Mary Felix in the South of France

Cap Ferrat, South of France, May 1903.

The last rays of the setting sun still showed above the dark line of the sea's horizon, but in the woods that lined the hilly coast, twilight had turned to night and the scent of pine drifted through the trees as the hiss of small waves sounded on the rocky shoreline.

Half way up the steep slope that overlooked the bay, a cluster of lights showed in the warm darkness. Conversation and the occasional ripple of laughter were coming from an elegant terrace embedded in the shadowy pine trees. Behind the terrace a short flight of steps led upwards to manicured lawns, from where the dark outline of the gabled, turreted, Hotel Les Pines was just visible in the gloom. To the left a path ran downwards through the trees until it reached a small bathing platform, where in summer guests at the hotel could enjoy the cooling waters of the Bay of Nice.

Of the four tables on the terrace, only one was occupied. Lighted by a fine candelabra three people, a couple, and a single woman, were in the final stages of their dinner. They turned and looked as a waiter appeared on the steps carrying a tray laden with cheese and fruit. He placed the food on the table and with a smile and brief nod of acknowledgement to the diners headed back towards the hotel building.

The married couple were the hotel owners, Charles and Candice Bisset. Madame was aged fifty and still in her prime. An extremely attractive woman with a fine figure and soft brown eyes, her chestnut coloured hair was piled high and she wore an elegant russet coloured evening gown that seemed to glow in the candlelight. Discrete diamonds glittered at her neck and ears, and when she smiled the creases at the corner of her eyes only served to emphasise her elegance and character.

She was in fact the epitome of that combination of experience, promise and restrained eroticism, that is curiously and uniquely the preserve of the French Madame of a certain age.

Her husband Charles was a few years younger. His thick black hair was lightly oiled and brushed straight back from his forehead allowing the clean angles on his tanned and handsome face to be picked out by the candlelight. Even sitting down it was clear he was a powerful man, and when he shifted in his chair to pour some more wine, there was an economy to his movements that is the mark of a natural athlete.

The third person at the table was a twenty year old Englishwoman. Her name was Mary Felix and Madame Bisset had decided that she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Her hair was almost black, with a slight wave and cut in an unfashionably short style that left her graceful neck exposed and emphasised her luminous green eyes to great effect. From every angle the candlelight served only to compliment her perfect face and full lips, and the older woman found herself content to just observe for a moment, as she watched her converse with Monsieur Bisset in reasonable French.

The demure young woman had arrived by taxi cab from Nice station earlier that afternoon and asked for a room for two nights, explaining that she was on holiday in the south of France to improve her French, and intended to travel on to Menton later that week.

As it was May and therefore the end of the winter season for, 'les Anglais,' the hotel was only half full, and they were happy to accommodate their adventurous solo traveler in the best room they had.

Indeed, after one look at her, Monsieur Bisset bristling with masculine French concern at her solitary status had insisted that she join them for dinner on the terrace.

Whilst it was true that the girl was on holiday, they both would have been surprised to learn that the wide-brimmed hat that she had worn for her arrival was secured with a sharp and curiously robust hatpin, some five inches long. The flat coin-like flange at one end was designed to allow it to be pushed firmly into the body with the palm.

'Into the arm or leg will distract them, into the eye or ear will kill them,' a certain Mr Portman had advised the girl the previous year. Their surprise would have grown, had they also been aware that a lady's Deringer two shot .22 calibre pistol nestled in the bottom of the expensive leather handbag she carried. The girl was capable of putting both bullets from this diminutive weapon into a two-inch bull from ten paces in five seconds, her skills also coming courtesy of the estimable Mr Portman.

Madame Bisset smiled quietly to herself as she listened. She imagined that the girl was quite used to men being charming, and much more, and wondered if she ever allowed herself to succumb. On balance she thought she probably did. Certainly, she would have her pick of the opposite sex. She really was exquisite in every way she mused, and yet hers was not the beauty of an ice maiden. The girl had an earthy vulnerability about her too. It was easy to imagine her face wreathed in passion as she gave and received pleasure in the bedroom.

She allowed her mind to drift off in a deliciously stimulating direction for some moments before re-joining the conversation.

