I felt like a million bucks walking down the tiny winding road towards the village. It's early morning, dressed in shorts, a polo shirt, sunglasses and a pair of beach sandals. Tired from the drive, but full of energy. 

The road is only wide enough for one car, surrounded by wild-grown bushes and old trees that form a canopy overhead. Lush green and dark. Almost like a tunnel of vegetation. 

I arrived a few hours earlier, at five in the morning. Sixteen hours of driving, motorways, cities, rush rush rush. But now I'm here — my favorite getaway place, a small village in Normandy, France. 

I rent a studio from the old gentleman that owns the massive mansion. He is a retired dentist that lives in Paris for most of the year, and this is his summer house. He must have been one hell of a dentist to be able to afford all this. 

A couple of years ago, we rented this place one summer for a family holiday, and ever since then, when I need to get away from it all, I call him and ask if I can rent a few days. 

He always says yes, as long as I leave the kids at home, bring my golf clubs, and some excellent wine as payment. 

I love his company; his English is as bad as my french. But playing golf, sitting by the pool, and sharing a bottle of wine, one can make do with any language. This time though, I have the place to myself. He is off on a trip with his wife or mistress, or new mistress; I didn't understand when he told me, but he sounded happy. 

As I enter the bakery, the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries hits my nostrils, and I inhale deeply. The bakery is small and intimate. It's part of my morning ritual when I'm here to walk down the hill, order a coffee, sit down on the scruffy old chairs outside and look at people going about their business. 

The bakery is right next door to the centuries-old church, and the village square, complete with a fountain, everything that happens in the village happens here. The only hotel is across the street — the postal office, news kiosk, and restaurant next to that. 

The lady in front of me picks up her baguette and leaves with a very french Au Revoir. 

"Bonjour Madame," I say before I realize that it's not the baker's wife standing there. Every time I have been here, the same old lady has been behind the counter — a kind, smiling lady that can not utter a single English word.

"Bonjour Monsieur," The girl giggles back at me. 

A petit sweet smiling girl is standing in front of me. Suntanned, green eyes, her hair tied up in a knot, wearing an apron dusty with flour. 

"Oh, sorry," I stutter, "Mademoiselle." correcting myself. I'm blushing a little bit. I hate being incorrect in France. So unconsciously I drop my french and turns to my trusted English. 

"Can I have a coffee and a croissant, please, miss. And I would like a baguette as well, to go" I add the to go, and immediately smash the palm of my hand in my forehead. Why would I say that - who would sit down to eat a whole baguette at a bakery. 

"Oui Monsieur," she giggles again. A bubbly exuberant laugh. "Do you want the coffee to go as well, or drink it here as you always do?". 

I look up, a bit confused. 

I have never seen this girl before. I would remember. She is adorable and charming, and her English is excellent. 

"Eh, yes, please. I mean, I want to drink it here." I say. What's the matter with me, all flustered, must be the long drive yesterday. 

"I will bring it out for you in a little bit, Monsieur." She hands over the change.

Outside, all the chairs are empty. I reach for my favorite one, the chair facing towards the square. But when I hear the giggles from back inside, I change my mind and take another one, facing into the bakery. That giggle is doing something to me. It's like it's pulling me in.

I can hear her talking to someone back there, a constant chatter, but the espresso-machine makes to much noise for me to pick up anything. 

She comes out, another girl with her. She holds the small coffee cup with both hands; it looks so odd. The other girl has a plate with a single croissant on it. They put it down on my table and again giggles, both of them this time.

"You are John, right?" the new girls say. 

"Yeees, how do you know that?" I'm perplexed.

"We watched your kids for you a few summers back, remember? When you wanted alone time with your wife. We took them with us when we tended to our horses." her eyes glitter when she says it. 

"Ahhh, I remember that." I blush again. It must have what, seven years ago. "Oh, and look at the pair of you, all grown up now. Are you still living here?" I ask, trying to act all casual. 

