by Lily Angelo
Bonbons pour ma douce. (Sweets for my Sweet.) Sorry I couldn’t arrive with you, but I promise to make the rest of our trip unforgettable. Love, Jacob
That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with Jacob. He could put a smile on my face from a thousand miles away. I popped the cork on the champagne, sunk my teeth into one of those juicy strawberries, and opened the French doors to the balcony. I think my eyes almost exploded trying to take the view in. I had an immaculate, first-class view of The Eiffle Tower. My eyes welled up with tears the moment was so magical. I stood there dazed for at least ten minutes sipping my champagne and watching the twinkling lights that covered the giant sculpture.
The sounds of the street traffic broke my spell and I remembered that I needed to start getting ready for Phillip and Kira’s party. I went through my luggage and laid out my favorite black dress and high heels. I was about to get the lace panties Jacob liked to see me in when I decided that I wasn’t going to wear any undergarments. I figured I would be meeting him at the party and I wanted to give him the proper Parisian greeting with a French kiss and an easy-accessible vagina.
I got undressed, brushed my teeth and started my shower. I started fantasizing of the week to come as I lathered myself up: visiting the Palace of Versailles, touring the French countryside, shopping and letting Jacob take on that French cuisine tour he always spoke of when he cooked. He found pleasure in watching me eat and awaited the chance to take me to the restaurants and markets that molded him into the chef he’d become. I snapped out of my daydream when I thought I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. I poked my head around the shower curtain and listened to see if I could confirm the noise. I didn’t see or hear anything so I went on with my shower. Then suddenly, the shower curtain flew back and I nearly had heart failure as I screamed and dropped the soap.
“Bon jour mon amour!” (Hello my love!)
“Damn it, Jacob! You scared the hell out of me!” I gasped clinching my chest.
Jacob chuckled and pulled me into his arms; completely unaffected by the fact that he was still fully clothed and I was wet and covered in soap.
“I just wanted to surprise you. I know how you love surprises!”
“That wasn’t a surprise. That was attempted murder. I almost had a heart attack. Here I am in a foreign country; I can barely speak the language and here comes the French Norman Bates coming to do me in. Feel my chest. I’m serious.... I saw a white light and heard angels singing.”
“I would have brought you back to life. Let me show you this CPR.”
He held my face and pulled me in for a kiss. His hands wandered to my backside, rubbing and squeezing my soapy ass. I threw my arms around his neck and told him how much I missed him as we kissed. He slid his hands all over my wet body and my lady-parts throbbed yearningly as we sucked lips. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders and ripped him out of his shirt. Jacob flung his shoes off and swiftly removed the rest. He continued his fiery embrace as he stepped into the shower backing me against the wall. He sucked my earlobe and whispered, “Je t’aime (I love you).” He delicately seduced my body, licking my neck, sucking my nipples, kissing by stomach until his tongue swirled around by pearl. He softly shook his head between my legs, bringing me to my highest point. It was only right that I returned the favor. When he stood up, I kissed his lips and bowed before him. I placed my hand at the base of his stick and pumped him into my mouth. Poor Jacob didn’t stand a chance. He always came quick when I gave him head, but I didn’t mind because he could get another erection within seconds and would fuck me until I couldn’t see straight. I knew he was trying not to cum but I took no mercy on him. I blew him like I needed a healing and his dick held the cure. I had him calling my name within seconds. We finished our shower and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. I didn’t want to get any makeup on my dress so I sat naked in front of the mirror. I was applying my blush when Jacob came from behind and started to fondle my breasts.
“Don’t start nothin, won’t be nothin. You know we have to get ready for the party.”
“It’ll be okay if we’re a little late.”
His hands consumed my breasts as he kissed the back of my neck. Before I knew it, we were on the bed making out again. Jacob sat on the edge of the bed and I stood facing him. He circled one of my nipples with his tongue and tweaked the other between his fingers. He knew just how to push my buttons. I got so wet that my nectar ran down my leg. I climbed on top and wrapped my legs around him. He held my back and guided my ass as I rode him.
