The Making of Martine Fornier, Part 1

Info silverhawk
10 Jan. '18

The world is filled with women.  Large women, small women, tiny women, beautiful women and plain women all trod our streets as they go about their daily tasks.  Each is different in some aspects.  Each is the same in most.  Some will live out their lives as doting wives and mothers.  A few will become lovers of other women and enjoy the soft lips and fingertips that take them to the fullness of release.  Fewer still will live their lives alone.

Only a very small fraction of women have the desire to both give and accept great pleasure. Martine is such a woman.  That she is sensuous and desirable, few men would dispute.  That she has desires far beyond most, few will ever know, much less understand.  This is the story of how Martine was awakened to her inner desires, and how she learned to accept and exercise those desires.

I met Martine while observing the art displayed in the Palais Longchamp in Marseille.  I had stopped in front of a Greek work depicting a man and woman in the act of making love.

The woman who came to stand beside me was young.  Her body, or rather the impression I gathered of such, was ripe with the firmness of youth, and the soft curves that promised intense pleasure to one so fortunate to experience her were extremely inviting.  

I am no longer young, though I find the silvering of my hair and beard often attract young women as much as they do women of a more mature age.  Since this girl was so very desirable, I thought it would do no harm to introduce myself.

"It is indeed an unusual work, is it not?"

She turned to me and smiled.

"It is.  I find it to be very erotic."

"Yes, it is erotic.  The Greeks of that time seemed to celebrate making love in their art.  Today, we would take a dim view of any recognized artist painting the same.  I suppose we've become ashamed of our bodies and what beautiful things they can do."

The girl grinned.

"There are parts of me I don't think are very beautiful."

Ah...the girl is not only desirable, she has wit and sense of humor.  She would be perfect, should I be able to make her understand.

"I think you sell yourself short.  Surely the men in your life don't agree."

She shrugged.

"They say I'm pretty, but I think they just want to...well, you know."

I did know.  I wished the same thing, but I also wished for more.  Now was not the time...

We walked together to the next work.  It was a painting of a nude woman carried by two men.  Her legs rested on the shoulders of one and the other held her against his chest.  Both men had erect members, one of which the woman was in the process of caressing.  The other was preparing to enter her.

The girl stared at the painting for a few moments, then looked at me.

"I've thought about being with two men, but I don't think I could do it."

I smiled, but not for the reason she suspected.  I knew if she'd considered the possibility, she wanted the experience though she couldn't let herself admit it.

"You might find it enjoyable, being pleasured by two men."

"Well I suppose I might like it, but how would I...I mean with two..."

"I assure you there are many ways.  Were you older, I could explain, but you're so very young and probably couldn't understand."

She straightened her stance and her breasts rose seductively.  Oh, to take her right now, right here and demonstrate my thoughts, but there would be time, later.  The look of pride on her face and the tone of her voice assured me of that.

"I'm older than I look.  I'm twenty.  I already know more than you think I do."

I spread my hands in front of me.

"Perhaps I have misjudged you.  Would you allow me to apologize by accompanying me to dinner tonight?  It's the least I can do."

"I don't even know your name."

"I'm Roget, Roget Lambert.  And who is the beautiful woman who will dine with me tonight?"

"My name is Martine Fornier, and I haven't said I would."

"You have not said you would not accompany me either, which leads me to believe you will.  Do you know Peron...on the Corniche?  I have a reservation there tonight.  I will wait outside until eight, at which time I hope to be paying the taxi driver for bringing you to join me.  If you are not there, I will go inside and sample the scallops, alone.   Unfortunately, I must now bid you au revoir, for I have business that calls me."

With that, I walked away from Martine, though I hoped to see her again that night.

At six minutes before eight, Martine stepped from the taxi and smiled at me.  I paid the fare and included a generous gratuity, then offered Martine my arm.  We were soon seated at a table overlooking the cliffs and sea rolling gently below.  There is nothing of importance to tell about our dinner.  Martine was beautiful in her sleek black dress, and a perfect lady who drew many stares from the men in the restaurant.  Their wives were equally impressed, as witnessed by the stern faces they turned to their husbands.  We finished the last of an excellent white wine over a small, shared plate of cheese.  I did not wish her to leave me.