I remember very well how these teenage girls had sneaked back into the garden, leaving our kids with the stableboy, and hid in a bush while my wife and I had some fun in the cabana by the pool - we caught them — multiple times.  

We are still married, but we have grown apart. I love her, but she has her life, and I have mine. We share amazing memories but create very few new ones.

"Nah, we are only here for the summer. We both live in Paris now, going to uni there. But we help out at the bakery since aunt Juliette is sick. And that means that we can spend time with the horses for a few weeks." She trails off, pouting with her lips. "You don't remember our names, do you, John?" The new girl looks me straight in the eyes. "I'm Celeste, remember, and this is Lilou. We remember you, John." She giggles as well. They both are. "We saw when you arrived this morning when we walked to work, are you here alone?"

"Yes, only me," I answer. They are both so damn cute; I cannot take my eyes off them. Both are brunettes, Lilou's eyes are green while Celeste's are dark brown. Both of them work out, their bodies muscled and toned. I can not help myself from wondering if they are flirting a bit. That or they are making fun of me. 

"Well, if you are lonely, John, we have the day off tomorrow since it's Monday. And we are going riding in the hills; if you want to, you can join us." 

"I don't know how to ride." I stutter out. 

"We do John, and it's not a problem, you can sit behind us. We take turns riding you, John" The both giggle and push each other. "Think about it, John," Lilou says, not so shy anymore. "If you want to come, we will be in the stables by nine tomorrow morning, remember, just past the pool, then up the hill." They walk back into the bakery, leaving me with my cold shot of espresso and croissant. 

My head is overloaded as I sip the coffee. Were they flirting, I wonder to myself? It felt like it. But no, no, no. I'm twenty years older than them. Get that thought out of your head. But wow, they are so sexy. 

I can not stop thinking about them as I walk back up to the studio: their pointy breasts, slim figures, rounded asses — that giggle. 

I realize I never got my baguette, and smile a stupid smile - worth it. 

I am still feeling on top of the world. There is a bounce in my step, and I quickly reach the gate to the mansion. 

The lack of sleep last night makes me doze off by the pool in the afternoon. I brought a book, a chilled bottle of wine and some fruit, planning to stay here all day. I did a few laps in the water, but then I must have fallen asleep immediately after because the wine is still untouched. Lucky for me, I did remember to open the parasol, or I would have looked like a cooked lobster by know. 

A giggle. 

"John," more giggles, from the big bush by the far end of the pool. "Nine o clock John, and bring more clothes than that. And John, you are looking hard there!" Celeste's voice is loud and clear, full of laughter as they runoff. 

I'm stark naked. Omg. Yes, after the swim, I had just taken off my trunks and put them on the hot sunbed next to me. And I'm boasting a full-blown erection. I put my face in my palms and groans. Jesus, John, you dirty old man! 

I swap the lukewarm bottle of wine for chilled one from the fridge and return to the pool. Feeling a bit ashamed, but damn I'm horny. Fantasies about the girls are filling my head. I really shouldn't go up there in the morning, but I know I will. I have to find out if it's just my imagination because if it's not, it will be memories I will carry with me for a long time. 

The next morning I wake up early and take a shower outside. I am standing there with the warm water dripping over me, looking out across the valley. This place is paradise. The plot is on the hillside overlooking the village, and the whole valley to the Atlantic ocean. Above the mansion, the hills roll on and on, but there are no houses there, at least not any I can see. Down in the valley, pastures creates gaps in the otherwise woody landscape. Bocage the french call it. 

The ocean is bright blue against the pink and orange morning sky. I could stand here for hours, just looking. But my mind wanders to Lilou and Celeste. I feel myself getting hard. My hand grips the shaft of my cock, I stroke myself, fantasizing about them, and I close my eyes, the fantasy even better than the view. 

After breakfast, still no baguette, I try to find some clothes fit for a day in the hills. But the best I can find is golf trousers, a polo shirt, sneakers, and a silly golf cap. The girls will laugh their ass off. But my mood is on top, so I put that thought aside, lock the door and start walking up the hill past the pool and the big bush.

