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I was working in my study when my daughter came in with the mail. With a smile, she dropped the small pile on the desk and turned. In a flash she was gone and I was alone again. I took a break from what I was doing to go through the newly arrived bills, letters and cards.
It was mid-December and there were Christmas cards in the pile of mail. You could tell them apart by their size, larger than the usual envelopes and closer to being square. I thought about my daughter for a moment. She was barely a teenager, just starting to develop. In a few years, she’d be looking a lot like her mother. If she did take after her mother, the other girls would be jealous, and the boys… . Well, I was a teenager once. I know what I was thinking about at that age. I’ll have to keep a close watch on her. She had been wearing a yellow wool sweater. Yellow wool always brings back memories for me.
I separated out the cards from the regular mail. There was one Christmas card I recognized right away. I was expecting it. It always came at about this time in December. I always looked forward to getting it. Not because of who it was from, or because it was written in French. I anticipated its arrival because she was also getting one just like it today.
It was gloomy. Overcast. Outside it was damp and cold. I liked sunny weather better. I leaned back in my chair and looked out the large windows. When it was sunny, the light streaming in illuminated the mahogany paneling and revealed the highlights in the wood. Golds, browns, reds. Today, the gray light made the wood look just brown.
I picked up the card. The postmark was France, as I knew it would be. The size of their cards is a little different from ours so it always stands out in the stack. I held the envelope in my hand and thought about her receiving her card. The old lady still sends each of us a Christmas card. The same card with a personal message scrawled inside. It’s been, how long? Has it really been over twenty years?
The skies looked like rain, or maybe snow later. Weatherbug reported the temperature was still dropping. By nightfall, it might just be barely cold enough for snow – snow that would turn to slush in the morning. Either way, it would be messy. I preferred it warm - warm and sunny. It was sunny in my mind at that moment. Whenever I thought of France, it was always sunny. It was that summer in the early 1980’s all over again.
I had just finished my second year of college. I was at the age where my parents had determined years before that each of their children should experience Europe. It would build character, independence, an appreciation for the American standard of living. At least, that’s what they told me. I, of course, didn’t want to go. I wanted to hang out with my friends over the summer. In the end, I (like my brother and sister before me) gave in to my parents’ wishes. I’d pass through London and Paris before spending a few weeks in Italy, then more in Switzerland. I’d attend lectures and even get college credit for the trip. Finally, as a bonus, I’d spend the final week with Sylvia.
Sylvia wasn’t that old back then, maybe in her very early sixties. In her heart, she was still young. Oh, yes, young at heart. I had met her when I was much younger and she had come to stay with my family. Part of some kind of cultural exchange, I think. As each of us got older, each child took a trip to Europe and ended it with a stay at her house in western France. It was in the Loire valley, château country. I had heard all about it from my parents after their trip, then from my brother and finally from my sister. Then it was my turn to go.
A summer traveling Europe didn’t sound all that bad. It was better than getting a summer job, even though I had to go to class. I went and made the best of it. I enjoyed it, actually. When the classes were over, I wanted to return home with the others I had studied with. They were going home to their family and friends, home to the land of Wendy’s and McDonalds. I was taking a train to France.
I arrived in the village on a sunny summer day. It had rained a lot earlier that summer, but the rains had finally ended and the skies had cleared. It had been uncharacteristically cool that year. I was grateful for the improvement in the weather. Sylvia’s daughter, Annette, met me at the train station and took me to their house. Annette was about forty and lived next door with her husband and young daughter. Sylvia still lived in the farmhouse where she and her now deceased husband had raised Annette. It was a charming house, with a garden in the front, a cave under the house for storage (we’d call it a basement, but it was hewn out of the soft rock under the house and they called it “la cave”), and a backyard full of trees.
So I arrived and Sylvia greeted me at the door with a big hug. She showed me to a kind of upstairs apartment in the back of the house. There was a small efficiency type kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom. Well, part of a bathroom. It had a lavatory and bidet, but the toilet and shower were downstairs in the main part of the house. The apartment was accessed from inside, but was otherwise completely separated from the rest of the house. A separate staircase near the front door led to the other bedrooms in the front part of the upstairs.
I was getting settled in, unpacking my suitcases and looking through mail from home that had preceded my arrival, when I heard someone walk in through the kitchen. I had left the door open. She was… (I always take a deep breath when I think about the first time we met) a year younger than me, slender but not skinny. She had a nice figure, impressive but not overly large breasts and shoulder-length curly hair. I guess the color was more dirty blonde than brunette.
I expected she was another relative of Sylvia so I politely introduced myself, in French of course. Her response made my jaw drop open. A smile gradually crossed her face as she spoke, in perfect English. I’d had Europeans tell me that American is probably the easiest accent to fake because it’s fairly plain. Well, her English sounded perfect. She was definitely American.
“You don’t have to speak French to me. I’m from the States, too.”
Then she giggled at my surprise. The sound of her laughter was delightful, a nice accompaniment to her appearance. I must have been staring because she held out her hand and added, “I’m Sarah.”
I blinked and took her hand, shaking it. Actually, I was reveling in the softness of her skin. I was attracted to her, to say the least. To say the most, I was probably making a fool of myself.
She extricated her hand from mine and plopped down in the chair opposite me. Now that I really looked, she was decidedly American. She was wearing a t-shirt and faded blue jeans. Lee jeans, not Levis. I loved the way she could look so comfortable there, regarding me warmly.
“I guess Sylvia didn’t mention me. I’m staying for a few weeks, part of a school exchange. Our French teacher brought over a group of us to learn about French culture. How long are you here for?”
“Just a week,” I answered.
“That’s a long way to come for just a week. C’est loin, France.”
“Yes, it’s far, but I didn’t come all this way for just a week. This is the end of my trip. I’ve been here for a month, studying in Italy and Switzerland.”
“That sounds so cool. I’m stuck here in this little town for the whole time. You really got to see Europe. I’m so jealous.”
“Actually, I’m glad to have a chance to relax. I’ve been on the go for the last month, moving from city to city. I’m looking forward to getting some sleep and not having to pack again for a whole week.”
“I guess. I wish I could go anywhere else. We’ve done everything there is to do here. Most of us meet at the record shop in town after lunch and hang out with some of the French teenagers. It gets boring after awhile. Do you want to go with me this afternoon?”
I’d go anywhere with her. “Sure, that sounds great.”
“Not really, but it will be nice for everyone to meet someone new. I was so excited when Sylvia told me another American was coming to stay.”
We chatted while I finished getting settled. She was from a different part of the country, but she was an honest-to-goodness American teenager. A very cute one, too. I managed to compose myself a little better and not make any more of a fool of myself. I couldn’t help myself. I really liked looking at her. Before long, I was trying to imagine what she would look like naked.
Sarah and I were getting along so well that I was disappointed when Annette came up to tell us it was time for lunch. Sarah jumped up and I followed her down the stairs. I didn’t mind being last; I got to surreptitiously watch her cute butt as she walked down the stairs.
Lunch was most enjoyable. I had been in Europe for a month so I was used to the different foods. I had already spent a little time in Paris so nothing surprised me. Sarah sat next to me. Annette joined us, sitting next to Sylvia, and the three of them told me about the town. I learned about the group of French students and some of the history of the area. Annette offered to take me on a tour the next morning.
After lunch, Sarah told Sylvia that we were going to hang out with the other students. She took me by the arm and off we went. I brought my camera and shot pictures as we walked. I tried to get Sarah into the edge of the pictures as often as possible.
Our destination was a record store. There were three tables topped with umbrellas in front of the store. A group of obviously American students was sitting there already, drinking Cokes. They greeted Sarah warmly, but looked with interest at me.
“He’s staying with me at Sylvia’s,” Sarah explained. I liked the way she worded it.
We exchanged pleasantries as the speakers at the front of the record store played music. To my surprise, most of the songs were from the U. S. Before long, the conversation died. One of the guys explained that it was really boring in the town. There wasn’t much to do. I couldn’t believe how they could be bored spending a summer in Europe. Someone politely explained that, while I had seen a large part of Europe, they had been stuck in the “tiny one horse town” all summer. I could kind of see their point. It was a shame they had come all that way and not been able to travel more.
I suppose you could call what we were doing “killing time”. At least, that’s what they were doing. I was watching Sarah. She was clearly the most attractive girl in the group. As it got later, the group broke up and everyone headed back to the homes where they were staying to prepare for dinner. Two others walked with us part of the way back to Sylvia’s house.
“À tout à l’heure!” they said as we turned a corner and they went further down the street. I liked how they mixed English and French so easily. I liked how Sarah did it best of all.
When we got to Sylvia’s house, she was busy cooking. She looked up from the stove and grinned as she spoke to Sarah, teasing her for being late.
“Dans la cave ce soir, avec les petites bêtes,” she taunted. She was threatening Sarah with having to sleep in the cave tonight with the little animals. She made clawing motions with her hands as she said the last part.
“Non!” countered Sarah, also grinning. “Vous! Vous dans la cave.”
They obviously teased each other like this often. I was jealous at how well Sarah fit in. I hoped I would be able to fit in like that after a few days.
After dinner, Sarah and I went up to my room. She sat cross-legged on my bed and I took the chair she had used earlier.
“Do you have a girlfriend back home?” she asked me. I wasn’t sure if she was making conversation or if she was really interested.
“No, no one special. How about you? Any special boys awaiting your return?”
She laughed. “Nope, me either.” So far, so good.
She looked like she didn’t want to leave. It was early to go to bed and there probably wasn’t anything else to do. I was glad she was staying with me. I was enjoying getting to know her better. We talked about little things well into the night. Unimportant things really, just an excuse to be together. I sure didn’t mind. She was a delight to look at.
Around ten o’clock, I finally yawned, tired from my long day. I didn’t want Sarah to leave, but I was really tired. She politely excused herself and headed to her bedroom, after explaining that I should close the windows, or at least the shutters before going to bed. Also, she told me about Sylvia’s black cat, who was friendly. Then, Sarah was gone and I was all alone. I got ready for bed, Sarah on my mind the entire time.
I closed the shutters, leaving the windows open, and got into the bed. Lying in the double bed in the dark, sleep didn’t come right away. I was tired, but Sarah was on my mind. That morning, I had never met her. Now, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The more I thought about her, the harder my dick got. I started fantasizing about her, about what she looked like under her clothes. I wondered if she was a virgin and what she might be like in bed. Eventually, I masturbated.
I came, imagining my dick was inside her. When I was finished, I realized my predicament. There was no toilet in my apartment. I had found a box of Kleenex to clean up with, but now I had to go downstairs to dispose of the evidence. I really didn’t want anyone to find something like that in the garbage can. I pulled up my shorts and, concealing the soaked tissues in my hand, went downstairs in the dark. The entire time I was hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone. I especially hoped I wouldn’t run into Sarah. Luckily, everyone else was in bed. I flushed the wadded up Kleenex and went back upstairs, falling asleep almost right away.
