Strangers on a Plane Ch. 04

"Thanks," she said.

"Great dinner," Derek said.

"I thought the pasta was a bit overcooked," she said.

"The pasta was delicious," he answered. "Listen, I'm thinking of taking off pretty soon," Derek said.

"Why?" Nicole asked, turning to him.

"Well, I want to give you guys a chance to catch up."

She turned and looked at him, trying to read him.

"Ok, but you can't leave before dessert," she said, covering. "I made my tarte tatin."

"Oh, well," he said. "I couldn't possibly miss your tarte tatin."

She gave him a playful shove.

After dessert and a touch of brandy, Derek politely gave his respects and prepared to go. The more Pierre drank, the more Derek didn't like him. He didn't mind cutting the night short to be rid of him.

"I'm going to call it a night too," Colette said. "That wine went straight to my head."

"She could never hold her wine," Pierre said, loudly. "How she ended up with a French sot like me, I'll never know."

"Just unlucky I guess," Colette answered with a wry smile.

"Say, Derek," Pierre said. Be a gent and hail her a cab, will you? I don't want her ending up in the Bois de Bologne."

"I can hail my own cab," she scoffed. "Have another drink."

Nicole saw Derek and Colette to the door, kissing each of them on both cheeks. Pierre stayed on the couch, drinking.

In the elevator, Derek felt the heat of jealousy rising in his face. He didn't want to let on to Colette. She was staring straight ahead. Finally, she let out a deep sigh.

"So where are you staying?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"At Le Clef. It's on Avenue Kleber."

"I know it. It's not far from where I'm staying. We can share a cab."

On the street, he quickly hailed a cab and the two of them climbed into the back seat.

"Two stops," Derek said to the driver. "First, Le Clef. Then, Shangri-La."

As the cab sped off, Derek was struck by Colette's singular beauty. Sitting at the dinner table, he hadn't fully appreciated the loveliness of her legs. Now, in the cab, in her short cocktail dress, they were on full display.

"The Shangri-La?" she was saying. "Fancy dancy."

"I heard it had a good view of the Eiffel Tower," Derek shrugged.

"Well, does it?" she asked.

He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"It's amazing," he chuckled. "From my terrace, it's like you're at the IMAX. Larger than life."

"Wow," she answered.

There is a short pause. He thought about Nicole and Pierre back at her place.

"Could I see it? The view?" she asked. "It may be the only way for me to see it."

Another short pause.

"Sure, why not" he answered. "Driver, we want to go straight to the Shangri-La," he said, matter-of-factly.

Back at the loft, Nicole and Pierre were sitting side by side on the couch. He was in his shirt sleeves, sipping a cognac. She had her legs curled under her as she listened to him intently. (Their French is translated into English.)

"My boss, the VP of my group, is a real asshole," he said. "Everything is about making him look good. Helping him get ahead. There's no concern for anybody else."

"Sounds awful," said Nicole, sympathetically.

"I'd quit if I could," he continued. "But I wouldn't get my bonus. And Colette...well, she likes to buy her things."

He took a drink of his cognac.

"How is it going with Colette?" Nicole asked.

Pierre leaned his head back and took a deep breath.

"I don't know anymore. It was so easy at first. We were in love. Now...it just feels like work."

"Relationships aren't easy," she answered. "They're journeys. Uphill, downhill. You know that."

"I know," he said with a sigh. "It's just...I don't know...she's not like you."

"What does that mean?" she said.

"She doesn't get me," he said, shaking his head. "I swear, Nicki. She doesn't get me like you do."

Nicole got up and stood behind him on the couch. She placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Give it time, Pierre" she said, starting to rub his shoulders. "Give it time."

He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feelings from her fingers.

"I just wish it was like it used to be," he said. "God, that feels good. I'd almost forgotten about your famous back rubs."

"You better not have," she said, giving him a playful swat on the head. "I've given you enough of them."

She rubbed his neck and he let out a low moan.

"You have so much tension stored up," she said. "I can feel it in your neck. And your shoulders. It's not good for you, big brother. You've got to let the tension go."

He let out another low moan.

"You know what I need?" he asked. "I need one of your patented massages. Full body. The Nicki special."

"What? Now?"

"You said I needed to de-stress. You said it was for my health."

"Yeah, well, I'm a bit out of practice."

