A French Affair Pt. 02 by vibrationsINC,vibrationsINC A FRENCH AFFAIR PART 02
Revisions L’Affaire française 2024
CHAPTER FIVE: RICHIE
At long last family day came. As planned, relatives of my side and Connor’s side descended to our house and had a grand old party at the field close to our place. Jean-Luc was a hit, and many times he was pulled away from conversations and general gossip-mongering to take pictures and selfies with far-flung relatives who ohh’d and ahh’d at every little thing he did. The food was absolutely marvelous – as it should be, because if not I would be the laughing stock of both sides of the family for the rest of my life – Aunt Louise’ vegan meal came through, and Connor – with Colin in tow, in cute baby overalls picked out by Jean-Luc – was manning the activities booth for the children and young adults, letting them work off the lunch by participating in treasure hunts, drawing and – in honor of Jean-Luc, pétanque – among other things.
There was one moment which etched itself strongly in my mind. While I was at the food counter, watching hawk-like at my good china being used by Connor’s sisters, I happened to glance at a distance Jean-Luc who was sipping a glass of red and watching Connor, holding Colin, manage a battalion of school-aged first and second cousins for the treasure hunt. Jean-Luc was watching so intently – though to be honest, Connor did look delectable in his green-blue plaid shirt that I chose for the occasion to bring out his grey eyes – that he did not even register the first time I said “Penny for your thought.”
After a few nudge Jean-Luc finally turned and smiled, which made me remember all over again this was a real-life model talking to me. “Penny for your thought.”
“Well? I’m thankful for today, that it got on so wonderfully, and I’m thankful for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, for taking care of Colin, for coming out here, for pulling up roots and moving into another country for me. You’re a treasure, Jean-Luc.”
“Thank you.” He took a dainty sip of the wine. “You’re so…. how to say it cheri, vraiment heureux. You have the best little angel bébé, and the best, most wonderful husband. I’ll be jealous if you weren’t the best cousin one could have too.”
“Why, thank you Jean-Luc. Or rather, merci beaucoup.”
He raised his glass in a mock toast. “De rien.”
Connor came up to where we were standing under a tree. “I think Colin needs his nappy nap time.”
“Oh p’tit chien, come to dada,” Jean-Luc took over baby Colin, who was already nodding his head, more than halfway to sleeping.
“I’ll help,” Connor offered, and took Jean-Luc’s glass. Together they made their way across the field to the house. I watched the two guys trot off together – like a proper couple, parents bringing their child for a walk. I smiled at the picture of domesticity and diverted my attention back to the ongoing treasure hunt.
CHAPTER SIX: CONNOR
“There,” Jean-Luc pulled the blanket on Colin, who was content to catch on his nap while the rest of the family was having a good time.
“He really likes you,” I muttered, feeling awkward now just to be with him, no one else in the room – well, baby Colin didn’t count, yet. He smiled, the French devil, and put a finger on my chest, tippy tippity tap on the fabric stretched over my pecs.
“How about his father? Does his father like me?” God, his voice sounded so seductive with that throaty Piaf lilt, like the sound of something purring, or something plunging into a small hole. I sniggered at his question.
“Of course he likes you. In fact,” – I put a firm hand on his right shoulder, smiling all the while – “He likes you very very much.” I pulled his face up and close, and laid down a kiss on his pouting lips, which trembled in the kiss like autumn leaves. “It should be wrong that he likes you this much.” Another kiss. “Too much.”
I felt his hand wander from my chest down my tummy, past my waist to rest on my bulge, which had been raring to go since I left the field to be honest. “Ah, quel grand champignon,” he murmured. “You do like me.” He opened my zipper and pulled out my hefty erection. “Yes, yes, you do.” His fingers felt marvelous scratching the veins of my cock. He knelt and gave a kiss on the glans, so red, so angry. “So fucking big,” he whispered, as he opened his mouth, my cock head slid on his tongue, and finally we were off to the races.
CHAPTER SEVEN: RICHIE
Family day was finally officially over, with the big barbeque a grand success for everyone. The food was spectacular, the company appreciative, there was even a small fireworks display. With this I had finally cemented my claim as best host against Connor’s sisters and sisters-in-law, which they begrudgingly acceded over the final meal. It was a big deal, and though done in good humor was enough to bring a tear to my eyes, that and when Connor gave me a congratulatory kiss in front of everyone. Score!
One of Connor’s sisters volunteered to oversee the cleaning by the caterers, leaving us free to celebrate. We decided to make full use of the hot tub to finally have a moment to ourselves, perhaps knock off a champagne bottle or two, have a nice warm bubbly soak with the bubbly drink. Baby Colin was sleeping off the day’s excesses, and had already been fed. Ever the grateful host I decided to invite Jean-Luc to the hot tub with Connor and me.
What I was not expecting though was for Jean-Luc to come out in the most ravishing white little jockstrap that managed to look simultaneously virginal and come-hither-boys. The jock looked painted onto his body, which was slender and toned in an almost androgynous way. Added to the fact that he was bringing out the champagne in an ice bucket with pretty little flutes for us and he made a very fetching picture. No wonder the man made a living being in the pictures and magazines.
