by Fifi Flowers
“Why what? Why are you mine?” I simply nodded my head. “Because I will not share you with anyone. Because the thought of anyone touching you, let alone fucking you, drives me insane.”
“Soooo there's the truth,” I said before adding a purring question, “Am I to be your sex slave?”
“I like that idea.” He grinned and then turned serious again. “I want you for everything, bébé.”
WE ARRIVED IN Paris. Paris! Ooh la la! I was in the City of Love and Lights with this hot man on my arm! A car was waiting for us at Charles de Gaulle, and we drove directly into the city. My heart beat faster as the first sweet signs of Paris hit me as we made a half circle around the Arc de Triomphe at the top of Champs Elysees before shooting down George V. I loved this tree lined avenue filled with shops, hotels and charming cafes. Getting closer to the Seine I knew I was about to see Tour de Eiffel and for some reason when I would see that I always felt as if my heart was home. However as many times as I’d been in this city, somehow this time felt so different; it felt so right. Perhaps it was being in the magical city with Evan, the man I love.
After crossing over the exquisite Pont de l’Alma bridge, we followed the Seine a short distance before we turned into a residential neighborhood and pulled up in front of an apartment building instead of a hotel. Looking up at the beautiful alabaster stone-block building with its black mansard roof, my eyes twinkled and an enormous smile spread across my lips as I asked in a dreamy voice, “Did you rent an apartment?”
“No, bébé, this is my place. I'm in Paris so often that it made sense to own an apartment. I stay in so many hotels when I work for a few days here and there, but here, staying in a hotel isn’t my thing. I like Paris to feel like home and this apartment is just across the river from most of my work. Some of the best things that have ever happened to me have happened in this city. Besides, my family likes to use it too, and it's a good investment. I can sell it or rent it when I decide I don't need it or want it anymore. Oh, and the answer is NO.”
I tilted my head, looking at him, puzzled. “The answer to what?”
“I know how your mind works. You are the only woman I have ever brought here. Well, other than my mother and sisters. And 'Isabelle.' She decorated it.”
The apartment was located on the fashionable Rive Gauche side of the Seine across from the design houses on Avenue Montaigne. It had three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, formal dining room, and a good size modern kitchen for Paris standards. There were French doors in the living room and master suite that open onto small balconies perfect for flowers boxes. The furnishings were very traditional with masculine and feminine touches. The decor was the exact opposite of his parent's apartment in the states. The apartment reminded me of my apartment with all its formal white boiserie woodwork, crown molding, and decorative ceilings. I adored the eclectic mix of French furnishings; the Louis XV style juxtaposed with contemporary and a scattering of antique accessories. The window coverings were divine full draperies in beautiful silks; they were something I would have chosen.
Once we settled in, Evan kissed me goodbye and headed out to his photo shoot. I texted my friend Lily to let her know I was ready for some fun.
< Hey Silly Lily, your BFF has arrived... Must see YOU immediately!!! >
< Ooh la la… Can’t wait to see you!!! Let's have lunch and go to a special museum showing… Please tell moi that you are available NOW! >
Lily told me to meet her at the infamous Café de Flore, one of her many haunts in her arrondissement. She loved to make the rounds to the various cafes of Paris where her favourite artists once frequented. She said the cafes inspired her; the spirits got into her mind and helped her create. I loved how her brain works.
Paris was the perfect place for her Lilly, and I couldn't imagine she would ever leave. She loved her life in this wonderful city. Lily was an artist; she photographed and painted various themes incorporating Paris into her work. In the last few years, she had started painting nudes with Parisian backgrounds. She had made quite a successful name for herself here. Her paintings were featured in various galleries. She had received some big commissions and some very famous people had posed for her. Of course, being always professional, she would not divulge who they were, not even to me!
