French Postcards – ebook



French Postcards by Don Julian Winslow

It has been said that Paris is for lovers. Readers will find French Postcards a frank and uninhibited celebration of erotica, exploring the fascinating variations of love and sex in the City of Lights. This collection of compelling tales features fascinating men and captivating women celebrating the joys of erotic passion in all its vibrant manifestations, from the ordinary to the perverse, and beyond – to the outer fringes of human sexuality. These fourteen stories include Slow Hands, I’d Like to Watch, Command Performance, Odd Couple in Room 210 and the novella length Renata’s Story, as well as many others.

Not only is this collection beautifully written by one of the masters of the erotica genre, sizzling, sexy and very graphic scenes abound, featuring sexy dressing, with lace, leather, corsets, high heels and stockings, voyeurism and exhibitions. D/s content includes spanking – from mild to severe – a variety of punishment tools, discipline, punishment, with oral, anal, straight and some forced sex. Male and female domination, female and male submission.

Quote:  “Renata, you may lower your dress; then open up the front, three buttons should do it, just enough to give our ‘James Dean’ a peek at those petite breasts of yours.  Make sure he stays in that chair! I want you to go to him, and kneel down right in front of him, close enough so he can see down the front of your dress.  And then I want you to put your hand on the front of his pants, right on his crotch….”

Don Winslow is an internationally bestselling writer, with some 20 books of erotic fiction to his credit including: Slave Girls of Rome, Winslow’s Victorian Erotica, The Little Red Dress, The Master of the Art, and Compulsion.

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Karine was full of such surprises. One day, we took a walk in the countryside, and as we strolled barefoot through the grassy fields, Karine reached down and deftly undid the catch of the large wraparound skirt she wore. With charming insouciance the girl simply walked out of the two halves of the parted skirt, gathering the loose folds up without missing a step, and casually flinging it across one shoulder, all the while chatting away, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And thus we continued our stroll, the long-legged blonde with her panties peeping out from under the hem of her loosely hanging blouse, bare legs flashing in the summer sun.

If questioned her about her exhibitionist leanings, Karine would give a look of wide-eyed innocence, and offer a wordless shrug. Still, this was a point fascinated me, and once when I pressed her on it, she explained, with a slightly disingenuous smile, that she merely liked to get “more comfortable.” However, I sensed there was more to it than that.

The sight of Karine’s lean, small-breasted figure in a sexy thong, striding towards the beach in her high-heeled sandals, was breathtaking. The diminutive triangle narrowed into a single strand that disappeared between the split curves of her high set buttocks and left pleasingly bare the sleek contours of her long haunches, and the sheer perfection of that tight-cheeked young bottom. How could any woman help but be proud, secretly elated, when that lithe, rakish body inevitably captured the open stares of admiring men, and drew the sidelong glances of envious women as she swept by? It seemed perfectly natural to me that the tall blonde would relish a little display whenever the opportunity presented itself.

As I watched now, I saw my lissome beauty stir, shifting forward to resettle the coffee cup on the glass-topped table. She reached up to take off the floppy hat, undid the silk belt from around her waist, and slid her hands up the lapels. Leaning forward, she peeled back the jacket, twisting her shoulders free, and with a final shrug let the sagging jacket slide down her extended arms.

Gloriously topless now, she paused, straightening up in her chair, shoulders back, head erect, chin held high, in that imperious pose she assumed so readily; her tight young breasts now exposed to the delightful feel of the warm summer air. The simple elegance of her bare-breasted lines took my breath away; an ache of intense longing came over me as I gazed at the girl, quietly sitting there, perfectly poised, like the exquisitely carved figurehead of a proud ship. I watched fascinated, while she took a deep breath, her pert breasts riding up. The slightly up-tilted nipples, stirred by their sudden exposure to the moist sea air, seemed to be stiffening even as I watched.

She slid her hands up and lightly passing them over her naked breasts as she reached for the sky to stretch back languidly, arching up in a luxurious feline stretch, as if offering up her delicate bosom to the life-giving sun. For a moment she held the pose, back deeply bowed, eyes closed, as a dreamy expression settled on her face. And then, slowly, she unwound, easing back into the chair, to rest back on splayed elbows. She wiggled her hips; her long tanned legs unfolded and sprawled carelessly in a loose vee. I watched the way her breasts moved liquidly as the girl eased back, the supple mounds receding, melding into two thickened discs that rose dimly on her slender torso. Those provocative nipples standing up. My hungry eyes traveled up that lean slack body to her peaceful face, where I saw her lips curl in a blissfully contented smile. Karine gave a final wiggle to settle in more comfortably before let herself sink into a sun-drenched torpor.

