Emma

To be honest, even I was getting rather annoyed with the pool repair company.

This was their fourth visit in two weeks, and I was starting to think it was deliberate. I’m not mechanically minded, but how difficult can it be to change a bloody filter? The excuses have ranged from the replacement. One is too big, then it was too small, then the wrong model and fuck knows what the reason is this time, perhaps the wrong colour! And Eddie is now blaming me.

He has a point. The first time they visited I just happened to be by the pool getting some sun and I was, perhaps, just a little tardy, or a tad slow to put something on. And when I did, it was only one of Eddie’s old T-shirts which I tend to use when I’m doing work around the house. To me, they fit perfectly. Baggy enough that my little breasts are not squashed but when I lean over, anyone in front of me can see the full picture, and long enough to cover my bottom, but only just. But, of course, not when I bend down.

The young lad, who happened to be lying on the side of the pool with his arm stuck down the filter compartment, must have had a lovely view as I strolled past, on more than one occasion.

Eddie told me to stay inside this time and I watched from the window as Eddie’s french, and his patience, was tested to the limit. And after another van arrived and yet further discussions, they left and Eddie marched back in looking angry.

“What a fucking useless bunch of cunts!” he said, and grabbed his phone. I don’t like that word, and Eddie very seldom uses it. He reserves it for the people he believes truly deserve it, like our local MP, or Boris Johnson, so clearly I understood where the pool repair men stood in his estimation.

He spent the next ten minutes or so on the phone and when he had finished; he had calmed down.

“Emma, my darling, there is another pool repair company coming here tomorrow afternoon.” He looked at me and I said nothing, just trying to look as sweet and innocent as I could. “So please don’t flash him or accidentally forget you aren’t wearing any knickers, or lean over him with your "thrupenny-bits" hanging out. Please.” I nodded, and he leant over and kissed me. “Thank you,” he said and he kissed me again.

When, the following afternoon, the gate buzzer buzzed, like they do, I was sensibly dressed. The van was new, and had a bright shinny sign saying something which included the word “piscine”, which even I know means swimming pool. As they parked up, I made myself scarce.

I was in the kitchen chopping tomatoes when Eddie walked in looking very happy.

“Sorted. Come and say hello,” and he grabbed a handful of beers from the fridge.

Eddie

Thank god for that, a tradesman who knows his stuff. My brother-in-law had called the other mob when he was here in early summer, so it cannot have been working properly since then. So, I was very pleased when Alain and Anton had arrived and sorted it.

Alain was in his late forties and, as soon as he arrived, he seemed on the ball, and it can’t have been more than ten minutes before he had found the problem and once Anton had gone off and returned with the replacement part, it was fixed. It was their last job of the day so when I suggested a beer, they had gratefully accepted.

Anton was Alain’s son. Whilst Alain’s English was very limited, Anton’s was very good and it turned out he was working with his dad for the summer, before returning to college in Paris, where he was in his final year of an engineering degree.

When Emma arrived, with a glass of Rose in her hand, I introduced them and the four of us had a lovely hour chatting about all sorts, Emma doing her very best to understand the French, and with Anton clearly enjoying Emma’s attention, as he did his best to translate for her.

What Emma has not pointed this out in her opening to this story is there was a very important event going on in France at this time. Whilst it might not have been high up in her reasons to be here in France, at this particular time of the year, it was very high on mine. It was the little matter of the Rugby World Cup.

Rugby is huge in this region of France and Alain and Anton, like most people in Provence, love the game. And, quite simply, the place was bouncing. And as a rugby man, it doesn’t get much better, even if England didn’t stand much chance.

“Where are you going to watch the games?” Alain asked, as they were about to leave. I explained that it would probably be here, as most bars would be heaving. “Come down to the rugby club, you and Emma. It will be busy, but it’s a great setup and the atmosphere will be lively.” That sounded perfect and after thanking them again, I left them to load the van.

