Audrey and Lawrence - Giselle Renarde - E-Book

Audrey and Lawrence E-Book

Giselle Renarde

0,0
5,49 €

oder
-100%
Sammeln Sie Punkte in unserem Gutscheinprogramm und kaufen Sie E-Books und Hörbücher mit bis zu 100% Rabatt.
Mehr erfahren.
Beschreibung

An affair is always easy in the beginning. There's plenty of steamy sex and getting-to-know-you. Everything is for now. Immediate gratification. No thought of the future.

That's how it starts for Audrey and Lawrence. Audrey's only concern is helping an unhappy man trapped in a sexless marriage revive the virility of his youth. That approach doesn't last long. As her affection builds, she wants more than she can have, and more than Lawrence is willing to give.

Over the course of twelve breathless stories, Giselle Renarde's famous femme fatale tips from the lofty realm of youthful adoration into the dark pit of jealous love. Will her behaviour get out of hand when the affair grows beyond her heart's control?

This complete collection includes all twelve Audrey & Lawrence stories, many of which make their premiere appearances in this special compilation.

Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:

EPUB
Bewertungen
0,0
0
0
0
0
0
Mehr Informationen
Mehr Informationen
Legimi prüft nicht, ob Rezensionen von Nutzern stammen, die den betreffenden Titel tatsächlich gekauft oder gelesen/gehört haben. Wir entfernen aber gefälschte Rezensionen.



Giselle Renarde Erotica

Audrey and Lawrence © March 2010 by Giselle Renarde

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

––––––––

Cover design © Giselle Renarde

First Edition March 2010

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Table of Contents

Disclaimer

Audrey & Lawrence | The Complete Collection | by Giselle Renarde

Foreword

Kiss the Cook

Sweet Tooth

The Maelstrom

Questions of Ultimate Concern

Mistress Audrey

Nuit Blanche

Marry Me

Burgundy Ropes and Voltaire

The Burden of Knowing

Breaking Up From Behind

Running in Circles

Shoot Niagara

ABOUT GISELLE RENARDE

You might also enjoy:

Sign up for Giselle Renarde's Mailing List

Audrey & Lawrence

The Complete Collection

by Giselle Renarde

Foreword

I WAS YOUNG ONCE.  And, like many young people, I was convinced I knew everything.

The rising generation always assumes it knows better than its elders.  It isn’t until another generation of subversives comes along to undermine our efforts that we begin to value diversity of opinion.  That, or beat our fists to the sky muttering, “Kids these days.”

Even our approach to relationships seems revolutionary when we are young people.  We are each willing to take personal credit for the inventions of everything from seduction to martyrdom.  Only after appraising the lives of family, friends, historical and literary figures whose existences superseded our own do we begin to see patterns of human interactions emerging. 

The Audrey & Lawrence series of short stories was conceived around a period of youthful impudence.  I was once like Audrey.  When I looked out into the world of men, I saw only their desolation.  Like Audrey, I knew I could save them from the inertia of their lonely lives.  I was super-human.  I was a force to be reckoned with.

It’s precisely this set of qualities that shapes unwitting Audrey into the femme fatale.  For Lawrence’s part, his acceptance of a saviour is his downfall.  He never managed to escape an upbringing that taught him meekness was blessed, even if that very docility caused him the greatest pain. 

Audrey and Lawrence are drawn to one another in part because of their polarity.  They embody sin and goodness, respectively.  But to view oneself as archetypal is to deny one’s humanity.  Notice throughout most of these stories, Audrey’s orientation is toward herself and Lawrence.  Notice also that she’s only concerned with Lawrence in relation to herself.  She isn’t terribly interested in his life outside her bedroom.  Similarly, the reader must begin to wonder, “Does this woman have no friends?  No family?  Where is her life?” 

Audrey shapes herself into a fatal anti-hero in her belief that she is doing right by all.  Like a child, she is ego-centric.  She truly believes that what is best for her is best for everyone.

The wisdom of years is the realization that what we know is negligible in relation to all that remains to be known.  The only “happily ever after” Audrey can conceive of involves Lawrence leaving his wife to marry her.  In our assessment of their relationship, we must wonder if there is not some happier alternative.

Giselle Renarde

Toronto, 2010

Kiss the Cook

“HOW ARE EGGS BENEDICT like oral sex?”

“I don’t know, Lawrence.  How are Eggs Benedict like oral sex?”

“You don’t get either at home,” he chuckled.

