Chapter 2
Bob squared his shoulders and marched into the foyer of the auditorium to participate in his first Cannes Film Festival screening. The crush of famous names and would-be famous names was overwhelming.
So much rode of the reception of the film-millions and millions of dollars. Worldwide.
And the few hundred people in this room this night would decide this. It was staggering.
The responsibility.
And he was here to report on it.
"Your friend is ... how you say ... possessive," Bob heard the now-familiar French accent mewing in his ear. He turned and there she was Angelique. Her white gown clung to her voluptuous figure like a second skin.
"That's one word for it," Bob admitted.
"You have another?" Angelique asked.
"Several," Bob grinned. "But let's talk about you."
"Always the gentleman," the French girl demurred.
"Not always," Bob said, remembering with glee the hard mouth-fucking he had just given Rich Bitch Mary Hallmark.
"You intrigue me more and more," Angelique lowered her eyes, taking in the thick bulge that showed in Bob's ample crotch. And you do the same to me, he thought.
Angelique laughed.
"I amuse you." Bob said.
"Not amuse ... interest," Angelique smiled.
There was an electricity between the two of them. Bob had noted it from the moment he spotted her on the beach. Now it was becoming claustrophobic.
"You have your friend to sit with you?" Angelique inquired.
"She had a previous commitment," Bob told the French girl.
"Ahhh, soo ... then perhaps you join me and my bother," Angelique suggested.
"I'd be delighted," Bob offered.
"Good," Angelique said. "Come with me."
Bob followed the voluptuous woman as she moved through the mob. She was like a sylph, gliding through a forest in the night. Her every move was music as he watched her undulating hips, her slightly swayed back and her strong shoulders that were bare.
They moved into the mobbed auditorium where hundreds awaiting the screening of the newest film from the enfant terrible of French cinema, Jean-Claude Poirot.
"It should be an interesting film," Angelique said over her shoulder as Bob watched her gliding figure.
"One only hopes so," Bob admitted. He couldn't care less about the damned movie. He wanted to get into that girl's pants-if she wore any. Which he doubted.
There was little left to the imagination in the gown that she wore. It clung in all the right places. As she moved, he could see the clear outline of her voluminous breasts, her amply hips and the curve of her stomach. She was a knockout. That was the only word that he could think of to describe her-a sheer-stunning knockout.
Bob felt the tightness in his crotch growing to hardness.
Damn, he thought. What's the matter with me? I just fucked Mary in the mouth, jerked off in the bathroom and this bitch is turning me on again.
"Ahhh, Philippe," Angelique said, as they stopped midway down the aisle. "I have a pleasant surprise for you."
The handsome young blonde Frenchman was seated midway in the aisle at which they had stopped. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Bob.
"How very nice that you could join us," the young man said. "Please sit."
He indicated the seats next to him. Angelique motioned Bob to enter the aisle first and he realized that he was to sit between the two of them.
His groin reacted.
What is the matter with me? Bob thought. I'm getting even more turned on by Philippe than I am by Angelique.
He slid into the seat and cupped his hands in his lap. His condition was becoming obvious.
Angelique sat down next to Bob and reached across his lap to pat her brother on the arm.
"I hope you will behave yourself," Angelique said. Philippe gave a gruff snort.
"He hates Poirot's films," Angelique explained.
"He has been known to cause a disturbance."
He disturbs me, Bob thought to himself.
"Do not worry, monsieur," Philippe said. "I will be on my best behavior in such charming company."
Bob looked quickly at the young man. Was he making a pass?
No, he decided. He was simply being Gallic.
The lights darkened in the auditorium and there was a burst of applause. The film was about to begin.
Bob felt a slight sweat break out on his brow. He tried to watch the credits of the film. He knew that he should be taking notes, but he was immensely disturbed by the presence of these two beautiful blonde French people on either side of him. Angelique he could justify to himself. It was natural for him to be turned on by a gorgeous woman-but her brother? That didn't make any sense to him.
Bob had never in his life been turned on by another man. He knew damned well that he wasn't queer. He'd never even entertained the thought.
What was it about this young blonde Frenchman that excited him so much?
Bob tried to turn his head slightly so that he could get a better glimpse of the young man. He's already seen him naked. He knew that he had an incredibly formed body. But it wasn't just that. Even here, in the confines of the movie auditorium, there was something androgynously charismatic about the young man. He oozed sex.
