Can't Help the Way That I Feel

The hardest thing about writing erotica is crossing the (sexual) line with style and class.

“N’arrête pas, n’ arrête pas,” Genevieve kept repeating over and over. By the confused look on her American lover’s face, she could tell that he had no idea that she was asking for “more please.” He had stopped kissing her neck, and she wanted desperately for him to continue. She started pointing to the spot that his lips had just vacated, hoping that he would pick up the hint.

“Oh, you want some more?” Mark said, and picked up where he had left off.

His kisses began trailing from her thin neck to her cleavage. He unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons on her red silk blouse until her lace bra was exposed. Mark hesitated long enough to admire her sexy underwear. Her bra was thin enough for him to see the rosy color of her nipples. “Damn, you French chicks really have the feminine thing down to a science.”

“Pardon?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. Now it was Genevieve who didn’t understand.

Mark listened to her French words, which floated in the air like a sweet symphony. He didn’t know what she was saying but knew they weren’t the same words as before. They didn’t understand each other’s language, but that didn’t really matter. What mattered was that they spoke the same body language, and right now her body was speaking volumes. The way she was poking out her breasts and moving closer to him on the sofa was telling him to proceed, and proceed he did.

Mark unsnapped her bra, causing her tits to spill out. Unlike most women he had been with, she was au natural, no implants, all flesh. He placed his hand underneath her right boob and jiggled it just to make sure. “Yep, all woman,” he mused, as her titty shook like Jell-O.

Genevieve reached for the back of his head and guided him toward her waiting nipple. Realizing that words were useless, she decided to utilize hand gestures, and pinched her nipple with her thumb and index finger.

Marked took her clue and began to suckle her tit like he was trying to extract milk.

Genevieve threw her head back on the sofa cushions and enjoyed the succulent sensation. She couldn’t believe that only a few hours ago, she had stepped off the plane at Kennedy Airport, and now she was in the midst of a heated sexual experience.

The flight from Charles de Gaulle to Kennedy airport was long, and Genevieve should have slept the entire way, but she was too excited to close her eyes. She had dreamt of coming to America, especially New York, since she was a child. Seeing postcards and pictures from friends and relatives who had been abroad had piqued her interest at an early age, and she often daydreamed about seeing the Statue of Liberty, the Golden Gate Bridge and other famous American monuments.

Now that she was an adult, her dream was finally coming to fruition. Genevieve had joined an Internet social network, and had met some really cool Americans, who persuaded her to come to the States. Their urging, coupled with her long-seated desire, was all she needed to finally make the trip.

Genevieve owned a small boulangerie-pâtisserie in the sixteenth arrondissement with her fiancé. Their bakery was in an affluent part of Paris and was extremely successful, allowing her to splurge on a ten-day holiday in the States. Jean-Paul, her fiancé, stayed behind to mind the shop, allowing her to fulfill her childhood dream before they settled down and had a family.

Her first stop was Manhattan, and then on to Chicago and California before heading back home. Having lived in France all of her life, Genevieve’s English was poor at best. Even though she learned the foreign language in grade school, she hadn’t had much use for it, until now. She had brushed up on a few key phrases before coming to the States, like, “Hello, my name is…,” “Please,” “Excuse me,” and “Thank you.” And she hoped to pick up more English while she was in New York.

The customs line was long but moved swiftly and soon Genevieve had her passport stamped and was free to enter the United States. She traded her Euros for dollars at the currency exchange and then headed to baggage claim. After she retrieved her luggage, she headed outside to the taxi line.

“Where ya goin’?” asked the taxi driver in a thick Brooklyn accent, once she climbed in the backseat.

Genevieve took out the brochure for the hotel and handed it to him.

“Twenty-fourth and Seventh, coming right up.”

Genevieve was so excited that she perched herself on the edge of the seat and peered out of the window. She watched in awe as the streets of New York whizzed by. The afternoon sun was shining bright, and sunlight bounced off the tops of skyscrapers. The city’s bridges—especially the Brooklyn Bridge—were also a wonder to her, standing tall and strong over the East River.

