I wasn’t sure what to say when I saw him, or if I should even say anything. It was so obvious though that he was a tourist in the city, lost in the sea of non-English speaking Parisians. It was late afternoon, and I was sitting outside a quiet little bistro, sipping wine, scribbling in my journal and enjoying the cool summer breeze. A casual glance up from my notebook as I took a sip from my glass, and there he was…
He was standing several metres away, examining street signs and comparing them against the map he held in his hands. He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping. He was casually dressed in typical ‘urban tourist gear’ – a simple t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, that served only to advertise just how thoroughly squeezable and tight his ass was!
I took a slow deep breath and unconsciously bit my bottom lip as my eyes settled on that perfectly formed ass, which for some strange reason I felt a sudden urge to bite. As my eyes feasted, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to sink my fingers into that fantastic ass of his as that ripped body lay on top of me and what those powerful arms would feel like wrapped around my naked body while he moved deeper and deeper inside me. I bit the corner of my lip harder and felt a tingling sensation in my nipples as I continued to stare at him.
I couldn’t help but feel more than a little turned on staring at this gorgeous man. I had just been writing a rather racy entry into my journal when I looked up and noticed him. I’d been recalling my first week living in Paris. I had sat and drank wine with Jean-Luc at this very bistro. It was here, sitting at this very table, that I had discovered why they call it a ‘French’ kiss. He had looked into my eyes, and whispered the most wonderful things to me in French. He had caressed my cheek gently and lovingly with his fingertips, before brushing my lips gently with his. Softly, slowly at first, gently teasing my tongue with his; encouraging my tongue to seek his which it did. I melted into his kiss. That man made kissing into an art form! He sucked and teased my lips with his tongue. He slowly moved his tongue in and out of my mouth; caressing, searching and pumping – giving me a demonstration of what his cock wanted to do to my pussy. My pussy leaked and throbbed from those kisses. He devoured my lips and tongue with searing and scorching kiss after passionate kiss. I was sent to another world, totally aroused and completely at his mercy. I almost felt like I could’ve cum just from his kisses alone!
Later that night, when we made love, I came harder than I had ever cum before. His kisses and his sexy French accent had kept me close to the edge for so long. It was more than just his words and his kisses though, it was him and… and it was me, another me. It’s difficult to describe, but he just…I just…I felt different with him. I felt freer somehow. I felt deliciously naughty too, and so very very sexy. I think it was partly the liberation of being in a foreign romantic country, speaking in a foreign tongue too and then being so patiently drawn out of my shell and seduced so expertly. He ignited a fire and a passion within me that I never knew I was capable of feeling. But that was nearly six months ago, and Jean-Luc had moved to Lyon since then to be married to another woman. I missed him, but I missed his kisses more. Sitting here, where we sat and kissed, sipping the same wine we drank…I could almost feel those kisses again. Almost!
I was snapped out of my daydream just as the attractive stranger’s ass was removed from my view. I blushed as I realised that I had been blatantly staring at the attractive stranger’s hypnotically-fantastic ass, which was especially embarrassing because the moment of realisation came just as he turned around and caught me! I quickly averted my gaze back down to my notebook, and took a long sip from my glass to try to hide my schoolgirl blush. I could feel my neck and cheeks redden as I watched him from the corner of my eye move towards me. The jig was up – I was most definitely caught!
“Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle.” he said with a bad French accent, “eh…Parlez-vous Anglais?” I looked up at him, seeing his face clearly for the first time.
He was devastatingly handsome. I especially liked his square masculine jaw and crooked boyish smile. There was an air of mischief and confidence about that crooked grin of his, and that sexy raised eyebrow that was barely visible above his designer sunglasses. His dark brown hair looked just long enough to run my fingers through – and pull! He tilted his head down and looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses, our eyes caught for a split second and I thought I caught a slight glint of amusement in his eyes. Yep, he definitely knew that I was staring at his ass a moment ago! I stared at him, just taking him in. I realised that I still hadn’t answered him.
“Em, sure … yes, I… I speak English,” I stammered as I sat up straighter and bakırköy escort tried to bring myself fully back to reality – my throat suddenly going dry as I tried to speak to him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and his smile grew wider.
