Saturday in Paris

©

August 2021 PennameWombat

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is my entry for the Literotica Summer Lovin' 2021 contest. It's a simple, stand-alone tale of two people who meet in circumstances that might be considered familiar, but in these not-so-simple times, not quite so. I hope you enjoy my story.

Tags: Summer Lovin, Anal sex, Cum Swallowing, Exhibitionism, Older woman, Outdoor, Pussy eating, Straight sex, Teasing, Young man

*****

Arrivals

"Huh?" He'd caught the smiling face with the bright if slightly tired eyes, hair not brown and not blonde in an updo with a few stray strands around the face. He'd felt the touch on his hand and arm. But nothing more. The Arrivals Hall crowd that jostled and grumbled and moved like an ungainly beast had swallowed her. He blinked. He wasn't short but not tall enough to have an unobstructed three-sixty view.

Besides, the body that owned that pretty face was maybe an inch or so shorter than him so she'd be well hidden. He knew flight crew usually had express lanes to get them through immigration and probably a bus with her crewmates waited. But he was still slightly disappointed in the rushed and barely-there encounter. Combined with the soda that had soaked his shirt and dried into a hardened mess that made a suitably depressing finish. At least it hadn't been coffee that had covered him. And unlike a few fellow passengers he hadn't needed a wheelchair to get off the plane, nor was his arm likely broken or similar other injuries not rendering the sufferers immobile. He'd not been happy they'd held everyone back so that EMTs and medics could rush onto the plane once they were at the gate, plenty of idiots had been very vocal. He'd felt quite bad for the crew, having to deal with those shitheads.

His brain took a moment to realize he held something in his left hand, the hand she'd touched. It was a colorful business card with a photo of what he took must be the named hotel.

'Hotel Sookie, 2 Bis Rue Commines 75003 Paris,' was printed over a picture of an attractive hotel's front and had phone and fax numbers. He flipped the card.

Smooth handwriting. And his mood lightened immediately. His shirt no longer bothered him.

'5:00 p.m., lobby. Meet me? Dinner... and? Unless you and August... :(?' A single name, 'Reggie,' was signed in cursive. There was no phone number or any other contact information beyond the hotel's. An immediate shake of his head at the mention of that first name. Yeah. As if.

"Maybe no RSVP required," he said softly but loud enough a couple of people gave him questioning looks, then he realized he'd halted and blocked the movements of the beast and he spoke up, "oh, hey, sorry, folks!"

He matched the shuffled pace. He knew where his hotel was, the zip code or post code or whatever they called them in Paris for his was 75008. He had no idea how that related to 75003. But he'd used the Metro before and had no fears. He smiled. He had a few hours before he needed to be at Hotel Sookie.

And he had a map. Maps. Paper and on his phone, for which he'd pick up a local SIM for the second slot once past this barrier to make it useful for more than just a camera. He exhaled. Well, all that assumed he wasn't still in this queue for Immigration for those few hours or until his flight to return to San Francisco. He sighed. Travel, especially international travel, hadn't been an option for most until the last few months. And it appeared that almost everyone who could was making up for lost time and from all indications the Immigration folks were way out of practice for this sort of crowd.

'Think positive thoughts, Dave,' he told himself, 'patience.'

'And you,' he told the cock as it stirred, 'this is the real world. Not one of Steph's, or August's, or whatever her name really is, movies.'

'Oh, ye of little faith,' his cock responded and twitched. They shuffled forward.

3rd Arrondisement

His hotel wasn't a dump. But Hotel Sookie was a step above it. Or maybe two steps. This one looked like an elegant living room with softer and less utilitarian shapes and hues, a hotel that expected gentility as opposed to welcoming business. His hotel offered a variety of meeting and seminar rooms, which was why he knew it. He'd been forced to take a 'family' room but the manager had promised a double by midweek. Then again, his manager's only concern had been to get him to Paris so the extra cost hadn't fazed her.

At the height of the tourist season. He'd also 'conned' his manager to let him arrive on the Saturday "because it's near impossible to get a hotel, but, hey, if I get there on Saturday THIS one has a room, and I can study up on the errors the system there is having." They'd shared a laugh at that, but his manager had appreciated the cover story for HER manager.

