“God.”“How about Sandrine, Amélie?”“I want you to fuck her, too. I want to watch.”“Only watch?”Between her gasps, Amélie said, “I ...ant her to eat me while you fuck her.”Gérard laughed.“Done.”As he spoke, there was a soft knock on the door, and Sandrine entered. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Gérard and Amélie. Setting the breakfast tray on a side table, she stepped slowly toward the bed. Her smile was wide.“Mademoiselle? Monsieur?”Gérard stopped what he was doing and turned to. By the time dinner was ready we were almost through the first bottle of wine; the conversation was moving well, going from one subject to another with ease.The meal, accompanied by another bottle of wine, followed. When we’d finished the meal we sat in the lounge, talking and savouring the wine. Jessie said she loved wine and had been encouraged to drink sensibly by her parents from the age of thirteen. I don’t think her parents would think that two bottles was sensible, but they were on. More

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