When I woke up, I could tell it was bright outside even through the shutters. I got out of bed and opened the shutters. Mignon, the cat, was sitting on a branch outside the window. He jumped onto the windowsill and meowed pleasantly. He had apparently been waiting patiently for me to wake up and let him in. I was shocked to see how late it was. I must have been really tired. I hurriedly got dressed and went downstairs – to look for Sarah.
Sarah and Sylvia were in the kitchen. Mignon announced our arrival.
“You missed breakfast,” Sarah said.
“Sorry. I must have been a lot more tired than I thought. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s alright,” Sylvia said. “Sit down and eat.”
She brought me orange juice and croissants, along with fresh butter and preserves.
“I’m sorry the breads aren’t warm anymore.”
“It’s my fault. I’ll get up on time tomorrow. I promise.”
Sylvia just smiled. To my delight, Sarah sat at the table with me while I ate. She had a cute habit of whistling the opening bar of La Marseillaise when she was thinking. I was starting to realize how much better she had prepared herself for this trip than I had. I was wishing I was more like her. I was wishing I could get to know her better – a lot better.
“I think Annette still wants to show you around town this morning. Can I tag along?”
Does Mignon have a tail? I thought. “Sure, that would be great,” I told her. This day was looking better all the time.
True to Sarah’s word, Annette showed up as I finished my late breakfast.
“I have much to show you. We need to go.”
I tried to apologize while we walked but she assured me that was not necessary. Everybody seemed to be very understanding about my oversleeping. It seemed that my family was well known by the townspeople. Everywhere we went, people greeted me by name. Calling them friendly would be an understatement. I was treated like a celebrity. My arrival had apparently been news in the small town. I suppose they wanted to make me feel welcome by showering me with kindness. I was basking in Sarah’s presence.
We saw the church, the old city gates built by the Romans, the tower, some of the older caves, part of the crumbling city wall, all historical monuments to the ancient past. After a month of studying in Europe, I was churched out. I was polite, though, and made my best effort to enjoy the tour. It was easy. Sarah was with us.
I had known her for about a day but I was already very attracted to her. I wondered how she felt about me. She was spending a lot of time with me. Was it because I was a new plaything, someone different, or was it because she liked me?
The three of us had lunch in town. When we were finished, Sarah suggested she and I go exploring on our own instead of going back home with Annette or to the daily meeting at the record shop. We headed down to the river.
The Loire River must have been grand at one time, or at least at another time during the year. For now, it was narrow, winding back and forth inside what appeared to be a big flood plain. The side of the depression nearest the town was lined in carefully fitted stones. Set in the stones were massive metal rings that appeared to be for mooring ships. When we got to the edge, Sarah started down the stone slope. I took her hand, ostensibly to offer her balance, but really because it was a chance to hold her hand. She smiled at me when I grasped her hand, and she held on tightly. Maybe it was to thank me for being polite enough to ensure her safety. Maybe she liked holding my hand. For whatever reason, I was happy to be touching her.
The slope wasn’t too difficult to descend. It was about as long and steep as the levees you can see along the southern Mississippi River. When we got to the bottom of the river, she didn’t release my hand. Instead, she pulled me along. We ran along what, at one time, had been the river bottom. She was leading us to a hill, kind of an island, covered with trees and along the current path of the river. We had to climb the island and go through the trees to find a clearing along the edge of the river. When we got there, Sarah, still holding my hand, turned to face me.
“I found this place last week, with some friends. We come here sometimes to be alone and talk, or just think. It’s very quiet and private.”
Implications of what she had just said were running through my mind. I made a show of looking around, appreciating the beauty of the spot. In reality, I was appreciating the beauty in front of me.
“This is nice, Sarah. Thanks for showing it to me.”
“Want to sit here awhile? We could just talk, or something.”
“Sure.” Or something sounded really nice.
We sat on the grass, facing each other, cross-legged. She looked at me and smiled shyly. I smiled back, naughty thoughts running through my head. She finally gave a nervous little laugh and started to put her arms loosely around my neck. She hesitated about halfway through and looked down, then finished. I remember thinking at that moment, So I guess she likes me. I reached for her waist, completing the embrace. She tilted her face to one side and started closing her eyes. I couldn’t believe my luck. I kissed her. It was tentative for I wasn’t sure how she felt about me. We had only met yesterday, after all. I can still remember the first touch of her lips against mine. I could hear the gentle sound of the water flowing past the grass a few feet away. There was a light breeze that rustled the tree tops and a bird was singing somewhere in the distance. I could hear Sarah take a breath through her nose. Then, she made a sound like a moan, really soft, that made my heart pound. And with that, the kiss was over. She pulled her lips from mine and we opened our eyes. The water was still flowing, the bird was still singing, but I had just kissed her. I could feel that something between us had changed.
“That was nice,” was all she said. I nodded. Ordinarily, at moments like that, music plays in the background. For us, the bird, the river and the wind were a symphony. We were alone in the world, with each other.
She started to say something else, but I didn’t want the beautiful silence disturbed. I quickly leaned forward and kissed her again. I was moving so fast that she fell back and I fell with her. She was lying on her back in the grass, and I was lying partly on top of her. As we kissed, with more passion this time, I wondered if I was being too forward. She quelled those fears by putting her arms around my back and pulling me more tightly against her.
I had a small erection before that. When I felt her pulling me against her, I was almost instantly at full mast. I could smell the grass mixed in with her shampoo, and maybe just a tiny bit of perfume. It was delightful.
We kissed longer that time than the first one. When we parted, we each took a deep breath and she softly exclaimed, “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow,” I echoed. “That was very nice.”
I didn’t make a move to get off her and she didn’t seem to mind. I kissed her again, this time pressing my tongue lightly against her lips. She parted her lips at once. Her mouth opened and our tongues met for the first time. She moaned louder. I could feel her pulling me more fully on top of her. Following her lead, I shifted until I was lying on top of her with my legs between hers. If someone had discovered us, it might have looked like we were doing something else. I could feel her pubic bone and the softness of her pussy against my hard shaft. From the sounds she was making, I think she could feel it also.
That kiss lasted a very long time. I don’t think either of us wanted it to end. We were two souls, far from home, finding comfort in each other. When it finally ended, I lifted my upper body some, supporting myself on my forearms over her. We looked at each other and she was smiling sweetly. Finally, she laughed. I cocked my head to one side, not understanding, but she just laughed harder.
“Wait, wait,” she said, trying to stop laughing so hard. I waited patiently. When she had her laughter under control, she continued with, “This is a lot more fun than hanging out at the record store.” I laughed at that.
“If we had tried this at the record store, I think they might have asked us to leave.”
“If we had tried this, I think that sidewalk would have been very hard,” she added. “And when we got home…,” she started.
“Dans la cave ce soir,” I supplied. Laughing hysterically, we both finished the threat. “Avec les petites bêtes.”
We were both laughing about as hard as we could. I liked the feeling of her stomach convulsing against me. Her body, while very soft and curvy, had a tightness about it. That tightness which only comes with youth.
The afternoon passed pleasantly in that clearing. We held each other close and kissed. We didn’t go beyond that, but the thought of more was never far from my mind. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I was holding this beauty in my arms and feeling her warm body against me. I admired the sunlight in her hair, her face, her smile, everything about her. She seemed to be having as much fun being so close to me. In time, we got up and walked, arm in arm, along the river. The area was so secluded that we never saw anyone else the entire afternoon. I filed that fact away for (hopefully) future use.
As evening approached, we headed back home. We didn’t want to be too late and risk being threatened with spending the night in the cold cave with the little animals.
As we walked through the door, Sylvia caught sight of us. I saw her expression change when she saw Sarah was holding my hand. There was the faintest hint of a smile, no more. I took that to mean she approved of the change in our relationship. She wasn’t the only one who approved.
Sarah and I sat next to each other at dinner. Sylvia made sure of that, pointedly directing us to those two places. She sat across from us.
“What did you do this afternoon?” she asked innocently.
“We walked around town, and down by the river,” Sarah answered.
“It’s pretty along the river,” Sylvia said. She seemed wistful as she added, “Yes, very private.” It sounded like there was a story waiting to be told, but she didn’t say anymore. If I had to guess, it was about her late husband, but she never mentioned him so I didn’t want to pry. After a minute or two of private thought, she sighed heavily and smiled, refocusing her eyes on the two of us.
Sarah suddenly perked up, remembering something she had forgotten to tell me. “Tonight is the party,” she announced.
“Yes, it is,” Sylvia concurred. “Eat up so we can go.”
I was feeling left out again. “Party?” I inquired.
“Sorry, I probably forgot to tell you. One of the host families is having a champagne party in their cave. All the students and families are invited.”
“You’ll like this cave,” Sylvia explained. “It’s a bar, carved out of the rock.”
After dinner, we were getting ready to go. It was just getting dark. “Wear something warm,” advised Sylvia. I was wearing a long sleeved shirt and a light jacket. Sarah was wearing a short sleeved t-shirt.
“This is all I brought,” Sarah explained. “It’s supposed to be summer.”
That year had brought an unusually cool summer to Europe. I was prepared because I had spent a lot of time in Switzerland, where snow was common in the mountains all year long. “Wait a minute, I have a sweater you can wear,” I told Sarah as I dashed to the back of the house and up to my room.
Returning to the foyer, I held out a yellow lambswool sweater. It was one of two sweaters I had brought on the trip. It was my favorite sweater. Sarah looked very grateful as she slipped it over her head. She pulled it down, smoothing the soft wool over her chest. I made an involuntary sound, one of those happy sounds, like a kind of soft moan. As she pulled the sweater into position, it hugged her breasts beautifully and emphasized her narrow waist. That had always been my favorite sweater, but it had never looked as good as it did on her. I think I would have been content to just stay there all evening and stare at Sarah. Sylvia had other plans.
Seeing Sarah suitably attired for the cool evening, she loudly but pleasantly announced, “Bon,” It was her way of saying “Good, let’s go.” The three of us set off. I walked between the two women, but managed after a short distance to slip my arm around Sarah’s waist. Sylvia didn’t appear to notice, or she didn’t react for our benefit. We chatted about the history of the town, and how most of the buildings had a cave dug beneath them. In addition to being used for storage, many had served as shelter during the various wars.
We arrived at the house where the party was being held and were ushered downstairs. The scene took my breath away. The walls and ceiling were the same as the other caves I had seen, rough hewn rock. The floor had been smoothed and finished. The furnishings were what surprised me. There was a long bar carved out of a section of the rock, done so carefully that it looked like carved wood. Along one wall were two booths, the seats also carved from rock. Shelves along the walls were cut in the rock. It was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen.
