Is that true?” I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or proud of my answer. “Yeah, with the right woman under the right circumstances, I beli...ve I could. Why do you ask?” She smiled and her answer caused a familiar stirring in my pants. “The last time you were at my house with Jill and I, we commented to each other afterwards that at more than one point we thought all our teasing was going to get you off before we could fuck you. Do you remember that?” “Hell yes!” How could I forget that?. Though as ever in France, it being between the hours of twelve and two, everywhere else was shut or appeared to be. We settled down in a place called the Ch'ti bar which of course the kids immediately and to Paula's embarrassment called the shitty bar. Lunch though was superb and like most French things was prolonged and relaxed."What were you up to last night?" Paula asked after the kids went off to look at the internet café."Nothing," I grinned."She was a bit noisy for nothing," Paula. He whispered into her ear: “Rose colored, uh?”“Yes, sir,” was her whispered response. Then she knew something was coming but didn’t know what to expect.“Let’s see,” was his next comment.Her response was a bit of shock and a bit of more turn on, as she felt his hands unbutton the waist band of her skirt and allow it to flutter to the floor. Now she was dancing wearing her heels and red opaque thigh high stockings, her red silk shirt and panties. She was completely aware of the show that this was. I raise my knees into the air and wrap my arms around his body. He’s panting, lying on top of me, panting, and his breath smells like onions and peppers, rancid, and I turn my head away. I look over his thrusting body, his skinny butt flexing between my thighs and I see the camera and it snaps a picture. Was my face right? Did I look happy? I open my mouth and tighten my face into a lustful oh. ‘Oh, yeah. Oh yeah, baby. You like that, don’t you? Tell me you like that.’ And I tell him I like.
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