Bob felt a tension growing in himself. He had to ignore the young man. He had to concentrate on the film.
On the screen were several street urchins gouging through garbage cans. It was one of the most depressing scenes he had ever witnessed. He looked to the other side of him-at Angelique.
The blonde French girl was also looking at him.
"Depressing," she whispered. "Poirot's films are always depressing."
Bob felt her knee push against his.
His crotch reacted.
"That is why Philippe hates them," she continued in a muffled tone. "He hates anything grim."
"Me too," whispered Bob.
"Shhhhhhhhhh!! ! ! ! " came from several people around them.
Bob attempted to concentrate on the film. But the pressure of the girl's knee against his was disturbing. He could feel his cock growing hard as the pressure increased.
He pushed back.
She gripped his arm and help on. They were both looking straight ahead at the movie screen but neither of them was paying the slightest attention to the grim tale of Paris street life that was being played out in front of them. Both were thinking of the other one.
"Puke!" said Philippe aloud.
"SHHHHHHHHHHHH!" greeted his epithet.
"Shit!" he said.
"Philippe, please!" Angelique begged.
"I'm not going to sit through this merdel" Philippe leaped to his feet and turned to make his way from his seat. He turned face forward to Bob and the young man's crotch was in his face.
A distinct bulge was showing in Philippe's crotch-inches from Bob's sweating face.
"Excuse me, please," Philippe said. "I cannot sit through this."
He pushed his way past Bob and Angelique and to the end of the aisle and fled up to the back of the auditorium and out the back door.
Bob squirmed in his seat. Not only was the young man rude. He had had a hard-on. Why?
Bob was more confused than ever. It was apparent to him that there was an attraction between himself and Angelique. The pressure of her knee against his and the grip of her hand on his arm were testaments to that. That would explain his condition.
But his strange feelings toward Philippe? And what about Philippe's tumescent appendage-what had caused that? Proximity to Bob?
He was totally confused now and couldn't wait for the damned, interminable, depressing movie to end.
"Are you sure your brother will be alright?" Bob asked as he slid onto the sofa in Angelique's boudoir.
"Nevermind him," Angelique said. "He will drink himself into oblivion and curse Poirot until the sun comes up. He is always like that at one of Poirot's films. I had expected it."
"But then why ... "
"I said, never mind," Angelique insisted. "We have more interesting things to discuss. Namely you."
Bob was flattered. Here was this absolutely stunning girl who had virtually picked him up on the beach-now he was alone with her in her hotel room and she was leaning towards him, her mouth pursed to be kissed.
He responded.
He could feel the electric shock as soon as he touched lips with the girl. She was something very special. He had never felt this kind of thing before.
Lust, sure. He had felt that many times. But this was beyond lust, beyond desire. This was-perhaps-love.
Bob moved his body closer to Angelique's. He felt her body through the thin fabric of her gown. He grasped her with his hands and pulled her down on top of him as he slid his body full-length onto the couch. She responded.
She was smaller and more delicate than he had imagined. She was like a child stretched out on top of him, her warm, vibrant body undulating with his as he slowly began to run his hands over the slickness of her gown, crumpling it, pulling her tighter and tighter against him.
"You are very special," he whispered in her ear, taking the lobe between his lips and nibbling.
"And so are you," she whispered back, grinding her hips against his, pushing herself more and more firmly against him, feeling his body respond to hers, feeling the hardness of his manhood pressing into the softness of her gown, her thighs, her hot little love nest.
"Make love to me," she pleaded. "Please make magnificent love to me."
"Don't worry about a thing," Bob said. "I have every intention of doing just that."
"Let us go into the bedroom," Angelique said, pulling Bob up from the couch as she herself stood up. ""Let us get naked and make love to one another as never before for either of us."
Her strange syntax excited Bob even more. Her body was fantastic. The electric feeling between them was something he had never experienced. But even above all that was the foreign delight of her charming accent and the special way she had of speaking English.
It excited him even more.
"Come, let us love each other's bodies," she offered as she drew him into the darkened confines of her private bedroom.
Bob willingly followed her, anticipating delights he had never experienced, never dreamed of.
And he was not to be disappointed.
Her body had been in his mind since the first moment he had seen her on the each-clad in the incredibly revealing bikini.
Now it was made flesh before him.
Flesh for him to devour.
"Take me," she whispered as she lay naked on the bed before him. "Take me and make me yours."
