La Suite (7 page)

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Authors: M. P. Franck

Tags: #erotica, #adult, #glbt, #multiple partners

BOOK: La Suite
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There was a tap
at the door. She pulled her skirt down and grabbed her knickers,
just as a face appeared.

“How was it?”
Odile asked. “Did you manage to work the pump?”

Gaëlle smiled
at her. She was conscious of still being pink from her orgasm of a
moment earlier.

“Oh, yes, thank
you,” she said. “The experiment has been, shall we say, very
thought-provoking. I’ll be giving it a considerable amount of
consideration when I get home, tonight. But if you will show me
where the loo is, I’ll finish sorting myself out before I go. I
hadn’t realised how late it is.”

Odile showed
her to a washroom and left Gaëlle, who put her knickers back on and
splashed her face with cold water. Odile was waiting for her in the
hallway.

“Thank you for
supper, for the swim and for letting me into your secret life,”
Gaëlle said, kissing Odile.

“I enjoyed the
evening, too, and thank you for coming round. You’re welcome any
time. I’m here all week and, as I told you, the evenings can seem
long.”

“I’ll come when
I can.”

Gaëlle drove
home, already thinking of what she would write in her journal.

 

From Gaëlle’s
Journal

 

Jérôme used to
say that we get what we need when we need it. The coincidence of
meeting Odile at the charity sale was just such an event. I like
her as a person, she’s warm and serious, but with an interest in
sex that I share.

This evening
was the most erotic exploration I have ever done since I’ve been on
my own. I was getting ready to go to Barbara’s house when I first
thought about the erotic side of it. I wanted to be ready to take
advantage of the situation to try out the pump if the chance came.
It’s been occupying my mind since I first learned of it and saw
Barbara’s swollen nipples. I wore one of my short skirts, because I
hoped I might have the chance to try out the pump.

When Odile
showed me the pumping equipment, it was quite hard not to ask if I
could try it immediately. I didn’t want her to get the idea that
the only reason I was there was to try out the pump, though, so I
was brave and said nothing. Even if I’m not thinking of her
particularly sexually, it’s nice to know I still look passable. I
must remember that I’m forty-three and that I can’t hope to look as
good naked as I did fifteen years ago. The reactions of those who
have seen me nude in the past couple of weeks have reassured me. I
wonder how the public at large would react if I showed? Perhaps I
might dare to try that again now? Maybe shave again? The simple
fact that I have written that down tells me that I want to.
Exhibitionism is so closely associated with my life with Jérôme
that it will be strange, I know. I’ll miss his post-exhib
commentary as well as the look in his eyes while I am exposed, but
I think it will still feel good.

I think Odile
is attracted to me physically, even if she isn’t aware of it
herself. The way she was so keen that I should swim naked and how
she examined me whenever she thought I wouldn’t notice made her
interest quite obvious. I wouldn’t say no if she asked, but I’m
leaving it up to her to make the first move. I’ve quite a lot on my
sexual plate as it is!

Chapter
Nine

 

 

It was a couple
of weeks later when Gaëlle heard from Odile again. They had
exchanged telephone numbers, so Gaëlle knew who was calling.

“Do you fancy a
lunch in Germany?” Odile asked.

“Why not?”
Gaëlle responded. “But why go so far?”

“There’s a
Turkish restaurant I want to try out.”

“Fair enough.
Can you pick me up?”

They made
arrangements and Odile collected Gaëlle from the corner of her
street. She drove them across the Rhine and out into the country to
what looked like a very traditional German inn.

“Not so
Turkish,” Gaëlle commented with a smile, but once inside, she had
to revise her opinion. The interior had rugs, brass decorations and
Turkish music. The round tables were nicely separated by
Mediterranean plants, giving each one a large degree of privacy.
The food was authentic and good, too. Gaëlle made a mental note of
the place for future reference.

Odile clearly
enjoyed Gaëlle’s company. A few days later, Gaëlle was just
finishing a workout at the gym when she felt her mobile phone
vibrating.

“I know we ate
together just the other day, Gaëlle, but can you come round this
evening?”

Gaëlle looked
at her watch. “It’s evening already. Do you want me to come
straight round or to have my shower first?”

“Come as you
are.”

