Ménage à Trois (Chapter 3) - Three friends on a day trip to France

Explicit - Ménage à Trois started off as a short account of three friends on a day trip to France. As the saying goes, the story 'grew like Topsy' as additional encounters were incorporated. It now consists of five chapters. These are best read in numbered order. The story is sprinkled with French expressions that are used in the English language - see if you can spot them. This story gets more explicit the further it goes.

Chapter 3 - The Restaurant

We walked a bit further, passing several restaurants and other eateries that seemed to be catering mainly for British visitors rather than locals. They were all busy even though it was before five o’clock. Eventually we came to a small restaurant squashed between two upmarket shops, a Lacost, and a Gucci no less. The restaurant was a squat, redbrick structure. The window frames were painted red although they weren’t garish; the windows had pink shutters to each side. The main entrance door in the centre of the building was pink with two intertwined red hearts stencilled on it. The restaurant had a red and pink striped canopy stretching out over the pavement. The canopy bore the name of the restaurant ‘Deux Cœurs’ (‘Two Hearts’ Lucy informed us). On the veranda area sheltered by the canopy there were three small cast iron tables with two matching chairs at each; these were all painted red too. At each table sat immaculately dressed people sipping coffee. They were reading French magazines or chatting on their mobile phones. It looked a picture of sophistication.

We looked in through the window. Inside it was tastefully decorated continuing the red and pink theme; it looked both attractive and inviting. Although it appeared quite busy we could see there were still plenty of vacant tables. There was a menu in a glass case situated next to the door; unlike other places we’d looked at, this one was only in French. If we were to eat here we’d certainly be reliant on Lucy. The restaurant offered a full à la carte menu or a choice of three table d'hôte set meals. The three set meals ranged from an entry level, cheaper deal (called ‘Les Amoureux’ – The Lovers);  through a mid-priced one (called ‘Séduction’ – needs no translation!) to a more expensive, luxury option (called ‘Je t’aime’ – I Love You). There was no mistaking the romantic theme of the place! The middle option looked ideal and was within our price range. We’d set our hearts (excuse the pun) on Séduction.

 

We went to go in. We were met at the door by an elderly man wearing a black suit that was at least two sizes too small for him. He stood proudly upright despite his advancing years, with his arms folded behind his back. He had slicked back grey hair and a rounded face. I could imagine him in his earlier years being the maître d' at some grand hotel. Rather than welcoming us as we approached him he looked at us with disdain, contempt even. It was as if the mere thought of three foreigners – in jeans no less(!) – should dare cross the threshold and enter ‘his’ establishment horrified him. If it hadn’t been for the enticing menu and the inviting interior I think we would have turned around and left.

”Bonsoir. Avez-vous une réservation?” he said sternly, talking down to us, and directing his severe words to me, ignoring the girls. 

I’m sure he was hoping that by being harsh with us from the outset he would put us off. Knowing the girls as well as I did, I knew they would see this as a challenge. I stepped back and let the girls take centre stage. This seemed to unsettle him slightly. The girls smiled at him demurely; he would have to be some tough cookie to resist that look! Lucy put on her best, poshest French accent and asked if there was a table for three available.

”Bonsoir. Nous nous demandions si vous pouviez avoir une table ou trois disponibles?” she asked.

The doorman looked at her somewhat surprised. The expression on his face softened ever-so-slightly. At least he was impressed by her French.

”Je suis désolé mesdames. Nous sommes très occupés. Peut-être souhaitez-vous faire une réservation pour plus tard?” he said, his voice moderating from stern to harsh.

 

”He says they are very busy and asks that we make a reservation and come back later.” Lucy explained to us.

 

“But we can see there’s lots of spare tables.” Keely said, sounding frustrated, “Try flirting with him, that usually works!” she suggested.

 

“Mais nous pouvons voir que vous avez des tables vides. Êtes-vous sûr de ne pas pouvoir nous laisser entrer? Nous vous en serions extrêmement reconnaissants.” Lucy said, her French accent now had a tint of sexiness as well.

As Lucy spoke, Keely, standing alongside her, started fiddling fretfully with the buttons of her stripy shirt. She ‘accidentally’ undid one button and opened her shirt up to reveal a bit more of her lacy blue bra. The old man couldn’t resist looking, his eyes widening and a smirk formed n his face.

“I told him that we can see they’ve got some vacant tables and we’d be extremely grateful if he let us in.” Lucy enlightened us.

“Ces tables sont réservées.” he said bluntly.

 

“He said those table are reserved.” Lucy said.

 

“I don’t believe him.” Keely said, “Have I got to undo another button to persuade him?”

Keely began fiddling with the next button down on her stripy shirt. I knew Keely wouldn’t be ashamed to open up her shirt completely and show him her lacy blue bra in its entirety if she had to. I could see the old man staring at her breasts hoping that the next button would pop undone. Sure enough, it sprang open. The old man gasped, his mouth opened, his eyes widened even more and his smirk developed into a full-blown leer as he took in the splendid view. I thought that must do the trick. But the old man was stubborn. He was certainly more obstinate than me; for the second time today I found myself staring at Keely's lacy bra and wonderful breasts. I'd definitely been won over!

 

“Je suis désolé mesdames. Vous ne pouvez pas entrer en jeans.” The old man persisted.

"Did he just ask me to undo my jeans as well?" Keely asked, "Dirty old man!"

I stared in wonder at Keely, impressed that she'd apparently understood what the old man had said. My admiration was misplaced however; Lucy clarified what he'd actually said.

 

“He's not asked you to do that; he’s now saying we can’t go in because we’ve got jeans on!” Lucy said, frustration in her voice.

