Diary of A Sex Worker Chapter 4 – A French Affair (Part 2) 

I was vibrating with anticipation and unexpected nervous energy as I drove to the Airbnb Jean rents when he’s in town. I didn’t want to admit it, but I had missed him more than I thought. He hadn’t been actively on my mind because our last encounter was eight months ago — I had checked to be sure — but after he booked me, things began to change, and the call this morning made everything much worse. 

When I got to the electronic gate, it opened automatically and my heart jumped into my throat. He had been watching for my arrival. 

After I slid into one of the parking spots and turned off my engine, I took a moment to will both my silly heart and wet, throbbing pussy to calm down. This was just another good temporary partner. There was no need for this much excitement. Feeling calmer after the self-talk, I opened my door and slid out of my seat, and promptly forgot the speech.

He approached me in brisk steps, his lean, athletic body clad in loose lounge pants and a plain white T-shirt. A black-and-white bandana held his shoulder-length locs away from his face. He had such intense brown eyes, which were so dark that they appeared black sometimes. His very talented lips curved into a smile, and I lost the battle of wills with the two organs when he opened his mouth and spoke in French. 

“Ma Beauté! Je t’ai beaucoup manqué.”

And just like that, the idiot in my chest made cartwheels and the slut in my panties gushed out more liquid and throbbed some more. It didn’t help at all that I was ovulating so I was hornier than usual.

“I’ve missed you a lot too,” I admitted, smiling back at him. 

He closed the distance between us and pulled me into a hug, whispering in my ear, “I’m trying to be a gentleman and not start mauling you over here but it’s hard.”

His lips brushed over my ear, making me shiver. 

“I’ve never needed you to be a gentleman,” I told him, and he pulled back to grin at me.

Then, before I could mentally prepare myself, his lips were on mine. He kissed me slowly but passionately, exploring my lips before coaxing them open. When our tongues touched, I moaned, all other thoughts fleeing from my head except this man that I wanted to screw me into tomorrow with his hard, thick cock; the hardness that I could feel against me as we kissed. I was trying to calm myself down because knowing Jean, he won’t give me his dick until after the event we were going to. But it was useless trying to curb the inferno of need rising with a ridiculously rapid speed. I had forgotten just how badly he could make me want, and the reminder sent another gush of liquid down my pussy, which was eager to be his slut.

When he pulled away, we were both panting and I was slightly unsteady on my feet. We stared at each other, and I was hit by the realization that I wanted him with an intensity that was a little alarming. The tented pants and the different expressions of lust and surprise that flitted across his face told me that I was not alone in that ridiculous want.

“Allez, mettons ta valise à l’intérieur,” (Come on, let’s get your suitcase inside) he said after taking a deep breath and planting a quick kiss on my lips like he couldn’t resist. Then he finally released me and moved towards my car’s boot. Taking a calming breath of my own, I unlocked it for him and grabbed my handbag from my passenger seat, following him inside. 

It was going to be an interesting week.

Jean took my suitcase to the bedroom we would be sharing for the duration of our time together and showed me where my outfit was. Giving me privacy to freshen up my make-up and get dressed, he went to the spare room to get himself ready as well.

It didn’t take long for me to freshen up and step into the dress. It was a beautiful long, black, off-shoulder dress with a skirt that flowed around my legs and fit like it was made for me. 

Jean came in while I was stepping into the dress and went behind to zip it up, dropping kisses on my naked shoulder that made me shiver. 

“This dress is fabulous. You’ve got great taste, Jean,” I complimented, walking to the mirror to admire myself.

He came up behind me again to nuzzle my hair, and then, catching my eyes in the mirror, he smiled. “Oui, indeed, I do have excellent taste.”

My breath caught at the intensity of his gaze, and I smiled back at his handsome face.  

“You’re such a charmer,” I accused, putting on the long earrings that came with my outfit.

His grin flashed. “Nothing but truth, ma chérie. Now, come. Let’s get your shoes on and insert your new toy. Then we can be on our way.”

He said it so casually, but I felt myself getting wet at what I knew was coming. He always did this and waited until I was fully dressed to do it. Sexually torturing me through the night got him off.

