Strangers on a Plane Ch. 03

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The two travelers finally end up in bed - and it's epic.
3.3k words
4.63
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/13/2023
Created 12/02/2016
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petitmort
petitmort
769 Followers

A light rain fell as Derek travelled by taxi down the Rue Lafayette. It was mid-afternoon and the streets were strangely quiet. He felt as if he was on the brink of something momentous – an experience which would change the direction of his life and one he would not soon forget.

On the flight from New York, he had met a woman. Not just any woman. A creature of extraordinary qualities. Bright. Sophisticated. And sexy as hell. Nicole, he soon learned, was an editor who grew up in Paris and now lived in the 9th near Place Pigalle.

He'd noticed her immediately – petite with auburn hair and green, catlike eyes. She had the body of a ballerina with a slender waist and a superb ass. He managed to finagle a seat next to her and they talked throughout the flight. Their conversation on the plane, and the one that followed on the phone last night, would be etched permanently on his psyche.

She related the story of how she grew up in a liberated family in Paris. Her mother, a fashion model, loved to show off her exquisite body. She would entertain the beautiful people – actors, models, athletes – and parade around in revealing outfits. She would zero in on one man and then seduce him, stripping off her clothes seductively and then bringing him, and her, to the heights of sexual pleasure.

Nicole watched all this. She and her brother Pierre would peek through their mother's bedroom window from the balcony of their Parisian apartment. They would watch together as their mother performed fellatio and then fucked one man after another. They would huddle together and watch the men push her down onto the bed and fuck her mercilessly, pounding her until she screamed in ecstasy.

Nicole and her brother would get so turned on watching, she would practically cum right on the spot. It was no wonder their brother-sister relationship soon turned into something much more.

Nicole fell in lust with her brother, Derek learned. She'd dream about him, fantasize about him, and watch him as he too exposed his handsome body on the plage naturiste. She became so obsessed with him that she would finger herself to orgasm each night imagining him on top of her. Finally, after watching their mother performing soixante-neuf on a man and then fucking him wildly, the dam burst and she welcomed her brother into her bed.

A long, passionate affair ensued where Pierre would steal into Nicole's room every night. They would make passionate love, trying every position they had learned from their mother. Nicole was reticent to fuck at first – she was raised Catholic and thought it was sinful – so she became expert at giving head, sucking her brother so expertly he would explode with cum. Soon, though, she became so desperate, she let him fuck her. Deeply and hard. Until she came and came.

Nicole had told her this story on the plane and continued over the phone after they arrived in Paris. Derek was beyond turned on. He was in a perpetual state of arousal. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Her brother. The things they did. He had a 24-hour-a-day hard on.

Now, riding in the taxi to her loft, he wondered what was in store.

"Viens," she chirped over the intercom.

She lived in a vintage building. It looked like it dated from the mid-1800s. An elevator with an iron gate carried him to the fourth floor. He found her door and knocked.

A moment later, it opened and Nicole stood before him in a flowing caftan.

He didn't know what to say. What do you say to a woman whom you hardly know who has spilled her sexual history to you and given you the best phone sex of your life? So he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. As her hand caressed the back of his head, her tongue found his.

"I want you so badly," he muttered, pressing her against the wall.

"Moi aussi," she said breathily. "J'ai penseé a toi tous le temps."

He breathed in her perfume. It was intoxicating.

She led him into the loft space. Twenty foot ceilings, huge windows overlooking the street, and walls full of books. In the center of the room, a long couch with big pillows adorned a rug of Middle Eastern origin.

"Quelque chose à boire, mon chèr?" she purred.

"Sure," he answered.

"Un spritz, avec Compari?" she asked.

He nodded.

He watched her move to a tray sitting on a small antique table. So elegant. So graceful. When she handed one drink to him and curled up on the couch next to him, he glimpsed the tawny skin of her breast.

He place his hand gently on the nape of her neck, fingering the tendrils of hair. She rubbed her cheek against his hand like a cat.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he said evenly. "Your voice, your face, our time on the plane."

She took a sudden intake of air as if to say, "Oui, c'est la mème chose avec moi."

