The two young men stood speechless for a moment or two, eyes and mouths wide in amazement, before the truth finally dawned and the comedy of the situation prompted them to laugh out loud.
Pulling themselves together and remembering their manners, they took one of my hands each, planting gentle kisses thereon by way of introduction, all the while gazing into my eyes with delight and anticipation. They, too, it would seem had caught a glimpse of the sensual pleasures to follow.
An hour later, Pierre, Maurice, Justine and myself found ourselves comfortably settled and delightfully engaged in the luxury, two-bedroomed suite which the two young men were sharing at l'Hotel Candide.
The long drapes at the windows were modestly drawn in Maurice's bedroom, bathing everything and everyone in a warm, peachy glow but, to be frank, that was all that was modest about the voluptuous scene within.
All four of us were sitting or lying, as naked as the days we were born, on Maurice's large double bed. Two empty bottles of champagne lay, discarded, on the floor beside us. The warm atmosphere in the room lay heavily on our senses like a richly scented, sexual-charged cloud. A tray of assorted cream confections beckoned us, temptingly, from the bedside table.
Languidly, Maurice raised himself up from his prone position on the crumpled, musky sheets and lazily leaned on one elbow. 'Well, my beauties, which of you is going to volunteer to offer me one of those delicious cakes in a way I can't refuse? A prize for the girl who dares!' Raising his eyebrows in an attitude of enquiry and sexily narrowing his eyes, he glanced from one to the other of us, expectantly, his gaze eventually falling on me alone with a look of smouldering passion.
Long, lean and lightly muscled with dark, curly hair and a close-cropped beard, Maurice was everything I'd hoped he'd be-and more. He was all the things I looked for in a man, and the moment I'd set eyes on him my heart had skipped a beat.
Now, with the memory of our recent stimulating conversation fresh in my mind (which had shown that we had a great deal more in common than a fancy for each other's bodies), and at the sight of his magnificent, long prick which was slowly rising against his belly, pulsing with life and a need to possess, I desired only to give myself to him-totally, absolutely and irrevocably.
Never before had I felt this way about a man and, goodness knows, I'd known men aplenty, despite my tender years. Used always to being in full control of my amorous relationships, this particular man had reduced me to so much putty in his hands, wanting only to be shaped and moulded into a thing of beauty and life and passionate feeling between those sensitive, artistic fingers. Could I, for the first time in my life, have fallen in love?
Gazing back at him, heavy lidded and gently inhaling the heady, male scent of his body, I reached across and plucked a cream cake from the table beside the bed. Teasingly I took a delicious bite, then licked the cream from my lips like a naughty kitten before gracefully reclining on the crumpled bed.
Scooping two dollops of thick cream from the centre of the rich confection, I tenderly deposited them on the very tips of my engorged strawberry nipples which, already, were aching to be licked and sucked by the man of my dreams who lay before me, transfixed and softly panting with mounting excitement.
Taking another scoop of cream, I lay back fully on the bed, spread my long legs with the grace of a dancer and sensually anointed my hot, aching pussey which throbbed in unison with my love-sick heart and longed like never before to be filled to bursting with my wondrous new lover's prick.
Thus garnished I turned my sexy blonde head to face Maurice, eyes burning with lust and as yet unrequited love. Then, as if by magic, I found that we had been granted the entire bed to ourselves. Pierre and Justine, no doubt inflamed by my erotic display with the whipped cream and Maurice's obvious complicity in the warm, highly sexual gastronomic scene which would surely follow, had tactfully retired to Pierre's room and were, even now, engaged in eroticisms of their own.
Alone at last with my lover, I spread my gentle arms and my long, slim legs as far as they would go, willing Maurice to enter me and make me his with a ferocity I'd never previously known.
And I am glad to say that Maurice did not disappoint me. With a low groan he fell upon my breasts and my nipples topped with whipped cream, sucking and feeding upon them like a hungry babe until tears of joy pricked my eyes and, with a sob, I begged him to attend to the sultry haven between my legs.
Lowering his dark, tousled head he licked the rich cream from my dark, throbbing cunt, rubbing his nose and stubbly chin against my unbelievably sensitive clitoris and making me cry out with exquisite pleasure.
Unable to bear the sweet pain of his tongue a moment longer and desperate to be filled with his big, throbbing cock I took hold of his broad suntanned shoulders and pulled, his face up to meet mine.
At the same time as he thrust his eager tongue between my welcoming lips, exploring the deepest recesses of my mouth, his erect cock entered my hot cunt, pushing and thrusting with vitality and vigour until, with mutual passion, we cried out with joy at our simultaneous orgasm.
Moments later we tenderly kissed and our bodies entwined. From the next room we heard Pierre and Justine reach their passionate climax. Faces almost touching, Maurice and I smiled into each other's eyes. God was in his heaven and all was right with the world…
