A Paris Affair by Adelaide Cole Read Free Book Online

that a lovely hotel makes you feel like you don’t have a care in the world?” she said to him as they entered his room.
    He drew her to him, and they fell on the bed together, their kisses a tango of tongues and eager lips. They shed each other’s clothes, undoing buttons and zippers and unpeeling layers until they were naked and rolling together over crisp, white hotel linens.
    He urged her head to his cock. After years spent making love to the same man, she wondered what Oscar liked. She licked the soft, purple head and heard him gasp. He held it at the base and moaned as she tongued its length. He stroked her hair while she pumped him with her wet mouth. It made her feel young and sexy and dirty, and she loved it.
    She felt liberated from the dead air of her sex life. She pumped his cock and sucked hard. He gasped and groaned, shooting his white cum over her and the bed. He dropped onto the big pillows and exhaled deeply, exhausted. “Oh, baby,” he said, lifting her to him to kiss her deeply. Their tongues collided passionately, and she felt a rush of not just her carnal high, but of happiness with this man and this moment.
    Then he slid down her. His fingers parted the soft lips of her pussy and he carefully stroked her hard fuchsia clit with his tongue. It was confident and sure, not tentative like Philippe’s. She cried out, and Oscar stroked it back the other way. He let his tongue travel outside and inside the plump, engorged lips of her vulva, and finally was too excited to continue. “I have to fuck you now ,” he growled, and mounted her in an instant like an animal. He drove his thick, rigid sex into her and they both panted like primal beasts. His hands were all over her hot flesh. She came with a cry, and he grunted, pushing himself into her harder and harder until he was empty.
    They came apart, wet and sticky with sweat and cum. With his eyes closed, he left a hand roaming her skin, over her breasts and nipples. Finally, he turned toward her and kissed her. “A shower and room service? I’m famished again.”

    While Oscar showered, she wandered the hotel room, then stood at the window to watch the view. He came out in a thick hotel robe. “Your turn, my dear. What would you like?” he asked, picking up the room service menu. “I’m going to order a steak sandwich.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll have what you’re having. And a glass of wine would be nice.”
    In the shower, among the little luxury hotel soaps and shampoos, Valérie looked forward to staying the night. The hotel made her feel as if her own world were truly on the other side of the globe, and with it her life of wife and mother. She showered a long time, running the hot water over herself like a summer rain. When she finally came out, body and hair swathed in thick, white hotel towels, the food had already arrived.
    “I didn’t want to bother you in the shower. I hope it’s not rude that I started without you.”
    Valérie laughed. “You’re kidding. Nothing could bother me right now. Restaurants, room service…” Then she lowered her voice, adding, “Making love with you…what could bother me now?” They toasted to the fun they were having together, ate and relaxed. Valérie stayed the night with him, made love and slept in the fantasy comforts of his hotel.
    That night her dreams featured a whirlwind of movement. She dreamed of museums and taxis, and a place that looked like the Italian coastline where she’d once spent a week with a boyfriend when she was young. Always moving, never stopping, and making love in hotel rooms with open shutters that let in the summer air.
    The next morning she and Oscar ate croissants and drank café au lait from room service. They sat in their plush white robes and looked at the newspaper together. “Well,” Oscar began, “I have one more day here. What would you like to do? See some monuments? Go to one of those huge flea markets? Walk through the Marais?”
    “A flea