by Fifi Flowers
He didn't care if I wanted to talk about it or not. I could hear an urgent demand for more in his voice. His hand gripped my arms as he asked, “Was the party in Paris?”
“No,” I said as I started rattling off simple answers as the night events began to play back in my mind: “It was outside of Paris. In a chateau. It was a beautiful place. Gowns, tuxedos and everyone wore masques. Champagne was flowing...” my voice trailed off softly.
Evan grew quiet as he rubbed his brow, for the moment, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he asked, “Was it a masked ball?”
Shaking my head slowly, I was wondering why he couldn't let this questioning end and how do I tell him the truth about the kind of event I attended? “Oh mon dieu. I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please.”
Again, my plea went unnoticed, “Were you drunk, bébé? You and your champagne...?”
Was I drunk? If I tell him I was drunk then it would make sense that I would do this? Is that to be my excuse? But I wasn't drunk. I knew what I was doing. “A bit tipsy, maybe. Lily and I drank lots of bubbly and danced.” I looked straight ahead and slightly shook my head as I waited for his next question.
Now it was Evan whose voice was filled with pleading, “Did you meet this masked man dancing? Please, bébé,” he said softly, his lips brushed against my cheek, his breath hot with desire. “Trust me. Tell me all of it.”
I was surprised, caught off balance by his response. I felt something rising in me as I turned my face to him. “No. It was nothing like that.” I told him slowly, “Lily disappeared for a bit. When she returned, she dragged me off to a game room. A group of men and women were playing a truth or dare, spin the bottle kind of game. Lily insisted I play.” I paused to gauge his reaction while this feeling, a tension, continued to build in me. “Lily got an easy question. I, however, got a dare; an encounter with a stranger.”
I felt his eyes blazing into me, burning my skin. “Yes, bébé. Tell me about your stranger...” he whispered. Lifting my wrist to his lips, he brushed them against my skin and in that moment what had been building in me broke through to the surface as a rush; an erotic heat pulsed through my veins.
My cheeks were flushed with a hot blush as I continued. “I was lead down a dark hallway. My mask was removed and replaced with another one. I could not see at all with the new mask. Then a door opened. A voice told me someone was waiting for me inside and to walk straight ahead. I stood still unsure of what to do. A hand on my back lightly nudged me in. The door closed behind me.”
Evan closed his eyes as my story continued.
“A voice said 'come here' in French. I walked forward toward the voice, but as I did, I stumbled on something on the floor and ended up fall into a man's arms. Against his bare chest.”
A low deep growl slipped through Evan's lips. “He kissed you?” he whispered.
“Yes,” barely escaped my throat.
He opened his eyes and looks into mine.” Did you like it?”
Again, all I could get out was “Yes.”
Evan…
“OKAY, BÉBÉ. NOW it's my turn,” I said softly as I ran my thumb down her hot cheek.
“I'm not sure I want to hear about you with a stranger...” she said, although her voice was deep and full, just like it was after I'd taken her.
I cut Melissa off and slowly began my story. “She was trembling as she ran her hands over my chest. I rubbed her arms. I whispered sweet things to her in French. I kissed her until she moaned and opened her mouth up to me. I deepened the kiss. She relaxed, wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me closer to her. I reached around her and untied her dress. It slid to the floor. All that remained on her body were panties tied on each hip. I yanked one tie and then the other and put the panties in my pocket.”
Melissa gasped as the pieces began to fall together. “Oh mon dieu!”
I nod as a small grin tugged at my lips. I gently swept back her hair and pressed my lips to her ear, whispering “Do you want to hear more?”
She nods her head and whispered back, “Oui.”
