Pippa’s Provence Holiday Ch. 03

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Over breakfast on a gloriously sunny Provence Saturday morning I told Pippa about Yvette, my lovely little blonde mistress from Avignon.

“We’ve been an item for about six months, Pip,” I told my lush-breasted 19-year-old niece, “and she’s sensational. And while she’s no prude, I’d be obliged if you didn’t wear those ridiculous little strips of material you laughingly refer to as bikinis when we’re by the pool.”

Pippa put on a dramatic pout. “Uncle doesn’t want to see ickle Pipple’s lovely ickle titties and botty,” she said, in a ludicrous “little girl” act.

“Unky wants to see a lot less of ickle Pipple ‘cos it gives unky wunky a fucking hardy wardy,” I replied in kind.

Pippa laughed, and moved to where I was buttering toast. “I’ll behave, but I don’t know that I’ve got anything other than those ‘ridiculous little strips’ as you describe them,” she told me, running a hand over the front of my jeans, provoking an instant stirring of my cock.

“Well then, you can cycle into the village and go to Madam Boucheron’s shop and buy one. I’ve seen some in the window and they’re much more suitable for when my lovely lady’s around,” I told her.

After breakfast Pippa did exactly that and while we were gone, Yvette’s rusty old Citroen banged its way into the forecourt and the beautiful blonde climbed out.

Her lustrous blonde hair fell to her sun-bronzed shoulders. A little black bikini top supported her firm 35-inch breasts, and a scandalously brief little pair of shocking white hot pants completed her outfit. It was almost as if she’d been to Pippa’s couturier!

The high-heeled beauty stepped into the hallway and kissed me greedily on the mouth. “‘Ello, you lovely ‘unk,” she said, rubbing her bikini-covered breasts against my bare chest.

Yvette is Sorbonne-educated and speaks perfect English but for an irritating habit of dropping her “hs”, which was an affectation I knew drove British male tourists mad with lust, but pissed me off no end.

“‘Ello you ‘orrible little ‘arlot,” I replied, because there are times when I cannot resist ribbing her about those dropped aitches.

Yvette laughed, and stepped out of her hot pants to reveal an exquisite little black thong which matched her bra. “All right,” she said, draping her pants across a kitchen chair, “where is she? I want to see ‘er.”

I explained that I had sent Pippa to Madam Boucheron’s to buy a semi-decent bikini, and Yvtte laughed. “For someone ‘oo makes ‘is money by photographing naked women you’re very prudish at times, Jack,” she told me.

Just then, Pippa walked into the kitchen, her brow gleaming with perspiration from the long uphill incline back to my place from the village.

“You must be prudish old Jack’s lady,” said Pippa, who had obviously overheard Yvette’s remark. Pippa walked up to the blonde and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m Pippa and I’m going upstairs to try on my new bikini. I’ll model it for you in a minute or two!” And she skipped off upstairs carrying a little brown paper parcel.

Yvette looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Jack, she’s so pretty – you’re a very lucky old uncle!”

I stepped into her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. “I’m lucky because I’ve got you,” I said. After taking off my jeans to reveal a small black thong, we went outside, lay back on recliners and sipped on cold Kronenbourgs while waiting for Pippa to put in her bikini modelling appearance.

Minutes later, my niece emerged from the wide doorway off the kitchen and pirouetted around in a black bikini, which did nothing to hide the outline of her lovely breasts and buttocks, but at least covered them a lot more than her “string” jobs.

Yvette, though, was far from impressed. “Oh Jack, that’s dreadful – look what you’ve made ‘er do! If she wears that ‘orrid little thing for more than ‘arf an hour she’ll die of ‘eat exhaustion,” my blonde mistress informed me.

“Pippa, darling,” Yvette addressed my teenage niece, “go upstairs and put on one of those little bikinis that this old prude ‘ere so objects to. I want to see it.”

Pippa grinned a broad grin, poked her tongue out at me and disappeared while ataşehir escort I chided Yvette. “Those things are so brief they wouldn’t be out of place in a porn magazine,” I informed her.

“Well, my darling,” she replied, totally unfazed, “you should know!”

There wasn’t much to say to that, so I let it ride and sucked on my beer. Then Pippa made her reappearance.

She had chosen the red “bikini”, which consisted of narrow strips at her breasts – so narrow the outer edges of her areolae were visible – and at her pussy. The strip down there was similarly scandalously brief, so much that the outer sides of her lush labia lips protruded from the sides.

Yvette, the little vixen, applauded! “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “that is so ‘umungous!” And I know she chose the word “humungous” deliberately so she could drop the fucking “h”!

Pippa, playing up to her, spun around and then stood by the side of my recliner, spread her feet wide and bent over, grasping her ankles. The bikini strap only covered the centre of her lovely little brown anus, and I felt my cock rising inexorably in my thong.

“Oh Pippa, you look so magnifique,” said Yvette, lapsing into part-French. “I’d love to try one on – ‘ave you another like it?”

