Cassie's Night of "Ooh La La"

A million city lights twinkled, and Cassie's brown eyes glimmered as she took them all in. "Oh, Paris, I love you," she whispered. The 20-year-old American brunette practically skipped out the hotel's revolving glass doors and opened her arms to the crisp evening air. Her maroon pumps clattered along the walkway as she fast-walked to the sidewalk and into the heart of the city, passing a quaint little rustic-wood café and regal-looking old stone statues whose grey eyes gazed serenely at the soothing azure depths of the Seine River, whose banks lay a few blocks away.

In between water and stone, the streets were coming alive. Droves of well-dressed young people were smiling, holding hands, chatting in smooth-flowing streams of French parlance, all making their way to any one of Paris' myriad bars and dance clubs. And Cassie was out here among them. Her lips, glittering with shiny pink lip gloss, stretched up and out in a hearty smile as her head flicked back and forth from one group to the next, making the lustrous, silky-smooth brown hair cascading halfway down her back bounce atop the form-fitting white blouse that enclosed the soft, squishy melons of her ample breasts. Her supple thighs flitted back and forth with her fast, enthusiastic pace. Her knee-length, sky-blue skirt girding her ample hips fluttered, teasing at the shapely slopes of Cassie's rump underneath them.

Cassie wasn't in Paris alone. Her parents were back at the hotel, probably relaxing by the pool after a full day of touring the Louvre and local shops with Cassie in tow. Cassie had spent hours with them traipsing the museum's corridors, while Mom snapped photo after photo of Cassie and Dad—Dad making goofy faces or poses, or reindeer antlers behind Cassie's head, at every opportunity. She accompanied Mom while Mom gushed over every little trinket in the stores and told sweet little stories about her and Dad's first trip to Paris. Would have been sweeter if Cassie hadn't heard the same stories umpteen times before.

Cassie rolled her eyes and chuckled quietly, looking back on the day. She loved her parents to pieces. But a girl's gotta catch a break from Mom and Dad some time—especially when out on vacay. Well, that's what tonight is for, she mused, heart rate skipping with anticipation. This is Cassie time.

Up ahead, a set of wooden doors with soft light behind them beckoned. "La Candelaria" Cassie read on the overhead sign. This one was in Yelp! Yes, this will do, she thought to herself. She entered through the open door and slid her butt down onto one of a half-dozen empty seats at the bar.

"Bon soir," said a middle-aged, bearded, grizzled-looking bartender. "Voulez-vous une carte?"

"Er—" Cassie paused. Oh, carte—that means menu!, she remembered. Cassie had taken a year or so of French back in the States, but like most American girls, she was far from fluent. "Uh, oui, si'il vous plait."

The bartender nodded, stone-faced, and handed her a menu. Cassie's smile vanished, and her brow furrowed, as her eyes meandered around the countless lines of French-only text. Liqueur, said one subhead. Okay, I know what that means, she thought, then pointed to a random entry—"Je... voudrais ca, s'il vous plait."

The bartender smirked. And answered in English: "And do you know what it is? You don't?"

"Show me," said another male voice. Cassie looked to her right. A muscly, 6-feet-tall twentysomething man with a chiseled chin, shiny cropped dark hair, and a ruddy olive-oil complexion plopped down next to her and peered at the menu. Cassie smelled a rich, musky cologne wafting from his chest. Her eyes quickly darted up to his face, and she blushed. He looked at her with kind, dark eyes. And a very handsome face. He pointed with one finger to another item further down the page. "Order this. You will like. Trust me," he said.

Cassie cringed. She was so embarrassed! But, yet, excited, too. Exciting to so suddenly have a cute French guy for company.

"Gimlet?" she sounded it out.

"Yes. Ginger and gin. Is the best," he said, then he addressed the bartender in French, ordering a Gimlet for Cassie and a vodka and tonic for himself. Cassie fished out a few Euros, but the young man pushed her hand away. "Non, mademoiselle. I buy this round."

"Merci beaucoup," she said to the friendly male stranger, smiling awkwardly. She clasped his hand with hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Vous etes gentile."

"Of course," he said, smiling back. "I am Nicolas. And over there—" he pointed further down the bar to another young lad sipping a glass of red wine—"is my friend, Michel."

"I'm Cassie," she answered, giggling softly, butterflies flittering around in her stomach. She studied Michel more closely. He was about Nicolas' height and in very good shape, too, but leaner, and fairer-skinned. Light auburn hair and hazel eyes. And devastatingly handsome.

