Bastille Day Ch. 12

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When Sans turned off the road, I hoped that he and Marge wouldn’t be surprised to see the bulge in my pants. By now, Anna’s fingers were pretty close to it, and mine, closer to her pussy. Sans parked. As we got out of the car, I helped my cock move up. I didn’t have to worry about what they might think. While Sans got the blanket from the trunk, Marge started to unbutton her blouse. Before he returned, both blouses were unbuttoned. We all smirked, nodding. Before we were under our tree, there was just a button or hook keeping pants and skirts from dropping.

While he spread the blanket, my shirt and the blouses slipped off. He stood back up, grinning, as he and I watched them unhook their bras, no tantalizing striptease. They just returned our grins as they revealed their breasts and aroused nipples. As we shuffled out of our shoes and sandals, skirts and pants dropped, followed by underpants. My cock dropped down with mine, but his was just as full, our “plums” almost fully exposed. We both jostled our balls to loosen our sacks from our thighs.

For a moment, we looked at each with slight smirks, chuckling as our eyes did what they shouldn’t in the resort, dropping down to look at breasts and shaven pussies; his and mine, also at each other’s cock.

“I’m still thirsty,” he remarked. I had been carrying the two bottles and asked:

“Wine or water?”


I stooped to pick up the bottle, and we all sat down on the blanket, very close, since we had forgotten to bring towels. I opened it and passed it to him. He drank and offered it around. We all drank in turn, and I screwed the lid back on the bottle. Another moment of silence. I looked at him and said:

“We’re not going to do it again.”

“Not now,” he agreed with a smirk and wink.

“Hmm! We wouldn’t have let you, … now,” Anna responded with a grin, putting her hand on my knee. Marge snorted and put hers on his knee and agreed:

“Not now, but if you want to again, that was almost as much fun to watch.”

“Just ‘almost’!” Anna replied with emphasis, her hand moving to my thigh.

When she glanced at my cock, I felt it move, just a reflex, nicer than if I had consciously made it move. Marge may have also noticed; she hummed and murmured:

“Not even ‘just almost.’ Lie down.”

We had gotten passed being subtle about what we all knew we were going to do. Sans and I glanced at each other with smiles, rocking our heads about how we should lie down. We stretched out head to foot diagonally on the small blanket. They had to move to make space for us, Anna then straddling one of my legs. Marge was moving between his, about level with my head. They looked at each other, chuckling, and then at us, and then at the cock in front of them. Mine moved again, now almost about to rise.

As they leaned down, Anna’s hand slid under my loose sack, playing with my balls for a moment. My cock lifted off them. She hummed, glancing up at me with a grin, and then her face disappeared, and her fingers raised it to her mouth. A kiss and lick over its little hole, and then her warm, moist lips were around my cock, the tip of her tongue finding where it was most sensitive, most deliciously sensitive!

My thigh drew up between hers; she rocked her hips down, her pussy pressing on my knee. She hummed, which felt good on my cock. “Mmmm!” She was sucking my cock deeper. Marge wiggled her hips, calling attention to her ass between his legs, level with my head. She couldn’t expect him to do anything; I reached over and found her pussy with my fingers, moist pussy. She hummed emphatically with another wiggle of her hips. Her pussy felt good, more than just moist when my finger slipped in it with a wet noise, making her moan, as it held my fingers tighter. She liked that, moaning, but on as a prelude to something better. She moaned again and raised her head and demanded softly: “Fuck!”

She didn’t wait for a response, raising her hips and beginning to move up over Sans. Anna was only a few moments behind her. Sans and I had to move apart to let them straddle our hips, and then their hands were guiding our cocks to their pussies. For a second or two, I could see his in her hand, see the purplish pink head of his cock being rubbed between her pussy lips, until it disappeared. If Sans was watching, he also saw my cock slip into Anna’s pussy.

Four deep moans! We all had agreed why we liked oral sex so much, but a cock belongs in a cunt!

That word just slipped out in my thoughts – the alliteration.

“Finally, good!” Anna murmured, and then her tongue was trying to get in my mouth. It didn’t have to try hard, nor mine, both of them wanting to caress and be sucked. My hands found her breasts. As I aroused her stiff nipples, we continued to kiss, until she retrieved her tongue and demanded softly: “Suck them!”

