Her plane landed right on time. She had taken a connecting flight from Charles Du Galle to land here in Nice, in the gorgeous sunshine of a summer Thursday in Province. Most of the passengers had disembarked by the time she appeared at the top of the jetway.
Her smile never stopped and her eyes never left mine as she walked the dozen paces to where I stood behind the line, dropped her bags and threw her arms around my neck. We hugged long and hard, and then, in true Français style I took hold of her face and kissed both cheeks. She beamed. I then leaned in and kissed her mouth, just a bit longer than normal. We had kissed lips forever, but now it was different. She gave me a slightly scolding look, but her smile never faltered.
Once in the car I drove the whole way on the Promenade, along the beach. The traffic was pretty bad, but we didn't care. The day was perfect, she was perfect, it was heaven. Finally I reached Vieille Ville, where I live, and turned into the old section of town. She was charmed every minute; by the shops, the architecture, the beautiful clothes. We would check her into her hotel later. I wanted to show her my flat.
We pulled into my parking spot and got out. I led her up the stairs to the building where I lived. It was on the hill and was a converted shop, with one apartment on every floor. I was on the top floor, but a woman about my mother's age lived in a small flat built into the attic. I almost never saw her.
My apartment took up the entire top floor, but it wasn't that large. What made it awesome was the view to the south; over the rooftops of Vieille Ville, to the Promenade and the beach beyond. I walked Mom out onto the small Juliette balcony overlooking the town. She was entranced. I was entranced; by her. She stood in the sunlight, dressed in an adorable floral sundress, pleated to mid-thigh so it swished a bit, halter top that showed a nice amount of cleavage and a lot of her back. She was tan and fit. Her legs looked awesome atop some cute wedgie shoes with those ties that wrap around the ankle.
I moved up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. One arm was over her breasts, one under. She stiffened for a moment, but quickly relaxed when she realized I wasn't making a move. I did kiss her cheek, and when I did so I was afforded a beautiful view down her dress. She was wearing a thin, white, lacy bra that looked to barely cover her nipples. The skin at the top swell of her breast was incredibly soft and creamy looking. We stayed like that for some time, each enjoying the view, so to speak.
"Seeing this view via Skype really doesn't do it justice." She finally said quietly.
"It is such a beautiful view." I responded, not looking away from her cleavage.
"I mean the city." She joked.
"I know." I said. "I have my own beautiful view." I told her, grinning. Looking down she noticed how much of her I could see from my vantage.
"Don't start getting naughty on me." She chided, trying her best to sound serious.
I didn't move and she relaxed into me a bit. Her hands came up and rested on my arms and we stood for a long moment gazing out at the view.
"Drink?" I whispered in her ear.
"Love one. What do you have?"
We moved to my tiny kitchen and I opened a bottle of a local red wine, produced in the nearby Languedoc - Roussillon region. I broke off half a baguette, some Pélardon cheese and we sat down on the couch. I noticed how gorgeous mom's legs were when she sat opposite me with ankles crossed and those sexy ties curving around her ankles and calves. We chatted and flirted just a bit. I told her that I was going to take her to the restaurant where Marianne worked so that they could meet. Mom was excited to meet her. Marianne had told me that she was kind of nervous about it, which surprised me, as with most French women, she was afraid of nothing and no one.
We nibbled and drank wine as the sun dropped to the horizon and slowly sank behind the hills, providing a gorgeous amber tint to the ocean out my window. Our chit chat was somewhat perfunctory, but it was just so nice to be in her presence. There were long moments of comfortable silence.
Having finished the bottle, I rose.
"Let me change for dinner and then we'll go get you checked in to your hotel". I rose and took her glass, cleared away the bread remnants and then headed for the shower. I discovered just how erect I was around her when I undressed. It didn't relax all through the shower; washing my cock didn't help matters at all.
I got out and wrapped a towel and then went into the other room to find her standing at the window. I wrapped my arms around her again, just under her beautiful breasts, and kissed her neck. She seemed wistful, but her hand came up and held the back of my head. I was certain she could feel my erection through the towel and her dress. Nothing was said, but we stayed like that for a long moment.
Finally I whispered,
"You make me so excited." I saw the hint of a smile on her profile. "I'm going to go get dressed." Then as an afterthought, "You make me want to be a bit naughty. I'm going to drop my towel right here and walk to the bedroom. You may watch me if you like, but ... you decide."
I moved back from her a bit and then undid the knot at my waist and removed the towel. I tossed it on a nearby chair, so she could see it.
"That's better." I whispered. Then, "Be right back."
I strolled to my bedroom and, reaching the door, turned to see if she was watching. She was. Mom had simply turned her head without moving her body. I turned to face her fully, powerfully, painfully erect. She just smiled, and then turned back to the view. I went and got dressed.
I pulled the car up in front of the Hotel Mercure and opened her door for her. I grabbed her bags and we entered the lobby to check her in. It was very nice, small and quaint, just the sort of place she would love. Not some big chain hotel but the kind of place Parisienne's might stay on their holiday.
Her room was very nice, great view of the Promenade at night, huge tub for 2 and a king size bed. Her shower was also sized to accommodate 2 people, with a rain head and multiple body sprays.
"You need to change so we can get going. Our reservation is for 10." I told her. She gave me a shocked look. "Yeah I know, but you're in France now. Dinner doesn't even start until 9PM at the earliest."
"Just let me get clean and change." She said as she bustled into the bathroom.
I sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner and waited. Waited to see if she would match my show from earlier. She went into the bathroom and shut the door quietly. Nothing yet, I thought. I listened to the shower running and then waited from her once the water turned off. She emerged a bit later completely dressed and made up. No show tonight.
She was however, stunning in her evening dress; soft, shapely, little black dress, plunging just enough, not to create the wrong impression, but definitely competitive in the sexiness department. Her legs were bare, but tan and smooth and fitted into beautiful black pumps with a peek-a-boo toe. She smiled and turned, showing me that the back plunged further than the front. She was stunning, and I told her so. She cat-walked over to where I was sitting and leaned down and kissed my lips. Her lipstick tasted of something sweet.
Her shoulder-length soft blond hair framed her face perfectly. My erection rebounded all at once. We went down the art deco, metal framework elevator hand in hand and I opened the car door for her. She smiled and trailed a finger down my jaw.
"Such a gentlemen, I raised," she beamed. I noticed the sexy shift of her hemline as she dropped into her seat.
I took a winding, circuitous route to the restaurant, so she could see the town. Arriving at Marianne's restaurant, she was thoroughly charmed by the place. Tables out front, with bright conversations taking place, ivy growing all over the front façade, a warm homey glow coming through the windows. 'Ahh France' I thought.
Gerard, the Maitre seated us and shortly Marianne appeared, dressed for work in her black outfit and floor-length white apron, but somehow looked more elegant than usual. I stood to kiss both her cheeks. She turned to look at Mom who had a gentle smile on her face. I could tell she liked Marianne on sight.
