It was just bad timing, Isabelle thought.  Any other time, he would have been just another attractive man.  He just had to walk into the gallery at a bad (or good, insisted part of her mind) time.  Martin, her fiancé, was away on a long trip, covering the meeting of G-8 Finance ministers in Tokyo and she was feeling the emptiness of her sex life rather acutely that afternoon.  She was appraising slides of Polynesian masks, with her office darkened and the ferocious features began to look rather erotic.  Try as she might, she could not will the feeling away.  She began to feel the heat in her loins and soon she was moist.

She was wearing a wrap-around black skirt, a garter belt and stockings, and a yellow bra and panties.  She had on a thin blue chiffon blouse and a black jacket that matched her skirt.  The jacket now hung on a peg by the door and her nipples began to harden against the soft silk of her bra.

She began to knead her breasts slowly, first through the blouse.  Then she unbuttoned the blouse, tugged it out of the waistband of her skirt, and pulled down the cups of her yellow bra. Her nipples were now rock hard and her breathing was shallow.  Her right hand spread her skirt apart and she began to knead her crotch, quickly wetting her panties.  She raised her bottom off her chair and hurriedly pulled the panties down.  Her long middle finger found her clitoris and she moaned softly.

At this point, her intercom buzzed.  She paused and hoped it would stop.  It buzzed again.  She stopped and pressed the 'receive' button. 

“Yes,” she said, failing to keep the irritated note out of her voice.

It was Sophie, her secretary. 

“There's a gentleman here.  He's interested in one of the Taylor landscapes that you appraised yesterday.”

She sighed. 

“OK,” she said.  Before she could say anything further, her door opened, and he stood there.  He shut the door behind him quietly.  She just sat there, transfixed.

Her blouse hung open and her magnificent breasts were bared, covered with a fine sheen of sweat.  Small droplets clung to her nipples.  Her skirt was open at the seam and rucked up almost to her waist.  Her garter straps and stocking tops were in plain sight.  She was still breathing heavily.

He deliberately took off his tie and jacket and advanced on her.

“Please give me a moment to get ready ..." she said weakly.

He did not appear to hear her.  He was attractive and in her present state, she was vulnerable.  He sank to his knees in front of her and buried his head in her crotch.  He was rough but amazingly adept.  His tongue raced around her thick nether lips and found her clitoris unerringly.  Within a minute she was gasping again, this time more quickly and sharply.  Wordless cries came from her mouth.  Within another minute, she began to come.  He slowed but did not stop.  She was arching her back and bucking as she came, but his grip on her thighs remained firm and his tongue did not lose contact.

It was a hard orgasm, much harder than she could have brought off herself with her fingers.  But he gave her just a few moments to luxuriate in the afterglow, just long enough to shed his trousers.  The next thing she knew, his hot musky breath was on her neck and she felt his hard manhood at her crotch.  He entered her without ceremony, not gently, but with a smooth thrust.  He was huge, thick as well as long, bigger than anyone she had had before.  His size meant that she was very tight on him and stripped back his foreskin effortlessly.  He was six inches into her with his first thrust, another two with his second, and entered her completely only with his third.

He began to piston her, with a hard, driving rhythm and now her cries were loud and unrestrained.  She began ascending to a second climax very quickly and just as she felt its contractions engulf her, she felt the flood of thick, hot, viscous semen shoot into her womb and fill her.  He kept pounding at her in short stabs for another minute before he slowed and stopped.  He withdrew gradually and she felt his thick cum slowly sliding down her thighs like lava.  Her fingers fluttered down, and she felt herself wet from belly to lower thigh.

His face rested between her full breasts.  Then he sat back on his haunches.

“You’re a great fuck,” he said.  “I’ll leave a cheque for the Taylor landscape with your secretary.  I’ll add five hundred to your quoted price – for services rendered.”

He held out his hand and she shook it gingerly.  She realized that she should be insulted, but her second orgasm had been one of the hardest she could remember, and her head was still spinning.

“I have an attached bathroom here,” she said.