She moved up a little and presented one to my mouth. I did, delighting, liking that I could arouse her while our hips held still, that we could enjoy the anticipation. Well, her hips weren’t entirely gaziantep bayan escort still, but that just increased the anticipation of how it would feel for my cock when we really started to fuck. She moaned and offered me her other nipple. How much anticipation could we stand, could my cock stand, feeling her pussy contract, making it twitch?

I moaned, and she moaned, and then moved back, my cock sliding deeper in her pussy, all the way, feeling it tighten closer down on my cock. “Um-hmmm!” she moaned, and her pussy clutched again.

Enough anticipation! Fuck! I drew my knees up and began to rock my hips. Sans’ knees also drew up. I had forgotten about them and glanced over. Oh, his hand sliding down between her hips. Anna would want that too. She did, responding with a nod and emphatic moan.

Fucking is a reflex, a very natural reflex, our hips rocking, and the women’s rocking. And for our fingers on or in their assholes, it was only a reflex to move them.

We all came. I hoped the others’ orgasm were as good as mine, it sounded like it and seemed that they were. We all took several deep breaths with sighing moans. Anna’s and my stomachs were rising and falling against each other, a very nice way to share our recovering from the exertion of our orgasms.

Marge sat up, and then Anna did. I fondled her breasts for a few moments, both of us grinning, and then sat up, like Sans was, and we kissed them. I remarked:

“Now I am thirsty, not just water, but also water.”

The others nodded vigorously with smiles, and the women moved off us. I found the bottles, handing him the wine bottle and drinking from the water bottle. While I passed it to Anna, he opened the bottle with the wine, just a screw top. He and Marge drank from the water bottle, and then he raised the bottle of wine to Anna with a smirk and remarked:

“I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t have another picnic.”

“Hmmmm! You know I don’t; would have been just a waste of time.”

We all snickered, nodding. He replied:

“Then, here’s to you,” and drank, handing her the bottle.

She grinned and drank and handed it to Marge, who remarked:

“As if we all didn’t,” and drank, handing the bottle to me.

“Um-hmm!” I agreed, holding the bottle up towards Anna with a grin, and then drank. Sans drank again, and then we all smiled wryly.

I wondered if the others were also a little surprised that we could all want so much sex, wondering if I had fucked my wife as often as I had Marge and Anna, certainly not two or three times a day, not even during our honeymoon. Okay, two or three times a day here, including oral sex, but we certainly hadn’t done that very often, and never so good.

Sans snorted and took another sip of wine, passing the bottle to Anna again, and remarked:

“Never thought anything would be like this, that a man my age could … enjoy himself so much.”

“About what I was thinking,” I agreed, accepting the bottle from Anna, gesturing with it in a silent toast to her and Marge and drinking. I handed it to her. She nodded with smile, looking at him, and said:

“I was about to say that you have been nicest thing that has happened for us, but, of course, that is not quite right.” She smiled at me and Anna, continuing:

“Well, maybe, or we wouldn’t be here.”

Anna and I nodded, and she drank and handed the bottle on to Sans. He smiled and replied:

“But you, all of you are certainly being the nicest thing that has happened for me.”

He raised the bottle, looking at each of us, and drank. When he offered it to Anna, she shook her head with a smile, then smirked and replied:

“It’s been our pleasure, you can be sure.”

We all chuckled, nodding. He offered the bottle to me and Marge, we also refusing it, and said:

“Not just yours, and our vacation isn’t over yet.”

We all nodded more emphatically and then did drink another round of wine, sort of to confirm our consensus and in agreement that we were looking forward to a few more days together.

Although there was still plenty of time for the rest of the drive back to the resort, we agreed to return. When we stood up, there were obvious spots on the blanket where the women had been sitting. They looked apologetic, Sans snorted and said:

“Not your fault, probably more from us. Something to remember you – us – by.”

We all nodded again. I remarked:

“Before Anna says anything, maybe we should all go.”

With snickers, we did, standing a line watching each other’s stream arch out. When I snorted and held my cock up and pressed to make mine arch further. Sans chuckled and did the same, muttering:

“Like schoolboys.”

“In France, too?” I asked.

“Of course!”

Marge and Anna snickered, more like giggles – appropriate, if we were acting like schoolboys. Anna rocked her hips up, but her stream was dying down. Marge snorted and remarked:

“Give up; we can’t; just have to let the schoolboys show off.”