I let my ravenous eyes drink in the enchanting sight, sweeping the length of the somnolent figure from the top of her sun-bleached blond head to her toes, her splendid body offered so openly, vulnerable to my scrutiny. Her long clean lines were unbroken; her lightly tanned body totally naked, save for the white strip of the thin panties banding her narrow hips.

I took my time, leisurely savoring the streamlined figure laid out before me. Karine wore her straight blond hair pulled back from her face, the excess tied up in a pert pony-tail, enhancing the quality of wholesome freshness, that young girl innocence that men found so irresistible. Her neat blond features were slack in quiet repose, but the high aristocratic cheekbones were still prominent, the chiseled lines of her nose and lips, the crisp chin, each elegantly sculpted feature etched in sharp relief in the morning light.

I let my eyes adore every inch of her, trailing down her neck, along the fine ridges of the collarbone, down the narrow sternum, flat and smooth, between the gentle slopes of those darling little tits. Flattened by her reclining posture, the small mounds had all but receded into her lithe torso, and all that remained were two slight rises crowned with dusky tips; small, precise disks with tiny hardened nubs. Those roughish nipples once awakened had now lapsed back into dormancy, lulled by the reassuring warmth of the morning sun.

Now my insatiable eyes continued their hungry journey, scanning the sweeping lines of Karine’s lithe body, lean and seductively contoured, over the barely-perceptible traces of her ribcage and onto the subtle curves of her smooth belly, taut and barely concave, with a slight hallow just where the low-slung panties stretched across to span her jutting hipbones. My eyes devoured her slim hips and the sleek curves of her elongated loins, the fullness of her haunches revealed by the high-cut panties. When she had slid forward, squirming her hips to get more comfortable, the panties had ridden up, and now the gusset was pulled tight deliciously molding her gently mounded vulva. I let the telescope linger there, right at the juncture of her thighs, just at that point where I could make out the hazy shadow of blond pubic hair barely discernible through the thin layer of tightly-stretched nylon. A twinge of desire shot through my loins; my prick stirred in instant response.

Slowly, I continue to scan those long slack limbs, savoring the clean straight lines of those choice young thighs, smooth columnar lengths that I knew I could easily span with the spread fingers on one hand. I let my eyes visually caress the elegant curves of those tall tapering legs, loosely spread in wanton abandon. I remembered the feel of those legs of hers; the incredible satiny smoothness of Karine’s silky thighs. My hand reached down to find and grab my aching manhood. For the longest time I simply gazed at her still form, slowly pulling on my, by now, fully-erected penis.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement. Karine’s right hand, which had rested at her hip, was stirring, creeping across the flat plain of her belly, curving up over the ribcage, the fingers nosing towards her left breast. I watched fascinated while those narrow fingers snaked around the curving slope to loosely cup the exquisite symmetry of that precious little breast. She brushed the pad of an extended thumb back and forth, worrying the nascent nipple, until the tiny nub began emerge once again from its dormant state.

Next, she brought the other hand into play, and now with one hand on each tit, her long pointy fingertips traced over the slight bulges. The exploring fingers seemed to have a life of their own as they slid over the soft rises and settled into ever tightening spirals around the darkening aureoles, till she captured the stiffening buds between two scissoring fingers. I watched as she squeezed the expanded nipples, delicately plucking the sensitive nubs and rolling them between thumb and forefinger, till the fully-aroused tips stood up proudly, audaciously erect; taut with tingling excitement.

Once Karine had her nipples upstanding, she shifted tactics, opening her hands to palm the little flattened mounds. The delicate fingers closed in a reassuring squeeze and then, with slow languid movements, she began to caress herself, using her palms to press into and move the soft tittie-flesh in a deep circular massage. Her self-pleasuring soon had her squirming in feline pleasure, sensuously wriggling her shoulders in obvious delight as she savored the delectable experience of fondling herself in the warmth of the soft summer morning of the French Rivera.

I passed a quick hand over my brow, surprised at how warm I had become from watching her. I was actually sweating, clearly turned on, kept at a fevered pitch of randy excitement by the slow writhing of the leggy blond. Watching her torrid performance had stiffened my swollen manhood to an aching, desperate state, and it was becoming more difficult to ignore the pressing demand for release which grew more insistent with each moment. I tightened my grip on my rock-hard prick and closed my eyes, momentarily giving myself up to a grand upwelling surge of pleasure.

