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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
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One Morning in Paris
by Dreamgiver (hughmacg23@hotmail.com)

***

A girl, a boy, a hotel room. Discovery of joy. (mf-
teens, inc, oral, rom)

***

I'm still not quite sure why you plucked my virginity 
that sunlit morning in a hotel room overlooking Sacrι 
Coeur. I still don't know exactly what mixture of 
desire, rebellion, tenderness and curiosity was rushing 
through your mind. But I'm not complaining. The sight 
of you standing in a doorway, a white towel nowhere 
near hiding your tiny breasts – and then the sight of 
the towel dropping to the carpet, leaving you as naked 
as the day you were born, 14 years and ten months ago – 
these are images I'll never forget.

Until a few months ago, I didn't think you noticed me 
very often. I was just your nerdy kid brother with the 
glasses and the bad taste in clothes. Then I got 
contact lenses and stopped wearing check shirts. I also 
grew a couple of inches and found I had some pubic 
hair. 

All of a sudden I was nearly as tall as you. I grew my 
hair over my forehead so that Kenny, our little 
brother, said it made me look like a girl – but I 
thought it looked cool. "Dan, it's weird," Mother said 
to me one day just before we left for Europe, "you and 
Claire look almost like twins. Twin colts or gazelles." 
It felt kind of weird that Mother was comparing us to 
an animal, but I think she meant it as a compliment.

Going to Europe was her idea. She wanted to do 
something happy with her three kids the year after her 
husband – our father – had died of cancer. And she 
thought that by the time you'd turned 15, you might 
want to get a summer job instead of going on a family 
holiday. So, without even asking us, she arranged to 
spend a week in England and another week in France. 
That meant a bunch of hotel rooms where I was stuck 
with a Ninja-loving nine-year-old.

Even before we got on the plane, we'd started to grow a 
lot closer. One afternoon I came home from school and 
found you crying, and without saying a word I picked a 
flower from the garden and took it up to your bedroom 
along with a mug of hot chocolate. You were all ready 
to shout at me, but instead you threw your arms around 
me and kissed my face. I loved the feel of your mouth 
on my cheek. Another time you tried on the green and 
yellow bikini you'd just bought. Kenny said it made you 
look stupid. I said you looked sensational. You blushed 
and ran upstairs to your room.

The day I turned 13 was the day we flew to London. I'd 
had an advance birthday party with a few guys. We went 
bowling, and then to the movies. "Is Jenny going?" you 
asked. "Nah, of course not," I said. "But I've seen you 
walking home with her," you said, raising an eyebrow. 
"I thought maybe …" "Maybe next year," I said with a 
grin. Jenny is an 11-year-old blonde who lives on the 
next street and has a major crush on me, but except for 
a few quick feels of her surprising breasts, I'd never 
done anything about it. Yet. "OK," you said, grinning 
back at me. "Lucky her." That evening when I was at the 
movies, you sent me a text message: i luv u. u2, I 
texted back. 

I was hoping we'd have time to hang out together in 
England, especially after you held my hand during the 
long plane ride from Toronto, but instead I got stuck 
with Kenny and our little boy cousins. One day we all 
went to the beach, and you met a couple of British 
guys. Your bikini was more revealing than what most of 
the local girls were wearing. One of the guys got a 
hard-on just talking to you. He was a redhead with 
black trunks that started sticking way out in front of 
him. To be honest, I got a hard-on too. But the 
freezing water of the English Channel soon took care of 
that.

At dinner that evening, Mother started talking about 
"inappropriate behaviour." "Hey," I said to her, "leave 
Claire alone. She can look after herself. She's 14, not 
a little kid." Mother started to argue, but then she 
bit her tongue. When I went off to the bedroom I was 
sharing with Kenny, you blew a kiss after me and 
wiggled your tongue in front of your lips. I jerked off 
that night with your image so clear in my head, it was 
as if you were beside me, watching me pump my cock. 
Kenny half-woke up in the other bed and asked why I was 
making so much noise. "I'm dreaming about this gorgeous 
chick," I said. "She's got short black hair and a tight 
little ass and these amazing red lips and –" "Aw, shut 
up," he said. "You pervert."

A few days later we were going round a museum in Paris 
along with 20,000 other tourists when you stopped 
before a painting of a naked boy. He'd been shot full 
of arrows and he had a kind of dazed expression. Only a 
fragment of loincloth covered his cock. "He's called 
St. Sebastian," I said, peering at the label. "He looks 
just like you," you replied. 

