French Connections

It was the most delicate of feather-like touches tracing the curve of my naked hip and upper thigh that stirred me gently from my slumber. The first of his soft angel-kisses, which he so delicately placed up along my back, caused my breath to catch in my throat. His touch was so gentle and so patiently erotic that I wasn't quite sure yet if I was awake or still dreaming. As he slowly pulled my hair back from my face and kissed my neck, I really didn't care which it was - all I knew was, if this was a dream, it was one I was certain I did not want to wake up from.

I was lying on my side, facing away from him as he mapped my curves so tenderly with his fingertips. I could feel the dampness intensifying between my legs, and unconsciously I spread them a little allowing him better access. It was the only movement I made at first. He stroked my inner thigh softly causing my pussy to moisten in anticipation of his touch, as he teased my inner thighs with his fingertips. I could feel the heat of his body so close to mine and so I instinctively pressed my ass back against his as my body responded to his touch. I could feel his hardening cock against my ass and I grinded against him more deliberately. His warm breath felt softly insistent at my neck as he nibbled my ear... his skilful fingers finally contacted my aching sex.

"Mmmnnn," I moaned softly.

The sound invaded the peaceful night, stirring my senses to a slightly more wakeful state. He stroked my lips, lubricating his fingers with my abundant juices in the process, before slowly circling my clit with his fingertips - sending tingles up my spine and down my legs as the longing in my groin intensified. My breathing became faster and shallower. I was still somewhere between awake and asleep when he dipped a finger inside of my waiting pussy. I moaned louder this time and writhed against his hand as he eased a second finger inside me. I turned my head to catch his lips with mine, in a deeply passionate kiss. I could feel his now quite hard cock pressing against my ass as he stroked his fingers in and out of me. I pumped my hips between his hand and his hard penis as he rocked and stroked his fingers inside me.

I was always amazed by how well this man could kiss! Even as his skilled fingers stimulated my pussy and his hard cock pressed against my ass, it was actually his kisses that triggered the most intense wave of shivers down my spine and I began to tremble in his arms. I reached my hand up to hold his head against mine, as his lips devoured mine.

He lifted my leg gently and adjusted his position slightly on the bed. I felt his cock move against my ass and graze my pussy. I shuddered as I felt it. His kissed me even more passionately than before and slowly began pumping his hips, allowing his cock to stroke my pussy. There is just something so electrifying about the sensation of a deliciously hard cock teasing some very moist pussy lips and a sensitized clitoris: I moaned, but my moan was consumed by his masterful kiss. I trembled and writhed against him.

As he kissed me, he began slowly pumping his tongue in and out of my mouth -- he was the only guy I kissed who had ever done that, I began to think of it as a trademark of his. Whenever he kissed me like this, there was only one thing I could think of: his cock in my pussy!

I reached down between my legs, and massaged his throbbing cock against my equally throbbing pussy as he slowly pumped his hips. A soft moan escaped my lips as his swollen head impacted my clitoris, and I ground myself harder against him. He bit my lower lip and growled as I finally guided him to my entrance. My pussy ached to feel him inside of me.

"I need you" I whispered huskily between his exquisite kisses.

"Je sais, j'ai besoin de toi aussi" he whispered back.

The effect of hearing that he knew my need for him, and that he needed me too, was amplified by his sexy French accent and his sexy French words. His lips treasured mine passionately again before he pushed his hips forwards and slid inside me...

"Unnnn" I gasped and moaned against his lips, my pussy instinctively gripping him as he stretched and filled me.

I pushed back into him, to meet his thrusts as he slowly pumped his hips against mine. He scooped his arm beneath my leg, and cradled my thigh within the crook of his elbow as his thrusts became deeper. I moved faster against him, urging him on. I trembled again as he fulfilled my silent requests and moved faster and harder inside me. My eyes fluttered closed and my body shuddered as I gripped him even tighter inside of me.

"Look at me," his breathless voice whispered to me from somewhere far away. I forced my eyes to open and look at him, but found it very hard to focus. I whimpered and shuddered as he fucked me and fought hard to hold his gaze as he moved so exquisitely inside me.

