After the unexpected rendezvous with Justine, that had been as romantic as it had been frustrating, the French woman and I stayed on close terms. Of course, we had to remain in contact, for she was my editor. Yet it would have been unthinkable for us not to pursue our friendship further – though friendship is perhaps not the right term to describe our mutual fascination.
And so, only a couple of weeks later, we ended retracing our own footsteps. As a meeting that was supposed to be strictly work-related became strictly social. We did not do any work at all, instead, we talked, then we drank: cappuccinos initially, then a few beers, a few wines with dinner; and later we found ourselves back at her flat.
I was assessing my odds with Justine. Would she still flat out refuse me to fuck her? Would she tease and torment me again? She must have been taunting herself as well. I was sure I'd stand a better chance this time. I felt a strong obligation towards myself to see this thing through: I felt compelled to bed her. But then she said:
'Does Tess actually know you're here?'
'Of course not...'
'Shouldn't you go back home then?'
'No, no... I do as I please.'
'I doubt that,' she laughed.
She had me trapped, again... trapped in my own web of convoluted feelings... There was only one way out, one solution: more than ever I had to have this woman! This woman who I would not even consider taking on a date, let alone approach in a bar, for I'd be embarrassed to flirt with such a voluptuous, adult woman fifteen years older than myself. I'd never know what to say, how to impress her, yet fate had landed fabulous Justine on my path.
We whiled away the evening as we talked and talked. When I finally kissed her she said:
'are you sure?'
But not much longer after that she invited me to come to bed with her. We kissed and cuddled and caressed, yet when my fingers began to move up her thighs (those wonderfully soft legs!) she sternly forbade me to continue.
'I can't take it any longer!' I cried.
She just smiled that Renaissance smile of hers.
'We are not going to break poor Tess' heart now, are we?' she whispered.
'I know what those hands of yours were doing,' she said in a condescending voice, 'I know what you were aiming for.'
'Of course, you do. I don't mean to hide my intentions.'
'So, you want to undress me?'
'You want to me naked. You want my pussy.'
'Yes, yes, yes!'
'You want to see me come?'
'Okay,' she smiled, 'you will'.
She got up and languidly removed her nightgown. Now wearing nothing but her beige silk underwear, and gently swaying her hips, she slowly walked across the room towards an ebony cupboard. Her body was firm and smooth, voluptuous, the essence of femininity physically manifested to the highest degree. She opened a drawer out of which she took an object with which she returned to bed. It was an oblong fuchsia object, slightly resembling the size and shape of a pear.
She came back to bed, lay her back and stared intensely into my eyes while she removed her underwear. Her nether regions were well trimmed, a tuft of black hair stood up exactly in the middle of the triangular space that I had been so vehemently craving to behold.
Only now I noticed that Justine had also taken a small tube from the drawer. She took off the lid and squeezed a bit of liquid out of the tube, that she proceeded to smear over the oblong pink object. She pressed the object and it began to vibrate. First, she caressed her nipples with it, then she slowly, teasingly moved it down her belly, towards the triangle of black hair. She pressed the object on her vagina until it embraced her labia and her clitoris.
'And now you can watch me come,' she said with a quivering voice.
I wanted to take off my underwear too, but Justine said 'no'.
'What about me?' I stammered.
'Basilio,' she groaned, 'you should not under- ah! Under- ooh! Underestimate the value... AAH!'
'The value of a, a, aah! Good advice.'
'An, AAAAAH, this lesson Basilio! You selfish boy. You need to learn a thing or two about AAAAH! OOOH! About, Oh Mon Dieu, I'm going to come, Basilio, I'm coming! You need to learn a thing or two about aaaah, aaa-altruism!'
She did not answer; All I could do was stare in awe.
For ten to fifteen minutes she wriggled and groaned until she reached a climax that sent convulsions all through her body. She caught her breath and after a few minutes of panting, she finally spoke:'Of course I would like you to be my lover. But you are still too full of yourself. There are things you need to learn first. Today was a step in the right direction.'
Then she laughed a generous laugh, kissed me and bade me good-night.
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