“Do you need help with something?” I asked, pointing to the crumpled map in his hand and smiling back up at him. He had such a sexy smile.
“Yes, yes Ma’am I do!” he blurted out and laughed slightly at his own predicament. “This is my first day in France, I am totally lost, and I don’t speak a word of French! Er, may I?” I nodded as he gestured to the empty chair opposite me.
He dropped his bag down to the ground, and half- plonked himself down in the seat. He looked like he’d been walking around for hours and was finally relieved to be sitting down. A slight tinge of guilt tugged at my conscience; here was this poor guy, exhausted and totally lost in a foreign city and it was all I could do to keep my brain from imagining what his naked body would feel like pressed up against mine while I gripped his thick hard cock tightly with my throbbing pussy. I took a deep breath, closed my journal quickly and tried to look but not stare at this gorgeous guy sitting across this small but painfully familiar table from me.
He offered his hand to me, “I’m Tom, by the way.” I smiled and took his hand. I was surprised by how small my hand felt in his, and how firm his grip was.
“Jane,” was all I could say as I felt my heart racing a little from his touch – and from what my imagination told me this strong masculine hand would feel like firmly cupping and squeezing one of my breasts while his long fingers pinched my hardened nipples. I smiled again and tried to hide another blush, as imagination ran away with itself once again.
“Well, Jane, it is a pleasure to meet you” he said, releasing my hand and taking his sunglasses off, his piercing brown eyes meeting my gaze.
“I’ve been wandering around this city for hours hoping to find someone who speaks English, or at the very least a street name or a landmark or something, anything at all really that I could find on my map!” He placed his map and his sunglasses on the table and leaned in towards me, casually looking me over. I almost felt like I could feel his eyes caressing my skin. I was very aware of how hard my nipples had become, and of just how thin my cotton t-shirt was.
I smiled back, “Well I’d be glad to help you find your way, if I can. Where are you trying to get to?”
“I’m trying to get back to my hotel, La Grande…something, it’s on rue de la fontaine.”
He opened his map and showed me a pen mark on the page, indicating the location of his hotel. I studied his map for a moment, as the waiter came over to our table. Tom clumsily ordered a drink and moved his chair around closer to mine so that we could both look on the map. I could smell his subtle and manly aftershave as he leaned in closer to me. I felt myself become even more aroused at the warmth and the closeness of his body, but I tried to retain my focus on the map.
“Okay, there’s your hotel and we’re all the way over here,” I said as I pointed to our location on the map and turned to look at his face.
As I turned, I noticed him staring at my cleavage as I leaned over the map. He suddenly shifted his gaze from my cleavage to the map, no doubt hoping that I hadn’t noticed him looking at my breasts, or at the very least hoping that I didn’t mind it too much. I blushed again and smiled, his face became very serious as he studiously examined the map. Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn’t feel too sorry for staring at his ass earlier and thinking such lustful thoughts about him after all – perhaps he was having some similar ideas about me!
“Hmmm, that’s nowhere near my hotel really is it?” Tom asked, turning to catch my eye again, his face so close to mine now.
“Nope, not really. Sorry.” I replied sympathetically. “But the good news is,” I added quickly, “we’re very close to the main metro line here, and it’s only a twenty minute ride from here via the metro.”
He sat up straight, shook his head and put his hands up in the air as if to halt this line of discussion, “Oh no! The metro is what got me into this mess!” he explained with added comedic melodrama “I got totally turned around on that thing, and that’s why I’m so lost now! In the end I gave up on it and tried to find my way on foot!” I laughed at his confession, and his assertions that he would not chance the metro again.
“Oh, well” he continued “I’m so glad you’re finding this so amusing! You’re supposed to be helping me, not laughing at me!” The corners of his mouth quivered slightly, revealing the grin that he was trying to stifle as he feigned offense.
“Hey, I can do both!” I said, matching his assertive demeanour, “women are great multi-taskers you know.” I said in a ‘matter-of-fact’ way and tried my best to keep serious as I turned my attention beşiktaş escort back to the map in front of me.
“Uh huh, that they are” Tom replied, as he leaned in closer to me, to study the map too – or to pretend to at least. I looked over at him out of the corner of my eye, and found him looking at me the same way. Our eyes met and we both burst out laughing at the same moment.