An overweight American woman shot us a dirty look. The 
next room had a picture of Venus stretched out on a bed 
with a little boy beside her. "That's you," I said, 
"plus Kenny." You burst out laughing so hard that 
Mother got mad again. When we were heading back to the 
hotel on a Mιtro train, you turned to me and said, "Do 
you think Venus ever got together with St. Sebastian?" 
"Depends if she pulled the arrows out," I said.

The truth is, you don't look much like Venus in the 
painting. I was just trying to flatter you. Venus has 
these big round breasts, and long blonde hair flowing 
over her shoulders; Jenny might look like her in a 
couple of years. Your hair is about the same length as 
mine, and you're so slim that when I'm walking behind 
you, I could easily mistake you for a guy. But your 
legs are long and gorgeous, not like those fat thighs 
of Venus. 

That night you asked me – as if the opinion of a just-
turned-13-year-old boy actually mattered – whether guys 
would ever find you hot. "Of course they would," I 
said. "They do already." "But I'm so flat," you said in 
a low voice. "So is Keira Knightley, and lots of guys 
find her incredibly hot." "Maybe," you replied, still 
full of doubt. "Hey," I added, "didn't that guy Stuart 
think you were hot last winter?"

I was never clear what you saw in Stuart, who was 
shorter than me and had serious acne problems, but I 
knew he was crazy about you. Probably that was the main 
attraction. You let him think you loved him for a 
month. "It's not Stuart I'm worrying about," she said. 
"It's you." I was still coming to terms with that 
remark when Mother asked suspiciously what we were 
muttering about. 

"Keira Knightley," I said. After a split second I 
added, "She's my favourite actress, did you know?" "I 
don't see why," Mother said. "Well," I said, "she's 
totally gorgeous to look at." "Hey," said Kenny, "why 
is Claire going all red?"

The next morning, Mother reluctantly took Kenny off to 
Euro Disney. You and I refused to go along. She was 
worried that we'd get lost in Paris without her, but 
you assured her we'd stick together. You were so right.

Kenny was downstairs trying to find something to eat in 
the breakfast room before I was even awake. I emerged 
from a dream of you running into the ocean naked long 
enough to say goodbye to him and Mother, and to insist 
I wouldn't get into trouble in Montmartre, but then I 
put my head down on the pillow and somehow I must have 
drifted back to sleep when I heard this urgent knock on 
the door.

"Dan!" your voice was saying. "Dan! Let me in!" 

I was wearing nothing more than a pair of crimson 
briefs, so I hesitated for a second.

"Look," your voice said, "I'm not dressed for public 
view, OK?"

I rolled out of bed and unlocked the door. There you 
were in that green and yellow bikini, holding nothing 
except your room key, looking anxious. "What the –" I 
began. "Thank God," you interrupted, pushing past me 
and making sure the door was locked again. "This creepy 
guy was ogling me, he must have been at least 30."

"How come you're only wearing your swimsuit?" I asked. 
We were standing alone together in a fairly small room.

"It's a surprise. I have a surprise for you. Kind of a 
delayed birthday present. Why don't you go take a 
shower? I'll be out on the balcony."

I obeyed, feeling kind of numb. Baffled, happy, sleepy, 
numb, and unaccountably nervous. Just as I closed the 
door of the little bathroom I heard you call after me, 
"Don't you dare masturbate, OK?"

So I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, emptied my 
bladder, and came out into the room wrapped up in a 
white hotel towel. I assumed you were on the balcony, 
so I let the towel fall. My cock was semi-erect. I 
walked a few steps toward the closet, intending to 
rummage around for some clothes. "Don't even bother," 
your voice said just in front of me.

I must have jumped six inches. I hadn't even noticed 
the closet door was half open. That's what can happen 
when I don't put in my contact lenses. Instinctively I 
covered up my shrinking cock with my hands. You giggled 
and said, "Going all shy, are we?" Then you opened the 
door, took two steps and planted a big sloppy kiss, not 
on my cheek this time, but on my lips. "I need a shower 
too," you said, your brown eyes shining, and before I 
could say a word you vanished into the bathroom calling 
out "Don't go anywhere without me!"