He saw a few people sitting or standing, glasses in hands, soft conversations. The air conditioning wasn't aggressive, cool without being arctic. It felt good after the late afternoon summer heat and humidity although most of the trip had been on the Metro, both hotels convenient to stations. Where to next?

"There's my hero, David," he turned quickly to his right and saw two women seated along a padded bench, one each side of a small table and two glasses of wine on the table, "he decided to settle for second best."

The second woman shook her head slightly but smiled.

"Uh, settle? Second best?" Dave's voice expressed confusion before he smiled, but that was it before she sprang to her feet and wrapped him in a hug with her cheek on his shoulder. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her lower back and felt the thin fabric of her summer dress. Whatever perfume she had was sweetly floral but very subtle. He liked it. She gave him a second squeeze then pulled her head back and kissed him, her mouth closed. It took him an instant to soften his lips and just as she opened her lips she pulled back an inch.

"Soon," she whispered. Then she released him with her left arm and he pulled his hands back. She spun to stand alongside him and put her right arm across his back. His left arm had no choice but to lay across her shoulders.

"Ah, Regina, no way you're second best," he said as he looked at her smiling face then at the second woman, who was familiar but he couldn't quite place her. Two mobile phones sat on the table next to two glasses of red wine.

"Flattery will get you everywhere! And Reggie, I'm only Regina when I need to punish you! David Jones," Reggie said and kissed his cheek quickly and winked where both could see her, "Mary Lawrence. She works up in business class. Not with us proles."

Reggie put her finger to the tip of her nose and pushed slightly up. Mary chuckled and offered a hand and Dave shook it.

"Nice to meet you," he said, "someday I'll get business class."

"Sit," Reggie nudged him and he sat in a chair and she signalled a glum-faced server and pointed to her wine glass, the woman nodded and walked off. She spun and sat again on the bench and crossed her left leg over her right.

Dave's eyes were stuck for a moment on the expanse of bare thigh exposed, a number of the lower buttons on her knee-length summer dress unemployed. He fought the urge to look at the effect the sight was having on his crotch and if it showed. He forced his gaze upward and managed to pause for only the tiniest moment on the upper swells of breasts that were nicely pushed up and displayed by the low and square top of her dress. Her smile was wide and her eyes radiant. With the soft curls of her hair falling freely around her face the subtle signs of her years weren't gone but they'd softened, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were all. He didn't know her age but she'd both kept her job during the extended and almost complete shutdown of air travel and she was handling international flights. That meant years in the job. That didn't help his reaction and when her eyes flashed downward and her smile widened he offered silent thanks that he'd worn briefs under his thin shorts.

"Ah, thanks," he said when the server set a glass of red wine on the table, she walked off without response.

"Okay," Reggie said as she lifted her wine glass and waited for the others to do so, "a toast to the man who prevented me from being covered with boiling hot coffee!"

They tapped glasses and all three sipped. Dave set his glass on the table but kept his hand on it to give his nervous fingers somewhere to rest.

"I'm not sure I'm a hero," he said, "not like we both didn't get covered by soda."

"Sure you are," Reggie said, "you caught me and the coffee pot when the lid came off. I like a hot shower, but, well, not that hot."

"She does like hot juice all over her," Mary said and Reggie sniffed, Dave blinked, "but coffee would be a bit much. At least no one in your section threw up, mostly missed me..."

"Oh, yuck," Dave said, "maybe I won't fly business class in THAT plane. But what's this about second best?"

The two women shared a quick glance and Dave guessed a silent contest had been won, or lost, by Mary.

"This one," she pointed at Reggie, "told me that you were next to a famous actress and she was all over you during the flight. She figured you'd've been dragged off and ravished."

"Uh, well," Dave shook his head, "I guess she IS famous... in certain circles. As to all over me, well, her orange juice ended up on both of us, but Reggie's body prevented the soda hitting her."

"And a couple of things about her," Reggie set her wine down and held her hands in front of her breasts, "much more impressive than mine. Mine and Mary's added together! You kept your eye on them. And I knew you were impressed by them when I landed in your lap."

She winked at Dave then offered a silent laugh to Mary when his mouth moved but he failed to say anything.