 

“That’s rubbish!” Keely said angrily, “I can see customers in there wearing jeans. And anyway, nowhere does it say they operate a dress code. At least my jeans fit me, which is more that can be said for his cheap suit!”

Lucy and I sniggered at Keely’s outburst. Keely buttoned her shirt back up; it was obvious flirtation wasn’t going to work. Then I saw the look on Lucy’s face change and I sensed her mind ticking over. I just knew she’d thought of a plan. And I don’t think it was one that the old chap would come out of well. He’d stirred up a hornets’ nest and I could sense he was about to get stung. I felt sorry for him in a way.

“Keely, what you said does give me an idea though." Lucy smiled conspiratorially, turning to the man she said, irately and dramatically. "Vous dit que vous voudriez qu'on enlève nos jeans? Sale vieillard! J'exige de voir votre manager!”

 

I don’t know what Lucy had said to him (I picked out the word ’manager’ which is never a good sign!) but he seemed to visibly shrink. A couple of the customers sitting at the outside tables looked in our direction wondering what the fuss was all about.

“Non! Non! Vous avez mal compris.” The doorman said sounding frustrated and genuinely worried.

 

“Oh! Je ne comprends que trop bien. Tu veux qu'on enlève nos jeans pour que tu puisses voir nos culottes ! Pervers! Je veux voir votre manager.” Lucy said sounding angrier than I could ever recall. She really was making quite a scene; most unlike her. A few more people turned around to see what was occurring.

 

“Non! Je ne veux pas voir ta culotte!” The doorman said sounding even more exasperated and apprehensive.

I didn’t have a clue what the exchange was about. But I could sense from the intonation that Lucy was getting the upper hand. I could also sense that the old man was digging himself into a hole. If I could give him one piece of advice it would be to stop digging! As for Lucy, I’d never seen her so confident or so confrontational. She was never like this at home. It was as if speaking in another language had released the devil within her. I don’t know how the old man felt, but she was scaring me! And she wasn’t finished yet.

“Quoi? Tu veux qu'on enlève aussi nos culottes? Tu veux voir nos chattes? Attendez que votre responsable l'entende” Lucy said, sounding disgusted, “Peut-être que votre femme devrait le savoir aussi.“

I noticed the old man nervously play with his wedding ring. Whatever Lucy’s final comment had been it seemed to do the trick. The old man finally gave in. Like Napoleon at Waterloo he knew he’d been beaten. His head bowed and I think he was close to tears. I don’t know what Lucy had said to him but the old man’s confidence was shattered.

“S'il vous plaît. Suivez-moi. Je vous trouve une bonne table. Pas besoin de le dire à mon manager.”  he said sounding crushed. “Ou ma femme.”

 

The old man politely opened the door and ushered us inside. He escorted us to a table initially set out for four and summoned a waitress to attend to us. She quickly removed one of the place settings and invited us to sit down. Keely and Lucy sat down on a bench seat backing onto the wall, I sat on a padded wooden chair facing them. The old man bowed his head submissively and hurriedly left us. Not for the first time today Keely and I looked at Lucy for an explanation of what had just happened.

“How did you manage that, Luce?” Keely asked.

 

“What did you say to him? He looked terrified!” I added, “Really upset.”

 

Lucy leaned forward and asked us to close up so no one else could overhear us.

 

“When he said we couldn’t go in as we were wearing jeans, I pretended to misunderstand him and challenged him thinking he’d said, ‘Did you say you would like us to take off our jeans?’ They sound very similar. I called him a dirty old man! And I demanded to see his manager. He was adamant I’d misunderstood him. So I told him that I understood only too well, that he wanted us to take off our jeans so that he could see our panties. I then called him a pervert! I repeated that I wanted to see his manager.” Lucy whispered, “He insisted he didn’t want to see our panties. I’m afraid I twisted this slightly. So I challenged him again. So I said, ‘You want us to take our panties off as well so you can see our pussies? I said I’d report him to his manager. Finally I said I’d tell his wife that he wanted to see our pussies. That seemed to do the trick! He agreed to find us a good table. And there was no need to tell his manager.”

 

“Or his wife!” I laughed.

 

“That was a bit cruel!” Keely said, I think she was genuinely sorry for the old guy.

 

“It may have been cruel, but it was effective.” I said, “Remind me never to upset you!” I added.

 

“You must admit he was rather obnoxious and arrogant when we arrived?” Lucy said, by way of defending her actions.

 

“True, I guess he did need taking down a peg or two.” Keely agreed, “Perhaps he’s learnt his lesson. And he did seem to enjoy me undoing my shirt, so he wasn’t completely blameless.”

 

“I noticed he was leering at you.” I confirmed, “Mind you, I probably was too. It was a nice view!” I joked.

 

“Stop it!” Keely laughed, "You shouldn't have been looking!"

Now that we’d finally got in and were seated it gave us a chance to have a proper look around. Firstly it struck me how much bigger the place was on the inside compared to how it appeared on the outside. It was like the TARDIS. There were about fifty place settings on the ground floor, and a sign next to some stairs indicated there was more dining space on the first floor. As we’d seen through the window, the room was tastefully decorated to a romantic theme. The chairs and benches were upholstered in a plush, vivid red material which complemented the pale pink walls. We noticed that most of the tables were set out for two people, indicating that is was the ideal place to bring your wife or lover – as long as you didn’t bring them both together! There were a few tables around the outside, like the one were sat at, that catered for larger groups. Each table had a vase containing a red rose. The lighting was subtle and mimicked flickering candles. There were lots of romantic pictures on the walls and various artifacts and paraphernalia dotted about that continued the amorous theme. It was spotlessly clean.

