The Estate: Part Six – The Terrace (F)(Solo)(FM)(Cheating)(Facial)

[Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/goy94e/the_parlor_fmm/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gp42hi/the_parlor_part_ii_interlude/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Three A](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gpls57/the_estate_part_iii_the_cottage_mfff/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Three B](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gqqh3w/the_estate_part_iii_the_cottage_continued/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Three C](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gr5xan/the_estate_part_iii_c_the_cottage_concluded/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Four](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gtz1nc/the_estate_part_four_the_studio_mffvoyeur/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

[Part Five](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gvvfgt/the_estate_part_five_the_garden_ff/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

The Estate: Part Six – The Terrace 
 
Chapter One

We entered the Mansion from a discrete door just off the side of the Kitchen. In a moment of vulnerability, Katarina explained that she often escaped through this door when she needed a break from the debauchery of her clandestine parties or the humdrum of her overt gatherings. I had come to learn that these events were often attended by the same invitees; although, their disguised personas rarely reflected their candid identities.

Spying her chef, Katarina paused near the kitchen door. “Meet me in the Parlor after dinner, will you?”  She placed her hand lightly on the back of my shoulder as if she were an omnipotent force ensuring my inertia would continue down the hall. Before I could muster a reply, Katarina caught the chef’s attention and struck up conversation plotting for the upcoming event.  

My residency at the Estate was a curious existence. I seemed to have absolute autonomy and unrestricted use of the Estate’s staff and facilities. However, I was not the sole guest. More often than not, the Mansion’s vast halls were occupied by at least one or two other iterant souls. These callers ranged from foreign diplomats to wandering artists and vagabonds. Apart from her formal events, Katarina never arranged for collective dining or entertainment. Not to say that these gatherings did not occur by happenstance, just that Katarina appeared to respect each’s independence and truly placed her Estate at their disposal.

I continued on to my room and hoped to clean the dirt from my knees. I filled the bath with just enough water to cover my legs. As the coarse sea sponge worked the dirt away, I reflected on my afternoon with Katarina. I clearly felt something for her. Exactly what I felt was as enigmatic as the girl herself. Did I feel love? I mean, my stomach did fill with butterflies every time I thought of her. In fact, the mere expectation of seeing her was enough to cripple me. Embarrassingly, the moments leading up to each encounter filled my stomach with a gas-like pain that is hard to forget.

But how can I be sure that this is not simply lust? It hurt when I finally scrubbed the dirt out of my left knee. The water splashed as I moved on to the right. Katarina is certainly attractive. I take that back, Katarina is beyond magnetic. Just picturing her leaning back with her legs wrapped around Pierre’s neck is enough to make we want to scream with reckless abandon. Her beguiling aesthetic consists of more than her natural features; it radiates from the very clash of her glamorous composure and sexual confidence.

I thought back to the first time I felt the flutter in my stomach. It was in the cottage when Katarina cooly straddled me while teaching me how to restrain the Roman. I looked down between my thighs and recalled the time Katarina ate me out on the chaise lounge while my husband indulged himself in Jessica. Even as I soaked there scrubbing dirt from the cracks of my knees, Katarina had the ability to make me wet. I contracted my pelvic muscles hoping to swallow the urge to fuck myself right there and then.

I dropped the sponge on the marble floor and squirmed in the shallow water. I bit my lip and opened my thighs, pressing my legs against the bath’s cold bronze trim. I firmly rubbed my clit in a vertical direction. I was losing control. Fuck Katarina for doing this to me. I licked my fingers before changing to a circular direction. Fuck her presumptive invitations. I inserted two fingers and grasped at my neck. Against the sloshing water, I lightly joked myself. Love, lust, whatever, fuck the leash she had on me.

Chapter Two

I found myself eating dinner on the terrace with Pierre that evening. Before leaving, the chef had prepared a delectable chicken Caesar salad. Like a kid, Pierre confessed that it was his favorite and that he had requested it several times this week. His toned arms flexed through a black ribbed tank top as he lifted the bowl from the fridge. I couldn’t help but notice the faint outline of his long cock bulging beneath his gray sweatpants.

I hadn’t yet entertained Katarina’s suggestion that I join Pierre for a painting session. So far, with the exception of the garden, everything I had done here had been tethered someway to my husband. Even the night I lost myself in the Parlor, I did so with the unknowing gaze of the Roman. To fuck Pierre would be a step too far, I couldn’t do that. Could I?