He wondered if she, too, had been obsessed with their conversation. If the family secrets she'd told had lit a fire deep inside of her the way it had for him.

"I dreamt about you last night," he continued. "I dreamt it was me living in your childhood home. It was me who took you out on that balcony to watch your mother having sex. It was me who took your virginity."

Her lips parted and her chest heaved.

He looked deep into her eyes. "I dreamt I was the one who fucked you 'til you screamed."

Her hands slipped under her caftan. She touched her breast.

"Oh, Derek. Je veux ça."

He gently ran his fingers over her cheek.

"I've been thinking of the things I want to do with you."

"Dis mois," she implored.

"First, I want to know more about your brother. You say you slept together almost every night before he left for school. Did you see him after that? What became of your relationship?"

"He went to university in London. And then to live in the U.S. He's a businessman now. He has a family."

"Do you still see him?" Derek asked.

Again, that quick intake of air.

"Oui."

Derek nodded.

"Do you have a picture of him I could see?"

She stood and moved to the bookcase. She picked up a framed photo and returned to the couch, handing it to him.

Derek looked at the photo. It was Nicole and Pierre, on the water, a sailboat perhaps. He had flowing curls of dark hair and deep brown eyes. His arm was around her. They looked blissful.

"When was this taken?" he asked.

"The summer he left for school. About five or six years ago."

Derek studied the photo. Then it dawned on him. Her brother looked just like him. They had the same swept back curly brown hair and dark eyes. Derek had an athletic body, as did Pierre. Put on a pair of sunglasses, and they could be twins.

He handed the photo back to Nicole.

"Are you still in touch with him?" he asked.

"Bien sûr," she replied. "il est mon frère."

He looked at her for a moment.

"Do you still fuck?" he asked.

Nicole looked down at her drink.

"Non, ce n'est pas possible. Il a une famille. His wife is dear to me. I couldn't."

She looked up at him, a look of sadness behind her eyes.

"But you think about him, don't you? About fucking him."

She looked at her drink again.

"Oui."

Derek reached out and raised her chin to look at him.

"Is that why you came on to me? Because I remind you of him?"

She looked at and took a deep breath.

"Why is anyone attracted to anyone? It's a confluence of factors, no? Memory, fantasy. Who's to say? It's...très compliqué. D'accord?"

"Oui," he nodded. "It certainly is complicated."

She moved to Derek and took his face in her hands.

"Yesterday, I had the good fortune of meeting a man who is intelligent and caring, who I find incredibly sexy. And he seems to see the same thing in me. Is it wrong for me to act? And if I'm attracted to him because his appearance touches me deeply, if it reminds me of my first yearning to be touched, to be taken by a man, is that so very wrong?"

Derek looked at her and smiled.

"No, it's not wrong. In fact, it's a turn on for me too. You see, I had a sister. And she was very beautiful. Like you."

"C'est vrai?"

"Yes, it's true. She was dark like you, with a dancer's body. We love each other deeply. But we never consummated our relationship."

"Would you have liked to?" she asked. "Had you the chance, would you have taken her to your bed?"

Derek looked out the window.

"Perhaps, if the opportunity was there. Perhaps I would have. God knows, I thought about it enough."

"You thought about fucking her?" she asked.

"Well, she was the first woman I saw naked."

"Tell me," she said, turning to face me on the couch, her knees tucked under her.

"Well, we had a pool and a dressing area. I put a face mirror on a shelf so I could watch her get undressed."

"Tu es méchant," she smiled.

"When she went in the dressing room, I got in my spot and watched her peel off her jeans and shirt. She had a great body. I watched as she unfastened her bra and pulled down her panties. I remember seeing her pussy, the first time I'd ever seen a shaved one. I was pretty fascinated."

"And turned on?" she inquired.

"Oh yeah. I had the biggest hard on."

"Did you want to slip into the dressing room and show her?"

Derek laughed.

"I don't know. I wasn't as brave as you. I think I was afraid I'd get caught. But that night, when I lay in bed, I kept picturing her naked. I stroked myself like there was no tomorrow. I came so hard."

Nicole licked her lips. Her hands were on her bare thighs.