Bob quickly stripped off his clothes and knelt beside the bed. He wanted to gaze first at the magnificence of her young bronzed body stretched out before him like a dawning sun.
She had the body of a Greek statue, perfect in every detail. From the high cheekbones and delicate structure of her face to the neck that sloped like a swan's to the rise of her full, young, ripe breasts to the gentle curves of her sloping stomach to the warm, moist nest of her love tunnel.
He licked her with his eyes. He devoured her flesh with his memory. It might never happen to him again. Who knew if her would ever see her again and he wanted to savor every moment, every inch of her incredible form.
"Do not worship me," Angelique begged. "Use me-I am yours."
She spread herself open to him, longing for the feel of his flesh on hers, in hers. He knew that this might just well be the most magnificent moment of lovemaking that he would ever experience and he did not want to in any way hurry it-he wanted it to last-forever.
Angelique reached out and gripped his hand and guided it first to her breast-that ripe young melon that had been kissed by the sun, formed by the gods for the delight of man-this man.
The shock of actually touching her breast almost made him shoot his wad right then and there. But he controlled himself. He was not going to hurry this-in now way was this to be a quickie. This was going to last him-for a lifetime if necessary.
Slowly Bob crawled up onto the bed. Feeling the flesh of her body with his hands then with his tongue as he knelt over her, his cock throbbing. He stuck out his tongue and dared to touch that perfect nipple, that nipple that looked and tasted like a fresh strawberry-so sweet, so succulent, so responsive.
"Ohhhh, oui, make love to me, Bobby, make love to me, please. You are so good, soooo good," the voice of the angel on the bed grew husky, deep and breathy. He could feel the excitement coursing through her flesh as the nipple hardened to his touch.
He licked at the swollen aureole, feeling the firmness that came into it. He dared to take the tender nipple in his teeth and gently nibble-to tease it with his teeth.
"Oh, mon Dieu," she gasped. "Oui, oui, oui."
Her tiny hands gripped his head and pressed it down harder on her tit, forcing him to bite her harder, to take her tender breast into his mouth and suckle on it, to nurse her like a baby."
"Suck it," she wailed. "Suck my tittie."
Bob could hardly control himself as she squirmed on the bed, thrashing and grabbing at his cock as he sucked her tit. She was guiding his meat toward her crotch, trying to get him inside her as he nuzzled her breast, suck her tit.
"Take it, take my tittie," she cried, like a little girl, whimpering and pushing her naked flesh against his with a fierceness that frightened him.
But Bob was not ready to take the plunge-not yet.
Slowly he moved his mouth down her luscious body, licking at her flesh, driving his tongue into her tiny navel, feeling the squirming, writhing woman-child beneath him catch fire as she screamed in delight.
"Aaaeeee! Yes, Yes, Oui, mon Dieu, yes!"
She was loving the tongue lube that he was giving her and the closer he got to her snatch the hotter she became. It was like she was a forest on fire-out of control. She writhed and wriggled beneath him on the bed.
Bob could smell the heady aroma of her womanhood rising to meet his hot, wet tongue as she thrashed about beneath him, squirming and screaming as he neared her love canal-that honey covered bush that opened before him, pink lips moist and willing-more than willing-eager. Hungry.
With a lightning stroke he drove his tongue into her hot cunt, touching her little love button with the tip of his tongue. It was on fire, exploding liquid lava onto his taste buds as she screamed her delight, grabbing the sheets with her hands and wringing them as she thrust her ass upwards from the bed to meet the deep plunges of his tongue, sucking and licking at the hot juices that flowed uncontrolled from her hot, deep pit of passionate desire.
Bob felt the almost uncontrollable joy that she was expressing. She was wild now. She was an animal. He could do with her what he wanted.
Grabbing her by the knees he quickly turned her onto her stomach, pulling her buttocks into the air. She gasped with amazement as his tongue that had been driving her clit mad now rammed deep into her hot little pink anus.
Her ass was as sweet as her cunt. He could feel the heat oozing from the little rosebud. She squealed with delight as Bob's tongue lashed in and out, in and out of that tight little butt hole. He reached up with a finger and tickled her clit as he reamed her hot, tight little virgin butt. Angelique could not control the spasms that were shaking her body now, she could only wriggle and squirm and squeal as Bob rammed his tongue deep into that forbidden hole. He gripped her little love knob now with two fingers and twiddled it as he rimmed her butt.
His cock was now throbbing, he wanted her now-wanted her in the worst way--and he was going to have her, too.