"John," they both cry out in unison as they see me. And then they giggle again. 

"You look like a dork, but we will take you with us anyway." Celeste's eyes tinder as she walks up to me. 

"Thanks, I guess," I answer with a smile. "Can't let you get lost in the hills all by yourself." 

She stands close to me. I can feel the heat radiating off her body — the smell of her perfume. She takes my hand in hers and leads me back to Lilou. 

"We have decided that you will flip a coin. If you get tails, you ride with me on the way out. If heads, you ride with Lilou. Do you like head and tails, John?" she pushes me with her shoulder, still holding my hand. 

"Watch it, girls," I say jokingly. "That type of jokes might get nice girls in trouble."

"Oh, we love trouble, John," Lilou answers. "And we are not nice girls!" 

Lilou hands me a coin, and I flip it high in the air before catching it and turning it over. 

"Heads, his mine," Lilou exclaims.

"Well, lucky you," Celeste pouts her lips. "But, I bet you will get back pains from that pole poking you all the way." Her hand lets go of my hand, and she places it over my limp cock, stroking it. "We saw you yesterday, John, were you dreaming of us?"

I'm not sure how to reply. I'm shellshocked. 

Of course, this is what I had been fantasizing of since ever since that coffee. But now, standing here, with Celeste's hand massaging my cock, that is getting harder and harder by the second, and Lilou, who is jiggling her peaky breast in my face.

"Eh, eh..." It is all I manage to say. 

They both press themself against me, one on each side. 

"John," Celeste whisper in my ear. "We have fantasized about you since we were thirteen. We had never seen anyone having sex before we saw you and your wife. We watched you every time. Your hands all over her body, your cock, pounding her from behind, your bearded face full of dripping pussyjuice after you made her orgasm over and over again. And now, we want to see if you are as good as our fantasies were."

"Don't disappoint us, John," Lilou whisper in my other ear. 

We ride downhill on a small gravel path. The landscape is mixed woodlands and pastures. The air is rich with smells of flowers and a touch of the salty sea. Purple and blue sage line the side of the path, and pink asters are everywhere. I cling on to Lilou's small body; she is slim but fit, I can feel her muscles tensing when guiding the horse. My arms around her waist, her hair gets stuck in my face, my beard. She smells of lilies. I can't resist and lean in and put my chin against her shoulder, from up here on horseback; everything looks different. 

It's like riding into a Monet painting. My mind wanders, thinking about the beauty of the world. But suddenly it all falls away, Lilou's hands move my hands from her hips, one at the time, not letting go of the reins, to her breasts. She turns around in the saddle and gives me a small kiss on the cheek. 

Her breasts are so firm. She is braless, and I can feel her nipples through the fabric of her top. I kiss her neck, daring now. I slide one of my hands under her shirt, touching her skin, caressing her body. My fingers are pinching her nipples; they harden from my touch. It's wildly arousing — the rocking pace of the horse beneath me, her scent in my nostrils, her body pressed against mine. My cock is waking up, pushing in my pants. 

She can feel it, and she grids her hips towards me. 

"Finally, John," She says. "You were never this timid in our fantasies." 

"Hey, Celeste," She calls over, "John has finally managed to get a grip of the situation. We race! The first one down to the meadow gets to unbuckle his pants!" Her laugh is loud and full of life. She kicks the horse and set off down the path in full gallop. 

We reach a small meadow sunken in between low ridges filled with trees. Celeste jumps off her horse on to the grassy ground, seconds before Lilou and me. She raises her arms in the air in mock celebration and blows us both a kiss. 

"I win," she shouts. 

"I think John wins," Lilou shouts back. "You were right; he is poking my back with that cock of his, and this kind of riding is probably not what he had in mind."

She is right, the gallop down the hill smashed my body against her, squashing me. But I'm still hard, my cock straining against the fabric of my pants. As I slide down the side of the horse, both of them giggle at me.

"I think he is okay," Celeste winks at me. 

