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A French Virgin Ch. 01

Author’s note: This story is written as its own story. Two of my other stories started out as single chapters and people voted positively and emailed me lots of feedback, which caused me to write an additional chapter. If I get good strong votes and positive feedbacks on this story I will write you yet another chapter.
If you haven’t read my other works, just click on my name above for the full list.
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As I pushed my cock’s head into Veronique’s virgin asshole I suddenly felt my whole body spasm and quake. I didn’t come, but I felt it all over. A true Tantric moment. My mind had caused this one, but it was real none the less. This was a dream coming true as my cock entered her virgin asshole. Slowly I pushed, virgin territory falling all day. You see, I’d been the man that broke her hymen, her first blow job, and over recent objections, her first anal visitor. Because her mother invited me to dinner, fucked me, then asked me to fuck her daughter. I recalled her mother’s words… “I need a first lover for Roni and I want it to be you, Mr. Blaire.” Those words floated out into the cool Caribbean air and just hung there.
Okay, let me tell you the full story…
That particular Monday was special; it was the last day I’d spend as a 41 year old kid. I was now ready to move on to being a 42 year old kid. Fortunately I was spending it in St. Maarten, the Caribbean Island just to the southeast of Puerto Rico. There are any number of nude beaches on the island, and I’d spent the day on one of them, Cupecoy Beach. Mostly gazing at unattractive people flaunting their equally unattractive bodies. But there were the rare occasions when a beautiful naked or topless young French, Italian or Brazilian girl would walk past, her skin so young and alive, causing me to long for the days of my youth as a water skiing instructor at summer camp. Young girls in bikinis always make me nostalgic for summer. I’ve passed into that phase where women under 30 rarely looked at me as anything remotely sexual. Sure, there are those girls that need a daddy, and I’ve had my share of them. But I was ignored by most of them unless they want investment advice or something ‘from an older man’. Quite simply, my hair was going gray at the fringes, and I didn’t look 25 any more.
So the afternoon took a decided upswing when, while removing a cold Kronenbourg beer from my cooler, a beautiful naked young girl fell in the sand next to me smiling, asking for two of my beers. I opened one and handed it to her. She was skinny and thin, not gorgeous and far from ugly. Cute, in a smiling, laughing way that projected energy, youth and vitality. “Who is the second one for?” I asked, figuring it was her equally young boyfriend.
“My mother is there,” she pointed, “and we’ve both run out of drinks. We were just saying how wonderful a cold beer would taste just now.” She had the English that all proper French people have, and with a pure white toothed smile her face was alive and alight. More of a British version of English but lyrical to my ears.
“My name is Sean, Sean Blaire,” I said while handing her the second beer.
“I am Veronique, my mother is Angel. The gentleman that just walked up is my father,” she began to talk more in depth about her life and family. Her mother and father were divorced but always vacationed in the same resort so the three children, Veronique, Jonathon and Elsie could spend time with both of their parents away from the business of daily life. Her father turned out to be the developer of the 5 Star Resort I was staying at. They owned the penthouse unit, rumored to be all marble and immaculate. My suite was breath taking, with a stunning view of the Caribbean Sea, so theirs had to be beyond words.
She rolled onto her left hip and kept talking. I had no idea what she said for a long time. I was peering through my sunglasses at the naked body lying next to me, not three feet away yet so comfortable being there. She looked all of 16, maybe 17. Sand clung to every inch of her that it could. Her hips, breasts, pussy, neck, little sprinkles of sand everywhere. I boldly reached out and brushed some of it off her hip, and she giggled. “Mother’s not too keen on gentlemen touching me. It’s her personal quest that I remain untouched until ‘the right time’, whenever that may come.” As she continued talking she seemed proud of her virginity and her mother’s rules didn’t bother her.
“Please excuse me,” I asked, dipping my head slightly.
“No, no, your touch is nice. I’d actually like to know what the touch of a man is all about, but so far mother forbids it.”
Just as she said it her mother called to her. “Where’s my drink, Roni?” Angel shouted.
“I’ll return shortly,” shouted Veronique over her shoulder as she ran the beer to her mother. She covered the distance quickly, interrupting an argument between her divorced parents.
