Written by Ian
4 May 2011
Heather had refused the invitation to dine out
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It was a business meeting – two French guys were looking to buy an American franchised business to operate in Normandy – something we had successfully done in the Midlands before selling on, so they wanted to meet us and ask loads of questions about support and finance. At seven the door bell rang and we greeted Jean and Henri.
We were all dressed in suits – Heather looked great in her black skirt, white blouse and jacket set off by her short blonde hair. In our late forties she had weathered the better with her petite frame and short stature. I’m only five eight, greying and a little overweight. Typically the French looked well groomed and dressed – Jean looked mid thirties, broad and fit whilst Henri was late fifties, tall and slim with a thick head of white hair. Drinks served we sat in the lounge discussing business. With business almost complete Heather excused herself around eight and called us to the dining room as starters were now served.
The ambience was relaxed and we were all chatting away, genuinely enjoying each others company. Conversation was about families, hobbies, holidays – away from business. As Heather collected our plates, standing next to Henri his arm snaked around her and he said “Thank you. A beautiful started served by a beautiful hostess” and he squeezed her bottom as he smiled up at her. Heather almost dropped the plated in shock and disappeared into the kitchen. She served up the main course and although she still looked flushed (maybe it was the wine) she joined naturally in all the conversation. Somehow (doesn’t it always at dinner parties) the conversation had turned to sex. Henri told us he had a mistress his wife knew and indeed was very friendly towards. Jean and his wife happily attended swingers parties. I was fascinated having spent some time and effort trying to get Heather to get into swinging but had crashed and burned on every attempt. A fact I shared at the dinner table. Heather stood to clear the table. “Do you mind if I remove my jacket?” asked Jean, “it’s a little warm in here”. It was and all we men removed jackets – Henri ever the gent helped Heather out of hers. Heather’s blouse was see through, her bra now visible. Perhaps unwisely it was black, making it all the more obvious. Henri couldn’t help himself, “Such a pretty face, pert bottom and lovely bosom Heather” flashing his pearly whites. Don’t get me wrong, I was flattered. And properly turned on by this other man’s attentions. Jean stood and gathered up the remaining plates and followed Heather to the kitchen.
“Ian I hope you are not in any way offended by my compliments but you are a truly lucky man”. I assured him all was well with me. Jean was seated at the table, Heather followed a couple of minutes later. “I though we’d have a break before sweet. Ian, can you top up the wine please”. I did. Henri “Jean were you at Sylvan’s party a couple of months back?”
“Oui”. They were both smiling. “Adrienne produced a wonderful sweet”.
Henri explained. He took Heather’s hand and smiling “Adrienne cleared the main course, just as you have. She brought in all the ingredients for us to make our own sweets. Fruit, cream, ice cream, sugar, sherbet dips, meringue and so on. She excused herself for a few minutes and returned in a dressing gown. There were four gust couples. Her husband helped her out of her gown and there she stood naked. The table was cleared and she lay down. The ladies were invited to go first and they each created their sweet on Adrienne’s body and ate it from her by bending their heads down and licking it up. Then we men were invited to the table. It was stunning, as I’m sure you can imagine. She did admit over coffee, it was inspired by the last “Sex in the City” film where one of the girls, I forget who did a similar thing only to find nobody was dining”.
“More wine please Darling” Heather put her glass in front of me. She was really flushed – her neck was bright red and her face glowing. Like when she’s approaching orgasm. Wine makes her cheeks flush but not like this. I wasn’t sure what to expect next. Then, “I’ll go and get the sweet” and off she went. My heart was racing. My cock was throbbing. She’d been gone a while. I was so nervous and full of excitement I accepted one of Henri’s French cigarettes!
Then Heather appeared carrying a raspberry bomb pudding. Dressed as she’d left the room. I was disappointed. “This would have been way too cold and way too messy to serve up as Adrienne’s desert, sorry gentlemen”. She served, we ate and the conversation became braver and naughtier with each mouthful. “My wife always says that one man can never satisfy a woman fully. Women are capable of many orgasms, men but a few” Jean informed us.
“I’m sure that’s true Jean”. I was taken aback. This was Heather’s first entre into the discussion. “I’d be all for it if it weren’t for the worry of catching something awful – even deadly. And when I get excited, Ian will tell you, I loose all control – I’d never have the presence of mind to ensure whoever it was were wearing a condom. And before you go home thinking we Brits are prudish, I liked the idea of presenting desert and receiving the attentions of three men but with this dish it simply wasn’t practical”.
