Junior Year Abroad

This is Part 5 of the

Survivor Revival Challenge

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organized by Tara Cox. This is the story of Jim & Marybeth, and eventually others, of course. You can expect daily installments.

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Jim learns Hélène, the daughter in his host family, is a flagrant submissive

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Jim went window shopping on the way home. He passed by a lingerie shop and, looking in the window, tried to imagine what Marybeth would look like wearing the same nightgown that the mannequin was wearing, with nothing on underneath. His imagination gave him an erection, so he turned away. What could be more embarrassing than getting an erection from the window of a lingerie store?

He got back to the home of his host family, which he was psychologically unable to call his home, and headed straight for his room. He had a fair amount of schoolwork to do, due to all the 'lost' time fucking Marybeth's brains out at the luxury hotel. God, that was nice!

The door to his room was locked, and there was a sign scrawled on it, saying, "Do Not Disturb!" He put his ear to the door and heard a woman softly moaning, and bed springs slightly creaking. He looked for Pierre, and found him in the apartment's séjour (French for living room), glued to his computer. He was watching porn, of course.

"Hi, Pierre. My room seems occupied. Is your sister home?" Jim asked. Jim knew Pierre's sister Hélène had moved out, and the host family had given him her room. Apparently, she was back, for an afternoon romp with her boyfriend.

"Yeah. She asked me to tell you not to disturb then. She'll be out in an hour; earlier I guess, since she's already cum," Pierre said.

Jim was amused. Pierre, the younger brother of Hélène, was sharper than he thought. He must have heard her scream. He wondered if Hélène faked orgasms. Hélène was a sullen girl, who came home on Sundays for the big Sunday meal, and those Sundays when he was home and not out wandering about were the only times he had seen Hélène.

Pierre was right, and Hélène and her boyfriend emerged from her room around ten minutes later. Hélène was dressed in a T shirt and a jeans skirt, and her loser boyfriend wore a hoody and dirty jeans.

"You won't tell Mom that François and I were here, and that we were, ah,..." Hélène began.

"Fucking? You know the price of my silence," Pierre said.

"Oh, hello Jim. Sorry but your room is a bit of mess," Hélène said, and she blushed.

Jim smiled. He could smell the sex. Suddenly the sullen sister Hélène looked sexy to him. He seemed unable to get sex off his mind. Hélène seemed to be waiting for something.

"Uh, Jim, maybe you should check out your room?" she said, tentatively. For some reason she wanted Jim out of the way.

"It's okay. I'll air it out and I'm sure it will be fine," Jim said, and Hélène blushed again.

"You know the price for my silence," Pierre said again. Hélène looked at Pierre, and then nervously at Jim. Jim made it clear he was not going anywhere, as he stood near the back of the room, behind Pierre. Jim leaned against the fireplace mantle.

"Just do it, Hélène, and let's get out of here," her boyfriend François said.

"But Jim is here, and, and..."

"Give Jim a treat, too. I guarantee you he won't mind," François said.

"Yeah, if my price is going to be less valuable with François and Jim both here, I want the complete package this time," Pierre said.

Hélène blushed a lovely shade of fuchsia. "You're asking for too much," Hélène said. She was nervous, bordering on terrified. She glanced at the huge French windows, none of which had curtains. Anyone could see inside the apartment, although it was difficult to do in the daytime.

"It's my price. Take it or leave it," Pierre said. Jim was dying of curiosity as to what was going on.

"Jim and François, would you mind leaving the room for a few minutes, please?" Hélène asked. "Pierre and I have a private matter to discuss."

"They stay," Pierre said. Jim had to admit, Pierre dominated his sister. She was four years older than the little shit, and yet he dominated her. Hélène was afraid of Pierre, and for some reason, terrified of her mother.

Hélène just stood there, facing her little brother, almost shaking in her tall, brown, leather boots.

"Give it to him, Hélène. You have no choice," her boyfriend François said.

"But Jim is here, too. It's too humiliating!" she said.

"I won't tell anyone anything," Jim said, trying to be helpful. Everyone ignored him. Apparently, he didn't matter; it was just his presence, or lack thereof, that counted.

"Okay, you win," Hélène said, and Pierre looked up from his laptop for the first time since the whole exchange began, with Hélène asking Pierre and Jim to keep secret her tryst with François.

Pierre stared at Hélène with hard eyes. Jim had never seen the cruel streak in Pierre that was suddenly so apparent in his eyes, as he looked at his sister, who was scared out of her mind. François understood the dynamics, and his face just looked amused. It seemed to Jim that François was looking forward to whatever was about to happen.