"Martine, would you enjoy an evening cocktail?  I know of a small place, Liaison is the name.  It is quiet and a good place to talk, perhaps over some Courvosier."

The taxi stopped in front of the nondescript building most would have dismissed as empty.  It was very much occupied, though my friend Jaques did not advertise it as such.  The music of before the war played softly in the background as a middle-aged woman seated us at a table in front of a small, curtained stage.  I knew the woman to be Desirae, Jaques' wife.  A moment later, she placed our Courvosier on the table.  When she had stopped at another table, I touched Martine on the shoulder.

"Martine, there is an entertainment in about an hour if you'd like to stay to see it."

"A band?"

"No...the entertainment is of ...shall we say...of an intimate nature.  If you would be embarrassed to watch a man and woman...together...I would understand.  As I said before, you are very young and I would never expose you to something that you wouldn't enjoy."

The result was as I'd hoped.

"I would like to stay and I will not be embarrassed."

She giggled.

"Will they be naked?"

"As naked as you on the day you were born."

Desirae brought two more snifters of the golden nectar I cherish and winked before walking away.  She understood, as she always did.  This time would be erotic, but not too much for Martine to absorb.

At the hour, the curtains were drawn, revealing a low platform with padding and a plain white sheet.  Moments later, Desirae and a young man walked from the rear to stand in front of the platform.  Both wore simple robes tied at the waist by a belt.  They turned to face each other.

Desirae touched the young man's belt, then loosened it and slipped if off his broad shoulders.  As it fell to the floor, I heard Martine gasp.  She had reason to do so.  The young man had the muscles of one who does hard physical work and a cock of remarkable proportions.

Desirae let her hand fall to the young man's cock, and slowly stroked it as he loosened the belt of her robe.  Though I'd seen and fondled Desirae's body before, when her robe fell away, I had the same stirring in my loins.

The young man kissed Desirae as his hands fondled her breasts and full bottom.  Desirae's hand continued to stroke his swelling cock, and when their lips separated, it was standing erect.  

I looked at Martine.  Her eyes were wide open as she stared at the stage, and I thought I could see the outline of her nipples against the fabric of her dress.  They had not been there before.  Martine was becoming aroused by the sight before us.

The man let one hand caress Desirae's flank, then stroked her hip, then moved to allow his hand to stroke the curve of her belly.  Down went his hand, caressing her lower belly, then her mound, and finally disappearing between her thighs.  Desirae's hand moved over his cock a little faster.

Desirae's moan, though quiet, caused Martine to stir in her chair.  I touched her shoulder.

"Martine, are you...is this something you want to continue watching?  If not, I will call a taxi."

Her voice was soft and low.

"No, I...I want to stay."

The man eased Desirae back onto the platform and spread her thighs wide, then stroked the satin skin from her knees to the pouting lips with a sparse covering of light reddish curls.  His fingers spread those lips, revealing Desirae's long, slender inner lips glistening with wetness.  He knelt in front of her and nibbled up Desirae's left thigh, then pressed his face into the hollow of her sex.  Desirae moaned and, with her hands on the back of his head, pulled his face closer.  The room was filled with the quiet, liquid sounds of his tongue lapping at Desirae's lips and clit and the heavy breathing of the other couples in the room.

Martine was breathing deeply too, and I watched as her thighs moved slightly together, then apart.  She probably didn't realize she was caressing her own breast.

The man had slipped his arms under Desirae's thighs and was rolling and pulling on her large nipples.  I heard Martine gasp when he lifted her breasts by those nipples and they were transformed from soft mounds on her chest into long cones.  The man gently shook his hands and the cones began to ripple.  Desirae moaned,  "Ahhhh...oui...que faire à nouveau."