“Thank you,” Angel called out, drinking half the green bottle in two gulps. Angel was laying back on a lounge chair, completely naked herself. She was one of those well maintained women that were probably 50 to 55, well aerobicized, well taken care of, and hard as a rock Mom was stunning in her own way, and proud of the naked body she was showing to the small world gathered there. On a beach that was mostly filled with naked men, these two really stood out. It was a great time to be naked on the beach.
Veronique walked over, still only covered in the powdery sand, and sat down next to me. “Mother says it is good for me to talk to you verses those young boys over there.” She pointed to a group of boys I’d seen talking to her earlier, when her mother had run them off. I was glad to hear I was considered safe, but for the moment tried to cover my raging hard on. I’m sure I stared at her crotch for too long, for she turned slightly away from me and blushed.
“Where are you from, Sean?” With that we began a two hour conversation about many things. I found her to be well read but not yet well traveled. She loved Britney, though she thought she was really a slut. She’d heard of a lot of things to do in this world and was at that time in her life when she would start to do those things, but she led a totally sheltered life. A chauffer drove her to school and picked her up each day. She was chaperoned everywhere. She enjoyed some time with her best of friends, but they too led sheltered, wealthy lives. It was a world I knew nothing about. I’d had to work for everything in my life, and would always have to. When I enjoyed life, as in staying in 5 Star resorts or flying first class, it was because I’d worked hard for the privilege. I was happy with it.
When it got hot we ran into the ocean and swam a bit, then back to my little corner of the beach. Several times a wave knocked her into me, and my hands found themselves filled with a breast, or once her crotch. She would just laugh then swim a little bit away.
“So, Roni,” I started to say.
“Please, Sean, you I would prefer not to call me Roni, okay? Call me ‘V’, or Veronique, but not Roni, okay?” she asked. I wasn’t sure what to say, so passed it on by.
We spent another hour talking, then parted ways. Yet another female ‘friend’, one I’d dearly love to fuck, but she had never even looked at me in that way, and besides, I was sure she was too young for me, or I too old for her.
My date for the trip had thrown a tantrum then decided not to come at the last minute, thinking I would cancel my plans and stay home with her. Fuck that. I laid on a few drinks and flew to the islands alone. My first night on the island I met Richard and Lucy, a Brit and his Aussie girlfriend, and the three of us set off for parties as yet unknown. I was to meet them and her friend Jodie for dinner. As I opened the door to leave for dinner the assistant manager of the resort stood at my door ready to knock. “Hello,” I said.
“Mr. Blaire?”
“Yes, late for dinner, how can I help you?”
He handed me an envelope. “Mrs. Trudant, has sent you an invitation to dinner tonight, please accept. It is always a good time.” He smiled.
I opened the envelope and started to shut the door. “Thank you,” I said.
“If I could carry back a response it would be appreciated,” he said, sticking his hand into the door just before it closed, so he could keep talking to me. “ouch,” he said as I almost shut it on his hand.
It was a hand written note on fine cream colored linen paper. Her initials were engraved at the top. It simply said, “Please join me for dinner in the Penthouse at 9:00 tonight. I will be so pleased if you can make it.” It was signed, “Angel T.”
“Yes, of course I’ll join her. What is the dress code?”
“You look fine. Shall we go?” he asked. I figured I could take his word, as he was just another gay French man on an island that had its fair share of them.
She’d cut it very close, as it was almost 9:00 currently. I called my friends and found out their drinking schedule for the night, told them I’d catch up to them later, then followed Daniel out the door. I figured a few drinks, light dinner, then hit the bars for real. St. Maarten is a spread out country, and a wonderful place to be. I loved partying here. As much as I loved the Caribbean, and had been to many of its islands, I was also looking for an island to call my vacation spot. Like women, stop looking around and start enjoying one more fully.
The elevator ride was short. But Daniel, the assistant manager, was necessary because the Penthouse required a special key for the elevator. As the doors opened I understood why. The elevator opened right into the unit, there was no entryway. And what a stunning view. The sun had already set, a cruise ship was steaming into port, and the stars were lighting up the Caribbean sky. The lights of the Penthouse were dimmed so the stars had a chance to shine though. Daniel left quickly.
