The Exchange Student 18

Disclaimer:

All characters portrayed in this story are all of consenting age. All sexual activities depicted are consensual.

In addition, my apologies to any French readers about my use of the French language in this story. I tried my best. 😳

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"Come on Matty, we're going to be late." Becca whined, as she stood by the front door, her hand pulling on the door handle.

"Alright, alright, I'm just putting my shoes on."

I sat on the stairs, frantically tying my shoelaces.

"Come on, her flight lands in an hour."

"Okay, okay, I'm done."

Becca threw my car keys at me and opened the front door.

We hurried into the car and hastily made our way to the airport.

As part of Becca's senior year of high school, she had opted to take French as a second language. Part of her course involved, what the school called a 'cultural exchange experience'.

Unfortunately for Becca, she missed her opportunity to go to France due to a passport delay, but there was still the opportunity to accomodate a French student for a couple of weeks.

With our mom working, I got roped into picking her up from the airport. Now, here we were, speeding down the highway in a frantic attempt to get there on time.

To pass the time, I turned on the radio, but Becca quickly took control, switching it to the station she preferred.

"Hey! I was listening to that."

"Your taste in music is so lame."

"I don't care, my car, my radio. Now turn it back. Let's not forget who is doing the favour for who here, Becca."

Becca huffed, and grudgingly turned the station back to what I liked.

"You better not be this much of a douche when Camille's around."

I rolled my eyes at her comment. Becca and I couldn't have been more different--like chalk and cheese. She had a big mouth and loved the sound of her own voice, while I was quiet and reserved.

For the rest of the journey to the airport, Becca buried her head in her phone, which suited me just fine--it kept her from annoying me.

When we finally reached the airport, it was just in the nick of time. We had to sprint most of the way to make it to the arrivals gate before she showed up.

We joined a crowd of people waiting for arrivals. Becca boldly barged her way to the front, and I did my best to follow, collecting a series of dirty looks and disapproving tuts along the way.

Now standing at the front, Becca held out a homemade sign, with Camille's name on it and held it above her head. We watched as passengers began pouring through the gates, carrying their luggage.

A group of teenagers appeared, and that's when we saw her. Camille seeing her name, waved in our direction and ran over. She was strikingly beautiful, her chestnut wavy hair, framed her heart shaped face. She wore a light denim jacket and a low cut white top, that drew yours eyes immediately into her cleavage.

"Becca?"

"Oui, oui, Camille, bonjour," Becca replied, in a very suspect French accent.

"Ah, Bonjour."

Camille kissed Becca on each cheek, she then looked at me.

"Oh, Mon frère - Matthew," Becca said pointing at me.

"Bonjour, Matthew."

She kissed me on both cheeks, like she did with Becca.

I felt my cheeks go red, I wasn't used to being kissed, especially by someone this attractive.

"CAN - I - TAKE - YOUR - BAGS?" I said, loudly and simplifying each word.

"God, Matty, you're so embarrassing, she speaks English, and she's not deaf."

"You didn't tell me that, Becca." I said feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Camille interrupted us, "Ah, Thank you Matthew, that's very kind of you."

The way she said my name, and that accent of hers, I could listen to it all day.

I took her luggage, and we made our way back to the car. The two girls walked ahead of me, while I folllowed behind.

I couldn't help but notice Camille's very shapely backside. I felt guilty just looking at it.

When we finally reached the car, I popped the trunk and placed her bags inside.

"Merci, Matthew. I'm lucky to have such a strong American boy to help me, non?" Camille said quickly looking me up and down, then smiling and then touching the side of my bicep.

I blushed at the compliment.

We got into the car. Becca sat in the passenger seat, while Camille was in the back.

As I reversed out of our spot, I looked in the rear-view mirror, but all I could see was her pretty face smiling back at me.

On the journey back, the girls chatted back and forth, their conversation a lively blend of English and French. As they talked, I couldn't help but steal glances at Camille every so often in the rear-view mirror.

When we got back home, I unloaded the bags from the car and carried them upstairs to Becca's room, where Camille would be staying. Meanwhile, Becca introduced Camille to our mom.

Later that evening, after Camille had settled in, Mom prepared a special welcome dinner in her honor. It was the kind of meal that required us to sit at the kitchen table, a break from our usual habit of eating in front of the TV.

