I’m going to tell you a story.
This story is about a girl named Louise. I met Louise about two and a half years ago in Paris. I had arrived in France shortly before my birthday in February of 2006 to study and travel until August. I had been “officially” seeing M for about 7 months. Planning for this trip had been under way for more than a year, but when that plane lifted off from the greater Cincinnati airport, I had no idea what I was in for.
There were eight of us from my university who were going to stay at a dorm for international students on the south side of Paris called Cite Universitaire. A quick side note…I have no idea how to make accents on my computer, so my apologies to any French speakers for my lack of proper punctuation. Now, the CU had kids from all over the world who were staying for differing lengths of time, people were constantly coming and going. Luckily enough, two of my best friends had come on the trip too, so the three of us were going out with different people all the time, meeting new faces every night.
Louise was a girl that we met at in a bar directly across the Seine from Notre Dame about a week after we got there. She was from Lyons but had been living in Paris and studying at the Sorbonne for the past year. Her English was not great, but my French was basically nonexistent, so most of our conversations took place in broken English. It turns out she was living with her cousin Renee four stops to the north of us on the RER B which stopped right down the street from the CU. All throughout the winter the two of them would come by to drink wine, socialize and smoke hash.
By the time the trees started budding we had been seeing each other almost everyday. We spent hours in cafes, went on numerous visits to the Louvre, went shopping, drinking and partying like we had known each other for years. Her English had gotten remarkably better and I, the “ugly American,” as she called me, was learning some more French. I had forgotten all about my girlfriend stateside, whom I was calling once a week at best. I imagine it was not easy on her, but she gave me my space.
By the time June rolled around we had spent nearly three months spending time together everyday. It goes without saying that there was a sexual tension building between us which we were both beginning to recognize. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the tone of her voice and feel it in the goodbye kisses to the cheek, which were no longer on the cheek. She would give me a little peck good bye instead of the customary cheek to cheek kisses, which eventually began to drive me mad. I think, however, that I was not the only one.
Let us take a moment for descriptions sake. Louise was goddamned hot. Yeah, I’m sorry for the bluntness, but the woman fucking was the epitome of sexiness. She had long black hair and dark brown eyes and about the tightest little body I had ever seen in my life. We would walk down the boulevards arm in arm and I felt like I was the hottest shit since sliced bread. Adding to her sexiness was her ridiculous sense of style, I have never been that concerned with fashion and such, but this woman looked fucking perfect every time we went out. Anyway, back to the story…
She had spent the night in my dorm and I in her apartment a few times after drinking a little too much wine, but nothing had ever happened. Honestly, I was too scared to make a move, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on and I did NOT want to fuck it up. She would lay there and we would talk until one of us passed out and left the other one to sweat in the ridiculous night heat. One morning we had woken up and she was wrapped around me, we were both covered in sweat. She got up and I watched her pull up her jeans over her perfectly rounded ass. I just about lost it. She leaned in to kiss me goodbye and lingered a bit longer then normal, I thought I was going to pass out. I went back to sleep before class and the smell of her on my sheets was absolutely intoxicating.
The next night a bunch of us went out to sit on the steps of the Sacre Coeur cathedral, mingle with the tourists, drink wine and hang out. Louise and Renee met us there after an hour or so and I swear to God she looked like an angel. She was more dazzling than I had ever seen her before and that was fucking saying something. She leaned in to kiss me hello and told me that she wanted to leave soon, she said, “I think, can we go to the…how do you call it…um…ah the roof, tonight a le Cite?” I told her I would love to do that, so we hung out for a bit before heading for the Metro back to the Cite. All I could think was, “something is definitely different with her tonight,” her walk was confident, as if she had just won the lottery, and she was constantly playing with her hair. Something was up; as I typed in my code to the front door my heart began beating furiously.
We sat on the roof and talked for nearly four and a half hours, watching the Eiffel Tower light up at the beginning of every hour and drinking wine until we were silly. She had been awfully touchy feely and I had to tuck away numerous boners over the course of the conversation. Then she absolutely blew my mind. “Do you like me, Fromage (cheese in French); do you want to have me?” I choked on my wine and about fell of the roof, “Uh…um…yeah…yes yes of course,” couldn’t have sounded stupider. She stood up and kissed me, my mouth melted into hers, I had dreamt of this exact moment nonstop since I arrived in France and it was finally here. She grabbed my hand and led me downstairs.
