Erotica
JUNE - TUSCANY IN A HEATWAVE
My gorgeous friend Madeleine Mercury had flown out to see me. We wined and we dined, frolicking between restaurants and small country bars. Disrupting the peace? Potentially. Were they loving it? Absolutely.
We spent minutes, hours, days lounging in various bodies of water. Legs kicking, swimming and gliding around each other as if for a moment we had tails. We dried our bodies on sand or stones by lakes, seas and pools.
We came up out of water only to go down on each other, our glistening forms writhing under the Mediterranean sun. A hirsute English rose and a hairy, curvy goddess.
Alfresco bites were taken from each other as the lunchtime plates were whisked away by swarthy waiters – our table more attended to than most, as the voyeurs and hosts wanted a little piece of the meal. A bit of that thing not strictly on the menu…
We walked home, arms around each other’s waists. Laughing and smirking, ungraciously staggering, as if the setting of the sun was the sign for our night to truly begin.
Arriving at the villa, we stripped, hot and fast. There was no mistaking our longing for the fucking that was about to happen.
I pulled Madeleine’s dress over her head to see her perky, full tits and petite yet thick hips. A small thong adorned her body but was no mean feat for her abounding auburn bush.
I pushed her back on the bed and stepped in the strap, then lowered myself over her, gazing down on her soft hair splayed on the pillow, her big, beautiful almond eyes and soft, round lips. I kissed her mouth firm and slow and made my way down her taught body, kissing her torso and hips before devouring her hairy wet pussy. From the glee of her moans and the moistness of her cunt, I knew how much she wanted me to fuck her.
I flipped her over so that her little arse was in the air and I slid my strap inside her pussy, fucking her slow and hard at first, my hands around her tiny waist, my weight putting pressure on her and pushing her into the strewn sheets. I started to climax – my clit had been throbbing since we got into the room – as did she. When I knew she was satisfied, I pulled out, and Madeleine let out a final moan. We lay breathless next to each other, tangled in a wet patch made by both of us. Grins were drawn across our faces… we felt like two little kittens that had got all the cream.
MAY - FRENCH FROLICKINGS
Early, yolk-coloured rays of sun shone through the glass tiles of the shower. Water beat down on Tabitha’s pursed mouth as she peered up at the dust collected in the extractor of the farmhouse shower. A week into her stay in France, she had spent her mornings cooking and the evenings wrapped in silks, drinking wine on the stone porch of the French farmhouse or watching the sun set while snacking on saucisson and fresh goat’s cheese. How long would she stay, she wondered, and why was she even here?
The stone house of the working farm felt like a bijou castle. With its own courtyard, it would not have looked out of place with a moat and drawbridge. The city princess, all too comfortable with and fond of the soot of London, rather enjoyed the clay-rich mud that seemed to grab on to her after even a moment out of the house. Stepping out that day, however, the fresh spring air pricked her skin and made her forget her concerns.
She spent the day reading in the field, her sundress slipped down her shoulder and her nipples gently grazing the cotton (as she insisted she be naked underneath). Her beautiful feet were arched into borrowed wellies – her poor packing choices had left her with only a pair of leather thigh-high boots, which when worn with her summer dresses on trips to the local shops on colder days turned the villagers’ heads almost clean off.
Tabitha did not seem to notice these people, though, as someone was turning her own head – a man whose name had not yet even passed her lips. Most days, he passed the house on nothing less discreet than a ginormous old French tractor (old by fact and French by her opinion, as agricultural automobiles were not a topic of interest to her). He was the man responsible for her early showers and breakfasts on the porch, when she would bite melon off its rind, allowing the juice to run down her chin in plain sight of the neighbours. She would often daydream about him while out in the pastures, feeling the urge to run her soft hands down her milky skin, which was gradually turning more and more sun-kissed by the day.
