Suspended just before the peak of my orgasm, I willed my body to wait for him, and the few seconds I lingered there were equal parts agony and rapture, such that I nearly wept with the effort. Finally, I could bear it no longer and sailed over the top, screaming his name as I pulled him into me, my face buried in his neck, my body tightening around his.
And it happened. It fucking happened.
Just as the rhythmic contractions of my body subsided, Lucas buried himself deep inside me and I felt his cock begin to throb. He moaned long and hard, his movement reduced to tiny little thrusts that redoubled the strength of my climax. Wave after wave after wave of unspeakable pleasure coursed through my body, and I imagined it coursing through his too, as if we were sharing the same current of sexual electricity. My mouth hung open in utter shock, and stars—no, entire fucking galaxies—exploded in front of my eyes.
Eventually our bodies stilled and our hearts stopped threatening to burst right out of our chests, but I still couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe.
Not only had I just had the best sex of my entire life, including two name-screaming, hair-pulling, sheet-clawing orgasms, but I’d learned something.
The simultaneous O.
Was not. A myth.
#
“Again,” I demanded.
“Again? I’ve done it twice already.”
“Again. I can’t get enough.”
Lucas rolled his eyes but strummed the opening chords to La Vie En Rose once more on his guitar, and I gleefully clapped my hands. We were sitting on the floor in the living room sharing a plate of grapes—they’re called raisins in French, how weird is that?—and tearing off pieces of a baguette that Lucas said was from yesterday so it was too old to eat, but it tasted fine to me. Better than fine. In fact, I declared it Best. Baguette. Ever.
I was experiencing a bit of Post Second Orgasm Euphoria.
“I want to know what the lyrics mean.” I popped another grape in my mouth. “I think you should sing it for me too this time.”
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t really know the lyrics by heart or I would, although I’m not a very good singer.”
I smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t be critical. You have plenty of other talents.”
Grinning, Lucas strummed one more chord before muting the strings with his hands. “Wait.” Getting to his feet, he laid the guitar on the couch and went into the bedroom. He returned with a laptop, set it on the little table in front of the window, and opened it up.
While he searched for the song, I started to brush the crumbs off the button-down shirt he’d given me to put on, but then I felt guilty since his floors were so clean. Getting to my feet, I picked up the hem of the shirt so they wouldn’t spill everywhere and went to the kitchen to drop them into the garbage. Returning to the rug, I picked up the plate, threw grape stems away, and put it in the tiny dishwasher, admiring the sparkling counters and clean sink again. I’d never have guessed when I first saw Lucas at the bar that his apartment would be so neat. His tidiness was such a nice surprise, it inspired a new list.
Well, that and his tongue.
5 Awesome Things About Lucas
1) He always kisses me at least once on each cheek when he says hello.
2) He knows about wine, history, cathedrals, music, and love stories. (Bonus points for deadly historical blowjob as well as for family owning a vineyard.)
3) He opens doors for me and always allows me to enter a room first.
4) His apartment is beautiful and immaculate, even the bathroom.
5) He knows how to give me multiple orgasms and doesn’t give a fuck about a wet spot. In fact, he’s proud of them.
“Found it.”
A moment later, I heard the scratchy sound of an old recording and then the opening strains of the song. A huge grin stretched my lips, and I walked around the counter into the living room just as Lucas straightened up. The sight of him, wearing jeans but no shirt, barefoot, his curls messed and lying any which way, made my stomach flip.
“Dance with me.”
He shook his head. “I’m an even worse dancer than singer, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t care. Please?” I held out my hand, and he grimaced but took it, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his other arm around me. In my bare feet, my eyes were level with his chin, which meant I could comfortably rest my head on his shoulder. “You’re so easy,” I teased. “All it takes is ‘please’ to get you to do something.”
“You better be nice or I’m not going to tell you what the lyrics mean,” he warned.
I kissed his scruffy chin. “Sorry. I’ll be nice.”
Closing my eyes, I tipped my head onto his shoulder again and listened as he translated the lyrics for me, and the gist of it was that life looks different when you’re in love. Better. Prettier. Although just like this afternoon, my mind drifted from what he was saying to how he said it. How his voice sometimes cracked when he spoke low and soft. How he held me to his chest so closely I could feel his heartbeat. How he swayed to the song’s old-fashioned rhythm, turning us in a slow circle in front of the windows.
My cheek warmed on his bare skin, and I felt something start to stir within me. It had to be going on three AM, and I was drowsy and satisfied, yet I couldn’t stop myself from kissing his shoulder, his collarbone, his neck.
Lucas stood still as I kissed my way up to his lips, then he took my head in his hands, bringing his mouth to mine. Between us I felt his cock begin to thicken and rise and press against my pelvic bone. My lower body clenched involuntarily.
“Mmmmm, Lucas?” I turned my head and his mouth moved along my jaw and down my neck.
“Yeah?” His breathing had gone ragged.
“I know I’ve already had my star turn and one encore already, and I don’t want to be greedy, but can we do it again?”