“Whose pussy is this?” He asked arrogantly, bouncing me on his pipe.
“It’s yours baby.”
“Do you like the way I fuck you?” He asked softly.
“Yes, you know I do.”
He kissed my lips and told me to stand up. He got behind me and arched me over the bed. He started nice and slow, but gradually built his way up to a faster pace. He smacked my ass as I threw my dripping pussy back at him. Then he laid me on the bed and licked me until I came again. His body felt dense and moist as he eased his way back inside. The rest of our love making was soft and passionate. He looked into my eyes and told me he wanted us to be together forever before reaching his second climax. We held each other tenderly. The balcony doors were still open and we just listened to the sounds of the city as the night air cooled our sweaty bodies.
We were drifting off to Snoozeville when the telephone rang and startled us both. It was Phillip calling to see what was taking us so long to get to the party. Jacob began speaking French, and the conversation was too fast for me to comprehend. He put the phone down and gave my thigh a squeeze.
“Phillip said he’s sending a car over, and we better be ready by the time it gets here.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing if we just stayed here for the rest of the night, would it?” I asked with droopy eyes and a yawn.”
“I know you’re tired, but we can’t let Phillip down. You know how he is. If we don’t get up and go now, he’s just going to come and bang on the door until we do get up anyway. You’re already beautiful, just throw your dress on and you’ll be good. Besides, this is your first night in Paris; I want to take you out and show you off.”
“Oh please, there’s need in trying to butter me up now. You just got the goods.”
He took my hand and kissed it, “I’m just getting’ started Toots.”
“We just made love in a suite overlooking The Eiffe Tower. If you can top that, then I’ll gladly start calling you Don Juan.”
“King Kong ain’t got nothin on me.” He said, giving my ass a light smack.
We rushed to get our clothes on and made it downstairs to meet the limo in record time. I was still in awe of Paris’ beauty and couldn’t take my eyes away from the window. Meanwhile, Jacob couldn’t keep his hands and eyes off me. He rubbed my thighs and kissed my neck the whole ride to Phillip’s restaurant. When we arrived, the party was in full swing. We greeted Phillip and Kira and Jacob paraded me around the room introducing me to his friends he hadn’t seen in many years. We were having a blast; the food was great, the people were polite, and we drank from an endless river of wine and champagne. Jacob was by my side the entire night, making sure I was comfortable and translating if I was unsure of what someone was saying. I thought I did pretty well for my first night in France. Those audio CDs actually proved to be useful. We spent the night dancing and having hot make-out sessions in corners of the party. I could spend an eternity kissing Jacob; even our lips were soul mates.
We stumbled into the limo tipsy and high on love. When we reached the hotel, Jacob wasn’t ready to go inside and suggested we take a late-night stroll to The Eiffle Tower. I dangled my bare feet off the lobby sofa while Jacob went up to get me a more comfortable pair of shoes. Our laughter filled the empty streets as we held hands and Jacob told me stories of his experiences in France. When we reached the tower, Jacob put his arms around me and we marveled at the statue’s beauty. Then his tone became really cold and se
vere as he turned me around to face him.
“Lily, I love you, but I can’t stay in this type of relationship anymore. I can’t go on doing this.”
My heart hit the pavement, and my smile quickly turned upside down. I wasn’t sure how to respond so I didn’t say anything. He couldn’t possibly be ruining the most romantic day of my life. I thought, surely he didn’t bring me all the way to Paris to breakup me.
“There was never a fire at the restaurant. I was already here in Paris when I called you. I’m having all my things moved out of my apartment while we’re here. I think it’s time for us to move on.”
I was so angry and confused; I didn’t know how to react. I wasn’t going to let him see my pain, so I jerked my hands away and started walking off before any tears fell. As I walked away, a violin started to play the melody to Stevie Wonder’s My Cherie Amour. I turned around to see a violinist standing beside Jacob. He motioned for me to come back. Part of me was still angry that he’d upset me so badly, but I could never stay mad with a Stevie Wonder ballad playing. I used to listen to Stevie’s love songs religiously when we dated in high school. Jacob took my hand and knelt on one knee.