I stood there gaping. Language seemed to have abandoned 
me. Inside my slender body I could feel my heart 
pounding. I heard water running in the bathroom, but my 
mouth seemed to have gone all dry. Outside the window, 
above the chimneyed rooftops, Sacrι Coeur glistened in 
the sun. I didn't know what to do. Finally I pulled on 
a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

The water stopped. Time stopped. At last the bathroom 
door opened and there you were, bare-chested, droplets 
of water still shining on your skin. The tan line on 
your little breasts made me realize just how skimpy the 
bikini really was. "Hey," you said in a disappointed 
voice, "you got dressed. Don't you want – ?"

Then you let the towel drop and for the first time in 
my life, I was looking at a totally naked girl. Except 
it felt like I was looking at myself, slightly older, 
slightly taller, and with some incredible mystery 
instead of a cock below your black tuft of pubic hair. 
Time had stopped again.

"You're so beautiful," I said softly. It was a pretty 
lame remark but it broke the tension. As you walked 
over to me I could smell the fragrance on your damp 
body. "Claire," I began to say. But you didn't utter a 
word. You just lifted the T-shirt over my head, 
unzipped my jeans and pulled them down to my feet. Then 
you knelt on the floral carpet and took my cock in your 
mouth.

Did I draw my breath in sharply or did I groan in 
shock? The sensation was unbelievable: your mouth like 
a hot animal, your wet voracious tongue, and the cool 
freshness of your hands against my skin. A few drops of 
water fell from your hair and landed on my thigh. My 
knees buckled. Could I stay upright even as your mouth 
pulled my cock deeper inside you? Yeah, somehow I 
could. What in the world was your tongue doing? The 
world was turning upside down.

"Oh," I said, "Ohhhh, ohhhh–" Then I gave a high sort 
of squeal and poured my semen down your throat as your 
mouth milked my boy-flesh like you never wanted to let 
go.

"Happy birthday, Dan," you said from somewhere far 
away. No, somewhere very close. "You're a big boy now. 
Sorry I couldn't do this on the day itself."

I opened my eyes and you were standing there smiling at 
me, a twirl of semen still visible at one corner of 
your mouth. I kicked my jeans away from my ankles and 
threw my arms around you. When I kissed you, I kissed 
the taste of myself. I didn't know exactly what to do 
with my tongue, but you showed me. You showed me. Then 
your mouth was all over my neck and chest and you were 
nibbling on my nipples.

Somehow we were lying down on an unmade single bed and 
we were talking – where the words came from, and who 
began to speak, I can't remember. We both kept saying 
"I love you" and "I want you" and "I slurp slurp slurp 
you." 

It was like walking through a mirror into a new 
universe where everything familiar was still there, but 
a whole new dimension had been added. I felt you 
squeezing my ass, and my cock gave a little jump. That 
made you giggle. You squeezed again. And soon we were 
both laughing so hard that the only way for me to stop 
was to slide down the bed and stick my tongue into your 
cunt.

"Oh my god," I heard you say. "Ahhh –" I felt like a 
baby animal trying to find my way around a dark forest, 
so much more luxuriant than my own. And sometimes 
getting lost – "No, there!" I heard you say as you 
pulled my face back to where you wanted me. Such a 
sweet morsel of flesh, such a tiny girlish cocklet, and 
such an amazing effect it was having on you – I licked, 
and lapped, and sucked, and licked some more, and 
meantime you were thrashing around and squealing so 
loudly I was afraid the hotel management would start 
pounding on the door. But before they came you did, 
with a long drawn-out cry and a series of incredible 
quivers. And suddenly you were pushing me away, saying 
"Too much! Stop!" and laughing all at once. 

"How did you learn to do that?" you asked, after 
kissing me so hard I felt my lips must be bruised from 
your gratitude. "I don't know," I said, "I just tried 
to do for you what you did for me. How did you learn to 
suck cock so well?"

Your face, already a little red, went a little redder. 
"Well, when me and Stuart were going out …"

"So did he, um, like to eat you out?"

"No, the little jerk. All he wanted was blow jobs from 
me."

"Hey," I said. "I'll give you anything you ask for. Any 
time." It was a foolish boast but I meant it with all 
my heart. We were lying on the bed intertwined – 
sticking together, as Mother would say – and I could 
feel my hard-on throbbing. For a second I had the 
illusion that we were twins sharing the same bodies, 
the same body.

