A Hot Night in Paris

The next morning I was awakened by the loud horn of a police vehicle that was driving by. I did not open my eyes for a few moments but rather thought and felt about what had transpired only hours earlier. I felt uncomfortable yet content, confused yet sure of myself. I wondered to myself what mechanism had been put into place to have caused the total explosion of passion and lust between Helen and me.

I had slept alone on the couch in the living room. I assume that Helen was in her bed as I remember that she had told me that there were no classes for the day. I wondered if she had been awake at any time during the night and if she had been what she was thinking about. After we made love we said little to each other and she went to the bedroom and shut the door. I stayed up for a while and sat near one of the windows and stared outside and daydreamed. I replayed what had occurred again and again and found myself getting aroused as I stared at the nearly empty and dark streets.

I finally went to bed very late and now I was up and pondering the events of the previous night. I was aware that we had crossed a line into very dangerous territory. There was a feeling of regret and dread on my part. I did not want to spend the rest of my life in a vacuum without feelings.

I heard a noise and Helen opened the bedroom door and walked into the living room. She smiled as she walked over to me and held out her arms as she approached me.

She said, "Good morning." She then kissed the side of my face and gave me a huge hug.

I responded by saying, "Bon Jour!" I think that means good morning. (This caused her to giggle.)

She then said, "Are you hungry?" I said, "I am as hungry as a bear."

She then asked, "What do bears eat when they are hungry?"

I responded by saying, "Bears eat honey and do you have any honey that I can eat?"

Her face flushed slightly and she then laughed and said, "You can eat some honey later but how about a croissant and some coffee for now?"

Her response caused my negative previous thoughts to evaporate.

We walked to the local boulangerie (bakery) for a coffee and a croissant.

She wore a pair of worn jeans and a sweater. On her feet she wore a pair of dress boots with a heel. She had no makeup on and had pulled her hair into a ponytail. She looked a different type of spectacular from the night before. I had a pair of jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt. As we left the apartment building we automatically held hands as we walked.

We sat and ate and drank coffee. It was a continuation of the pleasant previous days as far as how we were with each other.

On occasion Helen and I would stop talking to each other and just look at each other. I wondered what she was thinking. I was not secure enough to ask her. There was a level of intensity but she was my sister so I tried to minimize what I felt. I felt like a racing car with the throttle wide open and at the same time applying the brakes.

I admitted to myself that I was in love for the first time in my life. It was such a heavy yet thrilling sensation. I wanted to scream it out to the world but thought better of it. How could I frame it if I did scream it out?

She looked at me carefully and spoke softly and said, "You are the Rolls Royce of lovers." She added, "If I never make love again I can die having been with someone as special as you."

I was at a loss for words. She said, "You do not have to respond, but know what I am saying is true."

She then giggled and whispered to me, "I had your come dripping out of me through the night and it has finally stopped. I need to have my supply replenished. Let's go back to the apartment."

We walked back to the apartment. After we entered the apartment, Helen accessed her e-mail and there was a message from Brad. Her mood changed. She looked angry.

She said, "Brad suddenly wants to know what I am doing. He said he had tried to call me the last five days but there had not been an answer. He wanted to know if I was being faithful. He said he wants to fly to Paris to see what is going on."

I could tell that the e-mail bothered Helen. She appeared as angry as I have ever seen her. On what had been the beginnings of another great day on Paris, there now was a cause to think and the thoughts were not pretty.

Maybe the good times were about to come to an abrupt end. This was from my perspective and I sensed from that of Helen as well. Maybe I was wrong but I had a strong sense that I was right.

There was little I could offer to her as what she should do or what she should do as far as Brad was concerned. She had to think this one through.

I found myself feeling very jealous but I would not show it. Any and all insecurities that I had came into the forefront now. I had no business telling Helen what she should do in her life. I had no right as her brother. Did I have any right to say anything because I was her lover? I had no answers. I do not believe that anyone could provide an answer to this dilemma.