“I remember you saying that you wanted to marry a man that made you feel the way Stevie Wonder’s music made you feel. Do you remember that?”
I looked down into his eyes and nodded yes.
“When I said, ‘I think it’s time for us to move on,’ I meant it’s time for us to move on to the next phase of our lives together. And I’m still having my things moved out of my apartment while we’re here, but I’m moving them into that house on Linx Avenue—the one with the big porch you like so much. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key and a diamond ring. “Lily, I love you. I always have, even the years we spent apart, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He slid the ring on my finger and closed my hand around the key. We kissed and held each other until the violinist stopped playing our song. I finally had my French kiss under The Eiffle Tower, and I could scratch that off my bucket list.
Tina’s Dad
Tina and I had been best friends since elementary school. She lived a few blocks down and we grew up doing almost everything together, especially when her mother passed away our freshman year of high school. A really bad snow storm started that afternoon and Tina’s mom, Clarisa, was on the interstate trying to get home from work before the storm worsened. Her car hit a patch of ice, spinning her into on-coming traffic. Her Toyota didn’t stand a chance against that 20 ton semi-truck. Clarisa was crushed instantly. Her father wouldn’t even allow Tina to see her mother’s body at the hospital and they had a closed casket at the funeral. The whole year following the accident, Tina stayed at our house or I stayed with her. She went from a best friend to an adopted sister to me and my family.
It was a difficult time for Tina and her father, but they both are doing quite well now. Four years went by in a flash and we were quickly approaching the end of our senior year. Tina and I were both on the track team, and we usually hung out at her pad after school since I had two younger brothers and a little sister that kept our house in a constant circus. I think all the noise and chaos made for an easy distraction while she was grieving. I had always thought of Tina’s father, Timothy, as an uncle since we spent so much time around one another. My harmless perception of Tim soon changed one Saturday afternoon when I pulled up to get Tina for our weekend mani-pedi ritual. He was outside shirtless doing some yard work. I knew Mr. Davis wasn’t an unattractive man, but when I saw his defined chest, rippling abs, and sculpted arms pushing that lawnmower, I saw him in a whole new light. He worked as a banker and I usually saw him in a suit and tie. His sweat gave him a glossy finish that glowed in the afternoon sun. Tina told me he started working out more after her mom died. She said it helped him focus on something other than the fact that his wife was gone. I’m sure Tim was probably around the same age as my parents, early to mid-forties, well groomed and clean cut. I thought his salt and pepper hair made him all the more handsome – distinguished, matured, and sophisticated like a well-aged cognac.
I wasn’t a virgin anymore, but I had only had sex a hand full of times with the guy I dated my junior year of high school. Youth and running track had my body in tip-top shape; a tummy flat as board, breasts full and perky, a firm, round bottom, and thick legs like a thoroughbred. I was coming into my sexual awakening and I felt like a ripe fruit – fresh, juicy, and ready to be plucked. I had only seen Timothy on two or three dates since Clarisa’s passing. Tina had confided that he still wasn’t over her mother’s death and that she’d accidently walking in on him crying while looking at Clarisa’s picture a few times, the most recent being last year. On several occasions, she’d mentioned something about setting him up on a few dates before she left for college because she worried about him being lonely once she was gone. I had no one to talk to about my secret crush on Mr. Davis, but I thought about him constantly: what it would feel like to kiss him, hold him, blow him. I was always careful not to be obvious when I was at Tina’s, starring at Mr. Davis when no one was paying attention. I remember one day Tina and I were in her room talking and listening to music while Mr. Davis was outside washing our cars. He was wearing gray sweats and a white wife-beater. I went to the bathroom so I sneak-a-peek from the window. I was so turned on by just watching him that I obliviously started touching myself. One hand went under my shirt to rub my breasts, while the other slid beneath my denim. My clitoris was soft and swollen. My fingers dove even deeper sliding across the slippery folds of my vagina. I could imagine him taking me in his arms, removing my clothes, and entering my sweet, sweet pussy against the wet, soapy car. That was the first time I had ever masturbated. My orgasm was powerful like a nuclear weapon, leaving me shaking and devastated against the bathroom wall for what seemed like an eternity. Once I collected myself, I couldn’t help but wonder if he could help me reach the same climax in reality.