She sipped her drink. Ooh, that's nice, she thought, as the sugary, syrupy fluid washed down her throat and a warm buzz flooded her temples.

She looked again at Michel, then at Nicolas. And then a troubling thought crossed Cassie's mind as she looked at Nicolas: Hmm, I hope they're not, you know--- "Are you guys, um, together?"

Nicolas laughed. "Together? Do you mean, we are gay? We make love? Mon Dieu, non! We like girls," he said. Cassie said a silent prayer of thanks to the universe. "We play football. How you say, soccer? We drink tonight for our win over team Bordeaux today."

"That's awesome!" Cassie beamed. Many things were awesome, very suddenly. So, so many.

Michel ambled over and extended a hand. Cassie, putting down her drink after a few more sips, eagerly took it and shook it with gusto. "Hiii," she gushed, her soft, fleshy cheeks going rosy. The gin was working its magic on her. Well, the gin and the double-serving of male hotness that now surrounded her.

"Nicolas says you play football?" Cassie said.

"Oui," said Michel, nodding and smiling.

"I can tell. You guys are in great shape," she purred. And cringed, again—oh, God, Cassie, did you just say that out loud? You dork!

Michel chuckled and nodded. "Yes, we exercise hard. But now, no exercise. Now, we go out and have fun."

"Good plan!" Cassie said, regaining her composure.

"Hey, we go next to the discoteque. We go to dance. You come?" Michel said.

Cassie blinked. Butterflies in her stomach again. Go with these guys? Guys she doesn't even know? "Umm... I don't know, it's kind of late—"

"Ah, you should come. You are in Paris! Live the life!" Nicolas said.

Cassie wanted to say yes. Really wanted to. But---

Not waiting for an answer, Nicolas plunked a fistful of Euros down on the table—enough for all three of their drinks. "Merci, monsieur," he said to the bartender. He draped an arm around Cassie on one side, while Nicolas draped an arm around the small of her back from the other, and the two men nudged her up out of her seat and toward the door. Cassie shrugged and decided to give caution a big ol' throw into the wind. He's right. It's Paris. It's vacation. Time for this girl to go out and have fun!

...

Hip-hop beats pounded on the packed dance floor. Cassie downed a shot of some gin concoction with her two new friends. Then a mixed drink—whatever it was, it was yummy. The last of her inhibitions headed home for the night, and Cassie joined the throng of dancers. Michel watched her fling her arms skyward, kept watching her as she swayed her young body to the rhythm, her eyes half-closed, her mind and soul melding with the beat. He half-smiled and filed in through the crowd toward her.

"Hey-y-y-y," she drawled, all smiles, as he approached. He swayed in sync with her, his chest just inches from hers. His hands drifted up, fingertips grazing her exposed sides. She didn't flinch. So his hands returned to her sides, touched them, and gently slid down, resting on her hips. She let him. Then her hands clasped his upper arms, drawing him fully into her, as she lowered her face and looked up at him with fiery eyes. Their thighs knocked into each other and started to move together, as his groin brushed into hers. Cassie felt a firmness underneath Michel's trousers, and knew it was an erection. A shiver ran up her spine.

And suddenly, another chest was on her spine, too. Cassie flinched, inhaled sharply with surprise. Her head turned up, and the whiff of cologne raiding her nostrils assured her it was Nicolas. Here she was, sandwiched between two male bodies. Two HOT male bodies. Cassie, a little tipsy and starting to feel a little horny, relaxed and let her arms wave about, giving the two men all the access they needed to run their hands all over her.

Which they most surely did. Cassie's eyes closed, and her breaths quickened, as Nicolas's fingertips landed on her lower back and wound their way up, tracing and rubbing her backside in circular motions until they reached her shoulders and grasped them. His firm fingers kneaded the supple flesh of her shoulder blades. While Michel's hands wound further, further around her hips, daring to cross over to her ass cheeks. She didn't stop him. Around her buttocks his hands rolled, until they met at the crack of her ass and curled down, gripping her buttocks just firmly enough to pull her completely into him. "Unnnh," she exhaled, loudly, through a gaping mouth, as his hard-on pressed dead-on against her already-moistening sex.

Michel's hands slid slowly up, fingertips tracing the slopes of her behind, until they found the plain of her lower back and rested there. While Nicolas, behind her, threw his hips into her. "Mmmm," she cooed again. His dick was hard, too, and was pressing just as firmly into her ass. Nicolas' hips retreated, then ground into Cassie again. The strength of the muscly man's motions into her young frame made Cassie arch her back and toss back her head, which crash-landed on Nicolas' shoulder. She lay her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck, her lips just a millimeter from his neck's exposed skin. He dipped his face downward, and his lips planted a tender kiss at the nape of her neck.