The man's head began bobbing up and down between Desirae's thighs as he shook his hands again.  We watched as Desirae began to lift her hips off the platform.  She shuddered, then arched into the man's face.  With a cry of "Je suis là", Desirae's hips began to rock uncontrollably against the man's face. She arched high again, then fell back to the platform.  The man rose, sat beside her and helped her sit up.

Desirae's face was one of serenity though she was still breathing heavily.  I believe Martine saw the contractions that pulled Desirae's swollen lips in closer to her body and then pushed them back out.  I believe this because I watched as Martine's hand caressed her own thigh and moved ever closer to her tight belly.

Desirae, wrapped her slender fingers around the man's stiff cock and stroked for a moment.  She then leaned over, rolled his foreskin back and engulfed the swollen head in her mouth.  The man groaned when she pushed her mouth down, then sucked in her cheeks and slowly pulled back up.

I knew that feeling.  Desirae would take him to the point of exploding in her mouth and then stop him by squeezing the base of his throbbing organ.  She did as I expected, three times, then laid him back on the platform and straddled his body.  With her slender fingers, she guided the swollen head between her wet lips, then slowly impaled herself.

Desirae began to ride his large cock, and with every stroke, her hips tightened as she thrust forward to drive that cock deeper.  From our angle to the stage, we could not see him lift her breasts and pinch her nipples.  We didn't have to see.  Desirae ground her swollen lips into the base of his cock with every stroke when he did.  She was panting and murmuring sounds as she rode him.  All that was needed now was...

The man stroked Desirae's hip, then over and between her stretched lips.   Desirae reached behind her and spread her cheeks.  The man's glistening fingertip lightly stroked the tight little dark circle between them then pushed in gently.

Desirae shook as the leaves of a tree in a summer storm.  The speed of her strokes over the man's cock increased, then increased again as the first joint of his finger slipped through the ring of muscle.  She shrieked, then her head flew back as the man began to stroke his finger in and out.

In seconds, Desirae began to quiver, then shake, then shudder as the orgasm spread through her.  The man was not far behind.  I watched as his balls tightened and he thrust up.  There was no mistaking the straining of his muscles as the seed raced through his cock and inside Desirae.  She shrieked again and pressed her sex into his thrust.  His hips tightened again, then again, then yet again.  

Desirae slumped into her arms and her chest was heaving.  The man's cock slipped from her dark pink, swollen lips and fell to his thigh.  A stream of white fluid first flowed, then dripped from Desirae's gaping sex.

The curtain closed them and I glanced at Martine.  Her dress was wrinkled at the spot between her thighs, and she was breathing nearly as heavily as had been Desirae.  I leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Was that not beautiful?"

"What?"

"I asked if you thought they were beautiful."

"Yes...and exciting."

"I believe the others found it exciting too.  Look around you, Martine."

She gasped.

"They're...they're..."

"Yes.  This is a private club.  People come here to watch, and then to do what they feel like doing."

"I could never..."

"You don't have to, Martine.  No one here is forced to do anything they don't wish to do, and no one will stop them from doing anything they enjoy."

"You'd like me to, though, wouldn't you?  That's why you brought me here."

"I brought you here to show you there is more to pleasure than what you know, and that pleasure in all forms is a beautiful thing to watch...and to experience.  If you agreed, yes, I would enjoy showing you, but if not we can leave."

"I think I should leave."

Martine was quiet as the taxi drove to her apartment.  I stepped out with her and walked her to the door.  In the light above the steps, she smiled.

"I did have a nice time tonight.  I just couldn't..."

"I understand.  Perhaps one day, perhaps never.  I will not force you to do anything.  I would enjoy your company again tomorrow evening, if you're willing."

"Would we go back to Liaison again?"

"If you like.  Desirae will have a different partner tomorrow.  Shall we say eight again, at...do you like currry?  Excellent.  Jaipur it will be then."

The taxi dropped us at Liaison a little before eleven, and Desirae smiled as she seated us.  When she brought our drinks, she whispered something to Martine.  Martine chuckled.  I asked her what Desirae had said.