Slowly, Hélène began to remove her T shirt. Jim instantly realized exactly what the price was, that Pierre had demanded. Her T shirt came off revealing a boring white bra. Jim had not noticed before how nice Hélène's boobs were. He imagined they were in between a B and a C cup sized boobs, but he was no expert.

Hélène next removed her boots, and her pants quickly followed suit. Then she froze. Pierre glared at her. She trembled. She was now clothed only in a bra and panties. Jim had to admit she had a mighty fine body, and ethereal, almost luminescent, skin.

"Couldn't it be at least only you and me? François and - especially - Jim could wait for me in one of the bedrooms?" Hélène asked.

"They stay. Continue," Pierre said. He said it in the tone of a hard man, a thug, maybe a gangster.

"But..." Hélène said, freezing with fear.

"It's okay, Hélène," François said. "It's nothing Jim and Pierre haven't seen before, right guys?"

Since Jim wasn't completely sure what was going to happen, he just stood there. Silent.

Pierre said, "Jim stinks of sex. He just laid some slut before he came home. He's seen it all. No big deal. Besides, Hélène, you have a great body. You need to show it off more. Now strip! Now."

"That's the first nice thing you've ever said to me, Pierre," Hélène said. She appeared to be moved by the complimentary words of the little shit.

"It wasn't nice. It's just a fact. Now strip!" Pierre ordered.

Hélène seemed so thrilled that Pierre had complimented her body, that she quickly removed both her bra and slid her panties down to her ankles. Jim had anticipated that Hélène would remove her bra, but he was surprised how quickly and willingly she removed her panties, too! He would certainly have thought there would be more drama before Hélène would strip naked! He realized that normally the 'price' might be showing just her boobs, but he guessed the 'complete package' meant total nudity. It all happened so fast that Jim's skills were pushed to the limit, but he still managed to take, surreptitiously, an iPhone picture of the gorgeous site of Hélène stark naked. He could even see traces of François' cum at her pussy. Her bush was quite artistically trimmed. She looked amazingly delicious.

"Turn around," Pierre said. Hélène complied. Holy shit, Jim thought, her asshole was dilated and looked like Marybeth's asshole just after they had enjoyed anal sex! Well, good for François! Apparently, he had just nailed both of her holes. Good for Hélène, too, for that matter! Jim guessed Hélène probably also gave François a blowjob, in which case he would have gotten the trifecta: all three holes.

"Nice going, François. You got my sister's anal cherry. Okay, Hélène, today you get a choice. Will it be Jim, or me?" Pierre asked.

"Why are you so mean to me, Pierre?" she asked.

"Come on, Hélène. You know you love it. I'm being nice to you. Jim or me?" Pierre said.

Jim was wondering what was going on. He wasn't sure he liked being dragged into this, but he couldn't tear himself away from the sight of Hélène's hot body. And, she was French. One of his goals had been to lay a French girl, and here was one, 22, and with a gorgeous, naked body, right in front of him. And this right after his blowout weekend with Marybeth?

Jim had only seen fear and submission in Hélène's eyes, and a kind of delight in François' eyes, and nothing but sadistic domination in Pierre's eyes. He imagined his own eyes were a mixture of bewilderment and standard twenty-year-old male lust for a naked woman, standing there right in front of him.

Hélène's eyes changed suddenly. The fearful submission he had seen in them flashed anger and hate. She stared at Pierre and he stared back.

"I choose Jim, you asshole," she said to her brother. He just smiled. It was a smile of pure evil.

Hélène walked over to me. Her face changed. She was smiling at me, and her hips swayed just a bit with her walk. She no longer looked sullen, but - what's the word? - happy, or expectant? Pierre's eyes went back to his computer. He wasn't even watching. François settled into a chair, as if to watch a show. Hélène reached Jim, and she kissed him, gently on the mouth.

Jim was taken aback. Suddenly this sullen, awkward, older sister, had become a femme fatale from the movies, and she was seducing Jim with her naked body and her kisses. Jim was already hard from gazing at her body. Jim completely forgot about Marybeth and returned Hélène's kisses, wondering what might happen next.

Hélène's hands went around Jim's neck as they kissed, and so Jim gave free reign to his own hands and let them roam over her back. He slipped them around to her front and fondled her boobs. When he tweaked her nipples, she groaned, just a little. He let his hands fall down to her ass, and he squeezed her ass cheeks a little, just tiny loving squeezes of her supple, fabulous ass.

Jim's hands discreetly moved to the front and he began to stroke Hélène's bush. They were positioned so that François couldn't see him doing it, and Pierre wasn't even trying to see anything, once again being absorbed in his computer. Hélène did not protest but instead opened her mouth to French kiss Jim when he fondled her bush.

