers.
“Yes,” I said. I could feel my body shaking. I was still terrified I’d be fired but also I was more turned-on that I could remember ever feeling before.
“I’m going to make your dreams come true.”
Michèle took a hold of my hand and led me into the bedroom. Tiffany was there, naked. There was a man there that I didn’t recognize. Not a famous actor or anything. He was naked too. He was rock hard. His cock was in Tiffany’s mouth. It was like watching porn but taken to another level. Michèle and I were fully dressed in our hotel uniforms, holding hands. The most famous woman in the world was sucking off a guy while we watched. If a picture of what I was seeing got onto the net, it would drive everything else out of the news-cycle for days.
“Room service came back,” Michèle said.
Tiffany lifted her head up off the guy’s cock and looked over.
“Oh hi Fabienne.”
“She wants you,” Michèle said. “She wants you make love to her.”
“And what’s in it for me?” Tiffany said.
“She’s going to lick me and make me cum. While Owen does her in the ass. And you watch.”
“You’ve a filthy mind.” Tiffany laughed and then spoke again. “I thought you were joking, but you mean it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Tiffany got up off the bed and came over to me. She was still naked, unashamed and completely comfortable in her own body.
“We’d better see what my new lover looks like,” she said.
She undid the buttons on my blouse and took it off. Then she unclasped my bra. I stood there meekly letting her undress me.
“Nice breasts,” she said. “Bigger than mine.”
She kissed me and once again our tongues found each other. I felt her hands behind my back undoing the zipper on my skirt. It fell around my ankles. I was wearing stockings that day, the type with those lacy elastic bits at the top. I wished I’d worn sexy panties, though, rather than just plain cotton briefs.
“Keep the stocking on,” Tiffany said. “They’re sexy.”
She crouched down and took off my shoes. It was incongruous that I, a hotel maid, was having my shoes taken off by a Disney superstar. She leaned forward and kissed my mound through my panties. It was electrifying and my body gave a tiny jerk. She took hold of the waistband of my panties and pulled them down. I stepped out of them, naked except for the stockings.
Next Tiffany went over to Michèle. It didn’t take her long to get Michèle out of her uniform too. She had surprisingly big breasts, much bigger than mine. Somehow because she was tall, you didn’t notice them so much. At the base of her belly was a sparse dusting of pubes, an unusual red color given the light brown hair on her head. In a way, seeing Michèle naked was even more of a surprise, since she was one of the hotel managers. Someone I saw most days in the uniform that now lay on the floor.
Owen rolled to one side as Michèle got onto the bed. She lay back and spread her legs. I’ve never really seen another woman’s pussy before. I’ve seen girls in the gym but you don’t get to see between their legs, of course. Just their pubes or their shaved slit.
“Come and lie on your front between my legs,” she said.
I moved up onto the bed. There it was, Michèle’s pussy, just a few inches from my mouth. It was intimidating, to be honest. I’m going to lick a girl where she pees. Before I could have any second thoughts I lowered my head and tasted a woman for the first time in my life. It felt surprisingly natural. I pushed my tongue in between her fleshy lips. I knew her clit was in there somewhere although I wasn’t sure how to find it on someone else. I don’t find my own by sight, just by touch. She started to make little noises, almost purring with pleasure, so I just kept doing what I was doing.
I felt something cool on my ass. With my mouth on Michèle’s pussy I couldn’t see what was going on behind me. Not that I can see my asshole any more than I can see my clit. A finger rubbed the coolness onto the rough pucker of my asshole. It was slippery, lube of some sort. I’d heard of anal sex but never considered doing it, and, to be honest, no boyfriend had been brave enough to ask either. The idea seemed dirty and I was worried it would be painful.
As I licked Michèle and she continued to make encouraging noises, I felt a finger pushing its way into my ass, rubbing the lube around. I felt really tight. If just a finger felt like that I couldn’t see how Owen’s cock would get in there. It wasn’t small, for a start, I’d seen it when we first arrived in the bedroom and I’d watched Tiffany sucking it.
“Oh yes, Fabienne,” Michèle moaned. “Just there. That’s my clit. Lick it. No, too hard, yes, like that. Perfect.”
Somehow by pure beginner’s luck I’d managed to both find her clit and discover how she liked it to be licked. Meanwhile, at the other end of my body, it felt like I was being split apart. I think Owen had worked a second finger into my ass, or maybe three. Never having been fucked in there before, the sensations were all novel.