"She said last night, she saw me...saw me touching myself from the stage, and she said tonight I should let you do that for me."

"Desirae is very wise, I think."

"I don't know.  I mean, the other people...

"Martine, the other people are only interested in each other.  No one would be watching."

Just then the curtains opened and Desirae walked on stage by herself.  She walked around the edge of the stage, then stopped in front of the couple beside us.  The man shook his head, and Desirae continued her travels.  Two tables away from us she stopped again.  The man at the table stood and walked to the steps at the side of the stage.

I leaned down to whisper to Martine.

"I know Henri.  Tonight will be special.  I doubt you've ever seen it before."

"What...what will they do?'

"Patience, my dear Martine.  You must have patience."

Henri disrobed and took Desirae in his arms.  Their kiss was passionate and long, and I could see both their tongues intertwine as Desirae's parted lips caressed his.  His hand untied the belt of her robe and slipped it from her shoulders, then went immediately to the dark curls between her thighs.  Desirae spread her thighs to allow him access, and we soon heard the wet sounds of his fingers stroking in and out of her.

Henri turned Desirae around and helped her lean over the platform, then gently pressed on her inner thighs until they were spread wide.  He walked to the side of the stage and picked up a small bottle from the table there, then resumed sliding his fingers in and out of Desirae's entrance.  In minutes her hips writhed with each stroke, and her chest was heaving.  I looked at Martine.  She was caressing her breasts again, and had one hand sliding her short skirt even higher.  I gently placed my hand on her knee, then stroked lightly up to the hem of the skirt.  Martine looked up at me.  Her eyes were deep pools that burned with desire.  She smiled, and nodded her head slowly.  My hand probed under the skirt until I touched soft bare lips.  I looked back at her.  She smiled again, then touched my cheek and pulled my face to hers.  

She tried to do as Desirae was, and succeeded very well.  As I began stroking her soft lips, Martine kissed me again and leaned into my chest.  It was a simple matter to put my arm around her and slide my hand under the front of her blouse and into her bra.  The breast I stroked was as firm as I'd thought, and the nipple, large and swollen.  Martine gasped when I lightly pinched the stiff nub.

Desirae was close to her peak when Henri slipped out his fingers and picked up the bottle.  As if reading his thoughts, she reached behind her and spread her cheeks wide.  A thin stream of clear liquid flowed from the bottle down the separation between those cheeks.  Henri caught it just before it dripped from Desirae's swollen lips to the floor, and began massaging the small dark wrinkled circle just above them.  

Desirae shivered as Henri's fingertip slipped inside the tight little wrinkles.  She spread her legs a little further and dropped her belly a little more.  Henri's finger disappeared up to his hand, then began stroking slowly in and out.

Martine had inhaled sharply when Henri's finger slipped into Desirae.  She slowly exhaled then moaned as my fingertip found her clit and slowly rubbed beside it.  I lightly pinched her nipple again and felt her fingers stroking the front of my slacks.

Just then Desirae groaned.  Henri had slipped another finger into her beside the first.  She pushed her hips back as he stroked them in, and shuddered when he slipped them out.  Henri added more of the clear liquid, then tried to slide a third finger in also.  

Desirae began to pant rapidly, "ha-uh-ha-uh-ha-uh" as Henri worked the third finger past the tight muscle and then began stroking.   I saw Desirae's fingers separate her wet lips and plunge inside her, then begin rubbing at the top of her slit.  I moved my own finger to the top of Martine's lips and stroked gently.  I felt her lips on my cheek, and turned to meet her kiss.

Desirae was still panting when Henri let his fingers slip from her.  I knew what was going to happen next, and whispered to Martine, "Watch".

Henri applied a generous amount of the clear liquid to the head of his cock and used his palm to spread it from there to his shaft.  He positioned his cock head at the slightly open ring of muscle and pushed firmly.  Desirae began to pant again, but pushed back into the pressure.  The head of Henri's cock slipped in and then stopped.  He pulled it back out, applied more liquid and tried again.  This time, it went in a little further and he began stroking.  From time to time, he would trickle the liquid from the bottle down the separation of Desirae's spread cheeks, let it flow around his cock, and then push a little harder with the next thrust.  His belly was soon pressing tightly against Desirae's cheeks with every slow stroke.

