ATasteofParis

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by Lucy Felthouse


  By the time she reached him, he’d screwed the lid tightly onto the bottle of drink and put it back in his bag then stood. “Sorry,” he said, looking as contrite as possible, “I was really thirsty and I wasn’t near any of the artifacts.”

  Blanche pursed her lips then retorted, “It doesn’t matter. Rules are rules. Now come with me, please.”

  With that, she turned and marched toward a doorway on his left. Opening the door, she held it open, waiting for him to go in ahead of her. She heaved an impatient sigh and tapped her foot.

  Ryan stifled a chuckle—she was melodrama all over, this woman. She’d disappeared from her seat on the train as if she’d never been there, and it had probably just been to make an impression. He purposely took his time in doing what she said, particularly as he wasn’t looking forward to the bollocking he was going to get when the door was closed behind them.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Her anger made her accent even stronger, but it certainly didn’t dampen her grasp on swear words.

  “What do you mean?” Ryan replied. Why the hell did she think he was here? To go skydiving?

  “Did you follow me? From Gare du Nord?”

  “What? No! You moved seats while we were still on the train, so I figured that was that. When I arrived at Gare du Nord, I went and dropped my bags off at the hostel then came here. But I always planned to come here when I got to Paris, even before we met. And how on earth could I have known you worked here? All I knew was your first name. If you even gave me your real name.”

  The flash of Blanche’s dark eyes faded, as did the red spots high on her otherwise pale cheeks. She heaved out a breath and her lips curled into a tiny smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got it wrong. I thought you’d followed me. That you were some kind of…what’s the word? Stalker. And Blanche is my real name.”

  “No, I didn’t follow you,” Ryan replied, returning her smile. “I’m an art lover and The Louvre is my favorite museum. Even more so now that I know you work here.” He winked. “Seriously, though, I didn’t follow you. It’s just coincidence, okay?”

  Only now, when things had calmed down, did he get chance to have a proper look around. They were in a room of indeterminate use. It was too small for a staff room, plus it didn’t have any facilities. All it contained was a table, two chairs and a filing cabinet. It was almost like a small office, but without the computer, notebooks, pens and so on.

  She nodded. “I hope you will forgive me. I don’t wish to…ruin the fun we had earlier, even though I am now back to my normal, boring life after a short work trip to London.”

  “Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

  “I’d like to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

  The look on her face was so sweet and innocent that Ryan thought she meant she’d buy him a coffee or something. But after a couple of seconds, she gave him the filthiest grin he’d ever seen and his eyebrows almost shot into his hairline. “Do you mean what I think you mean?”

  “It depends,” she said, stepping toward him, grabbing his belt and pulling him close. “What do you think I mean?”

  He didn’t answer, instead leaning down and slanting his lips over hers. He remembered how she’d tasted of champagne earlier and wondered how much of a risk she’d taken by drinking alcohol when she was due at work later that day, even though she’d claimed she’d only had one glass. Perhaps she’d sucked a mint or two before getting here. Now, though, he could only taste the strawberry gloss she wore. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer still, his burgeoning erection pressing against her.

  He was thankful that he’d taken the time to replace the condom in his wallet again. It had killed a few seconds while he was on the train and had needed a break from reading. He’d grinned to himself, thinking there was no way in hell that anything else sexual would happen to him that day, but that if he did it while he remembered, he’d be prepared for any eventuality. It was the Boy Scout in him. And now he was very grateful for that instinct.

  Their kiss became more heated, coupled with wandering hands, hasty pulls of air through their nostrils and the occasional murmured expletive. Then Blanche reached down and undid his belt and jeans and slipped her hand inside his boxers. She hummed deep in her throat as she wrapped her tiny hand around his hot, eager shaft. It leaped in her fingers. She began to stroke it up and down and Ryan didn’t stop her. He’d only come a few hours ago, so he’d have no problem with stamina this time.

  He decided to have a little fun with her too. Reaching under her skirt, he yanked her underwear to one side and stroked her labia before slipping his fingers between them and running them up and down her slit. She was wet and the more he touched her soft skin, the wetter she became. Finding the area just next to her clit that she’d responded so well to earlier, he pressed and rubbed

  Blanche snapped her head back and let out a yowl. Quickly he moved his other hand from her back and placed it over her mouth. “Shhh! Remember where we are. You could get into much more trouble for this than I can, remember?”

  She nodded and he removed his hand. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she bit down on it, making the area of skin around her teeth grow paler with the pressure. It was clear she was struggling to keep quiet, so Ryan pleasured her all the more as it had really turned him on to know how much he was turning her on. The sound she’d made had been like a shot of arousal to his groin, and his cock thickened in her hand.

  As he continued to manipulate her pussy and clit, he watched and listened carefully for signs of her oncoming orgasm. When he thought she was getting close, he clapped his hand over her mouth once more and increased the speed of his ministrations. A minute or so later he was helping to muffle her climactic cries as the fingers of his other hand were being covered in her cum.

  He loved watching Blanche orgasm. He hadn’t been able to see her face before, but this time he observed happily as her eyes rolled back in her head, her face grew pink and she bucked and writhed in front of him.