Soon, they were pulling up in front of the hotel, located in Chelsea. She paid the driver and got out.

Once she had checked into her room she hooked up her laptop, wanting to let her friend know that she had made it safely to the hotel. Genevieve logged on to her email account, and sure enough there was an email from her American friend, Barbara. She clicked on the email, copied the text and then pasted it onto a translation website, which interpreted it into French.

Hey there, hope you had a good flight. I’m working this afternoon, but can meet you later this evening to show you a really good time.

Genevieve typed her response back in French and used the same copy and paste method to translate her words to English.

Sounds good. I can’t wait. She and Barb had been email buddies for the past few months, and she couldn’t wait to meet in person.

After sending Barb the hotel information, Genevieve logged off, took a brief power nap, and then, before heading out to explore the city, she stopped at the front desk and dropped off an envelope. Some of her New York Internet buddies had suggested that she check out the Village and other cool places in the city. She followed their instructions, took her time and browsed in and out of shops and boutiques along Seventh Avenue. New York was similar to Paris in that there were people everywhere, and everyone seemed to be in a hurry. She looked at the buildings and noted that most of the architecture was old, though of course not as old as that in France. But some structures had ornate masonry work that she found interesting. Although she was a stranger to the city and didn’t speak much English, she didn’t feel like an alien; she felt right at home.

Before long, Genevieve found her way to the West Village and into Bar Pitti, a trendy Italian restaurant, with an awesome outdoor café, perfect for people-watching. Celebrities were known to frequent the place, as well as a smattering of the beautiful people.

“Buona sera, bella,” the handsome Italian host greeted her.

Genevieve smiled broadly. She may not have known much English, but she knew Italian well. She returned the greeting, and they stood there and conversed in Italian for a few moments. He flirted shamelessly, complimenting her on her beauty before seating her at a choice outdoor table.

The waiter promptly came over, and she ordered a glass of wine. When he came back with her drink, he rattled off a list of specials in English and told her to take her time. Genevieve didn’t understand, so she just smiled and nodded her head as he spoke.

Genevieve glanced over the menu. It was all in English so she ordered what she knew, spaghetti Bolognese, and sipped her wine as she glanced around the restaurant.

She looked to her left and instantly locked eyes with a handsome stranger. He was staring intently at her, and his gaze was mesmerizing. Even from across the café, she could see his smoldering brown eyes. He had chocolate brown skin, a clean-shaven head, a chiseled jawline, full lips and a keen nose. He wore a white shirt, underneath a navy blue suit. Even wearing a suit, Genevieve could see that he had broad shoulders. He was alone, sitting comfortably with his arm draped across the back of the chair and his legs crossed. He was swirling red wine around in his glass. He had an air of confidence about him that Genevieve found sexy.

He tilted his glass in her direction and nodded his head, acknowledging her presence.

Genevieve blushed shyly, then slowly licked her lips suggestively. She was an engaged woman and had no right admiring, let alone flirting with another man, but she couldn’t help herself. She had never dated a black man before and found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss his luscious lips. Would they engulf her mouth? Would they feel soft against hers? Would they…

Arrête! she thought, telling herself to stop. Genevieve diverted her eyes away from his. Hailing from France, the country of love, she was extremely sensual. However, she had no business lusting after another man. She looked down at the diamond engagement ring on her left hand, and it was sparkling up at her as a reminder that she was spoken for.

“Excuse me. Do you mind if I join you?”

Genevieve looked up, startled. She had been staring down at her ring and didn’t see the stranger cross the patio. Now he was standing directly in front of her table talking to her. She could make out a few of his words, but the rest were foreign to her. “Pardon?” she replied in her heavy French accent.

