L’Affaire Française

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RICHIE

I came to with a start. There was a quite but definite thud-thud coming from somewhere. Thinking it was one of the Donaldsons’ boys next door playing at their rowdy games I shut my eyes again. The family day cum reunion dinner was a success but had taken its toll on me as one of the chief organisers of the whole shebang. Even my beloved husband Connor had stayed out of my way for the week leading to the dinner. I sneaked a peek at the bedside clock: 8.43 a.m., and it’s a Saturday to boot. The baby monitor was quiet. All was well in the world.

I almost drifted back asleep when a thud came back. I sighed and noted that Connor, my husband of seven years, was not beside me in the bed. Strange. He was not a morning person on the weekends, so that perplexed me a bit. And that strange thud kept coming again.

I got up from bed and walked barefoot out of the bedroom towards the room beside ours. Baby Colin was eight months old, the joy to our hearts. He was sleeping peacefully in his cot, nary a care in the world for little old Colin. The sound did not come from his room, or from anything inside it.

“That’s strange,” I said. I came out of the baby room. The thud came out, a bit deeper this time, from the far side, the other end of the hallway. My footsteps were quiet as I approached the room where Pierre my half-French cousin was staying.

Pierre was a bonafide model, the type that run runways and wear expensive clothes. He had curly blond mop of hair, the most dazzling ice-grey eyes, and a face Pre-Raphaelites dreamed about. He was also great with babies – Colin turned to mush fifteen minutes into being held by Pierre, who’d made the cutest faces and sounds to attract the baby. He was difficult to pin to, but I managed to score him for the family reunion, where some stateside aunts and uncles who’d never seen Pierre ooh’ed and aah’ed at his every behavior.

One time I caught him watching Connor playing with Colin with the strangest look in his grey eyes. “You’re very, how to say it cheri, vraiment heureux. You have the most amazing husband, and the most amazing baby,” he had said. When I repeated it to Connor he was dismissive.

“But it’s true, I do have the most amazing husband,” I had said, before kissing him. Connor had smiled, that old dazzling smile that first captivated me to him.

Thud thud. There’s that noise again. My thoughts came back to where I was, peeking into Pierre’s room. There was a gap in the doorway, five-inches top, but enough to see everything.

There were clothes on the floor. I noted Connor’s favorite dark blue sweater, the one he claimed his lucky one since the college days. There were his so-called ‘dandy’ boxers- dandy because it made his bulge look even bigger. They were thrown haphazardly as if one could not wait to be divested of them.

I watched – my heart in my throat – as Pierre, naked as the day he was born, descended on Connor’s thick girthy cock, moaning softly as if afraid of waking the house. Connor had no such qualms as he groaned deeply. “Fuck, your ass is so soft and tight.”

“Étroit.” Pierre whispered hoarsely. “Yes, I am tight, am I not? And your cock is so delicious and so big. Laisse-toi chasser mon cul, encore et encore et encore.”

“Fuck yeah, whatever you say,” Connor gave a huge thrust, and the Pendik escort bed moved. That was where the sound originated.

I watched as the man I gave my ring seven years ago, my love, my partner, my husband, continued having the time of his life fucking my French cousin. Tears ran down my face as I heard Connor murmur Pierre’s ass was the best he’d ever had. I noted his cock glistening in the lube and ass juices – he was going bareback. I wondered briefly if he used our stash of lube, or if Pierre had his own supply. I was brought back to earth when Connor gave a deep groan and the stem of his cock, the part that was not embedded inside Pierre, twitched wildly. I watched dumbfounded as the cum that was supposed to be only for me ran down his cock and Pierre’s thighs.

I returned to our room quiet as a defeated mouse. I pretended to be asleep as Connor came in. I imagined he was relieved that I wasn’t awakened by his adulterous shenanigans. “Morning babe,” he said, when he saw me open my eyes. “Just out for a jog. I’ll have a shower, I know how you gets around sweat.” I just nodded.

That was the first time, but it wasn’t going to be the last.

CONNOR

Pierre my husband’s French cousin was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Have you ever seen a guy so pretty it made communication awkward? I have had that with one of my high school mates, who unfortunately turned out straight as a whistle. Not that I don’t love my husband – far from it he and baby Colin were the two lights of my world, but sometimes a man gotta do what a man gotta do.

It started almost wthout us realising that we – Pierre and me – had been spending more time together as Richie spend more time out of the house trying to organise the coming family reunion cum picnic cum family day. What with trips to the supermarket, the airport and the relatives’ house around the city, that took a lot of his time. He was out one day and I was playing with baby Colin beside the pool when Pierre came up in the tiniest little brief that left nothing to imagination.

“May I have permission to swim?” His accent made everything he said sounded like sex itself. Without waiting for my reply he executed a perfect jump into the pool. The splash made baby Colin giggle in my arms. Pierre swam to where we were sitting in the water in the shallow depths of the pool. We played and talked about everything and nothing in particular. Colin started to fuss and I bundled him up and brought him inside. When I came back there Pierre was, fully naked, lying on his stomach, his delectable ass high and rounded. In his hand was a tube of sunscreen. “Will you put this on my body?”

Blood pooled down low in my crotch as I slathered his immaculate skin with the ointment. I hadn’t realize that I was panting. It was as if my hands took a life of their own as they travelled lower and lower down his body until the curve of his buttocks. I took a lifetime massaging those haunches, making sure every inch was covered in sunscreen. A drop – a big dollop – fell into his crack. I imagined him smiling as my fingers crept closer to his hairless hole. It was only for a second but I could feel the warmth and the tightness of the ass rim surrounding my finger. “Fuck, Pierre,” I murmured. Then he turned. He was hard as a rock, hard and throbbing.