  Eventually her orgasm waned and she settled down, twisting her head so she could speak. “Wh—whoa. That was tres bon.”

  He took her lapsing into her native language as a good sign. “Now, do you have another condom?”

  He couldn’t help the smug smile that overtook his lips. “Luckily I do.”

  She took a step back to allow him to get said protection then perched on the edge of the table. Ryan couldn’t help but be reminded of Rose, the outrageous yet totally gorgeous Catholic girl he’d fucked on a table in the basement of a pub in London. He shook his head to rid himself of those pleasant thoughts and concentrate on the equally attractive woman who was here and now. In the midst of their passion he’d forgotten the bag he was wearing. But now he retrieved the condom, put his wallet away then pulled the strap over his head and put it on the floor where he wouldn’t forget it when he left. There didn’t appear to be any kind of wastebasket in the room, so he stuffed the foil wrapper in his pocket, struggling to undo his jeans with one hand. Eventually his cock was free and he quickly rolled on the protection before leaning down to give Blanche another kiss.

  The ferocity with which she kissed him back spoke volumes. As their tongues tangled and their lips and teeth clashed, Ryan pushed her back onto the table, pulled her skirt up around her waist, yanked her knickers down as far as they would go and entered her. She was just as tight and hot as she’d been earlier, and they groaned into each other’s mouths as his shaft pushed farther inside her, stretching her walls until his balls pressed against her pussy lips.

  Ryan rocked slowly in and out of her at first, until she loosened up a little. But it seemed Blanche didn’t have much patience for his unhurried pace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lay back on the table, pulling him with her even as she shuffled farther onto its surface. He could only imagine the twin thuds were her shoes being kicked off, and he realized he was right as he felt her raising her legs on either side of him, her kn
ees at his hips and her feet flat on the table. Now she could thrust too and that was exactly what she did.

  She bucked like a woman possessed, her lips pressed tightly together, probably in a combination of concentration and the effort to keep quiet. Her movements were so erratic that it took Ryan a while to get into a rhythm, but once he did, their fucking became faster and more frantic, to the extent that he half wondered if he’d end up with friction burns on his cock.

  Suddenly Blanche reached down and shoved a hand between their bodies. He felt her knuckles bashing against his pubic mound with every meeting of their skin as she stroked her clit. She was clearly hitting the spot, as she slowed her thrusts and her arm jerked faster and faster. After a few more seconds, he felt her internal muscles tighten around his shaft. At the same time, Blanche pressed her free hand over her mouth, and her eyes rolled back in her head once more as she gave herself over to orgasm.

  The sight of her jiggling tits and the spasming of her pussy around him was enough to send him over the edge too. A couple more thrusts and he let out a hiss—a sign of his restraint, as he really wanted to roar—as he spurted into the latex sheath, his entire body feeling as if it were on fire. In a good way.

  He slumped over Blanche’s limp form, still holding his weight on his arms. Pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, he paused for a few seconds before rolling off her and wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the used condom.

  Luckily Blanche solved that problem. Giving a satisfied sigh, she sat up slowly and gave him a lazy smile before speaking.

  “There is a box of tissues in the top drawer of the filing cabinet. Wrap it up and leave it on the table. I’ll get rid of it.”

  He nodded and did as she said then pulled his boxers and jeans back up before doing up his fly and belt. He watched as Blanche sorted herself out too, finally slipping her feet back into her discarded shoes. She wasn’t making any kind of eye contact or an attempt at conversation, so he took that as a sign she wanted him to leave. He could understand it—any minute now one of her colleagues could come looking for her.

  “See you around,” he said, attempting to tidy his post-sex hairstyle for the second time that day.

  “Paris is a big city,” she replied, straightening her skirt. “Unless you’re planning on coming back here, I doubt it.”

  Her tone was matter-of-fact and Ryan shrugged.

  “Well, then. Maybe I’ll see you the next time I’m in Paris.”

  Blanche waved her fingers at him as he picked up his bag and turned to leave. He was a little surprised she hadn’t spoken, but, as he’d decided when she’d disappeared on the train, that suited him just fine.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan walked up the street toward the hostel, wondering if Kristian had made it. He’d been so distracted about going to explore The Louvre that he’d replied to Kristian’s text message earlier without considering how his friend would find the Parisian Metro system. It was very similar to the London Underground, but Kristian didn’t have much experience of that either. Bugger.

  He chastised himself. Kristian was inexperienced, not stupid. There were enough signs in the underground stations. But then he realized something else—he hadn’t even told his friend the address of the hostel, the nearest Metro station or anything. Bollocks! He checked his phone and found nothing—surely if Kristian had struggled, he’d have sent him a text message or phoned him?

  As he reached the front of the hostel, noting again how the funky exterior architecture had clearly been designed to appeal to people of his age, he saw his friend and heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Kris!” he said, drawing closer and clapping him on the shoulder. “You made it!”

  Kristian gave a wry grin. “Yeah, no thanks to you! It wasn’t until I got to Paris that it occurred to me I didn’t have a fucking clue where I was going.”

  “Why didn’t you phone me, then?”