I was looking around when one of the men approached me. “Sylvia tells me you like the caves. You must come see the cave under my store before you leave. You will find it very interesting.” He proceeded to tell me how there was a passageway he uncovered that leads to another chamber, an abandoned prison out under the street, which he had discovered only a few months before. When he finished his story, I realized that Sarah had slipped away. I told him I’d like to see the cave if I had time before I left. I was more interested on finding Sarah. I looked around and soon found her in the crowd. She was at one of the booths with some of her friends. She had stood up and was waving me over.
I made my way over to find the other girls at the table sliding around to make room for me next to Sarah. There were whispers about letting me sit next to her, but I didn’t catch on to what was up. In retrospect, Sarah had probably told them about our afternoon by the river. The booth was crowded, but I didn’t mind. It meant I had to squeeze very close to Sarah to sit down. We sipped champagne as we talked, having a good time like all the other guests. Well, maybe I had a better time. I was with Sarah.
The party finally broke up around midnight. We left with a group and walked along, people drifting away as they reached their homes. The three of us left the group and walked through the garden to the door. As Sylvia unlocked the door, she looked to the nearby door to the cave. She raised her finger and shook it, smiling but trying to look angry as she began to say, “Dans la cave ce soir, avec -”
Sarah had cut her off. She took hold of Sylvia’s finger in her hand and pulled it down. Speaking softly and pleasantly, she looked Sylvia directly in the eye as she said, “Non, pas dans la cave ce soir. Dans la chambre ce soir, avec le jeune Americain.”
I was unprepared for the change in the standard taunt. It took me a short while to realize what Sarah had just said. I was sure I had misunderstood.
“Oui,” Sylvia said slowly and with a smile. “Avec le jeune Americain ce soir.”
Inside the house, Sarah turned to me. “Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, I think so,” I answered, still unsure I had understood her correctly.
To be sure I understood, she whispered, “I’m sleeping with you tonight.”
My heart wasn’t sure if it was going to stop beating, or pound out of my chest. My mind was coming to terms with the fact that my wildest fantasies were about to come true.
“I have to get a few things from my bedroom,” she told me right before disappearing up the stairs in the front of the house. I stood there, probably grinning stupidly, with Sylvia and waited for Sarah to return. It seemed to take hours for her to come back down, but it was probably only minutes. It was kind of embarrassing standing there, knowing what we were about to do, and knowing that Sylvia knew what we were about to do. Finally, I heard footsteps on the stairs and Sarah reappeared, carrying a very small travel bag.
She smiled at me, then turned to Sylvia and wished her a goodnight. Sylvia replied with, “Bonne nuit! Dormez bien.” Yeah, we were going to dormez bien, all right. Sarah took me by her free hand and led me to the back of the house. Behind me, I heard Sylvia ascending the staircase to her own bedroom.
I felt excited but nervous at the same time. Sarah was going to spend the night with me. Sex between us was a forgone conclusion. The sudden turn of events was so unexpected to me that I had a myriad of questions swimming in my head. Sarah climbed the stairs ahead of me and I found myself staring at her cute butt. One question came to the forefront – birth control. I didn’t have any condoms with me. I had no idea if Sarah had any with her. Was I willing to take a chance if she didn’t have any? Could I pass up this opportunity with her if she didn’t?
Sarah opened the door to the apartment and I followed. She dropped her bag on the small dining table in the kitchen and turned to me, putting her arms around my neck. I pulled her close and felt her delightful boobs through the soft wool. Thinking of how I was going to see her without that sweater, or anything else, in a few minutes made my dick swell. She felt the change and cooed as she pulled us together more tightly.
Breaking the kiss, I knew I had to ask the question. “Sarah,” I started. She looked lovingly into my eyes, her smile so pleasant, as she waited for me to continue. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to my question, but I knew I had to ask it. For both of us. “What are we going to do about, you know, birth control?”
She giggled. “Don’t worry, silly. I’m on the pill.”
Just what I had hoped to hear. I pulled her to me again and kissed her. These kisses were even more passionate than the ones we had shared along the riverbank earlier in the day. As we kissed, we were stumbling towards the bed in the next room. I was pushing Sarah along as she walked backwards. I was counting on being able to hold her up if she stumbled. It took more steps than I expected (I guess I was distracted by Sarah’s body) before I felt her bend over backwards. The backs of her legs were hitting the mattress. I eased her down as gently as I could, managing to maintain lip contact until I felt her head press against the bedspread. I was about to climb on top of her when she stopped me.
Laughing now, she told me to close the shutters first. I looked to my left and saw that, indeed, the window was open. I got up and closed the shutter, deciding to leave the window open. I expected that things would be heating up in the room and we’d be grateful for the cool air. When I turned around, I saw that Sarah had kicked off her shoes, each landing with a thud. Looking up to me, she sat up and grinned. She lifted her arms and pulled the sweater over her head. She tossed it to the side and did the same with her t-shirt, revealing a satiny bra. I drew in a sudden breath in reaction. She raised her eyebrows at that, and lay back as she unbuttoned her jeans. She wiggled out of them, revealing a matching pair of light blue panties. I moved to help her and finished pulling her pants off her legs, followed by removing her socks. Clad now in only her underwear, she got up and then stood in front of me. As I held her in my arms and kissed her again, I enjoyed the feel of my hands moving over the warm smooth skin of her back. I let my hands trail down to her panties. She looked into my eyes as she began undressing me.
It was enjoyable being undressed by her. I watched her body as she moved and relished the feeling of her skin sliding over mine as she removed my clothes. Before long, the only clothes between the two of us were our underwear. A distinct bulge stood out in the front of mine. Sarah ran her hand over it before moving to hug me. As she did, she moved her own panty covered mound over my bulge, both of us sighing in anticipation. I didn’t notice the chill in the room. We were making our own heat.
In another hug, she moaned into my ear, “Finish undressing me.” I immediately complied with her request. First, my hands wandered to the clasp on her bra strap. I fumbled for only a moment before bunching the elastic fabric in my fingers to make the hooks release. I could feel the tension in the straps release at once as her breasts began to hang free. I pulled back a little and pulled the blue straps over her shoulders, looking down to watch her nipples being revealed. It was a treat to behold as those succulent globes came into view, her bra falling to the floor forgotten. I stared at them, my cock throbbing in my underwear.
“You can touch them. They won’t break,” Sarah said. Her words shattered the silence like glass. I took a breath and realized that I had stopped breathing when I began admiring her body. I reluctantly tore my eyes from her breasts and looked up to her eyes, which were sparkling with amusement. It was apparent she was enjoying seeing me enjoy looking at her so much. I grinned and each of my hands reached out.
Her breasts were smooth - resilient and firm. I delighted in squeezing them. Her moan told me she found my touch just as enjoyable. After holding each globe, I moved a finger over the nipple. I smiled as the nipples became erect from my touch. They resisted my attempts to squeeze them. She jumped as I squeezed and I immediately realized I had hurt her. Looking up, I apologized. She put her hands over mine to stop me from moving away.
“It’s OK. Just be a little gentler. I’m really sensitive there.”
I nodded and continued fondling her. For her part, she slid her hands around my back and played with my butt cheeks as I touched her. When I could wait no longer, I knelt, feeling her hands sliding up my back and to the back of my head. My face was directly in front of her panties. “Finally,” she whispered, apparently as anxious as I was. I could just barely smell her wetness through the satiny fabric. I pressed my lips to her mound and kissed her there. Next, I put my thumbs in the waistband of her panties. I pulled my hands down, drawing her last remaining piece of clothes with them. I could hear the hiss of the satin passing over her thighs. With that, she was completely undressed.
I stared for a few moments, enjoying the sight of the fine curly hairs covering her lips. It was obvious that she was very wet. I put my arms around her and pressed my face into her pussy, tasting her. Sarah made a little sound that told me she liked what I was doing. She liked it a lot.
I didn’t want to make her cum right then. I was worried she might lose her balance. I also wanted her to finish undressing me. I stood up and she kissed me, not bothered by what I must have smelled like or tasted like. That fact excited me further. Sarah needed no prompting; she sank to her knees, apparently anxious to get me naked as well. She took time to rub her face against the lump in my underwear, making happy sounds as she did so. I was watching her and trying not to cum in my briefs before she got me naked. I was successful, but only by exerting a great effort. The excitement and novelty of the situation had me right on the edge.
Sarah must have been able to tell this, because she didn’t start sucking me right away after removing my last piece of clothes. Instead, she looked up at me with a very happy expression on her face, and then kissed all around the base of my dick. She didn’t even try licking the shaft. She took the end in her mouth. The sensation drove me over the edge. I stood there, cumming in her mouth. She seemed to enjoy it because I heard a happy moan before she swallowed. My knees got weak but I didn’t move, not wanting to pull my dick out of her mouth and end the pleasurable sensations.
I was disappointed that I had cum so quickly. As I recovered, I realized that this was best. Had I tried to make love to her first, I would have cum in her pussy as soon as the head entered her. This way, I could get hard again during foreplay and I would last a long time when I finally got to enter her. Sarah also didn’t seem to mind, or she did a good job hiding her disappointment. In fact, she seemed to really enjoy swallowing my cum. That thought hitting my brain helped to get me on my way to a second erection. Her facial expression indicated she felt the change. A few kisses and licks on my dick, avoiding the sensitive tip, and she was standing. Her body was pressed to mine and I savored the feeling of her sliding against me on the way up. The feeling of her smooth breasts moving up my chest was heavenly.
She was now facing me and I could smell my sperm on her breath. She had kissed me after I ate her pussy. Could I do the same for her? I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to taste myself. I warred with this decision before choosing to please her over my own inhibitions. I made the right choice. The taste wasn’t so bad. The thought that my tongue was where my dick had just been wasn’t so bad. It certainly heated her up. She really got into the kiss. She more than made up for my sacrifice during the rest of the night.
I gently guided her onto the bed. I watched her cute bare ass as she crawled on all fours to the middle, then she turned over. I could have stared at her outspread naked body for hours. No, I couldn’t. I wanted to ravage her. I wanted to taste her and feel her. I wanted to hold her against me and cum in her body again as I looked deeply into her eyes this time.
I started at her pussy. I wanted to give her an orgasm with my mouth like she had just done for me. I was determined not to leave that part of her body until she came. For her part, Sarah seemed delighted by my choice. She lay there watching me and playing with her tits as I licked, sucked and probed. She tasted wonderful. Knowing that she was so wet because she wanted me so bad spurred me on. I added one, then two fingers to what my tongue was doing. I loved the wet feel of her warm pussy clutching around my middle and index fingers. I loved the little gasps she made when I did this and gently sucked on her clit at the same time. I looked up, over her light brown bush, to her face. She smiled at me when she saw me looking. Thinking what the view must be from her perspective, between her breasts and over the hair on her pussy, made my dick throb. I was hard again but I wasn’t finished down there yet. I redoubled my efforts. She broke eye contact and looked up to the ceiling. I knew I was about to reach my goal.