My stomach plunged six stories.  You don’t get either at home?  I guess he meant it as some kind of a veiled compliment, but still...Lawrence wasn’t usually so crass.  Even if the insult wasn’t aimed at me, it still hurt to hear him say something so mean-spirited.

“Groan,” I said, pretending to find his joke merely innocuous.  Why did I always do that?  Pretend to be perpetually un-offended, I mean.  Kissing my way across Lawrence’s fleshy abdomen, I nuzzled his pubic hair from top to balls, taking in that quintessentially male aroma of spent cock.  Pure sex.  Now that was good stuff!  What a bad joke, though.  So bad I couldn’t relax after the rather incredible blowjob I’d just given him.  This time, I had to say something.

“I don’t like it when you criticize your wife,” I confessed, running my fingers through those curly greying hairs. 

Shaking his bald but beautiful head like he was scrambling eggs in there, Lawrence looked down at me. 

“It’s very unbecoming,” I continued.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he claimed.  He claimed.

“Eggs Benedict?  Look, I know you and...” I tried to say Ruth, but it just wasn’t happening. His wife’s name was the only taboo word in our repertoire.  “I know you and she don’t have a satisfying sex life...”

“It’s not a matter of satisfying or unsatisfying,” Lawrence interrupted.  “There is no sex life.  It doesn’t exist.”

The jealousy I’d felt only a moment earlier was eagerly consumed by schadenfreude. I was the only girl for Lawrence.  Audrey LeBreton plus Lawrence Galloway equals {heart} 4-ever!  At least that’s what I chose to believe.

Laying my breasts on his exhausted cock, I hugged my man around his butt, rocking side to side like a kid with a doll.  “I’m so glad,” I admitted.  “I can’t stand the thought of you...” I couldn’t bring myself to say those words, sleeping with your wife.  Eww!  Gross!  Yuck!  It was like picturing your parents having sex.  “Well, just imagine me having sex with another man.”

“I can’t,” Lawrence replied, covering his ears like the hear no evil monkey.  “No, the idea turns my stomach.  It’s...it’s...upsetting.”

That’s when a thought occurred to me.  “Hey Lawr, if we follow your joke to its natural conclusion, it suggests nobody’s getting any oral loving—not the guys, not the girls.” 

“Not the married guys and girls.  Not at home, at any rate,” he corrected my logic.  He still didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at, though.  He couldn’t complain about not getting it at home when his w-word wasn’t getting it either.

“I have trouble believing that’s universally true,” I disputed, kissing his pillowy belly.  “But what the hell do I know?  You’re the one who’s married.”

Statements like that always resulted in silence.  His silence was precautionary, anticipating an argument.  Mine was sometimes contemplative, sometimes wallowing.  That morning, I was merely re-evaluating my position.

When the silence looming like rain clouds above our heads grew too cumbersome, Lawrence spoke up.  “You know how you’re always asking me if I have any fantasies?”

“...and you’re always telling me all your fantasies are memories of our love-making?  Yes, I know.  You’re so boring that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence began with that trademark kicked-puppy expression on his face.  “But I think you’ll find me less boring after today.  I finally thought of a fantasy.”

He’d been fantasizing about me?  Oh, my insides shivered with anticipation!  What would it be?  A bit of kink?  Role-play?  Something involving a whip, perhaps?  Or whipped cream, at the very least.

“I’d like to shave your pussy.”

What?

“You want me to shave?” I whimpered, combing my dark pubic hair with my fingers.  It was neatly manicured.  Well, not perfect, but it was certainly no briar patch.  “Why?  What’s wrong with it?  You think I’m too hairy?”

“No, no of course not,” Lawrence consoled, running his hands through the mess of hair on my head.  “See?  This is why I didn’t want to tell you!  I didn’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

Shaking off the initial hesitance, I had to remind myself that a good mistress is up for anything.  And I’d always been a good mistress...

“Ok,” I began, falling right back into the realm of uncertainty.  “But why, if you don’t think I’m too hairy, do you want me to shave?”

Lawrence smiled affectionately, his eyes all tenderness and light.  “No, Audrey, it’s not that I want you to shave.  In my fantasy, I’m shaving you.”

Oh.  That put an entirely different spin on the matter.  He wanted to shave me!  How kinky was that? Perhaps Lawrence’s mind was every bit as filthy as mine, and he just did a better job of hiding it. 

Hopping out of bed, I squealed, “Let’s do it!”

Plus on est de fou, plus on rit!

* * * *

IN MY LITTLE WHITE bathroom, I fished a new razor from the cupboard while Lawrence set one of my thick burgundy towels over the toilet lid.

