Reminisces from my trip to meet my lover in Paris
This may be considered a bit of a honeymoon. It was very much like one, and in some ways will undoubtedly be remembered as such.
Wednesday I arrived on schedule at Charles De Gaulle Airport north of Paris. Michelle met me there as planned. I snuck up behind her and surprised her out of her wits. I felt bad but she was very happy after the initial shock.
We made our way to the bus which would take us to Montparnasse train station, where we would then catch a Metro and go only two stops to our destination; Parnety. We got off the Metro and wheeled all of our luggage, a not-too-uncommon-sight on the Metro, the two blocks to our hotel, La Maison Montparnasse.
Our room, 31, (“trente et un” Michelle taught me how to say) was small but functional. I’m not sure but that we didn’t just unpack and get in bed immediately. Pretty sure we did (!). Dinner was at a local restaurant we walked to, upon recommendation of the proprietor of the hotel. It was lovely. I started with tomatoes and mozzarella, sprinkled with basil, then had andouille sausage. We retired at a decent hour for our first ever night together when our families were not nearby. Did we make love some more? I’m pretty sure we must have!
Thursday we woke up pretty early and fucked each other within an inch of our lives. I took the opportunity to very deliberately perform analingus on her. Afterwards she said she enjoyed it and told me it was the first time anyone had ever done it with her. I have to tell you, dear diary, what a wonderful experience that was, and that I would do it again and again for a very long time. I hope she really did enjoy it. I found it just incredible.
We went away for breakfast at a nearby café at about 11am. In the afternoon, we went to the cathedral on the hill where you could see most of Paris (don’t remember the name). Michelle pointed out the landmarks, we got our first cheer for necking in public, then we went for a walk around this neighborhood and shops, where Michelle pointed out the movie “Amelie” was filmed. We joked about all the orgasms in Paris. I don’t think I brought up one of my other favorite lines from the film: “fur pie doesn’t sell.” Ha.
Michelle rounded up a copy of “Pariscope” in a small, and I thought quaint but I have little frame of reference, bookstore. “Pariscope” is a weekly performing-arts (and other things) calendar-of-events-type publication. We were looking for movies and concerts to go to. In trying to decide whether to eat now or later, and bemoaning being hungry, she spotted a tea house, and felt that would be the perfect solution for her immediate needs.
We enjoyed some lovely tea. She had a “red” tea and I had a “white” tea. I had only ever heard of black tea and green tea before that. We looked through Pariscope and decided on a couple likely movies.
Then was the most extraordinary turn of events – Michelle alluded to being “naughtier than anyone would ever think,” and, in little time, I realized she was telling me she wanted to give me a blowjob there in the tea house. (There were no other customers, we were in a loft above the sales floor, and the shopkeeper, downstairs, was leaving us alone as is the custom at any French café. We could be seen from the street if anyone knew there was something to see, which, of course, they did not). Michelle set to my cock with her mouth and hands, and with a little help from me, I peaked: She sucked my seed completely within her mouth, silently and enthusiastically, 100% picture perfectly (following my at-one-time-imparted instructions perfectly, bless her), dispatching it deftly with no mess, lots of cooing and a big smile. She kissed me deeply with the taste of my cum still in her mouth. I was in complete and total ecstasy!
She said she disagreed with whomever had told me my cum didn’t taste very good! Michelle is the sweetest lover I have ever known. Ever. I am a happy man.
We left the tea house, walked back to the Metro, and made our way to the Forum des Halles, got disoriented to Michelle’s somewhat strong dissatisfaction, and wandered around looking for the cinema where we would catch the movie we wanted to see: “The k**s are All Right.” We found it in the nick of time! The movie was fabulous. (In order to talk about it with my family, I will pretend that I saw it on the plane on the way home). After the movie, it was late, we were looking for a dinner destination, and she appropriately remembered asking me if I liked mussels and I’d said I did. She took me to a kind of fun Belgian mussels chain, Leon de Bruxells (which she described later as “sinister as far as atmosphere”) where we ate quite a big pile of mussels with beer, which was nice, then we made our way back to … where else?: Room 31.