Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Simone's Travels

   Fiction MF, Fm, Slow, Historical, Group, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism,
Frottage, Bdsm, M+F, Mild WS, Mf, FF, military operations, crime and
espionage.  This story is a continuation and part prequel of a previous
fictional offering, central character.  That being Simone Moreau of
"Doctors in the Shadows" (DitS) fame.  It covers a portion of her teen
years in high school in Paris and various points in a career then
culminating with her journey as a French diplomatic worker after leaving
the humanitarian medical group in the Congo.  Follow closely as we retrace
her travels through flashbacks and recollections of her sensual journies.

   Montmartre, Paris Sisters of the Arc High School The luscious Simone
Moreau was now a fully vetted member of Sister Suzanne and Father Leclerc
inner circle of pleasure seekers.  Now fast approaching her 17th birthday,
Simone had learned many lessons from the adult officials.  She now had
intellectual stature which rivaled that of an adult member of her school's
staff.  Gone were the clumsy juvenile explorations.  Suzanne, Leclerc and
others had now advanced Simone's education on to the full array of
debauched conduct...  which she now freely practiced with her classmates as
well as adult members of the secretive group.  Simone had cultivated Aimee
Dupont as a friend who she found sufficiently willing to play frisky games
with her and Sister Suzanne.  Games that frequently involved hardcore
sexual encounters within the school environment.  Sister Suzanne had
managed to share Simone's sensual talents with first Leclerc who had taken
the girl's virginity in (DitS 10-11), then others including the dominant
brunette Sister Inez, a 29-year-old bisexual from Marseilles.  Father
Leclerc for his part had begun to share Simon with Abbot Alain Benoit who
taught Geography.  The 31-year-old from Nice was an exceptional degenerate
with an interest in corrupting students and staff.  The fellow student had
become Simone's friend largely by accident.  The shy sheltered girl
Simone's age and equally curvaceous was careless one day with her journal
one harried afternoon.  Aimee's green ledger style journal held so many
embarrassing and exciting details of her life.  As luck would allow, Simone
picked up the journal and secured it in her briefcase where it had fallen
from Aimee's locker adjacent to Simone's.  She intended to return it at
first opportunity in their homeroom the following day.

   That evening at home in the privacy of her bedroom while doing
study...Simone looked longingly at the journal.  She wrestled with the idea
of viewing the dark-haired girl's private words.  Finally, just before
climbing into bed, Simone sat at her vanity and slowly opened the journal.
She leafed through it finding passages dating back nearly a year.  However,
it was the passages from three months ago forward that held the shocking
expose.  Aimee Dupont poured out the depths of her feelings about Simone,
other class mates and even her teachers.  It was very revealing: Aimee was
mired in a dilemma of being seduced by her Uncle losing her virginity to
the man shortly after her 16th birthday similar to Simone.  Now the cute
brunette was drifting into bisexuality to avoid the exploitation of her
Uncle and other crony male friends of his.  In her journal she pined over
physical attractions to Simone, fellow students and teachers.  Apparently
the last year of erotic exposure had awakened deep sexual longings in the
girl.  Simone read one passage, where Aimee recounted being excited about
being in Sister Suzanne's class and once was so aroused just seeing the
Sister speaking to Simone, she rushed to the girl's toilet to masturbate as
a sensual fantasy traveled through her mind.  Simone leafed further through
the book and found a passage which had ruined Aimee's affection for her
Uncle.  He had taken the girl one afternoon to a park off the autoroute or
freeway into the suburbs of Paris where they had an hour long tryst of
corruption with 3 other leering voyeurs.  As it were her perverted uncle
often brought unsuspecting female acquaintances to the park where he coaxed
the female to perform sexually for his enjoyment and that of his friends.
Aimee wrote other accounts of how she often hurried to the bathroom before
entering the lunch room to finger her pussy, bringing her finger to her
nose to swoon over her scent and tingling with arousal for the way she
smelled.  She described how she would lick her fingers and pretend it was
the fragrant feminine juices of Sister Suzanne and yes even Simone!  One
particular randy passage involved Aimee in the confessional booth pouring
out her sins to not a priest but to Sister Suzanne and hearing the Sister's
breathing increase and imagining her fingering herself as she listened to
Aimee's confession.  She recorded accounts of noticing other female
classmates and how she had no trouble masturbating exquisitely while
thinking of tasting and smelling her female classmates.  She imagined
kneeling between their legs, licking, kissing their humid wet pussies and
making them groan in ecstasy.  Another strange subtext of Aimee's journal
centered on her being submissive to her teachers and female classmates. 
Finally, she simply admitted she didn't know how to approach any of her
attractions.