Turned heads in the south of France… Turned hands south of the body… her finger tips brushed over her natural bush, caressing the soft, sensual texture and thinking to herself that everyone loves bush, even if they do not know it yet.
After a few small moans, her fingers progressed to the soft, wet lips of her cunt. She lay there and pleasured herself many times in the long grass, fearful (but not truly caring) that someone might see. Hoping, perhaps, that it might be him.
As the sun set, Tabitha pulled herself up out of the grass to return home, to bathe away the dampness between her legs and to sleep the kind of relaxing sleep that one might after an evening such as hers.
The next morning, she heard the tractor like usual, but this time it wasn’t passing – instead, it seemed to have stopped outside. The engine came to a halt, then quick, energetic steps sounded up to the house before a loud, rhythmic bang on the door.
‘Bonjour.’ He drawled. ‘My neighbour said that you would be staying… I wanted to know if you would be needing anything. If you do, please call upon us.’
‘Us’? Thought Tabitha. Who might ‘us’ be?
After chatting a little more, she soon learned that his name was Henri. He was tragically handsome, with eyelashes so thick that his eyes seemed to be lined with charcoal. He was engaged to a girl a little older than Tabitha – a very beautiful girl that she had noticed around the village on the night she arrived.
After that, the brief encounter ended. It was not quite the one she had been dreaming up.
The days passed in much the same way as they had before, but some mornings later, while Tabitha was out on a walk and passing the fields, she saw Henri feeding the goats. He was shooing them around and fighting off the attention of the kids that were so clearly fond of their keeper. She walked over to greet him with a huge grin and he acknowledged her with a smile, passing her the feed. He guided her hand to share the food with the goat. One might even call it a wholesome exchange – if perhaps she would have put on some sort of underwear with the dress and wellington boots.
Unseen by them both, however, a nanny goat had been plotting – seething and seemingly jealous of the interaction with her feeder and kids, not enjoying the new girl in her territory. Maybe this goat knew that Tabitha's intentions were impure. Without caution, she charged and Tabitha was pushed onto the ground. She was covered in mud, pellets, hay – and also Henri, as the bucket on his arm had been pulled over with her and he had landed on top of her in a compromising position.
Profusely apologising, Henri scrambled as he tried to get up. The pair laughed at the mess they had been caught in. The feeling of naughtiness was unavoidable, however, and there was a moment of awkward quiet. Desperate to break the silence, Tabitha quickly exclaimed: ‘Gosh, I’m fucking covered in mud!’
But what to do about all that mud? There was a hose in the barn, and Henri showed her where to wash. Tabitha watched as he sauntered off to do the same, removing his shirt to reveal the definition of his back. Only the cold water from the hose snapped her out it. She dutifully washed her face and shoulders and tried not to get her clothes wet, but the water felt so refreshing in the unusually hot morning. Water ran down her body, the hay dispersing like tiny little log flumes on a thigh ride, trickling into a shallow pool of water at her feet. Before she knew it, the white dress was drenched and clinging to her curves as the water continued to run over her feet getting the last of the mud off.
As she looked up, she saw Henri watching her at the door, almost frozen under a spell. He came closer and hovered his hands over her shoulders. He looked at her for approval and she bit her lip down and nodded. Once he saw and felt the mutual energy, his large, strong hands gently pulled her straps down to expose her breasts. He kissed her and laced his tongue over hers, kissing her chin and down her neck before turning her around and pushing her over the nearby butler’s sink. Pulling up her wet dress, he gasped at her tiny petite waist, her round, full bottom and the white, untanned line left from her thong bikini.
She trembled as his fingers brushed her pussy, letting her wet get all over his fingers before tasting them. He groaned with a sound that felt like this feeling of want wasn’t new. The tip of his hard, thick cock edged into Tabitha's hairy, tight pussy. She gasped.
Before either of them could make another move, the slapping sound of a freezing cold bucket of water echoed through the barn. It had been thrown over them, leaving them gasping for breath. A drenched Tabitha and Henri turned to see Esmeralda, Henri’s fiancé.