“Thanks.  I’ll clean up before I go.”

She lay back and closed her eyes, slowly descending from her orgasmic high.  When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, he was gone.

* * * * *

“I am really looking forward to meeting your family, Martin,” said Isabelle, touching her fiance’s arm as he drove.

“You’ll love my mother,” Martin replied, as he swung his Mercedes Roadster around the bends in the twisting country lane with more power than skill.  “She’s a lovely person, beautiful, intelligent and full of grace.  Her family is one of the oldest in the country.”  He gestured out the window of the two-seater.  “We entered her family’s ancestral estate two kilometers ago and as far as the eye can see, everything around is theirs.  Her father is Reginald St James, chairman of the Foncault Group.”

Isabelle listened induglently as her fiance Martin chattered on about his mother, Carmen.  She had heard most of it before.  She already knew of Martin’s family wealth.  She had seen evidence of his large allowance – his small salary as a junior correspondent for a major news agency could begin to support his extravagant lifestyle in the city.

“I can’t wait to see your mother, she sounds delightful,” said Isabelle.  “And, the way you describe her, I am sure I will bond with your sister.  But what of your father?  You haven’t said a single word about him.”

Martin did not respond and Isabelle saw an obstinate expression come over his face.  She had asked him before and had yet to get anything out of him.

“I’ve told you before, he’s a bastard.  He’s often out of town on weekends, so I’m hoping you won’t have to meet him.”

The previous times, Isabelle had tactfully changed the subject, but this time she persevered.

“But why do you dislike him so much?  If we are to be married, I would like to know.”

Martin did not reply for several minutes.  When he finally spoke, his expression was set.

“He’s a lowlife sonofabitch,” he said.  “He met my mother as a freshman in college and forced himself on her.  He pursued her relentlessly to get his hands on her money.  He managed to get her pregnant and made her elope with him.  Now he cheats on her with every loose woman he can find.   After all these years, she’s still infatuated with him, but all the rest of us see right through him.  My grandfather especially hates him.  I hope you will have as little to do with him as possible.”

Martin gave Isabelle a sidelong glance, but was irritated to see her smiling.

“He sounds quite a man,” she said.

“Isabelle, you don’t know what you are talking about!” Martin exploded.  “During a a parent-teacher event at my school, he took one of the twenty-year-old student-teachers into a broom closet and fucked her!  Everybody heard them, including my mother.  That’s the kind of man he is.”

* * * * *

Carmen was as beautiful as Martin had described – a tall, blue-eyed blonde with horsey-doggy good looks who smiled easily, listened well and had Isabelle feeling at home within minutes.  Just a few minutes before dinner, she drew her son’s fiancee into her boudoir for a little ‘chat’.

“I am so pleased about your engagement,” Carmen said earnestly, “Martin is such a wonderful boy, I am sure that we agree.  I don’t know where he gets it from.  Certainly not from his father.”  She patted Isabelle’s hand.  “He is so sweet and trusting, he’s not one of these hard-charging, aggressive men.  He needs a woman who will appreciate his gentle qualities and almost mother him a bit.”

Isabelle, who had just had a quick but unsatisfactory afternoon romp with Martin in his bedroom upstairs, found that she could agree wholeheartedly.  Martin had hiked up her skirt and fucked her, but he got so exicted that he came just as she was beginning to get excited, leaving her frustrated.

“Why do you say that?” she asked carefully.

“Oh, I am sure that Martin has told you everything,” she said, only slightly nervous.  “Jack’s not a very faithful husband.  In fact, he’s probably one of the biggest philanderers in the world.”  She paused and sighed.  “We have a good arrangement.  He’s been a good father, always there to attend the childrens’ events and support me at home.  He works very hard and has run our companies very well.”  She sighed again.  “I won’t say that some of the young hussies don’t get to me sometimes.  One of Kelly’s Norwegian au pairs had the nerve to tell me that she would be generous to me after Jack divorced me.  It’s always awkward when we have company and he’s banging one of his mistresses in the summer house.  But you’re not interested in this….’  She trailed off.

