So far, I’ve spent only one year of my life outside of Italy: I had a French boyfriend at the time and lived with him in a city near Paris. Workwise, it was ideal: the company that employs me has a Paris branch. Relationship-wise, well, that’s what I’m here to talk about, isn’t it?

One particular Sunday morning, we had done our groceries at the Carrefour, and as we were walking back to my boyfriend’s car, our relationship took an unexpected turn. My boyfriend was carrying the bags, and my mind was occupied with dinner, work and the usual cares. That’s why, at first, I hadn’t noticed her at all. But when I opened the trunk, enabling my boyfriend to unload the groceries, he looked so distractedly towards his left that the fresh baguettes we’d bought almost fell out of the bag. His eyes, too, I noticed, almost fell out of his sockets.

‘Be careful!’ I scolded as my eyes followed his gaze.

A woman stood bent over the back seat of the car parked beside us. She was fastening a baby in its seat. She had her back towards us, and her perfect pear-shaped bottom was propped up right next to the opening for the fuel injection of her car.

I presented my boyfriend with a mocking grin, having caught him in the act of eyeballing. He blushed and proceeded unloading the groceries. He was always so cutely shy about his sexual appetite. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous, and I decided to tease him. I leaned in and whispered in his ear: ‘I suppose if you were single, you would try to make her acquaintance now, wouldn’t you?’

He grinned and murmured something about her having a child.

‘Would that seriously stop you from chatting her up? Look at her!’ I whispered intensely, grabbing his arm in the process and shaking the muscles in an expression of my enthusiasm. ‘What. A. Butt. Bet you’d like to inject some fuel into that!’

My boyfriend – let’s call him Alex – flushed all the way to his ears. Red in the face, he began to pull the trunk down with that muscular arm of his. I’ve never been able to resist those involuntary shows of bashfulness that physically strong men evince more often than you’d expect. I was enjoying myself now, so I arrested his arm and stopped him from closing the trunk while whispering: ‘Not so fast! I’m enjoying the view waaay too much. Look, look, she’s propping it up even higher. Look at it wiggling. It’s like she wants someone’s nozzle injected for some fresh fuel supply!”

‘Stop it!’ he murmured, smiling in spite of himself.

The woman was still occupied with her baby, babbling to it in French, her bottom wavering before us. I estimated her to be about our age, perhaps a few years older. She was wearing some loose linen for pants – it was early July – and I could see the outline of her panties forming a triangle on her butt. Now, eyes always follow an inverted triangle downwards towards its lowest vertex, and there, indeed, I could see the fabric of her panties pressing through the linen, giving the impression of a small, pillowy patch right there between her legs. By God, I thought, she is really putting it out there, isn’t she?

‘I think she’s aware of us. She knows. She’s showing, she’s giving us a cul-show,’ I whispered to Alex.

‘She’s talking to her child,’ he retorted while peering into the trunk. He was now too embarrassed to even cast a glance at her. I, however, had no such inhibitions. Gazing at her butt, I pressed him: ‘Say something to her! Make her acquaintance before it’s too late. Come on, you’re French, show me your smoothness. Chat her up. What’s that about la langue d’amour? Is that just a myth?’

He shook his head, smiled shyly, and remained mute.

‘You’re drawing a blank, aren’t you?’

I pushed him teasingly against his shoulder.

‘I’m drawing up several things,’ he whispered.

There! Finally, some cheek! Knowing full well what he alluded to, I looked down at his crotch. But since he was wearing jeans, the change wasn’t easy to spot, and I couldn’t help myself to make a very quick grab for it. I felt the semi-hardness underneath, squeezed, and let go.

‘You’re horny,’ I muttered.

My touch emboldened Alex, and he now allowed himself another glance at the propped-up, cute little bottom beside us. He couldn’t help widely grinning.

‘Come on, seduce her,’ I pressed him yet again, remembering my original purpose of teasing him for his eyeballing. ‘You clearly want her,’ I added. ‘Go for it.’

He shook his head. I leant in, and with my lips touching his ear, I whispered: ‘If you can chat her up, I’ll let you insert your nozzle in that thing, like… hard. I’ll watch. I swear.’

That boyish blush – which had diminished for a moment right after I had touched his crotch – came burning right through his cheeks again. His lips were trembling now. But I myself felt rather shaky too. Naturally, I had not meant a word of anything I had said. I had never had a threesome before, had never wanted one, and had never in my wildest dreams imagined myself capable of one. Of course, it was all just fun and games. Just a tease.

At that moment, the woman stepped back, stood up straight, and proceeded to close the car door.

Alex was trying desperately hard not to look at her. He was obviously going to make it appear to her like he’d never even noticed her. To me, that seemed an injustice to the girl. I mean, if my ass had been making such an impression on some random couple, wouldn’t I have liked to know about it, even if just for the sake of my self-esteem?

Because I felt that she deserved at least a bit of acknowledgment, I simply blurted out, ‘Such a gorgeous baby!’