Of course she has, I said to myself, and Pippa grinned at me again and poked her tongue out at me – again. “Come on up to my bedroom, I’ll show you my collection,” said my little vixen of a niece. “Uncle, you stay here,” said Pippa, “and try to keep your hands away from your cock! We’ll be back in a few minutes. In the meantime, fetch me a beer, this modelling is fucking thirsty work!”

I rose, aware of my erection sticking out from my groin and thrusting pole-like into my thong, and collected three more Kroenebourgs from the fridge.

Then Pippa and Yvette returned. Yvette had chosen a black version of the dental floss which Pippa referred to as a “bikini”. I gaped at her lovely young figure, which I had, of course, seen naked many, many times. But I had never seen her in such an erotic state of near nudity!

“Well, my darling,” laughed Yvette, doing a passable imitation of one of those long-legged catwalk models, “‘ow do I look?”

She looked fucking stunning! “You look absolutely gorgeous, Yvette,” was how I couched it for her. “Now let’s all have a beer while I try to take my mind off the state of near nudity you two are in.”

But Yvette wasn’t in the mood for sunbathing. “You know, Pippa,” she said, looking at me with one finger on her pretty little chin, “I think ‘e wants us. Look at ‘is ‘ard-on!”

Well, it was true my cock was stiff in my thong. It’s somewhat difficult to disguise a hard-on when you’ve got a small thong on over an eight-inch cock.

Before I could attempt to counter Yvette’s outrageous statement, the two women had stepped to either side of my recliner and reached out to grab my arms and pull me from my spot.

“Come on, uncle,” cried Pippa, “I think Yvette has plans for you!” And with that they half-dragged, half-lifted me from the recliner, into the kitchen and up the stairs.

“On come on, this is insane,” I remember calling out as they marched me upstairs, but I wasn’t protesting too much – anyway, my erection in that darned little thong was speaking volumes, as it was.

Inside my bedroom, Yvette took charge. “Let’s get ‘is thong off, Pippa,” she said, “with our teeth!”

Both women then knelt, one on either side of me, and took the narrow strips of satin on my hips in their teeth and dragged the garment from me, allowing that useless, give-away of a cock of mine to spring to immediate attention!

“I’ll lick ‘is shaft from this side, you lick it from your side and then I want to kiss you when we get to the top,” said my blonde mistress.

I felt the erotic excitement as Yvette and Pippa’s tongues licked against my stiffness, then traversed slowly up my shaft to the drooling cock helmet. Pippa sucked some of the pre-cum from me, then they kissed, open-mouthed, just above the tip of my penis.

Yvette then stood, kicked off her high heels, stepped out of her string at her snatch and pushed me onto kadıköy escort bayan my back on the bed. “I’m in ‘eat,” she announced, “I need ‘im!”

The lovely blonde’s almost hairless minge then poised above my hard-on before she impaled herself on me, my cock driving deep into her velvet-like vagina.

I reached up and dragged the ridiculous little strips of material away from her globes and fondled her firm 35-inch breasts, glorying in the sight of their hardened little nipples.

But almost instantly this lovely view was denied me as an equally erotic sight appeared – that of Pippa’s heavenly-perfumed pussy lowering itself onto my face! Soon Yvette was humping up and down on my cock, while Pippa humped up and down on my face, my tongue coming into contact with her cunt, then clit, my nose buried deep against her anus.

Next, I gathered that Pippa had leaned forward and was sucking on the French woman’s hard little nipples, because Yvette started to let out moans, then cries as she thrust to a noisy orgasm on my cock. She comes quickly when I suck on her nipples as she plunges up and down on my cock – it’s a sure-fire way for her to enjoy the Big O.

After Yvette had calmed down, she pulled off my cock, the foreskin now peeled down to the ring owing to her tight little cunt, and Pippa immediately swooped, bending over and planting a soft kiss on my helmet before sucking me into her mouth, while my tongue paid earnest attention to her clit.

Soon she was humping and heaving to her climax, and moments after she had come on me – I could tell the way the temperature of her randy little snatch soared – I came in her, shooting spunk into her mouth and grunting in pleasure, as my head fell back from her pulsating pussy.

After sucking me dry, Pippa lay on one side of my sweat-stained body, Yvette the other.

When I’d recovered, I turned and kissed Yvette on the mouth – the fact that my lips had been smeared by Pippa’s pussy not bothering her in the slightest.

“All right, mon cherie,” I smiled at my little French mistress, “how did you know – and how long did you know for?”

Yvette laughed a low, Gallic chuckle. “Darling,” she chided me, “I may be a blonde but I am not stupid. The body language between you too was an obvious give-away. The way Pippa be’aves, she’s obviously ‘ot for you.”

“Hot she may be, but how did you know we were lovers?” I persisted.

“The fact that you wore a thong in front of us both, the fact you were proud of your ‘ard-on, the fact that you didn’t really make any objections when Pippa put on ‘er little bikini, or when I asked if I could try one on,” she enlightened me.

“And you have no objections?” I asked.

“Why should I?” Yvette grinned. “Maybe ‘er mother would ‘ave, but Pippa is beautiful and obviously a ‘ugely randy little beast. And since I’ve never ‘ad a threesome, I thought it would be nice. I think it’s going to be a very ‘appy week-end.”