“Give Beykoz escort bayan me your cock,” he intoned throatily. I almost tripped undoing my swimming short, releasing my cock. “Eh bien, très grand ce coq,” Pierre exclaimed, reverting to his mother tongue. “Very very big.”

I was, I guess. I never really measured, but my husband Richie once claimed it was ten inches. He should know, he’d had it up his ass often enough. And as thick as Colin’s arms, if I may say so. I felt an immense pride at that moment. “Yeah? Big, isn’t it? And now it’s all for you.”

“Oui, oui, for me.” Pierre opened his mouth and let my cock slither inside his warm wet cavity. He swiped his tongue over the sensitive undercarriage of the staff and played over the circumcision scar, bringing a pulse to the cock.

“Fuck Pierre, you’re so good at that.” I clenched my ass and grabbed his blond hair, making to fuck his head like a personal toy.

“Come fuck my head, fuck it,” he said before the cock blocked his speech. His throat vibrated as he moaned around the cock, which made a delicious sensation on the rod. But all good things came to an end, and the vibrating trick launched my orgasm. I cum a gallon each time, but this load felt even especially large. Pierre swallowed it, licking the tiny bit that dripped out lasciviously.

That night after Richie fell asleep, I went to check on Colin. The baby was sleeping comfortably as was his wont. There was a sound from the room at the end of the hallway, where Pierre was supposed to be sleeping. I peeked in. Pierre was standing at the foot of his bed naked as the day he was born, a dildo sawing in and out of his asshole. I felt my cock harden as fast as it could, especially hearing his moans and grunts. I discarded my shirt at the threshold and stepped inside, at which Pierre looked up glassy-eyed, even as his hand kept moving the dildo in and out of his ass. “I was waiting for you,” he said, his voice dripping with sex, his eyes watching the tent my cock was making in my boxers. “Thought I prepare for your big cock first.”

The first time was frantic, two beasts in heat pursuing their climaxes as quiet as could be. Although loosened by the dildo Pierre was still no less snug around my cock simply because of my thickness. We reached our climaxes quietly, his muscles vibrating around my pulsating cock, my cum reaching deep past his second sphincter. Afterwards I spent an hour on my knees felching the vestiges of my cum out of his abused ass and lathering the delicious hole with my spit. We fucked twice more that first night – it was a wonder Richie didn’t caught us.

PIERRE

Je déteste les petits enfants, peut pas les supporter. But I know the road to love, or at least chez grandes bites, was often paved with smiles of babies, so I … tolerate them. But only to a point where it was not too detrimental to my own health. The problem of course was that babies like me, moths to a flame that they were, les innocents.

The other bullet points about me would be I hate large gatherings, and I hate far-flung family members, and I especially hate the combination of the two. It was almost as if I was a freak-show, the way I would be paraded at these gatherings. That was why when I first received the call from Richie, mon Escort Cevizli cousin américain, I was rather nonplussed. But I decided to go against the grain and said yes, I would love to attend his family day, with one condition: I would be staying at his house for the summer – I was between modelling jobs anyway, and I had always been intrigued by my American cousin’s husband.

It was almost too easy after I arrived. I put on the charm of the devil and ingratiated myself to Colin, Richie and Connor’s petit bébé. The little one liked me immensely, gurgled into giggles whenever I was around, loved being nestled in my arms. Rather like his father, but I digress. Richie looked hale and healthy, but it was Connor that drew my attention, this tall, sun-streaked brunet who always had a smile for his baby. I watched the way he took care of p’tit Colin, and I felt a tingling deep inside my ass.

Richie was rarely home, and Connor worked from home, a regular house-husband. It was a hot summer and we would have swimming in the afternoon. I made sure to wear my most beautiful briefs, the ones that clung to my buttocks like second skin, and made Connor rub sunscreen onto my skin. He always trembled by the time he reached my haunches, and I could see he was tenting his swimming trunks. By the third day finally I got to draw down those trunks and uncover a veritable treasure, a large veiny nine-inch American cock.

The first time was quick on the draw. He came up my gullet after only a few minutes of sucking – which I took to be laudatory of my efforts. That night he came to my room after everyone was asleep, and proceeded to fuck my brains out three times. The way his cock-head nudged my prostate and made my cock drool in the moonlight was something I would cherish for a long time. For my part he kept murmuring “So fucking soft, so fucking tight,” which made me feel like the most beautiful man alive.

We weren’t very careful in covering our traces. The swimming pool pipes must had been chocked with how much semen we spilled over in the pool, all with baby Colin watching bemusedly. We fucked everywhere: the living room couch (my favorite), the island where Richie prepared his salads, even once in the nursery. Baby Colin was asleep and I was watching the little one when his father came up behind me, pulled down my pants and shoved his formidable cock up my ass, whispering “Richie’s off to the market,” while giving me the deepest thrusts I’ve ever felt inside me. Colin woke up and was about to cry, so I gave him one of my fingers to suck and nibble on. The sensations of my finger being sucked by the son and my ass being fucked by the father almost defeated me as I cum on the sheets covering the cot.

I was sure Richie knew, or chose not to do anything. Sometimes I spied his eyes watching us from the door late at night when Connor forgot to shut it. It was kind of hot feeling his eyes on my perfect body as I was being speared by Connor’s huge cock. It all came to a head last Sunday, a week after the family day, as Connor and I was fucking in the mid-day, not expecting Richie till up late. He knocked on the door and feebly said over the sounds of us fucking, “The car’s acting up.” Connor turned and looked at him intently before continuing with his thrusts.

“I’ll look it up later,” Connor grunted, his icy gray eyes booking no argument. I moaned, bent down and kissed Connor’s bicep, watching Richie all the while like the worst, most depraved bitch-boy ever was. Connor groaned and began his thrusts anew. Richie slunked away defeated. Vive le cul français!

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