 

Although the place was busy, it was not packed. There were four young waitresses in identical uniforms delivering food and taking away dirty plates, but they were not rushed off their feet. There was quite a hubbub of general chatter, but nothing too loud. When you stopped to listen it was apparent that most, if not all, of the customers were speaking French.

 

After we’d had time to settle in, one of the waitresses approached us carrying menus and a jug of water.

 

“Bienvenue à 'Two Hearts' Je m'appelle Collette, je serai votre serveuse pour ce soir. Je ferai tout mon possible pour rendre votre séjour aussi agréable que possible.”

 

Lucy started to translate but the waitress cut in.

 

“Ah l'anglais?” Pardon! Welcome to ‘Two Hearts’ My name is Collette I will be your waitress for this evening. I will do everything I can to make your stay as an enjoyable one as possible.” Her English was spoken with an incredibly sexy, delectable French accent. I’m sure she could read the telephone directory and make it sound sensual.

 

We all replied “Bonsoir.”

 

“I’m sorry would you mind very much if I could talk to you in English? I am studying the language at college and it would help me very much.” Collette said, “Unfortunately we do not get many English guests ice, sorry here. Perhaps you will let me know if I make any mistakes please?”

“That’s fine.” I said, perhaps a little too gushingly, “Your English is very good. “Très bien!” I replied, putting to use the extent of my French vocabulary again.

 

Lucy and Keely gave me a knowing smile. The welcome that the waitress had given us was a far cry from that we had received when we first arrived.

“I’m not surprised you don’t get many English guests.” Lucy said, “We had trouble getting passed your doorman. He’s a bit officious isn’t he?”

 

“I’m sorry.” Collette said, “I trust he didn’t abuse you?”

 

“He just wasn’t very pleasant.” Lucy said.

 

I suppose I should describe Collette at this point. She was young – I’d say about seventeen – and very pretty. She was about the same height as the girls, 5’4” – 5’5” but she had narrower shoulders, hips, and thighs, which gave her the impression of being taller. She was slim with youthful, budding breasts that were smaller than Keely’s but already bigger than Lucy’s. She had long shimmering dark brown – almost black hair – neatly plaited into a French Braid worn over one shoulder to give her a practical, classic, and timeless look. Her eyes were dark, ‘puppy-dog’ inviting. Appropriately, she had heart-shaped lips that just begged to be kissed. Her whole demeanour had a youthful innocence about it.

 

The waitress uniform she was wearing consisted of a crisp, white blouse with a neatly tied red bow tie, a tight black skirt that came to just above the knee, black tights (I assume) and highly polished, flat black shoes. She wore a short, white cotton ‘server apron’ tied around her waist. The apron featured the ‘Two Hearts’ logo embroidered in red in one corner. She looked immaculate.

 

Collette handed menus out, firstly to the girls and then to me.

“Est-ce qu’il y aura des boissons? Sorry, will there be drinks” she asked.

 

“A bottle of rosé, girls?” I asked, as I knew this was usually their preference when dining.

 

The girls nodded.

 

“A bottle of rosé and a small blond beer s’il vous plait.” I said.

 

Collette acknowledged our order and left us to peruse the menus. I watched her cute little bottom as she walked away. No sooner had she gone than the girls started teasing me.

 

“Très bien!” Lucy said, mimicking my rubbish French accent.

 

“Your English is very good.” Keely imitated.

 

“Baz has got the hots for the waitress.” Lucy joshed rhythmically, “To be fair, she is rather cute.” she admitted.

 

“She’s not bad. A bit young.” Keely concurred, “White panties I reckon.” she giggled.

 

“Virgin white.” Lucy laughed, “Although that innocent look may just be an act; perhaps she’s a diva underneath. I’m going with sexy black – that’s if she’s wearing any at all!”

 

“What’s your guess Baz?” Keely asked, “You’re the one that’s got the hots for her.” she mocked.

 

“Pretty pink to match the décor.” I said, blushing and trying hard not to respond to their taunting.

 

“It’ll be a challenge to find out especially as she’s got tights on.” Lucy continued.

 

“There’s a task for you, Baz!” Keely sniggered, “Shhhh…here she comes back.”

 

Collette returned and poured a taste of the rosé into the glass in front of me. I sipped it; it was really nice. I nodded my approval and Collette half-filled the two glasses in front of the girls. She then half-filled another glass with the beer for me.

“The drinks are à l'œil without paying?” she said, not too sure of herself, “On the building?”

 

“On the house? Free? Complimentary?” I questioned.

 

“Oui. Complimentary.” Collette confirmed.

 

“Pourquoi?” Lucy asked, “Sorry, why?”

 

“To apologise for the misunderstanding when you arrived.” Collette explained.

We were a bit hesitant to ask more because we didn’t know how much detail of our encounter she had been given. But Collette continued without prompting.

 

“You understand, we cater mostly for French couples wanting a romantic meal. Although we welcome other visitors, we have to be careful who we let in. As I said earlier, we don’t get many English. We don’t normally have anyone on the door but when there is trouble at the port we have to be more careful.” Collette explained, “I’m afraid Claude was a bit too strict. He can be over autoritaire. But I can’t believe what he said to you mesdames, not as customers. I’m so sorry. Pas d'excuses!”

Wow! There was an awful lot there to unpick. I actually felt sorry for Claude. It made it more personal now that we knew his name. It seems he was only doing his job. It also seems his conversation with Lucy had somehow been reported. I wondered if that included all the sordid – made-up – details? I hoped he didn’t lose his job because of it, or, heaven forbid, his marriage! I felt guilty and I knew we had to put things right before we left. But something else caught my attention, Collette had mentioned ‘trouble at the port’ what did she mean? I had to find out.