“I pulled her up next to me, grinding into her so she could feel how excited I was. Then I guided her to the bed, kissing and biting her as we moved. I laid her back on the bed and began devouring her body with my mouth. I grabbed her hips abruptly, pulling her to the edge of the bed, draping her legs over my shoulders. I licked her folds over and over with my tongue. I placed two fingers inside of her, fucking her with my fingers until she screamed, 'oh mon dieu.' As she was climaxing, the door opened briefly, and I could see a glimmer of her blonde hair. I moved away from her to lock the door. I heard her moving. I told her, 'ne pas bouger, rester sur place,' and she was still. I dropped my pants and moved back to her.” I stop and look at Melissa. Her eyes are closed. “Shall I continue, bébé?”
“Yes, please. Oh, Evan...” I could tell by her hardened nipples she liked this story.
“I walked to the bed and told her to get on her hands and knees. I joined her on the bed, moving my hard cock to her pussy. I toyed with her a little, slapping my cock across her pussy. I could feel her juices dripping on me. She whimpered, 'Please. S'il vous plaît, monsieur.' Slowly, I slid into her tight pussy.” I paused in my story, “You're panting, bébé. You like hearing this?”
“Mmmm. Yes. Oui. Could you show me what you did instead?” She purred, moving closer to me and I felt one of her beautiful breast graze my arm.
I laughed softly and growled at her. “Yes but first, you need this.” She opened her heavily lidded eyes to look. “Close your eyes, bébé.” I put the sleeping mask over her eyes, she moaned, and I lead her to the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.” She quickly removed all of her clothes as I did the same. Guiding her on to the bed, I tell her, “Get on your hands and knees - Obtenez sur vos mains et genoux.” Positioning her close to the edge of the bed, I slid into her extremely wet pussy. “Mmmm. You're so wet for me. My story turned you on?”
“Oui, monsieur.” She pushed back toward me, wanting me deeper inside of her. Reaching over her, I grasped her erect nipples, twisting and pulling them. “Harder.” She moaned.
“I remember hearing that from the woman I was fucking.” I pound into her, giving her every inch. Letting go of one nipple, I rubbed her clit and commanded her, “Come now.” Just as she did in that very dark room years ago, she contracted around my cock and I released screaming her name.
“I don't remember you saying my name, Mr. French Mystery Man,” I heard in a breathless whisper.
“I didn’t know your name, bébé.” I said pulling out of her, and dragging her beautiful body up the cool silky cotton sheets and into my arms. “I don't hear you begging me for 'more' like you did that night.” I whispered, biting her neck then licking the same glorious spot.
“Oh,” she moaned giving more access to her neckline, “But I do want more. Pleeeease. Pleeeease, monsieur.” Turning in my arms, she grabbed my hair, pulling me close, claiming my mouth, panting against my lips, “Fuck me. Oh mon dieu. Fuck me now.”
Still hard, I moved back into her, sliding in and out slowly, wanting to caress her pussy with my hard cock. “Oh bébé... bébé,” I growled, grinding against her, rotating my hips, wanting to make her purr.
“Mmmm. J'adore. Don't stop,” she met me movement for movement, moaning and panting.
Needing to taste her sweet lips, I covered her mouth with mine and our tongues swirled and slid together, imitating our bodies, until we peaked and released together.
I loved being inside of her. Not wanting to leave her body yet, I rolled us to the side and we remained entwined, holding on to each other tightly. “I can't believe that that was you that magical night in Paris, but it makes sense. From the first time I was with you, I couldn't get enough, I wanted more and more of you, but you were taken away from me. When I found the bed empty, I was crushed. I knew you were it for me, and there would never be anyone like you.” I ran my hands up and down the side of her body memorizing every inch, looking int
o her beautiful face.
Staring back at me with such intensity and a bit of sadness she said, “I didn't want to leave. I loved what you did to me. I wanted more. I wanted to be wrapped around you forever. Never had I felt the way I felt in your embrace. I was stretched out, remembering every delicious move, every yummy caress, when Lily waltzed in the door. She insisted we must leave immediately. She helped me find my clothes, got dressed; all except for my panties. I asked her to let me say goodbye, but she said absolutely not dragging me away while you were in the bathroom. I'm sorry I left you.”
“I still have your panties,” I winked at her and then continued, “You never showed up at the cafe the next day.”