"Come on, Nicki. It'll be like old times. I swear, I really do need it."

There was a pause while she considered this unexpected request.

"Well, I think I have some oil up in the bathroom. I'll be right back. You...make yourself comfortable."

She climbed the spiral staircase which led to her sleeping loft. In the master bathroom, she found two bottles of massage oil in cabinet under the sink. She put the bottles in the sink and ran hot water to warm them. While she waited, she looked at herself in the mirror.

"What am I doing?" she thought to herself. "I want to talk to him, not work out the knots in his back. Well, maybe we can talk at the same time."

She decided to change out of her slacks and blouse to avoid getting oil on them. She put on her silk robe instead.

She wrapped the two bottles of massage oil in a towel and headed for the staircase. Passing her bedroom, was startled to find Pierre laying bare-chested on her bed.

"You told me to be make myself comfortable," he said. "Well, I'm comfortable here."

Standing in Derek's hotel room, Collette was struck by the grandeur of his suite, a gorgeous neo-classical room of soft cream and beige. A large, deep bed and marquetry desk adorned the bedroom; a seating area and French doors led to a private rooftop terrace. Derek flipped on some music and cleared his camera bag and a few assorted items off the bed.

"This is amazing," she said, taking in the room.

"You haven't seen the best part."

He moved to the French doors and paused.

"Check this out," he said, opening the drapes dramatically.

The Eiffel Tower, brilliantly lit up, loomed over them.

"Holy shit," says Collette. "Pardon my French."

"I told you. Best view in Paris."

The view was truly astounding. Even in her tipsy state, it took her breath away.

"Why don't you go out on the terrace and take in the view. I'll make us a couple of drinks."

The terrace was secluded, with six-foot hedges on both ends of the balcony. A chaise lounge and a café table with two chairs were the only furniture. Colette leaned against the wrought iron railing, looking at the lights. Derek joined her with a drink in each hand.

"I just got a text from Pierre," she says casually. "He's going to stay the night at Nicole's. They have a lot of catching up to do, I guess."

Derek bristled.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, handing the drink to her.

He wondered if she had any idea of their history.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing the drink.

"A little mini-bar improv," he said.

She took a sip.

"It's delicious."

"It's my lame attempt at a Brandy Alexander."

"No, I love it. Be careful, too many of those and I won't be responsible for my actions."

Derek watched her take a long sip of her drink, her breasts oozing out of her low-cut dress. That's a lot more cleavage than at the beginning of the night, he thought to himself. Did she adjust something for my benefit?

She turned to look out on the night, arching her back slightly. He looked at her slinky body from behind. That's a damn near perfect ass, he thought.

She turned her head and looked at him with a beguiling look.

"Take my picture?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I was just thinking...it's so pretty...if you felt like it...it might be fun."

"Oh," he said. "Sure. Why not?"

He stepped back inside the suite to fetch his camera bag. His thoughts turned to Nicole, but he quickly banished them from his mind.

"Where do you want me?" she asked, cocking her hip as Derek returned to the terrace.

He surveyed the terrace and pointed to the corner where the balcony railing created a right angle.

"Stand there," he said, his voice matter-of-fact, his manner assured.

She moved to the spot and gave him a fetching look.

"Nice," he says as he raised the camera to his eye and took the shot.

The flash startled her, but it excited her as well. She felt like, well, a model.

She turned sideways and lifted her shoulder, sporting a pouty look.

"I like that. Good."

The camera flashed again. Again, she felt a spurt of adrenalin.

She spread her arms and held the railing behind her. Her breasts poured out to the camera, looking milky white in the reflected light.

"You're a natural," he says. Flash.

He looked up from behind the camera.

"I think we got some good ones," he said.

"Can we try a few more?" she asked. "This is so fun for me."

"OK," he said. "What do you want to do?"

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, coyly.

He looked at her for a moment and then brought the camera to his eye.

"Why don't you sex it up a little bit," he said finally.

She looked at him, hesitating.

"Imagine you're looking at your lover," he said. "And you want him to want you."

Her eyes softened, the lids at half-mast. She bent over and puckered her lips.

"OK," he instructed. "Now don't act sexy. Feel sexy."

She arched her back, shook her hair in front of her face, and licked her lips.