“No, no,” she assured her, “I am always keen to learn about my new family.”  She leaned over and put her hand on Carmen’s thigh.  “You are very good.  My mother was not nearly as forgiving when my father had his affairs.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“But Jack is good to you as well?” Isabelle queried gently, “If all these women want him, he must have plenty to give?”

“Oh, once a week or so he rings my bell all right.”  Carmen giggled and Isabelle giggled with her.  They rose and walked down to the dining room hand in hand.

They went down when they heard the dinner bell.  The dinner table was set for five.  Carmen seated Martin and Isabelle on one side, herself with seventeen-year-old Kelly on the other, leaving the head of the table empty.

“Really, mother,” Martin said with a harsh note in his voice. “I don’t know why you insist on setting a place for that man.  You know he’s probably in a strip club somewhere.”

“Martin, you know I don’t like that sort of talk,” said Carmen sharply.

They were just about to sit down when Thomson, the butler entered.

“Ma’am,  Mr. Grierson is here,” he said.  “We will serve the soup as soon as he is seated.”

“Thank you, Thomson,” said Carmen.  “That is wonderful to hear.”

Jack came in almost on cue saying, “It was great to be home, – ”

He looked around the dining room, took in Isabelle and his smile froze on his face for an instant.  Before anyone could react, Isabelle came around very quickly with her hand out.

“I am Isabelle de la Roque,” she said, calmly.  “Martin’s fiancee.  I am delighted to meet you.”

Jack took her hand and shook it, leaned forward and they brushed cheeks, right, then left in the French manner.  Images of Isabelle bucking and crying out as she climaxed filled his head.  He had unknowingly fucked his son’s fiancee!  And she was standing here in front of him cool as a cucumber!  Isabelle was wearing a flowery knee-length dress, a pearl choker, white stockings and white open-toe high-heels – perfectly dressed for the part of the upper class, country bride.

“So happy to meet you, Miss de la Roque,” said Jack, regaining his composure.

“Call me Isabelle,” she said in her pretty French-tinged accent.  “We will soon be related, we mustn’t be formal.”

Jack seated himself and the soup was served.

* * * * *

After dinner, Jack said he would take a turn around the garden and Kelly stood saying she would accompany him. 

“I’d like to go over the guests that your father and I think we need to invite to your wedding, dear,” said Carmen to Martin.

“Yes, Isabelle and I will be happy to go over it with you right now,” he replied.

“I’m sure I will not have any objection to anyone you pick for the guest list, Martin,” said Isabelle.  “I think I’ll stretch my legs as well.  And I would love to see the gardens.”

Martin gave her a sharp glance that she pretended not to see.

She had on white stockings and out of sight, white thong panties and a white garter belt.  She was confident in her firmness and so had not put her bra back on after her afternoon romp with Martin.   She wondered if Carmen had noticed during their little chat before dinner.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that young Kelly had certainly noticed.

“I was wondering if you could explain the principle of double taxation to me, Jack,” Isabelle said.  “I’ve been reading the tax law and it makes no sense to me.”

“Certainly,” he said, “I’ll need some paper and a pencil.  Back in the house…”

“Don’t you have any in the summer house?”  she asked. “It’s right here.”

“Sure, I always have some there,” he said.

“Daddy, are you going to have some boring talk?”  Kelly demanded.

“Yes, sweets, I’m afraid so.”

“Then can I go over to the stables with Fiona?”  Fiona was the daughter of Henry, the black chauffeur. Kelly spent a lot of time with her, with Jack’s encouragement. Jack nodded and Kelly bounded off.

“In some ways, she seems awfully young and innocent,” observed Isabelle.  “When I was her age, I was definitely more worldly.”

“She’s been rather cloistered,” admitted Jack.  “She goes to a very strict girls’ school and they keep them on a pretty tight leash.  Carmen makes these decisions and I try not to interfere.”

Isabelle and Jack entered the summer house together. 

“I hear that you’re always banging your mistresses here,” Isabelle whispered.

