Chapter 1
The hot sun beat down on the white sand beach. Naked bodies baked beneath the French Riviera skies and Bob Garland turned over onto his stomach. He was getting a hard-on and that could be embarrassing to him because it was not a woman who was causing the sensation in him. It was the ass of a young Frenchman who was lying on his stomach just inches away from Bob.
The round, firm buns of the young man's butt were what was turning Bob on. He didn't understand it. But it was happening. He had never in his life even thought of fucking another man.
What was happening to him?
Bob squirmed and turned away from the young blonde Frenchman just as a perfectly beautiful young woman came running across the sand, her long blonde hair wet with the sea.
"Philippe, you lazy son of a bitch," she cried. "Come into the water. It's glorious."
Bob watched her flop down on the sand next to the young man whose butt had aroused him so much. "They're together," he thought.
The young woman was exquisite.
Bob felt the thickness of his hard-on increase as he looked at the young woman's body. She was as perfect as her mate.
The two of them looked like young blonde gods.
Bob Garland was in Cannes for the film festival-a journalist covering the event for the arts magazine that was fronting the money for this trip. He could never have afforded such a luxurious sojourn on his own. Not on his salary.
But here he was, basking in the hot French sun, surrounded by nude and mostly nude sun bathers. Most never bothered-like the young man she had called "Philippe"-to enter the azure blue sea that lay out like a cheap whore for all to enjoy.
"Pardon, monsieur," Bob heard the mellifluous voice of the young woman say. He turned.
"Do you have a cigarette?"
Bob grinned at her. She returned the pleasantry.
"Certainly, miss," Bob said, fumbling in the beach bag that lay beside him. He proffered the pack to her, one cigarette extended.
"Thank you," she said demurely lowering her eyes. "May I also take one for my brother?"
Her brother!
So they were not a couple, Bob thought to himself.
"Certainly, miss."
"Thank you. You are a fine gentleman."
Not so fine, Bob thought to himself. If you knew that I had been getting turned on by the thought of fucking your hot little brother.
The young woman was wearing a yellow spandex bikini. She might as well have been as nude as her brother for all the skimpy garment covered. Her well-rounded, pendulous breasts were barely contained by the strained and stretched fabric that clung to her like wet glue. It was almost as though the garment had been painted onto her voluptuous figure.
The tiny bottom part of the bikini barely covered the honey-colored bush that framed the triangle of her love nest. Bob felt his cock throb as he reached out with his Zippo and lit the cigarette that dangled from the young blonde French woman's succulent lips.
"Merci," she murmured and slipped the cigarette into the lazy lips of her beautiful young brother.
Of course, they are brother and sister, Bob thought. Just look at those eyes. The two of them had perfectly shaped almond eyes, colored a pale green. It was a startling effect, especially against the bronzed flesh of their young bodies. And the blonde hair that fell nearly to both their shoulders framed the angelic faces of this pair of French sea nymphs-one male one female.
Exquisite! Bob thought. Perfectly exquisite, like two Dresden dolls.
The girl may have been twenty. The boy younger-maybe eighteen. Bob himself was twenty-five and felt like a jaded old whoremaster in the company of these two. But there was something sensual to the look of the girl and her brother. Something incredibly innocent and yet not so.
A couple of little devils, Bob thought. Probably fuck like minks.
"You are here for the festival," the young woman stated rather than asked.
"Yes," Bob admitted. He must really look like a tourist, he thought.
"You have the look of a critic," she offered.
"Not guilty!" Bob defended himself. "I am a journalist, yes. A critic, never."
The young woman laughed, a laugh that carried the echo of sea sirens in it.
God, she would be a hot fuck, Bob thought. A really hot fuck.
"Would you care to join us for a drink later?" the young woman asked.
"I certainly would," Bob said, realizing at once that he sounded over-eager.
"Then, until later," the young woman said. "We are at the Maison dAviles. Five o'clock."
With that she leaped to her feet and ran down the beach toward the sea.
The lazy young Frenchman smiled at Bob and snuffing out the cigarette in the sand, stretched his lean young body and rolled over onto his back, crossing his arm over his face.
The perfection of the young man's body was complete on both sides. The washboard stomach was grazed by honey-colored fur that grew thicker as it enveloped the long, thick circumference of his uncircumcised piece of manmeat.
Bob was completely nonplussed now. He felt his thick cock throb at the sight of the perfect young male body stretched out nonchalantly nude inches from his own.
Bob grabbed the towel on which he was lying and wrapped it discreetly about his body, attempting in vain to hide the hardness that thrust outward from his groin.