“Have a seat,” he bid.  “Do you have a set of manicure scissors?”

Plunking myself down on the towel, I grabbed the tiny shears from a dish beside the sink.  Lawrence sat his naked ass before me on the ceramic tile.  Under the bright fluorescent light, he stared straight into my cunt as it unfolded like a moist calla lily.

“Some women might be embarrassed sitting like this,” it occurred to me.

“Are you?”

“No,” I said, petting the soft hair at the back of my man’s head.  I truly wasn’t.  “You think my pussy is attractive, right?  So I don’t mind.”

“I think your pussy is beautiful,” Lawrence agreed, kissing my pubic hair softly.  My insides tingled with anticipation until I was tempted to drop my body into Lawrence’s lap and fuck his brains out right there on the bathroom floor. But no.  La patience paye.  Waiting for my dessert would only grow my desire.

Lawrence started out tickling my front by clipping the dark hairs.  When he was finished, he grasped me by the ankle and placed that foot on the side of the bathtub.  His noble face so wrapped in concentration, the lines deepened around his squinting eyes.  Suddenly he appeared much older.  It gave me an idea of how he must look at work, with his nose stuck in a book, taking in all that information.  Ostie, was he ever smart!  Even as he brushed the dark hairs from my abdomen, Lawrence looked like a genius.

To protect my tender flesh from the sharp manicure scissors, Lawrence set a full finger firmly down on my wet pussy lips.  My body fluttered like it was being carried to Mexico by monarch butterflies.  I couldn’t help but tremble.

“You have to keep still,” Lawrence scolded like those students at the haircutting school where maman took me as a child.  “The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

“I know, but it’s so hard,” I whined.  “Every time you touch me, I just want to grab your cock and ride it ‘til you come!”

Lawrence smiled that smile he smiled when he was trying not to smile.  My bashful chum!  Not so bashful right now, though, snipping with great care at the hairs along my slit.  I could feel my pussy muscles grasping, praying for action, with every crunch of the scissors.  Maybe he could slip one of those handsome fingers between my wet folds, just to tide me over?

But then my bald beauty placed the scissors back in the bowl.  Rising to his feet with an amount of effort befitting a man of his years, Lawrence ran some water into the basin and dipped in the razor, swishing it about.  I don’t know what I must have looked like, but he asked if I was nervous.

“I don’t think so,” I replied, staring at the three razor-sharp stainless steel blades.  “I know you’ll be careful.”

Grabbing the shave gel from my shower, he said, “I shall treat your body as if it were my own.”

“I know you will.  That’s why I love you.”

Dampening my facecloth in the sink, Lawrence laid it over my pelvis like he was tucking a doll into bed.  The warm water soothed my flesh like a tender massage.  Lawrence circled the cloth around a bit, pressing against my mound.  He kissed me fleetingly before removing the sopping fabric.  Ah, que c’était bon! 

As Lawrence sprayed some berry-scented shave gel into his palm, rubbing it into the very short hair of my pubis, I nearly jumped again. That gel felt very cold against my warm flesh.  Merde, I would have to contain myself if I didn’t want to get nicked by those shiny metal blades!  With nothing to take hold of as the razor approached my naked flesh, I bunched up the burgundy towel in my hands.  Please don’t cut me!

Squeezing my eyes shut as the razor met my skin, I could only tell where Lawrence had shaven by the cold lines it left down my front.  I heard him splash the razor in the basin, then retrace his steps with more warm water and more shave gel.  When I opened my eyes, my mound was pristine but for the hair surrounding my slit.  Lawrence admired me tenderly, smoothing the warm cloth against my baby-smooth skin, tracing his finger along my jaw line, along the curve of my breast.  His work was breathtaking.

“You’re not finished yet,” I said as Lawrence set the razor down.

“I’m not?”

“You’re not,” I declared, opening wide my legs.  “You have to shave between my thighs as well.”

“Mais oui!  But of course,” Lawrence imitated my accent.  Like he would have forgotten!  Now that we were half way through the task, I was getting really into it.  I got that same butterfly feeling, even more intense this time, when Lawrence pressed his fingers over my pussy lips to guard them.  Oh, if that man didn’t fuck me soon...

“How did you end up with a fantasy like this?” I asked, trying not to shudder as my delicious chum dragged the cold razor through the dip between my thigh and my mound.

He was silent for a moment, deep in concentration, trying not to injure me as he shaved.  Massaging shave gel into the other dip, he dragged the razor up that side too.  I held tight to my towel.  When he got up to rinse some water through the blades, he finally answered my question with an, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?  How can you not know?”

