Sunday, December 4, 2011

L'homme français, la partie cinq

“Why did you call me your “girlfriend”? I asked impatiently.

“It’s not like you think. You are a girl and you are my friend.” He frowned at my question. “Is that not acceptable?”

“It’s fine but it took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Marcel, he is different. He is, how do you say… Goes after all women and uses them. Like il les jette ensuite.”

Trash. I understood that word. Jean-Pierre used “girlfriend” as a way to protect me. I could accept his reasoning behind it. I was in a strange place and knew very few people here. It wouldn’t have been difficult for me to get caught up in trouble. I mean, I was leery of some things but I didn’t know everything at my young age.

Jean-Pierre paid the bill and we went for a walk around the city. He held me close to him as he pointed out various attractions of the city. Many places were closed on Sundays, so we made plans to visit them another day. We just wandered around the city until we ended up at a place near the university.

I curiously asked, “Where are we?”

“My home,” he replied.

“Okay.” I was curious to see how he lived.

His flat was small with a communal bathroom. He shared the floor with four other guys. My place must have seemed like a palace compared to this. While his place was tiny, it was very bright and homey. I felt very comfortable in his humble surroundings.

“We won’t stay, is that okay?”

“Sure. Did you want to bring some clothes?” I didn’t waste time in asking him to stay with me.

Oui, I would like that very much. You won’t get bored with me, yes?” He shyly asked in return.

Non. I like you.” I’m bold like that.

Jean-Pierre packed a small bag with a few clothes. He stopped in front of his bookshelf and picked out a couple of books before we left his flat. The walk back to my apartment was quick. I was grateful for this because the weather had turned dreary and started to rain. We quickly ran up to the door of my apartment as the sky opened up. It was a pure downpour!

Once inside my apartment, I lit a fire in the fireplace. It was chilly and since we both were drenched from the rain, we needed to get warm quickly. As I stripped out of my wet clothes, Jean-Pierre came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. His state of arousal was pushing on my back. He was kissing my shoulders. He wasn’t interested in getting any pleasure in return from me. I was enjoying his kisses so much that I didn’t notice that I was shivering. He left me standing in front of the fire and went into the bedroom for a blanket. I moved the unpacked boxes to make room for us to sit on the floor. It would have been too much work to clean off the couch.

When he returned, I was disappointed to see he was no longer aroused. He spread the blanket out on the floor with a couple of pillows. He grabbed one of his books before we laid down. I found myself in his arms with my head on his chest as he read aloud to me from his book. He would stop occasionally to explain what he was reading to me. I dozed off while he read, lost in a state of bliss and contentment.