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He placed the towels rather quickly on a table d'appoint and turned to face her standing close. She reached up and methodically began to unbutton his shirt. One hand continued the task, the drifted inside the soft fabric to trace around the lines of his muscles, softly exploring the firm contours of his chest. He reached up to her neckline and fingers followed the robes facings slowly downwards, touching her skin beneath. She felt her body responding to his touch and shivered slightly. His hands brushed the slopes of her breasts, then the front of her stomach. A casual finger stopped softly in her navel. But he went no lower, reaching up instead to caress her neck and run one hand over her shoulders in a gentle parody of the massage he'd given her the day before yesterday.
"How are you feeling? I wasn't sure I hadn't been a little rough and you might have needed some time to recover."
Ah, thoughtful and considerate. Not neglectful. Well, I suppose that's alright then.
"Fine, thanks", she grinned. "Excellent service warrants return business!"
He laughed, soft and low. Susan knew she loved that laugh way too much. It was warm, rich and so much the man.
Finished with the shirt she unbuckled his belt. She struggled a little with the trouser buttons and clasp until he gently captured her hands, moved them away and quickly finished the task himself. His erection showed plainly as, released from the trouser's confines, it bulged hard and urgent against his underwear. She traced the rigid outline with her finger and was rewarded with a throb and a buck as he responded to her touch. She reached in and released him, dragging him free over the edge of the elastic until his penis and balls hung exposed. His breathing quickened as she used both her hands to softly caress the length of his rigid cock and explore his heavy sac. He, too, was almost hairless except for a thick mat of jet black curls just above his shaft. She couldn't recall whether he'd been like that before and thought that this was probably another little courtesy for her.
She showed her appreciation by dropping to her knees and taking his head in her mouth. She ran her tongue over and around him before withdrawing her mouth. She let her tongue lick him underneath, the tip just capturing the bead of fluid that leaked from him as she parted contact. She looked up at him, eyelids veiled. He looked down at her, dark irises stark against the whites of his eyes. His chest heaved and she admired again the subtle shifting of firm muscle as it rose and fell. She returned her attention to his cock, this time taking him in as fully as she could. Suck, lick, enjoy. He was too much to fully throat, but she surprised herself – and him – by how much she managed.
"Please...", he rasped. "You're going to suck me dry before I even get to your wonderful ass!"
"And that would be a shame", she acknowledged.
Regretfully, she freed him from her mouth. She caressed him with one hand as she rose, liking the feeling of her saliva oozing between her fingers. He was throbbing, the veins standing out harshly along his shaft and she knew he wasn't far off ejaculating. Oh, she wanted that monster back in her ass though...
She walked to the bedroom, shrugging off her wrap and deliberately allowing her hips to sashay in invitation. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the raw hunger in his eyes as they dwelt on her magnificent ass. She climbed, cat-like onto the bed, sinuous movements tempting him. She could feel the wetness between her legs as she moved. She took hold of the iron railing of the old bedhead and, kneeling, curved her back to elevate her rear. Her well toned cheeks showed to advantage the delectable rosebud of her anus and the moistened lips of her sex.
He shed his remaining clothes then knelt up behind her. Susan wasn't sure quite what to expect because she'd aroused him so much. Part of her badly wanted him to take her brutally, to fuck her hard and thoroughly. But she knew how big he was and she was a little nervous about being used too roughly. Horny as hell, but nervous.
She was pleasantly surprised to feel his tongue licking her little hole. As she had done to him, he teased and caressed her. He rimmed the edge of her anus, gently inserting, probing. He moved a little lower then, alternating his attention between her ever wetter pussy and her ass. He read her well. As she began to moan with pleasure, he pressed his cock into her crack and rubbed himself up and down her firmly: over her quivering anus, down between her lips and around her clit, and up again to nudge at her hole.
Susan splayed her legs a little and pushed back into him; welcoming, wanting, needing. She gasped as he forced the head of his cock into her ass, and then paused. He let her adjust to his size. He knew she was ready when she started to move against him, gyrating her hips around his shaft. He eased himself further in, struggling to control himself; to resist the surging demand within to erupt and release his liquid heat into her anal canal.
Distraction came from an unexpected quarter.
"Miss Susan?"
"Mademoiselle Susan!?"
Henri's voice grew louder up the corridor. The handle turned, the door swung wide. Oblivious, his focus on a sheaf of papers in his hand, he walked into the room.
"Miss Susan, this facsimile has arrived for you. 'Urgent' it is marked, but je ne sais pas..."
His voice trailed off as he looked up and registered what was happening. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. But he couldn't think of anything to say. He desperately looked for somewhere to put the papers. Towels already filled the side table. Clothes were strewn on the chair.
"It's alright Henri, don't mind us. Just on the floor will be fine", said Susan.
She closed her eyes and moaned softly.
"Keep going ... please!" she demanded urgently in a low voice.
Henri let the papers fall from his hand. He was transfixed, his attention held – whether against his will or not was difficult to tell – by the sensuous scene in front of him.
Through the open door there now came a tuneful humming from the other end of the corridor. A trundle of wheels. A few words sung low
in French. Footsteps. A shriek. Folded sheets and pillow slips joined the papers on the floor.
"Sale pute! Putain!!"
Henri snapped out of his trance to see his wife charging across the room. She glared furiously at him and then slapped one cheek of Susan's exposed ass with angry force.
"Putain!" she shouted again, then turned to the proprietaire.
"Comment pourriez-vous!? On Miss Susan's bed!?"