I found Emma in the kitchen refilling her glass.

“You could have told me he was bloody gorgeous!”

“Who, Alain? He’s quite handsome, I suppose,” I said, chuckling to myself.

“You know bloody well who I mean! Anton,” and she gave me a cheeky smile.

“Emma, no. Too close to home, you know our rule.” She put on her disappointed face, bottom lip pouting slightly. “Anyway, he’s hardly going to look twice at you, is he? I mean, you’re old enough to be his granny?” I readied myself for a low-flying object, but instead, Emma just looked at me.

“Oh, I suppose I am. What was I thinking?” she said, as she slipped off her T-shirt and turned and walked out towards the pool. “I mean, how could anyone fancy me?” she added, as she reached behind her back and undid her bra, casually dropping it to the floor. “Good grief, they would need to be desperate,” she continued, as she undid her shorts and, pausing briefly, allowed them to slip to the floor, kicking them away. I followed a few steps behind and, as she glanced over her shoulder, she added, “who would want to fuck me?” and she pulled her panties down, and casually kicked them off too, “or kiss this?” and she put her hands on her cheeks and pulled them apart.

When she arrived at the large sun lounger, she slowly climbed on, her beautiful ass looking straight at me, and spread her legs, her hand appearing between them, her fingers slipping into her pussy. “God, they would need their heads seeing to, wouldn’t they?”

I think it was a matter of seconds before I was naked and on her, and she was giggling.

“Surely, you don’t want to fuck little old me, do you?” she laughed, and she reached down and told hold of my erection. “Oh, how on earth did that happen?” she said, sliding my cock between her pussy lips, and she wrapped her legs around my body as I slipped into her. “Oh, fuck, yes,” she said, her head rolling backwards, but suddenly she froze. “Shit.”

She was looking over towards the pool-house and I followed her gaze, just in time to see Anton walking quickly away, a tool bag in his hand, and his arm raised, as if in apology. Shit.

Emma

“Eddie, that wasn’t my fault, I wasn’t trying to flash him or anything like that.” We were lying in on the lounger, and my pussy was still tingling from my orgasm. Eddie’s penis was semi-hard and covered in that beautiful sauce of my juices and his cum, so I took him in my mouth and cleaned him up and then pulled myself up his body and kissed him.

“But you would like to fuck him, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, I would, but that is hardly a surprise, is it?” Of course, he agreed, and quite rightly so. Anton was fucking gorgeous. Besides being young and handsome, he was perhaps 6’4’’, lean and fit, and had the most beautiful brown eyes, and when he smiled, his whole face lit up.

“And you would like me to fuck him, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I think I would but it’s too close to home Emma.”

He was right. We have played by a certain set of rules since starting this life-style and so far, so good. And I know I am very lucky and I was not going to ruin what we have, just to fuck a certain young-man, no matter how fucking gorgeous he was.

“I agree. Shame though.” I cuddled into him and he kissed my forehead.

I was just settling down to snooze on him when suddenly Eddie whispered, “I suppose if he is off, back up north, to finish his degree, he’s not going to be around here, is he?” I quickly looked up and he was smiling at me, so I pulled myself back up his body and kissed him, deeply, lovingly, passionately.

“I love you.”

Eddie

It was Sunday and quarter-finals day. And what a day it promised to be. England would be playing in the first match and that would be followed by France, in the second match of the day. And whilst I did not hold out much hope on England, the France game looked a cracker-jack match against The Boks. I couldn’t wait.

We had lunch at home and then set off across town. The weather was still warm and so we stopped at a small bar we knew. The place was already filling up and the lovely owner was very excited to see us and we exchanged some banter about the rugby, all light-hearted and friendly. The town was draped in the French Tricolour, and even the old ladies gathered around the central fountain had flags with them.

I had been to the rugby club before to watch a match so I knew it was a good-sized club. And when we got there, it was busy but not too bad, but I knew it would be heaving later for the French game.