We all laughed. Someone suggested we use the rest of the water to clean up a bit, and we all did, using our underpants to dry ourselves, and got dressed again, without underwear. Back in his car, during the drive, I wondered if that had been a good idea, when Anna’s hand was again on my thigh, especially when she pulled her skirt up from under my hand. I was rather pleased, however, that my cock responded again – a man my age! At least, with much younger women.

I think she wanted me to have a bulge in my pants when we got out of the car in the parking lot, an obvious bulge, unrestrained by shorts. She did, smirking at my discomfort. As we agreed that we wanted to shower, it was only a bulge in my left pant leg. Didn’t some men have cocks that were always that big? How much bigger when they were aroused? Marge suggested that we split up, nodding for Anna to go with Sans. They both looked pleased. He suggested that we meet in his room to finish the wine before dinner, and we went our ways.

Marge snorted and asked:

“How long should we leave them alone together?”

“Hmm? Just long enough for a shower, if you ask me, or they could be wondering what we were doing. You weren’t thinking about that, were you?”

“Oh no! Of course not. Men your age have are like some medicines: only to be taken after meals, well, before or after.”

She laughed with me. We took our shower together and went to Sans’ room.

Apparently, their shower had taken longer; Sans was still drying himself when he opened the door. When we glanced down at his engorged cock – below half-mast – he snorted and remarked:

“I tried to tell her not to, that you would be coming.”

Anna was also still drying herself – always attractive to watch – smirking. Marge chuckled and replied:

You were right. Anna, like I told him, men their age are like some medicines: only to be taken before or after meals.”

“This is before dinner,” Anna answered with a grin.”

“Only after dinner, since it was so long after lunch.”

We all chuckled. Anna feigned a scowl and agreed:

“Oh, all right. Hm-hmm! Some medicines, the effect of some medicines wears off before it’s time to take them again.”

“Not for men,” I replied.

Sans nodded with a grin, and we all snickered. He tossed his towel at her and said:

“But maybe we can all have a little of this medicine,” and turned to find the half empty wine bottle.

Anna turned to hang up their towels in the bathroom. When he sat down on his bed, we two joined him. Anna returned and joined us, and the bottle was passed. We all just sipped, wanting to leave enough for the next person. Marge remarked to Sans:

“Your wine is a lot better, now that we’re here, recalling how good it is.”

“I hope so, but this is pretty good, considering.”

As the bottle was passed again, we thanked him for taking us to Avignon again. I was wondering if Anna would say something about our “picnic.” She didn’t, but probably all our better smiles suggested that we all were recalling it.

Then it was time for dinner. The people we had been talking with at breakfast gestured for us to join them and wanted to hear about our outing. Since they were Ron and Willy and their girls, who knew all about us, we admitting that we had had a picnic. They all smirked, as expected. Anna snorted and added:

“But we didn’t have anything to eat, just wine.”

Snickers! One of the men – it doesn’t matter which, since she had slept with them both – whispered:

“You didn’t eat anything?”

“Just a little, a … ‘Vorspeise’,” she whispered back, glancing at Marge to translate.

“Hm-hmm! An ‘appetizer’.”

Soft, warm chuckles and restrained smirks; people at the next tables didn’t need to understand. I hoped they didn’t understand English. The other one – Willy or Ron – whispered:

“Pity, one can’t do that here in the fresh air, not like last year.”

His girlfriend snorted at remarked:

“We don’t need to, and this is a nice place; people don’t do that here in public.”

“Just with close friends,” the other girl remarked.

More smirks. Marge glanced at Sans and replied:

“Maybe if you get up at dawn.”

More smirks. One of the girls remarked, with a glance at both men:

“If you didn’t,” she lowered her voice: “want to ‘party’ all night.”

Even more smirks. Sans changed the subject, saying that it was a pity that they couldn’t see something of the countryside, suggesting that the resort might know a taxi that that wasn’t too expensive for the four of them. They liked the idea, and we finished our meal without any more references to having sex.

As we left the restaurant, Sans said that he still had more bottles of his wine, suggesting that we go to his place. Marge said that it was too good to drink from the bottle, and I offered to fetch our glasses. As I turned to go, I looked back at Anna with a grin and said:

“But keep your pants on until you’ve had your medicine.”

I turned away, hearing them snicker, and hurried to get our glasses. When I joined them again, they all still had their pants on, figuratively speaking: soft nipples and his cock as relaxed as mine was.