Her legs tightened around my head and her hips were thrusting up and down now. She was breathing heavier and it was like she was chanting something I couldn’t quite understand. I let my fingers handle her channel and concentrated my mouth on her clit. I added licking to the sucking – and the building wave crashed over Sarah. She made a loud exclamation and then I could understand what she had been murmuring. She was saying, over and over, “Don’t stop – don’t stop – don’t stop,” very fast. It was louder now. I was having a hard time keeping my mouth in contact with her pussy because she was moving her hips so much, but my fingers in her pussy helped to hold her in place. I think she was enjoying the friction of her pussy against my fingers. The chanting was replaced with a very loud, “Yesss!” which was drawn out. The word rose in pitch before being replaced with an “Ahhh!” that drifted off into a hiss. Her hips relaxed.
Sarah opened her eyes and blinked, then looked at me. She giggled as her breathing slowed down. “You’re good,” she said matter-of-factly. I lifted my mouth from her and just grinned. “That was so good,” she told me. “Whatever you want, whatever, for the rest of the night, it’s yours. I’ll do anything for you.”
I was grinning from ear to ear as I crawled up her supine body. My dick was bent down and dragging across her wet pussy lips as I reached her face. It was then I realized my face was covered with her juices and she probably wouldn’t enjoy it. I tried to grab a corner of the bedspread to wipe my face off. When she realized what I was trying to do, she stopped me.
“Don’t do that,” she said evenly. “You let me kiss you after. I can handle tasting my own juices on your face.” I kissed her. She pulled me to her hotly and our tongues dueled. I knew she was tasting herself and it only made me hornier. We were kissing passionately like we had beside the river, only this time there were no clothes separating our bodies. I could feel her warmth, the softness of her skin, the points of her nipples against my chest. Even the scratchiness of her fine pubic hairs against the base of my dick.
I felt her legs open wide and I opened my eyes. “Do it,” she said simply. It was a command – a command that I had no problem following. I wanted it as much as she did. I raised myself up and got on my knees so I could see what I was doing. I positioned my dick at the bottom of her lips and pushed through the hair. I watched the head of my dick plowing through her fine curls and wet lips. I felt her wetness coating me, preparing me to penetrate her.
She pushed against me, urging me inside. I didn’t make her wait. On the next down stroke, I felt the end of my dick slip into her tight opening and get trapped there. It wasn’t coming out; it was going in. She made a happy sound as she felt it. I pushed against her and felt her opening yield to the intrusion. She stretched as I entered. She was tight against my dick, but she was lubricated enough that I easily slipped inside. As I felt her tight wetness, I realized that it had been best I came in her mouth first. I could never have withstood the feel of her pussy if I hadn’t just cum. I watched in amazement as the shaft of my dick disappeared into her furry opening.
As I was reaching bottom, I leaned forward onto her. Her face looked so happy. She put her arms first on my forearms, then around my shoulders to pull me down to her.
I was lying on top of Sarah, our bodies touching from head to toe. We were looking deeply into each other’s eyes and… we connected. I can’t explain it any other way. We became one at that moment. I was no virgin at that time in my life, but the few women I had encounters with had never elicited such a feeling inside me – deep inside me. I could see the look in her eyes and I knew she was feeling the same way. When we had touched before, when we had kissed beside the river, it was not like this. We were together in a way I felt I’d never be together with anyone else again. It was magical. Our bodies moved in rhythm and I believe our hearts were also beating in rhythm.
We made love that night. That is the only phrase which fits. We held each other close and shared love. I can’t remember how many times we did it, but I still remember every second, every touch, of that first time with Sarah. Later, our bodies exhausted but our hearts still invigorated, I got up and turned off the light. I could hear the cat softly taking up its place outside on the window ledge, a sentinel to guard us as we slept. Its paws barely made a sound on the stone, but then I heard the purring. In a way, I guess I was purring inside.
I returned to bed. Sarah held the covers up for me to crawl under, beside her. We held each other close and I listened to her heartbeat. I listened to her breathing deepen. I listened to her fall asleep next to me. Then, I joined her.
The next morning, it was the sound of birds singing that woke me. Sarah was still at my side. The chill in the air was kept at bay by the quilt, but mostly by the warmth given off by Sarah’s nude body. She was on her side now, facing away from me. I was lying against her back. I draped an arm, under the quilt, across her front and could feel her pubic hair against my fingers. I pressed my hand to her there, to the spot where we had joined. Sarah stirred.
“Ooh, good morning,” she said softly. I held her more tightly with my arm and she sighed. We stayed like that for awhile, no one saying anything. In time, it was a cat’s cry that broke the stillness.
Sarah laughed. “Go let Mignon in, or we’ll have no peace.”
I nodded and got up to open the shutter a crack. The black cat slid through and jumped on the bed. Sarah sat up, her breasts exposed, and petted the cat. The cool air caused her nipples to pucker. I closed the shutter and returned to bed, quickly slipping with her under the quilt and against Sarah’s warm body. Mignon settled in a spot at our feet. Sarah and I were cuddling, facing each other. Sarah reached out and touched my hair.
“I like how you look in the morning,” she said.
“Really?” I chuckled. “I would have thought you’d like me better when I’m cleaned up and dressed.”
“That’s nice, too,” she said, pressing her body harder against me for emphasis. “But this is the best feeling of all.” Then, suddenly, “What time do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” I answered as I turned over and fumbled for my watch on the little table next to the bed. I found it and turned back to Sarah before focusing on the tiny numbers. “It’s 6:00.”
“Good. We have time.” At my confused look, she explained. “We’re meeting everyone at the record store this morning.”
“OK. Why morning?”
“Just because,” she said playfully. I wondered what was up but let it drop.
Feeling her body against mine was making me horny. My morning erection was pressed against her and I could tell she noticed. “How about one more time?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said eagerly. “Oh, yes.” She rolled onto her back, pulling me with her. Still under the covers, I easily positioned myself and entered her. We made love slowly, savoring the feel of each other’s body. The lights were off but enough sunlight was sneaking in through the shutters that we could see each other. At least, we could see each other’s faces. The rest was covered by the quilt and sheet. In time, I watched her face up close as an orgasm contorted her features. It was followed quickly by a second one.
“Wow,” she whispered. I raised an eyebrow in question. “I’ve never had two orgasms like that before.” I smiled, feeling pride. “Thank you.” I kissed her in answer. She held me tightly with her arms and tried to roll us over. I helped her and ended up on my back with her on top. She pushed the covers back and sat up, riding me. I watched with rapt fascination as she played with her tits. I loved seeing my dick sliding wetly in and out of her brown-haired pussy. She released one breast and put that hand over her clit. She rubbed circles as I felt my own orgasm building. She looked right at me, concentration apparent on her face. Then, she came. Seeing her in such pleasure pushed me over the edge. I pushed up against her and squirted. She moaned when she felt my warm sperm coursing into her body. She pressed her bottom hard against me until I finished, then she lay on top of me. I reached around her and tugged on the covers, pulling them up over us as our bodies started to cool. I could feel my cum seeping out of her as my erection shrank.
“I think I’ll need a shower after this,” I observed.
“Let’s take it together,” she suggested. I looked surprised and she giggled, a delightful feeling with my soft dick still partly held by her pussy. “She knows we slept together. I don’t think us taking a shower together will scandalize her any further.”
“I think you’re right. Still, it feels funny.”
“No, not funny. It feels right.” She ran her hands over my cheeks, then down my sides. Finally, she slid her hands beneath me and over my ass. “Very right.”
We got up and gathered our clothes. I slipped on shorts and a t-shirt to walk downstairs to the shower. Sarah only put on a t-shirt. At least it was a long one. She saw me looking at her with astonishment.
“Well, I’m just going to take it off,” she said. I shook my head in disbelief. “She’s probably not even up yet, anyway. She won’t see us.”
I crossed to the door and opened it. Not hearing any sound from downstairs, I decided Sarah was right. Mignon preceded us down. At the base of the stairs, Sarah entered the tiny water closet. I waited discreetly outside for her to finish, then took my turn. When I came out, she was already in the bathroom, warming up the shower.
She heard me close the door and said, “Yesterday morning, I was thinking about you when I took my shower.” I sat on the wooden bench next to the two towels she had set out. “I spread my legs about where you’re sitting – and thought about you.” It took me a few seconds to catch on to what she was implying. My eyes widened. “Yes, girls do that, too,” she told me. She was smiling, mostly at my surprise. “Did you think about me in here?”
I felt myself blush as I nodded, admitting guilt. “I did it in the shower, though. I was thinking about how you had just been in there all naked.”
“I did it in the shower as well,” she confessed.
“Girls probably do it a lot more often than boys,” she told me.
I got up and pulled her nude body against mine. I kissed her before saying, “I’m here now. You don’t need to pretend. You can have the real thing.”
“Maybe I want both,” she said mischievously. Then she laughed at my expression. “Maybe not.”
We got in the shower and took our turns under the spray. She joined me when it was my turn and I enjoyed the feel of her water slick skin against mine. She slid herself up and down my body and I was soon hard again. She said nothing. It was all done with facial expressions. She gave me a look that left no doubt as to what she wanted. Then, she turned around and put the palms of her hands on the wall. Her butt was pushed out and I knew what she wanted me to do next.
My dick was fully erect. I took a step towards her and my dick found its own way. The head was trying to wedge itself into her lips. With the water covering the sound, she moaned loudly when she felt the contact. I put my hands on her hips and pulled myself to her. My dick managed to seat itself in her opening. With her pussy still slick from my last orgasm, I easily stretched her open again and entered her. It only took one stroke – one long and incredibly pleasurable stroke – to enter her completely. Then my flank was pressed against her ass cheeks.
“Sarah,” was all I said, more of a moan, as I started thrusting in and out of her body. She pressed back against me as I did and we settled into a delightful rhythm. We were noisier in the shower than we had been in the bedroom.
She reached behind herself and put a hand on my stomach to stop me. She pulled off my dick and turned around. “Do you think you could support my weight?” she asked.
“I think so. What do you have in mind?”
“I want to try doing it standing up.”
“I’ve never done it that way.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I think I can show you what to do. I saw some pictures in a book.”
