When I stood up, Susan hugged me close, resting her head on me. Her warm body and breasts caused me to stir, but I fought to keep control.
We sat on the living room couch, each girl on either side of me. There was still half a bottle of wine from the previous night so I poured us each a glass to finish it off. We talked about last night and everything else. Our conversations were more comfortable now. I learned a lot more about Susan, and she learned more about me.
When the conversation dwindled Susan said, “Oh! Melissa I saw what’s-his-face when I was walking over here… you know, Mr. Porsche. He didn’t see me though.”
“Mr. Porsche?” I asked.
“Oh yeah!” said Melissa excitedly, “Tell him about him!”
Susan sat back and said, “I went out with him a couple years ago. Rich kid. Great car, great condo, great hair, terrible taste in shoes. But I should have known from the start… just another asshole looking for a hot blonde to use as decoration.”
“C’mon,” said Melissa, “Tell him!”
“He took me to Paris,” said Susan.
“Really?” I said. “I guess he WAS rich.”
“Well, it wasn’t a private jet or anything, but still. It was for a long weekend. Of course, I’d never been to Paris, so I was like a little girl taking it all in. We stayed at a fancy old hotel, walked around; saw the Louvre, Napoleon’s tomb, all that stuff. Then at night, we walked to the Eiffel tower. It was all lit up. Really spectacular.”
“And…” prompted Melissa.
“Oh, well in Paris people are making out everywhere. At the cafes, on the street, everywhere. There’s a big park on the way to the Tower and while we were walking through it there were couples screwing on the park benches.”
“No way.”
“Yes! One couple, the girl was sitting in the guy’s lap, facing him. She was wearing a skirt, so they weren’t naked or anything, but from the way she was moving it was pretty obvious what they were doing. We walked right by them on the path.”
“The City of Love, huh?” I said.
“Another couple was more obvious. A guy had some girl bent over a park bench. What’s-his-face told me that in France it’s normal for everyone to have a lover. You’re married, and it’s just accepted you’ll also have someone on the side. Part of the culture. I don’t know if that’s really true, though.” “I need to move to Paris,” I said. I expected a whack in the arm from Melissa, but she had a far away look and was squirming a little. Was this getting her turned on?
“So, anyway, Mr. Porsche got so turned on seeing this he decided to do the same to me… led me over to a bench, and before I knew what was happening he bent me over and fucked me right here. Didn’t even ask.”
“Asshole,” I said.
“You have no idea. Anyway, it’s not like I protested all THAT much.” Susan grinned. “He took his time, but then the Eiffel Tower was closed by the time we finally got there. I was super pissed that I never got to go up it. Anyway, the rest of the trip was just the guy parading me around Paris, then on the last night he offered me to one of his business buddies.”
“Uh, what?”
“Yeah. He had a friend in Paris. Offered me to him as a ‘loaner’ while he went out drinking with some of his business partners. Can you imagine? Of course, I freaked. Nearly killed the prick. I flew home by myself.”
By now, I could see Melissa was squirming more and breathing heavily, her chest and bare breasts flushed. That gave me an idea. I whispered to Susan then stood up and took the empty wine bottle to the kitchen.
When I came back, Susan had stood and moved behind the couch. Suddenly she bent over and grabbed Melissa’s wrists, pulling her arms up over the back of the couch.
“Hey!” exclaimed Melissa.
Susan held Melissa’s arms tightly and twisted, forcing her to turn until she was facing backwards, knees on the couch and facing Susan. Melissa’s lovely ass and wide hips were presented to me as I approached from behind. Even in the fading afternoon light, I could see her pussy lips were damp.
I crouched and whispered into her ear, “Did that story turn you on? Would you like to be the one fucked across a park bench in Paris?”
