Hello all, This is a story I've been writing that I thought I would post here for your enjoyment. It is inspired by the style of many other stories I have seen and enjoyed on this site and others - here is my way of giving back a bit. I will update as often as possible, but will likely not be more often than every 1 - 2 weeks. As always, feedback is appreciated. Enjoy! Tricolore Part I. When one is in Pont-Neuf on a Saturday night, there is no better place to be than Tricolore. It could well be the best venue in the best party city in the world, Paris. To go on a Saturday is key, as the entire club is transformed according to a theme, be it a humid jungle, a disco inferno, or a masquerade ball. This night, however, was the clubs signature party, the Tricolore dance party. Each person wears a button showing one of the three colors from the French flag. A white button shows the person wearing it is mostly interested in dancing. A person wearing a blue button is looking for a dance, and perhaps a phone number, or a stolen kiss. A red button signifies that that person is looking for nothing simpler than to get lucky. You dont need to be an expert in sociology to imagine how this type of party goes. On the one hand, wearing a red button is honest. On the other hand, its a little obvious. Wearing a white button could be seen as a signal to stay away. Conversely, it could be seen as a challenge. For twenty-four year old Natsumi, the choice was clear. She had a huge amount of excess energy, and she wanted to dance like a maniac all through the night. Its so loud, you can even hear it from outside!, said Yvette, Natsumis roommate. I know! Good thing I brought protection! Natsumi replied. Yvette looked confused for a second, and then realized Natsumi was talking about earplugs, which she was now removing from her tiny purse. The two young women were waiting in the closely packed line-up to get into the club. Yvette noticed that Natsumi had worn a brand new dress that night, a low cut, slinky black one-piece with gold accents that emphasized her slim waist and long, luscious legs. Yvette herself was young and fairly pretty with her long blonde hair, but she had always been jealous of her friends amazing figure. While Yvette had had many more boyfriends than Natsumi, she recognized that guys always noticed Natsumi first. Trouble was, Natsumi would always find something wrong with all of the guys that tried to date her. Too aggressive, bad taste in clothes, needy, and so on. Yvette had never seen her bring a guy home, but she was always trying to make Natsumi unleash her wild side. She knew it was there, because she would often hear muffled moans coming from Natsumis room late at night, as she screamed into a pillow during long, intense masturbation sessions. It was true. Nature had blessed Natsumi in many ways, but her incredibly tight and amazingly sensitive pussy was the one she loved the most, especially after she had discovered it was capable of orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Natsumi was very proud of it, and kept it shaved completely smooth, not for anyone in particular, but mostly for herself. Any porn photographer might have paid thousands of euros for five minutes of camera time in front of that beautiful pink slit. She often wondered if there were any men out there that could completely satisfy her. She had only slept with three men one had good stamina, one had good technique, and one was above average in size. Is it too much to ask for someone with all three? She wondered. Finally, the girls got inside. The club was indeed louder on the inside, and filled with dancing lights and stage fog. The layout was that of a large circular dance floor surrounded by several smaller, elevated platforms. Off at the sides were placed several L-shaped sofa chairs for lounging, with one bar at the front and one at the back. Young, well-dressed men and women from various social scenes all over Paris were here tonight, everyone from fashion designers to financiers. Natsumi and Yvette were directed to the button table, where an attendant asked them which button they wanted. They had agreed in advance that they would both choose a blue button. Middle ground. Perfectly respectable, if a little boring. Yvette did just that, but Natsumi asked for a white button, speaking French with a slight Japanese accent. Blanc, sil vous plaît. Oh, come on, Nacchan!, cried Yvette. Have a little fun! Natsumi smiled demurely and replied, Dont worry, I think Ill have my hands full no matter what color I wear, judging from the crowd here. Yvette looked past the crowd to where Natsumi was looking, and saw three young French guys at the bar checking Natsumi out. They looked like they were in college. Yvette took Natsumis arm and the two