Pierre enlightened me on his friendship with Katarina. He recounted how they had met several years ago on one of the winding stairways within the Montmartre district of Paris. At the time he was peddling a few of his early paintings. He was surprised at the level of appreciation Katarina showed for his work. He didn’t necessarily advertise the intimate connection he had with his subjects and yet Katarina knew instantly. He recalled how they spent four days holed up in his apartment as she helped him refine and master his niche.

“I owe her a lot” Pierre professed. “Yes for her hospitality, but more for the awakening she provided me. I had my talent back then but Katarina gave me the confidence to embrace it.”

Pierre’s story rekindled the fire in my pelvis. I was brought back to that day in the Studio, to those brief moments when I watched Katarina satisfy herself on the chair. I couldn’t imagine how intense those four days in Montmartre must have been. I imagined Pierre thrust his long cock into Katarina in a million different ways.

“I’m not making you horny am I?” Pierre caught me in my fantasy.

“No. No.” I blushed. “I’ve just never been to Paris”

“For a minute, I thought we might finally have a chance to work together.” Pierre teased.

He stood up. The iron chair screeched as it slid back on the terrace. He stuck his hand out, welcoming me to stand up.

I stood to meet him. Why couldn’t I stop?

“I don’t have my camera, but I have a great memory.” Pierre grabbed me by the waist and lifted me onto the table.

Lying on my back I reached through my thighs and into Pierre’s waistband. I pulled his cock from his sweatpants and ran it through my hands. It was even larger than I had guessed.

I can’t do this I told myself. I placed my left hand to my forehead and closed my eyes. Why did I keep my right hand on Pierre? I placed his cock against my stomach and felt that his head was considerably passed my navel. It’s so big. I uttered aloud.

Pierre muttered something but I couldn’t hear it over the debate in my head. It will probably hurt. This is just a break from John. He’s likely just working. You still love him. At the same time, I started to justify the act. John was the one who left me. He’s up in Boston fucking who knows what. This is just meaningless sex.

Through all of this, my mind didn’t picture John. I could only picture Katarina and the studio. A third voice started to dominate the debate. Pierre — this cock— it was a way to be closer to Katarina. I saw it as a perverse way of being intimate with her. She wanted me to fuck him. She wanted me to experience the ecstasy she demonstrated in the studio.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I finally heard Pierre. Although it seemed like an eternity, my inner squabble only lasted a few moments.

“Yes, be gentle.”

I was wearing a red draped kimono dress. That said, Pierre had no difficulty in removing my thong or pulling my body toward his mouth. Thankfully, he went down on me for several minutes. I was well lubricated by the time he started to work himself into me.

Despite my nervousness, Pierre’s dick didn’t really feel much different than others. What was exceptional was how easy it was for him to fill the deepest part of my vagina. I was turned on by how effortlessly he could achieve this task. Instead of having to thrust himself on top of me, he could slowly reach my cervix with just the smooth movement of his hips.

Pierre fucked me slowly like this for a few minutes. With his hands on my ankles, he spread my legs and watched as I rubbed my clit. As we hastened our rhythm, I moaned to the deep cervical stimulation.

Perhaps the greatest part of Pierre’s endowment was how much fun it was to fuck him standing. After we had almost tipped the table over, he lifted me into the air. I placed my arms around his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. I had to support most of my weight while he inserted himself, but he soon took control by placing his hands under my thighs. My boots now dangled freely behind his back. John always struggled in this position. He often held back, afraid he would slip out.

Apparently, Pierre did not share this concern. The moment he had me in his grip, he lifted me up and down every inch of his shaft. After a minute or two, Pierre shifted my weight to his forearms and had me lean back with my arms fully extended around his neck. I pictured Katarina in the studio leaning back in a similar pose. Once we settled into this position he began to thrust rapidly. I couldn’t believe how incredible it felt. I was practically screaming with pleasure and had entirely forgot we were on the outside terrace.

The ecstasy erased all of the anxiousness I had felt before. When Pierre paused, we kissed passionately. He turned to face the garden and walked me closer to the stone railing. I leaned back and placed my hands upon the cold stone. He continued to fuck me just as hard. Neither of us was concerned with the fact that he was just one good thrust away from fucking me off the terrace.

My arms were quickly tiring. A few grunts hinted that Pierre would give in first.

“I’m going to come.”

“Not on my dress!” I quickly fell to the floor and grabbed Pierre’s throbbing cock in my hands. I barely had time to bring it to my mouth when he came across my lips and face. It was a large load that risked running down my chin.

Pierre politely grabbed a napkin and helped me clean up. “You’re going to be late for Katarina.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/h0vbo6/the_estate_part_six_the_terrace