Dim hallway light filters through grimy windows. Pantin dead quiet. Neighbors vacationing, shops shut. Rain drips outside. Fresh shower, robe loose on my curves. Tits spill at the neckline, ass sways heavy. Doorbell buzzes low. Postman. Stocky, hairy, fortyish. Not my type, but Paolo’s in Azzuro Tuscany, tanning, chasing skirts. Handful of postcards. Italian stamps for Gérard. His eyes devour my cleavage. ‘Hot today, Régine,’ he smirks, stripping me bare with stares. I lean out, robe gaping. ‘Coffee? Tour’s slow.’ Heart skips. Risk hums. Door ajar, anyone could pass. He nods, steps close. Smell of sweat, mail bags. I back in, pull him over threshold. Kitchen next. No time for games.
Sink water rushes soft. Cups clatter hushed. He presses behind. Belly to my back, hands dive under robe. Palms my fat tits, thumbs rough on nipples. Hard pinch. I gasp quiet. ‘Shh,’ he breathes hot on neck. Cock tents pants, pokes my ass crack. Hand slips back, fumbles zipper. Out pops it. Thick, stubby, veiny like him. Precum beads. Turn fast. Kneel on cold tiles. Robe falls open, my bush exposed. Gulp him deep. Salty shaft fills mouth. Gag reflex fights, but I win. Suck sloppy, tongue swirls head. He groans muffled, fists my red hair. Parquet creaks under knees. Thin walls. Neighbors gone, but what if not? They know my screams with Paolo. Slut rep already. Thrill coils pussy wet. Balls slap chin wet. Faster. Light seeps under door. Footsteps outside? No. Just pulse pounding.
The Contact
He bucks shallow. ‘Fuck, Régine, best pipe ever.’ Five minutes flat. Cock throbs, swells. Hot jets blast throat. Bitter flood. Pull off, spit thick globs in sink. Rinse frantic, water splashes. He zips shaky, eyes glazed. ‘Putain.’ Peck on cheek, grabs sacoche. Door whispers shut behind him. Heart thuds wild. Wipe mouth, fix robe. Cum taste lingers, guilt-frustration mix. Paolo, you dog on plage azzuro. Take that, Jean-Paul. Sucker’s revenge. Mirror: flushed cheeks, smeared lips. Tits bruised red. Pussy aches empty, thighs slick. No fuck, just tease worse.
Vest green waits at shop. Oliviers mock from shelves. Rain lashes hard. Gérard takes stamps, grunts approval. Weekend off promised. Secret simmers sweet. Evening, bed alone. Fingers circle clit, replay hallway sin. Creaks echo mind. Neighbors sleep oblivious? Or heard slurps? Quartier whispers tomorrow. Train ticket booked. TGV to you, Paolo. Drain you dry. But now, silence wraps tight. Heart slows. Bizarre couple: me work, you nothing. Azzuro skies call. Here, cords pour. Boredom bites. Till next doorbell.