“What did you mean by trouble at port?” I enquired.

 

“When traffic is disrupted at the port we get a lot of indésirables trying to get in because they’ve got nowhere else to go. They’ve often been drinking and can be loud.” Collette explained.

 

“Is there trouble at the port then?” I persisted.

 

“Did you not know? There is a strike. The ferry terminal is blocus, sorry blockaded. We thought that’s why you were here.” she said.

 

“No we hadn’t heard. We came over on the Shuttle and we’ve been busy all day.” I replied, “We came here because we liked the look of you – sorry – the place.”

Collette blushed at my faux pas. “Pardon! I have other customers waiting.” Collette apologised, “I’ll come back shortly and take your order. Assuming you want to stay?”

 

Collette left us again and I turned to the girls, who not surprisingly, looked extremely worried. The jollity that they had had when they were teasing me just moments before had dissipated.

“Well, it’s a good job we came on the Shuttle and not on the ferry.” I said, trying to ease their concerns, “I suggest we forget what’s going on outside and enjoy our meal. The food does look rather good.”

I held up my glass of beer and said ‘Cheers’, the girls clinked their glasses of wine with me, “À votre santé!” Lucy said. Keely seemed to relax a bit but I could tell Lucy was still uptight.

“I feel so guilty about Claude.” Lucy said, “I know he was unpleasant but I did go a bit far.”

 

“You can explain to the manager that it was just a misunderstanding in the translation.” I said, “That should clear things up. And we’ll make sure we leave a tip.”

 

“You could always give him a treat.” Keely smiled, “Show him your pussy!”

 

“He’ll probably have a heart attack if I did that!” Lucy laughed, “I’d definitely feel guilty then!”

 

“What a way to go though!” I grinned, “I wouldn’t mind going that way myself!”

 

“In your dreams, Baz!” Lucy exclaimed and kicked me playfully under the table.

 

That seemed to lighten the mood. We studied the menu until Collette came back.

“Are you ready to order now?” she asked, taking a small notebook and pencil out of her apron pocket, “I assume you’re staying?”

 

“We’d like to choose from the Séduction table d'hôte set meals please.” I said, then I handed over to Lucy, “You better say what we’d like, your French is much better than mine.”

 

“Nous voudrions, sorry, we would like: Un Fricassée de Champignons ; Un Chicken Liver Parfait and Un Prawns Provençale. Merci.” Lucy said.

 

“Très bien! Can I get you any more drink?” Collette said.

 

“Can we have another bottle of rosé, Merci.” I said.

None of us were heavy drinkers, but we rarely had a day out together so I thought the girls deserved to let their hair down. I would have liked to have joined them but I knew I had a long drive ahead. Collette returned with the wine, and soon after that with the entrées.

“Bon appétit!” Collette said, and left us to enjoy our starters.

I topped the girl’s glasses up. Then we tucked into our food which looked delicious. I had the mushrooms which were yummy, Keely had the paté and Lucy the prawns. We all declared the food was exceptional.

 

As soon as our plates were empty Collette returned and took them away. Lucy ordered our mains which consisted of Boeuf Bourguignon for me, Sea Bass Fillet for Keely, and Steak Frites for Lucy. After a while Collette returned with three steaming hot plates of exquisitely presented food. Again, the food was mouthwatering. We ate in virtual silence, enjoying every mouthful. When we’d finished our mains, Collette returned.

“Tout va bien ? Sorry, is everything okay?” Collette asked.

“Oui, très bien, merci!” Lucy replied.

 

“Would it be possible to have a bit of a break before we order our desserts?” I enquired.

“Aucun problème. Sorry, no problem.” Collette said, “Good food should be savoured, not rushed.”

Collette efficiently cleared the plates and tidied our table, removing the empty wine bottles. I sat facing the girls, the flaming candle lights lighting up their striking features, they looked radiant. I noticed that Keely had undone another button on her shirt so that more of her ample cleavage and lacy blue bra was visible. Even Lucy had undone a button on her blouse, which was quite daring for her, but her bra remained hidden.

 

“Are you flirting with me like you did the doorman?” I joked, indicating towards Keely's exposed cleavage.

 

“No, I’m getting warm” she said, “I think it may be the drink.” she chuckled.

 

“In that case you best have some more.” I said, and topped their glasses up again.

 

“You’ll get us tipsy.” Lucy said, her voice a bit slurred.

“Perhaps that’s his plan.” Keely added with a wink, “I’m already a bit squiffy. I may have to undo another button.” she continued, winking at me.

 

“’I’m certainly enjoying the view.” I joshed, “It’s definitely been an entertaining – and different – day. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves?”

 

“It’s been great fun!” Lucy extolled, “Surprisingly I enjoyed the aquarium even though I didn’t expect to.”

 

“That was cool! I thought it would be boring, but I enjoyed it too.” Keely said, “You made a good choice there Baz.”

 

“What was your favourite part of the day, Baz?” Lucy asked.

I could see Keely flash me a warning glance not to mention the changing room cubicle incident when I’d inadvertently seen her in her undies and she (rightly) thought I had even seen her pussy.

“My favourite bit? Just spending time with my two gorgeous girls; I couldn’t wish for anything more.” I said, “I know that sounds corny, but it’s the honest truth.”

 

“That’s a good answer.” Lucy said raising her glass, “I’ll drink to that.”

 

“I thought you’d pick the shoe shop!” Keely giggled, “Wasn’t Caroline gorgeous?”

 

“One of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen. And I don’t mind declaring that in front of my girlfriend.” Lucy concurred, gushing with enthusiasm.

 

As the drink took effect, the conversation got more animated, and the girls got gigglier, braver, and less restricted in what they were saying.