“Who told you that?”  asked Jack, with a smile.  Then he went on more seriously.  “But I think we should let that thing in your office be a one-off.  It was just bad timing.  If I had known who you were, I would never have done it.”

“Wouldn’t you?”  she stopped and looked him straight in the eye.  “Do you think that I would go ahead with marrying Martin if it meant that I couldn’t have you?’

He hesitated.  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘You must know your son, Jack,” she said evenly. “He can be sweet, and sometimes even charming. But satisfying a woman in bed is not one of his strengths.”

“Why are you marrying him?”

“Your wife’s family is worth billions. My father has money, but nothing like that. Anyway, my father is very controlling and I want to have my own money. As well as my freedom.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“You have a lot of mistresses. I want to be one of them.”

“I don’t have mistresses,” said Jack. “I just have woman I fuck.”

“Then fuck me.”

Jack hesitated no longer.  He was a man of action, not words.  He undid his trousers and dropped them.  He was already half-tumescent.  He reached behind her and found the zipper of her dress.  It slid off her and pooled around her feet.  He stood back for a moment to admire her.  Just her pearl choker, white stockings, thong panties and white high-heels.  He picked her up and laid her on the long couch in the parlor of the summer house.  She lifted her rump and allowed him to strip her panties down.

He was on her in an instant.  What Martin had been unable to do through the whole act, Jack did on entry – he drew a gasp of pleasure from her.  And whilst she had not even been aroused in the afternoon, she felt as though she had a fever by the time that Jack had entered her completely.  She tried to muffle her cries, but within a few minutes she was rising to climax and all was forgotten.  She cried out hoarsely, and bucked and twisted as Jack kept pistoning into her.  She came.

He did not stop.  She was now soaking wet, but her cunt was still tight and hot on his huge dick.  She was begging him to take her now and then felt herself rising to another climax.  “Yes…..yes…..YES……YES!!…..YES!!!!……”  she was saying in a continuous litany that rose to a crescendo.  As she began to come again, he erupted, pumping hot, viscous semen into her through half a dozen pounding thrusts.

Back in the house, Carmen tapped her pencil and cocked her head to one side.  “Did you hear something, dear?” she asked.

‘No, what were you thinking of?” Martin said absently, ticking items on his list.

“It sounded like Kelly and Fiona screaming, as they do sometimes when they show each other their text messages.  You know how excitable they are, ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, …’ that sort of thing.”

“No, didn’t hear it, mother.  Your hearing’s always better than mine.”

In the summer house, Isabelle drew Jack’s head to her breasts.  He kneaded them and sucked on her nipples, keeping them hard.

“You have some of the most beautiful tits I have ever seen,” said Jack.

“I came harder than I can remember,” whispered Isabelle.

* * * * *

It was to be a long night for Isabelle.  After some brandy, Martin was very keen to retire.  “Very tired,” he said, yawning, “Very long day.”  He held out his hand.  “Coming, Isabelle?”

She smiled dutifully.  “Of course,” she said, rising.  They walked up the staircase, hand in hand. 

“Such a beautiful girl,” said Carmen to Jack after they were our of earshot, “I think she really loves Martin.”

“Yes, yes, beautiful …" Jack murmured.

On the landing, Martin’s arm went around her slender waist and Isabelle knew without a doubt what was on his mind.  She also knew that she had to get to the bathroom first.  Jack’s copious outpouring was still smeared over her crotch, lower belly and upper thighs.  Some had dried, but in the warmth of her cunt, it was still wet and viscous.  She had to douche.

“I’m going to freshen up a bit,” she said as they entered their bedroom.

“I’ll come and help you,” Martin said mischievously.

“No,” she said firmly.  “I need a little privacy.  Otherwise what will you have to look forward to after the wedding?”

She was happy to note Martin’s submissiveness.  Once in the attached bathroom, she quickly stripped off her panties and rinsed them in the sink.  Then she straddled the bidet and douched Jack out of her.  As his semen washed off, she could smell its strong musky scent and was surprised that no one had noticed it downstairs.  The smell went to her head and she knew wanted him again just then.  But Jack was not waiting outside, Martin was.  She sighed.

