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The concluding episode of this torrid tale

Emboldened by their encounter at Le Castille our heroine is determined to track down her mysterious paramour. A few discrete questions, a couple of modest bribes, it's not too difficult for Cecile to discover the whereabouts of her mysterious domme - lunching as is apparently Madame's custom in a bistro opposite the publishing firm where she is a directeur. Cecile slips quickly into the seat opposite and fixes the woman with a conspiratorial smile.

*quot;Forgive me,*quot; says Cecile, *quot;but I can't stop thinking of you.*quot;

The woman appears nonplussed, but not hostile.

*quot;Really? Should I know you?*quot;

*quot;Je m'appelle Cecile,*quot; she removes her beret, shaking out an auburn mane.

The woman across the table at first looks puzzled, then realisation dawns. *quot;From Le Castille?*quot;

*quot;Qui. Room number six.*quot;

*quot;Alors! I cannot forget you either, not that I wish to. Je suis Elodie,*quot; she proffers a hand.

Cecile takes a moment to consider her companion anew, noting the understated way in which only the rich seem able to dress; today a simple off the shoulder top and long, retro print skirt. *quot;Since we, um, met I've felt a little guilty; you gave me such pleasure yet gained little in return.*quot;

Elodie favours the younger woman with a seductive lowering of her eyelashes. *quot;Not at the time perhaps, but since then I have replayed our dalliance in my head frequently. Recalling the erotic way we kissed, your wild reaction to being chastised and taken - it makes me wet even now.*quot; By way of illustration Elodie covertly takes Cecile's hand and slides it up underneath her skirt to the front of her damp panties.

Cecile lets it linger, slips a finger under the elastic to tease Elodie's shaven sex, eliciting a stifled gasp as her thighs clutch together in response. Reluctantly she pushes Cecile's arm away. *quot;Non cheri, this is not 'When Harry met Sally', don't make me come in the middle of a crowded café.*quot;

Cecile nods and tries another tack. *quot;Do you switch?*quot;

Elodie shrugs enigmatically. *quot;I'm submissive to my husband naturellement, to a woman never before.*quot;

*quot;And now...?*quot;

*quot;It's possible...*quot;

*quot;Desirable.*quot;

I think Ataşehir Öğrenci Escort maybe,*quot; one can almost hear her brain whirring.

*quot;I should like to take charge of your pleasure, and pain,*quot; Cecile presses her advantage.

Elodie calmly considers this offer while the younger woman's heart thumps wildly -- wondering if she's gone too far?

*quot;My card, discretion as always please cheri, I am home alone this Friday, monsieur is in Zurich on business, also I think to see his mistress.*quot;

*quot;You're alright with that?*quot; Cecile can't conceal her surprise.

*quot;Complaisant,*quot; shrugs Elodie. *quot;I am free to do the same.*quot;

*quot;You have a lover?*quot;

*quot;Not yet -- shall we say 8.30pm?*quot;

The apartment, on an upper floor of a prestigious old building overlooking the Sienne, is not easily accessed. Only when the concierge has called to double check she's expected is Cecile admitted to a marble floored atrium from where a lift smoothly whisks her upstairs.

On the sixth floor Elodie awaits, coolly composed and attired in a flattering cut two-piece ensemble complemented by Louboutin heels. In contrast Cecile is casually clothed in a simple summer dress and ballet pumps. Where Madame is carefully, and she suspects expensively, made-up and coiffed Cecile neither wears nor needs more than lipstick; hair piled loosely in a bun and projecting an aura of girlish innocence.

Elodie leads her into a sumptuously appointed appartement, closing and locking the door. In an atmospherically lit lounge with old and classy furnishings (the sort classy people inherit, never buy) two glasses of red wine are already poured on a long low table. As soon as the door closes the pair embrace fervently, ardent hands exploring each other's bodies. Red lips sensuously parting then locking into deep kisses; tongues pushing and swirling, bodies shivering with pent-up passion.

Ceciile gently pushes Elodie back onto a large upholstered sofa. Sitting adjacent, eyes locked, each takes a large gulp of wine, a palpable frisonne of silent expectation sparking between them. Social pleasantries seen somehow superfluous, both know the raison d'etre of this assignation. The only question is who will Ataşehir Çıtır Escort lead and who'll be led? Cecile cuts directly to the chase.

