The Frenchman Who Never Gets Laid

We're sitting in the living room, making plans for our upcoming trip to Japan. While I am on the laptop researching train schedules, you have been scanning the travel magazines for exciting sites to go and see. Turning the page on a lovely picture of one, you ask the question "Why is it that geisha are always women? You would think there would be a male equivalent."

I give a hearty chuckle, and tell you "I know why. Stay here" as I get up, smirking.

You roll your eyes as I go past and go back to your magazine. As you read up on snow monkeys and high speed trains, you hear me digging though the cabinets in the master bedroom. After about 20 minutes, I come back into the living room, and give a tight little Oriental bow. You see that I have stripped down and put on your red and white silken robe. On you, it hangs to just above your knee, but on my taller frame, it is almost obscenely short. But when I raise my face up and look into your eyes, you almost do a spit-take.

"I get it." you think to yourself as you smile lovingly at me. "I totally get it. I have enjoyed French literature all my life, but I never thought about it till now. Of all the hundreds of French lovers who tales I have enjoyed, I have never realized that the one guy who never, ever, ever gets laid is that most French of characters, the mime. Applying geisha make-up to a masculine face is not sexy because it results in a mime."

With a second bow, I offer my hand. "Shall we adjourn to the bathhouse?"

You get up, curtsy, and take my hand with a smile. "Charmed, I'm sure."

As we walk back hand-in-hand to the master bathroom, you see a pale, red light coming out of the bathroom. As I step forward to turn off the steaming stream of water in the tub, you look towards the vanity, where I have unscrewed a couple of the light bulbs, and wrapped the remainder of the shades in red silken handkerchiefs. I pull your chin towards me with a finger, and give you a kiss. "Can I help you out of those clothes, Madam?"

As we do the dance of slowly, sensuously, removing your attire, we trade those glances and smiles that form a language that only a couple of long standing can fully develop. As you kick off your knickers, you reach over to my face with both hands and give me a kiss. "Before you join me, wash that ridiculous make up off."

I smile, and turn myself towards the sink. You step into the scented, foamy water, and ease yourself down. You admire the way the steam and the light dance in the room. I turn off the sink's faucets, and hang the robe on the hook behind the door. You lean forward as I ease in behind you. I grab a large, oversize sponge in one hand, and a rough loofah in the other. I use each of them in turn, sensuously laboring over every inch of your body. You try to make a "dirty girl" bon mot, but I tell you to "Hush, this is all about you tonight." You lean back into my smooth, still muscular chest as I lather your long hair. Regardless of my purported focus on you, you know I am enjoying myself, because of the thick, firm branch you feel along the small of your back. I put down the glass I had been using to rinse your hair, and clasp my hands across your lap. After a time luxuriating in a fine silence, you say "Ain't we a fine pair."

As my hands drag up higher to your chest, I reply "No, this is a fine pair." I don't have to see your eyes to know they are doing that loving eye roll when I make jokes like that. I feel you squirm as I caress your nipples. I twist and pull them, just the way you like it. Soon, you reach across, and pull my hand down towards your waiting pussy. As your hand settles in atop of mine, you start guiding my fingers the way you are so desperate for. We work the fingers together, and your breathe shortens. As you reach your climax, you make that funny squeal of delight that I know so well.

I feel the water is getting a bit tepid, so I kick the drain. I help you up, grab your robe and help into it. I sweep you up in my arms, and then walk you toward the bedroom...

The End

---

This is my first submission. Please feel free to drop me a line with any comments.

---

To Chris