A kiss!--Cassie was expecting it, but it was still such a surprise. Such a sweet surprise. She felt her knees go wobbly, a little dizzy, and hot—the heat of the two sweating male bodies was radiating over hers from both sides. And the heat of her own body, which was getting more and more worked up with every second. Cassie felt beads of sweat under her blouse. I could just rip off my clothes right here, she thought—holy shit, where did that come from? She bolted up, shocked at herself. Felt Nicolas' hands trace from her shoulders down to her sides, just subtly teasing at the edges of her round, fleshy breasts. "Mmmm," she moaned. "Your hands feel good."

Michel smiled. "You are having fun?"

"God, yes," Cassie said into his ear.

"I am, too. You are very sexy," Michel said.

Cassie giggled. "Merci. You too."

"Am I sexy?" Nicolas chimed in.

"Oui, oui," Cassie murmured, still giggling.

"We are both sexy? Who is more sexy?" he said.

"Oh my God, I don't know," Cassie said.

"If you could kiss only one of us, who would you kiss?"

Cassie's eyes darted to Nicolas, then to Michel. A very naughty feeling came over her in that split second. "I can only kiss one? That's not fair."

Michel leaned in, his lips closing in on hers. "Okay, we will be fair," he said, as he sealed his lips around hers in a full open-mouthed kiss. His hands roamed up to her chest and cupped her breasts in his palms.

Nicolas locked his arms firmly around Cassie, holding her tightly, his body against hers, and his own lips kissed her cheek, then her neck, then her cheek again. Cassie's heart was beating a mile a minute, and a wet, warm lust built up in her loins, as she felt both lips on her lips and flesh all at once, all while four male hands caressed her torso and limbs, rubbing and stimulating her all over, everywhere. She cocked her head back, her lips leaving Michel's and landing on Nicolas', as her tongue and his enfolded each other and her lips and his locked together as one. Michel's lips wound downward, a trail of kisses flowing along her neck, to her chest, his tongue flicking and dabbing at the summit of her milky-white breasts. "Huhhhh," Cassie gasped, hot and breathless.

Michel took her hand and guided her over to a sofa, laying her down as Nicolas dropped into the sofa cushion beside her. The two men lifted her bare legs up into Nicolas' lap. And as Michel raised another cocktail to her lips and let her take a long, full sip and then pressed his lips into hers again in another sensuous, wet and boozy tongue kiss, Cassie shifted her butt into the cushions and stretched her legs. Nicolas began to caresses her calves, working his fingertips deep, pressing into the taut muscles and sinews. His fingertips made circles up and around the skin, careening to her ankles and then working her pumps loose as he began to massage her feet.

She moaned softly into Michel's open mouth. Only in that second did she realize how tired her feet really were—she'd been on them all day, first while gallavanting about the streets of Paris all day with Mom and Dad, then while dancing the night away in this club. Nicolas' strong hands swept around her heels, gliding up her soft, weary soles. "Ooh, God, I needed that," she cooed. Her soles were practically putty in his hands, and she let her shoes drop one by one to the floor and tilted both her bare feet toward him, flexing and dipping them downward into his sturdy palms, wordlessly encouraging him to go on.

Michel's hand was meantime rubbing around in her solar plexus, his thumbs brushing at the base of her breasts, while he served the soft skin of her neck with more kisses. Cassie moaned sweet little moans of pleasure, reveling in this full-body pampering. Taking one more sip of the cocktail, she giggled, "Oh, God, I could stay on this sofa alllll night. You guys are gonna have to carry me out of here."

Nicolas and Michel glanced at each other and winked. "If you say so," Nicolas said, stuffing her shoes into her purse and snatching up her legs and purse in one swift motion as Michel scooper her up, his arms locking under hers and lifting her up. "Eeeek!" she screeched, and burst out laughing as her two new friends carried her out the club and into the back of a waiting taxi.

"Where are we going?" she asked, perched between the two in the back seat. Their hands were on her thighs, exploring the silky-smooth curves leading under the folds of her skirt. She breathed slowly through open lips and parted her thighs, letting them explore.

"Somewhere less crowded," Michel said. "You will like."

. . .

That somewhere, of course, was Michel and Nicolas' shared apartment. The three of them burst in through the door. Nicolas headed to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. No sooner had he stuck a bottle opener into the cork seal, though, when he noticed he was alone.