"That's better," he encouraged. "I'm your lover. Make me want you."

She pushed her arms together, pressing her breasts so they swelled out of the top of her dress.

"That's it," he murmured, snapping her pose.

She hiked her dress up high, just below her ass.

"Good. Now make me want to take you."

She turned her back to him, arching her back, and showed her ass to him.

"Come on," he encouraged. "Make me feel it. Make me feel the lust."

She leaned on the railing, and pulled her dress up higher. She was wearing a black, lacy thong. Her ass was phenomenal.

"Great," he said. "Now you're talkin'."

The camera flashed repeatedly.

She reached back and pulled the thong down with one hand. She turned and gave him a come hither look, her hair falling over one eye.

"Fantastic," he said, finally taking the camera from his eye. "You sure you've never done this before?"

She stood up, panting.

"No, I never... that was so exciting! I mean, you said it and I just did it. It was like you were inside my head!"

He took off the flash attachment.

"I want to try something a little different," he said. "If you're game."

"Sure," she said. "I'm game for anything."

"I want to shoot a few using natural light. Against the background of the tower, it could look really striking."

"OK, sure" she said. "Let's do it."

"Only this time, I think it would be best," he continued, "if you took off your clothes."

"Well, if you're going to give me a proper massage, I'm going to have to bloody well take my pants off."

Nicole was standing at the foot of the bed. Pierre, was laying on his back, leaning against the headboard. His chest was bare and muscled. He always had a great body and the years certainly hadn't robbed him of that.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants. He was wearing briefs and Nicole could see the outline of his good-sized bulge.

"Take these off too?" he said. "Like old times?"

"Maybe you'd better leave those on," she answered. "I'm not sure Colette would appreciate it."

"Pas de quoi. Why should she care? She's only my wife. My dear, adoring, forever faithful wife."

He took a drink of cognac.

"I think that's enough cognac," she said. "You're starting to sound like Father."

She took his glass on placed it on the side table.

"Well, turn over, then" she said with a wave of her arm. "You know how it works."

He rolled over onto his stomach. She moved onto the bed, kneeling next to him. She lay the bottle of oil on the towel by her side. She started by gently laying her hands on his skin. With no oil. Just to acclimate him to the sensation. After doing a quick circuit of his body, her hands left him.

Then, the feeling of warm oil dripping on his back. And her hands rubbing it across his skin. He let out a low moan of pleasure.

"Ahhhh, how I've missed this," he said.

She went to work on his upper body and spent a good twenty minutes loosening the muscles, joints and ligaments of his back, neck and arms.

"That feels so good, Sis," he moaned. "You haven't lost your touch."

"It's like sex and riding a bike," she said. "You don't forget."

"You know where I'm really sore," he said. "Right here."

He gestured to his lower back and butt.

"It must be all that flying," he added.

"Oh, poor baby," she said. "Let's see what little sister can do."

She moved on top of him, straddling his legs. She then slowly pulled the waist of his bikini briefs down, revealing his ass.

"I don't want to get any oil on these," she said.

"Good idea."

She then poured the warm oil into her palm and swept down the small of his back and over this ass.

He let out a long, low moan.

Then, with two hands, she started kneading his butt cheeks.

He moaned again.

She worked the sides of his hips, moving her fingers up and down and over his hip bones. His body squirmed and his breathing deepened. She pressed into his upper thighs, just below his ass. He kept moaning with pleasure.

She decided to slow things down a bit. She took her elbow and, starting just below the neck, slid it slowly down his back along his spine, stopping every few inches or so to rest on an area of tightness.

She decided to take the opportunity to broach the subject that was on her mind.

"I remember when I used to do this at the beach," she said. "I'd put sun oil on your back and sit on your butt and massage you."

"Yeah," he broke in, "except we were naked at the time."

"That's true," she said. "But it was a nude beach after all. Anyway, I remember thinking that I never wanted it to change. What you and I had. The closeness, the intimacy."

"We were as intimate as two people could be," he said. "Every night we were intimate."

"But I'm not just talking about sex," she went on. "I'm talking about sharing something else. Something deeper."

"I remember you were takin' it really deep," he said.

"Pierre, stop. I'm being serious."

"Sorry, Sis, go on. I'm listening. Can you do my ass some more?"

She dripped oil onto the small of his back.