I should have known she was European. She’s too exotic looking to be American, he thought. Mark took in Genevieve’s essence. She had smooth alabaster skin and thick black hair that she wore parted down the center, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Her lips were thin, but the red lipstick she wore made them look luscious and inviting. She wore a snug, crimson blouse, the exact color of her lipstick, and a black skirt that rose above her knees as she sat, cross-legged. She oozed sex appeal but not in a vulgar way. She seemed comfortable in her skin and was not trying to be provocative. Mark could feel heat beginning to rise from within. This woman, whoever she was, was turning him on, and she hadn’t even uttered a complete sentence. There seemed to be a hedonistic connection between them. He sensed it from across the room, and now that he was standing close, there was no denying their chemistry. If they were wild animals in the jungle, he would be mounting her by now and fucking her brains out. And just like animals, they had sniffed out each other’s attraction. But unlike beasts in the wild kingdom, he had to act with decorum.

“Do you speak English?” he asked, slowly.

Genevieve put up her index finger and thumb, put them close together, and said, “Un peu.”

He pulled out the chair across from her. “Well, a little is better than none. Do you mind?” he asked before sitting down.

Genevieve didn’t know what he said but figured he was asking to sit down. She nodded her head yes, and then said, “Puisje m’asseoir sur votre visage, pendant que vous mangez, ma chatte?”

“I don’t know what you just say, but it sure sounds good.”

Mark had no idea that she had asked to sit on his face while he ate her pussy.

Genevieve smiled slyly at her brazen words. Saying whatever she wanted was a major turn-on. Being able to voice her inner thoughts was liberating. This was Genevieve’s last vacation as a single woman, and it seemed a waste not to take full advantage of her freedom.

“Hi, my name is Mark.” He smiled and extended his hand.

She shook his hand. “Genevieve.”

Mark held her hand for a moment. Her skin was as soft as a baby’s. He reluctantly released her hand and placed it gently back on the table.

“Would you like to move your seating, sir?” the waiter asked, noticing that Mark had migrated to another table.

“Yes, please.” Mark noticed that Genevieve was also drinking red wine and decided to order a bottle. “Also, can you bring us a bottle of cabernet, and an assortment of appetizers? Did she order her dinner yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll have the fish of the day,” he informed the waiter.

“Sure thing.”

Genevieve listened to their exchange, understanding little but not caring. Her full attention was drawn to the handsome black American. As Mark was talking to the waiter, she stole a few glances at him. He was even more attractive up close. When he spoke, deep dimples pierced his chiseled cheeks. His teeth were so bright and perfect that they seemed artificial. His voice was deep and resonating. He was confident and commanded attention. Even though Genevieve had only been in his presence for mere moments, she was smitten. She had met black men in France, but none were as suave and debonair as this guy. He was as smooth as silk, and she sat back and watched him work.

After the waiter had gone, Mark scooted closer to the table. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, very slowly. He noticed that she had a blank expression on her face, so he picked up the fork on the table and lifted it to his mouth.

From his gesture, Genevieve guessed that he was talking about eating. “Oui, oui,” she said, shaking her head yes, though her appetite was less for food and more for this delicious man.

“Here’s your wine, sir,” the waiter said, presenting the bottle to Mark.

Mark looked at the label, made sure it was what he had ordered, and then nodded his head. The waiter poured him a sip to taste. After Mark approved, the waiter poured them each a glass of the ruby colored liquid.

Mark started to ask Genevieve how long she was going to be in town, but he knew that she wouldn’t understand him, so he just clinked his glass to hers and said, “Cheers.”

“A votre santé,” she toasted, wishing him good health.

They drank in silence for a while, until the waiter brought out a dazzling array of food, everything from calamari to antipasto.

Mark was surprised to see that Genevieve wasn’t shy. She prepared his plate first and then her own. She didn’t pick at her food like some of his dates; instead she enjoyed the delicious appetizers. Good, she has a healthy appetite. I wonder if her sexual appetite is as strong, he found himself thinking.

Genevieve noticed that he wasn’t eating. She then made the same gesture with her fork that he had made, indicating that he should eat.

