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.
