The Sailor, part 5

“Bring him up here. First thing tomorrow,” said Chuck.

“No! Wait, why?” I asked.

“Because I am your friend and I want to make sure he’s a decent enough guy.”

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll bring him over. But you better be nice to him!”

I didn’t trust Chuck. My gut said there was an ulterior motive to his demanding to meet Sailor. Honestly, what did I have to fear? They both were in the Navy. They had that and me in common. I hung up the phone.

I drove to my favorite lake and sat in the parking lot, overlooking the waterfall. I had to think but I really couldn’t be alone with my thoughts. Watching the water calmed me down. It truly was getting late and I was getting sleepy. I started the truck and headed home, dreading daylight. Eh, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

I woke up and told my folks I was going to see Chuck. I knew they wouldn’t give me a hard time about it. I called Sailor to tell him about the plans for the day before quickly showering. I skipped doing a full face of makeup and pulled my hair back into a high ponytail. My dad slipped me a twenty, knowing I would be gone the entire day. He always took care of me like that.

A horn sounded outside and I ran out the door, hollering goodbye to whomever was listening. Sailor had the radio too loud, again. I could hear it before I got to the car. I open the door and motion for him to turn it down. Hard rock always gave me a headache. He popped in a tape that I liked instead. Thank goodness!

“Hey gorgeous! How goes it?” He grinned.

“I’m tired. Do you know where we’re headed?” I asked in reply.

“Yep, looked at the map earlier. I know the general area but you’ll have to give me exact directions once we get closer, ok?”

“I can do that. Did you have breakfast?”

“No, did you? I bet you didn’t.”

“Of course not. I can’t eat right after waking up. Makes me sick.”

“Alright, breakfast it is. McDonald’s ok with you?”

“Yeah, I don’t care. I’ll have a sausage egg mcmuffin, hashbrowns, and a Coke.”

“That’s my girl. It’s 9am and you have to have your Coca-Cola.”

I laughed. Sailor always teased me about having soda pop first thing in the morning. It was my only unhealthy vice!

A couple of hours later, we were pulling into Chuck’s driveway. He came out to greet us before we got up to the door. Technically, it was his parents’ house but they were away for the weekend. I didn’t bother with introductions. I let them size each other up. Chuck and Sailor were about as different as night and day.

“How’s it going?” Sailor asked, holding his hand out to Chuck.

“It’s good. Nice to meet you,” said Chuck.

L'homme français, la partie quatre

I only slept for a few hours before being awoken to a myriad of kisses on my breasts. He was hard and ready to go again. We had sex in a different position. I loved how experimental he was. I wanted to learn something new and Jean-Pierre was my instructor.

Sex lasted for over an hour before Jean-Pierre insisted we go to his favorite café for brunch. He said we needed to eat to keep up our strength. I insisted upon a shower for us both first. My intent was to actually get clean in the shower but of course, he had other ideas as he soaped up my breasts. We were in the shower until the water ran cold.

Finally! Dressed and out the door, we walked the few blocks from my apartment to the café. We dined on strong black coffee, beignets, and fresh fruit. Jean-Pierre’s desire was to spend as much time with me as possible. I didn’t mind. I actually liked him and enjoyed his company immensely. I wasn’t even desperate to get away. Kudos to me for sticking this one out.

We talked about anything and everything while we ate. Upon discovering a small, trivial fact about him, I couldn’t get the shocked expression off my face. He let out a hearty laughed at my surprise.

“I like older women,” he began.

“What do you mean?” I asked with a quizzical look upon my face.

“I’m only 20. The women I see are older as I imagine you are as well.” He said this with smug pride.

I dropped my beignet onto my plate, hence the shock on my face.

“I’m, uh, I’m…” I couldn’t help stammering.

“You are what? Don’t American women like younger men?”

“I’m not that much older than you!” I laughed.

Jean-Pierre joined me in laughter and then kissed me across the tiny table.

“Oui, Je sais. J'aime vous entendre rire.”

When he speaks to me in French, I go weak in the knees. Wow, he loves hearing me laugh. Some things I can pick up on but for the most part, I needed him to translate. We sat in the café for hours and spent the time with uninterrupted conversation. I learned so much about him in a short amount of time. He asked me about my childhood, my family, and what life was like growing up in the United States. He had been to a few places in the U.S., like San Francisco and New York City. He wasn’t even from France! He was actually French-Canadian, from Quebec. We talked about Montreal when I found that out! Why was he in France? Coworker was his cousin and he was going to school here.

After a while, a friend of Jean-Pierre’s came over to our table to say hello.

“Bonjour, Marcel!”

“Bonjour, Jean-Pierre. Ca va bien?” Marcel replied.

“Oui, et toi?”

“Très bien. Qui est votre amie?” He asked.

“C’est ma petite amie. Elle est de l'Amérique et parle un peu français,” responded Jean-Pierre.

I exchanged greetings with Marcel after introductions were made. I couldn’t believe Jean-Pierre introduced me as his girlfriend. Maybe it was a term they used loosely here. In America, it’s a term of possession in my opinion. I decided to ask him about it before throwing him out of my life. I needed to do it privately and waited until Marcel left.