Mark took her cue and began munching. Her beauty had taken away his appetite. The only thing he was hungry for at the moment was a taste of her pussy. He had been in Bar Pitti many times, but never had a woman commanded his attention like Genevieve. It must have been a combination of her beauty and her sexuality, and also the fact that he had spent the last three days upstate at a male mentoring retreat. The weekend had been great, with fatherless boys from the inner city meeting and bonding with successful men. Mark was a community organizer and had spearheaded the retreat. He had enjoyed every moment but was now ready for some female company, and Ms. Sexy Frenchwoman fit the bill perfectly.

When they finished their dinner, the waiter came, cleared their plates and returned to refill their glasses.

Genevieve stole glances at Mark as they sipped their wine. She was curious to know more about him, but the language barrier was in the way. The few English words she knew were whirling around in her head as she tried to formulate a sentence. “Vous avez apprécié le repas, meal?”

Mark knitted his brow. He didn’t quite understand what she was saying. “Excuse me?”

The forks were gone from the table, so she put her hand to her mouth as if she were eating while smiling broadly and letting the sound “Mmm,” slip through her lips.

“Oh, yes, I enjoyed dinner!”

Genevieve smiled, knowing that she had gotten her point across. She clicked her glass with his in a toasting gesture. The evening air was warm, and the company of an attractive man, coupled with the wine, was making her feel tingly inside. She wanted him badly. She had heard stories of black men having enormous dicks and wanted to find out for herself if that was true. She decided to seize the opportunity. And why not? She was on foreign soil and what she did in the States would stay safely in the States.

Mark returned her smile. She seemed to be at ease with him, and he was thrilled. He wasn’t the player type, but when he saw someone he wanted, he wasted no time going after her, and he wanted this French woman badly.

“Tu es très beau. Je vais te baiser,” she told him smiling.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, having no clue what she was saying but mesmerized by the singsong quality of her voice.

Genevieve laughed, amused and aroused that she’d just told a stranger that she found him handsome and wanted to fuck him.

“Yes to whatever you just said,” Mark said, smiling back.

When the bottle was finished, Mark motioned for the waiter and gave him his credit card. Once the bill was paid, he got up and helped Genevieve with her chair. There was a jazz joint around the corner, and he thought he’d take her there.

“Do you like jazz?” he asked.

“Jazz? No,” she answered. “Mais j’aime une grosse bite.” Genevieve bit her lip mischievously, wondering if Mark had any idea that she’d just told him that she didn’t like jazz, but she liked a big dick.

“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed about the jazz and not sure what else she was saying, but if it meant spending time together, he and his cock were game.

Genevieve walked slightly ahead of Mark. She wanted to go back to her hotel. She wasn’t interested in listening to jazz or having drinks. She had something much more exciting in mind. She was meeting Barb later and thought that the three of them could experience New York together.

Mark sensed that she wanted to go elsewhere, so he let her lead the way. Once again the language barrier prevented them from communicating their exact thoughts. They passed several bars and lounges along with way. Obviously, she doesn’t want to stop for a drink, he thought.

Genevieve knew that she was being bold, but being in New York and feeling the electric energy of the city was making her even bolder than normal. Definitely not the wallflower, shy type, Genevieve lived in the moment, and the moment was telling her to follow her thirst and obey her lust. She continued walking, until she came to her hotel. She walked through the doors without looking behind, hoping that Mark was following her every step.

Now that’s what I’m talking about, he thought to himself, as they stepped into the elevator. This night is getting better and better.

When the elevator reached the tenth floor, Genevieve stepped out, made a left and walked down the hall. She stopped at her room, put the keycard in the slot and opened the door.

As soon as the door shut, Genevieve grabbed him to her. “Embrasse-moi, ” she said, translating her words with her mouth. The Frenchwoman began French kissing the black American man, her tongue doing a duet with his. With Genevieve in his arms, he began moving toward the bed.

When they reached the king-size bed, she pushed his chest lightly, indicating that she wanted him to lie down. She then climbed on top and straddled him. His thick lips tasted delicious, and she wanted more.