"A la cinq heure," the young Frenchman's voice came as Bob walked back towards the hotel.
"Yes," Bob muttered, draping his hands in front of him as he waded through the sun worshippers. He hoped to hell the young Frenchman had not noticed his condition.
Hot scalding water enveloped Bob's body as he stepped under the shower in the hotel bathroom. His cock still throbbed. He could not get the vision of the young couple out of his mind. He had never been so turned on his life.
He gripped the thickness of his meat as he felt the water cascading down over his muscled torso. He felt the firmness of his hand on his meat and gave into it.
Hell, I can't meet those two with a raging hard-on, he thought to himself. I'd better take care of this myself. I might end up doing something really stupid.
Bob felt the blood course through his cock as he began to jerk himself off. The vision of the young woman's hot tits alternated with the memory of her brother's well-rounded buttocks. To slip his dick between those breasts or between the firmness of those buns was now a burning necessity. He knew that something odd was happening to him.
But whatever it was, it felt good.
He felt the thickness of his dick respond to the manipulations of his hand, he leaned back against the wall of the tiled shower and slid his hand up and down the thick shaft of his ten-inch prick.
The pent up passions of the afternoon were given full sway in the privacy of the shower. No one could see into his mind. No one could read the inner thoughts of the man as he pulled downward on his thick manmeat. Enjoying the secret longings of his furtive mind.
Bob felt the hardness of his cock increase as the red hot shower water bathed his nakedness. He could feel the pulsing man power of his nuts getting ready to explode. He felt the blood coursing through his cock and he began to gasp.
God, those breasts, he thought. Those hot young French titties, just yearning to be suckled. Those ripe young nipples straining to break through the confines of the bikini top, those firm hips.
Bob reached down with his other hand and grabbed hold of his thick hung sack of nuts. They were full of sweet cum. They were aching to be released. He felt the throbbing power of his cock and the thickness of the load that was in his nuts.
He knew that he could not hold it long. The visions of the French girl and her brother were swapping back and forth in his mind like a couple of darting dervishes.
First, the tits-those incredible tits. He knew that he would have her-she had invited him for a drink-she wanted more-he could tell.
Hot, hot was the scalding water that beat down on his body. Hot, hot was the blood that pounded though his dick, hot hot was the cream that welled up inside his nuts.
He knew that soon-soon-soon it would come, he would explode. He would shoot his load. He would let go of that hot load. He would shoot his thick cream into the hot stream of the shower. He would let go-empty his aching nuts. Lose that feeling of tightness in his groin.
Bob gripped the head of his dick and squeezed. Not yet.
He wasn't ready to let go that load-not yet.
Bob wanted to savor the thought of the French girl-think more about those tits. Those incredible melons that his mouth longed to suck, that his dick ached to squirm between. He wanted to feel the hot flesh of the French bitch on his own naked skin. He wanted that hot young filly to squirm and writhe beneath him. He wanted her body, he wanted her willing, hot young body against his. He wanted her brother!
There is was again-that disturbing brother! That young Frenchman with the hot buns. Why couldn't he get him out of his mind?
Why did the young man's butt turn him on almost as much as his sister's body?
What was happening to Bob?
Did it matter?
Nothing mattered now! Nothing but the fantastic feeling that Bob was getting as he gripped his thick meat, sliding his wet hand up and down the thick shaft of that hard, hard dick.
He gripped his nuts firmly in one hand and squeezed. He could almost feel the thick cream welling up inside his hot sack. He could feel the blood cursing through his cock. He threw his head back and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Arrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh!"
SPLAT!
"Arrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh!" SPLAT!
"Arrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh!" SPLAT!
Bob shot his load. He felt the thick globs of cum squirt from the head of his cock and his nuts throb. The cum shot out of his cockhead and he leaned back against the white tiles of the shower, his knees buckling under the relief of it all.
He dropped his hold on his cock and felt it slap against his hairy thigh.
Now, I really need that drink, he thought.
The bar in the Maison d'Aviles was more crowded than Bob had expected. Obviously, there was some sort of media event occurring.
The throng of bodies was oppressive, and at the same time exciting. Here were the most beautiful people in the world-film actors and actresses-the pampered pretties of the silver screen.
Bob pushed his way through the suntanned sycophants searching for the pair that he had met on the beach.
"Bob Garland!" he heard a voice exclaim! "I don't believe it!"
Bob whirled around to the direction from which the voice had come. His mouth spread into a wide grin.
"Mary Hallmark! What on earth are you doing here?"
Bob had not seen Mary since college-nearly three years before. They had been ... well "steady" was hardly a word in vogue these days.
"Come over here, Bob," Mary urged.