When I opened my eyes again it was to find that Karine had quit her charming little breasts, although she continued to make love to herself, her greedy hands seeking further pleasure in the nether regions between her restless loins. Her right hand had slid down over her pantied pubic mound and she slipped two extended fingers between her legs to give her nylon-sheathed pussy a quick vigorous rub, tossing back her head at the sudden stab of pleasure.

Eagerly, she grabbed at the front of the panties, clutching a handful of the silky fabric. Twisting the fistful of nylon and yanking upward, she pulled on the narrow gusset, tugging the taut crease up until it was deeply embedded between her cuntlips. As she stretched the twisted scrap she arched up, raising her hips high off the seat, and straining upward, caught in the throes of her self-induced arousal. She held that pose, her head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, her brow wrinkled with lines of urgency, her body tightly bowed in a rigid arc. For an impossibly long moment I watched her strain upwards, yanking the taut silk strip even deeper between into her cunt, and bucking her hips in a lewd parody of fucking.

She continued this wanton performance for several more seconds, the muscles in her calves straining as she rose up on her toes. The passion-driven blonde was tossing her head from side to side, flinging her long silky hair wildly, and working with mounting urgency. But then abruptly, at the last minute, she pulled back from the brink of her onrushing climax. Perhaps she wished to prolong her escalating pleasure, or maybe she was simply unable to maintain the rigid demanding pose. In any case, her fist opened, releasing her crinkled panties, and she let herself fall back into the chair, collapsing in a sunken heap, while the rolling waves of pleasure gradually subsided.

The blond girl lay quiet for a moment, slowly recovering her equilibrium. I focused the lens on her face to find that her cheeks were flushed; her nostrils flaring, her breath coming in rapid heaves through moist, parted lips. I saw her fine eyelashes flutter in agitation, her eyes narrowing into slits, before closing down once again. I watched and waited, certain that the lascivious show staged for my benefit (of that I was sure) was not yet over.

I had to wait only a moment till I saw her right hand, which had come to rest on the shallow depression just below her navel, move lower. Very gradually, the fingertips nosed under the taut elastic waistband of the tiny panties. Soon the whole hand slipped under the diaphanous shield, the creeping fingers burrowing between her moistening thighs, till her curving palm cupped up to hold her needy sex.

I watched, entranced, as the languid blond began palming her pubic mound, moving with slow, deliberate strokes, rubbing herself off and writhing sensuously, like a big cat in heat. A surge of powerful lust electrified me, thrilling me at the erotic sight of the squirming blond, pleasuring herself with her fist jammed down her underpants; I couldn’t help rubbing myself off, my hand pistoning in time to her churning rhythms.

Now Karine was humping ferociously, her lovely features once again contorted, jaws clenched, teeth bared, as she raced towards an explosive climax. Suddenly, her eyes flew wide open. Through parted lips she drew a quick intake of breath, gasping at the intensity of the onrushing wave of pure ecstasy that swept her up. She rubbed herself with renewed fury, her hips gyrating wildly, bucking violently. Suddenly, her forearm tensed as she tightened her grip on her spasming sex, holding on while a deep shuddering orgasm racked her trembling body.

Unable to control my own boiling excitement, I grabbed my surging cock and yanked vigorously. The discharge came rocketing up in powerful pulsating jets, thick wads of creamy cum that arched up through the air as wild electric thrills shook me to the core. The earth-shattering explosion sent a wave of unalloyed pleasure coursing through me; my legs went rubbery. I staggered back, reaching for the telescope to steady myself, as my eyes fluttered and closed. But I allowed myself only a few seconds to savor the rapture. With a deep breath I forced my eyes open again, wanting to miss nothing, insatiable for the sight of my blond temptress. Unable to quit the telescope, I stood there swaying, gazing through half-lidded eyes, fixated by the image of the loosely slack figure blissfully sinking into the afterglow of her own ebbing orgasm.

And as I gazed in rapt fascination, captivated by that alluring form, the blonde turned her face up to where I stood naked in the window. For a moment I was taken aback, startled by the directness of her gaze as her deep dark eyes caught mine in the act of mute adoration. On that upturned face was the most beguiling smile I had even seen, sexy, and incredibly lewd. If there could have been any doubt that the blond vixen knew she was being watched it was dispelled at that moment, for it was then that she winked, an impish, conspiratorial wink, which, without a doubt, was aimed …straight at me!


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