My special thank you to Anton Uselmann for his editorial assistance.
A specific event early in my wife's sexual history unleashed a sense of liberation and driving hunger her sexual liberation to seek and experience and subsequent development. The story is substantially true, but fictionalized since I only know the basic sketch second hand. Nonetheless, some of Michel's technique is just as recounted by my wife from when she opened up to tell me of her sexual needs, wants and desires. To this day, after 29 years of marriage, Michel remains a fly in the ointment of our lovemaking. Bastard.
* * * *
As a freshman coed at the University of Oregon, Lynne had only given up her virginity three months earlier; this to a young man she met the previous year as an exchange student in Cape Town, South Africa.
The two young lovers planned it through letters exchanged over the year since meeting. The surprising love relationship took hold on the strength of moving and artful words written and read between them both over long-distances.
Derrick came to America for a six-week visit in June. Before his departure, they had exchanged words of commitment and devotion that implied theirs was a monogamous relationship. That was Lynne's intent and though she could not have known destiny had already put it at risk from the attentions of a wily, talented French graduate student. This is the true story of Lynne's seduction and the release of her repressed spirit for sexual adventure.
That fall she entered college, joined a sorority and at a sorority social exchange, met Michel, a most beguiling, virile and cunning Frenchman. Oh, he was quite handsome with dark features, thick dark hair, a dashing moustache and twinkly eyes with long lashes. Not feminine mind you, just damn cute to impressionable young ladies.
Michel was six years her senior and had a lot of experience with women. As the house manager of a fraternity, he was one of very few to have his own room, which he used to great advantage seducing younger women. His fraternity hosted a social exchange with the sorority Lynne had joined. Michel loved these, particularly at the start of the year when the prey was less gun-shy and the quarry fresh from the farm.
He quickly spotted Lynne and maneuvered to create an introduction. Once accomplished, he played a fine game to intrigue her with his sexy French accent, deft flirting and mysterious withdrawal from contact. His skills at seduction were in sharp contrast with those clumsy fraternity dolts. His technique was sufficiently subtle to be undetectable.
Meanwhile, Michel made sure their conversation was directed according to Lynne's interests. Letting her do most of the talking, he learned she was a well-read news junkie capable of highly animated and diverse conversation. Good stuff for a political science PHD candidate. It really helped him get inside her mind. So successful was he that Lynne masturbated to thoughts of Michel later that evening.
Michel quickly learned that Lynne was both smart and committed to her long-distance boyfriend. She would not fall into his lap. So be it, he thought, I love a good puzzle to solve.
Michel deftly followed Lynne and developed an understanding of her class schedule so he could make sure they "accidentally ran into one another" on a frequent, unpredictable or to emphasize an absence disconcerting to her. Each time he carefully prepared some provocative flirting topics of interest to her. One nice autumn day he performed his first "trial close" by asking her to join him canoeing the next day.
She accepted with a grin, and arrived at the designated time and place to find he had prepared a romantic French-country picnic. It was a warm day during an Indian summer and their relationship deepened as topics became personal. Michel loosened Lynne up to get her talking about Derrick, the difficulties and realities of long-distance relationships; how living without shared experiences could add emotional distance between them, etc. All this was undertaken with respect and purposely avoided suggestive touching beyond that needed for emphasis. He carefully avoided letting this discussion stray towards a declaration of firm commitment, but subtly planted seeds for her to contemplate taking a bit more freedom to pursue her interests. Namely him. Michel needed her trust so made no attempt to kiss Lynne.
Toward the end of the picnic, Michel asked her to accompany him at a homecoming ball his fraternity would be hosting. By the end of the picnic, Michel had succeeded getting her acceptance for a date to the homecoming ball.
She had two weeks to solve the problem of finding a dress that would not disappoint a sophisticated, worldly Frenchman. Like the country girl she was, she sewed her own. Doing it herself was the only way to she could fabric of the quality necessary to get an elegant, sexy fall within her budget. It was a simple pattern of silk. Just the right fabric for tailoring a lay against her skin and hips while flaring at the bottom for "swish effect" and Asian-like slits up the both sides to be sexy.
The back was entirely open, almost to her butt, and certainly suggesting it by revealing to top of her crevice. Her thick blond hair hung past her butt and would cover it while leaving open the opportunity for clandestine viewing.
The top attached with a clasp behind her neck, holding up the halter-style front covering her breasts. The sides of the halter had a racy cut that and taunted viewers to seek a peek of her breasts swelling along the sides.
Damn those other rich sorority girls had it easy, but they could not compete with hand-made, tailored dresses. The cost was losing sleep each night after studies to present herself as she thought Michel would want. It did not escape her that she was putting an awful lot of effort into a sexy looking dress for someone she had no intention permitting inside it. She was confident this wasn't going to be a problem since Michel had always been such a gentleman. She trusted him and herself.
In any case, Lynne's figure was perfect for the pattern she chose. As a past state champion sprinter, she was lean and lithe. Her butt was firm between narrow hips and stood on toned, muscular legs ending with narrow ankles. The thin silk fabric would be snug enough to match her figure while having room for the dress to flow. Any pronunciation to her remarkably pouty nipples would be easily visible since it didn't permit a bra. Peach was the only color for such a dress.
Lynne was excited when the night of the ball finally arrived. It was her first college formal and an entirely new experience. She had enjoyed each surprise encounter with Michel while going to or leaving classes. His conversation was uncanny, always so different yet familiar. Something she instantly engaged him on. On top of that, his French accent made her feel things she should not be. At night, she wanted to stop masturbating to images of him taking her, but found it impossible to do.
Damn, she said to herself, "I love Derrick and will not let this go beyond my personal play."
