French Kissing: Season One

by Harper Bliss

  “Three,” Dominique said, before tilting her head back and gulping down more wine. They only had two nights left together and it was starting to sting.

  Steph’s mouth fell open. “Three?”

  “Makes you look like a bit of a slut, doesn’t it?” Dominique pinched her little toe.

  “But… only three?” Steph shook her head. “No way.”

  “It’s true.” Dominique lightly ran her fingertips over Steph’s shin. “Luc, my first boyfriend. We broke up just before I entered university. Then there was Murielle.” She slanted her head and glanced at Steph through hooded eyelids.

  Steph nodded. She knew all about Murielle. If she hadn’t found out about Murielle, she probably wouldn’t be sitting here.

  “Then I met Philippe. We married. I never strayed.” She reached for her glass again. “My life has always been so busy with work and politics, then the kids came along…”

  “Did you and Philippe have a satisfying—”

  “You want to discuss my marriage now?” Steph felt Dominique tense. She’d never really stopped to think how much the divorce must have hurt Dominique. She knew she’d been the rebound person, neither one of them having expected it to last this long. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “We did—”

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” Steph was quick to say. Conversations like this made her nervous anyway.

  “It’s fine, and only fair.” Her hands rested on Steph’s knee. “Philippe and I did okay. Nothing too spectacular happened towards the end. Only logical, I guess, since he was cheating. It was, um, very different than how things are with you now.”

  Steph opened her arms wide. “Well, I am a woman.”

  “That you are.” Dominique’s hand traveled upwards, to the crotch of Steph’s bikini bottoms. “It didn’t stop you from bringing a fake penis, though.”

  “How many times.” Steph sighed. “It is not a fake penis, simply a means to an end.”

  “Shaped like a penis,” Dominique continued, two of her fingers pressing down on the fabric of Steph’s bikini.

  “If you want to use it on me, you’d better pipe down.” Steph’s breath caught in her throat when Dominique’s finger brushed against her clit.

  “So, just to be clear, I can fuck you with it now?” Dominique’s finger kept circling.

  “As if you don’t know.”

  “I’m not used to being with women, Stéphanie. You say one thing and mean another… Good thing I have a lot of political experience.” Her finger slipped under the panel of Steph’s bikini. “Jesus. You’re so wet again, babe. I’m starting to think you suffer from a serious condition. You could get dehydrated.”

  Steph stopped listening to Dominique’s teasing words. The only other woman who’d ever fucked her like that was Laurence, near the tail end of their relationship, when her trust had been the deepest—just before it had been betrayed.

  Dominique let her finger slip from underneath Steph’s bikini bottoms and started tugging at them. “Just so you know, I suffer from a condition as well, possibly incurable.” She slid her legs from underneath Steph’s and crouched down to rid Steph of her bikini. “I can’t get enough of this.” She straddled the end of the lounge chair and shuffled forward until her thighs rested underneath Steph’s knees. “Come a little closer,” she said, before leaning forward and finding Steph’s pussy lips with her mouth.

  Steph slid forward, her pelvis thrust high on Dominique’s thighs, her pussy glued to Dominique’s lips. She couldn’t stop thinking about how it would be when Dominique entered her with the strap-on. She hadn’t surrendered like that in more than ten years. Would it all end in heartbreak again?

  Dominique pushed her tongue deep into Steph’s pussy, and Steph couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Do it now,” she said. “Put it on and fuck me now.”

  Dominique let her tongue slip from Steph’s pulsing pussy. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” Steph urged, already moving her legs off of Dominique.

  “Okay, but stay here. Don’t move.” Dominique manoeuvred herself from underneath Steph.

  “What? You want to do it here?”

  “Uh-huh.” Dominique nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring everything.” She rushed inside. After they’d waved the kids off she’d put the toy ostentatiously on the middle of Steph’s bed, so she’d see what she had on her mind when she went to change. Subtlety was hardly ever a conservative politician’s strong suit.

