Across The Sea

"That's a lot of tits."

"Yes," Carl laughed, "Yes, it is."

They were in the Louvre. Carl had wanted to show Staci something beautiful. Despite promising to show her around the city, he didn't really know it himself and couldn't think of anything better.

They'd squeezed themselves into the overcrowded room with the Mona Lisa then made their way to the less busy French Neoclassical. They were stood in front of The Turkish Bath by Ingres. There were, as Staci said, a lot of tits.

"I never knew art could be so pervy. I like it though. It makes me horny."

"Everything makes you horny."

"That's true," she laughed. "You know what we should do tonight? Go to a strip club."

"A strip club? Really."

"Sure. Why not?"

After they'd made love the day before, they'd slept cuddled up together, close and intimate. But when they'd woken, things had changed.

He could sense she'd pulled away from him. Like she'd let him get too close, let her guard down. The rails were back up. They ate in the restaurant at the hotel, that evening the conversation somehow stilted for the first time. There were no incidents and they weren't asked to leave.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened or what they'd said to each other.

She'd half come on to him in the hotel room but he'd said he was tired and needed a rest. She didn't object. They had sex in the morning but it was oddly mechanical. It almost reminded him of sex with Sarah. He was starting to worry he was losing her, if he hadn't already.

And now she wanted to go to a strip club. But who was he to object?

"Come on," she said, "Get your phone out. Let's find a good one."

"Why don't you have a phone?" he asked, realising he'd never once seen her use one.

"I do have one. But the contract ran out. Come on, give me yours."

So they sat side by side on a little wooden bench surrounded by masterpieces from the Belle Epoque and looked up strip clubs in Paris.

Staci seemed much happier once she's found one she liked. Something in her seemed to relax.

He felt an odd tenderness towards her, this strange girl who could only feel good when she felt horny. It made him feel protective. He wanted her to feel safe with him again but he knew he couldn't force it.

They spent the rest of the day like stupid tourists, they even went up the Eiffel Tower. There was a slight edge still between them, but only slight.

Eventually, it was time to hit the club Staci had chosen. It was an upscale establishment and although it was mostly men, there were a few couples there. The bouncer nodded appreciatively to them as they went in. Carl tried not to wince at the cost of entry.

A pretty redhead in a black and red basque introduced herself in French as Claudi. Carl wasn't really sure what she was saying but it didn't matter. They followed her to a table where she took their drink orders, effortlessly switching to English when she realised they didn't speak French. Vodka and tonic for Staci, whisky for Carl.

"This place is so cool isn't it?"

Staci was looking around, her eyes gleaming with excitement. There were dozens of tables surrounding a stage, but with lots of partitions, so it was hard to see the other patrons.

Cool, deep, throbbing house music pulsed through the club, sensual and insistent.

Despite the partitions Carl could see that there was at least one girl, maybe two, at most tables, all just wearing lingerie.

There were more girls in matching black and red basques wandering around carrying drinks. Carl guessed they must be the waitresses.

All the women were gorgeous and very scantily clad and, despite himself, Carl couldn't help staring. He shouldn't have worried though because Staci was staring too.

"God, look at her arse, Carl," she indicated a hot blonde in a black g string who'd just walked by. Carl felt self conscious but definitely turned on.

He looked at the stage. A sultry brunette with small perky tits was dancing topless.

"Do you like it?" he asked Staci.

"Yeah, it's fucking great, isn't it? This was such a good idea."

"You really like it?"

"Oh yeah. These girls are so hot. It makes me so wet."

Claudi came back with their drinks. Then a tall blonde with big boobs in black lace bra and stockings and suspenders sat down at their table.

"Alors, vous passez une bonne soirée?"

Carl and Staci looked at each other, not understanding.

"You guys English?" she repeated in an American accent.

Staci nodded.

"Good, that makes it easier. So, mind if I join you?"

Carl wasn't good with accents but she guessed she was from the South, Louisiana. Mississippi. Somewhere like that. Her voice was soft and warm and comforting.

"Oh no, we'd love it," said Staci, leaning forward to look at her. "You know you've got really great tits."

"Oh thank you," said the woman, thrusting them out and giving them a little shake. They really were great tits, large and round nestled juicily in her black lace bra, deep cleavage proudly on display.

"I'm Chantelle."

"Hi, I'm Staci. This is Carl."

"Hi," said Carl weakly.

"So, do you guys want a dance?"

"Yes, please," said Staci eagerly.

"Mmm, great. I'm going to enjoy dancing for you two, I can tell. I can dance here or we could go to a back room, get a little more ... comfortable."

Staci reached under the table to rub the hard lump at Carl's crotch.

"I think we'd like to be comfortable wouldn't we Carl?"

Carl just nodded.

"Great. Come with me."

Chantelle stood up and led them into a small private booth. Carl and Staci sat side by side while Chantelle faced them.