“Roni is the only thing I love in this world more than this home. As you know, my name is Angel. ” she held out her hand to me. I kissed it as gallantly as I could figure out. “You are Mr. Blaire?” She was dressed in a gray silk pantsuit that caressed each ounce of her skin and clung tightly to it. She was as firm as her 19 year old daughter. A truly beautiful and amazing woman for any age. Graceful, beautiful, sexual. Her nipples were jutting out of the fabric and the outline of her crotch was clearly in view through the silk.
“Sean Blaire, and thank you for the dinner invitation. May I ask why?” “My husband and three children took the plane to St. Bart’s for the evening to visit his sister. She and I aren’t the best of friends, so I stayed. I knew you would be interesting dinner company. I hope you didn’t have other plans?”
“I did, I postponed them,” I said.
“I hope they will be cancelled. I do so love a long slow dinner, don’t you?” she said.
“We all do,” I replied.
“You were kind to my youngest daughter and I want to repay the kindness with dinner.”
“Because I was there with a cold beer when you needed one?” I asked.
“Because you kept the undivided attention of my 19 year old daughter today. Anyone that can keep her engaged for that length of time has a fine story to tell. What is your story, Sean? She asked.
Dinner lasted until midnight. Their chef, a local woman, prepared lobster, fish and vegetables, accompanied by the right wines, cheeses and soups. It was truly fabulous and slow in the European tradition. But after a three hour dinner she hadn’t put the first move on me, and we simply talked. The table was set close so we could easily talk, we touched hands now and again, but nothing more. As coffee was brought, she took hers and walked out onto the deck. There is no easy way to describe the majesty of my favorite ocean on that star filled night. Three feet away from me an incredibly sensuous woman. Nearly a full moon, and the Caribbean sea was visible to us for miles. It was so bright we could see three sailboats out for a night cruise or passage.
“Sean, I can see why Roni is enchanted with you. I want to make love with you.” Directness in this family was not a problem.
I didn’t say a word. It sounded there was a “but…” coming and I didn’t want to encourage it. I generally don’t like older women but she was as alive and sexual as her daughter and the thoughts of sex with her were very good indeed. When I didn’t say anything she looked a little nervous. I remained silent, but I smiled.
She must have taken the smile to mean yes, because she undid the silk belt at her waist and pulled on one of her sleeves, revealing her left breast. She kept pulling, feeling the silk ride across each inch of her skin, revealing the other breast, falling to her waist, then the entire pantsuit was lying around her ankles. I walked to her and took her arms, just held them. She used me for support as she stepped out of the outfit, and soon all she was wearing was her spike heeled shoes. Her body was even more magnificent close up. I pulled her close and kissed her, then looked over at the clock. “They won’t return until noon tomorrow. She forces them to stay for brunch. We have hours, if you have hours?”
Her hand reached out and covered my hardening cock. Her other hand found mine and helped me unbutton my shirt, then pull off my shorts. Shoes went flying, and we were perched 12 floors above the Caribbean, naked in the breeze. What a feeling it was. She led me to the side where a low brick fireplace was lit. Aside it were, well they felt like the old bean bag chairs, only a little softer and more molding. A Playdoh water bed? As I stood there she kneeled in front of me, taking the head of my cock into her lips slowly, surely, staring into my eyes for my reaction. I certainly had a reaction and vocalized it. Her tongue began a slow dance around the head of my cock, tickling the entrance, then sliding around to the back, then on to another section. Just the head of my cock. While her lips slowly pumped the shaft of my cock deeper into her mouth. It was as if she were giving two different blow jobs at the same time. The lips and tongue worked in concert, a steady rhythm of pleasure for my cock, winding in and out, twisting, twirling and bouncing. My cock was pulsating with blood, so strong was my desire.
I started breathing slower as Tantra teaches, holding my vibration to a lower level. All this while staring out at the dark blue waters of the Caribbean Sea. I tried to determine the type of sailboat gliding by, but her lips wouldn’t let me think that deep, they brought me back to a more instinctual level of thought. What heaven was I in? I took handfuls of her hair and lightly played with it. She shook her head a few times, snapping my cock against the insides of her mouth, yet never letting her teeth touch it unless intended so. Then just as I felt the swell of orgasm building from my toes, she slowly took her mouth off my cock and pulled me down to the soft floor.