“Actually, I really am sorry for teasing you. I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It’s just that the exact same thing happened to me the first time I took the metro.” We both laughed again, as the waiter brought Tom’s wine.
“Well I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one that that has happened to! So, how’d you find your way in the end?”
I smiled, and blushed a little. “With a little help from a rather cute French guy who took pity on me and eventually helped me find my way back to my hotel.”
“So this is karma it seems; now you can pass on the good deed by rescuing me.”
Tom smiled and stared at me so intently that I almost felt like those piercing brown eyes of his were reaching into my mind and reading from within my thoughts the details of that day on the metro – the day I met Jean- Luc, and the passionate days and nights and weeks that followed. I didn’t know what to say, I could feel myself blushing again and I noticed a glint of amusement in Tom’s eyes yet again. I’m sure it was fairly obvious to him that the cute French guy didn’t just escort me back to my hotel, but came inside too (pun intended). I blushed yet again and looked away, nervously biting my lip and turning back to the map as a flash-back of Jean-Luc and I in my hotel room, our naked bodies entwined on the bed, invaded my thoughts. I was vividly remembering the sensation of my bountiful breasts crushed against his chest, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist and the feeling of his thick hard…
“Well!” Tom said as he reached for his glass, lifting it to make a toast, “to karma” he said.
Tom’s voice brought me back to the present, and awoke me from my fantasy. But the effect of my fantasy on my body continued and I was very aware of the dampness forming between my legs and this hot stranger’s tight body sitting only inches from mine.
I raised my glass to his, “to karma” I said as I moved to ‘clink’ glasses with him. At the last moment, I pulled my glass away.
“Don’t look at the glass Tom; look into my eyes… otherwise…” Tom looked at me very confused, but I explained; “Well, it’s traditional in France to look into the other person’s eyes when you toast. If you don’t you are cursed…” I lowered my voice and leaned into him, to add a melodramatic affect to my horror story “with SEVEN YEARS OF BAD SEX!” I remained completely serious, “and if we’re toasting to karma, we should be extra careful” I said with a wry smile.
Tom stared at me for a moment and laughed and yet again showed off that sexy smile of his. “Well we don’t want to risk that now do we?” staring into my eyes again, he repeated “to karma.” Our glasses clinked and we sipped, still keeping each other’s gaze. We held the gaze for a few moments longer.
“So, I take it you’ve been in France for a while now, if you know about these traditions already?”
‘These traditions’ I liked the playful way he phrased that. I wasn’t sure if he was asking me about French traditions in general or just the ones that pertained to sex? The answer was the same either way.
“Uh huh, I moved to Paris about six months ago. I’m a nerdy scientist working on her PhD, sort of on ‘loan’ from my university in Ireland to a research institute here.” I took another sip of wine, embarrassed as usual talking about my nerdy work in a social context but a little relieved to be talking about something other than sex – despite my arousal, this was moving just a little too fast for me.
“Ireland! The accent had me puzzled for a while there, but I should’ve guessed I suppose,” he said, nodding and looking appreciatively at my silky auburn hair and delicately pale skin.
“Yep, I guess I have the Irish look about me don’t I!” I said, still embarrassed. “And with your accent, and the whole ‘ma’am’ thing when you first sat down, I’m guessing you’re either from the USA or Canada? Not that that narrows it down much!” I added quickly and he smiled again.
“Yep, you got me. I’m from Virginia, USA. And I’m a ‘nerdy’ aerospace engineer, not exactly a scientist but close I guess. I was at a conference in Germany last week and decided to take a little vacation here, all by myself for a few days. I’ve never been to Paris before but always wanted to see what all the fuss was about!”
“And on your very first day here, you get lost on the metro!” I shook my head with mock sympathy.
“Yes, but on the bright side” he continued “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t” he said staring into my eyes again, lifting his glass to clink mine again, fixing me with his gaze beylikdüzü escort the whole time “…learning about French traditions and all.” We clinked glasses and sipped our wine.
“So, I take it then that you’re enjoying your vacation?” I said, not taking my eyes from his.