It's clear to me that the girls have it all planned out. So I let them take the driver's seat here. I stand there, looking at them, staring, while they unpack things from the saddlebags. Girl scouts, I think to myself, horny, own-the-world young women, but girls scouts none the less. 

They toss out a big blanket on the knee-high grass that flattens under the weight. Two bags with the logo from the bakery on them and small wicker basked.

"Over here, John," Celeste beckons me. "I know it's a pretty view, but I think we can draw your eyes away from it."

They both pull off the shirts and slide out of their riding pants and boots. In front of me stands two goddesses. 

"Wow!" I exclaim. 

"See John; we are not kids anymore!" Lilou winks. 

"I want to claim my prize." Celeste moves over to me, her hands tug at my polo shirt, and together we draw it over my head. My hairy chest is not that of a twenty-year-old buck anymore, but try to hit the gym at least a few times a week, so I'm not ashamed of myself in front of these gorgeous girls. 

"Mmm, that's a real man," She purrs and grinds her face against me. Her hands fidget with the buckle of my belt, loosen it, and my pants and boxers fall to the ground. 

"Oooh," she giggles as my cock stands in attention. "And that's a proper cock as well, just like I remember it."

Lilou has sat down on the blanket and opened a bottle of rosé wine. She holds out a plastic mug towards me.

"Come join me," she beckons us. "I think John might need a few minutes to let all sink in, don't you, John?" 

"Mhm," I nod a bit silly, while Celeste pushes me in front of her on to the blanket. 

The wine should not taste this good. It's not cold enough for rosé, and the plastic cup. But this might be the best damn wine I have ever had. I lay down, propped up on my arms — the girls on either side of me. I thought I felt on top of the world last morning, but now, here, cmon this must be what paradise is like if it exists. 

I know my part now and realize it's all real. This is what they want; it's not my imagination playing games. 

"So, you two horny little sluts," I smile at them, my most charming, playful smile, "Now that you have got me here, undressed me, and got me drunk, do you have even more plans, what are your dirty fantasies?"

"Oh, don't worry, John," Celeste pushes me down, flat out on my back. "We know what we want. Starting with this!" She straddles me, sits down right on top of my face.

Her pink string underwear is almost see-through. A small tuft of dark hair, moisture makes them cling to her pussy. The smell of her sex wakes up primal instincts deep in me.

I reach around her, press her against my face, push her underwear aside, and greedily taste her. My tongue is exploring every fold of her pussy lips, sucking, slurping. She moans deeply. 

Lilou's hands grab my cock, she strokes it, and I can hear her almost purring of excitement as her lips wrap around my bulbous knob. Her warm mouth, wonderfully soft, her tongue gliding, stroking, tasting me. 

"Holy fuck, John," Celeste's voice ring out. She arches her back, her arms on my thighs. She is pressing her swollen pussy even closer to me, opening her up to me, her pussy gaping open just a little bit.

I suck on her hard clit, suck, release, suck, release. Her lips are puffed up and swollen with blood rushing around her body. 
Drips of juices run down my cheeks, the taste incredible and salty.
Her hips are grinding and rocking on top of me. 
I press the tip of my tongue against her opening, pushing inside. In and out, in and out. 

My cock is throbbing inside Lilou's mouth. She slurps and spits. 
One hand massaging my balls, squeezing. 
She takes me deep, slowly, my knob pushing against the back of her throat, she relaxes, and my cock glides in, even further. She gags and drools, but keeps sucking and sucking. 

It's so damn good. I moan and growl, mixed with all the juices from Celeste's dripping pussy, it makes gurgling sounds.

Celeste's grips my head. She is forcefully grinding herself against my mouth, my beard, my tongue. She pants, the muscles in her body tense, flexing. My hands grip her ass, her perfectly rounded firm ass, and squeeze. 

I mash my face against her, sucking, licking, tongue-fucking her. She trashes and moans. 

Lilou straddles me, my tip of my cock pressing against her pussy. She teases me, not letting me inside. 
I try to flex the muscles in my thighs to enter her, but the weight of both of them on top of me is too much. 

