It had been eight months since Jennifer quit her job in Minneapolis and moved to Paris to become a dancer. And during those eight months, she'd questioned her decision more than once. She had a great job in Minneapolis, and while economic analysis could be dry, the pay was good and the career path was promising. Now she was living on a shoestring in Paris. What made the whole situation even more iffy was her age. Jennifer was soon going to turn 35. Still young for life, but practically ancient by dance standards. Sometimes she wondered whether the move had all been nothing more than a last desperate attempt to stave off responsibility a while longer. Sometimes she feared her fellow dancers looked at her as a little sad and pathetic.
Those were the thoughts in her head. But in reality, Jennifer had a lot going for her. She had the kind of lithe, athletic body any prospective dancer would die for, and her face was an angel's, topped by naturally wavy honey-colored hair. She had the gifts. But everyday she worried whether she'd let them go unused for too long.
Her personal life didn't allay her anxiety. Since moving to Paris she'd had a couple dates. But they were with men of indistinct Old World heritage who saw in her an older, hotter version of the American backpacker adrift in Europe. Somehow, getting groped by a drunken date on the Paris subway was not her idea of romance. Too bad , really, because now more than ever, Jennifer craved companionship. Instead, she spent most nights in her little flat, drinking tea and studying French.
That's why she was so excited when she heard Becky was coming to Paris for the summer. Many years earlier in Minneapolis, Jennifer used to babysit Becky and her older sister. Jennifer grew to really love the girls. Maybe Jennifer was especially open to that kind of love because she never had a loving family of her own. Her father died when she was young, and her mother and stepfather were materialistic and self-absorbed. Sometimes, all those many years ago, it seemed like Becky and her sister were the only real family Jennifer had. For all these reasons, Jennifer walked around Paris with new energy in the weeks awaiting Becky's arrival.
The day finally came for Jennifer to meet Becky at Orly airport. She was nervous. After all, it'd 10 years since she'd last seen Becky. What would she look like? Would she think I'm old? Would she no longer worship me like she used to when she a little kid and I was her loving care giver? All these thoughts ran through her mind as she waited for Becky's face to emerge from the sea of travelers. The worries vanished, though, when Becky appeared. Young and fresh and beautiful, the 18 year-old ran into Jennifer's arms, holding her tight, kissing her cheeks and forehead. The girl's natural and unrestrained affection felt like rain to Jennifer's parched soul.
Becky's first week in Jennifer's little apartment was like heaven for Jennifer. During the day, Jennifer would go to her dance classes with renewed hope. In the evening, she'd come home to the apartment and she and Becky would make dinner and go for a walk around the Montmartre neighborhood. Jennifer's only concern was making sure Becky enjoyed her summer in Paris. After all, Becky's parents had entrusted their young daughter to Jennifer not just to safeguard, but also to expand Becky's life experiences. So while Jennifer worried some about making sure Becky was exposed to Paris life, her concerns in that regard were lessened by Becky's easygoing personality. It seemed all Becky wanted to do was spend time with Jennifer, going for walks, holding hands in the park, cooking meals. In short, just being together. This made Jennifer's life easier, since money was tight. Even better, it suited Jennifer perfectly. After quitting her old life and moving to France, Jennifer's life had been a chaotic mess. The happy domesticity she shared with Becky was just what she needed.
As the weeks passed, Jennifer found her old love for Becky growing. Sure, some of the maternal instincts she'd experienced years earlier with Becky and her sister still existed. But now, Jennifer's feelings were more complicated. Becky had grown up. She was a beauty with long thin legs, beautifully-shaped breasts and a neck that begged to be stroked and kissed. Jennifer's awareness of Becky's charms coincided with other developments in Jennifer's life. For the past several years, Jennifer found herself increasingly attracted to women.
Before she left Minneapolis, she had a lusty fling with a female co-worker at American Express Combined with the knowledge that she'd soon be quitting her job and country, Jennifer's sexual antics had become brazen back home. She and Amelia would slip into the bathroom at work for quick make out sessions, some of which Jennifer left with the taste of Amelia on her fingers and tongue. On summer evenings, Jennifer and Amelia would find isolated hideouts in the park around Lake of the Isles, and grope each other. During those sessions, Jennifer was shocked to discover how responsive she was to Amelia's tongue on her throat. How excited she became when Amelia would stick her thin little hand down Jennifer's jeans to tease Jennifer's sex. In the weeks before Jennifer left Minneapolis, the girls' lust had become such that they'd go to late-night movies at Uptown Theater, where they'd slip into the dark back rows of the balcony and finger each other's pussies while the patrons around them sat oblivious to their lust.
