A French Affair

A FRENCH AFFAIR PART 01

Revisions

L'Affaire française

2024

PROLOGUE: JEAN-LUC

Je détestais les petits enfants, pouvais pas les supporter

. But I knew the road to love, or at least

chez grandes bites

, was often paved with smiles of babies, so I... tolerated them. But only to a point where it was not too detrimental to my own health and by extension, my sanity. The problem of course was that babies like me so much, like moths to a flame that they were.

I knew I was going to have to play the long game when I first saw Richie

mon cousin américain

with his tall spouse, waiting for me at the gates of the arrivals in the airport. I was initially mildly surprised: how tall and huge could someone get and still be in perfect masculine proportion? Added to that with a handsome chiseled face, mesmerizing grey eyes and a brilliant smile that could have melted the sun, and a hint of a bulge in his old-fashioned khakis, all made for a very masculine, very breeder-chic, very B.G. (that's French for a handsome guy).

He was quiet on the ride home from the airport. I was riding in the back with the baby - what was his name again? - and was making funny noises to distract the baby, who seemed to find my sandy blond hair amusing. Richie was talking about something or other, a pleasant drone to accompany the drive. Time and again I caught him looking back at the driver's mirror with that beguiling smile, and after a while I realized that he was smiling at his son's antics.

My asshole throbbed gently at the thought of having those smiling lips, so warm, so fatherly, latched deeply onto my pulsating anal rim, licking and tasting my secret hole, preferably after depositing a huge load of cum inside my warm French cunt.

CHAPTER ONE: RICHIE

I paused my ministrations and surveyed the scene. My husband Connor, the man I had loved and made love to for the past seven years, was looking at me with half-lidded eyes, with what looked from where I was perched like incredulity and brazen lust, incredulity at my current pause at bringing him to a full-throated orgasm with my fingers and my mouth. My handsome husband, who would move the ends of the earth for me, with his manly arms, wide pecs, his flat dad-tummy, his huge Irish cock and heavy fertile balls, from which had sprung our baby, completing our happy home, who now was seeking relief with his beseeching eyes. I thank the gay goddess for every day that I got to spend with this man, this perfect man, and that he had chosen me to be his husband, his partner in life.

"Come on baby, let me come."

"Say the word."

"What word, oh fuck baby." A glimmer of a quake, a shadow of an orgasm, passed in his cock.

"Come on, say that itty bitty word and I will let you come in my mouth" I made a show of licking my lips. "Might even swallow."

"... Please, baby."

He let out a big groan as I swallowed his cock halfway down to his root, where it became simply too thick to occupy my oral cavity. No matter, I worked my magic with what I had, slathering the thickness with spit and his own plentiful sweet-salty precum, running my active tongue up and down the length, rubbing the blunt head against the roof of my mouth, giving more stimulus for him to achieve his cum.

Suddenly he lifted his ass as if he could have achieved more depth inside my mouth. I groaned at that, earning myself a grunt from my lovable husband. My fingers came up the seam of his testicles, the line where both sacs met, that sensitive ridge that could have made him cum instantly had I not holding the root of his cock hostage with my other hand. I tickled my way down the ridge, while simultaneously blowing and rattling my palate against the head of Connor's gargantuan erection, a technique I had learned in college and now reserved specially for him.

"FUUUUUCKK BABY YOU'RE... GODDAMMIT I'M CUMMMMMMMINGGGGGG!" My husband cried out - or seemed to, in that controlled scream he had cultivated since we brought Colin home months ago. His cum came out in drenching flows, like an unstopped bottle of the finest wine or spirit. It tasted sweet and heady, reminiscent of the orange and pineapple juice concoctions I had him drink every morning since I married him. The flow spilled out of my mouth, running down the side of his cock, and pooled down below his balls. More for me to lick.

"Come up 'ere you lovely you." My husband murmured, his voice faint and already halfway slurry. He was always like this after a massive orgasm, slightly doozy and inebriated even if there was no speck of alcohol in his blood. My love for the man grew thousand-fold as I climbed over his massive hulking frame and settled beside him. I was not a small man, not by any measure, but standing - or lying - beside my husband, he dwarfed everyone by an inch or two - including all appendages - at least. Probably the Irish in him. "I love you honeybuns."

