"Serena, viens ici ... dΓ©pΓͺche-toi!!"
"J'arrive, j'arrive!!"
That was my first time seeing her. It was in the transport museum near Niort. She was an exchange student staying with her French family. American, unmistakably American. Oh yes, I spot her the first time, quickly, very quickly. Just my type. Attitude, plenty of attitude and those eyes, yes, those eyes and that mouth of hers, chewing gum the way a young girl does and blowing small bubbles with it. She is dark skin and small, very small tits and 18. She arrives in the queue, taking her place with her French family just in front of me. The queue is not long, but it is a tight fit in the small ante-room. So tight that I could stand just behind her and smell her. Once she had gotten her bearings, she turned around, in the middle of blowing a bubble and smiled at me as it burst across her face. I smile back and it is all that I could do to contain myself from slipping my hands around her tiny waist and pulling her close against me. She stands next to a little girl, obviously her "correspondante", but there is no warmth between them. They merely tolerate each other's presence. Serena wears a very short skirt with the sort of ease that girls her age do.
The museum itself consists of 4 rows of cars dating from the earliest models to the latest concept designs and proto types. I am there, and not for the first time, to do a report on the museum for an auto magazine I sometimes produce articles for. Once I meet her however, all thoughts of my article are banished from my mind. The cars are arranged in three rows. The museum is a very long and narrow building and most people would start at one end and wander up and down the rows stopping here and there as a particular model caught their attention. I stay not too far from her, following her as she meanders in and out between one row and the other. She is probably mildly aware of my presence. At one stage, she bends down to examine a small label attached to one of the cars. As I pass her, my hand brushes lightly against her bum. She does not notice, or at least pretends not to notice. Further up, I repeat this little exercise. This time, my touch is a little stronger. Her bum feels taut and this time, she does look, but instead of reacting the way I expect, she smiles at me, a bright, welcoming, and inviting smile. She passes by me in the narrow passage and allows her hand to rub against mine. My heart rate increases so quickly. It feels almost ready to explode. Here, in the middle of a public space, I am flirting so outrageously with a young girl. It is trouble, she is trouble and how I love trouble so much. Her family "d'accueil" have no idea what is going on, thank God! Madame and monsieur have the stressed out look many parents have. Both would rather be elsewhere but have to tolerate this imposition on their lives as their own daughter will soon be flying back to America for her side of the exchange.
As this is not my first visit here, I was aware of the layout of the building. In the middle of the building there is a small gift shop and at the very top end, there were "les toilettes". What is unusual about this particular one was the fact that there are only two "cabinets" and two urinals and they are spaced very closely together. There is also a wash hand basin and a mirror. These toilets are unisex.
Madame and monsieur are occupied with their daughter Emilie and soon Serena is separated from them. As she drifts aimlessly from one car to the next, I spot her moving towards the toilets. At this end of the building, there are few if any people about. The coast is clear and I wait until she enters before following discretely. I open the door and see that one of the cubicles is occupied. I go over to the urinals as I hear her flush her toilet and I unzip. My cock is semi-hard. It is large, fat and feels hot as I hold it in my hand. My balls feel very full. I have not come for several days. Sometimes I need a certain stimulus to feel in the mood. Today, it is her. She is it. Today I will come and hopefully, it will be soon. I stand back a little from the urinal as she comes out. She cannot but see my cock as I hold it. Of course, it's all so perfectly okay! I'm in the toilet, same as her and I can stand there with my cock in my hand and have every right to do so and have a pretty girl stare at it!!
"Oh ... excusez-moi monsieur!!" she utters.
"C'est pas grave ma petite!" I answer back, "Ne t'en fais pas pour si peu!"
As Serena starts to wash her hands, I look away and start to finish but I hold it out and boy oh boy, does it feel good with that beautiful beautiful young girl just inches away from it! She is washing her hands so slowly. How long does it take a little girl to wash her hands? Serena is watching me, slyly, in the mirror as I finish up!! She is clearly see at my cock as I whisk it out of sight and replace it, with difficulty and great reluctance, into my pants. What greater feeling can a man experience that have a girl like Serena look at his cock? She finishes washing her hands and looks around for a towel. There isn't one here.