“Your parents called that next morning. I left Paris. You know the rest,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Was that your first sex masquerade ball?” I stroked one of her nipples waiting for her answer, hoping it was her first and last time at the chateau.
“One and only. I suspect Lily still attends them. Actually, I don't think that was her first encounter. She was pretty comfortable, and I think people knew her. We've never talked about that night after she apologized profusely.”
“I don't think I want to know the answer to that same question, but had you been to one of those sex parties before?” She inquired with a skeptical brow.
“No, bébé. That's not really my thing. My friends dragged me along. That was my one and only too. I didn't plan to have sex with you. I got a dare to kiss a stranger, like you.”
Melissa took a deep breath. “My dare was actually to fuck a stranger.”
“I'm glad you followed through.” I said with an uninhibited growl, nibbling her ear and kissing her cheek. “When you came in the room, I was drying my shirt with a towel. Someone had spilled champagne on me.”
“So you didn't have your shirt off, ready for your mystery woman?” she asked with a playful smile.
“No, but when you fell into my arms, and started rubbing your hands on my chest, a simple kiss wouldn't satisfy me,” I said drawing her bottom lip into my mouth.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as I ran my tongue along her lush lip and added, “Suddenly, I don't feel like such a slut, knowing it was you.”
“I love that slutty girl. She starred in many of my fantasies over the years,” I winked at her.
“Me too,” she said with a sexy as hell little giggle, “but I thought you were French.”
“I thought you were French as well. You understood and responded to all of my commands,” I said struggling to finish our conversation, wanting to fuck her desperately.
When “I love your commands, monsieur,” escaped her lip that was the end of our conversation.
I growled and rolled on my back, taking her with me before impaling her on my hard cock. As I brought her down hard on me again and again and my hips moved up to meet her, I whispered, “Now I know why I felt that electrical charge run through my body. Why your touch was so familiar that day you touched me at the photo shoot. You had already been mine. I will never lose you again.”
“I will always be yours. I love you, Evan.” she whispered back.
“Oui, Melissa, you are mine, and I am yours. I will love you forever.”
One Year Later...
I WAS GETTING ready for an evening out. It was a cold, crisp night, but it would not keep us from venturing out into the December night. We had reservations at Evan's friend Luc-Julien’s lovely new restaurant in the city. The holidays were upon us, and in the distance I could hear the sound of Christmas carols being played on the piano. I loved to hear Evan play. I closed my eyes and could picture him sitting at the piano in our living room that had once again been transformed for the holidays with a beautiful Christmas tree and dozens of poinsettias. This was the first year in a long while that I actually have the holiday spirit, and I was looking forward to celebrating. Speaking of celebrating, in a few days Evan and I will celebrate our wedding anniversary. So much has happened in our first year together.
After enjoying our honeymoon, and ringing in the New Year in Paris, it seemed as if our feet were never in one place for very long. This was to be the year that Evan really made a name for himself around the world, so around the globe we went.
Although I had resigned my position at McDimel-Sanders, Evan and I continued to work with them. He was still doing projects with two of the agency’s clients, so we decided to use them to launch and market a new line of Evan Duke fashionable men’s products. Jane began working with us at first, but without me in the art department with her every day she had been looking for her ticket to Hollywood. I wasn't surprised when she packed her bags six months later and headed out west. I have enjoyed working closely with Evan sketching his clothing line ideas. And fortunately, his sister agreed to manufacture and showcase the Evan Duke line through her Jennifer Crandall Studio. We also started a foundation and a portion of product sales were given to various charities that we felt very strongly about.
Nine months after our wedding, our little angel girl, Emma Camille Crandall, was born. She looked like Evan: dark hair and magnifique blue eyes. And just like her famous model father, she has graced the pages of a few magazines with Evan. I have managed to stay out of most of their photo shoots beside our one-time family cover shot to announce her birth. For as long as I can remember I have always attempted to stay out of the limelight. I never wanted anyone to know I was an heiress. And what do I do, I fall in love and marry a male supermodel whose profession included being captured publicly. Luckily, Evan knew I had no desire to be splashed across magazine covers, and he turned down many requests to be photographed with me in our home. He was very private about our personal life and would not comment about our family life. We also agreed that Emma would only be photographed in her infant stage with him. I loved to look at them together, especially when I caught them napping on the sofa; Evan on his back and Emma curled up on his chest. I had Lily do a painting from one of those moments I captured on film.