She put her arms around my neck and told me to put my hands on her ass. “Ready?” she asked and I nodded. She pulled on my neck and lifted her legs off the ground, wrapping them around my waist. Just like that, I was holding her. She let go with one hand and worked my dick back into her pussy. I’m still not totally sure how it worked, but we ended up with me holding her and my dick inside her. It felt really nice. I couldn’t help wondering if she had done this before with someone else. She seemed to have had practice with this position.
I couldn’t thrust much that way. She could do a little but it was enough. I held her and we kissed. It was different and fun but I knew I couldn’t cum that way. I guess she knew that as well because she soon pulled off me and lowered her legs to stand.
“Thanks. I like that but I know it’s difficult for you.”
“It’s certainly one of the most acrobatic positions I’ve ever tried.”
“It made me cum, but I want to do the same for you.” Then she turned around again and I knew what she wanted. I reentered her and, before long, I came. After, she turned around and we kissed under the warm spray of water. It was only then that we got down to the actual business of what we were supposed to be doing in the shower. I enjoyed taking a shower with her. It was so sensual to feel my hands moving over her skin, lubricated by the soap and water. We washed each other. Once we were both lathered up, we rubbed our bodies against each other, using each other for a washcloth. The slickness, the slipperiness, the sensation was all pure delight. Knowing it was Sarah I was rubbing against made it perfection. We had fun getting clean; we had fun playing with each other.
After we were out of the shower and dressed, we went to the kitchen for breakfast. While I had enjoyed my night with Sarah, I wasn’t sure how to face Sylvia; I was somewhat embarrassed. Sarah, on the other hand, was living the cliché of glowing after sex. She really looked pleasantly just-fucked. We sat down at the table across from Sylvia and I blushed all through breakfast. Sylvia, bless her, never mentioned it but I knew she knew what we had been up to.
After breakfast, she announced that we were leaving for Paris the next day. The reason hit me like an anvil.
“It’s your last few days in Europe. I thought you’d like to show Sarah around Paris before you left.”
Before I left. I had been avoiding that thought. Now, here it was lying on the table in front of me like a piece of leftover meat. It hung there and I couldn’t avoid it. We were just starting to get together and I had to deal with the fact that I was soon going to go home – without her. I felt the panic in my chest, then lower in my stomach.
I looked over at Sarah. Her expression showed that she was feeling about the same way. She had stopped glowing. I started to speak, but she beat me to it.
“Let’s just make the best of the time we have left.” I managed to nod without my eyes tearing up. “Now, finish your breakfast,” she told me. “We’re meeting everyone at the record shop this morning.”
Meeting in the morning was unusual, but I was too upset to ask about that. After breakfast, Sarah took my hand and we walked to the record store. As we approached, we saw the usual gang was all there. They were looking anxiously towards us as we approached. We bought two Cokes and sat. The girls looked especially anxious as they watched Sarah.
“Well?” one of them finally asked.
“Well?” Sarah echoed.
“”Did you, you know… do it?” another finally asked.
Sarah smiled. I suddenly realized what was going on. I felt my face coloring.
“I knew it!” squealed the first girl.
We had become instant celebrities in our little group. I was grateful the other people around us probably didn’t speak English. I was embarrassed about the cause for our celebrity.
The guys cheered my conquest, though I felt that conquest was a very wrong word for what Sarah and I had shared. I certainly hoped she felt it was more than being conquered. The girls were crowding around her, excitedly chatting about our night. I felt really uncomfortable.
I stayed there for Sarah’s sake, but anxiously looked for any opportunity to leave. At last, lunchtime arrived and everyone had to go home. As soon as Sarah and I were away from the group, I told her how I felt. She explained that everybody was bored and any news was cause for interest.
“Is that how you felt about the time we shared? News?” I asked, not sounding very kind.
“No.” She stopped and put her arms on mine, turning me to face her fully. “I know it was more. Much more. I shared it with them because …” Her face dropped, she looked at the ground for a few moments. Still looking down, she continued. “It was wrong. I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t said anything now.”
I let her think about that for a time. I felt bad for making her feel that way, but I was still a little upset that our special time had been shared so publicly. I touched her cheek and she finally looked up at me. When I spoke, my voice was very low.
“I forgive you. I wanted to know how you felt about it.” I could feel tears touching the hand I had on her face. “It was special to me – very special – and I thought maybe it wasn’t special to you.”
“No! Not at all. It was special. Wonderful. Terrific. Fantastic –“
I cut off her comments with a kiss. It was a warm kiss, full of passion. I didn’t care that we were in public. In my mind, it was only the two of us.
When our lips parted, she looked at me, the tracks of tears streaking her lovely face. “I wish I had kept it just between us.”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is this.” I touched between her breasts, feeling the soft texture of the yellow lambswool sweater, my sweater, that she was wearing. I could just feel her heartbeat with my fingertips. “What’s in your heart.”
She hugged me. “Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.” She sighed. “Meeting you has been so wonderful. I just don’t want it to end.”
“Don’t worry about that. Not now. Let’s make the most of this time.” In my heart, I knew we were just making memories. There was little chance our relationship could last beyond the next few days. I didn’t want to face that reality yet, and I didn’t want her to have to face it, either.
We went back to Sylvia’s house and had lunch. She showed concern that Sarah was upset about something, but she didn’t ask. Sarah warmed up and became her usual self by the time lunch was about over.
Sylvia explained that we were going to ride to Paris with Annette. We’d stay at her apartment in Argenteuil, a suburb of Paris. She worked at the Renault factory there.
“I thought Annette lived here,” I said.
“No, this is their summer home. They visit me for a month every summer. Annette has to go back to work now. Her husband and daughter will return in two more weeks. You can take the train into Paris every day.”
I knew the unspoken part of her statement. Until it’s time for you to go home. I’m sure Sarah knew it as well.
“You will leave early tomorrow morning, so pack tonight. It’s a long drive. Sarah, pack enough for two weeks. Annette will bring you back when she comes to pick up her husband and daughter.” Sylvia didn’t have to tell me how much to pack.
After lunch, I took Sarah aside. “Let’s spend the last afternoon here alone together. How about another walk along the river?”
“I like that idea. I’ll bring a blanket.” I thought about why we might need to take a blanket. Then I smiled and nodded.
Sylvia didn’t ask why we took a blanket. She probably knew. I didn’t care. We walked down the street to the riverbank, then down the paved slope. I marveled again at the size of the large rusty rings that were probably used to tie up the ships. Before long, we were walking along the old riverbed towards the trees that lined the current course of the river.
We followed a trail, hand in hand, just listening to the sounds. We could hear the birds, the wind in the trees, even the water flowing past. We weren’t in any hurry. We had all afternoon and it was going to be just for us. In time, we found a new clearing. Soft grass covered the ground and it was very secluded. Sarah spread the blanket on the ground before turning to me. I took her in my arms.
“The first night you were here, I dreamed about making love with you in the sunshine,” she said, her voice just barely audible above the whisper of the wind in the trees overhead. “I dreamed it all in French.”
“I was thinking about you, also.”
“Thinking, or dreaming?” she asked, a smile in her voice.
I grinned. “Thinking.”
“Uh-huh,” she said slowly. Then, “That’s the advantage to having a bedroom all to yourself. Of course, a girl can do that a lot more discreetly than a boy can.”
I raised my eyebrows at that comment, but she didn’t explain. Instead, she knelt and pulled me with her. She leaned back until I was on top of her. I looked into her eyes and saw love there. I closed my eyes as I kissed her. In her kiss, I felt all the things I loved about France. I felt the warmth of the sunshine, the freshness of the grass, the intensity of the flavors of the orange juice and butter – all the things I would remember about the French countryside. As we kissed, she rolled us over until she was on top. Then, breaking the kiss, she sat up astride me and removed her shirt. She laughed when she saw my alarmed expression.
“What if someone finds us?”
“What if?” she responded. There was mischief in her eyes as she handed me her bra, the fabric still warm from her skin. I gently laid it aside, making sure it was at least near her shirt in case we had to get dressed in a hurry. “Don’t worry about it. We won’t get caught,” she assured me. Then she leaned forward again, though not quite far enough for me to kiss her lips.
I didn’t understand. “What do you want?” I asked.
“You’ll think of something,” she said and she began whistling La Marseillaise. She was being silly and her giggling interfered with the whistling. Her breasts jiggled a little as she giggled. Then I caught on. I captured one nipple in my mouth and sucked. The whistling was replaced with soft sighs. Her nipple was stiff in my mouth, whether from excitement or the cool air. It really didn’t matter, nor did I have time to wonder about it. Sarah was wiggling against my growing erection, pressing her pubic mound against me. Even though she still wore her blue jeans (and almost nothing else), I could feel the soft cushion of her hair. I switched to the other nipple and I felt her hands on the back of my head, holding me to her breast.
Throwing caution to the wind, I decided it was worth the risk of getting discovered. I was ready for more. More of her body, more of her love. I released her nipple and pushed her aside. I sat up, unbuttoning my shirt. She saw what I was doing and she removed the last of her clothes. I vividly remember what she looked like as she removed her panties. We were in the sun in the middle of the clearing. The bright summer sun illuminated her pubic hair. Her hair glowed in the sunshine. It was the most beautiful color I have ever seen. The memory of what she looked like, lying naked in the sunshine on that blanket has stayed with me through the years.
We were kissing again, this time with our naked bodies pressed together. Unlike our last encounter out here, I knew where this one was going to lead. Before we got there, however, I moved lower, between her legs, and explored her pussy with my tongue. I looked up at her face to see it contorted with pleasure. I was looking through her patch of golden brown hair. She was playing idly with her breasts and her eyes were closed. I wasn’t patient enough to make her cum that way before moving on, but I knew we had all afternoon. When I stopped, it was my turn to lie down and she sucked me. She wasn’t doing it to get me hard enough to fuck her. I was already there. She did it to give me pleasure, and for her own pleasure. She seemed to really enjoy sucking my dick. I enjoyed watching her, with her face framed by the trees behind her. The sucking sounds her mouth made around my cock were accompanied by the sounds of the breeze blowing through the trees.
I stopped her well before I reached orgasm. I wanted to finish inside her. She didn’t protest; she seemed to realize what I had in mind. She got up from between my legs, letting my dick drop softly from her lips, to lie on her back and she spread her legs. Again, I enjoyed the vision of her pussy in the sunshine as I moved into position between her legs. I held my dick in my hand and moved the head between her lips. I liked watching her fine strands of hair being parted, moving against my shaft. The color was like that of gold. The feel was of coarseness against my head. I could feel her warm wetness along the bottom of my shaft. On the down stroke, I found her opening and pressed the tip into her. As I did, a big gust of wind came along. It was like her sigh, amplified for all to hear, as I entered her tight passage.