"You didn't even notice me copping that feel?" She said with a pout and his silence turned to a stuttered series of 'ah' sounds.

"Well, um," he said, "maybe I was impressed by YOU even before you jumped into my lap and got handsy."

Reggie grinned and Mary laughed softly and shook her head. "The plane jumped upwards then moved sideways and dropped fifteen thousand feet in seconds and shit's flying all over the cabin---."

"Not everything," Reggie interrupted, "my hero dealt with the coffee pot and just the carpet got soaked by it. And to brace me, his OTHER arm reached around my back and grabbed my tit."

She tapped her left breast with her wine glass and sipped.

"I DID remove it," he said, "well, I would've, but your arm---."

"Oh, yeah," Reggie said with an innocent tone, "the plane jumping all over had my arm stuck, held yours there. And my other hand was stuck under my ass... which was stuck on your lap."

"Anyway," Mary growled, "I've got vomit all around me and you two are practically having sex in an aisle seat!"

"Some of us thought we might be crashing," Reggie kept her tone, "and with August O'Thrill in the row and interested in this one I thought maybe she'd joi---."

"Wait," Mary said, "THAT'S who the 'actress' was? The porn star?"

"Who knew her name was Stephanie," Dave said, "but, yeah. I noticed her, uh, chest, but her hair was redder and longer and totally different than her movies and she had glasses. Jeans, never seen her in jeans, or much any clothing actually. I mean, obviously quite the figure, but, took me a while. Mostly her voice finally..."

"So you do watch lots of her videos," Reggie said, "and here I thought you were so innocent."

"Hey, Re gi na," he said and she stuck her tongue out at him, "you know more of her movies than I do!"

Mary shook her head and muttered. "I'm thinking the last thing I'm going to smell before we smash onto Greenland is spew... and you're having a threeway in economy!"

"Hah!" Reggie said. "No way I'm having a threeway with the world's blow job queen! "

Mary's phone chirped and she glanced down. "Ah, okay, you two, I'm off. We all survived so be a good girl and boy and behave yourselves."

"Ah, Mary, what's the fun in that?" Reggie offered a disappointed tone. Mary stood, she was in a lightweight summer blouse and knee-length skirt and sandals, her figure less pronounced than Reggie's and Dave guessed she was a bit older. She took a step and stopped and put a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a light tone.

"You're not a serial killer, are you? Traveling the world and leaving behind a trail of innocent flight attendant corpses?"

"How do I know you two aren't the serial killers, eh? What better cover than flight attendants?" He asked and looked up then back at a laughing Reggie.

"Do you really care?" Reggie asked with a lilt.

"No, I'm here for work, if being ritually sacrificed gets me out of that, it's good," he admitted, "and my parents get my insurance. Buy a new house!" Mary laughed and tapped at her phone as she walked toward the entrance.

"Um, so," Dave said, "the plan?"

"Yup," Reggie said as she set her drained glass on the table and stood, he blinked at the flash that he thought he saw at top of the temporary vee as her dress fell into place, "finish your wine then you're taking me to the Eiffel Tower. I've never been to the top. Then I'm buying you dinner. Unless you and Stephanie have plans."

For just an instant he wasn't certain about that last being a joke. But he shook his head with a smile. He quickly finished his wine, set the glass down and reached into his pocket. Reggie flipped her purse's shoulder strap over her head and grabbed his arm and nudged him to walk and switched sides and twined her right arm around his left and directed him toward the exit.

"On Mary's room," she said lightly, "although she doesn't know it."

Reggie waved to the server. Dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail shook slightly as she gave them a glum look and a shrug.

"Not exactly service with a smile," Dave said. Reggie laughed lightly and she led them into the late afternoon's heat and humidity.

"It's the last day of July in Paris and she's working," Reggie said, "but, well, apparently she's from Bulgaria and with every Parisian on their own holidays, she's got the short straw. But I'm not sure that isn't her happy face."

"Guess I can't complain," Dave said, "it's less effort to fly me here from San Francisco to spend the week at La Defense instead of dragging a local off their holidays and my boss agreed I can take vacation the second week! But, if we're going to the Eiffel Tower with every... other... tourist, this way."

