The Eiffel Tower is beautiful tonight. Majestic. "But good god, what I'm there. " Mailed before the window of this sumptuous suite in Paris, she wonders what led her to accept this appointment. With this stranger whom she obviously knows nothing. Not even his face. Just a word "Hotel Bellevue - Friday 22h". A word embedded in the petals of red roses with a huge bouquet had filed a deliveryman on his desk ago 3 days. He knew where she worked, her name. Shit. Any woman would have kept the flowers, shrug and throw the word. Not her. She, whose life was so boring the 1000 times fantasize about a scenario like that. She, whose husband loving but often absent, leaving no desire in this body who wanted nothing more than vibrate. Her forties blossomed, the children become teen who finally left him time for her. It. Sensual. Alone. She decided to go. His body demanded it. His intuition guide. She needed it. Need to forget the dreary day to let go. Not accepted.
hundred times she almost quit. A hundred times she sought what she would wear. Dust off her little lace sets that did little more than fantasize her drawers. A hundred times she imagined what would happen. A mixture of excitement, apprehension. She should have taken her legs around his neck. No. Absolutely not. Life is too short.
the day, she left her children alone without explanation. Her husband was abroad. Not to change. She took the subway without thinking. Stopped dead in the lobby, took a deep breath and recovered the key. Without looking. The silence of the hotel clashed with the chaos that reigned in her. His heart pierced his chest and she almost sinking when she came to the door.
a deep breath and opened it. Dozens of candles were dancing in this beautiful suite with elegant fragrances. The flickering shadows made a delicious all appear lingerie. An invisible force him to give up to turn around. Lace is red. A man of taste. At its size. She did not ask any question. Was changed and when she had finished, she slipped over the pretty silk dressing gown to match. She went to the window and began to doubt.
Diving in thought, she did not hear the door open. But gradually she heard the muffled footsteps crushing the thick carpet of the room. She did not budge. As paralyzed. A black silk scarf appeared before his eyes. She did not budge. Excited. The darkness grew upon her and she did nothing to prevent it. She felt a breath Hot stroking his neck before a gentle kiss was a thrill to go small of her back. Impressive and soft hands rested on her shoulders and she let herself go to the greed of his kisses. She would yield to this man. His mind was going to leave, his body would not live for the moment.
The night was one of the finest of its existence. Never remove the blindfold, her skin never knew no respite to the tenderness and passion kisses of her executioner. The fun never stopped irradiating each part of his body awoke from hibernation forced under the delicate hands of his torturer. She felt that she had never felt. Abandoning its being opened to a multitude of new sensations. Darkness extolled his other senses. She had no more idea of where she was, who she was, what time it was. She was hovering on a cloud made of enjoyment of hugs, kisses, bodies entwined, grabbed, hugged. What she felt she gushed in a fire she thought extinct. Worse. She rediscovered the same time that this man devoted himself to look after her. She did not invent any guilt because she felt reborn in the flames of desire burning incandescent. Life returned in it.
A sweet sleep came over her in a last gasp of pleasure that left her lifeless until sunrise.
The first rays bathed her face with a gentle heat, almost unreal. It was wonderful. Released as a burden. She removed the blindfold and silk began to be a time to ambient light. She turned to him who was still asleep. This lover. Wonderful. A tear began to slide down his cheek. It was her husband.
hundred times she almost quit. A hundred times she sought what she would wear. Dust off her little lace sets that did little more than fantasize her drawers. A hundred times she imagined what would happen. A mixture of excitement, apprehension. She should have taken her legs around his neck. No. Absolutely not. Life is too short.
the day, she left her children alone without explanation. Her husband was abroad. Not to change. She took the subway without thinking. Stopped dead in the lobby, took a deep breath and recovered the key. Without looking. The silence of the hotel clashed with the chaos that reigned in her. His heart pierced his chest and she almost sinking when she came to the door.
a deep breath and opened it. Dozens of candles were dancing in this beautiful suite with elegant fragrances. The flickering shadows made a delicious all appear lingerie. An invisible force him to give up to turn around. Lace is red. A man of taste. At its size. She did not ask any question. Was changed and when she had finished, she slipped over the pretty silk dressing gown to match. She went to the window and began to doubt.
Diving in thought, she did not hear the door open. But gradually she heard the muffled footsteps crushing the thick carpet of the room. She did not budge. As paralyzed. A black silk scarf appeared before his eyes. She did not budge. Excited. The darkness grew upon her and she did nothing to prevent it. She felt a breath Hot stroking his neck before a gentle kiss was a thrill to go small of her back. Impressive and soft hands rested on her shoulders and she let herself go to the greed of his kisses. She would yield to this man. His mind was going to leave, his body would not live for the moment.
The night was one of the finest of its existence. Never remove the blindfold, her skin never knew no respite to the tenderness and passion kisses of her executioner. The fun never stopped irradiating each part of his body awoke from hibernation forced under the delicate hands of his torturer. She felt that she had never felt. Abandoning its being opened to a multitude of new sensations. Darkness extolled his other senses. She had no more idea of where she was, who she was, what time it was. She was hovering on a cloud made of enjoyment of hugs, kisses, bodies entwined, grabbed, hugged. What she felt she gushed in a fire she thought extinct. Worse. She rediscovered the same time that this man devoted himself to look after her. She did not invent any guilt because she felt reborn in the flames of desire burning incandescent. Life returned in it.
A sweet sleep came over her in a last gasp of pleasure that left her lifeless until sunrise.
The first rays bathed her face with a gentle heat, almost unreal. It was wonderful. Released as a burden. She removed the blindfold and silk began to be a time to ambient light. She turned to him who was still asleep. This lover. Wonderful. A tear began to slide down his cheek. It was her husband.