  It took a little while before Dominique re-emerged. Did she even know how to attach all the bits right? She was a smart woman, she would figure it out.

  She wore a long blouse when she walked out of the house, the toy sticking out between the flaps of fabric at the bottom. She’d brought the bottle of lube Steph had packed as well, and a blanket, which she spread out on the patch of lawn next to Steph’s chair.

  She kneeled next to Steph. “I know I have a big mouth and I’m terribly bossy, but you do want this, don’t you? I wouldn’t want to talk you into something you don’t really want.” It was moments like this that floored Steph the most. When Dominique showed her true, loving, caring colours. When she made sure Steph knew that their affair wasn’t just a rebound fling. That it was more than acquiring as much sexual gratification in a short period of time as possible. More than an experiment.

  “I do,” Steph said. “I want you.”

  Dominique rose from her crouching position and extended her hand to Steph. Steph took it and let Dominique wrap her arms around her. She felt the toy against her legs and desire spread through her like wildfire. This was so much more than all the flings she had amassed over the years put together. Dominique kissed her while her hands found the lock of Steph’s bikini top and unhooked it. Steph stood completely naked in the garden of Xavier Laroche’s summer house, his daughter fully strapped-on in front of her. The irony of the moment didn’t escape her.

  Steph opened the sides of Dominique’s blouse, which she hadn’t bothered to button up, and looked at her lover. She etched the sight into her memory as one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.

  “Let’s lie down,” Dominique said. A solemn note had crept into her voice. This was a big deal for her as well. She shrugged off the blouse before laying down.

  Only three people? Four with herself included. Steph lowered herself onto the blanket. A light, late-afternoon breeze chased over her skin. It wasn’t even dark yet. She guessed them doing this in the bright light of day could be perceived as symbolic as well.

  Dominique flanked her, her lips on Steph’s neck, kissing her way down. Steph felt the toy press against her thigh. The feel of it made her pussy lips throb even more. She may have slept with a lot of different people since Laurence, but she’d never surrendered like this. Not since then.

  Dominique pushed herself up and lowered her body back down on top of Steph’s, the toy now pushing against Steph’s inner thighs. Dominique stared down at her, nothing but tenderness in her eyes, before finding Steph’s mouth with her lips. Steph let her hands drift down across Dominique’s back and clutched her tightly around the waist.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered in Dominique’s ear. “Fuck me.”

  Dominique planted her palms on the blanket next to Steph’s head and stretched her elbows. “Yeah?” she asked.

  Steph nodded, every cell in her body thrumming with anticipation.

  Dominique shifted her weight backwards until she sat on her knees in between Steph’s spread legs. She reached for the bottle of lube that rested near the edge of the blanket and squirted some in her hands before applying it generously to the toy. For a woman who’d only had sex with a man the past twenty years, she sure looked like she knew what she was doing. Had she prepared for this? Steph made a mental note to ask her later.

  When Dominique let her lubed up fingers flutter against Steph’s wet pussy lips, a shiver ran up her spine. Before crawling closer, Dominique rubbed the excess lube over the length of the silicone, le
tting the shaft disappear and reappear in her fist. Steph had to swallow a lump of lust out of her throat at the sight of it. Le Matin would have a field day if this ever came out. Dominique Laroche strapping it on in the backyard of Xavier’s house, stroking a silicone cock before entering her secret lesbian lover’s pussy with it, all in the clear light of day. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it came out—not like this, of course, but in a more decent way. Maybe then, they’d stand a chance.

  Steph let the thought evaporate in her mind. She shouldn’t think like that. And anyway, Dominique was coming for her now, inching closer, taking position.

  She let the slippery tip of the dildo glide up and down Steph’s pussy lips, briefly brushing it against her clit. If the hot flicker of pleasure it sent through Steph’s flesh was anything to go by, Steph was in for the climax of her life.

