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Authors: C. J. Fallowfield
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services, is it?’
‘Actually, you’d be surprised,’ I chuckled. ‘You’re quite
naïve for someone with the amount of sexual partners you’ve had. Haven’t you
heard of Tinder, or Craigslist? The world’s a virtual sexual takeout menu now.
See what you like, order, and you get express delivery with no attachments.’
‘People really do that?’ She gazed up at me wide-eyed,
making me laugh again.
‘Not everyone’s lucky enough to pull on a night out, let
alone to find their sexually compatible partner in their local pub, like we
did. Are we going out or staying in to fuck, as all of this talk has me horny
as hell.’
‘I can’t choose, I want to do both,’ she sighed. ‘Much as
I want to go out, your cock is as appealing as any Parisian monument, but best
of all, there’s no entry fee.’
‘Unless you count ripped knickers. Ok,’ I announced,
making a snap decision and throwing the sheets off us. It was a waste to come
here and not do what we’d planned. ‘Quickie in the shower, then we go out.’
‘Quickie’s not in your vocabulary,’ she laughed, then
screamed as I grabbed her and tossed her over my shoulder to carry her into the
bathroom. I had some organising to do, and where better than France to organise
a ménage a trois, with no fear of bumping into them back in Manchester and
risking embarrassing Nadja. The way that masseuse, Édouard, had been smiling
when he was touching her yesterday, I had a feeling he’d be game.
‘I’ll call you when he’s ready for you.’ I kissed Nadja
and left her relaxing in the huge bathtub, covered in bubbles that added a subtle,
yet sultry fragrance to the air, with a bottle of bubbly in an ice bucket close
to hand. We’d had a busy day taking in more sights and doing a load of clothes
shopping.
‘Enjoy it,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve been a bit tense the last
couple of days, it will do you good to relax.’
‘It sure will,’ I confirmed. I smiled to myself as I shut
the bathroom door and made my way out to the lounge, where Édouard had set up
the massage table and was burning some seriously smelly crap that Nadja was
likely to want to order for when I massaged her at home.
What she didn’t know was that when I’d sent her up to our
suite on our return from shopping, I’d popped over to the spa to ask to speak
to him. I’d tested the water by saying that I was sure he’d noticed yesterday
that Nadja was very easily aroused, and that she was likely to get turned on
again while he was massaging her. I asked if that would be a problem for him.
He’d immediately replied no, saying it was commonplace for men and women to get
aroused and he was used to it. I joked that she might try and grope him, as I’d
promised her a ménage and she might get the wrong idea, thinking that his
massage services were a front for escort ones. Instead of an expression of a
man insulted, a look of curiosity flickered on his face. I knew I hadn’t read
the signals wrong yesterday. He then gave me whiplash by replying that such
fraternisation was a sackable offence, so I’d better warn her to behave appropriately.
I’d walked away, thinking I’d need to look into a
swingers’ meeting to find someone for her, but was surprised when he caught me
up in the corridor, looking over his shoulder before asking if I was serious.
It hadn’t taken much convincing to assure him that I was, that we were looking
for someone to join us. He apologised and said his boss was in the room next
door, so he’d had to play the party line earlier in case we were overheard, but
it seemed it was my lucky day. He told me he’d free up some extra time on top
of the massage allocation and he’d look forward to seeing us later. I knew the
type of guys Nadja found attractive, from the way she’d drool over them when we
were watching a movie, and I’d seen her pupils dilate when Édouard had arrived yesterday,
so I was confident that he’d meet with her approval
services, is it?’
‘Actually, you’d be surprised,’ I chuckled. ‘You’re quite
naïve for someone with the amount of sexual partners you’ve had. Haven’t you
heard of Tinder, or Craigslist? The world’s a virtual sexual takeout menu now.
See what you like, order, and you get express delivery with no attachments.’
‘People really do that?’ She gazed up at me wide-eyed,
making me laugh again.
‘Not everyone’s lucky enough to pull on a night out, let
alone to find their sexually compatible partner in their local pub, like we
did. Are we going out or staying in to fuck, as all of this talk has me horny
as hell.’
‘I can’t choose, I want to do both,’ she sighed. ‘Much as
I want to go out, your cock is as appealing as any Parisian monument, but best
of all, there’s no entry fee.’
‘Unless you count ripped knickers. Ok,’ I announced,
making a snap decision and throwing the sheets off us. It was a waste to come
here and not do what we’d planned. ‘Quickie in the shower, then we go out.’
‘Quickie’s not in your vocabulary,’ she laughed, then
screamed as I grabbed her and tossed her over my shoulder to carry her into the
bathroom. I had some organising to do, and where better than France to organise
a ménage a trois, with no fear of bumping into them back in Manchester and
risking embarrassing Nadja. The way that masseuse, Édouard, had been smiling
when he was touching her yesterday, I had a feeling he’d be game.
‘I’ll call you when he’s ready for you.’ I kissed Nadja
and left her relaxing in the huge bathtub, covered in bubbles that added a subtle,
yet sultry fragrance to the air, with a bottle of bubbly in an ice bucket close
to hand. We’d had a busy day taking in more sights and doing a load of clothes
shopping.
‘Enjoy it,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve been a bit tense the last
couple of days, it will do you good to relax.’
‘It sure will,’ I confirmed. I smiled to myself as I shut
the bathroom door and made my way out to the lounge, where Édouard had set up
the massage table and was burning some seriously smelly crap that Nadja was
likely to want to order for when I massaged her at home.
What she didn’t know was that when I’d sent her up to our
suite on our return from shopping, I’d popped over to the spa to ask to speak
to him. I’d tested the water by saying that I was sure he’d noticed yesterday
that Nadja was very easily aroused, and that she was likely to get turned on
again while he was massaging her. I asked if that would be a problem for him.
He’d immediately replied no, saying it was commonplace for men and women to get
aroused and he was used to it. I joked that she might try and grope him, as I’d
promised her a ménage and she might get the wrong idea, thinking that his
massage services were a front for escort ones. Instead of an expression of a
man insulted, a look of curiosity flickered on his face. I knew I hadn’t read
the signals wrong yesterday. He then gave me whiplash by replying that such
fraternisation was a sackable offence, so I’d better warn her to behave appropriately.
I’d walked away, thinking I’d need to look into a
swingers’ meeting to find someone for her, but was surprised when he caught me
up in the corridor, looking over his shoulder before asking if I was serious.
It hadn’t taken much convincing to assure him that I was, that we were looking
for someone to join us. He apologised and said his boss was in the room next
door, so he’d had to play the party line earlier in case we were overheard, but
it seemed it was my lucky day. He told me he’d free up some extra time on top
of the massage allocation and he’d look forward to seeing us later. I knew the
type of guys Nadja found attractive, from the way she’d drool over them when we
were watching a movie, and I’d seen her pupils dilate when Édouard had arrived yesterday,
so I was confident that he’d meet with her approval
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