Read a Taster of “FTIP 2 The Conclusion”

Chapter Three: Into The Unknown

After a very leisurely breakfast served to us on the aforementioned terrace in the warm Parisian sunshine it was time to shower and get ready for what lay ahead of me at midday. It was a struggle to take off the huge fluffy cotton robe, but the walk in wet room shower rapidly hit all the right spots. I was unsure as to what to wear, as I had no idea whatsoever what Yves had planned, so simplicity seemed the best way forward. I had not had a chance to go to the apartment so was limited in choice, so jeans, heels, and a light cashmere V-neck sweater in vivid yellow were chosen.
Paul had arranged to meet some old friends from the music industry for lunchtime drinks, so we left the hotel together, but with totally different agenda’s, I had an inkling mine may turn out to be a bit fruitier.
The concierge immediately walked me to the taxi that had been prearranged for me. I handed the driver Yves’s note with my destination, but he was obviously already briefed as he nodded and instantly drove off. I was still completely in the dark as to what to expect, but starting to get very excited, with an intense fizz starting to emanate through my body as I was being driven through the bustling streets. Within twenty minutes we were pulling up outside an elegant looking five-story townhouse on the Avenue Hoche, a stone’s throw from the ever frantic Arc de Triomphe and its world renowned round about.
The driver had been taken care of in advance, but I still slipped him a fifty euro note, extravagant, but excusable, as I was now approaching the plateau of my quick and instant mini climaxes, which over the years I’d learned to control, it was like second nature to me.
I climbed the steps to the large solid oak entrance and tentatively rang the buzzer whilst looking directly up into the security camera. Within seconds, a very attractive middle-aged lady, elegantly attired in a black trouser suit, opened it. She introduced herself as Inès and smiled as she saw what I was wearing and said, “you really don’t know why you’re here, do you? She lead me into the grand marbled foyer whilst telling me that the other lady guest had already arrived and that we would join her for a drink, where she’d then explain to both of us the etiquette of her new, but very much in demand “Club Privé”.
I followed her down the staircase to the basement area passing a room with large closed double doors, from which was emanating voices, laughter and the tell tale clinking of champagne flutes. There were several more doors and passageways until we eventually arrived at a wood panelled snug room where I was given a glass of Gosset Grand Rosé Champagne and introduced to Valérie, the other lady guest, who was here for her own special occasion.
Inès proceeded to explain about her little establishment, and what it catered for. The club was called “la langue ludique” which roughly translated meant the “playful tongue”. I was now totally captivated and intrigued, she had my full attention. The club was open four evenings a week and afternoons were reserved just for private bookings. The concept was as the name suggests a place for gentlemen who were connoisseurs of pleasing a lady with solely their tongues and for ladies who relished various gentlemen feasting on them. She explained that there would be no penetrative sex, and the gentlemen remained dressed at all times. Their sole purpose was to worship our womanhood and give pleasure to the lady. The men would then return home to their wives and mistresses, and according to Inès they then performed with a fervour that left their own partners gasping and totally satisfied. She told us there were ten gents waiting with eager and expertly talented tongues, and that they would pleasure us in turn, each being allotted ten minutes to show off their unique skills. Both Valérie and I grinned at each other, and she said, “I hope they have big appetites”.
We both followed Inès to our own individual pleasure rooms. Inside there was a small en suite bathroom complete with shower and bidet, enabling me to have a quick shower and check everything was in pristine order and ready to be presented to the “gourmands” who would shortly be taking care of me. The main room itself was very elegantly decorated with a small bar area to one side, and central to the room was a large winged leather recliner which had been subtly adapted to include padded supports for one’s legs, which were strategically placed higher than the arm rests, ensuring everything was open and fully accessible. Also to one side there was a padded massage table whose legs had been totally removed and it was set about eighteen inches off the floor on solid wooden supports. Strategically placed on a small table beside the chair rested a cut glass tumbler, small ice bucket, a bottle of Jack Daniels, and to my complete surprise a brand new bottle of my current popper of choice “Rush Extra Strength”. I had a good idea who’d arranged these little extra treats; attention to detail is always the key in these pre-arranged indulgences.