"I love you." I trailed my finger on his pecs, gathered my courage. "And speaking of love, won't it be er, lovely if we get an au pair for Colin?"

"Eeoh what do you mean?"

"Oh baby, it's already eight months, he should be okay, besides" - I leaned up and looked into the glimmer in his grey eyes - "I do miss my cousin, he can be our au pair, he can stay with us in the house, there's a room, a lovely room in fact, so I'll get to see my cousin and have an au pair."

"Two birds with one stone, my ever smart husband." My handsome hubby chuckled, kissed my forehead, then thought about the proposal. "A French au pair. Isn't that the international equivalent to a homewrecker?"

"Hush you're talking nonsense. Besides my cousin is probably straight."

"Okay I - yawn - you make the arrangements. Use my card if you need to, but not too much okay?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

CHAPTER TWO: RICHIE

It took a lot of preparation and jumping across red tapes and money, if we were going to be honest about it, but finally my cousin Jean-Luc was here in our home. He was a bona-fide model, the type who walked runways and graced magazine covers back in Austria where he was based, but he was a few months between assignments and rent and general expenses apparently had increased in Europe after the whole Covid debacle. It was also an olive branch gesture to that side of the family - one of my mother's sisters, who had since passed away, had run away from home to be with a French painter - I know, so cliché - back in the 80's - and besides, he would be an amusing attraction point to the family day-cum-dinner I was planning next month.

How to describe Jean-Luc? How did one describe a sunset, really? He was tall, but not taller than Connor - nobody was - and was as slim as a young athlete figure you often see on those ancient Grecian urns in museums. He had a chiseled face, the kind that looked like all edges and planes with his sharp cheekbones, but could turn soft and cuddly with a singular smile. His hair was curly, but kept short, which made him look like an adorable, particularly naughty angel. Most importantly he was good with babies, and Colin adored him from the get-go, which for me was the whole point of this enterprise.

"So, what do you think?" I was doom-scrolling at the vanity table, and watching my husband's reflection in the mirror. He was knee deep in his iPad, but his grey eyes flashed to me.

"About what?"

"About Jean-Luc, you dummy." We had installed him in the guest bedroom, where Connor had his old man cave-cum-office. It was across the hallway, but it was closer to where Colin slept in his cot. He was thankful that it had its own en-suite, so convenient.

"Well, he certainly is good with Colin."

"Don't you think he's a good-looking man?"

"Babe. He's a model. I think that comes with the territory." There, that lop-sided grin I had come to know and love over the years.

"Do you think he's gay?"

"I thought you said he's straight?"

"I don't know babe, I have a feeling."

"Auh, you and your feelings. Let's just go to sleep, I'm tuckered out."

Apparently husband dearest was not too tuckered out for a round of lovemaking. Though on this occasion he opted for doggy style, which was rather rare. He always made love to me in the missionary, loved how he could hold my hands, knock our rings together and make me come hands-free, and he loved to see deep into my eyes when we come together, which was often the case; inversely I always loved watching the light turn in his eyes as he felt my ass flutter this way and that around his welcome intrusion, and that special way his crow's feet scrunch up as he approach his climax. The other thing was when I turned to look at his face he had his eyes closed shut as he thrusted deep into my ass. I wondered briefly if he was seeing a certain Franco-Austrian guy behind the lids of his eyes. Then the rush of cumming blocked all thought from my sex-addled brain.

CHAPTER THREE: RICHIE

The rush was on. As the host for this year's family day cum dinner, I was in and out - though more out than in at the moment - of the house for the preparations: the food, the decorations, the special vegan catering we had to order for Aunt Louise, the games and activities for the children, booze for the adults, the list was practically endless, and I had to acclimatize Jean-Luc to the workings of our home on top of everything. But I took it all in stride, Jean-Luc was a fast learner, and most importantly was not neglecting baby Colin.

Connor helped where he could, mainly with setting up the decorations and the photos - so lucky to have a handsy man around the house - and planning the games for the kids. But most of the time he was content to be out of my way as I rushed in and out with my cousins - locally sourced ones - and get the house in tiptop shape. If there was anything more complicated needed he could always be found at the outhouse or the pool, playing with Colin in the water.

