I had been exchanging letters with my penpal, Camille, since March 2020. Like a lot of people, I was stuck inside, on my own for much of the early part of the pandemic and I figured this would be a good way to pass the time. You have no idea how exciting receiving a handwritten letter is when the only thing you did that day was go to buy milk.
I found Camille through a penpal website that introduces people with similar interests. The way it worked was you put in your name, age and hobbies and you were matched with someone.
In our first letters, we explained who we were and what we did. I told her I was 19 years old and was a student. In her reply I learned she was 27 and an English teacher in a school in France. We hit it off (as much as you can through letters) immediately. I think she enjoyed hearing the perspective of someone slightly younger and I appreciated her advice.
Throughout this whole time, I never saw what she looked like once (we had agreed early on to not share our social media accounts) and that didn’t matter much anyway because I knew she had a boyfriend. There was never any sexual component to our conversations; as horny as I was during the early days of lockdown, I wasn’t going to start thinking about a woman I had never seen who lived in a different country and was in a relationship.
Our relationship remained strong throughout the rest of 2020 and stretching into 2021 and we continued to swap letters at least once a week.
However, in May 2021, the letters dried up. This was very uncharacteristic of her and I begin to miss our regular correspondence. Finally, in June, I received a postcard from her which read, “Hey, this is a bit spur of the moment but I’ve booked a ticket to visit the UK. Would you be able to show me around your town when I reach there? Tell me a time and a place and I’ll meet you there.”
Normally I am against meeting strangers in person that I’ve only spoken to online but Camille felt different and I trusted her. I wrote back and recommended we meet in a bar I really like on the Friday when she’d be here.
Finally, the day rolled around and I nervously got ready to go meet her. Even though I knew she had a boyfriend, I wanted to make a good impression meeting her. It was a hot day so I wore an open shirt with a white vest underneath it and my best (i.e least dirty) jeans. I looked at myself in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw.
I had told her we’d meet at the bar at 9 and I got there about 5 minutes early. I grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a beer. I was beginning to get very nervous at the prospect of meeting this person who I felt I had such a connection with. My stomach did a somersault everytime a woman walked in the door.
At 9.15 a woman entered wearing a leather jacket over a low-cut white top. She was wearing a necklace that, in combination with the top, drew my eyes to her breasts. I was so distracted looking at them it took me a second to notice her face. She had a cute, almost nerdy look that contrasted with her almost pornstar calibre body. The platonic ideal of the slutty librarian or teacher. She had piercing green eyes, pale skin and a smattering of freckles. Her blonde hair that was in bangs and her fringe almost reached her eyebrows. Despite knowing she was in a relationship, I prayed that this was her because she was, without a doubt, the hottest woman I had seen in a long time.
I listened to her order as she approached the bar and heard her French accent.
“Hi, Camille?” I asked, nervously.
“Yes!”
Before I could say another word, she had pulled me in for a massive hug. I could feel myself pressed against her and my cock was already beginning to stir. She had an intoxicating smell; perfume that smelled faintly of vanilla mingled with a hint of sweat from the warm day outside.
“It is so nice to meet you, finally,” she continued, in her thick accent.
We grabbed a table and sat opposite each other. As beautiful as her eyes were, it was hard to focus on them as the way she sat pressed her breasts together. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to stand up soon because it could pose some difficulties.
“It’s so lovely to meet you too! What brings you here all of a sudden?” I asked.
“Oh, well it’s a long story. Basically, I felt I needed a change.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I don’t want to bore you but me and my boyfriend broke up recently. He fucked one of my best friends. I wanted to leave my town for a while. Over the last year, I’ve really appreciated our friendship and I thought you would be a good person to talk to.”
Over the following hour, Camille went into detail about her troubles and as we talked we slowly progressed from beer and wine to cocktails and spirits. I could feel myself getting tipsy and, as always happened, I was getting hornier by the minute. At one point she talked about her experiences as a teacher, and I, who had left high school relatively recently at this point, couldn’t help thinking that I wouldn’t get any work done if she had been my teacher.