She started to move her body. She was smooth and toned. Fit. A dancer's body. She put her arms above her head and swayed her hips and bust to the pulsing insistent beat throbbing through the club.

"My God, you're so hot," Staci was practically shouting at her to be heard over the music. Chantelle just smiled back.

She bent over to show them her tight, round arse, her tiny panties riding up her crack. Then she turned and undid her bra. Her huge boobs barely moved as she removed their support. Carl thought they were fake but wasn't sure he cared.

Chantelle leaned forward letting her boobs swing down then she rubbed them first in Staci's face and then in Carl's. Then she turned around again and bent over to show off her smooth buttocks again.

This time though, she put her thumbs in her panties and peeled them off her, exposing her ripe little pussy to them. She was waxed and wet and so very fuckable.

She turned again to face them. She approached Staci and started to lift one leg to straddle her, but Staci shook her head.

"I want you to dance for him."

Chantelle smiled and nodded and approached Carl. She put her arms around his neck and straddled his lap, rubbing her tits in his face and humping his crotch.

Carl looked over at Staci. Her eyes were all over Chantelle's body and her hands were moving under her skirt.

"Fuck, yeah," she murmured.

Carl had only ever been to one strip club before. A mate's stag do, years ago. And he'd never had a private dance, so he didn't really know what to expect. He definitely didn't expect Chantelle to start touching herself as she bucked her hips on him. He could see how wet she was.

Staci could too and she moaned in appreciation.

Chantelle looked over at Staci and smiled at her, as both girls touched themselves.

"You like me dancing for your man, don't you?"

"Yes."

"It turns you on, doesn't it? Seeing him all hot and bothered and ..." Chantelle suddenly rubbed his crotch "hard. Very hard. While I rub my big tits in his face and touch my pussy for him."

"So much."

"You know.." she looked around. "I could let you two have the room, if you wanted it? If you were quick?"

Staci bit her lip.

"Oh, yes please."

"Be my guest."

Chantelle got off Carl and, picking up her bra and panties but not bothering to put them on, she left the room.

Staci pulled down Carl's jeans, freeing his huge throbbing erection. She opened her mouth and took him hard and deep, sucking and stroking him with a wild abandon until he pulsed and gratefully unleashed himself in her mouth.

"Mmm," she said, licking her lips. "That was so fucking hot."

When they got back to the main room and made their way to the main room, the girl dancing topless on stage had gone.

In her place a woman with a jet black bob cut was on all fours, naked apart from shiny leather boots, her huge boobs hanging down as a well muscled guy in a cowboy hat fucked her from behind.

"My God," said Staci. Even she seemed a bit shocked at how full on it was.

The blow job and the whisky had loosened Carl up and he just sat back and watched the couple fucking, feeling himself getting turned on again. The woman was beautiful and he liked the way her tits swayed as the man fucked her.

He turned over to grin at Staci but was surprised to see her scowling back at him.

"Enjoying yourself, Carl?"

"I, err, umm."

"I want to go back now."

"Oh. OK."

Not sure what had happened, he got their things, paid up and left. They got a cab back to the hotel and barely spoke all the way. Staci just stared moodily out of the window.

When they were back in the hotel room, she suddenly turned on him, her eyes full of fury.

"Did you like that Carl? Did it take you back to your swinging days? Watching another couple at it?"

"What the.. What the fuck? That was your idea, Staci."

"I didn't know you were going to be such a creep about it."

"No, hang on Staci," he could feel himself starting to lose his cool. She was being so unreasonable.

"I bet you liked watching your wife get fucked too, didn't you? Too chickenshit to fuck her yourself. Not man enough."

"Not man enough?" He was on his feet now standing over her.

"Yeah, Carl. A real man fucks. He doesn't watch other people fuck."

"A real man fucks does he?" He'd pushed her up against the wall.

"Yes, Carl. He does."

"Like this?" He pushed her panties down and forced himself into her, feeling how wet she was for him.

"Yes Carl," she moaned, "Just like that."

He fucked her hard against the wall, grabbing her by the arse so she could wrap her legs around him.

"Harder, Carl. Show me how a real man fucks."

He fucked her harder. His rock hard length pounding her hot little greedy cunt relentlessly.

"Oh yes, Carl. Give it to me. Give it to me. Make me come. Harder."

He was shaking and sweating as hammered into her, feeling her tense and pulse and come on his big dick as he pumped his hot load inside her.

They collapsed on the bed together. She put her arms around him.

"I love it when you fuck me so hard like that Carl."

He looked up at the ceiling. He felt like he was as square one again. Whatever intimacy they had achieved the day before was gone. Still, it was probably for the best. It would be better if he didn't fall in love with her. Nothing good could come from loving such a crazy, unstable, emotionally closed off nymphromaniac.

"I love how you fuck me Carl," she practically purred at him, nuzzling against his neck. "You make me feel like.. feel like.. such a woman, you know."

Definitely a bad idea to fall in love with her. But it was a bit late to worry about that.

to be continued...