Mark loved her aggressiveness and didn’t waste any time unbuttoning her blouse and tasting her ample breasts. “Damn, baby, you got some pretty titties,” he said, admiring her breasts.

“Embrasse-moi les nichons,” she said, rubbing her boobs and making kissing sounds with her lips.

“My pleasure!” he said, beginning to pick up a little French. Embrasse-moi apparently meant “kiss me.” Mark buried his head in between her cleavage, kissing one tit and then the other.

“Ohhh,” she said, and began spouting off a string of French words, telling him to suck her tit. “Suce mon sein.”

As Mark was feasting on her rack, he felt someone touch his bald head. He looked up at Genevieve thinking that she was rubbing his globe. “What the…” his words caught in his throat.

“I’m Barb. She left a key for me at the front desk,” explained the beautiful blonde woman. “Bonsoir, Genevieve. Et si on faisait ménage à trois.”

“A threesome! Hell yes! The more the merrier!” Mark said. Finally some French he understood.

“Good,” Barb said, looking Mark up and down.

Not detecting an accent, he asked. “You’re not from France, too, are you?”

She continued rubbing his head, and at the same time began pinching Genevieve’s nipples that had been left unattended. “No, we met over the Internet. I speak a little French, and with the free translation dictionary online, we are able to communicate. We’re both curious about alternative relationships, so when she told me she was coming to New York,” Barb leaned down and kissed Genevieve on the mouth, “I offered to be her tour guide.”

Mark was getting hotter and harder by the moment. He couldn’t believe that he had stumbled into a fucking Penthouse fantasy.

“Take off that dress; you have on too many clothes,” he told Barb.

She stood up, unzipped her slinky black dress and let it fall to the floor. “You like what you see?”

Mark’s jaw nearly dropped as he stared at her naked body. Her boobs were even bigger than Genevieve’s. “What are you, a 38D?” he asked.

“No, sweetie, I’m a 40EE.” She put her hands underneath each breast, and jiggled them. “And they’re all mine!”

“My dick is so hard right now,” he said, unbuckling his belt.

“I hope it stays hard all night.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Mark got up and completely disrobed, as did Genevieve.

“Damn, I don’t know who to fuck first,” he said, looking from one to the other.

Genevieve couldn’t keep her eyes off of his dick. It was twice as long as her fiancé’s and three times as thick. The myth was right, and she couldn’t wait to taste him. “Je peux te sucer?” she said, asking to suck him.

Mark began stroking his shaft. “You want this big dick, Ms. Frenchy?”

“Oui. J’adore une grosse bite,” she said again, eased over to him, and began sucking his cock.

“She likes your big dick,” Barb translated. “That makes two of us.”

While Genevieve was enjoying his chocolate stick, Barb got up, went across the room, picked up a black leather bag and brought it back to the bed.

“What’s that?” he said, in between breaths.

Barb reached inside and took out a mini vibrator. “This is a clit stimulator.” She handed it to him and then lay down with her legs spread wide open.

Mark didn’t ask any more questions. He turned on the tiny device, found Barb’s clit and began teasing it, as Genevieve continued teasing the head of his dick.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it. That’s it!” Barb moaned, already on the verge of cumming.

“Damn, this shit is hot!” he said, looking down at one woman blowing him, while he clit-fucked another. “Okay, baby, that’s good,” he said, running his hands through Genevieve’s raven black hair. He didn’t want to cum so fast, and with the way she was loving on his dick, it wouldn’t be too long before he squirted his load. He turned off the vibrator.

“Why’d you stop?” Barb asked.

“Because I want Genevieve to show you some of her skills. I think she can do a better job than this thing,” he said, tossing the pocket rocket to the floor.

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Barb said, reaching for the other woman. “Bouffe ma chatte.”

Genevieve’s eyes lit up as she smiled and licked her lips. She climbed on top of Barb and wasted no time sucking her huge nipples. She then trailed her tongue down Barb’s chest to her hairy triangle, parted her pussy lips and began feasting on her engorged clit.

