I’m crashing in Beaune for a quick stopover, revisiting old friends. The party’s for B.’s 18th, her parents hosting in their vineyard home. Neutral turf, no one knows my routine. I mingle, grab glasses of the family’s red wine. Heading to refill, B. drags over her friend. ‘François, remember Chichi?’ I fake it, kiss her cheek. She’s cute, smiling, slight Flemish accent. Red sheath dress hugs her curves—chaste neckline but full tits peeking. 5’5″, slim, long legs from the high slit. Round face, light brown hair, blue eyes locking mine.
B. ditches us; Chichi knows no one. She’s B.’s Belgian pen pal, here learning French. Saw her summers ago by the pool—bold even then. We join my 25-30 crew at the table, mocking the teens dancing wild. She sticks to me like glue. Later, on the floor, I clown around. She pulls me close, grinding hard. My buddy whispers at the bar, ‘That slut wants cock.’ She’s 18, legal. Whisky burns as she whines, ‘Outside, too hot.’ We slip into November vines, crisp air. She shivers; I lend my jacket. Quiet spot, she sits on my lap, arm round my neck. Kisses corner of lips, then full mouth, tongues deep. Hands on my ass, brushing my bulge. Heart races—don’t get caught. Back inside, we dance, chat, I rein her in.
The Layover
‘Where you crashing?’ ‘Orobol hotel.’ ‘Drive me? Tired.’ We say goodbyes, weave out. Her hotel first, then mine. On the autoroute to Beaune, hand on my thigh, stroking cock through pants. Hard to drive straight. At her place, pack bags quick. On her bed, long kiss. I grope tits; she grinds pussy on my dick. Suitcases zipped, we bolt—I’m throbbing, she knows.
Swipe magnetic key at Orobol. Suite’s decent: sitting area, jacuzzi bath for two. Late night, corridor echoes empty. View over dark vines. She strips to panties, into bath. I hide boner, join naked. Jets roar, foam rises. She sprawls on me, kissing, legs rubbing mine. Hands on ass, belly—teasing, no cock touch. I knead back, cheeks. She grinds slow, pussy on shaft. Smirks, torturing. Flips, relaxes in bubbles.
The Transit
She dries hair, sprawls nude on bed. I kiss down: neck, tits, belly. Trimmed pussy, almond scent. Lick lips, clit, finger entrance. 69 now: I rim ass gentle. She strokes, sucks head, deepthroats. Finger in ass deeper—she moans, balls cupped. On her back, I rub cock on clit. She pulls me in; I tease ass again. Slide cock slow into wet pussy, finger syncing. She bites lip, sighs sharp. Cyprine slicks everything. Pull out to edge.
Lick her to orgasm: tongue fucks, clit thrummed. She bucks, fists my hair, cries out. Tastes herself kissing me. On my back, she jerks slow, kneels, sucks deep. Tongue swirls, balls fondled. I cum hard in mouth; she swallows, curls up clean.
Dawn taxi buzz outside. Bags loaded, airport run. Dijon flight at 10. Chaste lip peck goodbye. Back on road, her scent lingers—one-night transit bliss.