Much later, in the privacy of their bedroom, she and her husband had a quiet discussion between themselves on a matter that they both found so enticing that, when things had been decided, he was obliged to open his robe and display his hard cock to her.

'My word Charles,' she giggled, 'that is very tempting, but let us wait until tomorrow and see what happens my darling.' With that she reached out and caressed the shaft gently for a moment. 'Tomorrow,' she whispered.

The following evening the dining scene was re-enacted and once again Miss Felix's beauty and charm delighted the older French couple. The English girl, experienced seductress that she was, recognised an excitement and animation to the pair that was familiar to her. So it was no surprise when, as they wished each other good night in the main hall of the hotel, Madame Bisset drew her to one side and spoke quietly into her ear.

'Miss Felix, my husband and I have a fine balcony leading off our bedroom. We sometimes enjoy a nightcap in our bed robes before retiring and we would be pleased if you would join us. It is such a pleasant night, and the view of the Bay is quite delightful.'

The girl smiled with pleasure at this invitation and said that would be lovely. She took the French woman's hand in hers as she said this and gave her a look of such smouldering intensity that Madame Bisset almost swooned on the spot. Using all her experience she gathered herself and smiled back.

'In fifteen minutes then. At the end of the corridor, to the right.' Then she turned and slowly climbed the graceful sweep of the stairs, her buttocks moving smoothly under her expensive, close-fitting dress.

Alphonse the experienced and discrete night manager silently observed this exchange from his position behind the reception counter and permitted himself a small smile. He knew well enough that, from time to time, Madame and Monsieur were amenable to a dalliance with attractive and discerning guests, with whom there would be no complications. Miss Felix met the bill in every respect and as he watched her climb the curving stairs he felt a strong pang of envy. He loved his wife of course, but to see her naked, to take her, would be beyond the wildest dreams of any man.

A quarter of an hour later, Miss Felix knocked quietly on the double doors of the owner's suite and was admitted by a smiling Monsieur Bisset. She was wearing a glorious red and green Chinese silk robe which set off her colouring perfectly, and nothing else. Although she did not yet know it, the French couple were similarly attired.

'Mademoiselle Felix we are delighted that you have joined us. Perhaps we could dispense with the formalities now, especially as we are so,' he gestured at his robe and met her eyes before adding, 'informal. Please call me Charles.'

'And I am Mary,' said the girl, smiling at him in a way that made his heart beat faster. Somehow she managed to be both prey and predator at the same time and it was both bewildering and intoxicating, he thought.

As he looked at her he noticed that her robe was open for a long way and the deep valley of her breasts was complemented by the clear outline of her nipples through the material. He stood for a moment, simply gazing at her and she smiled back impishly, raising her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

'You are exquisite Mary, utterly exquisite,' he said quietly and seriously.

'Thank-you Charles,' she replied in the same tone and gently touched his hand.

Thus an understanding was reached.

'Mary, come through here.' Candice was standing at open French windows that gave onto a wide balcony and holding two flutes of champagne. Charles led her though a beautifully decorated bedroom which was dominated by a large double bed with the covers turned down on both sides. A single red shaded bedside light threw an intimate glow across the counterpane.

'Thank-you.' Mary took the proffered glass. In contrast to her husband's dark silk dressing gown she noticed that Mrs Bisset was wearing a white and gold creation that was so sheer it flowed over her like water. 'What a beautiful robe Candice.'

The older woman smiled her thanks and taking her hand escorted her over to the balcony rail. Below and to their right Mary could see the edge of the terrace where they had dined, but it was the breath-taking view across the Bay of Nice that took the eye. A three-quarter moon had risen above the dark sea and its glittering reflection seemed to lead straight towards the three figures. In the distance the lights of Nice shone on the Promenade des Anglais and the sound of cicadas drifted up from the thick woods below the hotel.

'My word, this is quite beautiful. How much you must enjoy living here.'

'We are lucky Mary, but the truth is we have worked for it. Worked hard for very many years.' Candice gestured to a chair and the three of them sat down.

'Evenings like this feel like a reward for all our efforts, especially when we can spend them in such delightful company'.

'You are very kind to invite me into your private rooms. I feel honored.'

'Well we are in a convivial mood Mary and it is always a pleasure to share such moments,' Charles replied.