Martine was very close, I thought.  I knew I needed to slow down until the right moment, and moved my hand down.  Martine eased down in her chair and spread her thighs wider.  As my finger slipped inside her she moaned and squeezed the hand that cupped her breast.  I did as she wished and fondled her firm breast then squeezed it gently.  She began to lift her hips each time my finger stroked deep into her passage.

Desirae was shaking and moaning as Henri stroked his cock in her.  There was sound, but no words.  I knew she was very close.  Her fingertips were a blur as she flicked them over her clit and when Henri pinched her nipples and pulled them down, Desirae erupted with a cry and by driving her hips back over Henri's cock.  His hips tensed once, then twice, then a third time as he spent his seed.

It was Martine's time now.  I gently pinched her rigid nipple as my fingertip slipped under her clit and stroked rapidly.  She went stiff and arched up off her chair, then put her arms around my neck.

"Roget...Oh...oh...oh ..now."

I held her until the tightening around my fingers stopped, then kissed her.

The curtains had been drawn sometime before.  I saw Desirae, back in her robe, and walking toward our table.  She stopped beside Martine and smiled as she brushed the hair from Martine's forehead.

"You let Roget help you, no?"

"Yes...he did."

"Mmmm.  I'm jealous.  Perhaps one day, you will join me on the stage...just the two of us?"

"I don't ...I mean, I'm not.."

"Of course you aren't, Martine.  Neither am I, but another woman is...more gentle.  We shall see what we shall see. Did you enjoy Henri and I?"

"I didn't know it could be like that...I mean...where he..."

Desirae smiled.

"Henri is a very special man.  He's very good at that, and I'm always carried away.  You should try it sometime."

"I don't know Henri."

"But you do know Roget.  He taught Henri."

On the way back to her apartment, Martine was quiet again, though I did not know why.  I knew she had enjoyed both the performance and the climax she'd reached.  Perhaps she was embarrassed and having second thoughts.

I walked her to her door again.  Before she opened it, she turned and looked into my eyes.

"Did Desirae really have an orgasm, or was that just part of the show?"

"Martine, at this club there are no "shows" as you might know them.  What happens is what happens.  Desirae said Henri is a special man, but she is the special one.  Yes, what you saw was only her, doing as her body dictated, nothing more, nothing less."

"It looked like he was holding her up at the last."

"When the pleasure is so intense, sometime it is difficult to concentrate on anything else, including standing up."

"Did you really teach Henri?

"Yes, I did, a few years ago."

"Then, you could make me feel like Desirae felt tonight?"

"If you're willing to trust me and relax, I think so."

I paid the taxi driver and walked back to Martine.  She kissed me, then took my hand and led me through the door.

As I lay beside her, stroking her inner thighs, Martine was trembling.  She pulled my face to her breasts and whispered, "I don't know what I should do."

"You should do as you did tonight.  You should relax and let the sensations take you where they will.  I will be very gentle.  Just let me take you to the place you saw Desirae go tonight."

I closed my lips on her left nipple and sucked gently as my fingertip traced the separation of her lips.  Martine still trembled a little, but opened her thighs at my touch.  I knew her now, a little, and lightly stroked her rippled inner lips as I sucked a little harder on the stiffening nipple in my mouth.  Martine's lips grew wetter and she began to relax.

After capturing her other nipple with my mouth, I rolled it between my lips until it stiffened, then pinched gently with my lips over my teeth.  Martine's little moan was all I required to go further.  Gently I worked my fingertip toward her entrance, then slipped it inside her.  She was snug, but very wet now and my finger was joined by a second.  They barely fit through the tight ring just behind her swelling lips and I gently stroked them in and out while my thumb searched for her clit.  The little button was taut with desire and when I brushed it with my thumb, Martine arched up into my hand.  