I reached beneath her shoulders and held her body to mine as we made love in the sunshine, oblivious to the world around us. Overwhelmed by passion, I had forgotten my concerns about being discovered. We stayed in that one position, though I found it necessary to shift slightly and change the angle from time to time to be able to last long enough for her to cum. We made love twice, spending the time in between giving and receiving oral sex. By early afternoon, when the sun wasn’t as high in the sky, the chill was getting to us. We cuddled together on half of the blanket, wrapping the other half around our nude bodies. We savored the feel of bare skin on bare skin and enjoyed the time together. I listened to her heartbeat, the breeze and the gurgle of the river. I was trying to memorize the experience because I felt I’d never experience anything as wonderful for the rest of my life.
Eventually, we had to get dressed and return home. Sarah cleaned herself with the blanket. When I commented on the mess we had left on the material, Sarah explained that she’d offer to wash it for Sylvia when we got back. I suppose it didn’t matter. Surely, Sylvia must have guessed what we had been doing all afternoon.
After dinner, we packed for the trip to Paris. A little later that evening, there was another party with the other school kids. Sarah and I had a good time even though the fact that our time together was rapidly coming to an end was hanging over us. After the party, we slept together again in my bed. Sylvia didn’t even comment, instead wishing us bonne nuit and going off to her bedroom without so much as a glance.
I took Sarah by the hand and led her up the stairs where we undressed each other. As I was removing her clothes, I told her how much I had enjoyed admiring her body in the sun. She confessed that was the first time she had made love outdoors. “I’ve fantasized about it before, but I’m glad I got to actually do it that way with you.” I kissed her, my left hand caressing a breast as our tongues sparred.
When she finished removing the last of my clothes, she gave me a blowjob. I was already hard before she even touched me. My dick jumped when the wet tip of her tongue made contact and she giggled. She leaned forward and captured the head with her mouth; the sudden warmth made my knees feel weak. On her knees, she looked up at me with love in her eyes as her head bobbed on my erect shaft. I watched her, running my fingers through her soft hair. I was mesmerized by the sight of my shaft emerging wetly from her lips, only to disappear again a second later. I could tell she was smiling even though her mouth was full, her lips stretched to accommodate the girth. The corners of her eyes betrayed her smile. The look in her eyes made my heart melt.
She coaxed an orgasm from me. I could hear her swallowing noisily as I spurted into her mouth. When she had finished swallowing, she let my now flaccid dick plop from her lips. Licking her lips as she turned her face back up to me, she said with a groan, “I’m going to miss that taste.”
I reached down to touch her cheek and I started telling her that there would be others after me, but she stopped me. With a tear starting to trail down from one eye, she told me in a quavering voice, “Don’t. Not here. We’ll talk about that in Paris. Not here. This place, this room, will always be our special place. No sadness. Just happiness.” Then she stood and kissed me softly. She led me to the bed and we crawled in. I went down between her legs and returned the favor, bringing her to a noisy orgasm before I entered her. We made love so slowly that night. It was as if we were both trying to savor every sensation so we could remember it forever. After the orgasm in Sarah’s mouth, I was able to stretch out my next one. She came many times that night in my bed. When my legs grew tired, she got on top and rode me. I loved watching her play with herself as we made love. She wasn’t shy about touching herself in front of me and I wasn’t shy about watching her.
When we finally settled down to go to sleep, we had enjoyed a good workout. She slept with my sperm inside her. I could feel it starting to leak out onto my leg as she curled up against me. My last thought before I fell asleep was of how she had looked in the sunshine.
Morning came and drew us out of our lovers’ slumber. We made love again in the morning, though it was quicker that time. After, we took our clothes downstairs to shower together again. When we came downstairs, I could hear Sylvia in the kitchen getting breakfast ready. She was apparently trying to give us privacy because she didn’t call out when she heard us.
Clean and dressed, we joined Sylvia for breakfast. Whether it was because this was my last meal in her home or to celebrate the night Sarah and I had shared, she had decorated the table. An ivory lace tablecloth adorned the table, which was unusual for breakfast in her house. Even the selection of food was special. As we ate, Sarah held my hand under the table. I savored the warm softness of her touch.
We heard Annette’s car arriving in front of the house. I helped Sarah get her suitcase from the front bedroom before going up the back stairs to get all of my things. We loaded the car before turning to say our farewells to Sylvia. What could I tell the woman who had given me so much? It was because of her that I had spent this time with Sarah. Before I could thing of anything, she reached out for each of us. Holding my hand in one of hers, Sarah’s in her other, she pulled us together.
“You two have given me so much joy. I’m going to keep watch over you two in the years to come. I’ll check up on how you’re doing. Don’t forget me.”
We both hugged her. I assured her we could never forget her as I thanked her for her hospitality. Shyly, I added thanks for giving me the time with Sarah. She smiled and kissed both of my cheeks. Then she sent us off.
Sarah sat in front of the tiny car next to Annette. I sat in the back where most of the seat was taken up with my luggage. Sarah reached back and I knew what she wanted. We held hands as we rode. We were going away from where we had met. We were going towards a train in Paris that would take me to London, where a plane would take me away from Sarah. I tried to not think about that, remembering Sarah’s request the night before.
It was a long drive. We chatted about the countryside and Annette told us about much of the history of the areas we were passing through. It was late afternoon when we arrived at a cluster of apartment buildings. There was little to distinguish one building from another. I made a mental note of the address so I’d be able to find my way back. We entered the lobby to find one of the two elevators out of service. Annette looked distressed.
“It’s not a problem,” I told her. “We’ll just take the other one.”
“You don’t understand,” she explained in French. “The even elevator is broken.”
“Even?” I asked. Was there an odd one?
She patiently explained, “My apartment is on an even floor. This elevator only stops on the odd floors.”
“You’re kidding,” I said in English, astonished into forgetting to speak French with her.
“No.” She looked directly at me as if I had said something strange.
“OK,” I said uneasily as the “odd” elevator’s door opened. We entered. Sure enough, all the buttons were only for the odd floors. I was standing near the buttons so I turned and asked her what floor to press.
“I live on the 16th floor, so press 17.” Then she added as explanation, “It’s easier to walk down than up.”
I pressed the button for 17 as I looked at Sarah. She looked like she was trying to suppress a grin. I shook my head in disbelief as the elevator started to move.
The elevator deposited us on the 17th floor, where there was only one door for an elevator. Exiting the elevator, Annette headed for the stairs and led us down to the 16th floor, and to her apartment.
The apartment was small and had only two bedrooms. Annette indicated the master bedroom with a nod of her head. “You two take that one. I’ll sleep in my daughter’s bedroom.”
I was a little taken aback by the nonchalant nature with which she assumed Sarah and I would be sleeping together. I guess Sylvia had explained things to her. Sarah walked past me into the room. I followed her and we dropped the bags we were carrying.
From behind me in the hall, Annette was saying, “We should be able to get the rest of the baggage in one more trip.”
We followed her out of the apartment. Entering the stairwell, I started to walk up to catch the elevator. Annette chuckled. “No, it’s easier to walk down than up.” She pointed the other way and we walked down to the 15th floor to catch the elevator.
With the last of our things inside, we could settle down for the evening. Over dinner, Annette explained that she worked at the Renault factory and she could drop us off at the train station to catch a train into the city on her way to work. In the afternoon, we could walk back to the apartment from the train station. We all went to bed early.
I heard Sarah close the door as I was going through my suitcase. She crawled onto the bed and watched me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for pajamas.”
“Silly, you won’t need those,” she giggled. “Why do you think she let us share the double bed instead of me and her?”
I thought about that for a moment, realizing she was right. I turned around and joined her on the bed.
“So what do you want to do now?” I asked, my mind racing with the possibilities.
“The same thing you’re thinking of doing.”
“Eating pussy?” I teased.
“No,” she laughed, “but you’re on the right track.”
I joined her on the bed. She was already pulling off her clothes and I followed suit. I enjoyed watching her body becoming exposed. She seemed to be enjoying watching me undress as well. Before long, I pulled her to me. She sighed as her breasts were crushed against my chest. I kissed her, feeling her draw in a breath from my mouth. I rolled us over and ended up with me on top of her. I started to position myself to enter her but she pushed me away.
“Wait,” she said. “Let’s pull down the bedspread first. I don’t want to stain it. The sheets are easier to wash.”
I nodded and we pushed the covers down until only the bottom sheet remained. She pulled me back onto her. One of her hands went between her legs to guide my dick. Once everything was in position, her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me to her, forcing me to enter her fully. I moaned loudly as I felt her warm slipperiness engulfing me.
“Shh!” she admonished. “Annette might hear us.”
“As you said, she let us share the bed for a reason.”
“But we don’t have to let her know exactly what we’re doing.”
“OK, I’ll try to be quieter,” I promised.
We made love using kisses to muffle our moans as we each came. I enjoyed feeling the smoothness of her skin as we loved each other. I wanted to be able to remember what it was like with her because I knew our time together was almost at an end. I realized I was going home and might not see her again for a long time – if ever. I didn’t want to think about that possibility.
We cleaned up after sex with a box of Kleenex that Sarah found on the nightstand. I turned out the lights and we cuddled in the darkness. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. I could also feel her warm breath on my chest. I savored everything about Sarah.
I woke up to the sound of Annette moving in the kitchen. Sarah’s legs were still wrapped around one of mine. Her curly hair was damp from what we had done last night. I carefully pulled free of her and got out of bed. I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt to go the bathroom. I went into the kitchen next where Annette was fixing breakfast. She looked up and smiled when she saw me.
“I’ll be leaving for work in an hour. I can take you to the train station on the way,” she suggested.
“That would be nice. I’ll wake up Sarah.”
“There’s probably not enough hot water for two showers,” she suggested.
I smiled at her when I realized what she was saying. I headed back to the bedroom where Sarah was starting to stir. She opened her eyes and saw me. The smile on her face when she saw me warmed my heart.
“Is it time to get up?” she asked, sleepily. I nodded.
“Annette will take us to the train station on her way to work – if you get moving quickly.”
“OK, I’m going.” She got out of bed, wearing nothing at all. I smiled. I love looking at a woman with a body like hers.
“She suggested we take a shower together to save hot water,” I added. Sarah’s eyes showed her surprise. I laughed. “My response exactly. Let’s go take a shower.”
Sarah pulled on a long t-shirt and we headed across the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, we shed our clothes. Naked and alone with her, my erection rose to the occasion. Sarah noticed as she sat down.
“Stop it. I can’t pee when I’m excited,” she complained good naturedly.
I obediently turned around quickly but the bathroom was tiny. When I turned, my erection hit the edge of the wooden counter with a soft thud.
“Yeah, like that will help,” she added. I looked back apologetically but she was grinning. The sound confirmed that I was no longer interfering with her.
I bent over to turn on the water. As I was standing up, I felt Sarah’s warm body embracing my back.