I think all of the excitement really gave some zest to my voice at that time, for the young mother turned round and cast me the kind of smile a girl smiles when she is sincerely flattered.

I skipped around Alex and positioned myself in front of the window of her car, so I could peer inside at the baby in the back seat (though I remained at a far enough distance so as not to unnerve the baby.) Looking at it, I giggled in my most girlish voice and crooned, ‘Ooh, soo cute!’

The woman laughed and said, ‘Ah yes, he’s not too bad.’

Now, I bent a little bit forwards myself, leaning towards the window, presumably to get a better view of her baby, but really because I knew Alex was standing right behind me and would now be getting a view of my bottom.

‘How old is he?’ I asked.

‘Nine months,’ she replied.

‘He’s adorable. Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be intrusive…’

‘Oh no. It’s quite all right.’

‘He looks a bit like you.’

‘I’m not too sure about that,’ she laughed.

‘Yes, he has that kind of cute nose like you do.’

‘Cute nose?’ she repeated in surprise, her smile widening.

‘Oh, mon Dieu,’ I said, clasping my hand before my mouth. ‘I don’t know why I just blurted that out. Silly me, oh, it must be the heat, I’m sorry!’

She laughed, said, ‘De rien, de rien’, and moved a strand of hair back behind her ear. I noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. She looked me in the eyes and asked, ‘Are you Italian?’

‘Si,’ I replied.

‘You have a cute accent,’ she said before giggling and clasping her hand before her mouth, the same way I had just done.

My heart began racing. I was chatting her up!

I cast a quick glance at Alex, who was standing there with a polite smile. Your girlfriend is having some touche, I mentalised while we made eye contact, and we both looked away smiling.

‘He’s a bit scared of babies,’ I said, trying to involve Alex in the conversation now.

‘I’m not,’ he said.

She didn’t really respond to that. It dawned on me then to scan her hands: no wedding ring. I conjectured she was probably a single mother and, testing that hypothesis, said quasi-casually, ‘It must be hard parenting.’

‘It’s exhausting at times,’ she replied. Then, after a second or so, she confided in us, ‘Especially since I’m on my own.’

She had sounded as undramatic as possible, and I was certain then and there that I liked her.

‘I can imagine. Ah, who knows. Maybe one day…’ I said, impregnating that last fading little sentence with meaning by looking at the baby in the back seat again.

She smiled at me confidentially, like we were girlfriends since high school, and said, ‘You’re thinking about…’

‘We’re thinking about a lot of things,’ I blurted out, and I immediately cast a very bold look at her body, straight into her décolleté – I don’t know what had gotten into me! She had a wonderful physique, though, with a perky bosom and a gorgeous neckline. It was hard not to look at it.

Her response came as a surprise. She spoke very slowly and full of tease, ‘What exactly are you thinking of?’

It was nearly a whisper, and she had spoken in a husky tone, from far back out of her throat, the way the French naturally speak but this time really, like, pouring it on…

The mood was suddenly electric. I could almost feel the current run through Alex’s body – there was certainly one zapping through mine!

In a stammering manner, I succeeded in replying, ‘We’re thinking of… Well. I… I suppose… I suppose you have little me-time remaining as a single mum? I mean, like a good old-fashioned bath, a glass of wine, some foam, a good book, some, like, oil…’

I felt myself blushing. She laughed soundlessly, her shoulders wiggled, her eyes glittered. I didn’t know what to say anymore. I tried desperately – but my mind was in a haze. She seemed more relaxed than I was at this stage, just standing there looking at me curiously, intent on waiting for me to speak first.

Thankfully, at that moment, Alex, sensing the electricity, came to the rescue, ‘If you girls need some eh… me-time right now, I can go round the block.’

We all laughed.

I saw Alex scratch the side of his neck, something he was wont to do when feeling nervous or awkward, and she glanced approvingly at his bicep.

‘That won’t be necessary. I mean, you leaving…’ she said, biting her lower lip.

The nerve on the girl! She was flirting with my boyfriend! My heart really started pounding now.

‘You’re a nice couple,’ she said.

Alex and I said ‘Merci’ in unison, and then we were all silent for a moment or two. Consequently, Alex asked her what her name was, and unexpectedly, a dose of jealousy hit me. I heard Alex’s voice deepen as he asked, and it made me feel insecure.

She said her name was Adrienne. We replied by giving her our names, and then there was another silence. After a few seconds, she said she needed to be going, for her baby couldn’t stay in the car like this for very long. I surmise she had noticed my sudden loss of heart, for she took no initiative to exchange contact information. Next thing we knew, we had said our goodbyes, she had gotten into her car and had driven off. We had exchanged kisses, though – which is not at all a common thing to do with someone you’d just met in a parking lot. Her perfume had gotten in my nostrils and remained there as me and Alex got in his car.

‘Tu es fou,’ he said, shaking his head, though the expression on his face was very cheerful.

