Alain heeded Camille's desperate plea, his hips surging forward with renewed vigor and intensity. Each powerful thrust struck deep, the thick head of his cock kissing her cervix as he fucked her through her climax with single-minded determination. Camille's screams of rapture echoed off the office walls, a symphony of carnal bliss that only spurred Alain to greater heights of passion.
"Yes, fuck, scream for me, mon amour," Alain growled, his voice a low, feral rasp as he pistoned into her spasming heat. "Let everyone know who makes you feel this good, who fucks this sweet little cunt so perfectly."
Camille could only wail in response, her body convulsing and shuddering as the waves of her orgasm crashed over her again and again. Her inner walls clamped down around Alain's plundering cock, gripping him like a velvet vice as she rode out the aftershocks of her intense release.
With a final, brutal thrust, Alain buried himself to the hilt inside Camille's fluttering sheath. A guttural roar tore from his throat as his own climax overtook him, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself into the condom that separated them. The thin latex stretched taut around his spurting length, a bulging silhouette of his essence trapped within.
Camille could feel the heat of his release, the way his cock jerked and twitched inside her as he filled the condom with his seed. She whimpered, a sound of frustrated longing, as she wished she could feel his hot, sticky cum painting her insides, marking her as his own.
Panting harshly, Alain slumped back in his chair, his arms wrapping around Camille's trembling form as the last shuddering aftershocks of their lovemaking faded away.
Camille turned in Alain's lap, his semi-hard cock still nestled deep inside her dripping heat. She arched her back sensually, pressing her ample breasts against his sweat-slicked chest as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.
"Mmm," she purred, her voice a low, sultry murmur. "I had no idea my boss was so... talented. So fucking good at pleasing a woman." Camille nipped playfully at his earlobe, her tongue darting out to soothe the sting. "I'm impressed, sir. Extremely impressed."
She rocked her hips, grinding her pelvis against his in a slow, sensual circle. The movement stirred his spent cock back to life, and she could feel it beginning to harden and lengthen inside her once more. Camille smiled to herself, a wicked, knowing curve of her lips as she felt the evidence of his renewed arousal.
"Hmm, it seems someone is ready for round two," she teased, her hand drifting down between their bodies to wrap around his thickening shaft. She stroked him slowly, feeling him pulse and twitch in her grip as she pumped him back to full, aching hardness.
Alain groaned, his hands coming up to cup and squeeze the ripe globes of her ass as she worked his cock with sensual intent. "Insatiable minx," he accused, a note of dark amusement in his voice. "You're playing with fire, Camille. Keep this up, and I won't be responsible for what happens next."
Camille simply smiled, a look of pure, unadulterated wickedness in her eyes as she leaned in to capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. She arched her back more deeply, pressing her breasts harder against his chest as she deepened the kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth to tangle with his own. The kiss grew more intense, more demanding, as she ground her hips against his in a slow, sensual rhythm designed to drive him wild with lust.
As the kiss grew more heated and intense, Camille felt a trickle of saliva begin to leak from the corner of her mouth, a testament to the overwhelming passion and desire that Alain's domination of the embrace ignited within her. Her nails dug into the firm, muscular flesh of his chest, leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin as she clung to him, desperate to anchor herself against the whirlwind of sensation that threatened to sweep her away.
With a final, searing nip to her bottom lip, Alain broke the kiss, leaving Camille breathless and wanting, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He smiled at her, a look of pure, masculine satisfaction playing across his handsome features as he took in her disheveled, just-fucked appearance.
"These condoms... they're different from the ones we usually use," Alain remarked, his gaze drifting down to the latex sheath that still encased his hardening cock, a look of curiosity and a touch of suspicion in his eyes. "Where did you get these, mon chéri?"
Camille blinked, a look of momentary confusion flashing in her eyes as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "I... I'm not sure," she admitted, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "My friend... Amélie... she gave them to me. Said I should try them out, see if they made a difference."
A slow, knowing smile spread across Alain's face, a glimmer of recognition and a touch of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, yes. Amélie," he mused, the name rolling off his tongue like a dark, forbidden incantation. "Your best friend, non? The one who is always trying to... help you out of tight spots."
He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent shivers down Camille's spine. "I have a feeling these condoms are not the only thing she has given you, ma petite. I suspect she has other... designs in mind." Alain's voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial murmur, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leaned in closer to Camille. "And I intend to discover just what those designs might be, the next time the three of us are together." Alain's voice was a low, seductive purr, his hot breath ghosting across the shell of Camille's ear as he spoke those scandalous words. His hands slid down to grip her hips, pulling her more firmly against him as his cock throbbed and pulsed inside her, a promise of the depraved pleasures to come. "But for now..." He captured her lips in another searing kiss, plundering her mouth with a renewed sense of hunger and desire. "...let's put these special condoms to good use, n'est-ce pas?"
Back at the bistro, Amélie took a sip of her wine, the rich, velvety liquid warming her throat as she savored the flavor. As she set the glass down, she caught Julien staring at her, his dark eyes filled with a intensity that made her pause. She glanced up at him, one elegant brow arching in question.
"Why are you staring at me like that, Julien?" she asked, a hint of curiosity and a touch of wariness in her melodic voice. "Is there something on my face?" She reached up to brush at her cheek, a subconscious gesture that drew attention to the delicate, flawless skin.
Julien smiled, a slow, appreciative curve of his lips as he drank in the sight of her. "Damn, Amélie," he murmured, his voice a low, fervent whisper. "Now that I'm focusing, I have to say... you haven't lost a single shred of your beauty in all these years. If anything, you've only grown more breathtaking with the passage of time."
A delicate blush rose to Amélie's cheeks, a rosy hue that lent a soft, vulnerable air to her exquisite features. She ducked her head, a shy, almost coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she struggled to hide the effect of his words. "Oh, Julien," she chided softly, her voice a low, amused murmur. "You always did know how to sweet-talk a girl. I suppose some things never change." Despite her words, Amélie couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips, the one that spoke of a secret, lingering pleasure at his compliment.
Julien reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek in a feather-light caress. "Some things are worth appreciating, ma chérie," he murmured, his thumb grazing the soft, delicate skin as he traced the line of her cheekbone. "And you, Amélie... you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Time has only enhanced your natural allure, your innate grace and elegance."
Amélie averted her gaze, a demure smile playing about her lips as she murmured, "Well, thank you, I suppose," her voice a soft, almost breathless whisper. She paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her lovely face as she studied him through lowered lashes.
"But I must say, Julien," she continued, a playful lilt to her tone, "you wear your looks even sexier than before. Is it just me, or do you seem to have grown more... ruggedly handsome with age?" Amélie tilted her head, a look of curiosity and a hint of something more, something heated, glimmering in her emerald eyes.
Julien's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and a touch of disbelief in their dark depths. He quickly averted his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture of sudden discomfort. A faint blush, a deep, ruddy hue, crept up from beneath the collar of his shirt to stain his cheeks a pretty pink.
"Julien, are you... blushing?" Amélie asked, a note of incredulous wonder in her voice as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her chin propped in her palms. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face, a look of pure, feminine satisfaction at having flustered the normally unflappable man. "I never thought I'd see the day when a few simple words from me could make the great Julien Deneuve blush like a schoolboy," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief and a touch of something more, something dark and hungry.
Julien cleared his throat, a sound of mild embarrassment that only served to heighten the blush staining his high cheekbones. "I suppose I've picked up a thing or two along the years," he said, a note of self-deprecating humor in his voice as he finally met her gaze with a rueful smile. "Apparently, one of those things is the ability to be reduced to a blushing, tongue-tied fool by a few pretty words from a beautiful woman."