My presence in Paris seemed to have caused Helen to shut out (for awhile) her thoughts and possibly her feelings for Brad. She had expressed a fantasy to me prior to leaving home of maybe getting engaged to Brad in Paris. I had a sick feeling that if Brad did travel to Paris then the marriage proposal might occur.

Not only was I fearful of the proposal but what her response might be.

I had placed myself in an emotional vise. I was in love with my sister but realistically there was nowhere to go with that love aside from sitting on the sidelines and watching how our lives would unfold.

As I thought about it there was little that Helen and I could do once we flew home. Every affair is eventually discovered and the fallout from ours would be a catastrophe to say the least.

Helen and I sat around the apartment. I had the sense that I should go for a walk and leave her alone for a while. When I told her I was going out and that I would be back later she gave me a sad smile but said nothing.

I walked to a small park nearby and sat on a bench and just felt as depressed as I have ever been in my life. My heart hurt. If I had someone to talk to there was no way I could express exactly what was ailing me and the circumstances regarding the ailment. I gave the term "lonely" new meaning.

I got up from the bench and went to a bistro called the Café Luxembourg. I sat outside at a table. I had a draft beer and did some people watching. Of course there were lovers holding hands and kissing and embracing that added to my emotional carnage.

I do not remember how long I was gone from the apartment. I slowly made my way back and rang the bell. Helen came to the door. She looked like she had been crying. As she preceded me up the stairway she reached back and grabbed my hand. We said nothing to each other.

She led me to the bedroom. She pushed me backwards onto the bed and took off all my clothes and then got into bed next to me. She then removed her clothes as well. We were on our backs looking at the ceiling in the room and we then turned and looked at each other.

We kissed and held each other. There was a kiss followed by another followed by me getting on top of her. Her face felt feverish to my touch. I spat some saliva on my left hand and transferred it to the head of my cock and I pushed into her.

There was no love making here. We fucked and I came inside of her three times in a matter of about forty five minutes. After each time I came I deliberately stayed inside of her and made sure that all of my seed was parked in her very deep and wet place. What we were doing was absolutely insane yet I would not and could not stop myself. Not a word was spoken by either of us. We fell asleep.

I was awakened by the sound of water. Helen was in the shower. It was dark outside. The sound of running water ended and I heard the sound of a hairdryer. The door to the bathroom opened slightly and I saw those beautiful eyes and then the electric smile.

She said, "Hey good-looking, what's going on?" I replied, "I am as hungry as a bear." She threw a wet washcloth at me that landed across my face.

I got up and waited for Helen to finish in the bathroom. She came out in her bra and panties. She said, "After you take your shower, why don't we think about dinner?"

I said," That sounds good to me. Is there a place that has any good takeout food?"

She said, "Yes but we will have to ride the Metro for about ten minutes to get there."

I nodded to her. I shaved, showered and washed my hair in about twenty minutes. I put on a pair of brown slacks and beige loafers with a maroon sweater.

Helen put on a black denim mini-skirt with dark black pantyhose and her dress boots. She had a bulky black sweater. She said she did not want to wear makeup and that was fine with me. Her hair was on her shoulders and it shined in the light.

It was a clear night as we left the apartment. We held hands on the way to the Metro and the ride to our destination took about ten minutes. We sat together on the train and shared a few kisses. After exiting the Metro we walked a short distance to a street called Rue Cler.

On this street there are many places that sell foods outdoors to the public. Predominately there is French food but there was some Italian and some Greek specialty foods available as well. There was much to choose from as we strolled and sampled. We purchased a whole roasted chicken along with some mixed vegetables together with a loaf of bread. We then went to a wine store and purchased a bottle of red wine and a bottle of white. To finish off the meal we visited a cheese store and purchased a variety of cheeses produced in Normandy.

We returned to the apartment. Helen spread out the food and she set the table with silverware and plates and two glasses. She put on a radio station that played soft music and lit candles.

At no time during the trip to and from the food markets did Helen mention what she was thinking with respect to Brad. I did not ask. I was a coward.

As we ate this simple yet sumptuous meal and drank our wine, Helen finally spoke about Brad and what she felt.