He was waiting with the opened bottle to fill our glasses. He tasted the wine, and then we all drank, agreeing that it was much better than the other wine. I’ll admit that I was wondering if Anna would say anything about medicine, but we talked about what we had seen in Avignon. She did get to show off her better knowledge, but that was all right – even if she did glance at his cock after he nodded his agreement with a smile.

We were finishing our second glasses of wine, and that subject waned, talking about the last museum. Then Anna chuckled and said:

“Then I really did have to go the bathroom. Marge thought it had been a good idea, but wasn’t sure.

“We weren’t either,” I replied: “but it still would have been a good idea.”

I wondered if Anna was suggesting we move on to talk about what happened after that, as Sans agreed:

“Yes,” and asked: “More wine?”

We all shook our heads, and he suggested catching up on the new with his laptop. He turned his chair to the desk and turned it on, and we joined him. When he glanced back and gestured that Anna could sit on his lap, she glanced at Marge and me. We nodded with smiles, and she did, facing the laptop. We two stood behind the chair and let them take turns finding newspaper websites, telling us what French and German papers were reporting, and then finding US and UK papers for us. The world was still upset by the NSA’s activities; Germany’s defense minister was facing a committee about two problems with drones; and other news that made us yawn.

I was a little surprised that Sans’ hands stayed on the edge of the table, when Anna was clicking the keys; it seemed so natural that he would want to hold her nice breasts. When one of us stifled another yawn, someone else yawned. Marge chuckled and murmured:

“My turn to say I have to go.”

We all chuckled, nodding, and went: Marge and Anna on the toilet, Sans and I together at the washbasin. Since no one suggested washing, it seemed that we were tacitly agreed that we had done enough already. I thought so.

We returned to the room, now darker, but not really late enough to go to bed. Go back to ours? Leave Sans alone? Leave Anna with him, since he and I had agreed that she could be with me at the “picnic”? He glanced at us and said:

“You can stay here, if you want. I would like that.”

Of course, we agreed, then all wanting a good drink of water, and got in bed with Marge and Anna between us, lying on our backs, looking up at ceiling in the dim light. Marge thanked him again for showing us Avignon, Anna and I agreeing. He replied that it had been a pleasure for him, and that he had enjoyed that Anna (who was lying next to him) had added information. I could be generous now, and agreed that I had been impressed with her knowledge of history and architecture.

Had Anna reach down and held his cock, like Marge had mine, replying:

“I was too. It was a very nice outing.”

I nodded. Maybe only then did Anna hold his; he snorted and replied:

“Any time, … well, almost any time, depending on what you want to do with them.”

Not holding his cock, fondling his balls. We all chuckled, and Anna replied:

“Just like to know they’re there, … for now.”

Marge nodded and fondled my soft cock. I knew she understood that it wasn’t going to respond, but it still felt nice, like it did when I fondled it, usually wondering if I wanted to do more, often in the morning, regretting that I had to get up, even if the alarm hadn’t yet gone off. Her fingers gathered up my balls, also like mine then would have. I snorted and asked:

“Having fun? Feels like what I sometimes do.”

“Playing with your loose balls?”

The others chuckled. Sans replied for me:

“Of course, when no one else does.”

“Like me,” Anna remarked, chuckling.

“Don’t you both, too? Well, whatever you can.”

“Of course, don’t we?” Marge replied, adding:

“Just feels nice, even if I know I’m not going to do more.”

“Hm-hmm! But I usually do,” Anna responded, then adding:

“Unless we can’t, you know, … or I have to get up.”

“We know why,” Sans remarked with a chuckle.

“Don’t you, too?”

“Of course, but we just have.”

“Um-hmm! Like that,” she agreed.

We chuckled again. I imagined what it was feeling like for Marge’s fingers, recalled how it felt for my own when they were fondling my balls. After another few seconds of silence, Sans snorted and remarked, obviously in response to what Anna was doing:

“Don’t expect anything to happen; it’s been a long day.

That seemed to suggest that we just go to sleep. Marge removed her hand and turned to me, and we kissed, just a goodnight kiss. Anna and Sans did the same, and we all got comfortable with our thighs overlapping. As I was about to say goodnight, Anna remarked:

“I wonder what it’s like to have twins, to have them both sucked.”

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