  Dominique looked up from between Steph’s legs and found her eyes again. Her lips were parted, her stare intense and Steph wondered if the députée would ever really be able to walk away from this. She held the toy in one hand and guided the tip to Steph’s opening, slipping it in gently.

  Instantly, Steph felt herself open up wider than she could remember. Her breath hitched in her throat, a quiet calm spreading through her muscles. She needed to relax to take this, to take in Dominique.

  Dominique slowly inched more of the toy inside of Steph, filling her so much already. She brought her weight forward again and repositioned her hands next to Steph’s cheeks, changing the angle of penetration, suddenly, seemingly, filling Steph completely.

  “Oh god,” Steph cried out, staring up into Dominique’s face. Her features were focused, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. She moved again, thrusting even deeper into Steph, who felt her pussy walls spread as wide as they’d ever had.

  Dominique held herself completely still for an instant. “Okay?” she asked.

  “Good god, yes,” Steph heard herself groan, her voice seemingly having fled her body.

  Dominique started moving inside of her, slowly at first, with tiny movements of her hips, but it felt like the world around Steph was changing already. As if the position of the sun shifted and the sky swirled around her, puffy white clouds carrying her. She spread her legs wider, inviting Dominique inside of her deeper, as deep as she could go, as much part of her as she could be.

  Steph closed her eyes and let herself be carried away further.

  “Je t’aime,” Dominique whispered, over and over again. Her thrusts came quicker, touching Steph everywhere at once so it seemed, ripping through her body, pounding in her veins.

  When Steph opened her eyes and looked into the teary brightness of Dominique’s eyes, she knew that was it. A storm rose in her blood and carried atoms of pure pleasure through her veins, prickling her flesh. She lay wide open for Dominique and for the climax she was bestowing on her—and all the rest. The love, the companionship, the sheer fun they had when they were together.

  Steph dug her nails into the flesh of Dominique’s back as she came, her breath stalling, her muscles flexing, her body dissolving underneath the wave of pleasure.

  Panting, she released her grip on Dominique, who took it as a sign to retract, gently sliding the toy from Steph’s stretched pussy lips.

  Steph couldn’t speak, only watch as Dominique loosened the straps and manoeuvred herself out of the contraption of strings as quickly as possibly, before folding her body over Steph’s again, covering her.

  “What is this between us?” she whispered in Steph’s ear. “What have you done to me?”

  Steph couldn’t say, she only knew that Dominique had done the exact same thing to her.

  NADIA

  “Spending the summer in Paris is hardly a punishment,” Juliette said. They’d met at the Place des Vosges after work for an al fresco dinner on one of the terraces along the square.

  “Fair enough.” Nadia reached for another oyster. “It’s gorgeous.” She eyed Juliette’s glass of wine with envy. She’d, again, opted to abstain, but the lowering evening sun, the balmy Paris air and, most of all, the oysters, begged for a glass of wine as accompaniment.

  The past few days had been dreamlike. The calm of August in Paris had relaxed them both, and with Claire and Steph on holiday, distractions were few and far between. They’d broken in the new bed successfully, chasing away as much of the ghost of Sybille as possible, and spent their evenings together like this. Nadia was grateful for this grace period, but she knew it wouldn’t last. The real test was yet to come.

  “Can I ask you a question that might be too serious for an evening like this?” Juliette asked before sipping from her glass.

  “Of course.” Nadia sighed. “But, babe, I think I’m going to order a glass of wine. I was born in France, half of my blood’s composition is made up of wine.”

  Juliette opened her palms to the sky. “Be my guest.”

  “You don’t mind?” Nadia looked around for a waiter.

  “I never asked you to stop drinking. That was your own choice.” Juliette grabbed an oyster from the tray and sucked it out of its shell expertly.

  A waiter appeared and Nadia ordered a glass of rosé. She hardly ever ordered wine by the glass. Usually she’d at least drink a carafe, most nights a bottle.