Silence as we finished the sweet. So she was horny earlier. If I know my wife, her panties would be drenched – that’s probably why she was so long out of the room – nipping up to the bedroom to wash and change. I excused myself and went to the loo. I looked in the dirty linen basket. There they were. I sniffed them – they were still wet to the touch. Heather’s juices smell and taste wonderful – not overpowering as with some women. “Bring the coffee through” she shouted up as I came down the stairs. Cheese and biscuits were on the table as I entered with the coffee. Heather was putting side plated down – but stood next to Jean not moving. I looked at her and noticed a couple of buttons undone on her blouse that hadn’t been like that before. Jean’s hand was up her skirt. She just didn’t move although still holding two plates. Henri stood and reached for the plates, placing them on the table. “Why not serve the cheese, grapes and celery as Adrienne?”
He was beside her now. “No” with quivery voice. He took her face in his hands and kissed her full on. Jean undid her skirt and it slid to the floor revealing black hold-ups and panties. Henri was undoing her blouse. I was sat stroking my cock under the table.
“Let’s clear the table” Jean suggested.
“Fuck that, let’s go to the lounge” Heather replied. Blouse unbuttoned, flapping as she went she held Jean and Henri by the hand and marched through the hall to the lounge. It took me a moment or two to collect myself and follow. Heather’s blouse was on the floor by the door. Her bra over the back of the sofa. Henri one side and Jean the other sat on the sofa, each with a boob to play with. She was taking it in turns kissing them. Jean was rubbing her clit through her panties and she was thrusting her hips to meet his movement. She pulled back from a kiss and cried out in painful orgasm. Jean and Henri were ripping their cloths off as Heather recovered, oblivious to my presence. She sat up and grabbed Henri’s cock as it bounced out of his pants. Greedily she took it in her mouth, frantically waving her other hand towards Jean attempting to hold his cock. Alternately she wanked and sucked both cocks. She stopped monetarily. “Ian, condoms”.
“Jacket pocket” Henri. I found a pack in his jacket and brought them through. Henri was first to dress. While Heather sucked and lapped away on Jean’s cock – interestingly, their cocks were similar in shape to their owners – Jeans throbbing, veins protruding and thick, Henri’s much longer but thinner – Henri went on his knees and pushed Heather back on the sofa pulling her panties to one side he exposed her tight hairless cunt and wasted no time in going down on her. Soon she stopped sucking on Jean but held his meat tight as she screamed again, her other hand holding Henri’s head to her pussy. Henri eased her bum off the sofa and pulled her panties off. Without asking, he mounted her. Jean was ignored as he rammed into her, groping her boobs, pulling at her nipples as she held his arse and pulled him towards her. He stopped and told her to turn around. She ended up on the floor on her knees with Henri shagging her doggy whilst she wanked and licked at Jean. Henri needed a rest and withdrew. Heather quickly pounced on Jean “Now you’re turn”. She motioned for him to turn sideways on the sofa, she climbed up and mounted him. Henri started rubbing her toned stocking clad legs while wanking himself. Rested he went behind her and climbed upon the sofa. Suddenly Heather stopped thrusting , her face screwed up in pain “Slowly Henri” as he inched up her arse. Gradually after Jean popped out a couple of times, they got their rhythm right. “Where do you want me to come?” Henri.
“Ian” Heather said.
“Wherever you fancy but condoms on inside her”. He withdrew, stood and rushed to her side. From behind I saw condom in his hand, his buttocks clenched and I moved around for a better view. She was letting Jean thrust into her whilst she turned her attention to Henri. She’s brilliant at this bit. She so slowly wanks his cock holding the end softly in her mouth playing with the head with her tongue. I knew his balls would implode as she tugged him dry. From all the noise he made and whatever he said in French I think I was right. He pulled back and bend down to kiss her on the head. She smiled, looked and me and dribbled out all his come down her face and onto her boobs, wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and was now back to grinding her clit against Jeans pubic bone. It wasn’t long before he was ready to shoot. She could sense it and that brought her to her third orgasm of the evening. Jean practically lifted her off, she rolled over and he whipped of his condom and offered his throbbing knob to her for her to suck and lick. As she had with Henri, her technique took time but with explosive results. Jean thrust and moved about, his cock out of her mouth spurting spunk all over her face and chest.
Cheese forgotten, we had coffee, brandy and a smoke. Heather followed me to the kitchen as I went for ash trays. Covered in spunk she hugged me and said “Kiss me you bastard”. I thought “Ugh” but did anyway. “You’re not going to get much sleep tonight when they leave” she informed me.
Back in the lounge Heather sat between our French guests, took a cock in each hand and awoke their Amor. The shagged again, this time with Jean inside her cunt and Henri probing her alimentary canal. Heather enjoyed that part – two cocks coming together up her two holes. I live in hope of a repeat at some point. They dressed and the taxi collected them about three in the morning. Heather was right. We shagged and shagged until the door bell rang about eight. Heather came back to bed with a smile on her face. A Thank You card, bottle of Calvados and two dozen red roses, a dozen from each of them. “Normandy for our hols this year?” she asked.