CHAPTER EIGHT: CONNOR
Fuck! That jock was my present for Richie! Just a little something to celebrate the success of family day, which I knew was a big deal between him and my sisters. From where did Jean-Luc find that… oh yeah, I showed him the box after he sucked me off this afternoon. Fuck.
That said, he looked more beautiful than Richie ever would in that jock.
CHAPTER NINE: RICHIE
This champagne really rocked, so cool, so bubbly, I found myself burping every five seconds. The warm water was going into my head, making everything look like bubbles, haha. I watched as Connor and Jean-Luc seemed to sit closer and closer as the night drew on and the heat was almost unbearable. The two seemed to be having the time of their lives, sipping champagne that I chose and I bought and brought back home, talking about everything and nothing in particular, giggling at times like little children. At one point I imagined Connor had his arm around Jean-Luc, bringing him close to his body. It was just a second, and the next moment my eyes refocused they were back apart.
My takeout from this was this was one hell of a good champagne.
CHAPTER TEN: CONNOR
Fuck, we had to be careful. Richie almost caught us practically hugging while he was nodding half-asleep, much like baby Colin. But I couldn’t stop… fuck yeah, that’s the spot.
Jean-Luc looked at me with half-lidded eyes, his asshole clench-unclenching around my intruding finger, which was hopefully covered by the bubbles. I grinned mischievously at my French slut and dialed up the intensity of my digital assault on his poor cunt, my husband looking all the while. We kept up the pretense of conversation, though it was hard to follow Jean-Luc’s meandering sometimes, but amazingly he kept his cool throughout while having a finger up his ass. Now it was something about taxes in Austria where he lived.
“So, you are considered an Austrian citizen, that’s weird.”
“That’s normal, because we’re all in the E.U., I have to register as a foreign citizen, but I do pay Austrian taxes.”
“Jean-Luc.”
“Yes, Richie?”
“What is Austria in French?”
“L’Autriche.” There again that rattling R. I could feel Jean-Luc’s asshole throb around my finger as he pronounced it.
“Yeah, I forgot my French. L’Autriche. I need some coffee.” Richie started to climb out of the hot tub. Oops. Time to play the good husband.
“I’ll help you.” And thus with great regret my finger left Jean-Luc’s asshole. He just only managed to mask his moans with a cough. I had to smile at that. After Richie had a shot of coffee and some water, he was knocked out. I meant my little husband was snoring five minutes after he hit the pillow. Good champagne. I took a peek in to look at Colin, the little angel was sleeping peacefully.
Now for the inevitable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: CONNOR
Jean-Luc was watching me approach like a hungry lion from the hot tub. There was a glint in his eyes that had first intrigued me upon seeing him come out of that arrivals gate a few weeks ago. I shuddered. At the edge where he was sitting there was the flimsiest excuse of a fabric that was his jockstrap, the jockstrap that was supposed to be for my husband but ended up framing Jean-Luc’s beautiful ass, the ass that I would soon beat into submission again. Under the frothy bubbles he was fingering his cunt intently, making it ready for my big cock.
“Viens, bien-aimé. Darling, come.”
I stood there under the light of the stars, watching into the fire of his eyes, feeling the cold of the summer’s nadir around me as I undid the strings of my trunks and let them fall onto my feet. His eyes started from my face, down my neck, my pecs (how I thanked God for gym memberships), my flat tummy, the one Richie loved to call my dad-tummy, down to the root of my erection, standing tall and unabashed, leaking sweet precum, ready and raring to fuck an unsuspecting hole. I watched him as his tongue flashed out and licked an imaginary drip on the corner of his mouth.
I entered the hot tub. I always considered myself an attentive lover, a patient one even, but then in the heat of the moment I decided foreplay be damned, I need to fuck a hole now. I sat down, pulled Jean-Luc onto me, adjusted his position and pulled him down onto my impatient cock. No words said, no words needed. Jean-Luc let out a squeal and a grunt at being pierced by my cock, but other than that remained quiet, as if aware of the momentous occasion.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. I looked at Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc looked at me. The slut was smiling, a victorious whore who had snatched his cousin’s husband. I didn’t know why but that sneer slightly pissed me off. I added more force in my hips, and the water bubbles broke the surface. The slide of hard cock against warm anus in the welcoming water amongst the cold nocturnal air was almost overwhelming, almost… romantic.
“So is this what you’re looking for, huh, when you come to this country? A big American meat up your French ass?”
“Oui, oui, chez mon cul, mon gros fessard.”
“Yeah, my fucking big grade A sausage. They don’t have them back there in the motherland right?” A slap on Jean-Luc’s ass, earning myself a groan and a clench of his anal ring. His whine sounded delicious in the heady champagne-tinged night. I felt the great tumble coming close. The electric pulses began as Jean-Luc in perfect timing humped back down on my hips.
“No, no, fuck me with your cock, tu putain!”
“YEAH FUCKIN’ CUMMING, CUMMING UP YOUR ASS!! UP YOUR DELICIOUS CUNT!!”
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