The relaxed conversation continued most pleasantly for some twenty minutes as the bottle of champagne was emptied. Then the French woman caught Mary's eye and smiled naughtily.

'The wine has put me in a romantic mood Mary. Would you think me very rude if I kissed my husband in your presence?'

'Of course not Candice, we are in France after all,' the Englishwoman replied smiling back.

'Then I shall indulge myself.' She stood up, as did Charles, and they embraced and kissed long and passionately. Mary watched, smiling gently. At last Candice gently pushed her muscular husband away, breathing rather heavily, but still managing to give him a discrete squeeze down below Mary noticed.

'Enough my darling, we do not want matters to run away with themselves.'

'Don't worry on my account,' the younger woman said, 'I am just sorry that I do not have a beau to kiss myself, on such a romantic evening'.

'Well I am sure that dear Charles would oblige. I will give you both permission just this once.'

In the light from the moon Mary could see that her sensitive eyes were brimming with interest. They reminded her of Georgina a little she realized. She looked at the tall and elegant Frenchman. 'Would you Charles? Would that be alright?'

His answer was to reach down for her hand and gently raise her to a standing position. He met her eyes and smiled warmly. 'I love my wife and she loves me. But to kiss a woman such as you on a moonlit balcony on a warm Mediterranean night? That would be joyous indeed.'

Without saying another word the young Englishwoman reached up, put her arms around his neck and raised her lips. Within a few seconds their tongues were gently probing, and she gave a low moan as she took him into her mouth and her body moulded itself to his. She felt his cock stiffen against her belly through the thin silk and pressed harder, her head swimming with sudden passion.

After some time Mrs Bisset quietly cleared her throat and they reluctantly parted. Charles clutched at his dressing gown to conceal his arousal and smiled a little ruefully.

'Sorry my dear. I fear we were in danger of losing ourselves in the moment.'

'So I see.' Although his wife did not seem at all disturbed by this observation and continued speaking as her husband resumed his seat. 'Well Mary, we seem to be the only two people on this balcony who have not kissed each other. What do you think about that?'

For a long moment the two beautiful women looked at each other, the older exuding a beguiling desirability full of character and warm experience, the younger filling the night with a dark sensuality.

'I can suggest a remedy to that Candice,' said Mary.

'Bravo,' said Charles quietly from his seat.

'What a delightful idea my dear,' said the older woman and took her hand as they gently drew together. Just before they embraced, Charles saw his wife pull at the belt of her robe. It swung open to reveal her naked form, and then the two women were kissing. They started slowly, gently exploring, but as their passion built their mouths opened and their tongues entwined.

Charles leaned back and observed them from the chair, the back of his fingers to his lips, his cock rock hard beneath his dressing gown. From his position he could see that Mary had her hands inside his wife's robe and was pulling gently on her nipples as their mouths worked. He smiled to himself. His wife's instincts had been correct. Any concerns he had had about the English girl's attitude towards Candice seemed to be unfounded. Indeed, as he watched, she pushed the white and gold robe off his wife's shoulders and applied her mouth to that area just below the ear that makes any woman tremble.

Deeply aroused by the sight, he watched spellbound as his wife gasped and bent her head to the side, allowing Mary full access. The brunette's hand slowly slid down her belly and into her groin and began to gently probe and stroke.

'Mary my darling. Let us go inside,' the older woman finally managed to say and they reluctantly parted. Standing naked and confident of her beauty, she turned to look at her husband and smiled, their eyes meeting in mutual recognition of the pleasures to come. 'Are you enjoying the show Charles?'

'A little my dear, I must admit.' The Frenchman smiled a lazy smile, then slowly parted his dressing gown and displayed himself to the women. For one so young, the girl had seen many hard cocks. The Frenchman's was of the first order. Long, smooth and circumcised, his heavy balls high and tight below. She licked her lips.

Candice looked at Mary and raised her eyebrows. 'The bedroom I think Mary,' before someone calls the gendarmes. You never know who is in the woods at night.'

She led her inside and Charles stood up and followed, his cock jerking jauntily as he threw off his robe and reclined next to his pale, naked, wife on the silk coverlet.

The Englishwoman stood next to the bed for a moment and admired them both.