Having showered and moisturised my entire body with the gorgeous Chanel No.5 body velvet I slipped my heels back on, feeling totally decadent as I poured myself a snifter of JD and took a small hit of amyl before settling myself into the chair ready for my first visitor of the afternoon. The poppers began to wash through my body as I was positioning my legs comfortably in the supports, soon I began to feel that tell tale pre-climax heat taking over my body and my vagina begin to throb sensually, I adore this initial sensation. I love the feel when my labia start to swell and part as if they have a mind of their own and those first small rivulets of my juices start to flow out of me.
No sooner had I got comfortably positioned when there was a knock on the door and an elegant looking older gent entered, and introduced himself whilst his eyes appraised me, with a smile he walked over and swiftly knelt in front of me, taking a good minute to scrutinise my excited vagina. I started to tremble as he gently blew on me before beginning to tenderly circle my anus with his wondrously coarse tongue, probing, licking and flicking it with great finesse. The constant murmurings of approval from him encouraged me to allow myself a small, brief but powerful orgasm, much to his joy as a small jet of my ejaculate splashed onto his forehead. He was spurred on by this and upped his tempo taking each of my engorged labia into his mouth in turn, softly sucking and chewing on them. I was in ecstasy when he looked up into my eyes and pleaded with me to feed him. I didn’t need asking twice, I took a big hit of my poppers as I stared into his expectant eyes, within seconds a surge shuddered through my core unleashing a powerful torrent of my essence directly into his willing and very eager mouth. As he finished licking his lips and mopping his face with his handkerchief a discreet light flashed on and off signalling his allotted time was sadly at an end. With typical French courteousness he kissed the back of my hand and left the room. I knew I had two or three minutes to have a little sip of my drink and compose myself before the arrival of the next “gourmand” of the female sex.
The subsequent gent was a very attractive guy in his early forties with a very cheeky smile who didn’t waste any time in assuming his position, and began feasting on me like a man who’d not eaten for days, he was lapping and slurping on me so enthusiastically I just felt I should reward his endeavours with a full blown climax for him to drink, by now I was well into the theme of the afternoon and was flowing and squirting at will. It continued in the same theme until gent number five who simply wanted to admire my womanhood at close quarters whilst I pleasured myself with my fingers, he was very vocal and appreciative as I peeled back my clit hood, fully exposing it for his close inspection as I began to gently stroke it into his mouth, gripping it tenderly between thumb and forefinger like a tiny penis, gradually increasing the tempo until I let go a large potent climax, which gushed from me in a powerful arc, jetting over his head and making loud splashing sounds as it hit the marble floor. He gently applauded me and swiftly backed out of the room, smiling at me in appreciation of his time spent worshipping my yoni.
The time flew by, and my final aficionado of all things oral entered the room. He introduced himself and immediately went and laid prostrate on the low-level massage table. I followed his lead and went over to join him, standing above him with my legs either side of the table, allowing him a good view of what was shortly going to be his to devour. I began to lower myself slowly and teasingly until I was perfectly positioned, squatting an inch above his face offering him the choice of my anus or my fully gaped vagina to taste and suckle on. As I suspected his tongue worked skilfully on both, he was vocally encouraging me to open myself as wide as possible for him as I was flooding his mouth with my warm sweet ejaculate. He was valiantly struggling to swallow all of it with copious amounts running down his cheeks soaking the collar of his shirt. It was over all too soon, and both Valérie and I met up again in the Gentlemen’s room behind the large double doors for a social drink before our respective taxis arrived. I thanked Inès for a wonderful fun-filled erotic few hours and promised that I’d return in the very near future, which is exactly what I did. It was a truly wonderful way for a girl to spend a few hours in Paris.
Totally relaxed and chilled I returned to the hotel to enjoy a session in the spa in preparation for the evening’s main event!