Dear friends, Once again, thank you for your loyalty and your ratings. I don't stop at the few zeros—which weigh very little compared to all your 4s! These are just the reflexes of bad sleepers, frustrated or disillusioned. Why do they persist in reading me? What I appreciate most are your personal messages and our always enriching exchanges. As I already mentioned, these texts are part of a novel I'm currently writing. Initially, I thought it would be a good idea—given the editorial line of the site—to focus on rather "hard" passages. But after reading your feedback, I see that many of you also appreciate the atmosphere, the descriptions of the context, the exploration of feelings... And you're right. We can quickly get tired of stories where we discover the plumber's thong after two lines, a date turns into an orgy after a few words, a hitchhiker who gets screwed as soon as he gets into the car... I'm not criticizing: everyone has their own trip. But it's not mine. So don't be surprised if, in the next episodes, you won't find exclusively sex. I have a personal vision of human relationships, where the atmosphere and the context are essential, and above all explain the true behaviors of people. Thank you again, hoping that the direction I'm taking will suit you... Completely satisfied, this time, we let our bodies stretch out and abandon themselves to the softness of the last rays of the afternoon. The warm air still carried the chlorine scent of the pool, mingled with the scent of our skins heated by ecstasy and laziness. In this complicit silence, only the discreet lapping of the water sometimes broke the thread of our thoughts, while we recovered our breaths, our minds, meditating in secret on these wonderful moments we had just shared. Younes finally straightened up, a tired but proud smile plastered on his lips. He stretched like a sated feline, then stood up with the natural ease of those who have nothing left to prove. "I'm going to make us one last cup of tea," he said warmly before disappearing in the direction of the house. I watched him walk away, his body still vibrant with energy despite the languor weighing on us. Then I felt a slight shiver run through my skin as a gentle hand rested on my ego. She had turned towards me, her face relaxed, full of sincere satisfaction. "Pierre..." she breathed, her gaze fixed on mine. I remained silent, waiting for the rest, curious to know what she would say. She took a last drag of her cigarette before casually crushing it on the edge of the tiles.Then she moved slightly closer to me, her body still warm against mine, and continued:“I wanted to thank you… For what you gave me. You and… Younes.” She paused, her fingers absentmindedly brushing my hand, as if trying to anchor her words in reality. “You know, I’ve had many lovers in my life. Young, fiery, insatiable ones… But him… He’s different. It’s not just his body or his energy, it’s the way he has of being there, of giving himself entirely, with this raw and insolent candor… Such a violent passion that has yet to be tamed. It’s…” She hesitated, searching for words, then smiled, as if amused by her own confusion. “It’s unique.” I look at her without saying anything, letting the silence welcome her confession. “And I’m not about to forget it…” she added finally, her smile stretching gently. She let herself fall back against the mattress, arms outstretched, her gaze lost in the azure sky ablaze with coppery reflections. "It's funny... I've come to Morocco so many times, thinking I knew everything about the pleasures it could offer me. But tonight, I realized there was still so much left for me to discover." I smiled in turn, amused and moved by the sincerity of her confession. Silence fell between us again, complicit, serene. And somewhere in the house, the light sound of metal clinked against porcelain. Younes was preparing tea. How flattered he would have been to hear that! She continued, this time with a hint of hesitation, as if weighing her words before letting them out: "And... do you know many handsome men like him?" A slight smile fluttered on her lips, somewhere between mischief and sincere curiosity. Then, after a short pause, she added, more daringly , "I'd like to try it with several people... four. Why not? Or even more?" I wasn't surprised. Madeleine was a woman of unashamed desires, a woman who dared, who didn't bother with feigned modesty or useless conventions. Her request wasn't a provocation, nor even a simple fantasy, but the expression of a desire she wanted to explore. I took a drag from my cigarette and let the smoke rise slowly into the warm air before answering: " I was telling her about Daoud, mature, anchored in his virility and his certainties, but with me, with infinite tenderness." He wasn't a simple adventure, nor a simple carnal pleasure. Between him and me, it was a profound story, rooted in silences and glances. An adult, serene love, built on lived experiences, on the awareness of the passing of time. He loved like a man who has already lived through life, without illusions but without restraint either. With him, everything was complete,whole, reassuring and burning at the same time.Then I mentioned Karim, more distant, more difficult to pin down. Karim was a semi-bisexual, certainly preferring women and going with males only as a last resort. For him, it was the game above all, the conquest, the pleasure without tomorrow. Our moments together were a bit of challenges, confrontations, an underlying tension between domination and submission, a fragile balance that rested only on pure desire. With Karim, I did not share this emotional connection that I had with Daoud. It was physical, raw, intense, but never sentimental. And finally, there was Younes, the youngest, the boldest, who assumed everything. He was fully bisexual, totally comfortable with who he was, without calculation, without mask. With him, everything was instinctive, natural, without need for excuse or explanation. He went where his desire took him, without fear or compromise. He took as much pleasure anal as with his penis. "You've realized that, I think," I added. I told her I was aware of my luck, an almost insolent luck, to have encountered a family where these questions seemed to slide by without clashing, without provoking any real taboos. Whereas these relationships would have created insurmountable barriers elsewhere, here they flourished in a form of accepted unspoken things, complicit silences, as if, without ever being openly discussed, they naturally found their place in each person's balance. But above all, I confessed to her my greatest challenge: the fact that each of them would be completely ignorant of my relationships with the other. Younes didn't know about his father. Daoud didn't know about his sons. Karim knew nothing about Younes and his own father. And I juggled between them with the precision of a tightrope walker, knowing that a single misstep could bring everything crashing down. "Do you understand, Madeleine?" I said, looking her in the eyes. It's a dangerous game. If I wanted to bring them together... I'd have to break this fragile edifice. She watched me thoughtfully, finally realizing the magnitude of the situation. Then, in an amused whisper, she whispered, "Well... You must be an exceptional man to have managed to keep such a secret..." She lay back down slowly, thoughtful, and added, an indecipherable smile on her lips, "Yes, of course. I can't imagine this secret being shattered. " She turned her gaze toward me, an amused glint in her eyes. "Then one by one, at your own pace... and at the same time with you, since you seem to like it... either way, it suits me..." She lay back down, arms crossed behind her head, savoring the idea that had just arisen in her mind. Then, with an almost voluptuous sigh, she concluded, "After all,Why deprive yourself of such well-shared pleasures?We had tea like a group of friends gathered around the pool. "Okay, Younes, we're going to have to go." Madeleine got dressed, sprucing herself up with a hump and her mirror, while I put on my things. "Okay, I'll at least put on my shorts because I have to open the gate for you. You can go through the front one since you're not alone, Pierre. The neighbors won't gossip like that." Madeleine preferred to settle more comfortably in the basket of the sidecar. "I'll go open the gate for you," Younes declared. I was already sitting down, engine running, Madeleine at my side. Younes couldn't help but kiss her passionately one last time, even going so far as to gr ...

... Log in to read the end of this erotic story | 100% free registration