As soon as we found out I was pregnant, Evan persuaded our neighbors to sell off a portion of their apartment that had once been part of our apartment. He worked hard with an architect and Isabelle to design a nursery and art studio for me. I still wasn’t sure about Isabelle, especially after hearing her mutter “shotgun wedding” as I walked down the aisle, but she did a beautiful job for us. It was princess perfect, just as Evan envisioned. My art studio was a dream come true, and my incredible husband kept it stocked with canvases, paper, pencils, pens and paint. I never had to order supplies. They were magically replenished as soon as they were used. When I was not sketching for Evan, I was secretly working on paintings. I say “secretly” because I have never shown them to anyone; not even Evan. Someday I would share them. But, for the moment, they were my private treasures.
Three original Lily paintings now adorn the walls in our home. Oui, we finally received the painting Evan and I posed for, and it hangs in our bathroom; visible from the tub and shower. Lily selected a photo of us entwined on an ottoman in front of a window with a view of Paris. It came out beautifully. I smiled at the painting tonight as I put the finishing touches on my makeup. I was standing in a sexy, black, lace bra with matching thong and garters when my handsome man entered our bathroom and met my eyes in the mirror. My heart raced as I smiled back into his pools of blue.
“What are you staring at, ma cherie?”
“Us,” I smiled, directing my eyes toward the artwork I love so much. “I was just thinking about when we posed for that painting.” Evan turned to look and then drew his attention back to me.
“Mmmm. How about we re-enact it. Our reservations aren't for an hour. Emma just fell asleep, and Jennie will be here in thirty minutes.” Evan moved up right behind me, wrapping his arms around me, nibbling my neck and caressing my nipples. I moaned, and he whispered into my ear. “I need you, bébé.” I could feel him hard and ready, pressing into my backside.
I spun around in his arms and pressed my
lips to his mouth. “Oh, but monsieur, you need to buy moi dinner first.” I grinned into his lips
He gave me a wicked smirk and raised an eyebrow. “You're going to torture me?”
“Oui. Good things come to those who wait someone once told moi. Get a shower,” I lightly pushed him away.
I turned back to the mirror and watch as his amazing hard body came into view as he headed toward the shower. I was tempted to give him what he wanted, but I knew we would never make it out the front door if I did. “I better make it a cold one,” he commented looking at me in the mirror before he stepped in the shower and I giggled.
By the time Evan was showered and dressed, I had slipped into a knee-length black lace dress with a cream fitted bodice visible beneath the lace; it gave the illusion that I was naked under the lace. “You look beautiful, bébé. Very sexy.” He made me melt when he lifted my hand to his mouth and slid his lips over the inside of my wrist while staring straight into my eyes. I never got tired of that.
“Merci. You are quite handsome yourself.” I smiled at him in his three-piece suit black suit with a white shirt, black tie and striped pocket square. Unconsciously, I licked my lips.
“Are you undressing me with your eyes, bébé?” he asked, flashing me one of his sexy, pouty model poses.
With a deep intake of breath and naughty grin, I answered, “Maybe.”
“I may have to spank you later.” I giggled, and he pulled me into him for a deep, passionate kiss making me moan. Just about everything he did to me made me hot for him.
Pulling away from me, “We better leave immediately. The sooner we get this evening over the sooner, the sooner we can come home, and I can have my wicked ways with you.”
“Monsieur, you do not want a night out with moi?” I said batting my eyelashes.
He laughed, drawing me in for one last hug and chaste kiss on the forehead he answered, “Of course I do, bébé, I promise this will be a night you won't forget.”