One time I watched from the kitchen windows, which faced the backyard, Connor and Colin splashing about in the pool. The dynamic duo looked so fetching, my tender giant and my little elf. I was washing the good china, which due to its delicate nature had to be hand-washed individually, and just had my head turned away at the moment when Jean-Luc came out, in a tiny blue-white pair of briefs, to join them. When I had my eyes on them again Jean-Luc was lying on the lounge chair on his front while Connor was sitting beside him, with Colin close by. My hands paused as I watched my husband rub sunscreen all over Jean-Luc's flawless alabaster skin. I imagined the same hands running on my body, rubbing cool aloe vera - our favorite lube - into the nooks and crannies, until a stray drop or two fell into the crack of my ass and my husband, the cheeky devil, dropped his fingers to rub the gel into my yearning asshole.

Suddenly my phone rang, shaking me out of my reverie. I wiped my hands and took the call, noting that Connor, Colin and Jean-Luc had left the pool probably to fan themselves in the outhouse. As I dialed off I distinctly remembered admiring the ethereal way the late summer sun reflect on the pool water, tiny ripples disturbing the surface, making everything glimmer in an unearthly fashion. Colin's discarded pacifier laid on the lounge chair, looking slightly sinister in its miniature solitude,

I had to go out, so I went out the backdoor towards the outhouse to tell Connor that I was leaving for the market. On the way I fetched the pacifier. Connor appeared at the door, looking slightly breathless but no less handsome in his trunks, body glistening from the pool, and did I imagine that his bulge looked more pronounced than usual?

"Babe, what are you doing here?"

"I just want to inform you that I got called to the market, something about Aunt Louise' vegan meal issue. Again. I'll be out the rest of the afternoon. Where's Jean-Luc?"

"Jean-Luc? Ahh, he's in the toilet... with Colin. Colin went to the potty just now and Jean-Luc's cleaning him up."

"Okay. Love you." I tiptoed to kiss my man. Mmm, his lips tasted delicious. "You're wearing the lip balm I bought you?"

"What? Uhh, yeah right, babe." He gave me another kiss, then sniggered. "How's that taste?"

"Wonderful. Okay I have to haul ass. And yeah, this." I passed him the pacifier.

"Bye babe. Love you."

As I left I swore I heard the sound of laughter, and a moan.

CHAPTER FOUR: CONNOR

I was a shitty husband, I knew it. The way Richie kissed my lips after I had them up around Jean-Luc's succulent ass was so wrong, it felt right. And he thought I was wearing the cockamamie lip balm he was always pestering me to wear, when all of it was just the essence of Jean-Luc's asshole. I went back inside the outhouse, past where Colin was sleeping off the swimming after his chlorine rinse, put down the pacifier beside him, and straight to the back where Jean-Luc was waiting.

He was perched on a counter I had built into a corner of the walls of the washroom - I had always been good with my hands, among other things. He was holding into his legs, so that they were laid open, while leaning on the angle, his beautiful face looking expectantly at where I was standing, rubbing on the bulge in my black trunks. A peek confirmed that Colin was dead to the world. When my attention returned to a certain French home-wrecker, he was rubbing the coconut oil with his long fingers into his hole, the hole that had just enjoyed my mouth a while ago.

The past week had been confusing to say the least. Every way I turned Jean-Luc was there, a haunting diaphanous apparition with a sexy accent and a sardonic sneer accompanying his animated Eurocentric gestures. He was a hands-on caretaker, with the already besotted Colin attached at his hip like an ancient nurse-maid with a very fetching figure. There was nothing nurse-like about his body though, it was all male, a willowy version of masculinity that I imagined very convenient to possess as a model in Europe.

And his eyes, God his eyes. They turned this way and that, flitting like a hyperactive butterfly, and capable of turning from incredulous to tender to childlike wonderment in the space of a conversation about cakes. And the way his eyes light up as he expressed pleasure at the taste of Richie's choice in the cream for the centerpiece cake - lemon meringue with a splash of cherry wine - made me felt tingles creeping from that secret spot behind my balls.

I remembered as I turn from the kitchen that day, I felt his eyes trail on me and realized he knew exactly what effect he had on my cock. Despite Richie, despite Colin sucking on his thumb in Jean-Luc's hold, I felt a hundred feet tall, like King Kong carrying succulent sacrificial bounties to be ravaged.