“Oh god,” said Pippa, propping herself up on one arm and looking across at Yvette, “I just love that accent, it is so fuckin’ perfect.”

“Thanks, Pippa,” I said, sternly, “now she’ll be dropping those aitches forever.”

“I think it’s cute,” said Pippa, flopping down on her tummy. “In fact I might do it – ‘ow about that, huncle?”

“Huncle” slapped her across her lush young bum.

“Stop it,” she squealed, “I like it!”

We spent the rest of the day sunbathing in the nude – there seemed no point in the pretence of bikinis or thongs now we had all been intimate with each other, and for dinner I cooked a lovely fish dish which we washed down with lashings of French white wine.

We were all pretty pissed when we trooped upstairs for bed and Yvette insisted we “tuck Pippa up in ‘er bed”. Still all naked we stepped into her room and my niece placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, spreading her thighs wide. This produced a stunning sight of buttocks, fully revealed anus and pussy.

“I think she’s asking for a night-night fuck,” Yvette whispered in my ear, and I placed my hard-on against my niece’s cunt lips and drove my cock home. As I did, Yvette escort maltepe climbed onto the bed and placed her feet on either side of Pippa’s body, thus presenting her perfumed pussy to my mouth.

With my cock I enjoyed the delights of fucking my tight-cunted little niece, with my mouth I enjoyed the delights of a mouth fucking from my lovely mistress.

Yvette stroked her nipples as I performed my oral adoration of her minge, then started to cry out as her climax arrived, then washed over her like a warm wave. The experience was so exciting I felt my climax nearing and for some reason, I pulled my cock from Pippa’s cunt and exploded my semen onto the teenager’s back.

We all showered together, before I helped Pippa into bed and placed a chaste “Good-night” kiss on her cheek, then took Yvette to my bed. We were so fucked we didn’t even cuddle, just lay back, warm and tingling, and slept.

As the dawn chorus woke us, I stroked Yvette’s pussy, which soon reacted by making my fingers very moist indeed. Then she knelt up in the doggy position and I entered her cunt from behind her lovely little buttocks. As I began the fuck strokes in her great little cunt, the door opened and in walked Pippa.

She took a leaf from Yvette’s book the night before and stood up on the bed, placing her minge firmly against my mouth and enjoying cunnilingus while I fucked my mistress.

Soon Pippa’s enthustiastic cries announced her climax, then I pulled out of Yvette’s sopping wet cunt and sprayed semen all over back for mine.

I dragged myself from the pair and Yvette stood up by the bed, a delightful French pout on her face. “‘Ey, ‘ow about me?” she complained. “When do I ‘ave an orgasm?”

Pippa, lying back on the tousled sheets, giggled and dragged the slender blonde onto the bed. “Now,” she panted, and slithered down Yvette’s naked body and placed her mouth against the French woman’s aromatic pussy. To assist in the speed of Yvette’s Big O, I lay beside them and sucked on my mistress’s lovely little hard rosebud nipples.

After breakfast, Yvette and Pippa took photographs of each other in the scandalous little bikinis, in the nude and Yvette in her more modest, though very sexy, little black bikini. There was a lot of splashing and crashing in the pool.

After lunch, Yvette announced that she had to leave by mid-evening as she had to open the office up early on Monday morning.

Later in the afternoon, out on my recliner, I must have dozed off what with the effects of the heat and a few Kronenbourgs, followed by a carafe or two of wine. When I woke, I found I was alone. I rose and walked, naked, into the house and upstairs.

From my bedroom, I heard sighs and gasps. I poked my head around the door and there was Pippa, totally nude, her face pressed into Yvette’s pussy. My mistress was sitting up, her back pressed against the head board, her hands stroking her nipples.

Seeing me, Yvette opened her mouth in a big “O” and pointed a finger towards her mouth. I stepped up onto the bed, straddled Yvette’s lovely body and placed my rising prick to her lips. Soon she was sucking me like a vacuum cleaner, as Pippa licked away at her minge.

I pulled my cock from her eagerly working mouth as she articulated the joys of her orgasm, then pressed my stiff-pricked shaft back to her again and within moments I was pumping my salty seed down her throat.

Afterwards, I slumped down on the bed and Pippa got up and lay on the other side of the French woman.

Yvette kissed my niece on her mouth and spoke soberly: “Now, Pippa, when I arrive next weekend, I don’t want to find lover boy ‘ere all exhausted. OK?”

Pippa nodded. “Understood, Yvette, but if he is, then you can always enjoy me.”

Yvette smiled, then added: “Of course – and we’ve forgotten something, I think. You ‘aven’t ‘ad your orgasm!”

And with that, she slid down until her face was opposite Pippa’s pussy.

“Yvette, you’re so understanding,” said my niece. “You don’t mind sharing uncle with me, you always make sure I have lovely orgasms.”

Then Yvette’s mouth started its oral adoration of Pippa’s perfumed garden.

“What’s the way you put it, Yvette?” said Pippa, as she lay back and luxuriated in the cunnilingus she was receiving. “I ‘ave the ‘ots for you!”

And Pippa roared with laughter at her own joke. Yvette said nothing. She was far too busy to comment.

To be continued.

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