We were both silent during the drive home; I think we both needed some time to let it all sink in.

After a minute or two, the smell of her perfume – that still lingered with me – made me regret having parted from her like that. Would we ever see her again?

And as I caught myself thinking like this, I couldn’t help myself from smiling all of a sudden and pressing my cheek into the head support while dreamily gazing out of the window, watching the houses go by. Could it be… could it actually be that I was serious about this?

‘Have you ever had a threesome?’ I muttered.

‘Quoi?’ Alex replied.

‘Nothing,’ I hastened to say.

I secretively peered at Alex while he was driving. He had a little dimple at the side of his mouth that betrayed he was having some animated thoughts of his own about what had just transpired. My gaze naturally went downwards: was there still a bulge in his pants? It was impossible to really make out from the jeans he was wearing: those kinds of pants always seemed to bulge a bit at the crotch. But as I was investigating him like that, my attention was suddenly pulled towards my crotch – and I nearly sighted. It was still electric down there! How could it be that I had hardly noticed? I must have been so hypnotised by the whole situation and my reflective thoughts about it that I hadn’t even noticed that my inner thighs were damp with moisture. I slid my left leg over my right – positioning myself in such a way that I could secretly move my hand underneath my dress and between my thighs. And as my hand slid in between, and my index finger made contact with a very clammy spot in my panties, I felt like outright moaning for how good it felt. But I constrained myself.

I turned my head to my boyfriend and said, ‘So you think she was a MILF?’

‘Bit too young for that.’

‘So you know what a MILF is then?’

‘Everyone knows that,’ he said softly as he drove the car up the parking lot in front of our apartment building. It was a quiet neighbourhood where we lived, and there was not a soul in sight that Sunday morning.

Alex parked the car, but before he could turn off the ignition, I leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, ‘She sure was a mother I’d like to fuck.’

I swear I could see the hairs on his neck rising.

‘She had the nicest ass.’

‘Well, yes, she did,’ he muttered.

The radio was playing some chanson by a female singer, maybe it was Edith Piaf, I don’t know, but she had this dusky, mellow sound, coming from deep down the throat like the way Adrienne had been speaking. Listening to that mezzo-throaty singing voice, I had only one thing on my mind.

I unfastened my seatbelt, and, using both of my hands, I started unbuttoning his pants.

‘What are you doing?’ he said while scanning the parking lot.

‘Apart from getting ready to give you the blowjob of your life, not much,’ I muttered between my teeth, for I was salivating so badly that I could hardly speak. My hand had been between my thighs all this time – and it hadn’t been motionless – and I had become really, really horny.

Alex always wore loose underwear with buttons in the front, and this came in very handy now: I could take his cock out with ease and no clothes restricting it. He was semi-hard already. I positioned myself on my knees on the passenger’s seat, leaned over, and took the whole thing in my mouth. I started sucking his cock as intensely and wildly as I could – the way you’d suck on an ice lolly if you were in an ice pop-eating competition.

He moaned, said my name, grabbed my hair, and scraped my scalp with his fingertips. That scrape made me rub my clit as hard as I could manage in my position. I was close… and then I thought of what a sight I would make for a passerby, with my ass almost propped up against the window like that and my hand rubbing my clit over my panties in between my thighs…

I came. It was the first time I had an orgasm with a cock in my mouth. It muffled my moaning.

My boyfriend was panting, egging me on, saying how hot I was, how hot the things I were doing were, how close he was…

Being in this bold state I was in, I wanted to do one more special thing – one more thing out of the ordinary for me. I slid his cock out of my mouth and laid my head in his lap right next to his erection, and then I turned myself over on my back. It was a bit of a tricky position, but I could still get my left hand to his cock and jerk him. I looked at his face: his eyes were huge and fixed on me. The bashfulness was gone now, he was all lust. I felt his cock pulsing and twitching in my hand. I slid my tongue out of my mouth and moaned.

Oh, how violently he came! His head rolled backwards, and I saw one tall stream of white cum shoot straight upwards into the air. I closed my eyes, and, still jerking him, I felt the thick moisture splash on my eyebrow, my tongue and my mouth, on my cheek, my chin, some landed on my hair…

When he was empty, I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me with an expression of total amazement.

Without saying a word, I pulled myself up, opened the door, and got out of the car.

‘You’ve still got…’ he commenced, pointing at my face.

I closed the car door and proceeded to walk towards the entrance of our apartment building. I’m sure I would have turned back if I had seen anyone, but I was all alone, and we lived on the ground floor, so I simply continued, all cum covered. At the entrance, I turned and looked at him: he stood spellbound by the side of the car. I blew an air kiss at him and entered the building.

When I got into our apartment, I immediately retired to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My fluffy, undulating black hair was streaked with white cum, and it was all over my face too. Without even bothering to wipe it off, I smeared on my reddest lipstick. I had never felt so tough in all my life.