"Je t'aime, Jane... fuuuck," he struggled to retain his control as he thrusted even harder into me. My pussy clamping down around his cock, in preparation for my impending orgasm, "Je t'aime" he repeated. Such beautiful words, spoken at a beautiful time... when we were as close as we could be; 'Je t'aime' ... 'I love you.'

"I love you too, Jean-Luc" I replied, holding his gaze.

I held the back of his head gently and pulled him towards me to feast upon his lips. I hungrily and passionately devoured his lips and tongue. I wanted him, all of him. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could be. For the first time in my life, I was in love with a wonderful man who loved me back. It was one of the happiest and most memorable moments in my life.

He pulled out of me and broke our kiss for the briefest of moments, but a relative eternity nonetheless, as he shifted his position on me. He lay on top of me, covering me with his body, and thrusted back inside me again. He lips and tongue attacked mine with an intensity and ferocity that until then I had not thought Jean-Luc capable of. He was a considerate and passionate lover but there was something almost feral in the way he ravaged my body -- and I was loving every second of it!

I wrapped my arms and legs around his, as I responded to his fire with my own. He moved faster inside me, and harder... I had to break our kiss to steal a breath as he pounded my pussy harder and then harder still.

"Ohhhh... FUCK!" I shouted, after a particularly hard thrust. I arched my back and threw my head back into the pillow. Jean-Luc nipped my jaw and my neck, finding a certain sensitive spot on my neck just below my ear and kissing it roughly.

My arms left him as I reached for the carved wooden rungs in the headboard, gripping them so tight my knuckles went white and my hands actually hurt. I fucked my hips up into him as hard as I could as I struggled for breath and release. His thrusts were short and deep, and hard...

"Oh god .... OH GOD!" the words escaped my lips as my pussy held him even tighter as my whole body tensed beneath his. My back arched. My breathing temporarily halted. My mouth opened in a silent scream. I felt my pussy clench even tighter, like an exquisite vice around his hardness... and then... a stillness... followed by a tremble... and then a shudder... emanating from between my legs and spreading out over my whole body until my whole body shook as I came.

Jean-Luc thrusted almost frantically into my pussy and let out a low deep groan just as I felt the first of his spurts shoot deep inside of my quivering body. He rolled his hips as I tried to keep hold of his cock, as my now very sensitive pussy spasmed around him, as he finished coming inside me.

He collapsed beside me on the bed a moment later, both of us panting heavily trying to catch our breaths. Our eyes met, and we held each other's gaze. Words cannot describe how amazing I felt at that moment -- between the powerful orgasm I had just had and hearing that the man I loved tell me he loved me too... well, like I said, words can't describe that feeling; it was sheer and utter bliss!

"Je t'aime, Jane," he said as his eyes locked onto mine.

I grinned widely and replied without hesitation, "I love you too, Jean-Luc."

We stared into each other's misty eyes for a few moments. He brushed my hair back from my face and softly caressed my cheek. He kissed me slowly, but passionately, gently pulling me towards him in a warm and loving embrace. I loved being this close to him, feeling this connected to him. I loved the way he touched me too. It was always so focused, so delicate... a cautious exploration of my body. He was generally very thorough in his attentions, and explored my whole body -- from head to toe and everywhere in between. He sought to explore and know every part of me; beyond the standard boobs, ass and pussy that are all most guys are interested in. There was never anything 'wham, bam, thank you Ma'am' about the way he made love. He always made me feel beautiful, and precious and so special and loved. He told me once, just after we made love while we were still staring into each other's eyes basking in the afterglow, that my eyes weren't simply blue, they were 'plus speciale' (more special) in his opinion... "une melange de blue, vert et gris. Tres unique et magnificent!" (a mixture of blue, green and grey. Very unique and magnificent!)

Okay, so maybe he was just full of shit... just another silver tongued devilishly handsome heartbreaker -- but when I was with him, I didn't care! And I truly believed him when he said he loved me. He made me feel treasured and worshiped, and happier that I can ever remember feeling. And I did everything I could to make him feel the same way. I was loving, patient, attentive and from time to time even a little adventurous too -- and for all his tenderness when he made love, there was a hidden passionate beast sleeping within him that when awoken was a force to be reckoned with! When Jean-Luc fucked, he really fucked hard and showed no mercy... but then, neither did I.

