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**Author’s note: This is a work of speculative fiction, for adults only. Mostly, it was written for my entertainment. Hopefully, some of you will enjoy it as well.

It’s hard to say exactly how my sister and I ended up living in that studio in Paris. As I stood over my sleeping sister, with the big bay window letting the moonlight wash through flimsy, sheer curtains to spill across Natalie and her woman lover, Claire, I tried to puzzle it out.

First, there had been the robbery. Well, before that was the trip itself. I mean, I don’t know what it was that prompted me to join my sixteen-year-old sister on a tour of Europe. Natalie was convincing, when she wanted to be, and since she had raised all the money herself, I guess I thought it would be a blast. Let me tell you, shopping your way through England and half of France with an underage gay sister was somewhat less interesting than I originally imagined.

And then we met Claire. We bumped into her in a butch nightclub north of Paris. Claire was a fashionable French model, with the kinky lesbian tastes to go along with her sultry, copper hair, smoldering blue eyes, and slender, angular face. I fell in love with her almost as quickly as Natalie did. What amazes me, really, is that we weren’t jealous of each other. I flirted with Claire, and so did my sister, and none of us showed the slightest concern.

But back to the robbery.

While we were sipping French liquor with Claire, someone broke into our hotel and left with most of our cash and clothes. The hotel staff claimed they knew nothing, and so kicked us out the next morning when we could not pay. That meant it had to be someone inside. Or the attendant that morning just hated Americans. Hard to say.

By the end of the day, we were huddled under a bus stop in the rain, shivering, with the same clothes we’d been wearing for two days. And guess who showed up? Claire. In a BMW. Wearing furs and I think nothing else. I swear I saw her nipples when she leaned over to open the door. The rain on the window made it hard to tell. I haven’t gotten around to asking her about it yet.

Anyway, Nat and I climbed into her car and she took us to her flat down by the Thames. It was a small place, but she enjoyed it. Her walls were decorated with naked women, some paintings, some sculptures, and some enlarged photos. One picture showed a woman lying spead-eagle on a bed. The camera was about level with the woman’s feet, which meant that I had a terrific view of the model’s genitals. Her head was lifted, though blurred, and I guessed, from her hair and blue eyes, that it was Claire. Wow. Normally, I’d make fun of someone with a studio shot of themselves, but this was…amazing. And frankly, it really turned me on.

So, a few days after we started living with Claire, Nat told me she had gotten a job, and that we were going to move to a studio of our own. We garnished enough money right after that to call Mom and Dad, telling them that we were hanging out in Paris instead of tramping across Italy and Spain. They were surprised but not offended that we were going to be in Paris for at least the rest of the summer. Over all, it went better than I thought.

Our first priority in the studio, after a bed, was food. Nat picked out a small, low bed that was almost a futon, almost a mat, and certainly too close to the floor for my taste, but it did the job. There was only barely enough room for the two of us to sleep comfortably, but we managed. There were awkward moments, like when I woke up spooning Natalie with an erection poking her in the ass. She never said anything, so neither did I.

So, here I was, a week later, looking down on two beautiful, naked women, and trying to decide which was prettier.

Yes, I know, one of them was Natalie. But man, she was fine. I’d always known that, in spite of her baggy attire and semi-Goth styles. But seeing her naked, a sheet over one leg and Clair’s hand over one breast, I faced Natalie’s sensual beauty head-on, like staring down railway tracks at a rushing locomotive. I’d been feeling a little extra-horny with Claire visiting us in see-through shirts and mini-skirts that often showed her panties, but this brought me to a whole new level of arousal.

The breeze from the open window stirred şişli rus escort chilly air through the bedroom. I watched in awe as goosebumps started on my sister’s chest, traveled downward across her palm-sized breasts, traced over her ribs and tight, feminine abdomen to crest over the beautiful, shaven mound of her groin. I told myself it was wrong to drink in the sight of my naked sister like this, but I could no more turn away than I could stop lusting after women.

Or breathing.

It was then that I realized Claire was watching me. Her luscious blue eyes took in my erection pressing against my shorts. I deliberately looked from her eyes to her breasts. She was small-chested, like my sister, with the tiny, pink nipples of a teenager. I could have drooled over them, if I had not already started drooling over Natalie.

To provoke Claire’s interest, I looked even lower, deliberately fascinated with her pussy. Her sex glistened in the moon-washed shadows, and I could tell she was one of those women with small lips. They barely protruded from her lean vulva. To cup her sex in my hand would have been a dream. To taste her would have been unbelievable. And I had seen her semi-naked form in magazines.

Claire’s hand trailed across Natalie’s stomach, reaching lower slowly, teasingly. Nat rolled her head to one side, her mouth parting in a sleep-laden breath of carnal hunger. I watched Claire’s fingers creeping closer and closer to my sister’s groin. Her fingertips traced where the goosebumps had gone, until her fingers stopped only an inch from where my sister’s sleek, smooth clit peeked from between her vuvla, larger and slightly more enticing than Claire’s tiny organ.