But Esmeralda was not furious. Rather, she seemed frustrated at being left out. It had been so long since Henri and his fiancé had had time to play. Even so, while Henri and Esmeralda talked, Tabitha took the opportunity to sheepishly edge towards the door.
‘Hey!’ exclaimed Esmeralda. ‘What will people think seeing you in that wet dress with nothing to cover you underneath. I will not stand to hear them talk about the girl that left our farm in such a state.’
So, before she knew it, the three of them were in Esmeralda’s truck and driving down the road to the couple’s home.
There were two bathrooms in the house, one with a large bath and one with a shower.
‘You can shower in there,’ said Esmeralda.
Tabitha stripped off, revealing her hourglass figure and white strap marks left from bathing in the sun, she stepped into the shower. Without a word, Esmeralda did the same.
Tabitha started to lather up the shampoo between her hands and run it through her curly, slightly tangled wet hair. Again, Esmeralda did the same. Soon, the soap was lathered up and bubbles slipped down their bodies, running off their toes onto the shower floor, and both women were sparkling clean. They were almost ready, but of course the girls needed to moisturise first.
A large, proud glass jar of coconut oil sat on the ledge of the shower, viscous from the heat. Esmeralda poured it into her hands, then smothered it over Tabitha’s breasts and around her waist. She came closer and kissed Tabitha. Wet kisses, with strands of freshly conditioned hair wrapped around their intertwined faces. Esmeralda drifted her mouth down Tabitha’s neck, over her collarbone and to her armpit, licking the damp hair. Tabitha stiffened as if it tickled and let out a groan of delight, desperately trying to restrain herself and not let out more sounds. Her full breasts enveloped Esmeralda’s face, and the French vixen ever so softly sucked on her nipples. Esmeralda’s hands moved down to touch Tabitha’s pussy, which had been throbbing to get fucked since they were back at the barn.
Esmeralda’s mouth was now on that pussy, firmly kissing and licking the soft, sweet-tasting clit, sucking softly and using her tongue to swallow Tabitha’s juiciness. Leaning back on the tiled ledge of the shower, Tabitha opened her eyes to see Henri at the door, watching in awe – for the second time that day. He gazed at his wife’s head in Tabitha’s lap, the thick thighs either side like the ultimate bookends and her pleasured pink cheeks and glistening breasts.
Henri approached behind his wife and began to stroke more oil down the arch of her back, her long blonde hair slicked along its middle. He gently tugged on the ponytail he had made in his hand, releasing and wrapping his large hands and firmly massaging her neck and shoulders, feeling the wet from Tabitha covering her front. He pulled one of Tabitha's legs onto his wife’s back to admire her cherry red toenails and gold anklets, a bonus alongside the hot, wet mayhem of tangled, oiled bodies.
Henri felt his wife’s pussy and guided the tip of his rock-hard cock in, his eyes fixated on Tabitha’s own deep blue, sultry eyes. He gently pushed his cock further, little bit little, slowly fucking his wife while watching Tabitha’s face become rosier and rosier the closer she came to climax. Esmeralda’s mouth was still firmly sucking on and rolling her tongue around Tabitha’s clit, but now her fingers were driving their way inside Tabitha, making her squirm and whimper in pleasure. Henri pushed himself as far as he could into his wife’s tight, wet cunt – he could feel it squeezing and clenching onto him. Holding on tighter and tighter to his wife’s small waist, thrusting harder and harder, the girls both moaning. Tabitha breathlessly exclaimed that she was about to come in Esmeralda’s mouth. With this, Henri took his cock, wet from his wife, and brought it to Tabitha's mouth. She hungrily sucked on the end, then took the whole shaft into her throat, in and out, each time letting out a small gasp and groan. Spit drooled from her mouth as Henri softly rested his hands on the sides of her face and finished in her desperate mouth.