Snowbound with My French Ex

The moment I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the isolated mountain chalet, the familiar scent of her perfume hit me like a slap. Elise stood by the roaring fireplace in a tight black turtleneck and ski pants that hugged every curve of her perfect French ass, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. Six months apart hadn’t dulled the raw hunger I felt for her; if anything, the sight of her full lips parting in surprise made my cock twitch instantly. Outside, thick snow swirled against the windows, sealing us in for the night.

“Putain… what are you doing here, Marc?” she breathed, her accent thick and smoky, eyes narrowing even as her nipples visibly hardened under the thin wool.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, kicking the door shut behind me, snow melting off my boots. “The agency double-booked the place. Looks like we’re stuck together until the storm clears.”

She crossed her arms, but the way she bit her lower lip told me everything. “This is ridiculous. After the way we ended things in Paris… you expect me to share a bed with you?”

I dropped my bag and stepped closer, the heat from the fire doing nothing to match the burn between us. “I don’t expect anything, Elise. But I remember how you used to beg for my cock when you got like this. All prickly and wet.”

Her breath hitched. She didn’t back away. Instead she laughed, low and dirty. “You arrogant bastard. You think you can just walk in and—”

I cut her off by grabbing her waist and pulling her against me. Our mouths crashed together in a fierce kiss, tongues sliding hot and urgent. She moaned into my mouth, fingers digging into my shoulders as I squeezed her juicy ass hard. In seconds her turtleneck was yanked over her head, revealing lacy red lingerie that barely contained her heavy tits.

“Fuck, I missed these,” I growled, palming her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples until she gasped.

“Alors, stop talking and fuck me already,” she demanded, her French accent thickening with lust. She shoved her hand down my pants, wrapping her fingers around my throbbing cock. “Mmm, still so big and hard for me. Salopard.”

We stumbled toward the thick rug in front of the fire. I dropped to my knees, ripping her ski pants and panties down in one motion. Her shaved pussy glistened, already dripping. I buried my face between her thighs, licking her swollen clit with long, hungry strokes while two fingers plunged deep inside her tight cunt.

“Oh merde… yes, just like that,” Elise cried, hips bucking against my tongue. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me harder into her wet heat. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and musky, her juices coating my chin as I sucked her clit between my lips and flicked it rapidly.

She came fast, thighs trembling around my head, screaming my name in that sexy Parisian accent. “Marc! Je jouis… fuck!”

Before she could catch her breath I stood, shedding my clothes. My cock sprang free, thick and veined, pre-cum already beading at the tip. Elise licked her lips, eyes dark with need. She pushed me onto the leather couch, straddling me reverse cowgirl so I had the perfect view of her firm ass.

“Watch me take you,” she purred, reaching back to guide my dick to her entrance. She sank down slowly, her slick pussy stretching around my girth until I was buried to the balls. “Ahhh… so full. Your cock fills me perfectly, mon amour.”

I groaned, hands gripping her hips as she started riding me hard, ass cheeks slapping against my thighs with every bounce. The wet sounds of her cunt devouring my cock filled the chalet, mixing with her filthy moans. I reached around to rub her clit while my other hand spanked her juicy ass, leaving red marks that made her clench tighter.

“Harder, Elise. Fuck me like you hate me,” I grunted.

She laughed breathlessly and slammed down faster, grinding her clit against my fingers. “I do hate you… for making me crave this dick so much. Merde, I’m going to cum again!”

Her pussy fluttered and squeezed me like a vice as she shattered, gushing wetness down my shaft. I couldn’t hold back. Flipping her onto all fours on the rug, I mounted her from behind, pounding her soaked cunt with deep, punishing strokes. Her tits swung beneath her, nipples brushing the soft fibers as I yanked her hair, arching her back.

“Tell me you want my cum,” I demanded, balls slapping her clit with every thrust.

“Yes… give it to me. Fill my pussy, Marc. I want to feel you leaking out of me all night,” she gasped, pushing back to meet every brutal thrust.

The pressure built fast. I roared as I exploded, pumping thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her spasming walls. She came a third time with me, her French curses turning into incoherent cries of pleasure.

We collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, my cock still twitching inside her as the fire crackled. Elise turned her head, kissing me softly, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief.

“Storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” she whispered, clenching her pussy around me again. “Good thing I still know exactly how to make you hard in under a minute, non?”

I grinned, already feeling my dick stir. “Then we’d better make the most of this chalet, my filthy French girl.”