It had been three years since I last visited my Silly Lily and oh, how I had missed her! We met in our first year of college at a Francophile event and became instant friends. In our second year of college, we took our first trip to Paris together. When we arrived, she took one look around, vowed that as soon as we graduated she was moving to Paris to live, and that's exactly what she did. Over the years, I had seen her a few times, and it had always been a crazy, fun time laced with a bit of drama. I was hoping today was fun, but uneventful. I was not looking for any Lily drama this time in Paris.
I threw on a heavy coat, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and rushed out the door and made my way down a couple blocks toward the Seine to Quai d’Orsay where I popped into a taxi.
I arrived at the café just as Lily showed up wearing that fashionable Parisian street attire that all women in Paris seemed to wear with that certain je ne sais quoi. Her ever-present sketch book was tucked under her arm as if it was part of her wardrobe. We hugged and kissed on each cheek, then found a table. After ordering champagne, we spent a long leisurely lunch over a three-course meal catching up on her latest escapades around Paris. Everything was delicious! Miam Miam! Oh mon dieu, I love Paris!
After we finished our yummy desserts and café crèmes, Lily and I headed to a little museum off the beaten path to view a retrospective collection of sketches and sketch books created by famous artist of the past. We popped into a taxi, stopping on a rue in the 8th arrondissement that was dotted with gorgeous mansions, and I thought we were making a detour before going to the museum until Lily announces, “Nous sommes arrivés!” Hopping out of the taxi, she paid and then dragged me to large doors that opened onto a gravel courtyard, giving way to a Parisian mansion. Once inside it was a typical stark white museum with statues, paintings, sculpted items and even a shopping cart filled with what looked like garbage. I was always amazed by certain things that were labeled as art.
As I was taking everything in, Lily pulled me through the musée to a private exhibit. She produced two very formal looking tickets, and we were admitted into an exhibit space existing of four large dark rooms. There was strategically placed lighting throughout the exhibit illuminating the wall sketches and the various sketch books scattered about on tabletops and in glass cases. While I meandered around taking it all in, Lily had wandered off with sketchbook at the ready.
I wasn’t sure I would be interested in sketches and sketch books as I preferred vividly painted canvases. I never thought of sketches as finished products to be put on display alone, but some of these were breathtakingly amazing. It made me rethink my own sketches as I looked at these lines and shadows drawn by some of my favourite artists like Picasso, Matisse, Lautrec, Degas and Renoir.
Eventually, I was reunited by Lily; she tucked her arm through mine and walked me through all four sections of the installation. My personal docent informed me about the history of each sketchbook and sketches adding fun stories that she probably heard from one her professors. I always loved when a personal story was told about each artist, it made them human and made us feel that we were no different from them, wanting to express ourselves creatively. Once Lily finished schooling me in all things art as only she could do, she informed me that she had a craving for chaud chocolat avec macarons.
I suggested the Ladurée Patisserie on the corner of Rue Jacob and Rue Bonaparte and Lily licked her lips. As we sat at a table for two, I filled her in on my relationship with Evan, and she hinted that she may have met someone special via all her ‘adventures.’ We were never at a loss for words or laughs when we were together.
Halfway through our hot chocolate with just crumbs of macarons left, Lily received a text. A startled look appeared on
her face, and I gathered that whatever it said, it must have been important because she leapt out of her chair, “Melissa, mon amie, time for me to go. And don't forget to ask Evan about a photo shoot with the two of you.” Lily gave me a wink, kissed me on each cheek, and she was gone. With anyone else, I would've been alarmed, maybe even hurt, but this behavior was typical of my dearest amie. Even though this was not unusual, she still worried me, and I feared that one day her wild escapades would get her in serious trouble.
ONCE I SETTLED the bill, I wandered the magical streets of Paris. Exiting Ladurée, I turned down Rue Jacob, in the direction of Evan’s apartment, looking in various boutique windows. The streets were crowded with shoppers and tourists. I loved listening to the excited voices of tourist as they discovered treasures hidden everywhere. I delighted in the sound of French dripping from the tongues of natives and foreigners attempting their rudimentary French. I adored that instead of one-stop shopping, Paris was filled with various specialty petits magasins; boucheries, boulangeries, chocolatiers, fromageries and patisseries. I popped into a few of these shops purchasing a baguette, some red ripe strawberries, a few stinky cheeses and a bouquet of anemones before strolling along the Seine. Lost in my promenade, I was startled by a text from Evan.