"I'll try," Bob laughed as three starlets bobbed their tits against him.
They three unnatural blondes giggled, brushing their tits harder against the virile young man's chest as he attempted to maneuver himself to the red-haired woman who reached towards him, martini in hand.
"Bob," Mary gushed as he made his way to her side. "How wonderful to see you."
The smell of her had always excited him. Now it was pungent. She was perspiring and the aroma of woman came to his nostrils with a flash of hot memory.
"And how wonderful to see you, Mary," Bob returned, pressing his lips to hers as they embraced in the crush of the mob.
She pushed her body against his, just like she had always done. It was a welcome feeling. Their bodies merged. Alone in the midst of many.
"How long has it been?" Mary asked, at last pulling away from his kiss.
"Too long," Bob said. "A hell of a lot too long."
"Same for me," Mary said. "Get me another martini, please."
"Hey, I just got here," Bob objected, laughing. "You want me to start waiting on you all of a sudden-again." It had always been a joke between them that Bob was there to serve Mary. In more ways than one.
"It's your natural position and you know it."
"Anything you say, Mary," Bob laughed. "Where's the bar?"
"Over there somewhere," Mary pointed a pink lacquered nail in the general direction of left.
"Be right back," Bob promised. He girded his loins and flung himself into the fray.
So many people-and most so incredibly beautiful, Bob thought as he winded his way through the throng. It was going to be a pleasant assignment dealing with the personalities here at Cannes. It was indeed.
Achieving the bar, Bob next had to get the attention of one of the busy bartenders. He watched the young men dispensing drinks like octopi to the thirsty thespians and journalists.
Nothing like a media party to bring out the beast in people, Bob thought to himself, watching the eager, leering faces of the thirsty vying for the attention of the libation bearers.
"Two martinis," Bob barked when he finally caught the eye of one of the young men.
The drinks were in front of Bob before he had thought possible. The bartender was a pro. And he was hot.
The bartenders were dressed in tight black pants and nothing else. Bob admired the young man's body as he accepted the drinks.
Strange, he thought. I've never really paid attention to men's bodies before. Must be the sun here-or something.
Returning through the crush to where Mary waited, Bob thrust the glass of liquid fire into the woman's eager hand.
"Such a gentleman," Mary smiled. "As always."
"What are you doing here?" Bob asked. "Drinking martinis," Mary laughed. "And you?"
"Covering this freak show for Visions," Bob said.
"I'm impressed," Mary said, hoisting her glass.
"It's a job," Bob said, returning the gesture.
It was more than a job to Bob, although he was not about to admit it to Mary. There had always been a sort of competition between them. She was from wealthy parents who indulged her every whim. He had had to work his way through college. Everything had come easy for Mary, grades, looks, money. To Bob, it had come the hard way.
"You always did do your job well," Mary said, savoring the taste of the martini. She was also savoring the way in which Bob had blossomed since she had last seen him. He had always been a good looking guy, but now he was what is generally described as "a hunk."
He looked especially attractive in the tuxedo and white turtle neck that he wore. It set off his dark good looks and his muscular body that she remembered so well. Especially the main muscle! That incredible ten inches of thick man meat that he had always been so proud to share with her.
"Why not stop by my place for a private drink before the evening screening," Mary suggested.
"For old times' sake?"
Bob knew very well what Mary meant by "old times' sake."
"Sure," he said, remembering her lush, expensive body. "That would be good."
"Better than good, I hope," she teased, pressing a knee between his legs as they were pushed closer together by crush of would-be stars.
"You came!" a delighted voice with a definite French accent sounded in Bob's ear.
"Not yet," he joked, and turned around.
There she was, the French girl from the beach, looking even more devastating in a white crepe du chine gown. He couldn't help looking over her shoulder, searching for the blonde brother.
"The evening has not even begun," the French girl promised.
Mary's knee in his groin pressed harder.
"Ouch," he let out involuntarily.
"Sorry," Mary said.
She didn't mean it and he knew it. Whatever else Mary was, she was possessive.
"This is ... " Bob spluttered. He didn't even know the name of the fantasy blonde who had supplied him with his jerk-off vision.
"Angelique Despierre," the girl purred.
"Delighted," Mary said, grasping Bob's arm and turning him in her own direction. "We have to be going."
Mary expertly steered Bob through the mob as he attempted to wave to Angelique who was standing where they had left her-looking bemused.
"Now, let's get down to business, stud," Mary rasped as she pulled Bob toward the bed in her hotel suite. "It's been along time since we've seen each other and I don't like to be kept waiting."
God, she was a demanding bitch, Bob thought. But a hot one.
