The Labyrinth of Passion (romantic experiences)

by Charles Westmont

  He could see in the mirror that her eyes were shut, her lips parted taking short breaths, her complexion pink from the pleasure. She carried on, totally ignoring him. “Go little doggy, sniff and lick your mom.” She was moving faster and faster. Etienne’s face was taking the full pressure of her weight. He began lifting her butt, to take the occasional puff of air. She let out a loud scream, a rare occurrence in their love bouts and fell forward, immobile.

  She came to life after several minutes, yet still panting. Without a word, she turned to the organ that had resumed a resting position. “How I love my little baby. Sorry I was too busy to give you attention.” And she proceeded to return the courtesy.

  Etienne was blessed with a strait and retractable organ that would start from a two inches at rest and transform into an average six inches dart with a reasonable diameter. It wore the light color of his skin, turning slightly darker while it grew. Most of Etienne’s lovers had commented on its appeal. They enjoyed particularly his prepuce that would outsize the rest of the organ, when in erection. It locked inside to provide additional grinding of the uterus walls. It was certainly the work of a loving mother that had kept dilating the foreskin, so that in any position, it remained uncovered. “Always tasty and clean!” had commented a satisfied customer.

  A few weeks passed, when Etienne decided to activate for Justine the false scenario he had devised to increase her jealousy. “I heard from Heloise” he said when he returned from a meeting. She called, to announce a visit to Paris.”

  “Heloise?” she said, the Heloise!”

  Etienne purposefully ignored her in order to let the message sink in. “We should get ready. I would like to leave for the Loire Valley before the heavy weekend traffic.”

  The Marathon

  It was raining all the way from Paris. The lovers settled at Hotel Gouin at Place Plumereau. As usual, Etienne did not make reservations and they were fortunate to take the last room available. It was a very small room, mostly enclosed in a dormer.

  The city of Tours is called ‘Le Jardin de la France’. Several parks adorned the city spreading between two rivers, the Loire to the north and the Cher to the south. The city is famous for its original medieval district, ‘le Vieux Tours’. Unique to the Old City are its preserved half-timbered buildings and la Place Plumereau, a square surrounded with pubs and restaurants.

  The bells of the cathedral struck twelve times, when Etienne sat up on the bed. He had to gather all his willpower to open his eyes. A sunray was shining through the dormer window lighting the wall ahead. “Good heavens, it is past noon,” he said out loud, “Justine wakeup, I promised that we would leave the room by twelve o’clock.” When he emerged from the bathroom, he saw her still asleep. She had been totally irresponsive, oblivious to his demands. She lay uncovered, there were no sheets in sight.

  “Well, if I recall, the last round of our love bout was ending with the bell striking ten times, my poor darling is a technical knockout.” With malicious compassion, he began caressing her hairline, just at the edge of her face, then letting his lips drop to beckon at her eyelids. A light murmur intensified, when his lips moved along her cheeks to her ear lobe, lingering and floating around, lost in her hair.

  “Am I dreaming?” she whispered. He rolled over, warming her body delicately with his own. Like magnet and metal, they fused together for a moment. They could share in their chest that sense of void that every pore in their body was longing for, with the intensity of it being never enough. He pulled up and pinched her arm, “Come on! I crave for you, but we must get out of here.” These words did not reflect the frustration in his groin, calling for a very different outcome.

  She remained behind him, when Etienne approached the reception desk, to settle the account. “We overslept, your bed was too comfortable.” The attendant could no repress a smile, seeing these two totally exhausted characters barely standing. She refrained however from calling an ambulance. They struggled, hand in hand, toward the exit. Etienne noticed a scruffy bearded gentleman sitting in the lobby that appeared quite interested in them. He accelerated his pace to get to the car.

  On the way to back to Paris, Etienne was reliving in technicolor the film of their long love-making marathon. His hand instinctively lingering on the flesh of her thigh. It all started when they were settling in the minute bedroom. “I am hungry!” Justine cried. Etienne turned to respond. “Shut up! I do not need an answer,” and she moved on him in a passionate embrace.

