Sex partner Porto-Vecchio

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Niko saw her for the first time sitting on a beach at the southeastern side of Corsica along the coast of Porto-Vecchio. She was not alone. The girl had an entourage of half a dozen admirers begging for her attention. It was easy to see why. She was young and beautiful, beguiling, and seductive. The odds were against it but then, Niko, like a lotto player, was hoping to beat the odds. It was at the third bar and after three or four drinks that lady luck walked in the door. She was with a man that might have been her father or a prime minister, worldly, refined, and self-assured.

After all, this was France. She was much taller than he had imagined and fully tanned by the Mediterranean sun as she floated across the room. Niko searched his vocabulary for words to describe her, sensuous, sultry, and seductive? She was all three. Niko tried not to stare as he sipped a red Boudreaux while ignoring a business question that his friend had raised. Marilyn Monroe was no match for this girl. Niko was spending the summer in France along with a colleague from Jehl Innovations, an electrical firm hoping to expand in Europe. He was a distant relative of Francis Jehl who had worked with Thomas Edison and Niko had earned a degree in electrical engineering ing the firm five years earlier.

It fit that Niko was named after Nikola Tesla. I asked you if you thought a merger with TDR would be better than building factories of our own. Their offer is incredibly generous. Our technology is years ahead of the competition. Our solar battery is revolutionary and will totally change EVs and the automotive industry. Are you coming? She passed within a few feet of Niko allowing him a sniff of her exotic perfume.

Niko noticed that she had dropped a matchbook on the way past his table. Printed on the cover was "La Barre" the name of the wine bistro that was left at every table. For no apparent reason other than as a souvenir, Niko picked it up and set it on the table while finishing the last of the wine. Now he was curious. He opened the flap where something had been written. What was Niko to think? Was this a careless accident or done on purpose? The only way to find out was to dial the .

A recorded message in French gave him no clues. George was fluent in French and could translate the short message back at the hotel. Half in a trot but more in a race to the hotel, Niko hurried to the adjacent room where George was staying. The two rooms were connected by a common door which Niko used without thinking.

He should have knocked. George was not alone. Niko could tell that George was on the edge by his growls and grunts finishing only moments later. Ten minutes later, the three of them toasted Bastille Day. Niko figured that the phone message might be about tomorrow, a major French holiday like the Fourth of July. Take her back to your room.

After a second glass of Scotch, Niko was back in his room with the whore. After a short argument, they got along well, starting with the missionary position, followed by doggie then cowgirl. He erupted with an incredible ejaculation filling the condom. It was the release Niko needed after being away from his wife for three stressful weeks.

The morning came early, and the girl was gone. George came into the room asking about the girl. She must have left when I fell asleep. Niko dialed the and George listened. Where did you get the ? Niko showed George the matchbox and told him about the girl who dropped it. He thought they should go. If not both of them, Niko said he would go alone.

Their tuxedos were set out to be pressed and by seven that evening, George and Niko looked like movie stars at the Oscars. The Concierge had a taxi ready half an hour after they knocked down a couple of drinks at the bar. The drive along the coast was almost an hour ending at a chateau lit up like a Christmas tree.

A few people were smoking outside, others mingled inside drinking Champagne. The men were greeted at the door by a girl dressed in a seductive French maid outfit. They were given discrete name tags and were asked to write their names. Most of the guests were young, under forty, with more women than men. Brigitte was hard to miss. She was a diamond among pebbles. All the others were merely pretty girls in comparison. You know we stormed the Bastille two hundred thirty years ago. She is in Paris with family for the week. Please enjoy the evening. We will have fireworks soon. It is best to watch them with a glass of Champagne.

Brigitte, please show our guests the Champagne bar. The Champagne fountain was meant for show. Brigitte left them to work the crowd. Meanwhile, George and Niko worked the buffet. Later, and after more Champagne, a bell rang from outside calling everyone to watch the fireworks.

More food and wine were set up on the beach while offshore in the Mediterranean, there were several barges. The Count encouraged everyone to fill their glasses for a toast. The fireworks from the barges were awesome and accompanied by dramatic music fitting the fireworks display. After the climactic finale, everyone sighed as if there was nothing left in life. George was the kind of guy that was capable of fending for himself.

The crowd began to thin out when Brigitte and Niko strolled along the beach. It was falling apart. Before Niko could answer, she had slipped her shoulder straps off and let the dress fall on the sand. As Brigitte slowly drifted into the water, it was if Niko was Odysseus hearing enchanting sirens enticing him into the Tyrrhenian Sea. Moments later, he was by her side. Their first kiss was deep and long, so passionate that it made Aphrodite, the goddess of love, blush.

The tranquil waves set a romantic mood while they explored every delicate part of each other's bodies. Neither could resist what was to come next. Brigitte sat on an egg-shaped boulder with her legs slightly parted giving Niko a tantalizing view meant to encourage him. He had been wearing an uncompromised erection ever since their first kiss. It was solid manhood, as firm and straight as a lance. Niko knelt between her legs spreading them further, so his head had access to her swollen pussy lips.

Her salty taste was not from the sea alone. Brigitte was wet from top to bottom, from outside to inside. Niko devoured her juicy arousal. Gobs of cum dripped then gushed from her slit staining the rock. It was almost dawn when they reached the chateau. Brigitte changed clothes, packed a handbag, and called the chauffeur. The chauffeur took a shortcut shaving fifteen minutes off the drive. It should be ready by the time we get there.

Niko sent him a text telling him that he would be busy all day and something had come up, so he was going to stay a while longer. George texted back saying that was fine. He said he was staying with a friend and would be checking out of the hotel that afternoon, then head to Marseilles for a meeting with TDR Industries. The yacht was moored a quarter-hour walk from the hotel. It was a small hotel complete with two bedrooms, a living room, dining room, full kitchen, and much more. They were greeted by Captain Chevalier and a crew of others including a chef and two deckhands.

After sailing out of the marina for a half-hour, Brigitte slipped off her bikini preferring to get an all-over tan. Niko preferred to leave on his suit although it didn't disguise his uncontrolled erection. Brigitte had her mobile phone and took a few pictures of him with the captain. Niko took some of her nude body and had her send all their photos to his . Brigitte was proficient with her smartphone. Two clicks and they were his. Over sips of wine, they talked a little about themselves. Niko said he married his high school sweetheart after college.

You were so handsome and so lonely. For me, it was like Cupid's arrow had struck deep into my heart. She asked Niko why he was in France. He told her his company was looking to build factories in Europe or possibly a merger for a revolutionary new battery the company had developed. Brigitte seemed curious about the new battery, so Niko went into a few details about the technology.

Sex partner Porto-Vecchio

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