Author's Notes
: (I) This is the second part of the author's memoir from the late '90's, the start of a series on his life. In Part I, a 21-year-old student travelling in Paris meets a Frenchwoman nearly 15 years older than he was. In the first installment, our visitor had overwhelmed the local femme. It closes with them about to visit her apartment, where (he had just informed her) he would be staying for the duration of her trip.
Part I in the series is rated PG. This offering is X-Rated. A Prologue to the series will be forthcoming, as will several additional stories that occur subsequently.
(II) The original French words set forth the precise language used. But the English translation provided is idiomatic, not literal. Young people used slang then, as they do now. Some of the translated English phrases herein were not even in common usage when this episode occurred, but are the best modern expressions to reflect the behaviors and ideas involved. A few exchanges are
not
translated; you can likely figure out what was conveyed from the context.
-------------------
Though Arthur had warned Françoise that sex was not on the agenda for this, their first night together, that didn't prevent her from trying to change his mind.
She seriously tried to engage Arthur physically. Françoise was a liberated and experienced Frenchwoman at the height of her sexual prime. She had removed her chemise and then panties but left on a skimpy black lacy bra that showed off her tempting breasts to great effect. Her overall visage was extremely alluring. But whenever Françoise made an attempt to actually initiate physical intimacies with Arthur, she failed. When she climbed on top of him and brushed her breasts across his face, he flipped her over, pinned her arms back and rebuked her. Other times she tried to entice him by caressing his semi-rigid cock or licking his ear. Or nibbling at his nipples. He in turn just wrestled her away.
At one point Françoise placed several of her fingers into her pussy, then rubbed the smelly digits across Arthur's nose and tried to insert them into his mouth. Her reward: a loud, painful slap on the face. Eventually he had to hold her down face first on the bed and spank her, hard. And suddenly, very much to her surprise (but not his) she came in a series of silent shudders. Finally her attempts to force Arthur to fuck her stopped. They slept: he well, she frustrated yet excited.
The next morning he awakened her at 7:30. He gave her 500 francs (about $40) and the room key to his modest tourist hotel, told her to take a Taxi there (about four miles away), pack his clothing and toiletries into his bags, and bring them back to her place. And, Arthur told her, return with croissants, Havarti cheese, and bottles of both sweet cider and
vin ordinaire
. She asked what he would be doing while she was off doing these things.
"Endormi"
was his reply. ["Sleeping."]
She was back by 9:30, and they enjoyed a nice breakfast. He told her his plans for the day: she would be his tour guide, and then that night they would take in her competition at the Moulin Rouge.
But, she said, she had to work that night.
No, he told her, you need to take off the next five nights. And so without further incident she called her club and did just that.
They went sight-seeing and then, that night, clubbing. They were back in her room a little after 3:00 a.m., slightly (but only slightly) drunk. And now was the,
ah
, moment of truth. He fully stripped her down in the "sitting room" part of the tiny apartment, and carried her to the next room where he lit a single candle before lowering her down into the bed. Arthur removed his own clothing except for his briefs.
Arthur teased Françoise with his hands and with his lips, his mouth ministering to every known erogenous zone North of her waist and South of her thighs. Manually he excited her clitoris to the point where she was ready to explode in an orgasmic cascade, but then eased her back down unfulfilled. Only to be repeated. And repeated again. Time stood still. Excited and frustrated, Françoise could not think: she could sense crudely and feel broadly and pulsate but her ability to act in any purposeful way was obliterated. Unlike with Hemingway's Rabbit (Maria), the Earth did not move: rather Françoise herself became transported helplessly in such a way as to transcend the Earth metaphysically, agitated and denied release.
The room took on the strong fragrance of Françoise's excitement. And that pheromonal essence spurred her on further. But not so Arthur: he had a job to do and maintained his control at all times. Satisfying, delivering, then subjugating a woman sexually is serious work, especially at the first coupling; of course in time it gets easier and easier.
At some points during the foreplay Françoise tried to direct the action ---- and got nowhere. Arthur did allow her to remove his briefs and after she gazed at his, uh, endowments she licked Arthur's balls and then took his engorged semi-rigid but not fully erect prick into her mouth.
Now Arthur has never much cared for being fellated -- too many women attempt to use it to control a partner -- and he greatly preferred the sensation of entering a woman and occupying her in the way Nature designed. Nonetheless Arthur told Françoise that, yes, she could minister to him orally all she wanted. But he added he doubted she could bring him anywhere
near
a climax. Françoise of course took up the challenge only to find herself with a sore jaw, battered gag reflex, chafed palate and feeling very, very inept.
Attempting to appear undaunted, Françoise sought to get Arthur to go down on her [