ladies walked past them, arm in arm, while the three guys looked them over. One tried to meet Natsumis eye, to give her a wink, but she didnt even look at him. The other two were hypnotized by her breasts, which were a perfect ten. Full and round they were, with the very pointiest of cute brown nipples. Her boobs had grown recently, forcing her to buy new bras. Tonight, she had decided to wear her scoop bra, which produced a very hot cleavage line of the type that, if seen during the day, might cause traffic accidents. As she walked past, she gave her tight little ass a bit of an extra wiggle, just to drive the boys crazy as they stared. Perhaps she would think of one of those boys when she pleasured herself later that night. Or, if she was especially horny, all three of them. Come on, time for a drink!, said Yvette insistently. We dont have to drive, so we can drink as much as we want! That was definitely one of the advantages of living in the city you could take the Metro anywhere. Even though neither of the girls typically drank hard liquor, she knew it was going to be a long night, so she ordered two Jäger bombs for her and her friend. For energy! They downed them quickly, and immediately they both regretted it. Wow, why did we get these Red Bull really tastes gross Yvette said. Why not let me get you something tastier then? A deeper voice said from behind them. It was the French guy from down the bar, the one who tried to wink at Natsumi. She turned around to face him, and noticed that his two friends were behind him. My name is Marc. My friends and I think you are very beautiful. Why dont you and your friend come and dance with us? Up close, Natsumi could see his features more clearly. He had dark, wavy hair, with fine features and greyish eyes. To her, he looked a bit like a tanned version of the lead singer from Green Day. Natsumi didnt say a word, but turned around from the bar, heading towards the dance floor. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if they followed. They all did. Yvette had started talking to the other two guys, who she soon learned were named Antoine and Gilles. All three of the men had red buttons, she noticed. A pulsing beat filled the dance floor as Natsumi began to swing her hips, finding her groove easily, her gorgeous tits bouncing in time with the music, stimulating her nipples against the smooth satin of her bra. Some kind of Daft Punk knockoff was playing; many of Natsumis favourite clubs played similar music. She couldnt get enough of it. She closed her eyes and swayed her body with the rhythm. She barely noticed as Marc moved in closer to her, his arms and legs occasionally brushing against hers. The club was already crowded and hot. The energy was building with each song, and Natsumi could feel herself getting excited. She was starting to perspire. As the night progressed, Marc became more and more direct with his advances. Natsumi had only one more drink, a Shady Lady that Yvette brought her, but she refused all others. The guys, on the other hand, were definitively hammered. One of them, Gilles, had already gone off to try and pick up other girls, and now Marc and Antoine both seemed to be trying to get Natsumis attention, watching her move her hips. She smiled - their dancing showed exactly how much they had drunk. She looked over at Yvette, who was now dancing with another guy, who didnt look French. He was fairly tall, with brown hair, slim but muscular. Nice job, Yvette she thought to herself. Then she saw his eyes. They had an intensity to them she had never seen before, dark and brown. These were eyes of a person that knows all your secrets, somehow, despite being a perfect stranger. Before she could get a better look at him, though, Marc had spun her around, holding onto both her hands. He was getting bolder and bolder, she thought. He put his hands on her hips, and moved in close. She felt his warm breath, and smelled his aftershave. So you think youre pretty smooth, dont you, loverboy? she asked him semi-flirtatiously. Marc replied, Well, I dont see you complaining about all this attention He wrapped his arms around Natsumi, and started grinding his hips into hers. She could tell he was getting aroused from the hard lump in his pants. She didnt push her body against his, but she didnt move away either. She realized she was getting horny, even though she had just come to dance. But she realized Marc was not the reason for her horniness. It was the man that Yvette was dancing with, the one with the dark eyes. Although Yvette was in his arms, he didnt seem to be looking at her. He was looking at Natsumi, and something about that fact was making her panties soaked. She found herself looking for the color of his button. White!! What on earth does that mean?