< HOME! NOW! MISS YOU! >
My heart started pounding. < Will be there as soon as I can. >
< HURRY! >
I grabbed a taxi to get to him as quickly as I could. Not fast enough for Evan.
< Where are you? >
< Getting closer. >
< Now? >
< A couple blocks away. >
< Now? >
< One block. >
No more texts. The taxi stopped in front of Evan’s apartment and my handsome man was waiting for me. As I was paying, he was opening the door and pulling me out of the taxi.
Laughing, he scooped me into his muscular arms along with my petite shopping bags, and carried me up the winding staircase to his apartment. “Put me down. I can walk,” I insisted.
Shaking his head and continuing his quest, he protested, “No way. I haven't touched you in hours. I want you close to me.” I didn't fight him; I just leaned into him, biting and kissing his neck. He growled, “You better stop that, bébé, or I'm going to fuck you right here on the stairs.” Laughing more, I gave him one more bite and then snuggled into him, making him growl again. I loved how those sexy growls sent chills down my spine and brought moisture to my panties.
As soon as we were through the doorway, our clothes were off, and our bodies were entwined in a passionate embrace. Our hands were roaming, our lips were parting, our tongues were caressing, drinking in each other’s essence.
Spiraling out of control with heat and desire, we couldn't get enough of each other. “Bébé, I need to taste every part of you,” he panted, moving his hot mouth to play with my nipples. Tugging and sucking them with his lips, I cried out for more, and he moved down my body.
Licking down my stomach, dipping his tongue in my navel, I moaned, prompting him to continue. He spread my legs wide, skimmed his tongue across the tender flesh between my thighs, tasting my moist opening over and over. As desire raged through me, I had an overwhelming urge to taste him, and I softly begged for his cock in my mouth.
Growling, Evan climbed over my throbbing body, placing his knees on each side of my head before lowering his cock to my lips. Anticipating having his cock in my mouth, I lifted up and my tongue reached out greedily to lick his moist tip, he moaned, “Be patient bébé.”
Slowly he dipped closer, and I swirled my tongue around the head of his beautiful cock. Sucking him in, my body quivered as Evan’s body stretches out across mine and his mouth returned to my pussy.
I sighed breathlessly, “oh mon dieu,” as he bathed my folds with his tongue, before sucking each lip, and then spreading them to gain better access to my clit.
Suckling, licking and biting my sensitive nerves, I rolled my hips into his mouth while continuing to suck his pulsating cock. “Mmmm. Bébé, you’re pussy is so wet and yummy.” I shivered as his words vibrating against my swollen lips.
Feeling him start to thicken and pulsate in my mouth, one of Evan’s large hands firmly grips one of my hips and with his other hand he plunged two fingers deep inside of me driving me wild and over the edge. I moaned around his hard cock as he spilled his seed into the back of my throat, joining me in a delicious orgasm.
Once we regained a normal breathing rhythm, he rolled us onto to our sides and then moved around my still quivering body until he captured my mouth with his and kissed my deeply. I loved this man and how made me feel.
Basking in the warm afterglow, curled up in Evan’s big, strong arms he confessed, “I love being with you. I missed you today. Could you tell?”
“Yes, I liked the way you showed me that you missed me,” I purred, wrapping my leg around his calf.
He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. “You are a feisty one, and I will gladly make you purr more, but first tell me about your first day in Paris. How was your day with your friend?”
I let out a little giggle as I pulled up on one elbow, looking into beautiful blue eyes. I loved that he was interested in what I had to say and wanted me to share my day with him. “Good. We had lunch. We toured a museum, then went to a patisserie, and just like Lily, she ended our day abruptly and took off. She's always interesting. I think you'll like her. She wants to photograph us nude so she can paint us,” I said with a big grin and a wink.