 

“I can’t believe she showed us so much!” Keely continued, "You could clearly discern her cute little pussy under her tiny panties."

 

“In hindsight, we should have asked her to pull her panties down. I honestly think she would have done it!” Lucy said, “Can you imagine that? Her pussy fully exposed! I would never be brave enough to do that, would you Keely?”

 

“To be fair, her tiny G-string didn’t leave much to the imagination!” Keely smiled neatly avoiding the question, “It makes me wet just thinking about it!”

 

“Keely!” Lucy admonished her.

 

“Admit it, you were wet too Luce!” Keely challenged.

 

“Just a little.” Lucy admitted with a suppressed giggle.

 

“And Baz got quite a hard on didn’t you?” Keely chortled, “We could see your swelling!”

 

I blushed, “I didn’t know you’d seen! Do you think she noticed too?”

 

“If we both noticed I’m sure Caroline did. It was rather prominent!” Keely tittered.

 

“Even though I’m a lesbian, I found it fascinating, I don’t mind admitting.” Lucy chortled, "I didn't know how big it was going to get!"

 

“Maybe he’ll show it to you later.” Keely sniggered, "You'd do that for your best friend wouldn't you Baz?"

I must admit that the recollection of Caroline in her tiny white panties, and Lucy and Keely discussing their pussies was having quite an impact on my member right now. I could feel it swelling; fortunately it was obscured by the table. The erotic conversation was brought to a close by the return of Collette.

 

“Speaking of girls that make him go stiff, here comes our cute waitress.” Keely giggled.

 

“Are you ready for desserts yet?” Collette asked.

 

“I think Baz is.” Keely giggled "He would like a cream pie!"

 

“Pardon?” Collette replied, sounding confused.

 

Lucy quickly took over, “Oui, we’re ready. Un Crème Brûlée; Un Pot au Chocolat; Raspberry & Almond Frangipane. Merci.” she said.

 

“And can I have a coffee please?” I added, "Au lait."

Collette wasn’t long before she returned with the desserts which she placed in front of us. She came back with my coffee. As she put the cream jug down I moved to give her more room and she caught my elbow and spilt cream into my lap.

 

“Putain!” Collette exclaimed, “I’m so sorry!”

 

“I’m no expert, but I think she just swore.” Keely said.

“She did.” Lucy confirmed, “Not so innocent after all.”

 

Collette grabbed a napkin from the table and went to clean my jeans.

 

“Don’t rub it you’ll only make it bigger.” I said, obviously referring to the stain on my trousers.

 

At this Lucy and Keely nearly choked on their wine. The double entendre had not been lost on them.

 

“I bet you say that to all the girls!” Keely laughed.

The girls were now virtually in hysterics, despite my misfortune. To be fair, only a small amount of cream had landed in my lap, and a tad more on my polo shirt, the damage wasn’t bad at all; I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was. Although there was a stain, I guessed that it would probably be unnoticeable in a few minutes when it had dried out. But Collette was beside herself. She seemed mortified by what had happened; it was as if her professional pride had taken a severe knock.

“La vache! I’m so sorry.” Collette said, still sounding mortified, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

 

“Non! I’m fine.” I said, not wanting to cause a scene, “No problem. It’s no big deal.”

 

“J’insite! I insist!” Collette continued, “Come with me to la cuisine, I mean the kitchen, and I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Collette was so insistent that eventually I thought the best way to appease her was to do as she asked. I stood up and followed Collette. Behind me I heard the girls giggling, it was Keely who called out.

 

“Have fun! Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” she ribbed.

Collette led me through some grey, double swing doors into the kitchen. I was delighted to see how immaculate it was; the food preparation areas were all stainless steel and spotless. It was also very hectic – and noisy - with six members of staff busy cooking, plating up and clearing up. Collette spoke to one of the kitchen staff who responded by ushering us through another door into an annex.

 

Collette closed the door behind us. It was much quieter in the annex. It was obviously used as a laundry / utility room. There were large, almost industrial scale, washing machines and driers. Against the walls there were shelves containing stacks of neatly folded table clothes, aprons and other linen that had obviously been cleaned. And there were piles of dirty laundry waiting to be cleaned.

“I will be able to wash and dry your jeans and shirt in about ten minutes in this machine.” she said, indicating one of the large machines.

I looked at her somewhat bewildered, I didn’t mind taking my shirt off, but was she expecting me to take my jeans off?

“You want me to take my jeans off?” I asked coyly.

 

“Unless you want to get in the machine wearing them?” Collette laughed, “That  mettre les pieds dans le plat –would be doing something stupid!”

I looked around the small room, there really was nowhere to hide behind. If I was to take my jeans off I’d have to do it right here in front of her. I think Collette realised my concern.

“Êtes-vous timide? Are you shy?” she asked teasingly, “I won’t look, Honnête! Honest!”

She went back to the door that we’d entered the room through and turned the key in the lock.

“There, we won’t be disturbed now. It’s just you and me.” she said, as if that would make a difference.

There seemed little getting out of it. Collette was expecting me to strip within her sight. Nervously I lifted my polo shirt over my head and removed it. I handed it to Collette. As I said earlier, I’m no muscleman, and I don’t have a six-pack, but I do keep myself fairly trim by running and doing a bit of circuit training.

“Bien roulée.” Collette said appreciatively, “I mean good body.” she clarified.

 

“Thank you. Merci.” I replied, chuffed with the compliment.

 

“Now your jeans.” she said, “Don’t be timide.”