Even though I’d never seen another woman cum before I could sense that Michèle was getting close. I felt happy that I was doing so well my first time with a woman.
“Ouch,” I squealed involuntarily as my asshole was distended even wider. I lifted up my head. Michèle put her hand on my hair and pushed me back down against her pussy.
“Don’t stop,” she sighed, “I’m nearly there you clever girl. You sure you’ve never done this before?”
“No,” I said, almost talking into her pussy.
“Put a finger in me too,” Michèle said. “It’s better that way…when I cum.”
I wasn’t entirely sure exactly how to find the opening into another woman’s cunt but somehow I found the wet entrance and my finger slipped in easily. Which was more than could be said for my ass. Owen’s cock was now pressed against my asshole. He was pressing very firmly. I could feel myself sort of opening up to him, feel what presumably was his knob starting to enter my virgin ass. It felt like he was demanding that my body submit to him, which I suppose in a way he was.
I started to finger-fuck Michèle as I continued to lick her clit. Somehow focusing on something else distracted my body from the intensity of what was happening at my tightest forbidden hole.
Michèle started to cum. “Oh god yes, keep going, yes, like that, fuck me, lick me. I’m…” She gasped and let out a low moan as I felt her pussy tighten onto my finger. I just kept licking and fingering until finally Michèle had to tell me it was too much, she was too sensitive, that I should stop. But I felt so proud. My first time licking a pussy and I made the girl cum.
“Fuck you are tight,” Owen said. His cock seemed to be getting inside though. It had been borderline painful but now my body seemed to be more relaxed and his lubricated cock was starting to move in and out. Since this was my first time I didn’t really know if he was fully in me or not. It started to feel good, I have to admit. I thought it was something that would feel good for the guy, but that the woman just had to put up with to give him pleasure. But I was feeling pleasure too. Plus I’d done my challenge. Lick Michèle and make her cum, and take Owen in my ass.
Owen started to really fuck me now, like he would if he was in my cunt. I could feel his cock sliding in and out of my ass. It was different, nothing like being fucked in my vagina but not as bizarre or painful as I’d feared.
“I’m going to cum,” Owen suddenly gasped.
“Yeah fill up her fucking rectum,” Tiffany said. I’d almost forgotten she was watching, what with Michèle in my mouth and Owen in my ass. And it was odd to hear such filthy words coming out of every teenage girl’s heartthrob.
Owen thrust a few more times. I couldn’t really feel anything inside me but I could sense that he was cumming. I knew that he was emptying himself into my ‘fucking rectum’ and I knew it would not be the last time that I took a cock in that hole.
Owen and Michèle got off the bed and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower run. Tiffany rolled across the bed and took me in her arms. It felt romantic, to be honest, although obviously it wasn’t. She rolled me over onto my back and kissed me. She worked her way down my body, kissing down my neck to the tops of my breasts, circling around my nipples until they screamed for attention. Finally she gently bit first one nipple then the other. She kissed her way lower, across my belly, licking my navel, down to the top of my slit. My legs fell apart as if under automatic control and I felt the first touch of a woman’s tongue where only men’s tongues had previously ventured. I closed my eyes and savored all the feelings that her tongue were generating. She found my clit almost immediately. One of her fingers slipped easily into my wet pussy and another into my still-relaxed still-lubricated asshole. In no time I was moaning uncontrollably as the tip of her tongue circled my clit and her fingers fucked my holes. It was so exciting having Tiffany…Tiffany!…licking me that I couldn’t last long. My body exploded and my body flooded with joy. I was lying there, shaking like I was having a fit, as my lover took me up to heaven and gradually, slowly, affectionately brought me back down to earth.
The freshly showered Owen and Michèle returned. You won’t be surprised to know we had lots more sex that day. I got to lick what Michèle called “Tiffany’s pink Disney princess pussy.” Owen fucked me. I mean in my pussy. I watched Michèle and Tiffany make love, my own personal lesbian porn. We lay on the bed in a tangle of bodies and drank the vodka. It was the most amazing day of my life. Tom-day.
So Tom-day? That is just Tiffany-Owen-Michèle day, the most amazing sexual experience I have ever had, and one it is hard to imagine is going to be exceeded in the future. So here’s a little teaser. If you come to the hotel where I work, and you see my name badge is Fabienne, and you tell me that you know all about Tom-day, then I’ll give you a treat too. If you are a guy, I’ll suck you off. If you are a girl, I’ll lick you. I’ll even get naked for you first. Would you like that?