Mary's mouth covered Bob's as he pressed against her body, feeling the firmness of her breasts press into his chest. He remembered those breasts, their round, firm nipples that grew hard when he took them between his teeth and nibbled on them. He knew that they were still his.
Mary grabbed at his cock through his trousers and felt the firm, thick piece of meat that she knew was there. It was hard-as she knew it would be. She always had had that effect on Bob-and on any other man she had chosen to allow to enjoy her pampered body-and she had chosen many.
"Nice piece of meat, you got there-boy," Mary said, feeling the firmness of Bob's prick. "Boy?" he asked archly.
"Well, excuse me," Mary laughed. "Old man."
"Not old," Bob said. "Not old by a long shot as you'll soon find out."
"So don't tease me," Mary said. "Let's do it, studmeat."
She ripped down the zipper of Bob's pants and thrust her hand hungrily inside. Feeling for his cock. Grabbing at the meat with eager, hot fingers that closed around the thickness of his cock.
"That's mine," she promised herself. "All mine."
"For now," Bob said. "Just for now."
"You bastard," Mary said, digging her nails into his nuts.
Bob winced at the pain, but something about Mary's aggressiveness had always excited him. There was something about a wanton bitch in heat that turned him on. The harder they played, the better he liked it.
They tore at one another's clothes, stripping them away and discarding them like rags onto the plush carpet of the hotel bedroom.
Naked they stood for a moment regarding the bodies each so well remembered.
"Not bad," Mary said, looking at the fine tone of Bob's dark, hairy muscled frame.
"Not bad yourself," Bob grinned. "Not bad at all."
"Real bad," Mary said, sliding to her knees in front of him. "Real fucking bad."
Bob felt Mary's hot tongue begin to lick at the head of his cock as she gripped his nuts in one hand.
"Lick it, bitch," he commanded. "Lick that dick."
Bob loved the feel of Mary's eager tongue as she prised open the piss hole and stuck the tip of her tongue in it.
"Ahhhhh," he groaned, knowing that this was just the beginning of an expert blow job. Mary had learned a lot in the intervening years. She had learned her lessons well, too.
Deftly she encircled the head of Bob's thick cock with her tongue running it back and forth across the piss slit and slipping it up and down the thick shaft of Bob's throbbing tool. A vein stood out on the side of his cock and she paid particular attention to that, taking the time to nip at his throbbing vein with her teeth, gently-then not so gently.
Her hand clasped his nuts tightly and then let them loose, tight, then loose. It was a great feeling, getting his dick licked and his nuts played with-and she really knew what she was doing.
"Now take it, take that cock." Bob was in command. He had Mary on her knees and he was in command-not the way it had always been with her calling the shots. He was going to fuck that rich bitch mouth of hers, fill it with his hot thick cum and shoot a load down her throat. She was going to take it-take all of his thick ten inches.
Mary opened her mouth wide and Bob rammed his dick down into her throat, filling her gagging mouth with the thickness of his meat.
"Take it, take that cock, you cunt, take it all."
Bob rammed hard, grabbing the back of Mary's head with both hands and pushing her all the way down, all the way down to the nuts.
"Suck, cunt, suck," Bob growled. "Suck my dick, you bitch."
Mary gagged, but she took it-took it all. Bob loved the way it felt as he rammed his meat deeper and deeper into the lush throat of the girl who knelt before him, rammed it deep, deeper into her hot, eager, wet mouth.
He slapped his nuts against her chin as he pumped his prick into her waiting, hungry eager mouth.
"Take that cock, you son of a bitching cunt, take it-take it all. Suck my cock. Suck it. Suck that hot cock, you slut. Take it-take all of it. That's right, bitch. Suck it-suck my dick. Suck it all."
Mary gasped and choked as Bob turned into a wildman, ramming his cock into the woman's throat, filling her with his throbbing ten inch stick of dynamite. It was about to shoot, too.
He could feel the load of cream welling up inside his sack of tight nuts. He could feel Mary's throat grip the shaft of his cock. He could feel the contractions and expansions of her tonsils, her tongue, her larynx.
He shot!
WHAM!
SPLAT!
WHAM!
Drowning her in his cum-shooting his load deep into Mary's eager sucking throat.
He pumped his load into her throat, feeling the gag reflex choking her-not caring-only feeling the strength of his own orgasm as he rammed it deep and buried his cock down her throat as she drained every drop from his dripping mancock and sucked it down, swallowed it, taking it all.
Abruptly, Bob pulled back.
Mary nearly fell forward on the floor at his feet.
"Great blow job, bitch," he said. "Now let's go to the movies."