 

I removed my shoes and socks then I moved my hands to my belt and reluctantly unbuckled it, sliding it out of the belt loops. I then emptied my pockets. Fortunately, as we were doing a lot of travelling and it was set to be quite warm, I’d put on a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts rather than tight-fitting briefs. At least they wouldn’t be so revealing. Or rather, they shouldn’t have been so revealing if it hadn’t been for the raging erection I still had! I could feel that my erect penis was poking through the open fly in my boxers and pressing tightly against my jeans. If I took my jeans off like this Collette would see my cock. I was also worried that I may catch my member in the zip of my jeans – now that would be embarrassing!

“Can you give me a second? I said, turning my back to Collette and putting my hand down the inside of my jeans.

 

“Problem?” Collette asked.

 

“Just making some checks.” I replied, still trying to push my erection back into my pants.

 

“Fais voir!” Collette laughed, “Let me see!”

 

When I was satisfied that my member was safely tucked back in I faced Collette again, unfastened the top button of my jeans and slowly slid the fly zip down. I noted my hands were trembling. I gripped the waistband and pulled my jeans down over my thighs and knees. When they were around my ankles I reached down and pulled them off entirely. Luckily my erection had stayed inside my boxers throughout the whole process, although I could feel it trying to burst out. Despite what she had promised about not looking, Collette watched the whole manoeuvre. 

 

“Oh purée! Oh my goodness!” Collette exclaimed, “ You have la érection? How you say in English?”

 

“It’s the same, an erection.” I said, blushing, “And you promised you wouldn’t look!” I scolded her.

 

“I couldn’t help myself.” she laughed. “My bad!”

 

I handed Collette my jeans. She put them with my shirt and placed them into the large machine and tipped some washing powder in. After fiddling with some dials and pressing a few buttons, the machine whirred into life.

“We’ve got to wait about ten minutes now.” she said, “How shall we pass the time?”

As I stood there in just my boxers with the gorgeous Collette all I could think of was the bulge in my shorts trying to escape. There was a distinct possibility it would pop out at any moment. I wondered what the girls would make of my situation. Then I had an inspirational thought!

 

“You said earlier that you are studying English at college. Is that just the language or our traditions as well?” I asked, the  germ on an idea forming in my mind.

 

“Mostly the English language but also your expressions, idioms, and sayings and how they originate. So some traditions oui.” she said, “Why do you ask?”

 

“And you’d like our help?” I pressed.

 

“You’ve been very helpful already.” she acknowledged, “I’ve learnt a lot just listening to the three of you.”

 

“Have you heard of the expression ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’?” I asked.

 

“I think we say ‘Je te montre le mien si tu me montres le tien.’” Collette replied, “I think it’s the same, it comes from a children’s game.”

 

“You know it then.” I said, “Well?” I questioned.

 

“Well? Well what?” she sounded confused.

 

“Well, I’ve shown you mine.” I laughed.

 

Collette didn’t pick up on what I meant straight away. She looked baffled. Then she had a ‘light bulb’ moment. Her expression changed from one of bewilderment to one of realisation.

“You want me to show you mine!” she cried, “Tu veux que je me déshabille? You want me to strip?”

 

“At last!” I exclaimed, “The penny has dropped!”

 

“The penny has dropped?” Collette repeated, sounding confused again.

 

“It’s an English saying to indicate that someone has finally understood or realised something.” I explained.

 

“Tu es très effronté! Pardon, you are very cheeky!” she giggled, then to my utter astonishment she continued, “D'accord. Je vais le faire! Okay. I’ll do it!”

 

“You will?” I said in disbelief.

 

“Sûr! Sure!” she said excitedly, “I guess I owe you. In fact, we all do.”

 

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that last comment but before I could ask, Collette had kicked off her glossy black shoes, undone her white, server apron and removed it, and taken off her red-bow tie. Next she unbuttoned her smart white blouse, opening it up to reveal a plain white bra. Her youthful, burgeoning breasts suggested that she would need to go up a cup size fairly soon. Having discarded her blouse, her hands moved to the zip at the side of her tight black skirt and she pulled it down. I watched on in disbelief as she shimmied to encourage the skirt to fall to the floor. Once it was around her ankles she bent down and picked it up. Finally, she rolled down her black tights and removed them. And guess what? She was wearing pink panties. I’d guessed correctly! Wait till I tell the girls.

“You like?” she said, smiling provocatively, and posing sexily.

Not for the first time today I stood with my mouth open, completely agog. As she stood in front of me in just her undies she looked stunning. I drank in her beauty from head to foot, naturally pausing about half-way down!

 

“Beautiful!” I gasped, “Magnifique!”

 

“Merci.” she simmered.

 

My manhood stiffened up even more and then the inevitable happened; it burst out of my boxers. But it didn’t just pop out, oh no, it sprang out like a cork from bottle, a shaken bottle at that. It pointed straight at Collette in all its resplendent glory.

“Mon dieu!” she exclaimed, “Oh my God! I can see your pénis! La bitte!”

 

“You know what that means? I grinned, no longer embarrassed that my manhood was on display.

 

“Pardon? Qu'est-ce que cela signifie?” she replied innocently, “What does  it mean?”

 

“I think you said something like ‘Je te montre le mien….?” I said hesitantly not sure if I’d remembered the correct expression.

 

“Je te montre le mien si tu me montres le tien.” she corrected, “If I show you mine, will you show me yours?” You think that now I’ve seen your pénis you should see la chatte, my pussy?” she chuckled.

 

“Well?” I said, eagerly.

 

“Okay. C'est la vie. That's life!” she giggled, “Go on then. How do you say, ‘Bang yourself out?’”

“I think you mean ‘Knock yourself out’ but I could actually be wrong on that!” I laughed.

