Belle Ch. 03

The fall day could not be more glorious. The sunshine and warmth the last vestige before slipping back into the gray.

A weekend getaway in the City of Lights. The eventful overnight flight from the City That Never Sleeps chronicled in Belle Ch. 02. . . .

The black Mercedes sedan reached the conclusion of its forty-five minute journey from Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. The final turn down avenue Montaigne to the Hôtel Plaza Athénée.

As Alexander exited the vehicle, he exhaled with lazy contentment. There were many other luxurious Paris hotels, but something about the Plaza Athénée that felt like a home away from home.

As he made his way curbside, Alexander crumpled into the doorman. The sturdy man stood agape as the car door opened and Belle emerged. Breathtaking was an understatement.

Black stockings encasing her long, toned legs. The flash of the thigh high lace tops and the riveting color of the black patent leather red-soled stiletto heels. The bustle in the hotel entryway came motionless in silence, even if just for a second.

Alexander was fortunate to have known many beautiful women, including a few aspiring actresses and models. But none like Belle.

While the thirty year old woman was no longer regularly mistaken for a girl, an almost ethereal freshness surrounded her wherever she went. Those around her powerless to hide a return smile.

Dressed smartly in designer couture, she radiated elegance and allure. The stares of by-standers continued as Belle took Alexander's arm and proceeded inside. The click of her heels on the marble lobby floor announced their arrival.

Their suite was a jewel of French haute interior design. Richly adorned in warm, crimson and gold tones and textures.

As instructed, the doors to the quaint balcony had been left open to summon the crisp breeze. A bottle of Nicolas Feuillatte Brut Réserve Champagne awaited the couple. A perfect welcome.

Belle stepped onto the landing. The sunlight bathing her face so soothing it tamed the cacophony of Parisian traffic below.

As Alexander seated himself at the bistro table, he soaked in the vision of his sweet Belle. Her tight pencil skirt hinted at the absence of her usual thong panty. The lace tops of her thigh high stockings peeking just below. But the view was outdone by the sight of her big, full breasts straining against the ivory silk blouse. Her sheer bra unable to hide her nipples from poking through, beckoning.

Belle felt Alexander's arms embrace her from behind. Even with the four inch Christian Louboutin heels promoting her petite five foot five stature, she was easily enveloped by her lover's muscled frame.

She sensed Alexander's stiffness against her ass, knowing that the fleeting contact was having the precise effect she wished. Turning to face him, Belle arched her back purposely, displaying her finest charms. Indeed, pressing her bountiful breasts into Alexander's chest never failed to reward Belle with the rise of his full manhood.

Belle retreated inside with an unmistakable come hither.

More a spa salon than a bathroom, the suite amenities left hardly a desire. A heavy warm mist obscured the couple from all view as the steam shower for two hissed with force.

An irrepressible gasp of pleasure left Belle as Alexander began to plunge into her repeatedly. She still marveled at the ability to feel his cock inside her. Nicely thick, every inch of him stretched her so well. Before Alexander, Belle had never been taken from behind, never standing. She mused for a split second that none of her past boyfriends possessed equipment of the length needed for the task.

Before Alexander, she also never orgasmed during intercourse. But beyond the sensation of their physical coupling, the excitement of it all kept Belle on the edge of climax from the start. The mere fantasy of being taken by a powerful man like this was enough to bring her off. Yes, she like being fucked in this position best.

Belle could not help but notice how the luxuriating hot water caused her cunt to swell invitingly. She had always been shy about her fleshy labia. Not the dainty slit of a teen model. With her pussy regularly shaved bare for Alexander, there was no question she was all woman.

Belle could see her cunt lips hug his gorgeous penis, as if sucking him into her hungrily. Her palms pressed even harder against the shower wall as the force of Alexander's thrusts from behind brought Belle to the first of her orgasms.

Only with Alexander did Belle understand that the romance novels of her childhood were speaking of such heights. Like most women ignorant of such things, Belle's orgasms were quite mechanical, all requiring manual clitoral stimulation. But being fucked doggie style or standing from behind by Alexander required none of that. Belle now knew that any woman who sounded dismissive of the extraordinary nature of a vaginal orgasm was telling tales.

Alexander always saw to it that Belle came first. If a man's got to have his routines, this was one she could live with, smiled Belle.

But Belle also knew Alexander would be ready. She loved tasting him during foreplay. The feel of his cock in her mouth as she bathed him with her tongue made pussy wet, unconsciously without exception. Today, even after their mile high affair during the overnight airline flight, Alexander had dribbled a healthy amount of pre-cum into her mouth right when they first entered the shower.

Rocking back against him, Belle turned her head, looking behind to pique Alexander's sexual intensity. With her most affected husky voice, she moaned, "That's right lover, shoot it in me. Give me that huge load baby. Do me all over. I want to feel it dripping out of me all night."

And with that, she swore she could feel the hot flood of Alexander's release inside her as she met his climax with her own.

As she felt him withdraw from her, Belle again knelt in front of her man, licking the cum still dripping from his softening penis. She had grown to crave tasting their combined juices each time they made love as a confirmation of the passion just experienced.

Well satisfied, Alexander kissed his wife deeply. Belle offered a seductive wink as her glorious nakedness slipped behind the soapy suds . . . .

Still adjusting to the jet lag, Belle and Alexander had planned a late supper. Le Cinq at the Four Seasons Hotel George V was sure to be a gastronomic delight.

Escorting Belle to their table, Alexander acted as nonchalant as he could. Not easy to feign, however, as Belle had chosen one of her most daring outfits for their first night. Wolford style the choice as usual. The Fatal dress hugged every curve of her 36D-24-34 toned figure. But unlike her de rigeur color choice of black or red, Belle dismissed all modesty. The sheerness of the dress fabric revealed her large, pink areolas in any lighter color. Which was precisely why Belle donned her pink Fatal dress this evening.

Belle enjoyed how being braless in this dress made Alexander's mouth water. If black or red had been the color choice, only the closest viewers would be distracted by the display. This evening, the protrusion of her erect nipples highlighting the unfettered view of her areolas, Belle could not be less discreet. No gaze at the restaurant would be averted tonight.

Indeed, the confidence with which Belle carried herself tested Alexander's sense of propriety. But nothing could contain the manly pride surrounding his trophy.

The couple eschewed social mores again when they insisted to be seated next to each other. Belle nuzzled against Alexander as they sipped Kir Royale cocktails, without a care over the spectacle monopolizing the attention of staff and guest alike. Prying eyes protesting that the fine table linens offered not even the slightest hint of the exploration between Belle's thighs upon which Alexander's hand had embarked.

The sumptuous meal was only less memorable because of its competition with the sexual energy Belle's presence in the dining room had generated. Alexander could not recall being less able to suppress an erection than the moment he was treated to the vision of Belle strutting back to the table from the ladies room. Her big, beautiful breasts jiggling with each step only the way braless breasts could move. Her swaying hips and her sexy legs turning heads in her wake.

Satiating their hunger only swelled their passion. As they bid the chef and servers adieu, onlookers were left perspiring from the imagined heat that the embrace between these lovers would surely bring later.

The click of Belle's stiletto heels on the hotel lobby floor once again seemed to call the same wave of turned heads in the direction opposite from that where she had left them just hours ago.

But among the elicited looks of envy was a visage Belle seemed to recognize. An uncertain recollection. A replica of the attentive voyeur in the dimly lit First Class cabin last night. Different, yet the same. Now without the uniform of an Air France air hostess.

Still caught in her reciprocal gaze, Belle heard Alexander speak first.

"Monique, qu'est-ce que vous faites ici? What are you doing here?"