Chapter 10: Season 1 - Montpelier and Narbonne

It took us five hours to drive from St Tropez to Montpelier. We could have done it in less time but we bypassed Toulon and Marseille, driving the longer distance via Aix le Provence, Arles, and Nimes. We had a late breakfast/ early lunch in Aix en Provence and arrived in Montpelier just after one thirty p.m. We had been booked into a 5 star hotel to the east of the city centre, adjacent to the Rue de Doscares. The Chevalier knew the city well and drove us to our destination without missing a turn.

We arrived at the hotel, booked into our suite, and while I unpacked our suitcases and hung the Chevalier’s suits in his wardrobe he called Madame Meggyesfalvi on his portable phone.

“We are to meet our new companions in the hotel’s conservatory lounge in ten minutes. Madame Meggyesfalvi speaks excellent French and sounds a most delightful person,” he said, after his phone conversation.

The prospects of a pleasant two weeks seemed bright, assuming I was in first class box ticking mode and the boxes were tickable.

Ten minutes later we came face to face with Luella and Eszter Meggyesfalvi. Luella had a fuller figure than in her photograph but not unduly so, and she certainly was not as fat as Juicy Lucie Closteau who I had handled with no problem at all, other than her juiciness of course. Eszter was even more of a knockout in the flesh than in her photograph. She oozed sex appeal, not unlike Bernadette Beauchamp, and I saw the Chevalier’s eyes light up in pleasure when they landed on the sex kitten.

After introductions were made Madame Meggyesfalvi spoke to the Chevalier. “I need to have a private word with your grandson as he is to be my – “she hesitated, reaching for an appropriate synonym for gigolo, “ – escort – rather than Eszter’s, and I can already see that you and she will get on like a house on fire.” The Chevalier was taken aback by Madame Meggyesfalvi’s directness, a typical Anglo characteristic, as was I by her assumption of my relationship to the Chevalier. Nonetheless, Luella had hit the nail on the head as far as the Chevalier and Eszter were concerned. Both had licked their lips in anticipation on seeing each other.

“Very well, Madame,” the Chevalier said. “Perhaps Mam’selle Eszter would like to join me in the bar for an aperitif?” Eszter nodded her head in vigorous agreement to his suggestion, and the pair left the room with Eszter clinging to the Chevalier’s arm like a besotted barnacle. Madame Meggyesfalvi fixed me with a calculating gaze as if weighing me up.

“OK, here’s the pitch, Rafael, “she paused. “Rafael’s a Spanish name but you are French?”

I explained my parentage and she smiled. “I speak Spanish, Mexican Spanish, but I was understood in Madrid and Barcelona. However, before we get any better acquainted I should tell you I have a kink, a fetish, I suppose it could be called...”

‘Here it comes’, I thought, ‘one of her boxes is water sports and another is scat. She’s going to ask me to piss over her, or she wants to piss over me or –.’ The other things she might demand were too disgusting for me to contemplate so I didn’t and just readied myself to refuse her request and be dismissed from her service, thus letting down the Chevalier and probably ending my career as a gigolo. Madame Meggyesfalvi ignored, or probably didn’t even notice, the concern, indecision, alarm, and several other emotions that flittered across my face because she kept on talking.

“ ... and I want the guy screwing me to call me ‘Mommy’ when he comes.” She finished speaking and regarded me with an interrogative look.

It was quirky but nothing as bad as I thought it might be. “You want me to call you Mommy – is that all?” I asked, mightily relieved.

“Yeah, but only when you’re about to come. Like you’re asking for my permission.” She shrugged her shoulders. “OK, so it’s kinda kinky but no worse than a lot of things I’ve done for guys in the past. So are you OK with what I want?”

The relief I felt must have come out in my reply. “Of course. No problem at all. Madame Meggyesf...”

She laid a hand on my arm and stopped me. “I’m Luella, Rafe, or Ella to my friends, and I just know we are going to be good friends, bosom pals you might say.” She leaned into me and gave me a full blooded kiss, her tongue sliding sensuously into my mouth and entwining around my tongue while her hand explored my groin.