She slid out of her dress and stripped off her garter-belt and stockings.  Then, clad in just her pearl choker and white high-heels, she stepped into the bedroom.  Martin gasped.  “God, you’re sexy,” he breathed.

Martin had not been idle.  He was lying on the bed, naked.  He shorter than Jack and not as muscular, but he was not a bad figure of a man.  In spite of his hatred for his father, he owed his rather good looks to him.  But in manner he was completely the opposite of his father.  He was submissive and let her dominate.  This suited her sometimes, but most of the time, she wanted him to be assertive.  In bed, he groped and fumbled and grew too excited, too soon.  It was always the same.

She lay down next to him in the bed and he timidly began to fondle her magnificent breasts.  She closed her eyes and thought of Jack, his huge dick pistoning her on the couch.  Her nipples puckered and hardened.  Martin rolled on to her.  She reached down and found his hard cock.  She guided him to her.  She was moist from the douche.  His erection was of modest dimensions and he sank into her quickly.  He began thrusting into her jerkily, crying out as he did so.  He came almost immediately, in a small rush and pulled out of her.  He clutched her in his arms.  Then, after a short pause, he said, “I’m sorry I came so soon, dear.  But it was wonderful.  Was it good for you?”

“Wonderful,” she said seriously, without a hint of irony.  “Its always good when you love someone.”

He smiled happily and was asleep within a few minutes.  She lay awake for what seemed hours.  Finally, she made up her mind.  She slipped out of bed and drew on her baby-doll nightie from the night-stand.  She found her slippers and padded out of the bedroom, down the hall to the master suites.  She knew that Jack and Carmen had adjoining suites.  She went to Jack’s door and opened it a crack.  It was smooth and well-oiled and opened without sound.  She heard the sound of voices.  “Damn,” she thought, recognizing Carmen’s voice.  She put her eye to the crack.  The bedside lamp was on.

Jack was sitting up against the pillows and Carmen lay beside him, her back to the door.  They were both naked.  Jack’s manhood was rampant in Carmen’s hands.

“If you think I’m going to swallow that monster, you better think again,” Carmen was saying, coquettishly, “Get one of your young hussies to do that.”  She jacked his huge cock, drawing some weeping pre-ejaculate.  She massaged this into his foreskin, giving it a sheen.  Her hands were now shiny in the lamplight.

Still holding him with one hand, she straddled him with the expertise of long practice.  Her back was directly to Isabelle now and she marveled that this was Martin’s mother.  There was not a hint of fat on her.  The line of her back was straight and strong.  Her hips and buttocks were rounded and firm.  And unlike Martin’s timid approaches, she was decisive.  Jack was so long and thick that Isabelle was could see him between Carmen’s thighs, as she raised herself above him.  Holding him firmly, Carmen hovered above him and then, with a sigh that quickly turned to a moan, she impaled herself on him.  At first she only took in about four inches.  Steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders, she worked up a rhythm, taking in more and more of him, until she had engulfed him completely.  She quickly began bouncing on him now, and wordless cries came from her.

Finally, he began to arch his back and push into her.  Isabelle felt an ache in her cunt as she watched Jack thoroughly fuck his wife.  Carmen writhed on him and came once and then again after a prolonged bout of threshing, during which he roughly kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples.  Isabelle felt sure he would leave bruises. 

Isabelle’s cunt was now completely soaked and she was breathing heavily.  She could not watch any more.  To her ears, Carmen’s cries of passion sounded triumphant and they were too much for her to bear.  She silently shut the door and retreated to her own bedroom.  Martin was still fast asleep.  She stole into the attached bathroom again and locked the door.  Then she drew her trusty vibrator out of her toilet bag.  Switching it on, she quickly began to stimulate her clitoris.  She put a towel in her mouth to stifle her cries.  She closed her eyes and played out Carmen impaling herself on Jack’s huge manhood.  Within seconds she was biting down hard on the towel and grunting.  She pushed the vibrator into her cunt and pistoned herself savagely.  She immediately began to come.  The bathroom whirled around her and stars exploded in front of her eyes.