Walking into my room was like walking into another dimension. Immediately our mouths were connected and we were running our hands over every piece of the other’s body. I could literally feel the tension being relieved as I ran my hands up her shirt and into her bra. She was moaning and was no longer speaking English. Oh my God, I can still remember it so vividly how incredibly sexy her voice was in that beautiful language (it was actually the beginning of an obsession with women’s voices). She stepped back and put one finger over her mouth and said, “Stand there, do not move.” She slipped out of her tank top and undid her bra. I watched in utter amazement as her breasts spilled out the top, she smiled deviously. Stepping out of her pants, I gazed at her standing there wearing nothing. She told me to come closer, I did. She told me to touch her, I did. “Put your fingers in me,” she said, I did. I felt like I was dreaming only I was not asleep; I was awake and alive like I had never felt before.
I remember her gently pushing me back onto the bed and taking off my belt. From this point on the events are a blur of emotion and feeling. I remember her taking me into her mouth and feeling the most incredible sensation moving through my body, I laid down and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. She was worshiping my cock and whispering to me in French, I was in heaven. Slowly she kissed her way up my body until our mouths once again melted into each other. I vividly remember the feeling of her hand tickling my stomach as she reached her hand around me to slip me in. I had never felt anything like that in my life; I was having sex with an angel.
It gets even more blurry from here. It is all a mix of moaning and French musings, to be honest I have ran it through my mind so many times that I can’t remember what happened and what I’ve imagined over time. I remember her and I cumming at the same time and collapsing into a pile of sweat and juices and again melting into each others arms. I told her she had the most beautiful voice in the world. I ran my hands along her curves and she whispered quietly in my ear, switching back and forth between our two languages. I told her I never wanted to leave; she asked me why I couldn’t stay forever. The rest of the night and the next two, as well, continued in the same fashion, we were lost in complete bliss.
Louise went home to Lyons a few days after that night and I never did see her again. I was in class taking a test when she left. Renee told me she didn’t want to tell me she was leaving because she thought it would crush me. The whole time I thought it was going to be me who was leaving, for that I was prepared, this I was not. I was crushed, she was right, but she never saw me weakened, she never saw me broken. I concluded the reason she left the way she did was so that she would always remember me at my best, my peak. Believe me; I have never felt the same as I did those few days before she left, I don’t think I ever will.
I got back to the Cite later that evening, drunk, and found a note slipped under my door, I smelled her perfume as soon as I picked it up. I just stared at it, not opening it, just looking at it for a good five minutes. When I finally opened it, I found something short and sweet; but something that I will never forget until the day I die.
No man has ever touched me like you. I have never felt anything like when I was with you. I will never forget you...
Au revoir amour,
Louise
Those words were like none that I have ever heard. I still have that letter. Sometimes I take it out, look at it and smell it, hoping to take my mind back to a time when I felt something that to this day I still cannot describe.
This story is about a girl named Louise. I met Louise about two and a half years ago in Paris. I had arrived in France shortly before my birthday in February of 2006 to study and travel until August. I had been “officially” seeing M for about 7 months. Planning for this trip had been under way for more than a year, but when that plane lifted off from the greater Cincinnati airport, I had no idea what I was in for.
There were eight of us from my university who were going to stay at a dorm for international students on the south side of Paris called Cite Universitaire. A quick side note…I have no idea how to make accents on my computer, so my apologies to any French speakers for my lack of proper punctuation. Now, the CU had kids from all over the world who were staying for differing lengths of time, people were constantly coming and going. Luckily enough, two of my best friends had come on the trip too, so the three of us were going out with different people all the time, meeting new faces every night.
Louise was a girl that we met at in a bar directly across the Seine from Notre Dame about a week after we got there. She was from Lyons but had been living in Paris and studying at the Sorbonne for the past year. Her English was not great, but my French was basically nonexistent, so most of our conversations took place in broken English. It turns out she was living with her cousin Renee four stops to the north of us on the RER B which stopped right down the street from the CU. All throughout the winter the two of them would come by to drink wine, socialize and smoke hash.
By the time the trees started budding we had been seeing each other almost everyday. We spent hours in cafes, went on numerous visits to the Louvre, went shopping, drinking and partying like we had known each other for years. Her English had gotten remarkably better and I, the “ugly American,” as she called me, was learning some more French. I had forgotten all about my girlfriend stateside, whom I was calling once a week at best. I imagine it was not easy on her, but she gave me my space.
By the time June rolled around we had spent nearly three months spending time together everyday. It goes without saying that there was a sexual tension building between us which we were both beginning to recognize. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the tone of her voice and feel it in the goodbye kisses to the cheek, which were no longer on the cheek. She would give me a little peck good bye instead of the customary cheek to cheek kisses, which eventually began to drive me mad. I think, however, that I was not the only one.