I sat next to Mom, with Camille seated directly across from me and Becca beside her.

We were talking over dinner, or more like they were talking over dinner, while I listened. The dinner conversation, then somehow turned to boyfriends. Becca asked Camille if she had one and what the French boys were like. Then unexpectedly, Camille brought me into the conversation.

"So, Matthew, do you have a girlfriend?" Camille asked in that delectable French accent of hers.

Before I could answer, Becca snorted.

"What? Matty, the twenty-year-old virgin over there. Yeah right!"

"Becca! be nice to your brother." My mother scolded her, before adding, "I'm sure Matty will find someone in his own time, right Matty."

"Well, at least I'm not the school bike, everyone gets a ride - right Becca?" I said, as I shot Becca my most menacing death glare after her attempt to humiliate me infront of Camille.

"Mom!" Becca cried out.

"Matty! Don't be so crude. I'm so sorry Camille. They're not normally like this," My mom said apologetically.

Between Becca's cruel jibe and my mother's embarrassing attempt not to make me sound like a loser, while making me sound exactly like that. I just wanted the world to swallow me whole.

Camille attempted to resume the conversation.

"Non, I don't believe that Matthew, no girlfriend." She said giving me a coy smile.

"Jeez, Camille, did you leave your glasses at customs or what." Becca said under her breath.

At that point, I had just about enough of Becca's barbs, and was about to get up from the table, when I felt a foot rub against my leg. It moved from my ankle and slowly up my calf.

I immediately froze in place. I thought for a moment, this was Becca's failed attempt to kick me in the shins, but Camille shot me another coy smile, as she turned to face Becca as if nothing was happening underneath the table.

Was Camille playing footsie with me under the table? I think she was, and she was playing it very cool.

My anger at being mocked subsided and I let whatever was happening play-out, until we all eventually finished dinner. I excused myself and went to my room.

When I thought about it again, I had convinced myself that I imagined it. Perhaps she had some sort of nervous tick or restless leg, I mean we had only just met a few hours ago, surely, she couldn't be this direct, could she?

- # -

The next day, the girls headed out, with Becca eager to show Camille around the local area and take her to the mall. I figured she wanted to give her a taste of true Americana. They were gone for most of the day.

I however, spent the day in the house. I was at that stage of my life, where I had finished high school, but not yet started college, so there wasn't much going on. I found myself dwelling on Becca's mockery of my virginity. She knew exactly what buttons to press and could be quite cruel with it.

Being a virgin at twenty was a deep source of insecurity and embarrassment for me. I had convinced myself that everyone else was having sex, except me. It was even worse knowing that my younger sister had more notches on her bed post than I did.

I held out the hope, that when I go to college, things will be different, but who was I kidding. Even if I did find someone willing to sleep with me, chances are they'd have a lot more experience than me.

The girls returned for dinner, and once again we ate at the kitchen table. Becca and Camille talked about their day and how much fun they had, showing us the photos they took on their phones.

I had just put a fork full of mashed potato in my mouth, when I suddenly felt a foot slide up my leg. It went higher this time, a lot higher. I felt the tip of Camille's foot rub against my crotch. Her directness caught me off guard and I jolted upright.

"Matty, are you okay?" Mom asked.

I faked a cough, "Sorry, food went down the wrong way."

I stared at Camille, who was nonchalantly eating her food as if nothing happened.

She continued to rub her foot against my crotch, which as expected got me a massive erection.

Suddenly, my mother asked, "Could you get me a glass of water please, Matty?"

I panicked.

"Um, I can't right now mom," I said, knowing full well, that something else standing up, was preventing me from doing the same.

"Why not?" My mom continued to press.

I had to quickly think of an excuse.

"Cramp. I've got a cramp in my leg." I said feigning pain.

"Oh, okay," she said, then turning to Becca. "Becca honey, can you get me a glass instead."

"Sure, mom," Becca replied, while giving me a strange look as she got up from the table.

Camille eventually stopped, for which I was massively grateful for. The way she was going, I would have jizzed in my briefs.

When things calmed down and my boner subsided, I excused myself and went to my room.