Angel laid me back, pushed my right thigh wider and crawled very slowly up my body, leaving kisses and lipstick traces the whole way. As her lips met mine, she started to apply that same sucking twirling motion to my tongue. My cock was now being squeezed by her crotch. I could feel the wetness of her pussy on the top, and the cool Caribbean evening air on the back. She started pumping on my cock, very slowly. This was a new yet wonderfully strange feeling for me. Soon her lips started back down my body. I was anticipating a long slow trip, but she rather quickly swallowed my cock again, took it out of her mouth, then inhaled both of my balls into her mouth. So softly she pushed them over her tongue, playing games with them. A game of Pong in her mouth with my balls as the main attraction.
I felt both of her hands start at my calves, and work their way higher. She applied some oil, and massaged lightly on the way up. More oil came as she got to my butt, then one of her fingers slipped inside my ass. It too danced slow and lightly. Then her mouth inhaled my cock once again and I knew the cum in my body would soon be in her mouth.
As soon as she got the dual action synchronized with the finger in my tail I felt my toes start to expand, then the rush started there, flew all the way up my legs and spine, into my head, then straight down to my cock as the sperm flew into her mouth. She kept sucking, and the sperm added to the moisture of her mouth, being swirled all around my cock. Sperm being used to lubricate my cock wasn’t new to me, but the action of her mouth was. The finger came out of my butt and she removed my cock from her mouth. I looked down as she tilted her head back, swallowed, then pulled herself up to sit on my cock.
Her body sat there still, but the muscles inside her pussy were slowly puling my cock into her. They worked in a concerted rhythm. I’d heard of women that had their muscles trained to do this, but this was my first real experience. Sure, other women had been able to tighten individual muscles one or two at a time, but this was like a bed of seaweed pulling my cock into her all the time.
“Would…” I started to say but she silenced me.
Then she took up a slow and steady rhythm, riding me, pulling me in and allowing me to slip out. My cock didn’t even have the time to think of getting soft, her pussy was pulling me inside so lovingly. Her head laid back and looked at the sky. I was glad that the old cock had maintained the stamina to stay hard, or get hard again, whichever it was. I tried to touch her breast, but she pushed my hands away. I liked it, but didn’t understand why she was making this all for me, none for her. Then she turned around 180 degrees. We were both facing out to the ocean and it was quite a site to see. I sat up a little so I could look over her shoulder. She leaned forward, to the side, back and all around. Making my cock feel the heat of her pussy at each turn. Then she started to moan, and I thought I knew what she was doing. She had developed a way of orgasming that worked, and maybe only knew one way. Sure enough, after the moaning started it was only a few more strokes before she gave out a loud moan and fell forward, spent. I left her there for a minute, starting to stroke her ass.
When she didn’t move I pulled out from under her. I pulled her ass into the air while her arms remained on the floor. My cock was as hard as a golden brick and easily found its way back inside her. Then she started to moan again, reaching back to grab my ass and pull me into her. I kept it slower, but changed the tempo a lot. Then I pulled out and rolled her onto her back. She hesitated but did it anyway. I followed her lead and dispensed with the light foreplay, we were beyond that. It was time for her to come again, so I buried my cock inside her, then pulled it out and walked it up to her clit. She yelped like a puppy and pulled my head into her pussy.
My lips began one rhythm, my tongue another, working entirely within a one inch space surrounding her clit. Sure, I found her ass, and yes my finger went inside, and yes she gulped air. But my mouth on her pussy and clit was my focus. And focus it did. I pulled her legs over my shoulders and she rewarded me by pinching her thighs together around my neck. I was pulled deeper into her, I changed up the rhythm of my tonguing constantly. Her gasps were getting longer and louder. With several quick circles around my tongue brought her the relief she needed. She shouted out once, quivered, then went limp. So I climbed on top of her, slipped my cock into her pussy, and started to pound away. Her legs took no time to wrap around my back, but the former strength wasn’t there. She pulled me in as I stroked, and started moaning again. As her muscles pulled my cock to signal another orgasm, my toes signaled that the sperm was once again rising from down there, and I came too, my whole body quaking and shaking. She looked me in the eyes, kissed me once, then buried her tongue in my mouth. We spent ten minutes making out, the whole while her pussy was squeezing on my now shrinking cock. That’s when she took me by the hand to the hot tub. There was already an opened bottle of champagne in a bucket there, so we got in the tub, and we both sipped slowly as we lightly stroked each other.

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