He turned them left on Rue Commines. "Couple more lefts and that'll get us to St.-Sebastien Froissart metro station, that's the line I came on. It'll take us close enough to the tower, walk through the park."

"That one of the lines with those funny rubber tires? They don't seem right to me."

He noticed the sweat that had already worked up between their joined arms but he didn't mind and he nudged slightly closer to her and she made a soft sound as they navigated among the crowd.

"Nah, this one's normal," he said with a chuckle, "but why the Eiffel Tower? You've seen it before?"

"Yeah, but I'm always in one day and out the next, almost everywhere I go," she said with a tentative tone, "but with the fact everyone's finally able to travel again, they've worked us like dogs. I've plenty of seniority so I'm handling European flights and not stuck in Dubuque and I get until Wednesday this time. But, I don't know the city all that well..."

He delayed for a slow breath before he responded in a slow cadence. "My days this week are taken... but after five. If you..."

She didn't say anything but her fingers found his hand and they clasped and she made a soft purr. After a couple of steps in silence she spoke.

"Sure, unless Stephanie makes ME a better offer. If the videos are accurate, she IS quite flexible that way."

Both let out snorted laughs. Then he pulled her to a stop and turned slightly. He reached with his right hand and put it under her chin and pulled her. She let him and their lips met, initially softly before she pushed against him and invited his lips to open. They did and her tongue pressed against them before it pushed into his mouth. A couple of coughed grunts were heard from pedestrians forced to navigate around the sudden obstruction alongside Rue du Pont aux Choux. After both tongues made quick but thorough forays they broke the kiss and he nudged them to move again.

"Maybe Stephanie will make us both an offer," he said to a hummed assent, "she doesn't seem amiss to that either."

"And maybe the metro car will be packed," she said with bright eyes, "and I can stand tight in front of you and reach back and make you blow in your jeans while you dream about getting one of her blow jobs!"

Meudon

She'd been partially good to her word. The car had been crowded which had offered her the excuse to stand with her back against him. She'd pulled his arms around her waist and he rested his hands on what felt like nicely firm abs. Her hands went behind her and wormed their way to his crotch.

She hadn't made him blow, but she had put in some diligent effort to working him in that direction. He'd leaned slightly and kissed her neck occasionally. At one point when her hands worked downward against his constrained cock and it seemed no one was looking at them, he'd quickly cupped her breasts. His hands weren't huge and they'd slightly overflowed his grip. The fabric of the dress was thin and he'd seen at the hotel that she was braless, and it wasn't like the dress covered her all that well anyway with its low cut and two open buttons. But by sight and feel he liked their firmness and her nipples, although not prominent, seemed to like the attention.

"Keep 'em there," she'd whispered and squeezed his cock. Hard. He'd obeyed and they'd arrived at Madeleine.

"This is the stop for my hotel," he whispered as they were jostled with passengers getting on and off, "few more and we'll get off."

"I'm getting off now," she said and turned her head and kissed his cheek. He caught wide eyes that were locked on his hands and the woman's mouth tightened. Then he noticed her eyes on Reggie's.

"He's mine," the flight attendant said. The woman seemed to understand and glared, shook her head and made a show of turning away. Reggie squeezed his cock and laughed softly.

"Mind walking up to the second level, 775 steps," Dave said as he turned his head from the booth attendant to Reggie, "bypass the queue here for the elevator."

Her right leg rose and she flexed the calf with the white shoe on that foot. "Why do you think I wore my sneakers? Let's climb!"

He smiled and turned and somewhat to his surprise bought two tickets for the summit.

"This way," he led her past the long queue winding its way to the elevator toward the half dozen people feeding onto the stairs. He'd led them off the metro at Ecole Militaire and that'd finally forced her to release his cock. He'd hoped no one would notice his state, and once Reggie's antagonist had glared at them and his companion had stuck her tongue out in response as they'd stepped onto the platform no one else had seemed to notice. They were both sweaty from the ride and strands of her hair stuck to her neck but they held hands and walked lightly and mostly in silence through the Parc du Champ de Mars as the towering skeleton of puddled iron grew ever taller in their views. As they hit the end of the short queue of climbers he released her hand and moved his to her lower back.