Okay, so there was no mistaking it this time. Camille was definitely up to something, and it was making me horny as hell. That night, I found myself having a much-needed jerk off session under the covers. My sexual frustration was bad before, but now, it had hit new heights.

Over the next few days, the secret foot action continued under the table. I wanted to say something to her, but I could never get her on her own, Becca was always with her.

This however would soon change.

- # -

Today was laundry day, and I was in the basement doing my laundry. As such, I was dressed in an old t-shirt and sweat shorts. I was busy folding, when I heard the basement door open and someone coming down the stairs.

"Mom?" I called back.

It wasn't mom, it was Camille and she was carrying a basket of clothes.

"Bonjour, Matthew. Your mother told me I could wash my clothes."

Camille walked over to me and rested the basket of clothes on top of the dryer.

"Of course. The detergent is on the shelf and just turn the dial here when you're ready."

"Merci."

Camille leaned over the washing machine, to grab the detergent from the shelf. She was wearing tight black leggings, which hugged and accentuated her round ass and it looked spectacular.

Opening the washing machine door, she crouched down.

"Could you pass me my clothes please, Matthew?"

"Sure."

I wanted to say something to her now, but I couldn't get the words out.

I began handing her clothes from the basket, one by one, passing them to her. When I reached the bottom of the pile, the only item of clothing left was a black thong. I stared at it briefly, wondering if I should pick them up. The very thought of her wearing them was turning me on so much.

I grabbed them and passed them to her. As she took it out of my hand, she looked back at me and winked.

"You like these, Matthew?"

Flustered by the question, I tried to respond in a way that didn't make me sound like a creepy pervert, "Um, ah, yes."

Camille placed them in the washer and closed the door.

When she stood up, she did so right in front of me, forcing me to back into the dryer.

She looked directly at me; her eyes locked on to mine and gave me a sultry look.

"Merci, Matthew."

With that, she placed her hand over my crotch and gently rubbed up and down. My cock becoming hard immediately.

I tried to speak, "Camille, I..."

"May I?" She asked softly.

I wasn't exactly sure what she was asking permission for, but all that sprung to mind was the response, "Oui."

She gave me a cute smile, then slipped her hand under the waistband of my sweat shorts, into my underwear and slid it down until she gripped my now very erect member.

I took a sharp intake of air, then blurted out, "Oh god!" My hands grabbing on to the dryer behind me.

Camille giggled at my outburst.

"Mmm, It's so big. You like this?"

I nodded, "Uh huh."

With her free hand she pulled down my shorts, so the waistband was tucked under my balls, forcing my cock to stick out horizontally.

Her soft, warm hands gently started to tug on my cock, slowly pulling my foreskin back behind my swollen purple head and then up again. It felt absolutely amazing. Suddenly changing pace, she started to go faster, I could feel I was getting close, when Becca shouted down the stairs.

"Camille, you down there?"

Camille quickly stopped what she was doing and stepped away from me. Leaving me hanging on the precipice of an almighty orgasm. I quickly tucked myself back into my shorts.

"There you are," Becca said coming down the stairs.

"He's not being weird, is he?" Becca asked.

"Non, he has been helping me with my laundry."

I quickly grabbed the stack of folded clothes from the dryer, strategically holding them in front of the unmistakable tent that had formed in my shorts.

"I'll leave you girls to it then."

"Merci, Matthew."

I quickly hurried up the basement stairs, then up to my room, throwing the neatly folded clothes on to the bed and disappearing into the bathroom, desperately in need to finish what Camille had started. It took literally seconds, before I was shooting thick ropes of cum into the toilet basin. I stood there for a moment, staring down, my cock looking angry and slowly going soft.

With that taken care of, I washed my hands and returned to my bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed, next to the heap of clothes I threw down earlier.

What the actual fuck was going on here? Why is Camille doing this to me? Was it a French thing? and if so, I was totally moving to France.

Just being around her was making me so horny. Not knowing what she was going to do next, made my heart pound in my chest. I just wanted her so badly. If I were to lose my virginity, I really did hope it was with her. It felt like I had a real chance to lose it, finally. I just couldn't work out how it would happen.