After a brief struggle to the bar, I returned to find Emma chatting to Alain, who seemed genuinely pleased that we had come to watch the rugby, and he soon introduced us to a number of people who were soon chatting away, some in very good English, which made it much easier for us, as I didn’t have to keep translating, or attempting to translate, for Emma.

With about ten minutes to kick off Emma and I found some seats on a long bench at the back of the clubhouse, where we could see one of the numerous screens and got ready to watch what I hoped would be an English win.

Emma

I love rugby clubs. I’ve been in hundreds and, with the exception of perhaps just a couple, they are fab places. They are full of big, strong and usually hard men, none of which pose any danger to the many, many women and children who are also plentiful in these safe places. And Eddie is completely at home there.

He describes the place as busy but not too bad. It was bloody packed, but he disappeared into the melee and returned with drinks in hand, in no time. And wasn’t he happy! I was already chatting to Alain and when Eddie appeared at my side, he was greeted in the French way and then introduce to several other people who were soon chatting away like long-lost friends.

Eddie’s mood changed slightly when we sat down to watch the England game. He gets anxious, and the omens were not good. However, we settled down and as the players walked out, in walked Anton. He was with a few other young men and he was greeted by a number of his friends and then Alain, and it was then that his dad pointed over to us and he waved and I waved back.

I tried not to look at him and to concentrate on the screen but I couldn’t help glancing his way but he had disappeared into the crowded room. Never mind, I thought and, as the game got underway. I, like Eddie, got engrossed in the action.

At half time I went off to the ladies and Eddie joined the queue to the bar but when I returned there was Eddie and the drinks plus Anton and a number of other young men, all chatting.

Anton greeted me in the proper French way and then introduced me to the others and we all sat down to watch the second half. The guys sat in front of us turned to face the screen whilst the others piled onto our side of the bench and I found myself with Eddie on one side and Anton on the other.

To be honest, the next two hours few past. It was fun, and after the England game, which we won, we all chatted and laughed, the lads all doing their best to speak English on my behalf. And the drinks flowed and when I insisted it was my round, they cheered as I had to lever myself out between Eddie and Anton and, as there was a wall behind us, I had to balance along the bench, using their thighs as stepping stones. The lads had simply climbed over the table but I was not going to do that. My dress was only thigh length and everyone would have been able to see, well, almost everything.

I took the opportunity to visit the ladies and when I got back, the place was even busier, as the French and South African teams came out to start their match. I squeezed back into my seat and began to settle down when I realised my dress had ridden up my legs, so I quickly reached under the table and adjusted it, and I felt Anton’s thigh on my hand.

“Oh sorry,” I said and smiled. He smiled back at me and I could see a sparkle in his eyes. Oh my, I thought.

Eddie

Bloody hell, it was hot in there. Emma was clearly enjoying herself, and I noticed she was chatting to Anton and he was clearly enjoying himself. But it was about half an hour later, I went off to the men’s and, as I was returning to the bar, Anton was heading the other way.

When I sat down Emma grabbed my hand and looked at me with her big brown eyes. They had that sparkle in them.

“Eddie,” she whispered, reaching up to speak into my ear, although there was no need to, given the noise in there. “I’m feeling hot.” I looked at her again. “Feel,” she said, and she took my hand below the table and placed it on her thigh. “Go on, feel,” she said, so I moved my hand up to her panties. She was soaking.

Emma

It was hot in there. Well, that’s my excuse, and being squashed between two very handsome and horny men, did not help. So, when I reached below the table and fanned my dress, I left the helm high up on my thigh and, with both arms now on the table, I allowed my right leg to rest against Anton’s thigh and I felt him jump, just very slightly.

I felt the hair on his legs against my skin and after a few minutes, I rubbed my thigh against his and this time he responded, returning the gesture. After a few minutes of this mutual thigh rubbing, I decided to move things forward.