“I don’t know.”

An enigma, that man.  As shadowy as I perceived myself to be, I was nothing of a mystery compared to my Lawrence.  Clean razor in hand, he shaved every last hair from around my slit with swift passes of the blades.  I’d never been so nervous and so turned-on both at once.  With my pussy pumping out clear nectar, those full fingers pressing my lower lips could easily slide and...

“Close your eyes,” Lawrence bid, and I did.  The hot washcloth pressed on my mound once again, and my temperature rose to greet it.  Unbelievable how fresh my skin felt, unhindered by all that hair.  I felt virginal, somehow, like pubic hair represented my sins, and now all were gone.

“Open them,” Lawrence cried, his voice brimming with glee.  He had my hand-held mirror between my legs so I could get a good look at his handiwork.

“Ah, come c’est belle!” I applauded, leaning forward to kiss my happy puppy.  Never in my life had I felt so bare, so utterly and completely nude.  It was a freeing feeling.

“You’re pretty as a picture, Audrey.  Pretty as Venus riding that clamshell.”

My bald beauty always knew exactly what to say, but sometimes I got stuck.  Sometimes it wasn’t so fluid, changing gears from français to English.  That’s when I wound up saying things like, “You’re pretty too, Lawrence.”

As a final treat, my darling man washed my soapy self down in the shower.  Let me tell you, when he cupped my ass with one hand and set the warm water from the shower-head against my pussy, I thought I would come on the spot!  Maybe I did, I don’t know.  After running that water over my thighs and my ass until all the shave gel and bits of hair were gone, he teased my tits. 

Hooking the showerhead back into the bracket, Lawrence took a seat on the tub ledge.  He just looked at me as I stood against the white tile wall.  “How did you become so beautiful?”

Ah, my heart fluttered.  “Years of practise.”

Lawrence chuckled, gazing at my nubile cunt.  His adorable expression modulated, becoming rough and eager, until my man was growling like a black bear.  He reached toward me.  With two fingers extended the way the British flip the bird, he pressed my shaven pussy lips tightly together.  My glistening pink clit popped out from between the two snow-white slopes as he pulled my juicy pussy to his mouth.  Nearly tumbling over, I had to catch the soap dish to keep steady.  Lawrence slid his strong fingers up and down on either side of my shaved lips.  The pressure caused me to cry out, Tabernak!

Slumped over my cunt like a greedy scavenger consuming a morsel of flesh, Lawrence appeared so much the red-blooded male.  When he lolled out his tongue and pressed it flat against my white mound, still pressing either side, I was near ecstasy. Without all that hair in the way, his tongue was so close, so beautifully close to my skin.  That hot slab of mouth meat traced its way up my smooth lips, showing no regard for my bulging clit.  Oh, my knees just about gave out when he did it again.  Lawrence had never given me head so forceful or animalistic.  His untamed tongue made me wild.  As the warm shower beat down against my straining breasts, I wished he had a head full of hair for me to latch onto.

Finally Lawrence showed some specialized attention to the tip of my clit, which stuck out from between my pussy lips.  He licked against it, repeatedly, his tongue flat and firm.  With my free hand, I pinched my nipples so hard I shrieked with delight.  That’s when he released my cunt from his strong grasp.  My folds spread in every direction like a tiger lily.  Grabbing my thighs with his bare bear hands, he licked again, long and hard, right against my juicy hole. Ostie!  Tabernak!  What an animal Lawrence had become!

Like a lion devouring a gazelle, Lawrence slurped up my nectar along with the shower water streaming down my stomach.  After sipping my juices, his chin glistened.  He looked up at me, fire blazing in his sky-blue eyes.  Oh, there was nothing hotter than a fierce gentleman whose mouth gleamed with pussy water!  Nothing hotter in the whole, wide world!

And then came the sucking, the sucking, the slurping sucking, and it was so unfathomably good I thought I would die.  The arch of my pussy lips, culminating in my clit, seemed to be absorbed somehow, or stuck beneath his soft pink upper lip.  Ostie et Tabernak, the suction was like nothing I’d ever felt, like a black hole was consuming my body clit-first. 

“N’arrête jamais de me lecher!” I cried. 

He didn’t stop licking me, but I doubt if that was because he understood my French.  Lawrence growled and the vibrations sent shivers through my core, reminding me how empty I felt.

“Keep growling, and finger me too!” I instructed, like this was life-or-death.