   Rabat Morocco, French Forces North Africa HQ Simone had been favored
with high marks in her Internal Medicine Residency.  As a result, she
received a coveted Foreign Ministry posting as an internship.  In the
spring of 1968 she was detailed for several months to duty at military
clinics of the French Legionnaires outposts performing a small training
mission to the forces of the Moroccan monarchy in the political capital of
Rabat.  She was not quite 31 years old and her whole career lie ahead of
her and seemed promising in the Ministry despite France's drawdown as a
colonial power.  Nominally her duties made her a physician assistant to
Legionnaire Command.  She worked for a handsome but portly military doctor,
Philip Navarre who was the Chief Medical Officer for French Forces North
Africa (FFNA).  It was rumored he was a surviving relative of the French
Artillery Commander from Dien Bin Phu, France's military defeat in Indo
China which eventually led to American involvement in Vietnam.  Simone
would spend her days running a general sick call for the Legion and some
exams for Moroccan who work for FFNA.  Today she sat primly outside
Navarre's office waiting to meet her new mentor after arriving the day
prior.  Wearing a belted sand colored frock dress, she sat with her legs
jauntily crossed and received icy stares from Navarre's female admin
assistant, Salma Doori a 25-year-old Moroccan civil servant.  The harried
senior doctor had paid little attention to his correspondence announcing
the arrival of his new medical assistant.  Navarre was totally surprised
and rakishly excited when the attractive morsel which was Simone entered
his office.  Her lush figure shook sensually inside her dress.  Despite the
heat she wore a slip which concealed her nylon under garments, a fine mist
of perspiration dampening her skin and underwear.  "My regards Madame,
welcome to Med-Com FFNA.  Hope your trip was pleasant/ Mon concerne madame,
Bienvenue au Medical Command, Force de Français d'Afrique du Nord." He
added his voice slightly husky.  After a few moments chatter he stepped
from behind his desk and called her to the side of the office to view a
large map of the country.  He stood perhaps eight inches behind her left
shoulder and pointed to the locations of Legion outpost they were
responsible for in addition to Rabat and Casablanca.  Her light tan rayon
dress accentuated her still fairly slim waist and the jut of ripe full
womanly hips and long but beautifully curvaceous thighs.  The neckline was
cut modestly, but the bodice of the dress hugged narrowly spaced, lushly
rounded tits, though a trifle pendulous but still exciting.  Navarre
wondered if Moreau was like some French women who loved being fucked while
their tits were being rather roughly manipulated and their nipples licked
and sucked.  It would be interesting to see what turned Simone Moreau on.
She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into her already sweating
palms, feeling her heart pound with an erratic, more rapid beat as she felt
his presence behind her.  She knew older French bureaucrats often preyed on
their subordinates.  Oh she fretted why did she dress so tempting rather
than just wear a military utility uniform on the day of her first meeting
with her new boss.  Navarre was so close to Simone his trousers front
almost touched her outthrust ass cheeks as he explained that they needed to
go conduct sick call for 20 Legionnaires at Ben Slimane outpost on tomorrow
which was Friday.  "At Slimane you and I will do it together this one time,
you will be responsible in the future for the outposts." He closed by
saying they would go on Friday and return on Sunday evening.  His face
practically on the nape of the woman's neck as he sniffed her sweat
moistened skin, thrilling to an odor mixture of her perfume, body talc and
feminine perspiration.  His 7-inch cock lengthened in his khaki trousers
lustily.  He gently put his right hand on the lush swell of her right hip
as he pointed to various outposts on the map with his left index finger as
if she were a slow student who couldn't see the clearly marked spots.  "All
right," Simone said, though not liking the idea of being at the outposts
without the CMO present, but feeling that she couldn't be choosy and this
was a chance for her to get valuable experience.  Simone knew she was lucky
with this internship that paid a decent government stipend and should
dedicate herself to succeeding.  "Excellent.  I'll see you at the helipad
in the morning at 0700 hours sharp.  Be packed and in military utility
clothes." Navarre husked out loud as he gently pinched her bottom before
returning to his desk and telling her she had the rest of the day to
herself.