With a smirk plastered on his face he laughed, “I think I like her already.”
Snuggled up, I noticed a couple of garment bags and shoe boxes. “Are those what you're wearing to the benefit?”
“Yes... and what you are wearing.”
“What? Really?” I asked in a high pitched voice, and Evan laughed at my excitement.
“Since you will be walking down the red carpet with me, the design house suggested you wear something from their line. I think you will like what I helped select for you. Go ahead, open the front bag and I think you can figure out which box is your shoes.”
I jumped out of the bed naked, wrapped my robe around me and opened the shoe box first. I love shoes! Gorgeous black, jeweled, high-heel sandals. Very sexy! “Ooh la la! Très fabulous!” I unzipped the bag and the dress was equally amazing; black, ankle-length with long, sheer, black sleeves and a sheer top above the breast area and then backless and quite low. “GORGEOUS!”
“It is a beautiful dress, but it is nothing without you in it. It is you who will make the dress look truly gorgeous. “
“Ooh monsieur, you make me blush.” I giggled. Then looking more closely at the gown I added in a worried tone, “I hope it fits.”
“It should fit you perfectly. I gave the seamstress your height and clothing size. I told her to make sure my beautiful girl was wearing the best dress of them all. Parfait for Perfect as always.”
“Merci Beaucoup.” I stepped away from the garment and launched myself at Evan, smothering him in kisses.
“As much as I would love to stay in bed with you the rest of the day, I think we should go wander around the city,” he said removing me from his body and directing me towards the shower.
Looking over my shoulder at him, I said with a pout, “You’re no fun,” to which, I received a playful slap on the ass. I giggled and raced him to the shower.
WE BUNDLED UP in heavy coats, scarves and gloves for a stroll along the marvelous tree line streets. I loved this city with its fabulous architecture and history. It amazed me that I was surrounded by exciting landmarks near Evan’s neighborhood: The apartment where Dumas penned The Three Musketeers. The Luxembourg Gardens though this was not a great time of year to visit that park or various other parks scattered about Paris. And my favourite museum, the Musée d’Orsay was only a few blocks down the Seine. I loved that there was something to see and experience on every street. If the buildings and the streets could talk, imagine the tales they would t
ell. I wondered who lived in Evan’s building and what they contributed to the history of this wondrous city. Perhaps someone of high nobility, as this arrondissement was called the aristocratic district. Ooh la la! Or maybe art patron Gertrude Stein had been entertained along with Hemingway and Matisse in his sitting room. These thoughts made me delirious. I was totally enthralled with this city and even more so sharing this holiday with Evan.
As it got dark, we wandered across the Seine to Avenue Montaigne watching store windows light up, and wondrous displays twinkle with life. The holiday windows in Paris were spectacular. Evan hugged me tightly as we looked at different windows, discussing the designs. I thought of my parents from time to time. I think he knew it because every so often he pulled me closer and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. I couldn't believe that only two weeks ago we came together in front of a magical window. I loved him. I hoped he wouldn't break my heart, and in the very same breath I pushed that thought to the back of my mind remembering I was in the city of love and I must embrace our time together. Eat, drink and be merry Parisian style!
We worked up quite the appetite from walking, and settled on a quaint bistro just off the Avenue Montaigne for dinner. It was bustling with people and we were so close to our fellow diners, it felt like we were all part of an intimate dinner party. Everyone was chatting away in various languages while they delighted in the delicious cuisine. No one ate quickly in Paris. Every meal was lingered over and every bite savored. It was another thing about this city that warmed my heart.
“Thank you for a romantic day. I'll never forget it.” I said reaching across the table and gently running my hand along his strong jaw line wishing it was my tongue caressing his face.
He captured my hand running his lips along the inside of my wrist, “It was great for me too. I don't think I will ever look at a shop window the same.”
“I have to tell you, I was a bit disappointed. I didn't see a gorgeous man in one of these holiday windows,” I teased my very own handsome window decoration.