Gaëlle stripped
off her shorts, knickers and tee shirt and covered up with the
jogging top and trousers that she’d worn to drive to the gym. She
was very sweaty, but thought that Odile sounded urgent. Ten minutes
later she was parking outside Odile’s house in the suburbs. Odile
was at the door, looking excited. She ushered Gaëlle inside and fed
her pizza

“Actually,” she
said as she cleared the table, “I’ve got you here under false
pretences. What I really want to show you is this.” She put a
cardboard box on the table and fished several lengths of plastic
tubing out of it. A little container of glass cylinders
followed.

“Do you
recognize what it is?” Odile asked. “Of course you do. It’s my very
own pumping kit and I wanted you to be here to see me use it for
the first time. Will you indulge me? It has a manual pump, nothing
like as sophisticated as Barbara’s, but still…”

Gaëlle smiled.
Odile’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Of course,” she said.

They went into
the sitting room, where Gaëlle sat down on the sofa. Odile stood in
front of her and undressed. She was a little shorter than Gaëlle
and less slim, with shortish dark hair and nice brown eyes. She
wasn’t wearing a bra and Gaëlle could see that Odile’s nipples were
already erect. She noted that here, yet again, was a woman much
better endowed in that department than herself. Odile’s pubic hair
was more luxuriant, too. Odile settled herself on the floor between
Gaëlle’s knees, her head leaning back into the crutch of Gaëlle’s
jogging pants.

“Is this okay?”
she asked.

Gaëlle
nodded.

Odile fitted
the hand pump to one end of the tubing and clipped two little glass
cylinders to the bifurcated other end. She held the cylinders over
her nipples, turned her face up towards Gaëlle and said, “This is
where you come in. I can’t do the pump and hold these in place at
the same time.”

Gaëlle took the
pump, which looked like the hand-grip control of a petrol pump, and
began to squeeze it, drawing Odile’s nipples into the tube. Their
pink colouring became darker as the pressure increased. Gaëlle
stopped pumping and Odile pulled at the cylinders. They both came
off with a little plop.

“Not tight
enough. Just keep pumping until I say,” Odile said. “Don’t watch. I
want to see how much I can take.”

Gaëlle looked
away and worked the hand pump, ignoring Odile’s occasional gasps,
until at last, Odile whimpered, “Stop.”

Gaëlle looked
down at Odile’s breasts and gulped. Odile’s nipples were easily as
long as the end joint on Gaëlle’s forefinger. They were purple and
most of the areola had also been sucked into the tubes. Odile
unclipped the tubes from the cylinders and asked.

“Will you play
with them for me?”

Gaëlle leaned
forward and lifted the cylinders. Odile moaned. Gaëlle took hold of
the cylinders and used them to lift Odile’s breasts. Odile breathed
heavily. When Gaëlle gently jiggled the cylinders, making Odile’s
breasts quiver, Odile gasped, “Oh, yes! Let go for a moment,
though.”

Gaëlle released
her grip and Odile turned herself round, so she was on all fours.
The cylinders dangled below her hanging breasts, making her nipples
look even more elongated. She re-attached the tubing and Gaëlle
thought she was going to be asked to pump again, but Odile put the
end of the tubing into Gaëlle’s hand and said, “Lead me. I want you
to treat me like a dog.”

Gaëlle stood
and gently pulled on the improvised leash. Odile shuffled behind
her on hands and knees, her breasts dragged forward by the trapped
nipples. Then she straightened her legs and followed Gaëlle with
her bottom high in the air, like a bitch on heat. She followed
Gaëlle around the ground floor of the house, moaning with pleasure.
When they returned to the sitting room, she said, “Can you look in
that drawer and see if there’s some string. I’d love it if you
could tie up my nipples so they stay like this for longer.”

There was no
string in the drawer, but Gaëlle spotted some elastic bands. She
took two of them and came back to where Odile was sitting on the
carpet, nursing her breasts in her hands. Gaëlle took hold of the
cylinder that held Odile’s right nipple. She doubled the elastic
band and slid it over the glass tubing and then did the same for
the other breast.

“I don’t know
whether this will work, or whether it will be too painful,” she
told Odile. “Are you sure you want it?”

“Yes! Do it to
me, Gaëlle.”

Gaëlle worked
the tight elastic bands down the outside of the tubes, then, when
Odile nodded her agreement, she slipped them off the glass and
round the base of Odile’s distended nipples. Odile uttered a groan
from deep inside and Gaëlle felt a surge in her belly at the
discomfort Odile had to be feeling. Odile slowly got to her
feet.

“Oh, it hurts,”
she said, wincing, “but it looks so, so good, don’t you think?”

Good wasn’t the
word Gaëlle would have chosen, but, thinking back to her night with
Vivienne, when her sex and nipples had been subjected to the
effects of a pump, she said, “It looks very, very erotic.”