- # -

The next day, Becca and Camille had made plans to go out with some of Becca's school friends. With mom at work, it was just the three of us. I was watching TV in the living room and the girls were getting ready to leave, when Camille complained that she was not feeling too good all of a sudden.

I overheard Becca sympathetically offering to cancel the get-together and stay home with her, but Camille insisted she go and enjoy herself. Camille assured her she'd be fine spending the day resting in bed.

"Well, if you're sure Camille."

"Absolument, go enjoy yourself."

"Well, okay then. If you need anything, just ask Matty, okay."

Even though I had overheard most of their conversation. Becca informed me that Camille was unwell and if I could keep an eye on her.

Becca and Camille said their goodbyes, and Becca left the house to meet her friends and Camille turned to go up the stairs.

When the programme I was watching finished. I decided I'd better go up and check on Camille to see how she was feeling and if she needed anything.

I knocked on Becca's bedroom door and waited for an answer. There was no answer, but the door unlocked. Assuming it was okay, I pushed the door open.

Camille was standing in the middle of the room, wearing Becca's robe.

"How are you feeling Camille, is there anything I can get for you?"

Camille dropped her shoulders and the robe instantly fell to a heap on the floor.

My jaw dropped as a very naked Camille was standing in front of me. My eyes didn't know where to look first. The gentleman in me thought to look away, but she obviously wanted me to see her.

I stared at her shapely figure, her perfect breasts first, then my eyes drifting lower to see her shaved mound. I had seen naked women from porn, but not one in the flesh and definitely not as close as Camille.

"Holy, shit!" I uttered out.

"What took you so long, Matthew?"

"I, ah, uh, huh?"

"You're funny," Camille said laughing.

Camille then pounced onto the bed, "Come, join me," and patted the space next to her with her hand.

Like a siren, she was impossible to resist. I found myself closing the door behind me and walking to the bed and nervously sitting down.

Not usually one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I had to know, I don't know why, but I felt compelled to ask.

"Camille, before this goes any further. I have to ask, why me?"

"Why you? Hmmm, I think you're cute and sexy I haven't had sex since I left France and I'm so horny.

Well, that was as good an answer as any, I suppose.

"So, is it true, you are a virgin, oui?"

I stared down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Yes. It's true."

"So, I better make it unforgettable, non?"

"So, it doesn't bother you?" I asked.

"Pourquoi, um, why would this bother me?"

"I don't know, don't girls prefer a guy with experience."

"You think too much," Camille poked her finger into my head.

"Let's just have fun. Come."

Camille crawled behind me, draping herself over my back as her lips brushed against my neck. Her hands slid down the front of my body with deliberate intent.

When she reached the hem of my t-shirt, she gripped it and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor. Her fingers traced their way back up my chest, stopping to gently pinch my nipples, sending a shiver through me.

"Come, lie down Matthew."

I pulled myself onto the middle of the bed, where Camille's eager hands, found their way to my trouser button. She popped it open, pulling the sides apart, before quickly pulling both my trousers and underwear down to my knees.

"Mmm," she whispered, biting her bottom lip as her eyes lingered on my cock, then let out a playful giggle.

Camille was extremely keen to get me naked. I helped with the last part, removing my clothes fully.

She crawled on top me, and we started to kiss. They weren't little pecks, but passionate, lip squashing kisses. Her tongue exploring every inch of mine. I can see why they decided to name the kiss after the French, because she was an amazing kisser.

The feel of her skin on mine was electric, my skin instantly reacted, getting goosebumps. Her breasts pushed into my chest as our hands began to explore each other's bodies.

This was finally happening, the moment I had fantasised of so many times. I was finally about to have sex.

I couldn't believe how hot this was, Camille was practically feral. Her kisses moved from my lips, onto my neck, then eventually moving her way down my body. My cock twitched in anticipation, knowing that her lips were moving closer and closer.

When she reached my groin, she lifted her head up and looked directly at me as she then ran her tongue along the length of my cock. When her tongue reached the top, she quickly took me in her mouth and began to suck. She tucked her wavy hair behind her ear, allowing me full sight of her sucking me off.

Holy shit. The sensation of her tongue, combined with the warmth and wetness of her mouth around my cock, was out of this world. But watching it happen took the experience to another level--it felt like I was starring in my own personal porno.