Soon though, Camille returned to the topic of her recent breakup.
“At least I got my own back at him,” she said, laughing.
“Oh yeah, how did you do that?”
“Before we dated, he fancied this girl and I don’t think he ever got over not dating her. I looked at his phone and he had saved some of her Instagram photos in a secret folder. I got in touch with her a week after we split up. We met up for drinks and, by the end of the night, I had sent him a photo of me riding her face.”
I nearly spit my drink out at this revelation.
“Do you want to see it?” she asked, with a mischievous smile.
It felt like a trick question or she was just teasing me but I figured I didn’t have anything to lose.
“Sure,” I replied.
She removed her phone from her handbag and, as she had described, there was a video grinding on the face of a gorgeous black woman. She then started swiping through her photo gallery, showing more photos from that night – Camille fucking the other women with a strapon, Camille getting fingered, the two of them passionately making out.
“Want to help me take some more?”
Before I even had time to register what she had just said, she was standing up and saying, “Meet me in the third stall on the left in the men’s bathroom in 2 minutes.”
At that she stood up and, when no-one was looking, she snuck into the bathroom.
It was probably the longest two minutes of my life. I couldn’t believe how the course of my night had changed from some quiet drinks with friends to about to be fucking with an older French woman.
I finished my drink and looked down at my watch. The time had come so I stood up and nervously walked to the bathroom. I entered, went to the stall and knocked.
“Come in,” came the reply from the other side of the door.
I opened it to reveal Camille waiting for me with a huge smile on her face. Even in the intervening 2 minutes I had forgotten how hot she was. She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me into the bathroom stall, making out with me as she shut and locked the door behind me.
I had restrained myself enough during the night, I pulled down her top, revealing her huge breasts, and immediately started sucking on her nipples. She moaned and pulled my head closer into her chest.
“Can I make a small confession?” she whispered into my ear.
“Anything,” I replied, still sucking her nipples and kissing her tits.
“When we said we wouldn’t exchange social media, I lied a little. When you told me what university you go to, I looked on their social media and found you tagged in one of the society photos. You looked so hot, I’ve been thinking about fucking you since last year.”
She then dropped to her knees and started unbuckling my jeans as she said, “I have a hunch you have a big cock and I want to see if I’m right.”
My cock sprang out of my underwear and she stopped to admire it for a second before nearly engulfing the whole thing in her mouth. I had to put my hand over my own mouth to stop myself from letting out a moan.
“I haven’t sucked a cock this big since before my boyfriend,” she said before quickly returning to slobbering all over my cock.
Her technique was excellent – she alternated between hands free and stroking my cock with one hand while licking the tip. She even sucked my balls at several points.
I started hearing some commotion outside the bathroom stall but, at this point, I couldn’t care less. My mind was entirely focused on the amazing sight happening just beneath me.
“Bend down a little,” she instructed.
I did as she said and she spat on my cock and started giving me a titfuck. It felt incredible and I was just about to start cumming when I heard a knock on the stall door-
“I know what you’re up to in there. Come out before I throw you out.”
It must have been a bouncer. I started to panic but Camille was totally undeterred. She started stroking me with both hands. She could obviously tell I was about to cum as she opened her mouth wide like a pornstar and let me shoot hot ropes of cum all over her face.
I shuddered in pleasure as the knocking on the door outside got louder and louder.
Camille re-arranged her dress, took a selfie of herself covered in my cum and stood up but didn’t bother to wipe her face at all. She pushed me aside and opened the stall door, still a sticky mess, and announced to the bouncer, “Don’t worry, we’re leaving now.”
I have never seen a more shocked face as she pushed past him without a care in the world. I followed her to the exit sheepishly.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/tmso4k/meeting_my_french_penpal_mf_fiction
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