* * * * *

Isabelle tossed and turned and only fell asleep in the early morning hours.  Martin slept like a log and the bed was big enough that her restless stirrings did not wake him.  Finally, she could take it no longer.  She rose and went back to Jack’s door.  Opening it a crack again, she saw that it was dark, though the light of early dawn streamed into the room through an undraped window.  She could not believe her luck – Carmen was gone.

She entered swiftly and silently.  She shed her robe and pulled back the sheets with one motion.  Jack was still asleep when she fell on him, her mouth engulfing his sleeping cock.  She began sucking quickly, breathlessly and greedily.

Jack was awake in an instant, in more ways than one.  His manhood grew rapidly in her mouth and his hands sank into her hair, pistoning himself into her mouth.  He was huge and she had to arch her neck to deep throat him when he thrust and regiment her breathing to avoid choking.  Skilled as she was, she could only manage to swallow about two-thirds of his enormous length.

Soon, he released her and she crawled up on him, letting her firm breasts and hard nipples run along his belly and chest.  “I’m one of your young hussies,” she whispered, “I’ll give you head any time you want.”

Like Carmen earlier in the night, she raised herself, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders.  Then, as he guided his cock to her sopping vulva, she sank on to him with a groan.  He did not push into her, but let her bounce rapidly up and down, setting the tempo.  She was crying out now, and came in a gut-wrenching orgasm, and collapsed against him.

He pushed her back until she was on her back, still with him deep inside her.  Now he began to piston her, quickly working up to jackhammer pace, causing her to lose all semblence of control. 

“So deep,” she moaned. “So very deep! Mon dieu, merde!”

She was crying, begging, pleading for her release and then got it, ascending to another higher and wilder orgasm.  Her contractions were now so tight, that against his will, Jack exploded, pumping another load of semen into her in a series of spasmodic thrusts.

* * * * *

When she finally awoke, she was back with in Martin’s room and sunlight was streaming into the room.  The drapes and curtains had been opened.  Martin was gone.  She shook her head to clear it and found she had a dull headache.  When her glance fell on the bedside clock, she saw that it was nearly noon!

This would never do!  She knew that Carmen was planning a big pool-side brunch and had invited some neighbours over.  She quickly brushed her teeth and pulled on her floral bikini.  She inspected herself in the long bathroom mirror.  The hip straps were very high cut and the brassiere was strapless and only just covered her dark red aureoles.  Her thick nipples constantly threatened to escape.  She usually wore this suit when she planned to go topless, so it did not matter.  Today however,......  No pool games, she thought.

She put on some Roman-thong slippers with block heels and perched her sunglasses in her hair.  She draped a towel around her shoulders and descended the stairs.  The first person she met was Carmen.  She looked radiant, her blonde hair gleaming, her skin virtually flawless.  She wore a yellow one-piece swimsuit with blue flashes on it.  It had a low cut front and Isabelle thought she could edges of bruises on her breasts.  Jack must have mauled her nipples last night, she thought. 

Carmen hastened to Isabelle and took her hand.  “How are you, dear?”  she asked, “Martin said that you did not sleep very well.  I slept like a log!”  She giggled.

That's because Jack was fucking your brains out, while I had Martin who came before I knew he was in me, she thought nastily.  But don’t worry, I slept late because your husband fucked my brains out, too.

“Oh, I'm fine, Carmen,” she said.  “Really looking forward to the brunch.”  She gave her a hug and let her hands stray down from her bare back to her rounded buttocks, which she gave a tight squeeze, while letting her full breasts rub against Carmen's.  Carmen drew her breath in sharply, but before she could say anything, Isabelle had released her and gone out to the pool-side.

Her quick feel satisfied her.  Carmen was in fine shape - muscled and firm.  No wonder Jack still rang her bell when she came to him.

* * * * *