Barb grabbed Genevieve’s hair, pushing her face farther into her canal.

“Oh, shit, this is so fucking wicked!” Mark exclaimed. Watching the two women make love was better than any porno flick he had ever seen. His dick was now harder than Chinese arithmetic, and he was ready to fuck! He eased up behind Genevieve while she had Barb’s head. He rubbed her soft ass, and then put his hand underneath until he found her wet box. He parted her buttcheeks and entered her pussy from behind.

Genevieve felt him behind her and stuck her ass out farther so that he could have easier access.

At first he had a hard time trying to penetrate her tight hole, but as soon as the head entered, he slipped inside her with ease and began fucking her slowly, taking his time, enjoying every second.

“Plus fort. Fort!” Genevieve demanded, thrusting harder to make him understand.

“Shit, baby, if harder is what you want, harder is what you’ll get.”

The three of them were now interconnected, with Mark pounding Genevieve’s pussy and Genevieve giving Barb a clit special. The only sounds heard were an Anglo-French mix of erotic ecstasy.

“Don’t shoot your wad, baby. Save some for me,” Barb requested.

Mark pulled out before he came and then said, “Switch positions.”

Barb quickly got up and traded places with Genevieve. She too wanted some of his beef. “I want you to butt-fuck me,” she told him, and then reached into her bag. She took out a tube of lubricant, unscrewed the top and smeared the clear gel on her asshole. After she was finished, Mark took the tube from her and coated his dick with the gooey gel.

“This night keeps getting better and better,” he mused, as he entered Barb’s ass.

“Oh, shit, that hurts so goood!” she screamed out.

Mark fucked her like a man possessed. It wasn’t often that a woman requested a good butt fuck, and tonight, he planned on giving her exactly what she wanted. The fucking was so good that he couldn’t help but cum in her warm ass.

“That was awesome!” Barb then turned to Genevieve. “I’m sorry, babe, for neglecting you,” she told her in French, “but that chocolate dick was just too good to ignore. Come here and let me make it up to you.” Barb reached into her bag of tricks again, took out a large black dildo, lubed it up, and rammed it into Genevieve’s hot box. Since Mark’s equipment was temporarily deflated, she took over and began fucking her like a wild woman.

“Oh, oui, oui,” Genevieve sang out.

Mark watched them go at it and began stroking his dick, trying to resurrect his soldier. He wanted to get back in the game but for now was getting off watching them.

“Is it good to you, baby?” Barb asked, working the vibrator in and out.

“N’arrête pas,” Genevieve replied: “Don’t stop.”

Barb continued until Genevieve’s face twisted in a painfully pleasant expression, indicating that she was cumming hard.

“My turn,” Barb said, wanting some of the ever-ready vibrator.

Genevieve slipped her fingers into Barb’s pussy, making sure it was wet before ramming her with the dildo.

“Fuck me, bitch!” Barb yelled out.

“Prends-lae salope,” she replied, saying “Take this slut.”

Genevieve kept working the wand until Barb screamed out. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. I’m cumming!”

Mark’s eyes were glued to them, as he jacked off. He felt his cream rising to the top, so he got up and stood over the women. As soon as Barb reached the pinnacle, he sprayed them with a stream of hot juicy cum, and then collapsed onto the bed.

Their heated sexcapade had worn them out, and they fell into a deep sleep. Genevieve awoke in the middle of the night and glanced over at her lovers, who were still sound asleep. Her vacation had gotten off to a grand start, and if nothing else exciting happened while she was in the States, that would be okay. She had experienced fucking a black man, and a woman; now she was ready to go back to Paris, get married and start a family.

It was unclear what had possessed her to act with such wild sexual abandon, but she had no regrets. With a satisfied smile on her face, she shrugged her shoulders and thought, Je n’y peux rien, je suis comme ca. “Can’t help the way that I feel.”