She made no move to lower her panties; it looked like she was expecting me to do it. I stepped forward. As I said, her briefs were pink, shocking pink I suppose you’d call them. They were cute bikini style made of cotton, with a tiny ribbon bow on the waist at the front. With trembling fingers I gripped the waistband of her panties at the front next to the pretty little bow. I pulled out and down slightly and looked down inside her panties. I could see her cute little tight slit. It looked so smooth. Unbelievably I'd now seen two French girls' pussies! Based on what I'd seen I could confidently dispel the myth that French girls were 'bushy' down there. Certainly the two I'd seen were delightfully smooth.

“Can you see it?” she quizzed, giggling slightly, “Do you like my foufoune, ma chat?”

 

I guessed what she was referring to. “It’s so cute!” I said, “May I touch it?”

 

She nodded. I slid my hand inside her panties and started rubbing her silky little vulva. It felt so smooth and squishy.

“Mmmm…. C'est gentil!. That’s nice!” she whimpered, “Please carry on s'il vous plait, if it pleases you?”

“Oh, it pleases me very much!” I simpered.

I carried on rubbing; tenderly to begin with and then slightly more forcefully. Her pussy seemed to relax and before long my fingers were inside her. She groaned with pleasure. The next thing I knew she had put her hand inside my boxers, wrapped her delicate fingers around by erect member and was gently stroking it. It was my time to groan.

“Don’t be shy, pull them right down.” she instructed, “Ca ne fait rein – it doesn’t matter.”

I gripped her panties and pulled them down. She stepped out of them, tossing them to one side. At the same time she had pulled my boxers down. I was completely naked; Collette was naked from the waist down. She looked at my erection.

 

"C'est magnifique, magnifique!“ she purred, “Je veux faire l'amour avec toi.”

 

“Sorry?“ I said.

 

“I want to have sex with you.” she said, blinking those ‘puppy-dog’, come get me eyes.

I couldn’t believe it! I wasn’t used to girls being so forward, ‘so much for her youthful innocence’ I thought. I put my hands behind her back and unclasped her white bra. She withdrew her arms from it and removed it. We were now both completely naked. Her breasts, although still developing, were round and full; they looked firm and perky. Her areolae were perfectly circular, smooth, and only slightly darker than the rest of her skin; they were quite small, about two centimetres in diameter. Her nipples were erect, standing up away from the areolae, but whether they were naturally like this or whether they were being stimulated, I’m not sure. Seeing her like this was certainly stimulating me! She looked heavenly.

"Do you like me naked?" she asked, standing in front of me with everything in full view.

"Magnificent!" I purred as I took in the splendour of her perfect body.

 

I couldn’t resist kissing those heart-shaped lips any longer. Moving close together, I cupped her pretty face in my hands and we kissed with unbridled passion; our tongues probed in my first French kiss with an actual French girl. For someone so young she seemed so confident.

She still had her fingers wrapped around my erect member. I felt her pull my foreskin back and then guide my cock towards her expectant pussy. When the head of my penis touched her flaps, it felt like an electric shock pass through me. She pushed against the resistance of her flaps then I instinctively knew I was inside her. As I pushed deeper she backed away slightly until her bare bottom pressed against the whirring washing machine behind her. The vibration of the machine caused her bum cheeks to wobble. I could sense the pulsation right the way up my shaft. It was a strange but exciting sensation.

“Mon dieu! C'est fantastique!” she murmured, “It’s as if I’m being taken from both sides at once!”

The sheer beauty and hunger of Collette, combined with the novel phenomenon produced by the whining machine, was rapidly bringing me to a climax. My breathing was getting shallower and faster. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I released with a tremendous gasp. Simultaneously I felt Collette’s deep exhale and guessed she’d peaked too. At exactly the same time the whirring machine gave an audible ‘DING!’ and switched off.

“We all peaked together.” Collette laughed, “Even the washing machine!”

We stayed in each other’s arms a little while longer, caressing and cuddling, neither one of us wanting to break the spell by separating.

.

“Your friends will be wondering where we’ve got to?” Collette said eventually.

I’d got so engrossed in our passionate embrace that I’d forgotten that Lucy and Keely were waiting. Reluctantly I unwound myself from the gorgeous Collette.

 

“Let me check on your jeans and shirt.” Collette said.

She undid the door to the machine and bent over to take my clothes out of it. Her bare bum cheeks were flushed red from where they’d been pressed against the machine; even so I couldn’t resist slapping them as she bent over. She turned to confront me, a strange expression on her face, I thought I was in trouble.

“Naughty!” she exclaimed, “I liked that way too much! Please, one more time!” she giggled.

 

She bent over again and I gave her another spank, slightly firmer this time. The sound of the whack echoed around the sparse room. I think she would have been happy for me to continue but I guess she felt guilty about keeping me from my companions. And even more guilty above leaving all the waitressing duties to her colleagues.

 

“We ought to get dressed.” she said, handing me my clothes, “Cela a été très amusant! Sorry, this has been great fun!”

Collette picked up her pink panties and I watched as she put them on, pulling them up to hide her delightful little pussy, which was now much redder than it had been when I first saw it. As we got dressed, Collette went overboard in thanking me again. Eventually she opened up to me why she was so grateful. It was a story I couldn’t wait to tell the girls.

Once we were both fully dressed, and Collette had tidied her French braid, Collette unlocked the door, opened it, and led me back through the kitchen. If anything it was busier than it had been earlier. None of the staff looked up, they were all too occupied with what they were doing. As we left the kitchen we met one of the other waitresses coming in. She shared a brief exchange with Collette and we continued on our way.

Collette escorted me back to the table where the girls were waiting. They looked at me suspiciously. Collette bowed her head slightly and left us. I sat down.

