#3020: Normandy, France
Original photo: @mylbdo
In the heart of Normandy, Michael and Lucy savor more than just local wine and cheese. After a day exploring the French countryside, they end their trip with an icy experiment in the bedroom—turning heat, cold, and pleasure into their own unforgettable blend of indulgence.
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Transcript
Lucy had always dreamed of visiting France. It was so close to England, yet somehow, it had never made it onto their travel list—until that summer. She finally decided it was now or never, and it didn’t take much to convince Michael to join her.
Paris was too obvious. They didn’t want crowds and clichés—they wanted charm, quiet, and authenticity. That’s why they chose Normandy. A place where they could enjoy both towns and untouched nature, away from the rush of tourists.
They spent three blissful days renting a house from a local couple who made their own cheese and harvested honey. Lucy indulged so much she joked she’d never be able to look at honey again. Michael, meanwhile, became enamored with the region’s signature drink: calvados. He sampled several bottles and picked a few favorites to bring back—some for their friends, and a few for the couples they occasionally shared their adventures with.
They drove through the countryside, past endless green fields dotted with bright yellow blooms. Quaint villages charmed them at every turn, each home with its own character, its own story. In the larger towns, the air was thick with the scent of fresh pastries—an impossible temptation. Lucy and Michael often wandered the narrow streets for hours, soaking in the rhythm of local life.
On their final day before flying home, they decided to make it count. They visited a local fair, watched the boats rocking in the harbor, and spent the afternoon enjoying flaky pastries and a cozy dinner at a bistro tucked away from the main square. The sound of laughter and soft conversation filled the space, and at the table nearby, a local couple toasted their wedding anniversary. Lucy and Michael exchanged a warm glance—they loved how every place they visited made them feel like they belonged. And they couldn’t help but feel a little sadness, knowing it would all end the next morning.
Back at their bed-and-breakfast, the fireplace welcomed them like an old friend. The room was as picturesque as the town outside—warm, intimate, and perfect for their last night.
Lucy already knew she wouldn’t be sleeping. It had become their tradition: every trip ended with a night to remember. She waited on the bed, smiling softly when Michael returned—with an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne, and two flutes in hand.
The perfect touch.
They opened the bottle, poured the glasses, and clinked them together as Michael toasted to more adventures, new experiences, and always chasing something new—together. Lucy smiled, sipped, and knew this would be a night they'd talk about for years.
Their kisses began slowly, a soft burn of shared memories and building heat. They laughed in between, recalling little moments from the trip, the comfort and fire between them stronger than ever. After all these years—and countless times together—they still wanted each other with the same hunger.
Soon, they were undressing each other, shedding clothes and tension until only bare skin remained. Michael’s mouth found Lucy’s breasts, teasing her nipples, his cock already hard. Lucy had an idea—something playful, something new.
She sat up on the bed and asked him to close his eyes. He did so without hesitation, knowing Lucy’s surprises always led to something unforgettable.
She walked over to the bucket and plucked two ice cubes from inside, slipping them into her mouth. The shock of cold numbed her tongue and made her lips tingle, but she knew it would be worth it.
She returned to Michael and wrapped her hand around his cock, slowly stroking him until he was fully hard. Then she lowered her mouth to him—ice still nestled inside—and took him in.
The reaction was instant.
Michael gasped, muscles tense, unsure of what exactly he was feeling—only that it was intense. The contrast of cold cheeks, warm breath, and that familiar wet heat of her mouth was overwhelming. He opened his eyes to watch her, cheeks full, her eyes full of mischief. She looked wicked and perfect, wrapped around him like that.
She pulled away just long enough to pop another ice cube into her mouth, this time pushing it to the back of her throat, numbing herself further. When she took him deep again, he groaned—loud, uncontrolled.
The pleasure was sharper, more vivid than usual. His hands fisted her hair, his hips jerking slightly as she swallowed around him, each movement bringing him closer to the edge.
Finally, with a deep groan, Michael came. Lucy swallowed, then licked her lips with a satisfied grin as her mouth warmed again.
Michael, still panting, smiled down at her. “My turn.”
He didn’t blindfold her or ask her to close her eyes. He wanted her to see everything.
He took an ice cube and pressed it gently to her throat, then traced it downward. Goosebumps rose on her skin as he circled her nipples, already hard and begging for attention. He leaned in and took one into his mouth, the contrast between the cold and the warmth of his lips making Lucy gasp.
He alternated between ice and mouth, keeping her on edge, her sensitivity heightening with every flick, every suck. Her body trembled with need, the heat between her legs impossible to ignore.
But Michael wasn’t done teasing.
He moved lower, spreading her legs and brushing the cube along her slit. Lucy whimpered, her hips twitching as cold met heat. Michael didn’t linger too long—he knew better. He replaced the cold with his tongue, dragging it up her folds, licking her slowly, deliberately.
Then he repeated the pattern—ice, tongue, moan.
Lucy writhed beneath him, fingers tangled in the sheets, her breath stuttering with every switch. When she felt him finally focus on her clit, licking and sucking in rhythm, her orgasm crashed through her in one long, shuddering wave.
But they still weren’t done.
Before she could catch her breath, Lucy climbed on top of him and guided his cock into her pussy. He filled her slowly, and they both moaned at the delicious stretch, the raw closeness. She rode him with practiced ease, their eyes locked, hands roaming, mouths meeting.
Michael whispered that this had been the best trip yet.
Lucy laughed. “You say that every time.”
He smiled. “Because it’s always true. As long as you’re with me.”
Her hips moved faster, the bed creaking beneath them, the room filled with the sweet music of gasps and pleasure. She came again with a cry, falling forward onto his chest, and he followed soon after, pulsing deep inside her.
They fell asleep wrapped in each other, whispering about future destinations—already dreaming of where their love would take them next.