  “You are the meal, I am craving for,” she mumbled, “I am hungry enough to eat you whole.” Etienne was the helpless victim of a kissing session that lasted close to an hour, first standing up and then propelled on the bed. He would come out for air, but she would attack again with more and more ferocity. “Shut up! She repeated, I do not need answers, my lips need your silent attention and surrender,” and she would carry on her kissing with merciless intensity. “Tonight my lord you are mine to abuse.”

  The cathedral bells rang twenty one times. Justine pushed Etienne away and pulled her shirt over her head, breasts darting at him. She stretched to open the dormer window. Holding the guard rail, she lifted her upper body to observe the city square sprawled on her right, two stories below. Etienne came from behind and noticed an interested spectator in the window across the narrow alley that extended only a few feet in width before opening up onto the square. The observer looked so close that, with a slight stretch of the arm, they could shake hands. Etienne stood on the side, hiding from view. His hands began a gentle but not entirely discreet brushing over her exposed chest. Justine, while concentrating on the late afternoon action in the plaza, had taken in, from the corner of her eye, the lasting assiduity of the spectator. Beginning a delicate sway, she kept her eyes away from the intruder, but her lips parted slightly to signal appreciation. Two darting nipples were telltale of her mounting exhilaration from the teasing performance. While he could not see Justine’s face, Etienne could feel her heartbeat accelerating. He removed his hands from her breasts and let himself slide to the floor. He sat in reverse to bring his face inside her open thighs. He began to lick, suck and nibble at her bud with growing fever. Justine turned to face her audience. She could see the young man’s hand quite busy at his crotch. It only took a few minutes before Justine let a sigh announcing victory. Etienne pulled himself up just in time to catch Justine blowing a kiss into the evening mist.

  The cathedral bell struck twenty two times. “Wow! It is already ten o’clock. We will never find a restaurant open.”

  Justine was wearing her meanest look, “Shut up your Excellency, she intoned, you will not think of food again before morning.” She pushed him on the bed and joined him. They lay calm in a tight hug in sensual harmony.

  It took little time to Etienne to fall into a recuperating sleep. Justine pulled herself back, just enough to observe his face. For close to one hour, she remained still, warming his sleep with her body. Then she could not restrain the call from innermost demands for immediate soothing.

  Etienne was dreaming that he was lying in the warm sand on the beach of Assini on the Gulf of Guinea on the border of Ghana and the Ivory Coast. The Gulf of Guinea is the northeastern most part of the Atlantic ending in Gabon and Liberia. Etienne remained very fond of his stays in Western Africa. Over the years, he was fortunate to develop unique relationships, when pursuing his exploration of the African countries and territories. Seeking private moments away from his professional activities, he would drive the motorboat on the Laguna from Abidjan his African headquarters toward Assini. He would settle in a compound serviced by a native family that was discreetly occupying a little village behind his hut. The accommodation was at a minimum. The hut had two openings a window and a door, to allow an occasional breeze from the ocean and a floor covered with mats. The mercury remained stable within a few degrees around twenty seven centigrade and the sun always rose at six am to set at six pm. The evenings were decorated by an infinite number of stars that only the equatori
al sky can offer. To Etienne, Assini was heaven on earth offering him a full communion with the universe.

  The late hour African sun was brushing his face and he could sense the balmy aroma of vanilla and honey. Justine, determined to control her pressing internal demands, was attempting great restraint while she was grazing his face with her pussy. Her attention was captured by Etienne’s flaccid appendage resting on his thigh. She could not withhold her lips in their sudden offensive to capture the helpless victim. She proceeded to swallow the innocent, Etienne awoke to the play. It took him a brief moment to make sense of the scenes erupting between dream and reality. The agile grinding of her well lubricated love bud over his nose was invading most of his attention. His mind was tilting blank with anticipation, when it became clear that his crotch could be confronted with the possibility of the ablation of an important member. She began to quiver immersed in her pleasure. His mind warned him to withhold and he went into the painful effort of ordering his body to pull back from eruption. She collapsed over his face but came to and rose before the count of ten, saved by the cathedral bell of twenty three strokes.