   Back in her room, Simone pulled a sheath of mail from her purse.  Her
eyes focused on the letter on top from the Bank of Northern France.  It was
the third late notice about her medical school loans.  She had been without
any meaningful salary now for over 120 days.  Her first payment from FFNA
was at least two weeks away and that depended on her pay not being caught
up in a mail delay.  She barely had a 110 Francs to her name.  Oddly she
felt tense after removing her dress and excitable due to her anxiety at
being alone with the handsome Navarre and her worry over her finances.  She
moved to her dinette table and she wriggled restlessly.  Only her thin
panties separated her warm, soft bottom from the vinyl chair seat.  Her
short skirt was nearly lap-high, exposing her bare thighs above the tops of
her stockings.  Her short half-slip was nearly lap-high, exposing her bare
thighs above the tops of her stockings.  She writhed as she sat sipping a
soda and wondering if Navarre was married, she'd seen no ring on his
finger. She wondered what he'd thought as he stood so close to her while
showing off the map.  He probably sneaks off some place and masturbates! 
She thought he seemed the haughty type who would stay clear of Arab women
but chase Europeans while overseas.  Her mind painted a lewd picture of him
standing with his cock sticking out the fly of his pants, stroking the long
bony thing while he thought about her.  Finishing her soda, she strolled to
her sofa of her little quarters stripped from her slip and rolled onto the
sofa, in just her stockings, garter belt and panties.  She rubbed her very
warm pussy through the crotch strip of her silken briefs, then pulled her
panties askew and dipped a finger between the hairy lips of her sizzling
snatch.  Stroking the digit in and out of her slippery crevice, she
writhed, her mouth open and panting.  She'd ran in very liberal social
circles while in medical school and residency.  She'd more than
experimented with marijuana and sex over the recent past.  Now she was in
Morocco home to good hashish.  She wondered if she could score some as she
lay playing with her juicy pussy.  Simone drilled two fingers into her
juicy snatch as she now worked toward climax.  Biting her lush painted
bottom lip the woman climaxed and turned onto her side for a brief nap. 
She felt relaxed after, but the matter of the unpaid loans remained.

   The party of French passengers were on time for departing Rabat
aerodrome.  Simone was almost late.  As when she pulled her sand colored
utility uniform from the locker in her quarters, it was a half size too
small.  A ripe hippy female specimen at age 31, the pants bulged near
indecency with a prominent pussy camel-toe.  Likewise, the arching lines of
her high waisted panties stood out in bold relief on her sumptuous rear. 
She was initially afraid to wear the uniform but did not want to disappoint
Navarre.  A male nurse Henri Renault was on the mission also.  He kept his
beady dark eyes roving all over Simone as she climbed aboard the
helicopter, even keeping his hands on her hips longer than needed when
helping her board the chopper.  In the netted troop seats Simone was
squished between both her coworkers, lush thighs pressed against the men's
maleness.  Two Legionnaire noncoms sat across from them.  They largely
ignored her.  But both wore dark aviator sunglasses, it was hard to tell if
they were observing her.