“It got off to a shaky start but things are looking up.” His eyes were burning into mine.
I could feel my heart starting to beat a little faster, and I had the sense that his was too. I barely even knew this man, but I knew I wanted him. He would be gone in a few days, and it was now or never. I still couldn’t bring myself to just grab him and kiss him, even though I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine. I hadn’t been with anyone since Jean-Luc, and I was getting very aroused by this attractive stranger sitting so close to me. Memories of being here with Jean-Luc were still flooding back to me, remembering those kisses, smelling Tom’s aftershave, sensing his closeness… it was all getting just a little too much for me. I excused myself and headed to the ladies room.
The water felt so cool against my skin. I splashed my face and neck with the cool water and took a few long deep breaths. I appraised my reflection in the mirror of the small bathroom. My cheeks were flushed but not as red as I had imagined them, the rest of my skin had a healthy sun-kissed glow – not an actual tan but not quite as pale as usual. ‘You actually look like you have a pulse for a change,’ I thought to myself as I pulled the bobbin from my hair and let it fall loosely about my shoulders. I took a brush from my purse and ran it through my dark auburn hair, before pinning it back up again, allowing just a few stray strands to fall about my face to complement my side-fringe. I fiddled with my bra a bit, adjusting my cleavage and straightening my rather low-cut v-neck t-shirt. I nodded approvingly at my chest; with C-cups it’s hard not to – not too big, not too small: a bosom to be proud of… so I’ve been told at least.
“Aaargh, there that guy is again, in my head! Damn you Jean-Luc Renard!” I said aloud to my own reflection. “Great! Now I’m talking to myself,” I shook my head and exhaled sharply, willing the momentary insanity away.
I quickly fixed my skirt and grabbed my lip balm from my purse, smearing some over my lips and trying to clear my mind. I gathered up my things into my purse and slung it over my shoulder, taking a moment to give myself one last look in the mirror before heading back out to Tom. All in all, it wasn’t too bad. Not exactly how I would’ve chosen to look on a first date, but this was hardly a date. I took a deep breath, stared into my deep blue eyes in the mirror for a long moment and tried to tell myself that this was not a date. This was just a chance encounter, an opportunity to let the past go and get some closure. Not to mention having some fun with a handsome stranger – something I would not normally do, but then today was not a normal day.
The sun was starting to set as we left the bistro a couple of hours later. We had talked and flirted and gotten to know a little bit more about each other. I had told Tom that I would walk him to the metro stop. I still wasn’t sure yet if I would be brave enough to go through with it and accompany him back to his hotel, or just direct him from the metro station. Despite my flirtations and my longings, I was still a little afraid of letting myself go with someone new.
“So, do you live around here?” Tom asked, trying to make conversation.
“It’s just that the little bistro is a bit off the beaten track, well unless you’re a local of course or a lost tourist” he smiled again and I realised that I hadn’t really been talking much.
My head was swimming with thoughts of Jean-Luc and with the uncertainty that my lust for Tom was more out of a longing for Jean-Luc, for my former French lover. I was so turned on, and so confused at the same time.
“Eh, no actually, not really that close. A friend of mine used to live around here, and I was sort of just hanging out here thinking about him.” I said awkwardly, refusing to meet Tom’s gaze.
Tom stopped walking and turned to face me, “By any chance would this be the same ‘cute French guy’ who rescued you on the metro on your first day in Paris?”
I laughed quietly to myself at Tom’s insight, “it would indeed” I confessed.
“Ah, I see. And he’s no longer in the picture I take it?”
I looked up at Tom, as he looked deep into my eyes again, almost as if reading my mind yet again.
“You would be right again,” I nodded, “he’s living in Lyon now, with his fiancée…well actually probably his wife by now. He was getting married today.” I was stunned that I had just told Tom that, why did I do that?
“And you’re still in love with him?”
It was a very deep and personal question that Tom, this guy that I had met just a few hours previously, had asked me. I should have been furious by the inappropriateness of it, but I wasn’t. I already felt like Tom could read the answer from my mind, without me having to say anything either way. I hadn’t really talked about the situation with Jean-Luc before with anyone. What was it about this handsome stranger that infiltrated my defences so easily?