As casually as I could I reached under the table and, pretending to adjust my dress, I put my hand on his thigh and gently stroked him. I felt his muscle contract but then relax and I gradually, and softly, ran my fingernails up under the leg of the shorts. And, as I removed my hand and put it back on the table, I managed to brush his hand, as I reached to pick up my glass.

It seemed an age, but was probably only a few minutes, until Anton moved slightly and his hand went under the table. I reached for my glass again and, as I raised it to my mouth, I felt his hand on my thigh. He squeezed it gently and began to stroke my skin and then it was my turn to jump, just slightly, as his hand went onto my inner thigh.

I did my best to act as if nothing was happening as he continued to stroke me, his fingers now only inches from my panties. Oh please, I thought, please.

Suddenly, he stopped as the lad next to him got up and began to extract himself from the bench and I took the opportunity to look him straight in the eye and I smiled, and he smiled back.

The lad managed to climb over the table, but not without upsetting a few glasses, which caused some quick movement of those within splashing distance, and Anton climbed over after him, apologising but he needed to use the little boy’s room. I bet he did!

“Eddie, I’m hot.” He looked at me and smiled.

“Are you OK?” I nodded as I looked at him and he smiled again.

“I’m very hot, Eddie,” I said. “I’m serious, feel,” and I took his hand and placed it on my other thigh. He stroked my skin and, as I still had hold of his wrist, I moved his hand up so his fingers were touching my knickers.

“See, I told you I was hot.” He smiled again, and leant over and kissed me, just a quick peck on the lips, just as Anton appeared in front of us. I hope he saw me kissing Eddie, I thought. He clambered over the table just as his friend returned carrying numerous beers, most skilfully I might add, and settled down next to me again. Please, Anton, feel me.

Eddie’s hand was still on my thigh, so I pressed my right leg against Anton’s thigh and I was so excited when his left hand disappeared under the table and onto my leg. This time his stroking was more confident, running his fingers up my inner thigh, and I moved my hips forward slightly as he did so, inviting him higher.

Eddie’s hand was still stroking my left leg, so I quickly turned to him.

“Eddie,” I said quietly, “help him, please.”

I had both hands on the table, my legs apart and two lovely men stroking my thighs, and when I felt Eddie’s fingers on my knickers, I shuddered in anticipation. I thought he would just pull them to one side, but oh no. Suddenly, he started to pull them down.

Anton seemed to freeze but I quickly shuffled my bottom and using my right hand I helped my husband pull down my knickers and, as nonchalant as could be, Eddie reached down between my legs, picked them up and put them in his pocket.

I quickly looked around. Everyone was looking at the screens and there was nobody behind us so I took Anton’s left hand and put it back on my thigh. He quickly looked at me and I smiled and this time his fingers took no time to find my soaking wet pussy.

OK fuck. At first, he gently felt around my lips, but when he pressed, I felt my lips slip open as he inserted his finger. Fuck, I thought I would orgasm there and then, and as he worked his finger in and out, he rubbed my clit, which was hard and erect.

Eddie

It’s a strange feeling, sitting next to your wife, whilst she is being fingered by another man. My hand was still on her thigh and once or twice Anton’s hand brushed mine, as he slipped his fingers into her. And Emma was obviously loving it, as I could feel her body jerk and shake, and she had trouble holding her drink, when she did try to have a sip.

An injury of the pitch seemed to be the signal for a number of the people to nip to the toilet, which disturbed Emma’s fun, and after taking another sip, this time without spilling it, she took the opportunity to go herself.

Anton followed her with his eyes and after a few minutes, as the game restarted, and the noise resumed, Anton climbed over the table and went out towards the toilets. And I tried to concentrate on the rugby.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later Emma appeared at the table and, after carefully climbing over and sitting down next to me, she squeezed my hand. I turned to look at her and she smiled, a lovely luscious smile, her eyes twinkling and she raised her head so I could kiss her.