Then he heard Cassie squeal and laugh some more from behind Michel's bedroom door. Then the sounds of lips smacking. Open bottle in hand, Nicolas headed toward Michel's room. There on the bed, a barefoot Cassie sat, locking lips with a shirtless Michel. Michel traced his hands down her front, nudging the mounds of her breasts, then started prying her blouse loose from the hem of her skirt.

Nicolas took a swig of Chablis, gave the bottle to Cassie, who took another mouthful. While Nicolas reached in and joined in loosening her blouse. Cassie put the bottle down and stretched up her arms, letting both men pull her blouse up over her torso, up over her head, her arms, and past her hands. It fluttered to the floor, and both men's eyes feasted on the milky-white smoothness of Cassie's body, unveiled and quivering with anticipation between them.

Nicolas started to kiss the back of her neck, while Michel's tongue roamed around the wine-soaked warmth of her mouth, his lips smacking hers again and again as he and Cassie drank deep of each other's kisses. Nicolas's lips kissed their way along her shoulders, her back. Cassie flexed and shifted her backside's taut muscles as she purred, her body thrilling to his lips. She breathed a sudden intake of hot breath, and tensed—Nicolas' fingertips found her bra's clasp and unhooked it. Michel guided the unclasped bra down her arms as her heart sped up and a tightness took hold of her torso. She looked into Michel's eyes with one part awe, one part nervousness, and three or four parts raw animal lust. This was really happening, her brain said. And her body was oh, so ready.

"Lay back," Nicolas whispered into her ear. She obliged and let him guide her bare trunk down onto the mattress, laying flat on her back. He leaned in over her and started to kiss her lips. Cassie felt Michel stretch out her legs, run his hands over and around the silky-smooth slopes of her inner thighs, then tug at the waistband of her panties. His head dove in between her legs, his fingertips tugged at her panties some more, and—"Ohhh God," she shuddered. His tongue had just lapped at the trembling folds of her bared pussy. He lapped again. And then worked his tongue around the rim of her slit, kissing it just like he'd been kissing her mouth moments before.

Cassie's hips shifted about, restlessness taking them over, and her hands dove beneath her skirt and began to push the fabric down off her hips. Michel unzipped the skirt's zipper and helped her clear skirt and panties both from her buttocks in one swift four-hand jerk. Down her thighs, past her calves, and past her ankles her last remaining clothes went. They ended in a bunch around one foot, and she kicked them aside, tossing them to the floor, and she lay back, eyes closed and chest rising and falling hard with fast, heavy breaths. She was utterly naked, on this strange bed in the middle of Paris, and there was no doubt in her mind that she was about to be fucked.

Michel returned to licking her pussy. His tongue's tip pushed and prodded at her pussy lips and sank in beneath them. Cassie gasped. She shifted her hips to the right, to the left, feeling his tongue roam and weave within her fast-moistening depths. He inserted a finger into her slit, just beneath his tongue, and finger and tongue began to stroke and tickle her inner flesh together. "Oh... ohhh.... Ohhh Goddd that feels so good," Cassie cried out as her hips involuntarily writhed. And she came. It was like a dam broke somewhere within her, as a flood of her juices rushed and soaked the sheets under her.

"Heh heh, you are having fun?" Nicolas murmured. "We make you say 'ooh la la'?"

"Ooh la la" she giggled, all smiles. Kissed Nicolas some more. And then sat up. "Your turn now," she said, sliding off the bed onto the floor and resting there on her haunches. She beckoned both men to come toward her. They followed, standing before her, awaiting her next move. Cassie was taking charge.

Nicolas now towered over her, his cock inches from her pursed lips. She took hold of his cock with one hand and slipped his cock head into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it while rolling her fingertips around the shaft. Her lips slid off his cock head with a wet plop. Then she gingerly opened her mouth wider and took in his full length, wrapping her tongue around his cock's underside and sliding inch after inch of him in past her lips. She started to bob her head up and down on his shaft, covering every inch of it with full-throated, eager sucks and slurps. Shivers of pleasure rolled through Nicolas, and the big swarthy man's muscly legs felt rubbery and weak. "Merde," he chuckled, and put his palm to the wall for support.

Michel loomed over her on the left. Her left hand reached up, and her fingers clutched his erect dick and began to jerk it with gusto, palms and fingertips rushing up and down his cock meat from base to tip to base with speed. Michel groaned, his cock flesh growing hot with her strokes, every nerve ending within his erection practically singing with excited pleasure.