Pulling himself up on his knees behind her as she squatted on the bed, her ass in the air. Bob spit on his hand and rubbed it over the thick head of his cock. The girl was now delirious, ready for anything that he had to dish out to her and so when he pressed the thick bulbous head of his ten inch prick against the wet hot opening of her butt, she squealed and squirmed and wracked her body backwards, meeting his thrust as he plunged into her ass-hole, burying the shaft to the hilt, his balls slapping against the triangle of her cunt as she screamed.
Bob could feel the incredible tightness of her virgin butt as it gripped his meat. It was the most incredible feeling that Bob had every experienced.
Angelique wriggled her ass upwards, taking the whole length of Bob's cock deep, deep within her hot little ass-hole, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, taking all of his thick dick into her and holding on for dear life.
"Yes!" she screamed. "Fuck my ass. Fuck it, you hot man! Fuck my butt!"
Bob held tight to the young French woman's body, pulling her against him, driving his meat within her, feeling the hot plunges as he tore into her flesh.
He knew that this was the first time she had ever let anyone do this, the ass-hole was too tight.
He loved his and there were few women who could take it-not his ten-inch tool they couldn't. He was delighted that Angelique was responding to so well. Here was the kind of woman he could love. The kind who could take anything that he could dish out.
"Take me!" she screamed. "Take my ass. Fuck me! Fuck it hard."
Bob was ramming as hard as he could. He could feel the thick cum beginning to swell up in his nuts and he knew that in a few more strokes he would drop his seed deep into her hot, grasping little ass-hole.
Suddenly, he pulled back. His cock slipped from her ass-hole and he dropped her on the bed.
"Turn over, bitch," he commanded. "I want that hot French cunt of yours and I want it bad."
"Yes, yes," she whimpered eagerly. "Anything, anything at all."
She was his now. His to do with as he wanted. Anything that Bob desired this little Angelique would do for him.
"Suck it," he said. "Suck that cock," he ordered.
Eagerly she scrambled to her knees as he knelt on the bed, taking the shaft of his dick in one of her small hands and eagerly taking the thick head of it into her mouth. He pushed her back, driving the cock deep into her mouth.
She was licking and lapping at the hard, thick manshaft as he drove his hips forward, plunging into her sweet mouth like a pile driver. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him. She loved the taste, the feel, the power of his man's cock.
That's it, he thought. That's it, you little bitch. You love it, don't you? you love my cock.
Roughly he pushed her down on the bed.
"Now, spread those legs, bitch. Spread them." Angelique was eager to comply. She wanted Bob's dick in her pussy. She'd had it in her mouth, in her ass-hole, now she wanted it in her tight, hot cunt.
Bob gripped the shaft of his tool in his hands and guided the head of it into the honey pot that writhed and squirmed between her legs. He could feel the incredible grip of her hot, wet pink lips as she opened wide for him and he plunged!
"Take it, you little French bitch," he muttered, feeling the hot wetness of her cunt as he drove his mantool deep inside her.
"Yes, that's it," he said. "Take that cock, take it all."
He reached down and grabbed hold of her ass from beneath and raised her from the bed, meeting his plunges as he drove his stick shift into drive.
"Fuck me!" she screamed. "Fuck my pussy!"
Bob covered her mouth with his own and drove his tongue into her throat with the same power that he was driving his dick into her hot little snatch. She took all he had to offer, begging him with her body for more.
Bob's hot, hard dick drove deep into Angelique's squirming hot love nest and he could feel the power of his cum ready to explode. He knew that he was about to shoot his wad. He was going to drop his hot seed in that girl's writhing, squirming snatch.
Bob pulled up to take a final plunge and Angelique screamed with delirious delight. RAM! SPLAT!
His cum dropped into her waiting wetness with the power of a lightning rod. RAM! SPLAT!
He rammed it home, feeling the gripping tightness of her cunt eagerly eat up his load as he spurted his man juice into her hot wetness.
She screamed again as she felt the hot jolts of cream squirting into her.
Bob dropped her onto the bed, pulling his meat out.
They lay side by side, she gripping and tearing at his flesh gently with her fingers as she whined and whimpered like a kicked puppy.
Bob had had many hot fucks in his time, but this was something really special, really wild. He held her close to him, savoring the warm afterglow of their fuck.
Then a disturbing thought crossed his mind: Where was her brother Philippe at this moment, and what was he up to?