  The car was turning to the Orleans–Paris highway, torrential rain was drumming on the Peugeot. Justine was sleeping. Etienne’s right hand was over her left thigh. He was concentrating on the difficult drive and his soul was fulfilled by the stroking of her softness. The daydreaming of the evenings exploits was getting him more and more excited and he let his hand slide up her thigh to begin a caress. An unequivocal response brought his hand back to rest on her thigh and Justine returned to her sleep. He drove on, reviewing the next chapter of the long love marathon.

  The bell stroke twenty four times. They awoke wrapped in a hug. Etienne captured her lips and they rolled on the bed until they fell on the floor laughing. Etienne placed his hand on her mouth and let his penis penetrate the welcoming orifice beginning a missionary attack, a memory of his catholic upbringing. Concerned that he had enough cardio exercise, she rolled over him and began his and her favorite crotch rubbing. Etienne was aroused by the pleasure sculpting her lovely face, attenuated by the moonbeam filtering through the dormer. She moved on his crotch sometimes languorously sometimes ferociously. As Etienne was ejaculating, he heard the bell strike twice. Justine collapsed over him already sleeping.

  Etienne heard the last stroke of the five am bell, when he felt Justine unlocking from their embrace. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she murmured opening the door. She walked to the second floor common toilet. A malicious smirk lit up Etienne’s face. He wrapped a towel around himself and moved out to follow Justine in the hallway. He pulled the key in his hand and locked the door. He proceeded quietly to the lower floor toilet.

  Justine came out and walked to the door of the bedroom. Turning the knob, she understood after a few tries that it was locked. She knocked gently, calling for Etienne. There was no answer. “He must have fallen back to sleep.” She placed her ear on the door. No noise, no movement. She sat on the floor her back against the door. “I should have put something on. Let’s hope that he will awake before someone shows up.” She could hear snoring in an adjacent room. “I may be knocking at the wrong door,” she wondered, “I could swear that I am at the right place. Etienne will come out when he finds out that I am not in the room.”

  Etienne had climbed the steps at a turtle’s pace attempting to avoid the creaking noises from the old stairwell. He saw her sitting against the bedroom door, holding her legs, her back to him. He crawled on all fours. She did not sense his arrival. Etienne released his smirk and took a tender yet firm bite at her neck, hair and all. She could not contain a scream from the shock of the surprise. While she remained sitting, Etienne began running his fingers from her neck down along her spine stopping before the crevice and beginning to climb the same route. After a few laps, he could discern an uplift of her upper body to counter his expedition accompanied by a surprisingly controlled sigh. “This is a satisfied customer,” he surmised. “No refund necessary.”

  Etienne pulled Justine by the hand and guided her to the door of an adjacent room. He lifted her hand to hold the door sill. Justine could feel the pressure of her body pressed against the door. Etienne whispered, “Do not make too much noise or he will wake up and come to the door.” Justine was attempting to contain her apprehension at hearing the loud snoring coming from inside the room. Etienne continued the gentle caress with his lips on the same path and back. Her arousal was enough to make her forget her anxiety. The willing captive was breathing heavily, so was the tormentor, who was catching quickly to her rhythm. The edges of the love abyss were faintly tampered with when Justine began jolting.

  The bedroom door opened held ajar by the security chain. Etienne could make out in the semi darkness a large bearded man. “What the hell is happening?” said the man. Etienne pulled Justine and ran to his bedroom, He whispered, “sorry sir, we came to the wrong room, our mistake.” Etienne was unlocking the door of their bedroom. They could not contain their giggles. Etienne saw the burly guy come out of the door. He pushed Justine inside the room. “You are quite a pest to put me through such an ordeal,” she stood on her toes rewarding his prowess with a smile and a kiss. The bell tower rang six times. They finally settled to sleep.

