I wasn't sure what to say when I saw him, or if I should even say anything. It was so obvious though that he was a tourist in the city, lost in the sea of non-English speaking Parisians. It was late afternoon, and I was sitting outside a quiet little bistro, sipping wine, scribbling in my journal and enjoying the cool summer breeze. A casual glance up from my notebook as I took a sip from my glass, and there he was...
He was standing several metres away, examining street signs and comparing them against the map he held in his hands. He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping. He was casually dressed in typical 'urban tourist gear' - a simple t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, that served only to advertise just how thoroughly squeezable and tight his ass was!
I took a slow deep breath and unconsciously bit my bottom lip as my eyes settled on that perfectly formed ass, which for some strange reason I felt a sudden urge to bite. As my eyes feasted, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to sink my fingers into that fantastic ass of his as that ripped body lay on top of me and what those powerful arms would feel like wrapped around my naked body while he moved deeper and deeper inside me. I bit the corner of my lip harder and felt a tingling sensation in my nipples as I continued to stare at him.
I couldn't help but feel more than a little turned on staring at this gorgeous man. I had just been writing a rather racy entry into my journal when I looked up and noticed him. I'd been recalling my first week living in Paris. I had sat and drank wine with Jean-Luc at this very bistro. It was here, sitting at this very table, that I had discovered why they call it a 'French' kiss. He had looked into my eyes, and whispered the most wonderful things to me in French. He had caressed my cheek gently and lovingly with his fingertips, before brushing my lips gently with his. Softly, slowly at first, gently teasing my tongue with his; encouraging my tongue to seek his which it did. I melted into his kiss. That man made kissing into an art form! He sucked and teased my lips with his tongue. He slowly moved his tongue in and out of my mouth; caressing, searching and pumping - giving me a demonstration of what his cock wanted to do to my pussy. My pussy leaked and throbbed from those kisses. He devoured my lips and tongue with searing and scorching kiss after passionate kiss. I was sent to another world, totally aroused and completely at his mercy. I almost felt like I could've cum just from his kisses alone!
Later that night, when we made love, I came harder than I had ever cum before. His kisses and his sexy French accent had kept me close to the edge for so long. It was more than just his words and his kisses though, it was him and... and it was me, another me. It's difficult to describe, but he just...I just...I felt different with him. I felt freer somehow. I felt deliciously naughty too, and so very very sexy. I think it was partly the liberation of being in a foreign romantic country, speaking in a foreign tongue too and then being so patiently drawn out of my shell and seduced so expertly. He ignited a fire and a passion within me that I never knew I was capable of feeling. But that was nearly six months ago, and Jean-Luc had moved to Lyon since then to be married to another woman. I missed him, but I missed his kisses more. Sitting here, where we sat and kissed, sipping the same wine we drank...I could almost feel those kisses again. Almost!
I was snapped out of my daydream just as the attractive stranger's ass was removed from my view. I blushed as I realised that I had been blatantly staring at the attractive stranger's hypnotically-fantastic ass, which was especially embarrassing because the moment of realisation came just as he turned around and caught me! I quickly averted my gaze back down to my notebook, and took a long sip from my glass to try to hide my schoolgirl blush. I could feel my neck and cheeks redden as I watched him from the corner of my eye move towards me. The jig was up – I was most definitely caught!
"Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle." he said with a bad French accent, "eh...Parlez-vous Anglais?" I looked up at him, seeing his face clearly for the first time.
He was devastatingly handsome. I especially liked his square masculine jaw and crooked boyish smile. There was an air of mischief and confidence about that crooked grin of his, and that sexy raised eyebrow that was barely visible above his designer sunglasses. His dark brown hair looked just long enough to run my fingers through - and pull! He tilted his head down and looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses, our eyes caught for a split second and I thought I caught a slight glint of amusement in his eyes. Yep, he definitely knew that I was staring at his ass a moment ago! I stared at him, just taking him in. I realised that I still hadn't answered him.
"Em, sure ... yes, I... I speak English," I stammered as I sat up straighter and tried to bring myself fully back to reality - my throat suddenly going dry as I tried to speak to him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and his smile grew wider.
"Do you need help with something?" I asked, pointing to the crumpled map in his hand and smiling back up at him. He had such a sexy smile.
"Yes, yes Ma'am I do!" he blurted out and laughed slightly at his own predicament. "This is my first day in France, I am totally lost, and I don't speak a word of French! Er, may I?" I nodded as he gestured to the empty chair opposite me.
He dropped his bag down to the ground, and half- plonked himself down in the seat. He looked like he'd been walking around for hours and was finally relieved to be sitting down. A slight tinge of guilt tugged at my conscience; here was this poor guy, exhausted and totally lost in a foreign city and it was all I could do to keep my brain from imagining what his naked body would feel like pressed up against mine while I gripped his thick hard cock tightly with my throbbing pussy. I took a deep breath, closed my journal quickly and tried to look but not stare at this gorgeous guy sitting across this small but painfully familiar table from me.
He offered his hand to me, "I'm Tom, by the way." I smiled and took his hand. I was surprised by how small my hand felt in his, and how firm his grip was.
"Jane," was all I could say as I felt my heart racing a little from his touch - and from what my imagination told me this strong masculine hand would feel like firmly cupping and squeezing one of my breasts while his long fingers pinched my hardened nipples. I smiled again and tried to hide another blush, as imagination ran away with itself once again.
"Well, Jane, it is a pleasure to meet you" he said, releasing my hand and taking his sunglasses off, his piercing brown eyes meeting my gaze.
"I've been wandering around this city for hours hoping to find someone who speaks English, or at the very least a street name or a landmark or something, anything at all really that I could find on my map!" He placed his map and his sunglasses on the table and leaned in towards me, casually looking me over. I almost felt like I could feel his eyes caressing my skin. I was very aware of how hard my nipples had become, and of just how thin my cotton t-shirt was.
I smiled back, "Well I'd be glad to help you find your way, if I can. Where are you trying to get to?"
"I'm trying to get back to my hotel, La Grande...something, it's on rue de la fontaine."
He opened his map and showed me a pen mark on the page, indicating the location of his hotel. I studied his map for a moment, as the waiter came over to our table. Tom clumsily ordered a drink and moved his chair around closer to mine so that we could both look on the map. I could smell his subtle and manly aftershave as he leaned in closer to me. I felt myself become even more aroused at the warmth and the closeness of his body, but I tried to retain my focus on the map.
"Okay, there's your hotel and we're all the way over here," I said as I pointed to our location on the map and turned to look at his face.
As I turned, I noticed him staring at my cleavage as I leaned over the map. He suddenly shifted his gaze from my cleavage to the map, no doubt hoping that I hadn't noticed him looking at my breasts, or at the very least hoping that I didn't mind it too much. I blushed again and smiled, his face became very serious as he studiously examined the map. Hmmm, perhaps I shouldn't feel too sorry for staring at his ass earlier and thinking such lustful thoughts about him after all – perhaps he was having some similar ideas about me!