"Tell me more, Derek," she panted. "What did you imagine?

When you were jacking yourself off? What were you picturing?"

"I was imagining her in bed. Naked. Her bedroom was next to mine and we shared a wall. Laying on my back on the bed, I could hear her just feet away. She was touching herself. Feeling her breasts and pinching her nipples. I could hear her starting to moan. Her fingers had found her pussy. I would be stroking myself at the same time. She was getting hotter and hotter. Louder and louder. And I was getting harder and harder. So close to coming."

Nicole's hand was between her legs now. She was touching herself.

"As I listened to her pleasure rise, I would hold my cock straight up and imagine she was on top of me. Raising and lowering her incredible body on my cock. Her pussy wrapped around me. So hot. So wet. In my mind's eye I see my cock spreading her. She was moaning so loud I knew she was about to cum."

Nicole was fingering her pussy now, her mouth open.

"When I couldn't stand it anymore, I would get up and slip to her door in the darkness. I'd open the door silently to not wake the parents. I'd slip into her room in the darkness and under her sheets. I'd feel her warm body against my skin."

Nicole's eyelids were at half-mast now. Her breath was ragged.

"I'd say, 'I could hear you from my room, Sis, wouldn't you rather have my cock inside of you?' And I'd feel her hand wrap around my cock and she'd let out a sigh. A sigh filled with yearning and want. And then she'd turn her back to me and slowly rub her beautiful ass against my cock and say:

'Give it to me, big brother. Make a woman out of me.'"

Nicole's whole body shuddered. She was suddenly in his face, kissing him deeply. Her breasts were heaving and he could see her finger was covered with her wetness. She took his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled it.

"I'm going up to my bed now," she said with a sultry voice. "I'm going to make myself ready for you. I'll be waiting...big brother."

She stood and walked to a spiral staircase that led to a sleeping loft. He watched her climb the stairs and heard her undressing and slipping into bed.

He took a last swig of his drink and began to unbutton his shirt. He took off his shoes and dropped his pants. He was stark naked in the middle of her living room. Then, he started to hear her moans.

He imagined her rubbing her clit, getting herself off, making herself ready. His cock twitched in anticipation. By the time he turned off all the lights and made his way to the spiral staircase, her moaning had become whimpers. And his cock had become rock hard.

Slowly he felt his way up the staircase. The sounds from her bed were so sexy, so orgasmic, he thought of the sirens from the Odyssey. Surely, there was no way he could resist.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out a huge bed with an ornate headboard. She was covered by a single white sheet. In the darkness, he could make out her body. It was writhing. Writhing with pleasure.

"Ohhhhhhh, mon Dieu," she moaned. It was as if she was on the very cusp of orgasm.

He felt his way to the edge of the bed and slowly slipped under the soft, cotton sheet. He reached for her body and his fingers found her hips. The bed had felt silky, luxurious, but it was nothing compared to the softness of her skin.

"Ohhhhh, mon frère," she moaned. "Est-il toi?"

He hands moved up her torso and cupped her breasts. He pressed his strong body against her back.

"Yes, it's me," he whispered.

She rubbed her ass against him, her cheeks enveloping his hard on. It was his turn to moan.

She reached between her legs and stroked his throbbing balls. Her hand found his cock and she wrapped her fingers around his hardness. She turned to look at him.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered. "No. I need you to fuck me."

He positioned the head of his cock against her slick opening. She arched her back, pressing her hot, wet pussy against the tip.

"Come on, big brother. Make a woman out of me."

With one massive thrust, he buried himself into her. She let out a cry that was unlike anything he'd ever heard.

Maybe it was the long buildup. The hours of foreplay on the plane. The hours more on the phone. Maybe it was because there was so much pent up desire on both of their parts. But there was no foreplay. No preliminaries. They just fucked.

He rammed himself into the tightest, wettest, hottest pussy he had ever felt. With every thrust she cried out. It seemed she was cumming from the moment he entered her, her body shaking and undulating with desire.

She reached back and gripped his ass with her fingernails, begging him to keep pumping her. He pulled her up on her knees, her head on the pillow, and pummeled her from behind like a jackhammer. He couldn't believe how good she felt. How tight. How hot.