A few weeks later, Tina and I planned a Friday night sleepover at her house so we could go shopping for prom dresses the next morning. We rented a few movies and got some snacks for the evening. We were in the living room trying to decide which movie to watch first when Mr. Davis walked in from work. In my mind, he shined like a star in his black suit and briefcase.
“Hey daddy,” “Hey Mr. Davis,” Tina and I greeted him simultaneously.
“Hello girls,” Mr. Davis said sitting his briefcase down and flipping through the mail.
“Lily’s sleeping over and we’re going dress shopping in the morning, so get your platinum card in gear. Okay Daddy?
“Yeah, I know. You’ve reminded me at least ten times this week. Just don’t get anything too revealing, as a matter of fact, to make sure your dress meets the Tim Davis Dress Code Standards, send me a picture of it before you make any purchases. That goes for both of you,” Mr. Davis smiled in the foyer thumbing through the envelopes and sales papers. “I’m going upstairs to unwind. Holler if you need me.” He rolled his mail up and tucked it under his arm before grabbing his briefcase and heading for the stairs.
Tina waited until her dad had been upstairs for about an hour before pulling a bottle of rum from her bag.
“Where did you get that?”
“Lee got it for me. His parents brought it back from their trip to Jamaica. He’s coming over later tonight, but we can go ahead and get the party started.” Tina giggled, waving the bottle of rum from its neck.
“You know I’m down! What do you have to mix with it?”
“I think we have some pineapple juice in the frig. Come on, let’s see what we can put together.” Tina joyously leapt from couch and trotted into the kitchen.
“Aight.” I concurred not needing very much coaxing at all.
We sprung from the couch and made our merry little way to the kitchen. Tina got us two glasses of ice, the carton of pineapple juice, and we strutted back to our positions on the couch ready
for the forbidden taste of alcohol. I offered Tina my glass and watched the rum melt the ice as she poured. We smiled at each other with the excitement of doing something wrong, fanning our post-adolescent sails. The pineapple juice clouded the clear rum as we shook our glasses to make a deliciously naughty concoction.
“Mmmm, tastes pretty good,” Tina said smacking her lips.
“No, not bad at all. Cheers to Lee’s parents for having such great taste in rum,” I lifted my glass and tilted it towards Tina.
We sat there sipping our drinks and watching our movies like it was a weekend tradition we’d been practicing for years. We froze, and our eyes widen with panic when we heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Tina quickly slid the bottle behind the throw hanging from the couch. A light came on in the kitchen and we heard the refrigerator door open and close, then cabinets slamming, and finally popcorn popping in the microwave. When the popping ended, the light went back out and the sound of advancing footsteps drew near. He stuck his head in the living room and we gave him the daughter’s smile of virtue. He smiled back, lifting one skeptic eye-brow and journeyed back to his room. We snickered as he walked away, feeling triumphant about our secret win over the Parental War millions of teens were fighting every day. It was close to 11 p.m. when Lee sent Tina a text that he was parking around the corner. A few minutes later Lee tapped on the window and Tina tiptoed to the door to let him in.
“What’s up Lily?” Lee said amiably as he cuddled next to Tina on the couch.”
“This magnificent rum is what’s up. Compliments to your alcoholic parents and their thieving son.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere Lily, but speaking of which. Where’s my glass? ” Lee whispered.
“Here, drink some of mine,” Tina handed Lee her glass.
Lee was on the track team as well - which is how Tina and Lee started hooking up. From time to time he would persuade us to cut school early and drive to the lake or the next town’s park to take a few shots. Other than that, Lee was a pretty good guy. He had a 4.0 GPA and a full academic scholarship to the university only a few hours away. I think the fact that he was an ugly duckling that grew into his good looks helped to mold his character and sweet personality. He and Tina were each other’s firsts and they both had a nauseating case of puppy love.