  The caress of the warm mid-morning sun rose between the curtains bathing Justine face. She turned and opened an eye to see her lover sleeping peacefully. The tableau was enough to fill her insides with butterflies. She never had enough of the opportunity to observe his face without disruptions. She lay still, her arm holding her head, and let her soul immerse in the soothing balm of love. The bell rang nine times to interrupt her meditation. She noticed that a tent like structure had arisen from the sheet covering Etienne. She turned her attention to the undercover intruder and her head slipped under the sheet. Her lips surrounded the prey as her tongue licked around the irresistible banner. Getting no response from the landlord, her teeth captured the prey and began a quiet attack. The pleasurable elation pulled Etienne from sleep. He remained still to avoid disturbing the intruder. It took all his inner powers to resist reacting, but after a while, he could not hold back the volcano. A fuzzy blonde mop surfaced from the bed sheet. Justine was licking her lips. Without a word she slipped beside him and sucking her thumb she fell asleep. Etienne heard the bell strike ten times and echoed “Wow! This is a lot of lovemaking,” he murmured diving back into sleep. Arrival at the hotel pulled Etienne from his daydream.

  Hideaway in Brassac

  Etienne would enjoy taking a week away from work to settle in the special haven of Justine’s grandfather’s bastides in Brassac. The lovers could concentrate on each other in the enchanting environment of Aquitaine. The fifteen acre estate was surrounded by flower gardens, a sous-bois and high stone walls providing all the privacy needed to tend to their needs.

  When they played house, they were able to complement their bed prowesses with lounging outdoors in the sun. The warming effect of direct sunrays was a powerful erogenous stimulant on Justine body, to the delight of her attentive lover. They would escape from the house for bicycle and rollerblade rides. They had a quasi-unlimited access to a large number of historical country byroads. At every turn of the road, they discovered villages, each one prettier that the last. Castles, chateaux, churches, bastides and cave fortresses of the Périgord region were preserved for centuries. A large number of these wonderful villages still have their original Middle Ages market halls, dovecotes, stone huts, churches, abbeys and castles. They were a strong stimulant for Etienne’s romantic passion.

  It became a habit for Etienne to search for new toys that would enhance his lover’s pleasure. Returning from a business trip, he was visiting a sex shop at Schiphol between flights. Holland was a Pandora’s Box for gadgetry of all types. He enquired from the pretty sales lady about various vibrators and other erotic enhancers. “I think I may have something special for your girlfriend,” she said. She opened a cabinet and presented a little black box with red Chine
se markings. “These are called Chinese balls. They are made from an ancient secret mandarin formula. Inside the ball, we suspect, is a heavy liquid with the density of mercury and a smaller ball floating freely. The balls are magnetized and bipolarized to attract and escape from each other, when activated by motion. When they are placed inside the vagina, they react to the slightest movement. They begin to turn inside, chasing and banging on each other and everything around. They will not stop their wild dance until the body returns to be perfectly still. The legend goes that they were developed at the express request of a Chinese Emperor. The Emperor maintained a large harem populated by hundreds of mistresses and eunuchs. The mistresses were the exclusive property of the Emperor and were captives protected by the eunuchs. The balls were developed to keep the mistresses satisfied. They would stimulate and maintain erotic desires, so that they were ready at all times to respond to imperial desires.”

  Etienne could already anticipate Justine’s pleasure. “Sold! he exclaimed without a second thought, but I would be reassured by a demonstration.” The saleslady began to laugh, “You really are a pervert. I would happily oblige, if you would join me after work. In any event, I have tried the merchandise and I promise that your lady will enjoy.”

  “Why not go rollerblading instead of biking this afternoon,” Etienne suggested, hiding a touch of malice in his request. “You know that for some unexplainable reason, I have grown to prefer biking,” Justine replied pouting. Etienne pulled the little box that he had hidden in the night table. “Let us experiment,” Etienne suggested. Justine opened the little box and took the tiny ball in her hand. “They are quite heavy for their size and they seem to have a life of their own trying to escape my grip, how strange!” Etienne pulled her blanket away. He opened her thighs and taking the balls from her hand, he pushed them inside her pussy. She shivered from the contact with the cold metal. “Stand up and walk around the room.” Justine stood and whatever was happening inside her, she began laughing. Etienne saw her squirm and her face revealed a pleasurable glow. She promptly returned to bed, but her laugh was replaced by an alternance of laments and cries. Etienne rose to look at her face and saw that she was taking her pleasure. She pulled the balls out of her crotch. “Wow! I will have a second serving sir,” she whispered catching her breath. “Well, wait a second little girl, this is a gift with a special purpose, only to be used when roller blading.” She jumped over him and began a long kiss. They made love and fell asleep.