  “I did. But I kept getting a message saying you weren’t available. Did you have your phone off or something?”

  “No, it was on silent while I was in The Louvre though. Maybe my signal went or something? That place has some pretty thick walls.”

  Kristian shrugged. “Don’t worry, mate, I’m here now. I was all touristy and I went and bought a map and then found the address of this place on my phone.”

  “Come on,” Ryan said, heading for the bar that adjoined the hostel, “let me buy you a drink by way of apology and you can tell me how your dad is.”

  Several minutes later, they were seated at a table and catching up—considering they’d been apart for such a short space of time, they had a lot to talk about. Dave, Kristian’s dad, was absolutely fine—well, fine considering he’d had a minor heart attack, which was why Kristian hadn’t come to Paris from London with Ryan as originally planned. They’d gotten Dave to hospital quickly and he was out of danger. He’d been happy to see his son, but insisted that he continued his trip.

  “He said there was nothing I could do if I stayed at home, so I should get the next Eurostar out to meet you. I wasn’t keen on leaving him so soon, but he insisted. So I did.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did. And I’m really glad he’s all right too. You didn’t miss much. Only me getting with three women, two of them twice!”

  “Fuck off!” Kristian said, mock punching his friend on the arm. “So what did you do really?”

  Ryan glared.

  “What? Are you fucking serious?”

  Ryan nodded.

  “Bloody hell. Tell me everything.”

  By the time Ryan had finished relating what had happened, Kristian was dumbfounded. He drained his pint then put his glass down. “God, I knew you were a chick magnet, but that really takes the cake. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be lucky if those condoms last you until Rome, never mind until we go home again. I’d better buy a box of my own rather than relying on pinching a couple of yours. It looks as though you’re going to need every single one.”

  “Don’t worry, Kris, we’ll find a chemist at some point and you can stock up. It’s your round.” He gestured to his empty glass.

  “Same again, yeah? Shall we grab something to eat while we’re here? Are we staying here all evening or heading out somewhere else?”

  “Well, we need to get you set up with some rubbers, don’t we? So let’s eat then go out.”

  A burger and a pint each later and the men left the bar. “So,” Kristian said, “where to?”

  “Oh, just you wait. I have a very fun evening in store for you.”

  A little later, Ryan couldn’t help but smirk as they climbed the steps out of Blanche Metro station. Thanks to his little…whatever it had been with Blanche, that name would always have grin-worthy connotations for him. His smile widened as he watched his friend’s expression turn incredulous as he looked around him.

  “God, what is this, the Red Light District or something?”

  “It’s Paris’ version, I believe. This area is packed full of sex shops, strip clubs and, luckily for you, chemists. The Moulin Rouge is just up there too.”

  “Cool. So what are we doing here? Going to a strip club?”

  “Maybe later. I have something else in mind first.”

  With that, Ryan walked to the zebra crossing and waited to make absolutely sure the cars were stopping before he crossed. Parisian motorists were notorious for being insane. He looked to make sure Kristian was with him and when they got to the pavement, he turned right. He could see the sign advertising their destination and he nudged his friend and pointed.

  “What? Oh, there. We’re going to the…Musée de l’érotisme?” He paused. “The erotic museum? God, what’s in there? Naked women on pedestals?”

  “Just wait and see. It’s a good laugh.”

  They’d been in there for less than ten minutes and already Kristian had agreed with Ryan’s comment. One of the first things they’d seen was an enormous marble phallus, and the place certainly started as it meant to go on. They poin
ted and sniggered their way through paintings, sculptures, models, crockery, wooden carvings and more, all featuring something sublimely smutty. Penises, vaginas—often in the act of penetration—breasts, dildos…the list went on. Through seven floors, to be exact. There was even a porno film playing on a TV on one of the floors.

  “Actually,” Kristian said as they entered an area full of paintings, “some of these are very beautiful. You know me, I’m no art buff, most of this stuff just makes me laugh. But I could actually imagine having one of these on a wall in my house. Not right now, obviously. I don’t think Mum would go for it. But when I have my own place, I’d totally have nudie paintings. It’d have to go in the bedroom though—I can’t think of anything more awkward than sitting in a living room with your family and friends with a painting of a shagging couple over the fireplace, can you?”

  “I know what you mean, mate. But all of it is really good in terms of the skill required to make it—even the funny stuff. I bet some people pass this place by because they think it’s just pure filth—which I suppose it is, in a way—but actually, for people who enjoy art, this is a fantastic museum.”

  Kristian nodded. “Definitely. And that’s coming from me—a guy who got his dad to fake having a heart attack so he could go home and not have to go to The Louvre!”

  Ryan elbowed his friend “There’s time yet—I’d be happy to go back.”

  Kristian pulled a face. “I’ll skip it, thanks. It’s my first time in Paris—there’s lots I want to see. And yet, where’s the first place you bring me? An erotic museum. What a great friend you really are.”

  Ryan gave a fake scowl. “I know. I’m just the best friend a guy could ever want. Seriously though, mate, I’m just trying to make the most of our time here. I knew this place was open late and there’s not much else we could have done at this time of night, is there? We can hit all the other places tomorrow. The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Notre Dame.”

 

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