My recent meeting in a cinema with a great couple in Lyon where I am studying led to an amazing experience. After leaving the porn cinema we went to a local brasserie they knew and it was to this I was invited. I saw Philippe and Sandrine across the place. "Meet a friend", said Philippe. Paola was from a suburb of Rome, like me studying. So it was that later we were in a local hotel in bedroom with two big double beds and an empty bottle of champagne. Paola had long, black hair, a stunning figure and dressed not so much as to expose her sexuality as to ooze it. No short skirt. No black stockings. No tight top. She didn't need it. White blouse against her Mediterranean skin. Silver grey skirt just above the knee. Nude stockings. Modest heels. A head turner. On the sofa her skirt exposed lovely thighs. We chatted. On the bed Sandrine's skirt exposed stocking tops as she leant over to undo Philippe's shirt, belt and zip slipping her hand in to explore his mound. Paola looked across. Kissed me. "You like that?" "Yes". She stroked my swelling mound very gently and lowered my trousers. My cock was pushing against the silky fabric of my boxer briefs. Gently she traced the swelling outline of my manhood. Her touch was as light as a butterfly. Her red-tipped fingers danced around the head. I had never been touched so knowingly, so sensitively, so wonderfully before. From her touch I knew that I would be able to wank myself more marvellously when I was alone. I was right. I had never known such pleasure. The others were watching, Sandrine, across the bed from Philippe had his cock out and was pleasuring it between her breasts, pushing them together to as he fucked them. Normally I would have been fascinated but with Paola I was in another place. Sandrine came over. "Look", she said to Paola, pulling my pants down to reveal my swollen, rigid cock. Paola encircled it with her hands and I fell on to my back. With one hand she held my throbbing member up as we all watched. With the other she continued her butterfly wing touching of sensitive points I had scarcely known. At every touch it twitched responsively. A third hand slipped under my balls, fondling and squeezing gently. Philippe came over, engorged gravity defying cock swaying as he did so. He stood close to Paola who opened her mouth to receive him. She let go of the ball end of my rod, hand still encircling the helmet to tend to his balls. Sandrine squeezed my rod still playing with my balls. After a minute which seemed like an hour; "Paola he needs to cum". Letting go of me she moved forwards to take him into her mouth. Paola slipped back to minister to my happiness. Looking above me, I watched as, slowly at first, hands and bobbing head worked his throbbing shaft. He slipped his hands behind her head pulling it down on his cock as his hips thrust forwards to bury it deep. Now my balls were aching. My sap was rising but still Paola tightly holding it vertical, worked only around the helmet with her red nails. I wanted to concentrate on my cock being worked but also on Philippe's cock pumping its full length in and out of Sandrine's mouth. His breathing was hard and thrusting frantic. His back arched as he withdrew to watch his spunk shoot into her mouth and over her face. Plops of hot semen splattered my chest below them. Paola wet her fingers with this to add to the glistening pre-cum on my inflamed and hungry blue helmet. Sandrine bent over me and allowed more of Philippe's hot juice to drop onto it. Then slowly, skilfully twisting her hand over the head she brought me off. Not only had I known such exquisite pleasure. Never had I known such ecstasy in cumming . But never had I known myself jet out so much creamy juice. I had been exquisitely milked dry and my spunk exploded into the air, time after time. Wanking, maybe four loads but now, ten. A still hard Philippe was counting.