Emboldened by her reaction, Jim's stuck a finger inside Hélène's pussy, and moved it around. Hélène's reaction was to intensify her kissing. Jim smiled through the kiss, and he began to finger fuck Hélène as they kissed. Hélène moaned softly and kept right on kissing him.

In return, Hélène's hands went to Jim's cock. She discovered he was hard for her, and she gave his cock a little squeeze, right through his pants, with her body hiding her action, presumably so that her boyfriend François wouldn't see what she was up to.

Jim and Hélène continued to French kiss. Jim loved the idea that he was French kissing a French woman, and in France! Not only was he French kissing a French woman, but she was naked, nue, or à poil, in French. He was fingering her, and she was squeezing his cock lovingly, right through his jeans.

Something flipped in Jim, and he broke the kiss. He took her hand. He led her off to the bedroom that had been hers, and was now his, but only of course for this academic year. François jumped up. He realized if he let Jim take Hélène to his/her bedroom, his submissive little slut of a girlfriend would let him lay her. That was unacceptable. He intervened, and Hélène awoke from her sexual trance.

"Kiss my boobs," she said, as François tried to pull her away.

Jim complied, and Hélène groaned. "See you soon, I hope" she whispered in beautifully accented English, and she winked at him, as she let François pull her luscious, naked body away from Jim and his bed. Jim loved the accent of a French woman speaking English. He found it hopelessly sexy.

Not another word was spoken as Hélène got dressed. Pierre was still glued to his laptop. François and Hélène left, without even an 'au revoir,' and suddenly it was once again only Jim and Pierre. Pierre said nothing.

Finally, Jim spoke. "Pierre, what was that all about?"

"My sister's a submissive slut. We enjoy our little games. She's fabulous in bed, you know. Play your cards right, and you can find out for yourself. Seduce her when François is not around. Hey, come with us to church on Sunday, why don't you?"

"Thanks, Pierre, but I'm usually busy on Sundays," Jim said.

"Too bad, you'll be missing out on a hot piece of ass. Church on Sundays really gets my sister's motor running, you know what I mean?" Pierre said, meaningfully. "You'd be amazed what goes on down in the crypt during Sunday mass. It's not just Hélène; sometimes it's three or four girls getting laid down there. They always finish in time for the Agnus Dei, so you have to move fast."

Pierre paused for a minute, and then continued, "You could lay her this Sunday down in the crypt, if you want. It's really kinky. She has to mute her moans, but she's really hot when you do her in the crypt, especially if other girls are getting laid down there too, at the same time. This week probably Marie-France and Nicole will get laid in the crypt. I've made the arrangements. I have the keys to the crypt you see. Everyone goes through me. You really ought to come," he continued.

"But I guess you have your hands and other body parts already busy with your mysterious girlfriend, am I right?"

Jim just stood there, stunned. "Excuse me, please. I have to air out my room, and then get busy with my schoolwork," Jim said.

"Have a good time," Pierre said, with an evil glee in his tone of voice. He knew Jim would be beating off to the photo of his sister he had secretly taken. Pierre misses nothing; of that, Jim was sure. He hoped Jim would come to mass this coming Sunday. François never went, but Pierre's sister Hélène always went. It would be fun to see Jim put it to her.

Would he, or wouldn't he? If Jim decided to spend the weekend fucking the brains out of his mysterious girlfriend, Pierre couldn't blame him. He would then let Claude have his first time with his slut of sister. After all, Claude had offered him € 100 to get his turn in the crypt with Hélène. That too, would be fun to watch.

Jim was back in his room, sitting at his desk. His laptop open in front of him, as he tackled all the homework due the next day. His mind kept wandering back to the image of Hélène naked, and how her kisses and her naked body felt. He continually pushed those images out of his mind in order to remember how astonishingly wonderful his time with Marybeth had been. Think of her, he kept telling himself.

Jim's desk was up against the window. His twin bed was behind him, along with his closet where he stored his small amount of clothing. As he worked at his desk, remembering his fabulous times with Marybeth, and the kisses with the naked Hélène, he happened to glance over his laptop and out the window.

The sun had set, and any window with its lights on appeared like a yellow, miniature TV screen. Many of those TV screens had no curtains, allowing him to look right inside the apartments in the building across the street, facing the one he was in. In return, they could see him. Big deal, who would want to look at him?

He scanned the windows, just out of boredom, as he thought about Marybeth naked, and also Hélène naked. Suddenly there was movement in one of the windows. Thoughts of Marybeth and Hélène disappeared, as he took in what he saw in that window. Holy Moses, what a sight! He stared, transfixed at the sight he saw, unfolding right across the street from him. Wow.

****************** To Be Continued *************