She said, "My feelings about Brad are mixed. I do not know what his real motivations are. He knows what triggers my emotions and what he is trying to do have caused some angst in me to say the least. He has always known what I have wanted and yet I am beginning to believe that he is nothing but an insincere opportunist. For many weeks he has chosen to basically ignore me and now for whatever reason he is feeling threatened or lonely. Maybe he is afraid I found someone new and maybe I have. Maybe it is because I have decided not to call him or even bothered to e-mail him. When I first met him I was not overly impressed with his macho bullshit. He pursued me and wooed me and captured my heart. He now appears to be trying to do the same thing. When he perceives that he is being ignored he wants me. His act is tiring but I still have feelings for him. I have not yet responded to his e-mail. If the telephone rings, please do no pick it up. Please pour me some more wine."

I did not respond as there was nothing for me to say. What stuck in my mind was when she said, "Maybe he is afraid that I have found someone new and maybe I have."

My heart and spirit soared.

Helen had taken off her boots and was in stocking feet. As I poured her another glass of wine she placed her feet on my lap and said, "Please rub my feet."

I did as she asked. There was no reason to not let my cock rise to the occasion. She maneuvered the toes of her feet against my cock and giggled at the result. I pushed her legs off of my lap and stood up.

She stood up as well and we met and shared a passionate kiss. What I knew is that our lips were made for each other. As the kiss ended she asked me to sit on the couch (my bed) and she said she would return in a moment. She walked to the bedroom.

She came out of her bedroom shortly thereafter with a light pink bag that looked like it was made of silk. She opened the bag and pulled out two pair of sheer long black stockings.

She told me to take off my clothes. I did as she asked and did not ask questions. She removed her clothes as well. She crouched on the floor and without speaking to me pulled on a stocking on each of my legs until they were at their full length. She gave my cock a lick and a slight suck. She then sat on the edge of the couch pulled on her stockings. I watched as those black stockings made their way up those long shapely legs. I was speechless. There were no garters wanted or needed. The stockings on me reached up nearly to my balls. Hers reached up nearly to her crotch.

I could see the contractions of her stomach muscles from heavy breathing. Her lips were parted and she looked into my eyes. I noticed that her eyes did not blink. She appeared to be on a mission and whatever the mission entailed, I was in for a ride.

She rubbed my legs and I did the same to her. We kissed and I felt her breasts. Her nipples were hard and protruded. I sucked on them. I wished (again) that her breasts were filled with milk. That thought made me hornier if that is possible. As I found out she loved having her nipples played with and sucked and loved having her breasts caressed. Her breasts were the perfect fit for my hands and her nipples were the perfect fit for my mouth.

We changed positions. We got into a sixty-nine.

I placed my mouth against her pussy. I basically was making out with her pussy. I got her clit into my mouth and gave it a tug. Her long and puffy pussy lips were mine for the sucking. A groan came from her mouth as she took my cock in her mouth. She softly rubbed my balls.

I heard her mumble, "Your balls are full of baby juice. Let me have all you can make."

I was crazed from the perspective of having my legs covered in nylon while I was rubbing her legs in nylon and eating her pussy that was spewing rivulets of juice into my mouth. At the same time this woman was sucking me to my core anxious to drink my come.

I heard groaning from Helen that grew to a wail. As she came she screamed out my name and then she burst into tears. I came at nearly the same time and she drank my baby juice.

I was going to remark about her tears but thought better of it. We then got face to face and held and kissed and fucked the rest of the night. There was desperation, almost a fear and sadness to our lovemaking.

I remember hearing the normal sounds from the streets below that mixed with the soft music playing. The apartment felt warm. I could also hear our respective breathing and our communal groaning. I also remember the sounds of the swishing nylons would send me off to some renewed thrusting.

She was so soaked from her juices and my come that as soon as I got a little hard, I would roll onto and into her and start to pump her. I could hear our juices in her pussy as I plunged in and out and from side to side.

We somehow managed to get up and make our way into the bedroom. She pulled my nylons up and did the same to hers. We then started up from where we had left off.

I remember that I came inside of her five times that night after our dinner.

At some point in time we fell into an exhausted sleep.