And then her index finger eased across the rise of my sister’s pelvic mound and down into the furrow of her pussy. The finger crossed Nat’s clit, eliciting a long, wavering moan, before sinking into the moist depths of Natalie’s pussy. When she pulled it back, I saw that it glistened with my sister’s honey.

With a sly grin, Claire sat, then got on her knees and walked across the length of the bed to me. She was almost of a height with me, and reached out with her dry hand to my shirt and pulled me to her. I couldn’t resist, and neither could I look away from her small but perfect breasts. It felt so natural to reach for her tender mounds that I found my hands rising of their own accord. I caught myself, hesitant to push too far too fast, and touched her arms and shoulders instead.

Claire was having none of that. She pulled me into a kiss. Her lips tasted of sex, and I realized I was tasting my sister on her mouth. Then felt her other hand pushing down my shorts. Somehow she pushed my underwear and shorts down around my knees with one hand, in spite of the erection jutting upwards. Her hand caressed my hardness, and then I felt her smearing moisture over the tip of my dick. I sucked in a breath as the wildly erotic sensations of her slick fingers sent tremors through my thighs and along my spine. She was getting me wet with Natalie’s pussy juice! Her touch was as beautiful as the rest of her.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling my cock to her lips. She kissed me on the sensitive head, bringing another spasm of tremors through my body. I was panting, by this time, and I gulped hard in sudden anticipation. She held the base of my prick in her fist and proceeded to kiss the rest of my cock all over. Then she started licking me. Like licking an ice cream cone, her tongue swept over my skin. My knees turned to jello as I trembled from the euphoric stimulus. Her tongue smeared through the moisture she had applied with her fingers and traced slick trails first up one side and down the other until finally she parted her lips over the tip of my cock.

As the French model sucked on the end of my dick, my eyes fell upon my sister’s naked, sleeping form. It was hard for me to imagine that she had been making love to Claire only a few hours ago, and that now I was about to be making it with Claire as well. Natalie pulled one knee up some, and then let it fall out to the side, which had the effect of spreading her pussy more, and I fervently wished I could switch on a light.

By then, Claire was swishing her tongue back and forth on the şişli türbanlı escort underside of my cock, driving me wild. I lost my balance for a moment, my knees locked, and she had to put her hands on my ass to hold me up. As if she had planned it, her lips slipped down across the length of my cock and suddenly I was thrust into her completely. I keep my pubic hair fairly short, but still her nose was poking into my hair. I felt like I must have been in her throat, but her mouth was such a soft, comforting tunnel I couldn’t imagine how she had managed it.

After a delightful moment, she released me. “You like that, American boy?” Claire said in a low, sultry voice. I could so marry her.

“Ah, yeah,” I murmured. Why is it hard to talk when someone’s lips are glued to your privates?

“Yes, you like that, American boy. Tell me how much you like it.”

“Very much,” I stuttered.

“How much? What will you give me for my service?”

“Service? I think this is a little more than a service.”

She laughed. “Oh, you’re making it easy for me. What, then, will you pay for this amazing service?”

As if to drive home her point, she slipped my cock back into her mouth.

“I don’t know,” I said after a groan. “What would you want, French girl?”

“Well,” she said slowly, drawing it out, after releasing my prick. She kept me hard, and my knees wobbly, by slowly jerking me in her fist while she looked up at me. “If I were some other French girl, I’d say ‘three-hundred dollars.’ But, this French girl takes all sorts of other types of payment.”

“Like what,” I asked.

“Well,” she said again, “there’s this other thing you can do, that I have a hard time reaching…”

My first thought was that she wanted help with something high. Reaching? Come on. But then, I think I would have done almost anything for more of her lips over my prick.

Before I could say anything, though, she leaned back onto the bead, giving me an amazing view of her pale breasts as they shifted outward around her ribs with the new position. Her hands never left my cock, and she pulled me down towards her groin. I lowered myself to my knees, which had the effect of placing my cock-head, still guided by her hands, atop her clit. I shuddered nearly uncontrollably, but managed to suppress a loud groan that would surely have awaked Natalie. Touching Claire’s sex with my prick was like a teasing slice of Heaven.

“What am I supposed to be reaching?” I asked her.

“A spot…” Her accent made the two simple words so beautiful. She eased my dick lower, down across the bump of her clit and into the slick, moist furrow of her pussy. She stroked my prick as she moved it, teasing me even more. Her skin was hot, burning, and the wetness of her pussy felt like a scalding cauldron. Why was that feeling appealing, rather than painful?

