Nice, Cote D'Azur, South of France, August 30, 1978
Doug Anderson had moved to Europe in the summer of 1978 for work. His head office was in Geneva, but most of his time was spent in the south of France. He kept an apartment in Nice, 5
th
largest city in France, gateway to Italy and a hotbed of crime and corruption.
The Cote D'Azur was the playground of the rich and famous. Rock stars, Hollywood legends and faded European royalty all lived there. From Cannes to Monaco, there was always a party going on; and always a seamy undercurrent of criminality persisted. Smugglers, drug dealers, con men and prostitutes were everywhere.
Nice was its capital and for Doug, a transplanted Canadian from Montreal, it was a great place to be.
Doug was 6'3" tall blue eyed and blonde, with a trim body honed by years of competitive swimming. At the age of 27, he still swam to stay in shape and had a very impressive physique with broad shoulders, slim waist, and very strong legs. He was also the proud owner of a very large, fat 10-inch cock that the super tight jeans of the day did little to hide.
Doug was running low on condoms. He was going to stock up at the pharmacy in Place Messina but had noticed another one on a back street close to his apartment. It had the green cross indicating it was a pharmacy but on the entry door he noticed a sign saying "Martine Dussault Pharmacist-Homeopath"
This was not unusual in France, where homeopathy was an accepted practice. Pharmacists in France often made their own compounds and remedies and a homeopathic approach to pharmaceutical drugs was not unusual.
This pharmacy was odd in that it showed no signs of advertising. No gaudy displays of makeup or perfume, just rows and rows of shelving, clinical and white.
Doug eventually found the condom section on a bottom shelf in a corner. He was bending over trying to read the labels when he heard a polite cough behind him. He turned around to see a middle-aged woman who it seemed had been admiring his ass.
She was very good looking, well kept with immaculate hair and makeup. French women were like that. It was their revenge for their husband's serial womanizing. The husband would be out chasing skirts while the wife kept her looks, was always immaculately dressed and made sure her husband was aware that he had a better option at home.
"May I help you Monsieur?"
"Yes please. I'm trying to find a condom, but I can't find the right size."
"And what size would that be Monsieur?"
"Double XL."
"Of course, Monsieur, men always need that size."
"No really, I do need an extra-large condom." Doug said gesturing towards the bulge in his pants.
The pharmacist glanced down at his crotch, smirked and said, "Very well, let's see what we can do about you Double XL problem". She turned and walked to the back of the pharmacy. Doug followed admiring the sexy sway of her hips under her generic white lab coat.
She went behind the counter, pulled down a book and started leafing through it.
"Let us see, condoms, double XL."
"Lubricated please" Doug added.
"No, no lubrication. They use terrible industrial lubricants, very bad for you. I can make a much better one for you."
"That sounds interesting" Doug replied thinking of the possibilities.
"Ah, here we go. That size is a special order, I can have them by Saturday. How many would you like?"
"How about a dozen to start."
"Very well, come back Saturday at noon and I will have them for you."
"Thank You Madame."
"It's Mademoiselle, and you can call me Martine" she said, showing him her ringless left hand.
"Thank You Mademoiselle Martine, see you Saturday."
Saturday came and Doug, freshly showered and shaved arrived at the pharmacy promptly at 11:55. On the door he noticed that the Saturday closing time was noon. A pleasant coincidence?
He went to the counter at the back of the pharmacy and there was Martine, still looking very attractive despite her generic white lab coat.
"Ah, you have arrived in good time. We are about to close."
"Any luck with my order?" Doug asked.
"Yes, I have it right here. I just need you name and address please."
"My name is Douglas Anderson and I live just around the corner at 4 Rue Paganini 5
th
floor."
"But that is a hotel."
"Yes, I have the top floor apartment that I rent by the month."
"Very well Dooglas" she said, mispronouncing his first name as all French people did. "Come with me."
She packed the condoms and a jar of something into a paper bag and led him to the front door. At the door she handed him the bag and a set of keys.
"Turn left, take the first left and then left again into the alley. Down the alley you will find a blue door. This is the key to that door. Go upstairs and make yourself comfortable, I will be there momentarily."
"But...." Doug said with a quizzical look on his face.