Instead of answering, he walked backward and sat on the couch, pulling me down onto his lap. I straddled him, one knee on either side of his hips, and he began unbuttoning my shirt.
“The couch, really?” I couldn’t help but be amazed. We’d closed the drapes and all, but Tucker would never have done it on an expensive couch, and this one looked like a nice antique. “You’re not worried about…getting something on it?”
“Do I seem worried?” He didn’t even pick his head up from my chest, where he was already dragging his tongue over one nipple and twisting the other one between his fingers. Fuck, I loved his mouth and hands on me. His breath on my skin.
“No.”
“There’s your answer.”
I smiled, holding his head to my chest as he nibbled and sucked and bit, circling my hips, rubbing against the erection straining against his jeans. This feels fucking amazing—maybe he’ll let me stay on top.
Yet another thing Tucker did not enjoy, at least never with me.
Lucas brought his lips back to mine, and I gripped the back of the couch, riding him even harder and feeling him push up to meet me. “Let me get up for one second,” he whispered.
When he returned, he kicked off his jeans and pulled me right back where I was.
I had to bite my lip to keep from shouting hallelujah.
After helping him roll the condom on, I slowly lowered my body onto his long, solid cock, my breath caught in my throat. Lucas closed his eyes as I sank down, his expression almost pained. He kept his hands on my hips, but he didn’t push.
“Oh my God,” he breathed. “You feel so fucking good, I don’t know if I can even look at you.”
I smiled. “Why?”
“Because you’re so gorgeous, and your body’s so perfect, and you’re so tight and wet and oh fuck, don’t move yet…”
But I’d gotten all the way down, gasping at how deep I was able to take him, and couldn’t resist rocking my hips a little, just to tease him. “Mmm, Lucas.”
“Fuck.” His cock pulsed once inside me.
“I love the way that feels,” I whispered, squeezing him with my core muscles.
<
br /> “Mia.” My name fell from his lips before he kissed me long and hard and deep, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. He threaded his fingers through my hair as I began to raise and lower myself, sliding up and down his shaft. “Oh God. Just wait—don’t move,” he begged, curling his fists and pulling on my hair.
I didn’t want it to end yet either, so after lowering myself all the way down again, I stayed where I was, reveling in the feel of him so deep and thick within me. He reached between us with one hand and rubbed his thumb over my clit, keeping the other fingers furled tight in my hair.
“Oh my God, how do you know exactly how to touch me?” I whimpered. “Did you read some kind of instruction manual somewhere and memorize it?” His thumb moved quicker, and I could feel the orgasm beginning to build.
“Fuck, Lucas.” I had to move. If I made him come too soon, so be it—I wouldn’t be that far behind. Pumping my hips over his, I grabbed his shoulders and held on. He slid his hands around to my ass and gripped me tight, shoving into me so hard his hips came off the couch. I rocked faster and faster, until the burning hot pressure within me built up so much I cried out, desperate for release.
And then, as if it were his climax that burst my pleasure wide open, Lucas groaned and stiffened beneath me right as my own orgasm peaked, and I rode his throbbing cock as uncontrollable spasms slammed through me.
And I actually screamed, “Oh my God, I love Paris!”
Once Lucas stopped laughing enough so he could breathe, he stood up and walked us into the bedroom with my legs still wrapped around his waist. “So you’re glad you stayed, I take it?”
I nodded. “Very.”
“Good.” He deposited me on the bed, dropping a kiss on my forehead before going into the bathroom, still grinning.
Closing my eyes, I lay back, my arms flung over my head, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. If I hadn’t been so fucking happy, I’d probably have been embarrassed. But I couldn’t stop smiling.
A moment later, Lucas came out and flopped down next to me. “You know, I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard during sex.”
I peeked at him. “I’m glad I can amuse you.”
“You do more than that. God, you’re incredible.”
I rolled to my side, head propped in my hand. “Sure you’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?”
“Why would I feel sorry for you?”
“Because I was so miserable yesterday. Because I’ve never had sex this good before. Because I’ve never had three orgasms in one night—maybe not even in one week.”
He shook his head. “Why the hell did you waste so much time with that guy? If you were mine, I’d never keep my hands off you. Or any other body part.”
My belly flipped. If you were mine… “Yeah, well, he was different. Do you know that I can count on one hand the number of times he…did the thing you did earlier?”
“Go down on you? Are you kidding me? In two years, you can count the times on one hand?” Lucas looked appalled. “He had the sweetest pussy in all creation right next to him all that time and he didn’t spend his days and nights buried in it?”
I shook my head, my pulse quickening at his words. “Yep. It was like, my birthday, our anniversary, and maybe like a random fourth of July or something.”
He rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Mia. Don’t tell me any more. It just gets worse.”
“He had only two positions he liked. I called them the Approved Positions.” I was laughing now. “But not to his face, of course.”
Lucas groaned and grabbed a pillow, which he folded over his head. “I can’t hear you.”
I grabbed it and held it to my chest. “I’m only trying to emphasize that tonight has been amazing for many reasons.” I batted my lashes. “Three in particular.”
Lucas smiled too. “Good. There’s more where those came from. But you must be exhausted. Do you want to stay over or do you want me to take you back to your hotel?”
