Preface:
To bring my readers up to date, let me summarize the recent facts of my life:
At the time of this story, I had been living for over three years in a committed relationship with my partner Sylvie
, whom you may have met in my previous stories. I was 4 months pregnant by Sylvie's brother
Phillipe. Phillipe and his daughter had spent the week prior to our trip vacationing with us in St. Martin. Then all four of us flew to Lyon, France where the beginning of our trip included the wedding of Sylvie's cousin. Following a week in Lyon, Phillipe flew back to Atlanta leaving his daughter to spend three weeks with her French cousins while Sylvie and I had a vacation.
Lunch at Florence's
After Sylvie's cousin's wedding in Lyon, we slowly made our way to Paris in a rental car, spending most of the following week in central France. We stayed in small hotels and B&Bs, mostly in the Touraine and Berry regions, and visited the royal chateaux of the Loire valley. I had previously seen most of them as part of a summer job during University, when I served as a guide for Americans touring the valley on bicycles.
I had not had sex with Phillipe during the week he stayed with us in St. Martin, nor afterwards in Lyon. I told Sylvie that she was free to seduce any man that caught her eye while we were away, but no real candidate had presented himself. In any case this offer is always on the table when we are off-island. Sylvie had gone back on the pill, so any sex would be safe in that respect.
Other than two pass-through visits on the way to other places, I had not been in Paris proper in the almost nine years since university. Once installed at our hotel, we spent Friday and Saturday shopping, dining, and revisting familiar sites. The first afternoon we purchased a special strapon, which I have described in a previous story and which would turn out to have surprising uses later on.
I was keen to visit my old friend and lover Florence and, with some trepidation, to introduce her to Sylvie. Sylvie has always been jealous of any attachments between myself and other women, so allowing me to present her to a previous lover exhibited significant tolerance on her part. I had spoken to her about Florence and her brother Benoit over the years, so for once she let her curiosity overcome her reticence.
Florence and I had had a marvelous relationship for the first year and a half of my university career, but we had broken apart because of my bad behavior. Although I apologized years later and reconciled her to me, we never again were lovers nor had we the same degree of emotional rapport that was so beautiful in the beginning. Since my return to life in St. Martin, we speak at irregular intervals on the phone and exchang cards at New Years.
In a strange twist of fate, Florence, who when we met engaged primarily in lesbian relationships, had married, had a son, and was now faithfully heterosexual. I, to the contrary, had had mostly male lovers after her until Sylvie, and was now in a committed homosexual partnership. Since I was now four months pregnant, a fact which I had made known to Florence, we did have my prospective motherhood as a common link between us.
On Sunday we drove out to St. Germaine-en-Laye for lunch with Florence, her husband, and son. St. Germaine is a lovely suburb to the west of Paris, known principally as the birthplace of Louis XIV. They inhabit an elegant nineteenth-century
pierre-de-taille
building which houses five apartments. The family atmosphere was supposed to make Sylvie more at ease, and I had high hopes for a sweet introduction between two people I had loved so much. There was an incredible surprise awaiting us there in the presence of Benoit.
After introductions all around, Benoit filled us in, "I'm still living in Milan, but now I'm here in Paris on vacation for the next week. When Flo told me you were coming, I invited myself."
I asked, "I knew you were in Milan, and I heard you had a girlfriend or fiancée. Is she with you?"
"We split up a couple of months ago. She didn't like living in Italy and wanted to go back home to Avignon. Now I'm a poor
celibataire
again."
"Are you staying with your parents?"
"I'm in the apartment since last week. The parents are in Morocco for a month, so I'm back in my old room."
Florence pulled me aside to ask, "How do you like my 'surprise'?"
"It's wonderful. I don't think I would have known him had we passed on the street." Benoit and I had parted company on good terms a dozen years earlier. I had nothing against seeing him again, and in fact was quite pleased. At age thirty-two Benoit had matured into a really handsome, and sexy man.
We had a long lunch filled with small talk and "catching up." Everyone seemed to be interested in my pregnancy, and I identified the father only as a "good friend." Afterwards I helped Florence clear the table and wash up. Sylvie stayed in the salon to chat with Benoit and Florence's husband giving Florence and me time together to gossip.
She surprised me by asking, "Did you see how Benoit was flirting with Sylvie? And I think she was flirting with him too."
"No, I didn't notice, I was talking to you the whole time. But I'll tell you about our agreement. When we are away from home, any man we want is fair game, and no questions asked. That definitely doesn't apply to women though, so if I had been flirting with you she would have had a fit."
"That is very strange to my way of thinking. You are more courageous than I these days. Years ago I might have agreed with you about such things, but nowadays I'm not going to share my husband with anyone."
"How disappointing! Your husband is very attractive and I was hoping to share him with you," I teased. We laughed together giving me a warm feeling that we had recaptured in some small way that long-ago sense of sisterhood.
We all went for a stroll in the grounds of the chateau of St. Germaine. While I walked with Florence, and her husband and son chased the squirrels, Sylvie and Benoit strolled together behind us, talking and laughing. Yes, I did believe they were flirting, but as to which one was leading I couldn't say. Upon returning to the apartment and preparing to depart, I cornered Sylvie and asked, "What's up with Benoit? I think he's after you."
"He's very attractive, and he
has
been coming onto me. I'd be interested in a little
flirt
with him, but in this case I wouldn't dream of doing so without your consent."
I really had no objections and said, "It's fine with me. In fact, I would be amenable to joining in if that was to everyone's satisfaction."
"You are a mind-reader. I was going to suggest that very thing myself. I bet you'd like to see if he's changed over the years."
So we would be in a complot to seduce Benoit in the same way we had plotted against Marc earlier. [