I nuzzled her firm breast and then whispered, "Martine, turn over and put your knees under you.  It will make it easier for you this time."

As Martine did as I'd asked, I picked up the bottle of hand lotion she'd brought from her bath.  Then, kneeling behind her, I pressed the button on top and let a generous amount flow into my palm.  As it warmed to the heat of my body, I inserted two fingers into Martine's passage again and slowly stroked.

I did not ask that she open herself for me, but Martine remembered.  When I turned to apply the creamy lotion, I saw she had spread her soft cheeks.  In the dim light of the table lamp I saw the virginity I was about to pierce, and the woman I was about to awaken.  The white liquid flowed easily to my fingertips and thence to the tight wrinkled circle that was my goal.

Ever so gently I began to stroke the area, not pushing, just feeling for the easing of tension that would tell me Martine was comfortable with this unusual caress and was relaxing.  Several minutes and another application of the lotion passed before I felt the first easing of her muscle.  Then, with even more care than before, I pressed the center.  The tightness came back, and I resumed my careful massage.  Three times I attempted to penetrate the portal before Martine sighed and my fingertip slipped in.

I began massaging her clit again as I worked my little finger into the tight ring.  Martine shivered slightly when it slipped inside her, but there was no tension now.  She moaned when my little finger slipped past the knuckle, and moaned again when I slipped it out and replaced it with my index finger.

Over the course of the next several minutes, I took Martine to the point of release as I worked my index finger then my middle finger through her tightness.  At last, she was open enough for the middle finger to slip in up to my hand.  I applied more of the lotion, and started working a second finger in beside the first.  Martine began to pant, then murmured, "Are you going to put it in now?"

"Soon, not yet, but soon."

After two fingers, I knew she was relaxed enough for three and quickly applied more lotion. As I pressed it in beside the other two,  Martine cried out at the sudden increase in pressure, but she didn't tighten again.  I knew the cry was one of pleasure.  As I stroked my fingers in and out slowly and traced the outline of her swollen clit, Martine began to push back into my hand.  The time had come.

Quickly, I applied the lotion to my engorged cock, then more to the slightly open portal.  As I pushed my cock into the tight ring of muscle, Martine whimpered, then gasped as the head of my cock slipped past. I pulled back out and applied more lotion.  As I pushed in again with my cock, I slipped my arm around her waist and felt for her clit.  I was stroking the wet little button when the head of my cock slipped through her tightness again.  Martine groaned and pushed back against me, and my cock slipped in another few centimeters.

By now, Martine was trying to impale herself, but I knew better.   After several more times, she would be able to accept me without so much lubrication, but I had no desire to hurt her when I took her prize.  Several minutes of gentle pushing were required before my belly rested against her hips.  I began to stroke slowly in and out.

I was not concerned about myself, this first time.  I merely wanted Martine to enjoy the unknown sensations to their ultimate climax.  As I stroked, I fluttered my fingertip over, under and around her throbbing button and the result was as I had anticipated.  Martine sighed, then moaned and began pushing into my strokes again.  

A moment later, I felt her body stiffen and begin to press back firmly.  The little cry was only the beginning.  Martine began to shake uncontrollably.  Her voice was a babble of sounds that all ran into each other and spilled from her lips.  I felt her begin to slide down to the mattress, and used my free hand to hold her in position.

The speed of my strokes increased to match the rhythm of her hips, and only a few seconds later, Martine cried out and dropped her back, driving my cock deeper inside her.  She cried out again, then sagged into her arms.  

I could not stop my body from reacting to her cries.  Semen raced through my cock and erupted deep inside Martine, again and again.  When I could stroke no more, I gently lowered us both to the mattress.  My cock slowly softened and then slipped from Martine's body.

"Is it always like this?", Martine murmured.

"No.  As you learn to relax more, the pleasure becomes more intense."

"I'm not sure I could take anything more intense."

I chuckled.

"You have not yet been with two or more men."

Her voice was a little higher in pitch.

"More than two?"

"Yes, my dear Martine, but all in good time."

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