We were so perfect for each other, in so many ways. He was the love of my life and I felt like the luckiest woman in this whole entire universe to have a love like this. How was I to know then how things would work out? Isn't it amazing how quickly life can change? That was the first time Jean-Luc and I had ever said 'I love you' and while it wasn't the last, it would only be another two blissful but all-too-brief months later that I would be cursing his name and doing all I could to get as far away from him as possible. That was the weekend we spent at the cottage...

*****

Jean-Luc's family had a small cottage about two hours drive east of Paris, in the Champagne region not too far outside of the city of Reims. It was an old cottage, nothing terribly fancy - in fact, if I'm being brutally honest, the cottage definitely could've used a bit of work! In fact, two out of the three bedrooms were in the process of being refurbished. But even so, I thought the cottage seemed enchanting nonetheless. From the photos I had seen of it, it reminded me of the cottage from a fairytale book I read as a child and I half-expected seven dwarfs with mining equipment to march out of the front door singing "hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go..." It was a truly charming cottage and it had so much history to it. Well, nothing you would be likely to read about in a school text-book or anything like that, but it had a lot of meaning for Jean-Luc and I loved hearing all the stories he told me about coming here as a child -- the summers and the occasional Christmas spent here with his family. I could almost picture him as a mischievous little brat, running around and getting up to no good with his older brother to the torment of his mother and father.

Our 'romantic' weekend to the 'fairytale' cottage got off to a bit of a shaky start though. Jean-Luc drove us there late one Thursday evening. We had both managed to take the Friday off work and the Monday was a national holiday anyway, so we had FOUR nights and FOUR days hidden away from the world together... just the two of us! However, what should've been a two hour drive at most, turned into a four hour nightmare when his car broke down about thirty minutes from the cottage. We had to wait several hours in the car for the tow-truck to arrive. The tow-truck driver fortunately was sympathetic to the plight of two young lovers escaping for a dirty weekend in the country and not only towed the car to a garage for us, but also gave us a lift to the cottage on his way. While the car breaking down was hardly a catastrophe, it did mean that we would be more or less stranded in this beautiful cottage all weekend alone together... hmmm, whatever would we do to pass the time?

After we got settled, unpacked the car, put the groceries we had taken with us away and said goodnight to our new best friend Gaston (the tow-truck driver); we kissed, and we held each other... and we made love... and we made love again... and again and again... and after about two days, we finally untangled ourselves from each other and decided to take a bike trip into Reims for the day.

We had a lovely morning being tourists in Reims. We visited the old cathedral and did some wine-tasting, well actually it was champagne tasting (it is what the region of Champagne is famous for after all). And actually, it wasn't so much 'tasting' as it was 'drinking'. What can I say? There's just something so vulgar and disgusting about spitting good champagne into a communal bucket, even a gold-plated one! I guess I'm just not 'French' enough to spit into the gold bucket, and besides swallowing is just so much more fun than spitting (and that comment doesn't refer exclusively to Champagne either!). Also, it's not like either of us were driving, not anytime soon anyway! While in Reims, Jean-Luc called the garage who told him that due to the holiday it would be at least afternoon on Tuesday before his car would be ready. We would be forced to spend another night together on vacation... what a tragedy!

After consuming a few glasses of champagne, and enjoying a delicious lunch, we parted company for an hour or so. Jean-Luc had a couple of 'mysterious' errands to run -- ones he didn't want to tell me about anyway. I thought it was a little peculiar that he didn't want to tell me where he was going, but I didn't press the issue. We all need a little privacy and space from time to time, after all. I had spotted some tacky souvenir shops that I wanted to visit anyway, which I know Jean-Luc would've hated so it was the perfect opportunity for me to go browse the novelty cork-screws and mugs and buy something silly and slightly overpriced. In the end, despite all the shiny trinkets on offer, all I bought was a cute metallic key-ring in the shape of a Champagne bottle. There was nothing particularly special about it, and perhaps it was a little bit tacky but I liked it nonetheless. I knew that it would always remind me of my trip here whenever I looked at it. As soon as I got outside the shop, I took my keys out of my pocket and put my new key ring on the bunch - pinching my finger in the process and dropping my keys.

