Betsy and I went to London on the train to obtain passports for our trip. While there I bought her several new outfits. "I have a motive behind my wishes to have you travel as a companion. We can stay in the same room, and you will be treated as my equal. You have earned that." I told her as we shopped in one of London's finest shops. I did not want her to travel with me as a servant, but as a companion. She was thrilled by the thought.
"I shall try to make you proud of me, Mistress," she said, tears in her eyes.
Weeks later, and a train ride, and we reached Portsmouth to board the train ferry to Havre, France. When we reached France it was foggy, but as the train to Paris rocked on its way, the weather cleared, and we sat at the window watching the beautiful countryside slip past. I had been to France once before, but it was the first trip for Betsy.
She was enthralled by the whole prospect, particularly going to Paris. Everyone had told us to be sure and see the Eiffel Tower. I had seen illustrations in magazines but it was supposed to be a marvel of sight and engineering. We reached Paris after dark, hailed a handsome, and the driver took us to one of the new modern hotels in the middle of Paris. The hotel was an imposing structure inside and out.
We registered and were whisked to our floor in a quiet smooth elevator. Betsy held my hand tightly as this was her first elevator ride. Our room was beautiful, huge and opened onto a balcony. After our steamer trunk was delivered, we hung our clothes in the closet, then went down to the dining room. We had a small lunch on the train, but were both hungry now.
Several men turned to look at us as we entered. Betsy looked stunning in her new clothes. We had both picked outfits that showed off our figures, particularly our bosoms, nothing vulgar, but a generous swell of our flesh. I let the waiter select our first meal in Paris, and he did a splendid job of it. Betsy was awed by the hotel and the food. I had to gently remind her that she was a lady now, and should act restrained.
She quickly reigned in her excess enthusiasm, but spent the whole meal with a large grin on her face. We had several handsome men come to our table to try and engage us in conversation, and twice waiters brought us bottles of champagne from admirers at other tables. I sent them back with our regrets.
As soon as we got to our room, we went into the bathroom and discovered that they had a bidet, a shower, a new invention, and a large bathtub. Betsy was fascinated by the bidet, she had never seen one. I showed her how it worked. She had to try it, squealing with delight when the warm water gushed against her cunny. She let is gush against her clitty, and became very excited.
Weary and dirty from our train ride, we got under the shower at the same time, and enjoyed the hot water streaming down on us. We took turns washing each other's bodies, and our fingers slipped down and we brought each other off. Clean, we slipped on our gowns and opened the doors onto the balcony. The night air was wonderful, and from it we could see the Eiffel Tower, lit up beautifully. We stood together, and Betsy slipped an arm around me, hugged me and thanked me over and over.
We kissed and went back into the room. The bed was huge, and we undressed and lay together naked. Our passions arose again, and we made love to the sounds drifting up from the streets below. Her sweet body never seemed more alive. Her touches drove me to new heights of passion. When we came, we made no effort to stifle our cries of passion. This was Paris, City Of Love.
The next day, Betsy and I went to the bank, to attend to Auntie's business. We were expected, and ushered into the managers office immediately. Betsy was introduced as my associate. She sat quietly and listened intently to every word. I explained some of the terms and meaning of the transactions to her as we went.
Finally, our business done, the manager thanked both of us and ushered us out in grand style. Auntie's considerable money meant a great deal to the bank. Outside, Betsy asked several question that showed she had listened, and understood some of the dealings. As we walked the streets I schooled her somewhat in the banking vernacular. She drank up every word.
We went back to the hotel to leave off the business papers, and to change into less staid clothes. I had impressed on her the importance of the proper dress when doing business. We dressed in simpler clothes, and sensible walking shoes.
In the lobby the desk clerk helped us set up an afternoon itinerary, and offered to obtain a reliable guide for us. We agreed. Without our asking, he soon had a lovely Parisian lady of perhaps forty as our guide. We both were delighted by Jeanne. She was lovely, witty, cleaver, and knowledgeable, and we were off in a carriage to tour Paris. Betsy and I both delighted in her Parisian accented English. I can speak French fluently, but out of difference to Betsy spoke mostly English. Jeanne was a delight to be around. Our first stop was the Eiffel tower.
The elevator took us up and we looked out over the storybook Paris, spread before us. Jeanne pointed out landmarks. Betsy was afraid at first to move close to the rail, but soon, her natural curiosity had her looking down at the tiny people below. We ate in the wonderful restaurant in the tower.
We took in the cathedrals, museums and art shops. It seemed every where we went, someone knew Jeanne, and seemed delighted to see her again. We ate desert in a sidewalk cafe and drank wine that Jeanne suggested. Betsy and I both became a little tipsy, and our hand holding, and subtle caresses did not go unnoticed by Jeanne.
"You two lovely ladies are lovers, oui?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye.
We both giggled and I'm sure colored a little.
"In Paree, this is smiled on. Women, know how to please women. A Frenchman will kill, if he finds his wife with another man, but if he finds her with another women, -" she paused eyebrows lifting , "he wishes to join them." She finishing with a delightful laugh. "Many men have wives and mistresses, and many wives have husbands and mistresses."
"Jeanne, you are very perceptive." I said suddenly trusting this open, lovely woman. "I am new to the arts of Sappho. While we are in this city of love, I would like to learn more about it. Betsy and her friend have taught me quite a bit about this love, but I know Parisians could teach us both more about the gentle art. Do you have any suggestions?"