  “I guess I thought it would help.” She sagged back into her chair, feeling more relaxed already at the prospect of some alcohol coming her way. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “At the risk of sounding like I’m conducting a job interview.” Juliette gave a small chuckle. “But where do you see us, say, five years from now?”

  “Gosh.” Nadia was glad her wine arrived, so she could have a second to ponder Juliette’s question. She swallowed a heavenly gulp, soon followed by another. “Do you need the answer straight away or can I think about it?” Was Juliette trying to say something by asking this? They’d only just got back together.

  “We’ve spent the past ten years building a career. Barbier & Cyr is doing better than ever and you have the top job in your hospital. I guess I’m just wondering what’s next…”

  Nadia exhaled, relieved that Juliette was, rather typically, talking about work.

  “Other people have children and go through the stages of raising them, but we don’t have that in our lives. We have each other…” Juliette reached for her glass and sipped. “And our dramas and the home we’ve built, but, I don’t know, what comes after that?”

  Was Juliette asking her if this was it? They’d decided against having children a few years after they’d met, both having been much too focused on work—as well as not displaying any signs of suffering from a ticking biological clock, although it should have been ticking loud and clear by then. Juliette would be turning forty-five at the end of the year, some sort of midlife crisis could be a possibility.

  Nadia was at a loss for words. Were they, perhaps, not skipping a few steps after their reunion? “What’s brought this on?” Nadia emptied her wine glass in a few gulps and started looking around for the waiter again. Juliette could use a refill as well. They should just get a bottle.

  “The way I see it, we’ve had our relationship crisis. We’ve chosen each other, again. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Nadz. But what will that life be like?”

  “Hey.” Nadia caught the waiter’s attention. “If same-sex marriage gets approved in a few weeks we can always get hitched.” It was a joke. Nadia knew Juliette didn’t believe in a piece of paper to validate a relationship. She ordered two more glasses of wine—Juliette was drinking white while she had opted for rosé—and another tray of oysters.

  “And then we’ll each wear a ring on our finger, but everything else will be the same.”

  “What are you saying, babe? You want to adopt a child to stave off a midlife crisis?” She found Juliette’s ankle underneath the table and caught it between her legs. Nadia had proposed once, a few years after Belgium had legalised gay marriage. They’d gone to Brussels for the weekend and had e
nded up in a lesbian bar. They’d struck up a conversation with a local couple who’d just got married. Afterwards, when walking back to their hotel over the Grand Place, Nadia had turned to Juliette and said, “Maybe we should just do it, Jules. Will you marry me?”

  Juliette had burst out laughing and taken it as much more of a joke than Nadia had meant it. It had triggered a whole discussion on the merit of marriage and Juliette had carefully laid out all the reasons why she didn’t believe in it.

  “Romance is walking past the grandeur of these buildings with you, babe,” Juliette had said. “Not tying you to me legally, as if we own each other. It’s choosing to crawl into bed with you every single night because I want to, not because it’s written down in a carnet de mariage.”

  Nadia had understood, but she wouldn’t have minded becoming Juliette’s wife in the least.

  “No, just that we should consider making some changes in our lives,” Juliette said.

  The waiter placed their fresh glasses of wine on the table.

  “Like what?” A nervous fear crept up on Nadia. Had Juliette not just said that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Nadia? That she’d chosen her all over again?

  “I don’t know.” Juliette shook her head. “But it’s worth thinking about.”

  Nadia nodded. “Sure, babe.” She scanned Juliette’s face. Her features were serious, not a hint of irony in them. Perhaps, they had grown apart in more ways than they had realised.

  CLAIRE

  “Headache, dear?” Claire’s mother addressed her as if she, herself, never touched a drop of alcohol. She also seemed to bang the lid of the sugar pot back down much harder than was necessary.

  Thank goodness Steph was arriving today and they’d be driving back to Paris together after lunch. One more meal, Claire repeated to herself. One more meal.