I looked up, and she was standing her legs either side of me. Then she started gently brushing her pussy against my face, not hard at all, but letting...me smell her juices. I knew what she was building up to, but she was making herself even hornier first. The smell of her pussy juices got stronger and stronger. "Play with your cock..." she moaned. "I love seeing a guy wank...". I needed no more encouragement, and started gently squeezing my bellend until it was purple and twitching. I could feel. It was her own naïveté that drew the jaded of the French elite, like wolves circling their prey. Her own sense of invincibility that flooded her with their warm looks and the interest that gleamed in narrowed eyes, her own curiosity that would inevitably become her downfall. ~~She hops out of the warmth of the Citroen, hesitant to approach the massive, iron bound door before her, the car and driver already slowly moving away. It opens before she can even raise her hand, the houseman, formally. More

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