 

“You’ve been gone ages.” Lucy said, “What have you been up to?”

 

“Did you manage to get the cream out?” Keely giggled.

 

“Keely!” Lucy admonished her.

 

“Speaking of which, we shared your dessert – it was yummy!” Keely added.

 

“All the food was delicious. I’m glad we came here, despite what happened when we arrived.” Lucy concurred, “We ought to get the bill, pay and give our apologies to Claude. We’ll make sure and give a decent tip. I still feel guilty about what I did earlier.”

 

“Before you do that, I’ve got something to tell you.” I said, slightly hushed so that the girls leaned in closer.

“Collette said that Claude is a bit of a sleazebag. None of the female staff like him. Indeed, there has been a number of complaints about him but none have stuck because of lack of evidence. Due to his seniority and hotel experience, his word is respected.” I whispered.

 

“What sort of complaints?” Keely murmured. “Tell us more. I’m intrigued.”

“It’s mostly just the way he leers at them; they find him creepy – a bit of a letch. The waitresses have caught him trying to look up their skirts and several of them have said he has touched them inappropriately. Even Collette said he felt her bottom once, over her clothes, but he said it was accidental. Apparently he hangs around outside where the waitresses change hoping to get a glimpse of them changing. He was even found inside the changing room on one occasion. A young waitress, dressed in just her undies, discovered him going through her clothes. He said he was looking for a key. Unfortunately the key was found in her pocket. She left soon after, insisting the key had been planted there. In fact several young female staff have left.”

 

“Sounds a proper scumbag!” Keely shuddered, “And to think I showed him my tits.”

 

“And teased me about showing him my pussy!” Lucy winced, “Anything else?”

 

“Well up to today he’d never said or done anything inappropriate to customers as far as anyone knows. Certainly, no one’s ever complained.” I continued, “Then when rumours started circulating that he’d asked you to take your jeans off and show him your panties, and even your pussy, management started to question if the other reports may have been true.”

 

“But he didn’t ask.” Lucy shrugged, “I made it all up.”

 

“I know. Ironic isn’t it?” I said, “All those times that he did something wrong and he got away with it, and then, when he is completely innocent, he gets caught and found guilty.”

 

“It sounds as if he deserves it.” Keely said, “So are they going to do anything about it?”

 

“Collette said they’ve already asked him to leave. They said that if he goes quietly they won’t escalate it. He’s agreed to go. All the waitresses are delighted.” I explained.

“I guess we won’t be apologising and giving him a tip then.” Lucy said.

“And you won’t have to show him your pussy after all!” Keely laughed.

 

I was about to say, ‘You can show it to me instead.’ but I thought better of it.

 

“There was just one other thing.” I hinted.

 

“What’s that?” Keely enquired, captivated.

“I was right." I smiled.

"Right about what?" Keely asked.

"They’re pink!” I chuckled.

 

“What are?” Lucy asked, baffled.

 

“Collette’s panties.” I grinned.

 

“She told you?” Keely said, disbelieving.

 

“I saw them!” I beamed.

 

“I don’t believe you!” Lucy challenged.

 

“You can ask her if you like.” I smirked, not for one minute believing that she would.

 

“I might just do that!” Lucy said, “Speak of the devil, here she comes.”

Collette approached our table. She looked so young and adorable. It seemed beyond comprehension that only minutes before we’d been naked in each other’s arms making love.   

“Tout s’est bien passé ? Sorry, did everything go well?” she said.

“It was delicious, thank you.” Lucy replied, “Could we have the bill please?”

“Je vous l’apporte tout de suite.” Collette replied, and then remembering her English, she added, “I’ll bring it to you right away.”

Collette left us and moments later returned with the bill on a plate and three mints. I took the bill and the girls helped themselves to the mints. I was amazed how little the bill came to. They had only charged us for the three set meals; all the drinks were listed as complimentary. I gave Collette my credit card. Whilst she was concentrating on the card reader I saw Keely nudge Lucy.

 

“Are you going to ask her?” she whispered.

 

“In a minute.” Lucy whispered back, a cheeky grin on her face.

 

Just seeing that look I knew this was going to be embarrassing!

 

Collette handed my card back.

 

“Merci! Thank you!” she said, “J'espère que vous vous êtes bien amusés. Et j'espère que vous reviendrez nous voir bientôt.”

 

“She says she hopes we enjoyed ourselves. And will come back and see them soon.” Lucy said, back in translation mode.

“It has been great.” I said, “I hope we do come back soon.”

 

“The food was excellent.” Keely said, “Before we leave, I think Lucy has a question for you.”

 

Lucy was blushing and she shifted uneasily in her seat. I don’t think she appreciated being put on the spot. She coughed slightly then I could see from her expression that she was going to ask.

“J'espère que cela ne vous dérange pas que je vous pose la question; Quelle couleur de culotte portez-vous?” Lucy said, her face reddened.

 

“Rose.” Collette replied simply, “You call it pink I think?”

 

“Okay. I have another question.” Lucy persisted, “Did you tell him or did you show him?”

 

“I showed him of course!” Collette continued, unabashed, “Would you like to see?” she added, moving her hand to the zip at the side of her skirt.

 

“Non! Non! I believe you.” Lucy stuttered, “Merci!”

Feeling rather chuffed, I handed Collette the plate on which I’d put a very generous tip. She smiled when she saw it and for a second I thought she was going to kiss me.

 

“Thank you.” she said, “Thank you all so much for what you have done, we really appreciate it. It will be a much nicer place to work now.”

 

As she left us I noticed that all the other waitresses were looking in our direction and smiling. They looked relieved. I thought they may even clap. There was no one to open the door for us as we exited onto the street. We were pleased about that.

Continued......