“Take me home, please Eddie,” she whispered. “I need you to fuck me.”

Emma

I knew he would follow me. I hoped he would and when I came out of the ladies', he was waiting nearby, pretending to be on the phone but as soon as he saw me, he put it away.

He was standing by an exit and I stepped past him and into the refreshing night air, and he followed me. There were a few people looking through the main windows into the bar, obviously having a smoke, so I walked a few yards the other way, out of the lights, and stopped. And Anton didn’t waste time.

I was leaning against the wall and he leant over me and kissed me, and within in a few seconds, his hands were under my dress and his fingers in my pussy. Fuck, it was horny but there were people too close by so I pushed him away.

“Pas ici,” I said. He took my hand, and we walked around the corner and across a path to an outbuilding. It was pitch black, but he led me around the side and into what must have been a lean-to.

He began to kiss me again and his fingers were soon back in my pussy, but I needed to speed things up, so I pushed his hands away and grabbed his crotch. I could feel that his young cock was rock hard, so I unbuttoned his shorts and tugged them down.

Oh my! When I had squeezed his crotch, I had wondered if that was all him, but when I pulled his shorts down, his cock had sprung up and hit my arm. Fucking hell!

Now, I know this is something I should not be proud of but, over the last ten years, I have seen, held, sucked and been fucked by many, many cocks, but this was something else. OK, I could not see it, and perhaps that enhanced the experience, but fucking hell, his cock was massive.

I had hold of him in one hand, but could feel his erection high on my forearm. And wasn’t he hard! Fuck, I thought, to be young again, so I just turned around and lifted my dress, bent over and pressed his cock against my pussy. I felt myself open and he pushed and although I was soaking, I felt the pressure of his cock against my labia, and slowly my pussy opened and after a few more thrusts, he slipped in.

Oh, how I love that first penetration and I let out a long soft groan as he grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him. It was utterly wonderful and it was only a few minutes before he was pounding me, my upper body lying on some type of padding which, to be honest, stank of stale sweat. But, to be honest, I was past worrying about anything by then.  

As he picked up pace, I found myself being lifted off my feet until suddenly I felt him put his hands under my thighs and with me impaled on his rock hard cock, he picked me up, my feet off the floor. And with my dress completely covering my head, he fucked me for all he was worth until he shot his load into me, grunting as he did so.

I waited until his cock slipped out of me, and he then lowered me onto my feet. I slowly straightened up, my dress falling back into place, and, with his cum dribbling down my legs, I quickly kissed him and then walked back to the club-house.  After checking my make-up in the ladies', and wiping my legs, I re-joined Eddie at the table.

Our walk home took longer than it should have, as we had several unscheduled stops in shadows, but each time we were interrupted by passers-by. Each time Eddie's fingers explored my dripping pussy and once I even managed to press his cock into my pussy, just briefly, before a couple of people walked past us.

As soon as we got home, Eddie fucked me on the kitchen table, as I told him all about it and when I orgasmed, my first orgasm of the night, I yelped with pleasure, grinding myself into him. And when he carried me upstairs, I was still impaled on his erection, my legs wrapped around his waist.

My second orgasm was much more intense. I was describing how hard Anton’s cock had been when I had pulled down his shorts and Eddie orgasmed just before me, but I continued to ride him and he grunted and squirmed beneath me, as his hands gripping my breasts tightly and with my nails digging into his chest.

We fell asleep like that, with me lying on top of him, but when I woke, I was on my own, the sheet neatly placed over my body, and it was only a few minutes before Eddie appeared at the door, with coffee and pastries for breakfast.

“Who actually won?”

Eddie looked at me, obviously bewildered by my ignorance. “The Boks. France are out. Didn’t you wonder why everyone was so subdued? A few of them were actually crying.” To be honest, I hadn’t noticed. “Everyone was absolutely gutted.”

“Not everybody, Eddie,” I replied. “If I remember correctly, a certain young-man seemed very happy.”