"Now, as I look back, I feel like I was living a fantasy," she continued. "A fantasy where I didn't need to grow up. Didn't need to leave home."

She was rubbing the oil into his butt cheeks, losing herself in thought, massaging every corner of his ass. Softly. Sensuously.

"I realize now that I was afraid. Afraid to engage with the world. With other people. I was infantilizing myself as a form of protection."

"Do that thing where you rub my back with your arms," he said.

She leaned over him and, using both her forearms, rubbed all the way up his back and all the way down over his butt cheeks. Up and down. Again and again.

Every time her forearms passed over his oiled ass, he groaned. Each time, she kneaded his butt, he would groan again. Loudly. He was loving this.

"And I realize now that I had to learn how to be truly intimate with someone. I was having to unlearn all those bad habits."

Snapping out of her reverie, she noticed her brother was arching his back and thrusting his pelvis in time with her strokes. When her arms reached his lower back, he'd cock his hips, his butt raised. When she swooped over the fleshy mounds of his ass, he'd thrust his pelvis into the bed.

She could only imagine what was happening on the other side of his body. She sat up. Pierre peered back at her.

"You want to practice being intimate the way we used to?" he asked.

"Pierre, I'm talking about something serious."

"So am I!" he said loudly. "This is a serious situation. Look!"

He rolled over onto his back. Laying atop his stomach was his fully erect penis. It stretched well past his belly button.

"Take off my clothes? Entirely?" Collette said, taken aback.

"Well, yes," he explained. "You'll be in silhouette, against the light of the tower. Clothes would look odd. Plus, your face wouldn't be visible."

There was a pause while she pondered this.

"Alright," she said finally. "I'll do it. Tell me what you want me to do."

She stood opposite him next to the chaise lounge. The light from his hotel room cast her in a soft light that made her look angelic.

"You can start by getting undressed," he said simply.

"Well, can you unzip me?" she asked with a playful tone.

She walked up to him and turned on her heel. He slowly unzipped her dress, revealing a lacy black bra and a thong. She resumed her spot and turned back around. She knew he was watching her, yet she didn't feel inhibited. She wanted him to see her.

She let the dress drop to the tiled floor and stepped out of it. She moved to take off her stiletto heels.

"Leave those on," he commanded.

She stood up in her black push-up bra and thong, leaning back slightly, her shapely hips trust forward. Her body was exquisite. Luscious. She was perfectly toned, her breasts looking full and ample on her petite body. But her ass-her ass was a thing of beauty.

She unclasped her bra and let it drop onto the chaise lounge. In the light from the suite, Derek admired her perfectly shaped breasts.

He then watched her slowly slide her thong down her elegant legs. He saw her supple ass and neatly groomed pussy.

Having gotten his eyeful, he reached for the light switch and turned off the light.

"Stand over there," he commanded, pointing to the corner of the railing.

He watched her silhouette move slowly, sexily, to the balcony. With the Eiffel Tower aglow behind her, he could see her perfect ass moving just so.

She turned to face him. He moved closer to her.

"Now, behind you is the world's most famous phallic symbol. You're a powerful woman. I want you to show me your power."

She arched her back, with her hands on her hips, and thrust out her breasts. Click.

"That's perfect," he exclaimed. "Just like that."

She turned and showed a side view, her hands in her hair and her elbows to the sky.

"You look amazing," he growled. "Now spread your legs wide."

She stood with her legs apart, her arms in the air. She threw her head back.

"That's great. Now, turn sideways so I can see your breasts. That's it. Now, arch your back so they stand up."

She gave him a view of her luscious breasts from the side. They looked phenomenal.

"Your nipples look great - they're sticking out from the chill. It reads great on camera. Give them a tweak them with your fingers. See if you can make them bigger."

She took a nipple in each hand and twisted them. She let out a little squeal.

"Don't hurt yourself" Derek laughed.

"No," she called out. "It felt good!"

"Well, good! Go for it. Just do whatever feels good."

She put her fingers back on her nipples and started to squeeze them. Then she started to roll them under her palms. She was swaying her hips sensuously.

"Let's see them now."

She took her hands down and turned sideways. Derek could hear her starting to pant.

"That's better. Let me take a look."

He looked through the viewfinder.

"Almost there. I need them a little bigger for the effect I want."