He smiled as he left Paris. He was still not fully recovered from Scotland physically, but financially, things could not have been better.It was mid-F...bruary by the time Jean returned to Campomesnils. Marguerite seemed pleased to see him, rushing into his arms and crying against his chest. However, as he tried to speak with her, he could see something was different. She was not listening to his story of the visit to the King and seemed distracted.He went to his mother and asked if something had. "What do you think about?" I asked, curious about her sexual life."Shhhh," she said. "Sex now, talk later." I was overtalking. Her vagina was becoming more responsive as the skin seemed to melt under my caress. Being up against her from head to toe, I could feel all the little reactions her body made to being touched. At first, they were minimal, just small muscle contractions every now and then. Then small shudders. Her pussy produced more lube, a fresh trickle every few minutes flowing out of. I can feel the soft curves of her breasts against my own, her skirt is high on her thighs and her bare legs are pressed against my jeans. I lose myself in her kiss, our mouths exploring and hungry. I tear my lips from hers and press them to her throat, nibbling softly. She lets out a soft cry that encourages me to continue. My hands slide up her body, my fingertips just barely caressing her soft skin. Tiffany meets my eyes triumphantly and pulls her shirt over her head. My breathing catches as. "Better not take any chances,” she murmured half to herself. Kneeling in front of me, she looked up and said, I'm going to put this on you, try not to come in my face. With agonizing slowness she rolled the condom over my cock and then she said, "Put your cock in her now." I knelt behind Sandra and slid my aching prick into the warmest and wettest cunt I have ever felt. I could feel Sandy's fingers still rubbing her clit. Susan did not need to worry about me shooting inside of Sandy. It wasn't.