“Ohhh, that’s nice,” I moaned. I could feel her breasts against my back, her soft bush pressing against my ass. Her hands slid around to my front, one to my chest and the other lower to my tumescent cock. She gripped it firmly and stroked slowly. “We’re supposed to be taking a shower,” I suggested without much firmness.
“I’m getting you ready for what we usually do in the shower,” she explained.
We headed through the shower curtain together and under the warm spray but she never released me. I turned around to face her and used my fingers to check if she was ready.
“I think we’re both ready to ‘take a shower’,” I announced. Without speaking, she released me and put her arms around me. Pulling me against her tightly, she kissed me, then turned around and bent at the waist. I put one arm around her and guided my dick with the other. Before long, we were moving back and forth. We didn’t speak or even moan. We both knew we didn’t have long. It was a quickie followed by an equally quick shower. I enjoyed cleaning Sarah’s pussy. It was the least I could do. I had gotten it all messy.
We scampered across the hall wrapped in towels and got dressed. When we joined Annette in the kitchen, she had breakfast ready. We ate quickly and got together the things we were taking with us into Paris for the day. I brought my camera, Sarah took a large purse and we each took a sweater. We walked down a floor to catch the working elevator and Annette took us to the train station.
As we got out, she reminded us, “Remember, when you get back this afternoon, the address is on Allée Henri Walton. It’s a short walk from here.” I thanked her and she drove off.
We bought tickets into Paris and joined the commuters waiting for the next train. The French train system is quite efficient. A train came along in just a few minutes and we were soon whisking along into the city. Sarah sat next to the window and I sat next to her as we watched the scenery go by. I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She pressed her head against mine.
When the train stopped inside the large station, we got out and I led the way. I had passed through Paris on the way to Sylvia’s house and I had read about the general layout of the city. We bought a small stack of yellow tickets for the Metro and headed underground. I looked at the city map on the wall and pressed the button for our destination. A path lit up on the map showing the trains we needed to take. I made note of it and led Sarah to the correct platform. The crowd was heavier now as people were headed to work. A blue train pulled alongside the platform to stop with a scream of its horn and the doors opened. We flowed aboard with the crowd and held onto the overhead rails. There was nothing to see between stations – we were in a tunnel. The only thing to see was each station we passed. At each one, we stopped and people got off or on. Before long, we had arrived at every tourist’s stop – the Eiffel Tower.
We got out and climbed the stairs to the street. Soon, there before us, was the famous arched tower. It was so early that the line for the elevator to the top was just starting to form. We quickly got to the observation deck at the top. Comparing the view to my map, I pointed out the major tourist spots to Sarah and we discussed where we wanted to go next.
We had all day to just be together and see the city so there was no hurry. It was wonderful holding hands and being tourists. We hit the usual sights, using the Metro as necessary. It wasn’t very crowded once the morning rush was over. I took pictures; most of them included Sarah. Using the camera’s self timer, I managed to take several of both of us. My favorite was one of us kissing alongside the Seine. We bought souvenirs, too. At a flea market we bought matching sweatshirts bearing the crest of the Sorbonne. We had lunch at a sidewalk café.
About mid-afternoon, we were hungry again. I still had some green meal vouchers from my trip. They were good anywhere in Europe and I wanted to use them up before I left. We found a bakery shop with the meal voucher sign in its window. Inside, I explained to the old woman that I wanted to use my meal vouchers. She nodded, but when I pulled out a stack her eyes grew wide. In excited French, she exclaimed that for all those vouchers, she could fill a platter. She took out a cardboard circle from beneath the counter. As we pointed to pastries in the glass cases, she started piling them on the cardboard, indicating with her hand that we could have more until the platter was piled high. I also asked for a few Cokes. When the platter was full, she drew out a sheet of what looked like gold and white gift wrapping paper and wrapped the bundle, drawing the top into a cone shape. She used gold ribbon to bind it together, tying it into a bow with a loop for a handle at the top. I paid with a sheaf of meal vouchers, much to the old lady’s pleasure.
We strolled along the sidewalk until we came to Manceau Park and found a secluded bench. We enjoyed trying all varieties of pastries, laughing and feeding each other. It was a delightful time, a special time just for the two of us.
After a day of sight-seeing, shopping and eating, we headed back to the train station. The crowd was again heavy as people were headed home to the suburbs. Joining the crush, we bought tickets and found the next train heading through Argenteuil. Boarding, we found seats together for the ride. The train stopped and we got off, along with a few other people. We had to cross the tracks by using what the French call a subway, an underground walkway. The train roared away as we entered the tunnel. On the street at the other side of the tracks, we walked to Annette’s apartment building.
Not far from the train station, we stopped to watch a group of men playing boules. They were throwing chrome balls at a wooden knob in the dirt, trying to knock each other’s ball away from the target. While waiting for their turn to throw, the men sat at a small table and sipped tiny glasses of Pastis. They smiled at us and one of them called us over. They offered us glasses and we tasted the licorice flavored liqueur. I was even allowed to try throwing, though I didn’t do very well. My ball landed nowhere near the wooden cochonnet, nor was it near the other players’ balls. The man who had called us over showed me how to throw the ball with an arch, putting a backspin on the heavy metal sphere. My next attempt landed my ball against another one, emitting a heavy clank as my ball moved the other ball. Unfortunately, I only moved the other player’s ball closer to the cochonnet. The object was to land closest to the cochonnet, or at least to knock your opponents’ balls further away. The men laughed at my attempt and we thanked them. Draining our glasses, we said our goodbyes and headed home.
Annette was cooking when we arrived and she greeted us pleasantly. We told her about our day over a pleasant meal. After dinner, she took us back to the city in her car and we had drinks at a café along the Champs Elysées. It was unseasonably cool and Sarah snuggled against me. Annette smiled when she saw what Sarah was doing.
The next day was my last in France, our last together. On the drive back to the apartment that night, Sarah asked Annette if we could spend the morning alone together at the apartment. Annette gave her a knowing smile and said that would be fine. “If you’d like, I can take you to the train station when I go back to work after lunch. You’ll have all morning alone.” When we got home, Annette quickly went to bed, leaving us alone.
I smiled at Sarah and took her hand. She knew what I had in mind and smiled in return as I led her to the bedroom. She reached back and closed the door. I sat on the edge of the bed with her standing in front of me. Looking up into her eyes, I unbuttoned her shirt. I removed it and her bra, freeing her luscious breasts to hang in front of my face. I leaned forward and gently sucked each nipple, enjoying how each in turn hardened in my mouth. While I was sucking, my hands were on her back, exploring the exposed skin before sliding lower to caress her ass. In time, my hands moved to the front to undo her belt and pants. I slid them off her hips and down. She stepped out of them, obviously enjoying the attention I was paying to her body. Worshipping might even be a better word. I fingered her mound and slit through her panties. From time to time, I let one finger slip under the leg opening to stray across her curly pubic hair, though it was only a tease. I purposely avoided her slit with my bare finger, causing her desire to build. Her face showed the building desire as frustration. She clearly wanted me to bury a finger deeply in her wet hole, but I wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet.
My fingers were now entering her panties at the leg openings and tracing a path from front to back. She was starting to squirm a little but she was determined to at least try to be patient. I let a finger stray a little deeper and stroked the outside of one lip, causing a moan to escape her mouth. She was watching me. Slowly, her hands moved up her bare chest until each hand squeezed a breast. She was stroking her nipples, pinching them even. I could feel the wetness seeping out of her. Her body was lubricating itself for my benefit. She wanted to be penetrated so badly now that the excess lubrication was leaking out, wetting her hair and her panties.
Deciding I had made her wait long enough (and not wanting her to decide to tease me in the same way when it was my turn to be undressed), I tugged on her waistband. A satisfied smile crept across her face when she felt her panties being removed. I looked down to watch the soft cotton panel pull away from the damp hair at the apex of her legs. The panties slid down her legs but she made no effort to step out of them. She was too intent on what I was doing to her pussy. With the fingers of my left hand, I delicately pulled her lips apart. I stretched out the middle finger of my right hand and pressed it into her opening, not stopping until the rest of my hand was pressed firmly against her lips. She was so wet and so hot that it was like putting my hand into a dish of warm thick liquid. I say my hand because she was now freely oozing her lubrication, wetting the rest of my hand. She wanted me so much and it only made me feel even more in love with her. I was anxious to give her exactly what her body wanted, but I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
I slowly pulled my finger out until only the tip was still captured, then thrust it back into her. I pulled it completely out and, looking her in the eyes, put the finger in my mouth. I moaned as I tasted the warm tart juices. I sucked my finger clean, moaning again as I did so. Probably subconsciously, she moaned as well as she watched me doing that. When the finger was clean, I wet it again in her hole and rubbed it over her clit.
I pushed her a little back from the bed so I could kneel in front of her and I buried my face in her pussy, licking her from hole to clit. I made love to her pussy until I could feel her knees starting to tremble. She was losing her balance. I stood and kissed her. She was so lost in the moment that she never hesitated, eagerly pushing her tongue into my mouth in spite of what I must have tasted like to her. The realization of how turned on she was only made my dick ooze more precum into my underwear.
I pulled back and guided her until she was seated on the bed and I was standing in front of her. She wasted no time in removing my shirt. She rubbed her cheek against me, seeming to enjoy the scent of my body. I loved the silky feeling of her long curly hair rubbing against me. I had pushed her too far. She didn’t take as much time moving lower as I had. She undid my pants and roughly shoved them down. I was still trying to step out of my jeans when she was tugging on my underwear. No sooner had I kicked the pants aside than my underwear followed. I nearly fell down as I stepped out of them because Sarah was already sucking on my over stimulated cock. It happened so fast. I didn’t even have time to warn her to slow down or I’d cum. I felt the tension build; I felt the spurting start. I knew that there was no stopping it. I came in her mouth. She moaned when she felt my warm cum. I could feel her swallowing rapidly as I pumped into her mouth. Now I was getting weak kneed and she kept sucking. The pleasure climbed a seemingly vertical peak, and then suddenly reversed into pain as my dick became too sensitive to bear contact with her mouth. I tried pushing away but she held me tightly. I started to panic. I couldn’t stand it. It was intense pleasure but my brain was interpreting it as intense pain.
I screamed out and she suddenly set me free. I staggered back and bumped into the cabinet against the wall. Sarah was smiling.
“How was it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I told her, laughter in my unsteady words. “I think it was fun, but my brain is still overloaded.”
“I didn’t know if you were enjoying it or it hurt.”
“Kind of both. I think I liked it.”
She scooted back onto the bed. “When your dick is ready for more, I’m all wet for you.”