"Fuck!" I flinched and instinctively sucked the side of my finger where I had pinched. "Damn rings!" I exclaimed, before smiling apologetically at the elderly Japanese couple browsing in the souvenir shop window for my colourful outburst. They threw me a dirty look, before turning their attention back to the shop-window. "Fine, be like that then" I said under my breath and shrugged, before picking up my keys and leisurely starting to stroll back to meet Jean-Luc. I passed by a jewellery shop on my way back and decided to do a little bit of window shopping of my own.

Now, I'm not usually the kind of girl who is easily distracted by shiny things but there really were some fabulous necklaces on display in the jewellery shop window and my sister's birthday was coming up... so basically, I had both motive and opportunity to shop (otherwise known as a good excuse and a few minutes to spare!) Even though there was probably nothing I could easily afford for her here, I decided to have a wander inside anyway and browse a bit more. I was just about to enter the shop when I glanced up and spotted a familiar face through the window.

Jean-Luc was in there, talking with the pretty assistant behind the counter. He examined the contents of a little black box she handed him. I couldn't see what was inside it. Whatever it was, he seemed very pleased with it. He nodded appreciatively and handed it back to her but then he suddenly seemed to change his mind and quickly pointed at something else under the glass counter, almost as an afterthought. He looked at his watch, and got kind of flustered and tried to hurry the assistant up. I checked my watch, and it was no wonder he was getting flustered, he was supposed to have met me in front of the cathedral a couple of minutes ago. I didn't want him to know that I was 'accidentally' spying on him, or that I had lost track of the time as well and was also late, so I immediately left and headed to our meeting point.

I didn't see what he bought in the end, but whatever it was he was buying in there, it was obviously something I was not supposed to know about. The only reason I could think of for this was that he wanted to buy me something as a surprise. I mean, why else would he not tell me where he was going? If it was a gift for his mother or his sister, surely my opinion would be valued enough to ask me to accompany him or at the very least it would hardly be something he would want to hide from me? No, the only thing that made sense was that he was trying to surprise me. I would just have to be as patient as possible and wait for my surprise, whatever it may be...

As I waited outside the Cathedral for him, I couldn't help but imagine what he might have bought me in the jewellery store. I was getting kind of excited thinking about it. Was it a necklace, some earrings or...

No, surely not! Not after only three months? Although, we were deeply in love... and we told each other so all the time. We spent as much time as possible together, even though lately that wasn't an awful lot. He was under pressure at work and I had my own deadlines at the Institute to concern myself with recently. That's why this weekend was so special, and was such a lovely idea of his to get away by ourselves for a few days. Three and a bit months is hardly enough time though to get to know each other enough to even begin to consider marriage!

Suddenly I felt my stomach knot and I started feeling dizzy. I really was hoping it was not an engagement ring. The idea was exciting and wonderful in one sense, but terrifying in another. It was just too soon. It wasn't a ring. I kept telling myself that I was being silly, it wasn't a ring... he did not just buy me a ring! And besides, I didn't even know for sure that he did buy me anything at all!

My head was swimming, so I sat on the step of the cathedral and took a few deep breaths. The champagne from earlier may have been getting to me, or it could've been the sudden realisation that I was waiting outside a cathedral for a man who may or may not have just bought an engagement ring for me. Even though I was sitting in a wide open space, all of sudden I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic...

"Jane, Cherie, are you okay?" I hadn't seen him approach, but there he was... standing over me and looking concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little dizzy." I said meekly, looking up at him and trying my best not to appear nervous or guilty (I did technically spy on him after all).

"Here, take some water." Jean-Luc commanded as he sat down next to me and handed me a bottle of water from his backpack. He put his arm around me and a shiver ran down my spine. Not the good kind of occasional pre-orgasm shiver, it was more the 'spider-senses-tingling' sort of 'someone just walked over my grave' type of shiver. It was weird, I can't explain it. At the time, I just dismissed it as a side-effect of my little dizzy spell and the situation at the time. A few weeks later however, with the help of Oprah (courtesy of internet-TV and my upcoming depression), I would identify it for it was really was -- a warning. I felt that something wasn't right, but I just ignored it and put it down to my own overactive imagination, too much champagne and not enough water. But seriously, how could I have known then what would fall out of his backpack later on that night or what exactly he would eventually confess to after I found it!?