Celeste moans are more profound and come from deep inside. Guttural noises. Her body is so wound up, pressed hard against me. 
I can hardly breathe with all the juices flowing out of her. 

Finally, Lilou pushes down on me, her tight pussy glides down around my shaft. So tight. She bounces up and down, my cock pulsating, throbbing. 

I'm not sure I can hold back much more. I can feel the orgasm building up inside me. 

Celeste cries out. She cums. 
Her nails dig into my skin. 
Her thighs almost crush my head.
Gushes of her juices all over my mouth and face. 

I'm there as well. I cannot hold back. 
I scream as I cum. 

Lilou's body bounces against me, and with each bounce, my cum shoots up inside her, pulse after pulse, her pussy gripping my cock tighter than a vice. 

They both rollover and cuddles up on either side of me. My arms hold them close. Celeste's breath is still fast and strong; her body is heaving with every breath. 

Lilou's head is resting on my chest, and she looks into my eyes with a cheeky grin. 

"John, you hopefully understand that we are not finished," she drags her nails across my chest and purrs. "Not by a longshot!"

"Mmmm," I wink at her. "Oh, I know, I know what you need."

"Go ahead, John," Celeste rolls of me, "She needs one of those as well!"

Rising on my left arm, I draw Lilou close and kiss her — the taste of Celeste's juices lingering in my mouth. 

Pushing her over, kissing her neck, her ear. My hand caresses her all over, squeezing her firm breasts, pinching her nipples. My god, she is so beautiful. 

Kissing her whole body, along her legs, I nibble at her feet. 
I kiss and lick, up towards her mound, teasingly close to her labia lips.
She giggles. 

I push her knees apart, my fingers massaging her pussy. Sperm drips out of her, mixed with her juices. I slide my fingers up and down, gently against each of her outer lips. Her clit is hard and protruding. 

I lean in; my beard rubs against her, slowly, not touching her with my lips. My deep breaths blow hot air, and she squirms.
I open my mouth and closes in over her pussy, the tip of my tongue flicking against her clit. Slowly, teasingly. 
With only my thumb, I massage her, just outside her hole, on that thin tight skin. 

Lilou arches her back, urging me on.
I slide two fingers inside her, filling her tight young pussy. 
My tongue is now greedily licking her clit, circling it. Sucking, squeezing it with my lips. 

My fingers plunge deep inside her, curl up, and then out again. I am pressing against the rough patch of tissue on their way out. Over and over again. 

Her body is flexing, I have to hold apart her knees with my elbow as the muscles tense up. 

With my fingers inside her, fucking her. My mouth and tongue on her clit, I push her closer and closer to the edge. I can feel the orgasm starting to build up inside her, and I slow down. 

I bring her close, then slowly back off. 
Her hands grip my head, not letting back off anymore. Her whole body is shaking. My tongue is more aggressive; I thrust with my fingers, juices are pushed out. 

Her back arches as she cums. 
I'm not letting her go with my mouth. 
I feel her pussy clamp down on my fingers, again and again. 
Her legs are shaking. 

And then she goes limp; her legs fall apart. She sighs deeply and giggles.

"Oh, looks who's awake," Celeste leans in over me, her breath in my ear. She strokes my cock, now hard again with her soft hand. "My turn."

I lean back, and she climbs on to me. Her breasts in my face as she slowly lowers herself on to me, her pussy opening up as I slide inside her. 

She kisses me, sincere and passionate. 

I hold her close as she slowly rocks her body against mine. 

"John," she purrs. "Will you stay all summer?"

"I wish," I kiss her neck. "But I don't think Louis will let me stay that long."

"He will if I ask him," Lilou slides her arms around me. Celeste is still riding me, slowly, lovingly.

"It's her grandpa, you stupid man," Celeste laughs.

"Oh my." I squint my eyes. 

"Don't worry, John, he loves you," Lilou giggles, "Almost as much as we do."

We stay there, in the meadow all afternoon. The sun hot on our bodies. 
The birds were circling in the sky. 
The girls had brought along a picknick, and I finally had that baguette to go.