“I think it will be a little while before I can do that, but the rest of me is ready to please you,” I told her as I crawled after her. I kissed her mouth, then her earlobes, then the sides of her face below her earlobes. I felt her tense up as the pleasure built. I moved to her nipples. After playing with them for a little while, I speculated that they were ready for rougher play and started lightly biting first one, then the other. She seemed to enjoy it. I gradually increased the pressure with my teeth until she stopped me. I had found her boundary between pleasure and pain. I licked the valley between her breasts before tracing a path down to her mound. Encountering her short curly hair, I ran my tongue all around her pussy without entering her lips. I was getting stray hairs on my tongue, but I didn’t mind. I licked that spot at the tops of her legs next to her lips, that little hollow at the top of each leg. She really enjoyed that.
I could smell how wet she was. Her body had been ready to be fucked earlier and had not gotten what it needed. I could feel my dick stirring beneath me so I knew I would soon be able to follow through with the teasing I was doing. I moved up to licking the hair on the outsides of her lips. She had her hands on the back of my head and was trying to force my tongue to her slit. I finally relented and ran my tongue along the length of her slit, tasting her juices. As I slid it up and down, I gradually pressed harder and worked the tip of my tongue into her slit. I could feel her bottom moving around. She was ready – really ready now – for more. Fortunately, so was I now.
I sat up and smiled at her, aware of what I must look like. Her juices were coating my face as I had been rubbing against her pussy. She looked down. I could see it in her eyes when she saw how erect my dick was. I didn’t make Sarah wait any longer. I pressed it forward, directly into her. There was no resistance - she was that wet. I entered her, enjoying how wet her channel felt against my shaft. When I was completely inside her, I grabbed each ankle, holding her legs up and apart as I pounded into her. This was not going to be slow and romantic. We could do that later. I had already realized we weren’t going to get much sleep until morning. For now, I was giving her body the hard fucking it had been waiting for. She started crying out with each thrust, her earlier concerns about Annette hearing what we were up to now all but forgotten.
Because I had already cum in her mouth, I knew I would be able to last a long time. I would give her now what I had been denying her as I had teased her. I changed positions after each of her orgasms, which were coming faster now. She was no longer gazing lovingly or even lustfully into my eyes. Her eyes were glazed over. She was entering a zone of pleasure and I intended to keep her there.
I couldn’t see the clock so I don’t know how long I lasted, but it was a really long time. When I finally collapsed on top of Sarah and pumped my cum into her, we were both sweaty. After she caught her breath, she thanked me.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed that,” I answered.
“No, I mean, thanks for cumming. I don’t think I could have stood it much longer without passing out.”
We both laughed, at least as hard as we could in our exhausted state.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked her.
“Probably.” She paused to think for a moment. “Tomorrow afternoon, when I finally get up, don’t give me a hard time when I walk funny.”
“I won’t. I’ll just smile because I’ll be remembering why you’re walking that way.”
“I don’t want this to be the end. I just need a little time to rest, but then I want to do it again,” Sarah said.
“A little rest sounds great. I’m pretty worn out, too.”
We lay next to each other in silence, thinking. That was a mistake. Our thoughts drifted to the one thing hanging over us – my impending departure.
When Sarah finally spoke, I could hear and even feel the sadness in her voice. “After tomorrow, I …”
“Shhh, don’t. Let’s not face that just yet.” Even as I spoke those words, I knew they weren’t true. We couldn’t keep avoiding the inevitable. I tried really hard to come up with something profound, something that would cheer her up. Something that would cheer us both up. I didn’t want our memories of this wonderful time to be clouded by spending the last day in tears. In the end, I couldn’t come up with anything better.
“Sarah, we both know what’s coming. We can’t change that. What happens after I go home, well, we don’t know what will come. We’ll deal with that. Let’s make some good memories now so we can look back on them… after.” I didn’t add what I was thinking, hopefully together.
“Long distance relationships are so hard to keep going.”
“We’ll deal with that. We’re together right now. Let’s enjoy it while we can.” It probably sounded even lamer than that, but that was the best I could do. I think Sarah realized it, too.
“OK,” she said with a difficult smile, “do that to me again so I’ll never forget it.”
“I’m not sure I could do it again like that. I’ll be walking funny.”
“So we’ll be walking funny together.” She rolled over and kissed me. Feeling her so close to me got me going again. I wish I could say we spent the entire night fucking until dawn, but that wouldn’t have been possible. We did manage a few more times. In between, we took a few naps. We used the alarm on my watch to wake us up every few hours to go again. By morning, we fell asleep for good as the sun was starting to peek through the curtains. Sarah woke me up about an hour or so before lunch.
“Annette will be here soon. Let’s do it one more time, then we can clean up this mess and jump in the shower so we can look presentable when she gets here.” I groaned in response. “Come on, old man. You must have one more orgasm in you.”
As she said that, Sarah was caressing my dick. I might have been tired and sore, but part of my body could still respond to her touch. “OK, just lie there and I’ll ride you.”
We both laughed, but that is exactly what she did. It was slow and loving. I caressed her face as she bobbed up and down over me. I knew I’d remember the image of her nude body riding me for a very long time. By the time Annette arrived for lunch, the sheets had been changed and washed. We were dressed and ready to go to Paris.
That afternoon, we did more of the things we did the day before. It was my last full day day in Paris and I wanted it to be the best. It was the best because I spent it with Sarah. I knew I might never be that happy again so I wasn’t about to let depression overshadow it. As we rode the commuter train home, I couldn’t help thinking that the next time I rode that train would be a one way trip.
After I packed, we spent our last night together holding each other, naked in bed. We made love, but it was slow and tender. Instead of wearing ourselves out, the slower pace let us go well into the night. We finally got a little sleep before it was time for me to leave.
I insisted that Sarah keep the yellow lambswool sweater. I told her that it had never looked as good as it did on her. That was the truth. She cried, but she kept it. We had decided that she would take the train with me into Paris so she could see me off at the train station. It would give us a few more hours together. After I left, she’d come back on her own. I was worried about her being alone in the city but she assured me she would be alright. After breakfast, Annette dropped us off at the train station. Sarah was helping me carry all my bags. I couldn’t help thinking how I’d have to manage by myself all too soon.
She held on to me tightly riding the train into Paris. When we arrived, I bought my ticket for the Dieppe Maritime. I had arrived in London and spent a short time there and in Paris with the school group at the beginning of my trip, so I’d have to fly back home from London. With my ticket in hand, I took her to a café in the train station to wait.
I had become fond of Orangina while I was in Europe. I sipped one while waiting. It was one more thing from Europe I’d probably never see again. Orangina and Sarah.
For her part, Sarah was very brave. She stayed, while not happy, at least pleasant. That lasted until about five minutes before my train left. There was an enormous black sign hanging from the ceiling. It listed all the departures and arrivals. It worked by flipping letters, like the ones in the airports before the era of the digital signs. The sign changed. It made a loud flapping noise because a lot of entries were changing. When it stopped moving, we both saw the entry at the same time - “Dieppe Maritime”. Sarah’s grip on my hand suddenly tightened, almost to the point of being painful. When she spoke my name, I didn’t need to look at her to see the tears streaming down her cheeks. I could hear the tears in her quavering voice. I stood.
“It’s time to go.” My voice was even, emotionless, foreign sounding even to me. I felt like I was walking to my own execution.
We stopped on the platform and I put my bags on the train. Standing on the platform, I looked at my beautiful Sarah, her lovely face now distorted with grief. I wanted to say something, anything profound. I wanted to say something that she could hold in her heart, which we could both remember. Maybe for the rest of our lives. I held her body to mine and thought. Then it came to me. Casablanca.
I cleared my throat and tried to swallow the lump growing there. “Rick and Ilsa always had Paris,” I began, realizing that scene had taken place in a Paris train station, maybe this one. I took a deep breath. “Now, we will too.” She watched me as I spoke. She thought about what I had said. There was a whistle. The final boarding call for my train. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. I held her one last time. Then, I pulled away and boarded the train. Leaving my bags for a minute, I ran into the first compartment and sat at the window. I waved to Sarah as the train started to pull away. She ran, following the train, until she reached the end of the platform. We watched each other as the train pulled out of the station, Sarah’s image getting smaller and smaller on the end of the platform. Then the train exited the station and went around a bend. Sarah was gone from view.
I retrieved my bags and sat down. I sobbed all the way to the coast, thinking of Sarah. When it was time to get on the ferry, I was in a little better mood. That night in London at the Goldsmid house, all alone, was the longest of my life. I lay on the bed in the dark and stared at the ceiling. I thought of Sarah, of our time together. When morning finally came, I caught my flight home.
We tried to stay in touch, but the reality of the distance between us was just too much. We knew we had to date other people. In time, we lost touch. Years later, after college, I looked her up and visited her. When she saw me, she accused me of just wanting to get my sweater back. Her accusation was without heat, though, and we laughed. That sweater still looked better on her than it ever did on me.
I was jolted out of my daydreaming when our cat rubbed against my leg. I reached down and stroked her back, making her purr. Mignon wasn’t solid black like her namesake. She was black and white, but it was close enough. Still carrying the card, I walked into the living room where my wife was sitting on the sofa. I plopped down next to her and watched the crackling fire.
She slowly turned to face me. “You were thinking about her, weren’t you?” There was a faint trace of a smile on her face.
“Yes,” I said. I turned to see that she was also holding a Christmas card. I chuckled. “After all these years, she still sends each of us a card. She knows we’re married.”
“Yes, but she still writes a personal message to each of us. She wants us to know how much we each mean to her.”
“How old do you think she is now?”
“At least eighty.”
I focused my eyes on my wife. “You’re wearing that sweater.”
She smiled shyly. “It was cold in here.” My gaze held her eyes. She knew I wasn’t buying it, so she continued, “…And, I thought the cards might be coming today.”
‘That sweater still looks better on you than it ever did on me, Sarah.”
She leaned over, touched my cheek with her hand, and kissed me, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
Our daughter entered the room, stopping abruptly when she saw what we were doing.
“There you two go again. Get a room, will you?”
We interrupted the kiss. She saw the cards in our hands. “Oh, yeah. The cards again.”
“If it weren’t for her,” Sarah said, “you might never have been born.”
“I know, I know. You’ve told me a hundred times.” Then her expression softened. A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll be in my room, listening to music,” she said as she turned to head up the stairs. Without looking back, she added over her shoulder, “with my headphones on,” in a singsong tone.
Sarah turned back to me and smiled. She raised her eyebrows as she started to whistle the opening bar of La Marseillaise. I nodded and we both stood up. As I followed her up the stairs to our bedroom, I admired her butt. It was still just as cute. And it was summer in France all over again. And it was sunny.
This story is Copyright © 2005 by Strickland83. All rights reserved.
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