This is, in part, a true account of my life in the South of France. Or is all of it real. I know the answer, but I will let you all decide for yourselves. Perhaps you could let me know?
There are more parts to my continuing life here (with René) and which also involves an outrageous, Danish, 18 year old, who is on holiday with her parents. mmmmmmmm
Too much red wine [Part One]
It all started with a boozy conversation with a guy from Sweden in a late night chatroom. He was being really irritating in his views on me being a lesbian and the whole of the gay community. All he wanted for me was to admit that I really would like to suck on his cock, and let him fuck me rigid. Prat.
I said that I have never done that nor have any male member near me…..oh…I did hold one for a friend of mine at a party. On and on, he bored about women needing a good cock around them to satisfy them.
It was at that moment I heard a bark from my neighbours dog, René, and a light bulb went off in my head! The last two nights I had been rather fascinated, and enjoying looking at a website where lovely females were having all kinds of sex with dogs .I admit that I got a bit aroused, and disgusted at myself for being turned on by girls sucking an engorged dog cock.
To shut up the bore from Sweden, and just wanting to see his reaction, I interrupted him about his bragging about his boner, and his wanking at the thought of little old, lonely, cock-starved me.
I said “Hold on, just let me tell you that, as you are tossing off your pathetic little todger, it will never compare with the cock on the neighbours’ dog !”
“Oh, you have seen it?” he slowly murmered……”Seen it ? Wow, I have held it, sucked it and fucked it.”
“WHAT? You’re kidding me; you haven’t done that…it’s disgusting !” he shouted at me.
“He is a lovely dog, very attentive, and fucks me whenever I wish….and his cum is delicious.” I heard myself telling the now very quiet Swede, and continued to tell him about all the things I had been watching on a bestiality website, and as if it were me who was doing all the scenes that I had watched. Heheee, I got exactly the reaction I wanted…shock, horror, disgust and then, at long last, being cut off, mid-flow to Sweden.
That, I told myself was how to cope with an arrogant, homophobic male.
I shut down the computer, had a last swig of wine and went upstairs to bed. My mind still racing and thoughts of what I described of dog sex racing around my now wine filled brain, sent me off to dream, with a naughty grin on my face and both hands tucked tightly between my thighs.
This is the perfect moment to tell you a little about myself.
I am a 29yo brunette lesbian, 5’8”, slim with 34d boobs…..I think attractive, and very sexual in thoughts and deed.
I moved to a village in the hills above St.Tropez in the South of France, in 2004, for the job as an administrator in a website-based estate agency. I live in a charming two bedroomed cottage on the edge of the village, with a very private garden and pool. I look over my gate to my neighbours’ house some 60 yards away. Life here is delicious, and I love the weather, being part of the village life, and adore to be working on the coast nearby, with the wonderful, beautiful females who meander around the whole year round. I perhaps drink too much of the delicious local wine, and smoke a little too much as well, but despite being a private sort of gal, try to live life to the full, in this glorious part of the world.
I awoke after a rather restless night and went downstairs for coffee and croissants….. a beautifully warm May morning, not a cloud in the sky, allowing me to wander outside in man’s shirt, with my “bowl” of coffee while the croissant was warming in the oven.
Looking down the path toward the village, there appeared René trotting out of my neighbours’ house to have a look around …and mark his territory.
René is a very handsome 3yo, Weimaraner, with astonishing grey/blue eyes, very friendly with me and those who know him. A tall athletic frame which needs exercise, which is why the ageing owners let him out the house to roam the village.
“Bonjour René” I called out, and he turned to look at me, and started to wag his tail. I think he thought that the coffee cup that I was holding was a ‘treat’ for him.
When he approached, I ruffled his ears and apologized that it was not something for him but a cup of coffee.
“But, would you like a little bit of croissant with butter and honey?” I asked him, as if he understood every English word I spoke.
He did, however, follow me into the kitchen and as I sat down with my warm croissant, sat obediently at my side, awaiting any crumb from the crumbly pastry.
Spreading butter, and honey on the croissant, I could hardly stand the expectant beautiful eyes watching me start to eat the pastry. “OK, here is just a little bit for you”, and let him very gently take the offering from my fingers. Taking the morsel, he then licked my buttery fingers, and wanted more, it seemed.
I was watched as I took another bite, and René seemed to sadly look up at me and say, “No more for me?”