The prospects of a pleasant two weeks seemed bright, incandescent in fact.

The two weeks passed swiftly and as pleasantly as surmised. Mornings were spent exploring Montpelier and the local area; the Chevalier was an expert on the region. We walked through the narrow alleyways and streets of old Montpelier, the females shopped at the numerous boutiques and we ate at many of the restaurants, bistros and gastro bars in the historic centre of the city. Afternoons were spent visiting churches, palaces, art galleries, or vineries. Evenings, as Ella was all for culture, we attended concerts or plays. The nights were spent exploring the range, depth, and extent of my new boson pal’s sexual expertise. ‘Vast’ would be the most fitting word to describe Ella’s dexterity and skill when it came to sexual congress and the ancillary activities surrounding that sublime act.

Before her marriage Ella had worked as a croupier and part-time pleasure girl in Las Vegas. She had gone to Sin City as a dancer but was a tad too short to be a showgirl and instead found employment in a casino and engaged in horizontal dancing when winning punters wanted to share their good fortune with sexy, attractive, young women. She learned her trade well, and during the late evening and nights in her bed she passed much of her know-how on to me.

As instructed I would ask, implore, beg, ‘Mommy’ to allow me ‘cum in her pussy’, as American females refer to their vaginas. I always was given permission and wondered what would happen if she refused ‘Chuck’, as she called me at the moment of her climax.

I assumed Chuck was her son but later in the week Eszter told me Ella had no children. Weird or what?

Ella managed to do what the Chevalier failed to do; it was she who taught me the rudiments of poker. She had been a croupier at Las Vegas and was almost as skilled a player as the Chevalier. However, even though I mastered the basics under her tutelage I do not consider myself a skilled player. It seems I have too many ‘tells’ to be an expert, but at least I can take part in games and not disgrace myself or the Chevalier. Ella was also a connoisseur of wines, and we visited one of the many wineries in the area where she chose a shipping order of their best produce to be sent back to Poughkeepsie. This involved her and the Chevalier, also a connoisseur, tasting and sampling many vintages, and many variants of the local grape. After twenty minutes of watching the pair sipping, sniffing, spitting, and smiling as they discussed with the vintner the bottles they were assessing, Eszter grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room.

“We are going for a walk,” she announced over her shoulder. “The proprietor of the vineyard says he keeps a herd of Alpacas on the estate. Rafael and I will go see them.” Ella and the Chevalier gave a half nod of acknowledgement, still absorbed with what they were doing. I had already been given carte blanche by the Chevalier to give Eszter whatever she asked, so guessed it wasn’t just Alpacas I was going to see.

In fact, I never saw any Alpacas as Eszter pulled me into a passionate embrace as soon as we were in a secluded copse. Naturally I reciprocated and we ended up in a writhing, sweaty, frenzied session of al fresco horizontal dancing on the verdant grass beneath leafy hazel and beech trees. It was reminiscent of the couplings I had enjoyed in Le Boulou before I went to Biarritz. Only Eszter’s knickers were removed; she wore no brassiere and her blouse buttons were soon undone and my eager mouth at her nipples while my equally eager zob was devoured by her gluttonous quim. This was the first time Eszter and I participated in full-on sex although we had indulged in heavy petting in the back seat of the Mercedes when the Chevalier and Ella were playing cards in the hotel casino. Happily, it wasn’t the last time, and for the last week in Montpelier I kept both females sated, and I didn’t need permission from Eszter to ejaculate into her.

The two weeks came to a close. All four of us had enjoyed the experience and it was a saddened quartet waiting at Montpelier’s municipal airport before the Meggyesfalvis flew off to Paris and from there to New York.

Ella gave me a lingering tongue sucking kiss. “Thank you for being such a lusty and loving companion, Rafael,” she said after evacuating the breath from my lungs. She handed me a package that when unwrapped revealed a 22 carat gold identity bracelet. “Remember me when you wear it, Chuck baby,” she whispered in my ear.