And how vocal. When he grabbed her hips and plunged himself deeply into her, holding it there, pressing deep insider her, she literally screamed into her pillow. She spread her knees with her ass in the air and gave herself to him. He buried himself into her so hard she had to put her hands against the headboard to push back.

Finally, he relented and pulled out. She looked back at him with fire in her eyes. He lay on his back and lifted his long, hard cock straight in the air. He had never seen his own cock so big.

"Come and get it, little sister," he growled. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

She looked at his cock lustily and pounced on it. In an instant, it was in both her hands and in her mouth.

She gave him the most frenzied, fabulous blow job he had ever experienced. She wasn't lying, all those nights sucking her brother's cock had made her an expert. No, she was more than that. She was a blowjob virtuoso.

It took every ounce of effort to keep from coming. She was tonguing him and licking him and doing things with her lips and hands that he'd never felt. Then, she started to deep throat him and he had to stop her. She was going to suck his cum right out of him.

"Get on top of me," he panted. "I want you to ride me! Ride my cock!"

She unsheathed his cock from her mouth, wiped her lips, and smiled. She straddled him and lowered her pussy on his hard shaft.

He watched her face as he entered her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she took his full length.

She started to move, sensuously, up and down his rock hard cock. Sliding slowly over every inch of his masculinity. Her mouth was open and a shock of hair fanned her face.

He put both hands on her hips and took in her exquisite beauty. Her mom may have been the fashion model but he couldn't imagine a woman more beautiful than her. Her breasts weren't large but they were perfectly shaped with nipples that stuck up and out, begging to be licked.

She caught him looking at her and smiled. She gathered her hair and stacked it on top of her head. Raising her arms this way caused her breasts to lift higher and Derek's cock to throb.

"Do you like that, Big Brother?" she cooed. "Do you like my tits? I've see you sneaking peeks at them at breakfast. When I'm just wearing a t-shirt and nothing else. Do you like the way tmy nipples get big and hard when I'm excited. Like right now. You've got me so excited. Look how big they are!"

Now Derek's eyes were rolling in his head. He gave her a sharp thrust with his cock.

"You like that, huh?" she whispered. "My nipples are so sensitive right now. Because you've got me so hot. I could cum just by touching them. Should I do that?"

Derek's chest was heaving. He couldn't speak. He just gave her another thrust with his cock.

"Oh, mon Dieu," she moaned. "I'll take that as a yes."

She started to finger her nipples, one with each hand, and her pelvis was making slow figure eights.

"Oh, c'est si bon," she moaned. "J'approche."

Derek was holding her hips, their movement making the most amazing sensation on his cock. He lifted his hips and she let out a squeal.

"Oooooooh, je viens. Je viens. I come. I come."

And at that moment, he realized, this is what he fantasized about all these years ago. His sister, his beautiful baby sister, riding him, bringing herself to orgasm while riding his cock.

And that tipped him over the edge. He exploded huge ropes of cum deep inside her pussy.

When she collapsed on his chest, and lay caressing him, he realized he had lived a fantasy he had once revered but had long forgotten. What other fantasies would this remarkable woman conjure up?

petitmort
petitmort
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4 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
No French lessons needed

I know ZERO French and had no problem with the stories. The context clues are more than enough to figure out what is being said.

Great story. Made it hard not to cum.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
Good story, but!

Ellmarko is right, if your not fluent in French, reading this story is a struggle. I'd suggest that after you use French for the first time in your story, follow it up in English using (Italics), after that just use italics to convert.

ellmarkoellmarkoabout 7 years ago
Need Help with French

The writing is just erotic. It is beautifully crafted. I only wish there was a translation of the French so as to completely understand. You certainly get the feel of it, even without, but a translation would enhance the writing moment.

prop69prop69about 7 years ago
Fantastic story. Hope you follow-up with another chapter and what happens next

I wonder how many Brothers marry a girl that reminded them of their sister. (and visa versa) Maybe they had a sexual relationship or at least a fantasy with their sibling.

The writing was excellent. A little problem with guessing the French words.

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