"OK," you said after a minute, sitting up so that your 
breasts were above my head. There was a hard little 
strawberry at the centre of each tiny bump. I started 
to feed on one of those strawberries, but after a few 
seconds you said, "Dan, wait, I know what I want."

"Don't you want this?" I said.

"No. Yes. But Dan, I want to be fucked. I want you to 
fuck me. Now."

There was a look of absolute seriousness on your face.

"Are you willing?" you asked. "You don't have to. We 
can just stop now and go see Paris. If you want."

Were you crazy? Until that morning, no-one but myself 
had ever so much as touched my cock. Now you were 
offering me heaven.    

"I'm not very big," I said. "And I've never –"

"I know how big you are, you idiot. It's fine. It's 
probably better, because I've never done it either."

"You mean Stuart –"

"He wanted to, but I said no. I never loved him, I just 
liked sucking his cock. I want you to be my first 
lover. I want you to be my first man. Are you willing? 
Oh my."

You were looking down at my cock, which had started to 
bounce off my belly, above my wispy pubic hair.

"So how do we do this?" I said. You giggled as I sat up 
beside you, and I said: "Why are you laughing, anyway?"

"Your voice," you replied. "It's gone so high, you 
sound just like a little boy."

I took one of your hands and put it on my cock. "Does 
that feel like a little boy?" I said. It was true, I 
sounded almost like Kenny. .

"No," you said. "No, it feels –" But before you could 
say anything else, I kissed your mouth long and hard. 
If you wanted me to act like a man, I'd just have to 
keep quiet and let my body talk.

Which it did. After a couple of minutes I lay down 
again on the chaotic sheets, with my cock pointing up 
to the ceiling. You straddled me, one long bare leg on 
each side, and lifted yourself high. Then, slowly, you 
eased yourself down. I felt this unbelievable mixture 
of wetness, softness and tightness envelop the tip of 
my cock, then the whole head of it. Then you stopped.

"Dan, it hurts," you said. "I'm scared."

Somehow I knew what to say – and, much more important, 
what to do. "It'll stop hurting soon, I promise," I 
said, as I pushed gently up against the resistance 
inside you. "Relax," I said as I heard you gasp, and I 
pushed again. And you looked down at me with wet brown 
eyes and a nervous smile on your face, and I pushed one 
more time. 

You sucked in your breath like you were drowning, and 
now you weren't smiling at all. I pushed again, harder, 
and then you cried out, a wild cry that would have 
filled me with fear except you were my sister, my 
gorgeous other self, and I knew we could trust each 
other with our lives. 

And now when I pushed there was no resistance, only the 
tight wet glove of your cunt sliding over me as I moved 
deeper up inside you that I'd imagined possible, 
calling out in delight at the incredible pleasure, 
looking up at your moist face and your slim body and 
your strawberry nipples as suddenly you lowered 
yourself down – how was this possible? – and smothered 
my face with kisses. 

Now your body was answering mine. Or else we truly were 
a single body. The pressure grew inside me and my 
fucking grew even faster and we were both lost in joy, 
coming and coming until I couldn't fuck any longer and 
I realized I could hardly breathe, because you were 
lying on top of me, crying and laughing all at once, a 
slim nude Venus who had just plucked every arrow out of 
her chosen boy. Or just a naked 14-year-old, no longer 
virgin girl, half-smothering her younger lover. 

I licked your face. You licked mine. Somehow my cock 
had slithered out of you. "Some people would say we 
shouldn't have done that," I said eventually. 

"I don't believe in should," you said. "I believe in 
fun."

"Euro Disney could have been fun," I teased.

"Yeah, especially if I'd screwed Mickey Mouse in front 
of a couple of French boys. Or screwed a couple of 
French boys in front of Mickey Mouse."

"And what would I have done?" I said.

"You could have fucked the little mermaid," you said 
with a wicked smile. "She might have been kind of 
fishy, though."

"She's not as gorgeous as you," I said. "Yes, yes, 
yes..." You were running my tongue across my chest from 
nipple to nipple, pausing briefly to suck at each one.

Somewhere outside our hotel in Paris, a police siren 
sounded. Eventually we got up and took a shower to wash 
away all the saliva and tears and semen and blood and 
sweat. When our bodies were totally clean again, I 
found my cock was standing to attention. You licked 
your lips with your tongue, waggled your hips at me, 
and said in your best little-girl voice, "So, what are 
you waiting for?"

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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