He sat me on the dressing stool and knelt in front of me, pulling on my heels and closing the straps. When he was done, he carefully rolled up my dress so that the skirt pooled above my waist, and parted my legs just enough to expose my black lace panties to him.

I bit my lip, watching as he peeled the panties off, stood and dropped them onto the dressing table, and picked up the black box. 

“I got this secret pleasure device just for you. The reviews claimed it was better than the one we used previously but I guess we’ll see how true that is today.”

He returned to his position in front of me and gave me the box. I pulled out a small, burgundy, silicone toy.

“Take a look while I check how ready you are for me.”

I struggled to remain still as he pulled my thighs further apart, kissed my inner thigh and stared intently at my exposed wet heat. Liquid escaped from my core as he stared and rubbed light fingers over my sex, spreading the wetness around before dipping a finger into me.

“So wet. You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Y — yeess …,” I moaned as he added another finger and fucked me slowly with both.

I was so ready to be screwed senseless by this man that right then, skipping the event sounded like a brilliant idea to my lust-filled brain. 

He glanced up at me with dilated eyes and spoke in rapid French.

“Cela fait si longtemps et j’ai très envie de te goûter.”  Then, remembering that I may not understand, he translated, “It’s been so long and I want to taste you badly. To fuck you with my tongue until you cum into my mouth. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I could barely breathe. I was so wet, and I needed relief like yesterday. “Y— yes, please, Jean,” I stuttered, wanting him, and eager for him to do what he suggested.

I realized my mistake in hoping for relief when he gave me a wicked grin and took the toy from me.

“Too bad we don’t have time for that, eh?” he chuckled softly. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to make me cum before we left. He never did because he wanted me to be desperate first. The evil French man was just teasing me. I groaned in dismay when my body betrayed me with more wetness, turned on by his actions. Obviously, I was a glutton for sexual punishment. 

My initial groan turned into a moan when he inserted the toy into my wet channel. It was a comfortable fit. He pulled it back and forth a few times before leaving it inside of me. The slender magnet that came with it would ensure that it stayed in place.

“Does it feel comfortable?” Jean checked with me after he was done. “you’re going to wear it for almost two hours.”

I groaned at the thought of waiting that long for relief but nodded. “It’s good.”

Nodding, he rose. “Great, let’s test it. I’ve connected it to the app already.”

He took his phone from the bedside table and tapped on the screen. I let out a strangled moan when the toy began to vibrate inside of me.

“Good?” he asked, coming closer.

“Really go–ood,” I confirmed, the last part coming out in a loud moan when he increased the intensity of the vibration. 

Fuck, how was I going to last for two hours under this torture? 

Parfait!”(Perfect) he declared, and I was half disappointed and half relieved when he dropped the phone and returned to me, pulling up my panties again and then pulling down the dress. Then he grinned. “Nobody but I will know how wet you are for me under that long dress while you make small talk and nibble on small bites.”

Satisfied, he pulled me up and grabbed his phone again, tapping on the screen. I bit back the moan when the toy began to vibrate inside me once more, breathing hard when the torture stopped. 

Fuck, I needed to cum.

“Maybe we could skip the event?” I tried, willing my body to calm down. It didn’t seem to understand that there was no relief in sight anytime soon.

He grinned wolfishly. “You tempt me mon amour, but we do have to go.”

Then laughing at my pout, he added, “You’ll be fine, and I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

And I believed him because sex with Jean was always phenomenal.

“You remember the rules, right?” he asked, pulling me into his arms. “You cannot cum until the event is over, and you can only remove my gift if you have to pee. When you return it into your slutty cunt, just insert it. No playing with it.”

I groaned at the feeling of more liquid wetting the toy inside me at the instructions. “Yes, Jean, I remember.”

He grinned and pulled back, taking my hand. “Good girl. Now, what’s the last and most important rule?”

“If it becomes too much for me to bear in public, I have to say my safe word; chocolate,” I answered, hoping that I wouldn’t have to, but comforted by the fact that I could.

Oui, you must let me know if it becomes too much. Now, let’s be off.”

The drive to the event was short, but it seemed longer for me because Jean kept activating the toy each time we stopped for traffic. By the time we arrived, I was relieved because it meant that I was getting closer to getting my brains fucked out.

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