I was not looking for this. I was not expecting to be fucking the au pair - fuck, even saying it sounded like a bad telenovela all over again. But despite the looks and the turns, the silences and the words of the last few days, it was only at the moment my hand touched his skin when I rubbed the sunscreen over his toned and perfect body I knew for certain my cock was going to end up somewhere inside him. My treacherous cock had a mind of its own, and the moment it felt Jean-Luc's icy grey eyes watching intently my bulge started growing. The tipping moment came when he nonchalantly rubbed my bulge, watching my eyes for my reaction. Seeing I was allowing the action to continue, and even shifted my body so that it blocked the view from the kitchen window, he knew I was agreeable to his treatment.

I continued watching as Jean-Luc prepared his cunt, coconut oil glistening on his perineum. From where I was standing even his cock looked pretty enough to eat. I decided it was time, and pulled my trunks down. There was a snag as the fabric caught on my fat cock. I knew I had him by the strings from the way his eyes light up like a thousand Christmas baubles upon seeing my cock, which was already dripping precum like crazy.

"Come, Connor," Jean-Luc whispered throatily, in that seductive French lilt. "Come to

paradis

." Fuck. That rattle on the R might be the sexiest sound in any language. The fact that he referred to his asshole as paradise was not lost to me as I closed the distance between us and bent a little so that my cock lined up with the mouth of his hole, and watched down from my height at his cold unflinching eyes as with a small nudge my cock entered paradise.

"Fuck Connor,

très grand ce bâton

, so fucking big."

"Your cunt is so tight."

"Yes, so tight, my French cunt, all for you." I felt his anal muscles constrict, like millions tiny fingers milking my erection. Unbidden a groan rose from deep inside me. Funny how someone with such cold confident eyes could have a furnace grip of an asshole. "Can you feel that,

délicieux

, my beautiful cunt making love to your cock?"

I loved how he pronounced it: with a lazy drawl and a slight stop on the K, cocq-k, like he was savoring the word the way I imagined he savored all the beautiful things in life, the way he was savoring my erection with his asshole. "I can feel it, fuck, your asshole, so soft, so warm."

"Yes, yes, fuck me, you American daddy, fuck your cum into me."

I bent down and French-kissed (ha!) that whore mouth, because the more he talked the closer I get to cumming, and I wanted to relish my time with his ass. His tongue fought mine for dominance, and eventually won, licking and lathering his way around my lips and my oral cavity. After all it was a French kiss, I supposed the French would be better at it.

"Oh fuck Connor, do that again."

"Do what, baby? Do... this?"

"Oh

mon grand Dieu

, I must remember not to fall in love with you... too much." Jean-Luc sniggered. Despite myself I felt my cock grow larger at the mention of love. I must be doing something right to have the seducer falling over his heels for me the moment he had my cock in his snares.

"Fuck, your ass is - FUUUUCK! I'M CUMMING UP YOUR ASS!"

"

Oui, oui

, come up my cunt, it's your cunt, your fucking ass now!"

"LOADING YOUR CUNT, YOUR FUCKING FRENCH CUNT!"

"Ah

grande bitougne

!"

There was such a delicious buzz in my perineum, like someone was scratching a deep itch deep inside that knot of flesh behind my balls, the secret spot that tingled when Jean-Luc first talked about licking the cream. It thundered around my balls, radiating in pulses up my cock, gathering strength in my cockhead, which felt enlarged thousand-fold as it shot my scalding cum up Jean-Luc's anal chute, giving tender relief after the massive workout it had receiving my large cock. I held Jean-Luc's hips close, and his soft but toned thighs felt wonderful wrapped around my waist. A few minutes passed, but there was still some cum to be emitted, and the excess had dripped around my cock down Jean-Luc's carriage. "Ah fuck." I whispered against his skin, wet from the pool, the sun and the sweat of our sexual exertion.

"No, you did that, remember." He laughed, clear bell-like tinkles that echoed in the washroom. I felt fingers graze against where my cock was still stopping his anus, around which my cum was resolutely dripping. "So much cum."

"I can't remember I've ever cum so much."

"Well, thank you for the compliment, I guess."

Now it was my turn to guffaw heartily. "I guess."