I sighed. “Thanks, but I should go back. You don’t have to take me. I can get a cab.”
“No, I’ll take you.” He swung his feet to the floor. “And don’t even argue with me, princess. Or you won’t get reasons four, five, and six tomorrow.”
My jaw dropped. “God, I love Paris.”
His crooked smile appeared over his shoulder. “You mentioned that.”
#
Lucas rode with me in the cab back to the hotel, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. He even asked the driver to wait while he walked me in. We said goodbye at the elevator, and I had to giggle inwardly at his messy hair, disheveled clothing, and kiss-swollen lips. But I knew I looked the same way.
And I didn’t care.
He kissed me softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, and call me when you wake up.”
“OK.” I had his cell phone number written on a scrap of paper in my purse. “See you then. I had a great day. Thanks for—” I lifted my shoulders. How the hell did you thank someone for everything that Lucas had done for me today?
But before I could finish, he put two fingers over my lips. “Stop. It was my pleasure.”
The elevator doors opened behind me and I backed in, unable to keep from smiling at Lucas, who stood there with his hands in his pockets as the doors closed. The elevator ascended quickly, matching the swooping feeling inside me when I thought about the night I’d just experienced. I brought a hand to my mouth and laughed out loud.
Good thing I was alone in the elevator.
I walked down the hall to my room in a goofy-grin daze, exhausted but happy. So happy.
So happy I couldn’t resist skipping a little before I got to my door.
So happy I couldn’t stop smiling as I undressed and hung up my wrinkled blouse.
So happy I twirled my way from the bathroom to the bed after removing my makeup and brushing my teeth.
And then I lay there between the cool sheets, sighing blissfully. Tomorrow maybe I’d analyze my feelings or wonder if my behavior had been wise or examine my reasons for sleeping with a man I met yesterday. But for now, I was just going to bask in the glow.
5 Reasons I Fucking Love Paris
1) Lucas
2) Lucas
3) Lucas
4) Lucas
5) Lucas
#
I woke up around ten and picked up the phone on the nightstand, following the instructions to make an international call. It was probably unforgivable to wake Coco at four AM her time to discuss orgasms but I had to talk to somebody. I had to hear someone tell me I wasn’t crazy or slutty or both.
Although I didn’t feel slutty. In general, I’m not judgmental about sex, and even in the light of morning, my behavior with Lucas didn’t strike me as promiscuous. We’d been careful. It’s just that I didn’t have a habit of being so spontaneous, and I’d come to Paris expecting one thing and experiencing the total opposite.
“Hello?”
“Oh. My. God.”
“Mia!” Coco’s croaky voice held a note of worry. “What time is it? Are you OK?”
“I’m better than OK.” A shiver pulsed through my body. “I’m fucking ecstatic.”
Coco sucked in her breath. “What? Oh my God, what’s going on over there?”
“You’re not going to believe this. I can barely believe it.”
“Go on.”
I licked my lips. “I met someone.”
Her squeal was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “And?”
“And I had three orgasms last night.”
Silence.
“Coco?”
“I’m sorry, I was in shock. Did you say three?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
“Who is this wizard of O’s?”
“His name is Lucas. He’s a professor in New York, but he’s half-French and living here for the summer.”
“Omigod. I’m dying. How old is he?”
“I don’t know, actually. We didn’t really talk
about that.” Which was kind of funny and also kind of crazy—I’d never, never slept with someone without knowing their age. Or their shirt size, middle name, car make and model. “I’d guess he’s about our age, though. Maybe a little older.”
“What does he look like?”
Ha. She was going to love this. “You won’t believe it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t either. He’s got messy dark hair and scruff. And he isn’t tall.”
“What? What do you mean, messy hair?”
I closed my eyes and pictured it, recalled the feel of it in my hands. “Kind of scraggly. Thick and wavy.”
“And scruff?”
“Scruff,” I confirmed. “Oh, and he plays the guitar.”
“Next you’re going to tell me he has tattoos.”
I giggled. “Not that I noticed. Yet.”
“Oh. My. God, Mia. Where did you meet him?”
Flipping on to my stomach, I told her all about my disastrous first evening and how I’d randomly wandered into the bar where he was working. “And the weird thing is, he doesn’t really even work there. It’s his brother’s bar or something, and he was just filling in.”
Coco gasped. “It’s fate.”
I shrugged and wound a strand of hair around my finger. Was there such a thing as fate? I wasn’t sure. “Anyway, he offered to be my tour guide for a day so I wouldn’t have to see Paris alone. I was ready to turn around and come home before that.”
“Sounds like it was a hell of a tour.”
“It was. I mean, it didn’t get sexy until late in the night, but when it did, it really did.” In fact, I was getting wet now just thinking about it. Damn.
“I just can’t believe it! So will you see him again?”
“Uh huh. Part two of the tour.” Which I hope ends the same way Part One did. Quickly, I counted the days I had left in my head. Five—although hadn’t Lucas said he was leaving Paris tomorrow? Shit. Maybe today was all we had left.
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