Candice's figure was still superb. Her small, pert, breasts were crowned with bright pink nipples that remained erect from the attention they had received during their kiss. Her belly had the graceful rise of the older woman, with a neatly trimmed dark brown thatch below, and her thighs and calves were in perfect proportion.

As she had suspected, Charles had the body of an athlete. Tanned and toned, the muscles and sinews in his arms and chest showed individually as he shifted on the bed and reached for a pillow.

'Here we are then,' she said, and with smile she pulled the belt of her robe open and shrugged it off backwards. As it fell to the floor behind her, both Charles and Candice gasped in surprise.

Her skin had the faintest of natural tans and the sheer stunning beauty of the naked woman was almost overpowering in the gentle glow of the lamp. Her high, full, breasts were capped with big, dark brown nipples, and her glorious body was lush and flawless.

But that was not all. The tail of a brightly colored tattoo of a serpent commenced under her left breast before disappearing under her arm to reappear on the other side of her ribs. From there it prescribed a bold loop around her tummy button before reaching down into her groin. From the carefully crafted head a black forked tongue reached further downwards, ending less than an inch above her neat cleft. All her hair had been shaved away, leaving the lips plump and bare and a surprisingly large clitty peeped shyly out from their summit, like a pink thimble.

'Mon Dieu.' The Frenchman breathed out slowly, his cock straining as he stared.

'Come and lie between us ma Cherie,' said Candice. 'I believe perhaps you have a story to tell, but before we hear it I think we all have more pressing needs.

With a smile the English girl climbed onto the bed and slid between them, lying flat on her back. As Charles leaned over and kissed her, she felt Candice's warm mouth engulf her nipple, her tongue and teeth gently stimulating it to full arousal.

The Frenchman shivered as her hand found his cock and began to stroke it. Then reaching down with her other hand, she caressed the older woman's belly before pushing deeper towards her soft curls. Candice released her nipple for a moment and met her eyes and smiled.

'Ah yes my darling,' she whispered and raised her leg a little to accommodate these explorations, as her own hand slid into the English girl's groin. They continued in this delightful fashion for some time, gentle sighs and gasps sounding in the still night air. Then Charles disengaged from her mouth and spoke quietly.

'Lie up on the pillows Mary, and part your legs.' She complied and with a look that spoke volumes he moved smoothly down the bed to lie between them. Moments later his agile tongue was at her cunny.

The girl cried out with pleasure as he went to work, her eyes closing as she leaned back onto the pillows.

'He is very good at that,' whispered his wife as she planted a series of sweet, soft, kisses on the girl's neck. Then with a sigh she raised her mouth and gave her the long, deep, and head-swimming kiss of an experienced and fully aroused, mature woman.

The English girl responded eagerly and then spent, quickly and at length, her tongue deep in Madame Bisset's mouth as her moans filled the room and her hips bucked and thrust under the attentions of the Frenchman.

Slowly the crisis passed and their mouths parted and, as she looked down at her extraordinary green eyes, Madame Bisset knew what she wanted to see.

'Fuck her now Charles my darling. I will watch.'

Grunting his agreement the Frenchman knelt up between Mary's spread thighs, the arch of his stiff cock fully on display to the women. Without speaking, the English girl reached out and grasped the long shaft, slowly pumping it a couple of times before pulling him forwards and raising her hips.

They both cried out in ecstasy as he slid in and then settled into a slow and steady rhythm. An experienced man taking his time and aiming to make it last. His wife knelt and watched, her eyes glittering with arousal and her hand busy between her splayed thighs, openly pleasuring herself.

But much as tried to hold on, the excitement of the moment was simply too powerful for Charles and he began to speed up, his moans of pleasure becoming increasingly frantic as his climax approached. The girl threw her hands behind her head, grasped the brass bedhead rails and sneered at him her face contorted with passion.

'Go on then. Fuck me Charles. Let me have it all,' she gasped, the first words of English she had used for twelve days emerging spontaneously as she pushed up onto him. And with a great roar he let go, pumping spurt after spurt deep into her, the muscles in his shoulders showing like corded steel as he took her. She locked her lips onto his as she came with him, hips bucking and grunting with passion, her measured poise from the early evening long gone.