   Arriving at Ben Slimane, they spent the morning doing inventory of the
supplies and medical narcotics before setting up the exam rooms for the
sick call to start at 1300 hours.  Renault could barely concentrate on his
duties of checking in the patients he was so distracted by Simone's
presence.  Her shapely body was a delectable sight for all males in the
clinic.  Navarre thinking of being alone with her while Renault fantasized
over peeking at her clothed, undressed or naked.  Renault knew he faced
limited chances with the Physician Moreau.  The chronic masturbator hoped
to catch her exposed or carelessly dressed at Navarre's office for images
to fuel his fantasies.  The clinic was efficiently run through out Friday
afternoon.  Except for three young Legion Lieutenants looking wolfishly at
Simone as if she were a pastry at Officer's Mess it was uneventful, ending
as the evening Mosque prayer call.  That night Simone was the guest at
Navarre's table at the Mess with the Ben Slimane commander, a Capt Fredric
Petain, a superb young officer from a prominent French family.  Simone was
mouthwatering in even just a simple dark blue linen skirt and white blouse
as they dined on Couscous, Lamb and Chicken.  Navarre made a toast to the
Capt's mission and thanked Simone for gracing their table with her charm
and beauty.  They filled their pre.  dinner conversation with quiet
discussion of the issues facing FFNA.  The sole mission being training and
equipping the monarchy to resist a latent insurgency from Algeria and
remnants of separatist one in Morocco.  As Navarre nursed his cognac his
mind ventured to other north African enterprises of his.  Navarre was
padding his government salary through a lucrative side endeavor that
allowed him to coordinate the smuggling of hashish from Tangiers back to
France through the port at Marseilles.  All in all, a peaceful evening. 
But Renault was busy bribing a Moroccan clerk for access to Simone's room
assignment.  As it turned out her Visiting Officer Quarters bedroom faced
the motorpool area which was closed this time of evening.  Renault secreted
himself about 20 feet from the fuel pump island in the shadows hoping to
spy on Simone when she returned from supper.  It was better than he could
hope for.  As Simone returned to her quarters at 930pm and turned on the
light switch, illuminating her small bed room and toilet.  Buzzing slightly
from the several drinks of cognac and rich food, Simone stood at the sink
stripping her clothes and removing her make up.  When the woman turned into
face the mirror at her sink she was in full profile to him.  It was
impossible for the corrupt former combat medic and now nurse to resist.  He
immediately crouch walked up to her quarter's window.  This was like manna
from the gods to Renault.  He wanted to release his cock and masturbate,
but decided to just keep watching.  He could savor it later and experience
the auto-erotic release back in his room.  His eyes were immediately
rewarded with the glorious site of her in beige step-in panties and
matching bra.  By the saints, thought Renault as he squinted to peer
through a one-inch gap caused by a cheap ill-fitting curtain, how he would
love to get her alone at the aid room out at the firing range!  The panties
fit her snugly even at profile he could see profuse clumps of her pubic
bush escape from the leg holes of the intimate garment.  Apparently event
the high waist panties couldn't conceal her lush pubes.  Maybe not on this
trip but on a future sick call mission?

   On Saturday just before noon prayers Simone was in the medical office
working on records.  Navarre was away from the outpost attending to
something in Casablanca regarding a public health advisory for FFNA.  The
quiet in the office allowed her to focus on her duties.  Renault she
noticed was oddly nowhere to be seen though it was a work day for them.

   The unscrupulous nurse had gotten a vehicle and drove to the rifle range
a mile away from the outpost.  He intended to lure Simone there on false
pretenses.  At roughly 1215 Simone received a call at the office from
Renault.  In an anxious voice he pleadingly asked Simone to come to rifle
range to attend to a Legionnaire Lt who was in deep abdominal pain and
begged her to get the staff car assigned to Navarre and drive out to the
range immediately!  She certainly did not want the man's condition to
worsen so it was imperative to respond.  Grabbing a medical bag and
flinging it over her shoulder, she rapidly walked the one block to the
motor pool and demanded an Arab driver rush her to the range.  The
dispatcher heatedly explains his driver could not accompany her as a driver
due to the Muslim prohibition at Zuhr, (Noon Prayer) of an unmarried woman
being alone with an unmarried man in the middle of the day.  Even a French
Infidel woman.  The dispatcher did efficiently and politely make a small
quarter-ton truck available to Simone.  She departed nearly 15 minutes
after getting Renault's call.  As she rounded the curve to the Range HQ
building, strangely she saw only one other vehicle and heard no rifle fire
and saw no troops milling about either French or Moroccan.  She did see
Renault waving wildly outside a small building with a Red Cross and
Crescent on it rooftop.  To be continued: Fiction