*quot;How does your man make you submit?*quot;

*quot;I choose to obey him,' Elodie corrects the assumption, *quot;sadly far too infrequently of late,*quot; she adds wistfully. *quot;Being a member of government takes so much of his time. To answer your question directly he knows I adore strict discipline as a catalyst to arousal.*quot;

*quot;As I thought,*quot; murmurs Cecile, *quot;be assured I shall behave no differently. Her tone abruptly changes, *quot;stand up and remove your skirt.*quot;

Elodie does so, while maintaining her sang-froid. Her putative lover's hands run lightly up sheer stockings into the V of her thighs, eliciting a shiver of desire en route.

*quot;These must go,*quot; Cecile announces, decisively pulling down flimsy panties. *quot;Sit back, lift your derriere and spread your knees. Hold yourself open Elodie; present your pussy.*quot;

Wordlessly the older woman complies, a pink flush of sexual excitement already spreading across her cleavage. Cecile takes the knickers and pushes them into Elodie's mouth.

*quot;We may need to stifle screams,*quot; she observes casually.

Elodie has evidently been well trained, hands behind her knees, glistening pussy gaping invitingly. Feeling wanton, vulnerable and oh so turned on, no longer responsible for her actions....


Celine drops her mouth to Elodie's pussy, kissing, probing and sucking at the nub of her clitoris. Opens her capacious handbag to remove a vibrator and presses the oscillating end against love-slicked labia. Elodie's crotch tingles as the speed increases, creating waves of overpowering sensation her hips buck wildly back and forth; the wetter she becomes the more intense the pleasure.

Slap! *quot;Oh*quot;, a muffled gasp of mingled affront and surprise as Celine's hand strikes her exposed vulva. Elodie moans, caught in a confusion of pain and pleasure. A second application of palm to pussy almost sends her out of control and over the edge. Slap... slap, stinging her clitoris, sending tremors through her lower torso.

Celine's palm slides along Elodie's silky inner thigh towards her knee. She feels Ataşehir Elit Escort the woman tense and whimper in anticipation of further exquisitely painful smacks, sure to leave livid red marks. Oh God, it's too much; she both hates it and desperately hopes for more.

Another impact - so sore, so close to her labia. The next falls directly onto her wet horny cunt, throbbing and dripping with desire; thighs burning Elodie aches to be filled. The spanking momentarily ceases and the vibrator returns, she desperately yearns to orgasm.

*quot;You aren't allowed to come yet,*quot; cautions Celine, correctly gauging her desire. She pulls the panties from between pearly white teeth. *quot;I want to hear you make a noise.*quot;

Any remaining vestige of Elodie's dignity disappears. She sobs in frustration, humiliated by her helplessness, hot tears sending rivulets of mascara running down her cheeks; craving release, dishabille, and, in Celine's opinion, so very beautiful even in distress.

Celine pushes the Elodie's knees even further apart. Sat directly opposite on the big sofa thighs spread she pulls Elodie's legs over hers, shuffling forward until their crutches deliciously collide and grind. A double-ended dildo from her bag of tricks easily slides into her own hot honeypot then smoothly enters Elodie's pouting, pulsing pussy. Quickly gaining confidence the pair lean back, arms taking their weight, hips thrusting lewdly forward, energetically fucking. Elodie shrieks as her poor smarting pussy is penetrated.

*quot;Do you believe you've been thoroughly disciplined? Are you now a good enough girl to get screwed?*quot; enquires Celine wickedly. Elodie frantically nods her assent, hardly able to breathe, lost to lust, cunt throbbing -- jerking noisily towards a violent orgasm. Seconds later Céline reaches a climax every bit as intense and abandoned. Lies next to Elodie, holds her until she ceases panting and trembling, bends to softly kiss her still smarting sex.

*quot;Next time I shall pull your bottom cheeks apart and smack that lovely tight rosebud,*quot; whispers Cecile salaciously. *quot;Perhaps monsieur might join us and fuck your arse as consummately as he did mine while you tongue my pussy?*quot;

Elodie shivers at this erotic reverie, this girl has such filthy fantasies; but so too does she. A wicked image of a riding crop striking Cecile's breasts enters her mind. Elodie smiles and reaches to retrieve their toys; playtime resumes...