Odile looked
hard at Gaëlle. “This is turning you on, too, isn’t it?” she said.
“Just look at your pants!”

Gaëlle glanced
down and saw that the pale grey material had a darker patch between
her legs. “It’d be hard to deny it, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t feel
it necessary to explain that much of the darker patch was because
of sweat from her workout. On the other hand, she knew she was
damp.

Odile got to
her knees and pulled Gaëlle’s pants down. “Oh. No knickers!” she
exclaimed. She parted Gaëlle’s thighs and lapped at Gaëlle’s wet
labia with an eager tongue. Gaëlle sank back on the sofa and
luxuriated in the sensations.

“I’ve never
done this before. Am I doing it right?” Odile asked, between
slurps.

“Oh, yes, it’s
wonderful. This is lovely!”

It didn’t take
long for Gaëlle to come. Gaëlle blew out her cheeks, sat up and
looked at her friend. Odile was kneeling in front of her, Gaëlle’s
juices still smeared on her lips. She was twisting and wriggling as
her congested nipples became more and more tender.

“Don’t you
think those should come off, now?” Gaëlle asked, waving at the
rubber bands.

“Yes, I want
you to pull both of them off at the same time. Be as rough as you
like.”

Gaëlle could
feel the heat in Odile’s nipples as she eased her fingernails under
the tight elastic. Odile nodded and Gaëlle ripped off the rubber
bands. Odile screamed and collapsed in a heap, scrubbing at her
tortured nipples in a big orgasm.

Later, as they
cuddled on the sofa, Gaëlle had to be honest with Odile. “That was
fantastic and I’ll be happy to do it again, but you have to
understand that it can’t be exclusive. I intend to have a sex life
of my own. You can be a part of it, but only a part, is that
fair?”

“If I get
sensations as strong as I did today, I’ll accept whatever you can
offer,” Odile said, kissing Gaëlle again.

Gaëlle went
home to her belated shower, thinking hard about yet another erotic
complication in her life, but buzzing with this new and unexpected
experience.

Chapter
Ten

 

 

The phone rang
early the following morning. It was Gabi, announcing her imminent
return from Brussels.

“I’ll be coming
straight round to you, Gaëlle, so listen out for the bike early
this afternoon!” Gabi declared. True to her word, she roared onto
the street just as Gaëlle was finishing laying the table for a late
lunch. Gabi tore up the stairs and nearly knocked Gaëlle over with
her enthusiastic hug.

“You’ll have to
excuse me,” she burbled. “I’m all sweaty and buzzing. I had a great
run down, almost no traffic for once.”

Gaëlle led her
into the apartment.

“I’ve made us a
little something to eat,” she said. “But would you like to have a
shower first?”

“I’ve nothing
to change into, but if I can borrow something of yours…” Gabi
suggested.

“Of course. Off
you go. Towels are in the cupboard on the left,” Gaëlle called
after her. “I’ll sort some clothes out for you and put them in the
spare room.”

She laid out
one of her tee-shirts, choosing a pale green one that she thought
would contrast nicely with Gabi’s olive skin. She added a short
black skirt and a pair of white cotton knickers. Ten minutes later,
Gabi emerged, wrapped in a bath towel. She left the door open while
she was changing but, Gaëlle, unsure of whether it was deliberate,
chose not to peep.

“I left the
skirt on the bed. This tee-shirt is long enough to wear as a
dress,” Gabi announced, appearing in the dining room

“On you, it
is,” Gaëlle agreed, trying to sound non-committal. The tee-shirt
reached below mid-thigh on Gabi.

“And on you it
wouldn’t be? Have you ever worn it as a dress?” Gabi inquired,
looking hard at Gaëlle. “I bet you have, haven’t you? I’m learning
to read your facial expressions. That must have looked really
sexy.”

“Um,” Gaëlle
said. “Are you hungry?”

“Ravenous.”

As Gabi sat
herself down at the table, Gaëlle was aware of a slight feeling of
vertigo. Gabi had dried herself, but not very thoroughly, and the
dark pink of her nipples was noticeable through the damp cotton of
the tee-shirt. Gaëlle tore her attention away and served the quiche
she had made. She’d learned that Gabi preferred to eat in silence
and talk afterwards, so while they were eating, Gaëlle allowed her
mind to drift away…to Venice, in fact, four years earlier, and to
the occasion she had indeed worn that tee-shirt as a dress.

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