L'homme français, la partie trois

I stepped forward and kissed him. The cool taste of his mouth had my spine tingling. His response was just as intense as mine. My hands practically ripped his shirt off of him as he unhooked my bra. We kept kissing the entire time we stripped each other. I paused for a moment after I undid his pants. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft as best as I could. He was enormous in girth and length. I dropped to my knees and pushed his pants to the ground. I wait for him to step out before I do anything else. He kicks his pants to the side.

I stare at the full length of him before I go any further. There was no way I was going to fit my mouth around him and take the entire length of him in. But damned to hell if I wasn’t going to try! I wanted every inch of him. I wanted to taste him, feel him, and everything in between.

I pulled him closer to me and began to lick his shaft as I slid my hands up his thighs. I grabbed his ass and took his head into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his as best as I could. I couldn’t take much of him in because of his size. I felt his muscles tense and he let out a moan. Jean-Pierre wanted me to stop for a moment. He was becoming too sensitive.

I wanted to make this interlude last as long as possible. He helped me to my feet and led me down the hall to the bedroom. We laid down on the bed and resumed what we had started. He lavished kisses all over my body. His hands slid over my skin like soft velvet. I felt so wanton with desire. He placed his head between my legs and slowly licked my inner thighs. I was quivering. I was trying to be quiet. I didn’t want to be that neighbor!

“Oh my God!” escaped from my lips.

My eyes rolled back into my head as Jean-Pierre’s tongue did a wicked dance on my most private girly parts. I was gasping. I couldn’t hold back.

“Please! OHMYWORD!”

I came with such intensity that I could not stop shaking. My legs felt like jello and would have given out from under me if I had attempted to stand. I could feel the juice of my orgasm soaking the bed.

He wasn’t done with me. He moved up my body, with his penis just hovering at the entrance to my portal. I eagerly awaited his plunge into me. He teased me instead by taking his sweet time entering me. Oh the agony! I wanted this beautiful man something fierce. I couldn’t help but gasp aloud when Jean-Pierre finally entered me. He paused for a moment, to allow my body to adjust to his size.

“Does it hurt? I do not wish to cause you any pain.” He whispered as he kissed my ear.

“No. I want you. I want to feel all of you.”

“I am not all the way in but you should only feel pleasure.”

I nodded. Jean-Pierre pushed the rest of the way in and rested a moment before continuing. He had a slow tantalizing rhythm once he was completely inside of me. I started to match his movements but he stopped me. This was his way of controlling his release.

“If you keep doing that, I will cum quickly. I don’t want that. I want to feel your orgasm around me first.”

I whispered, “do you want me to just lay here?”

“Oui, until I say.” He replied with a smile.

I held on to him as he drove into me tenderly. He came so hard that I felt it explode inside of me. Jean-Pierre laid on top of me, giving me soft kisses until he went soft. We fell asleep just as the sun came up.

The Chief, part 6

I wanted him in the worst way. How did this happen? How did I go from not being attracted to him to thinking about marriage? I decided right then and there that I was nuts. The pretentious and snobbish attitudes of my mother’s family would deter an idea of marriage between myself and someone who wasn’t white. Chief was not an European aristocrat. But then again, I never really cared what my family thought of men I dated. If dating is what you could call it. Just because some guy bought me dinner doesn’t make it a “date”. My friend Thea says those are “booty calls” with a public perk!

Half of this particular visit was spent in bed with Chief, the rest of the time I was hanging out. It was my time, although brief, until my actual vacation with Hannah’s girls. They had finally decided on Italy and I had everything booked. I was daydreaming about living someone else’s life when he interrupted my thoughts.

“Helloooo, where were you?” He grinned.

“Oh, um, uh, I was in lala land. You should know me well enough to figure that out.” I felt sheepish for not paying attention.

“I saw that. I hope it was good for you.”

“Nah, not nearly as good as being with you.” I got up and sat on his lap before giving him a kiss.

“Liar. You suck at lying.”

I was busted. I could tell as I stared into his dark brown eyes that it didn’t matter about the other guy in my head. If that other guy actually existed. As for the moment, Chief was the only one I wanted. I could tell the feeling was mutual as I dry humped him in the chair. I got up from his lap and knelt on the floor. His pants were tight but my expertise in undressing men allowed me to quickly free his manhood. I licked his lips before swallowing as much of him as I could take in my mouth. He leaned back into the couch and arched his back. He slid his hips down to make it easier for me work my magic. I learned how to perform oral sex from a gay friend when I was a teenager. My tongue was notorious for making men weak. If I hit it just right, most could lose their load on my command.

We had sex several times that weekend. My favorite kind of sex is “surprise sex”. I was asleep on my stomach in his bed when he slipped in from behind. I was in a dream-like trance and didn’t want to wake up. I moaned intently and I could feel his balls slapping against my clit. It drove me insane. What an incredible orgasm!

Weekends are short. Way too short and underrated if you ask me. I knew this was going to be the last time I would see him for a while. My boss called the day before I left to let me know I was going overseas for a while.