And then she was sliding my rigid shaft into her hungry snatch. The moisture from her mouth and the slick wetness already seething in her cunt made my entrance slippery and exquisitely pleasant. We did it slowly, easing my prick into her with almost agonizing patience, as if to enjoy every slipping millimeter until we went insane from lust and the bestial hungers igniting in our genitals and rising through our spines to spread through our bodies and finally explode in our brains. At least, that was how I was feeling. It wasn’t that coherent, of course, at the time, but hey – hind-sight and all.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour’s worth of groaning and sighing, I was completely inside her. When my pubic bone pressed into her clit, Claire turned her head, her face contorting in that lusty way of painful pleasure only sex can bring. She sucked in a long, hissing breath, then let it all back out with a deep, throaty moan. I guessed I had done something right.

Claire looked up at me, her blue eyes like azure skies behind a storm. “That’s the right place…” she whispered. “You found my itch. Please – scratch it.”

What better instructions could a guy get? I pulled out of her, slowly but not like that first entrance. It was time for fucking, not teasing. Well, teasing was okay, as long as it was during the fucking. You know what I mean. It was time to get şişli ucuz escort busy. So I did. I thrust back into her, then lost my balance because my boxers around my knees restricted me. Claire laughed as I slipped out of her. In my stumbling, I found my face near her hips, so I lowered my lips to her cunt. I’d never tasted pussy before, but I’d seen so much porn in my life that I knew what to do. I kissed her around her vulva, then slid my tongue into her furrow, teasing her clit before sliding lower to her hot, wet hole. I pondered the notion that my tongue was traveling where my dick had gone moments before, but decided that it wasn’t that important.

So, I ate her pussy. Claire was sour and sweet at the same time, like some descriptions I’d read, but the taste was so perfect, so delightful, I found I couldn’t think of much else. In moments, I had her writing maniacally, thrashing this way and that as my tongue danced over her clit and stabbed into her vagina.

“Oh, lover,” Claire moaned in that delightful French accent, “do me now. Stop licking and fuck me.”

Back to my knees, I put my cock-head against her succulent canal and slid into her easily. She was tight, tighter than before, as if my tongue had teased her to a new state of tension. Her pussy walls slid around my cock in sugary, velvet comfort I can relate to nothing else in my experience. There is no food, no drink, no activity or state of being that compared to how I felt pushing my dick into Claire. She was an angel descended from the starry skies to wreak bliss upon my brow.

What is there to say about this part of sex? We fucked. I went slow, then sped up. I changed the depth of my thrusts. I used long, broad strokes and bounced my groin against hers, shaking her and the entire bed. Her breasts jiggled with each of those delightful crashes, and her dancing nipples left my mouth watery. I then reduced my thrusting to a sort of grinding of my pubic bone against her clit. I reached up and touched her left breast, teasing her nipple to rigidity. She wrapped her legs around my hips and squeezed me close.

Claire’s orgasm was stupendous. I’d never seen one so intense. After she wrapped her legs around me, I leaned down over her and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. As soon as my lips made contact with her small breast, she arched her back, thrusting the tip of her nipple fully into my mouth. I rubbed around the sensitive bump with my tongue, salivating over her tit like a hungry child. Between my tongue on her breast and my cock in her pussy, she had enough and came in a flood of wet syrup over my dick. As wet and slick as she was on the inside, when she came she got wetter, slicker, and if possible, even hotter on the inside. She tensed all over, like no woman I’d ever seen, and her inner muscles squeezed me like a soft fist. She broke out in a sudden sweat. One fist clenched in the sheets beside her while the other caught her other nipple and pinched it spasmodically.

“Where do you want me to come, French Girl?” I asked her when she finally began to come down from her plateau. She panted as she grinned up at me.

“Bring your dick to my mouth, American Boy,” she purred.

I pulled out of her heavenly coital embrace and straddled her chest. She reached up with one hand and started stroking my wet length as I knelt atop her. My balls rasped against her sweat-sticky stomach.

Her hand was too much. The look on her face, combined with a good fuck, and then the tight but gentle squeeze of her fingers sent me over the edge. I clenched up all over much like she had, and my dick started it’s own little happy dance. With every stroke of her hand, I spewed tiny clear or white drops. Some splattered across her face and neck. Some dripped across her chest. And then the thicker, syrupy globs spewed out as my hips bucked, my vision turned red and then failed completely, and my head spun as if I had been knocked for and endless arc of somersaults by a giant golfer’s club.

When finally I returned to awareness, I was still kneeling across Claire’s chest, and my semen covered her breasts, her face, and drops had splattered my thighs. It was one of the messiest orgasms I’d ever had. I guess we both got off well that night. I loved the splatters of my cum over Claire’s lips and chin. A puddle had gathered between her tits, and one thick, white glob encompassed her right nipple. More trailed down her chin and gathered on her neck. It was a thing of beauty, and I thanked every god and angel and spirit I could think of for allowing my participation.

And then Natalie sat up.

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