Let us take a moment for descriptions sake. Louise was goddamned hot. Yeah, I’m sorry for the bluntness, but the woman fucking was the epitome of sexiness. She had long black hair and dark brown eyes and about the tightest little body I had ever seen in my life. We would walk down the boulevards arm in arm and I felt like I was the hottest shit since sliced bread. Adding to her sexiness was her ridiculous sense of style, I have never been that concerned with fashion and such, but this woman looked fucking perfect every time we went out. Anyway, back to the story…
She had spent the night in my dorm and I in her apartment a few times after drinking a little too much wine, but nothing had ever happened. Honestly, I was too scared to make a move, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on and I did NOT want to fuck it up. She would lay there and we would talk until one of us passed out and left the other one to sweat in the ridiculous night heat. One morning we had woken up and she was wrapped around me, we were both covered in sweat. She got up and I watched her pull up her jeans over her perfectly rounded ass. I just about lost it. She leaned in to kiss me goodbye and lingered a bit longer then normal, I thought I was going to pass out. I went back to sleep before class and the smell of her on my sheets was absolutely intoxicating.
The next night a bunch of us went out to sit on the steps of the Sacre Coeur cathedral, mingle with the tourists, drink wine and hang out. Louise and Renee met us there after an hour or so and I swear to God she looked like an angel. She was more dazzling than I had ever seen her before and that was fucking saying something. She leaned in to kiss me hello and told me that she wanted to leave soon, she said, “I think, can we go to the…how do you call it…um…ah the roof, tonight a le Cite?” I told her I would love to do that, so we hung out for a bit before heading for the Metro back to the Cite. All I could think was, “something is definitely different with her tonight,” her walk was confident, as if she had just won the lottery, and she was constantly playing with her hair. Something was up; as I typed in my code to the front door my heart began beating furiously.
We sat on the roof and talked for nearly four and a half hours, watching the Eiffel Tower light up at the beginning of every hour and drinking wine until we were silly. She had been awfully touchy feely and I had to tuck away numerous boners over the course of the conversation. Then she absolutely blew my mind. “Do you like me, Fromage (cheese in French); do you want to have me?” I choked on my wine and about fell of the roof, “Uh…um…yeah…yes yes of course,” couldn’t have sounded stupider. She stood up and kissed me, my mouth melted into hers, I had dreamt of this exact moment nonstop since I arrived in France and it was finally here. She grabbed my hand and led me downstairs.
Walking into my room was like walking into another dimension. Immediately our mouths were connected and we were running our hands over every piece of the other’s body. I could literally feel the tension being relieved as I ran my hands up her shirt and into her bra. She was moaning and was no longer speaking English. Oh my God, I can still remember it so vividly how incredibly sexy her voice was in that beautiful language (it was actually the beginning of an obsession with women’s voices). She stepped back and put one finger over her mouth and said, “Stand there, do not move.” She slipped out of her tank top and undid her bra. I watched in utter amazement as her breasts spilled out the top, she smiled deviously. Stepping out of her pants, I gazed at her standing there wearing nothing. She told me to come closer, I did. She told me to touch her, I did. “Put your fingers in me,” she said, I did. I felt like I was dreaming only I was not asleep; I was awake and alive like I had never felt before.
I remember her gently pushing me back onto the bed and taking off my belt. From this point on the events are a blur of emotion and feeling. I remember her taking me into her mouth and feeling the most incredible sensation moving through my body, I laid down and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. She was worshiping my cock and whispering to me in French, I was in heaven. Slowly she kissed her way up my body until our mouths once again melted into each other. I vividly remember the feeling of her hand tickling my stomach as she reached her hand around me to slip me in. I had never felt anything like that in my life; I was having sex with an angel.
It gets even more blurry from here. It is all a mix of moaning and French musings, to be honest I have ran it through my mind so many times that I can’t remember what happened and what I’ve imagined over time. I remember her and I cumming at the same time and collapsing into a pile of sweat and juices and again melting into each others arms. I told her she had the most beautiful voice in the world. I ran my hands along her curves and she whispered quietly in my ear, switching back and forth between our two languages. I told her I never wanted to leave; she asked me why I couldn’t stay forever. The rest of the night and the next two, as well, continued in the same fashion, we were lost in complete bliss.
Louise went home to Lyons a few days after that night and I never did see her again. I was in class taking a test when she left. Renee told me she didn’t want to tell me she was leaving because she thought it would crush me. The whole time I thought it was going to be me who was leaving, for that I was prepared, this I was not. I was crushed, she was right, but she never saw me weakened, she never saw me broken. I concluded the reason she left the way she did was so that she would always remember me at my best, my peak. Believe me; I have never felt the same as I did those few days before she left, I don’t think I ever will.
I got back to the Cite later that evening, drunk, and found a note slipped under my door, I smelled her perfume as soon as I picked it up. I just stared at it, not opening it, just looking at it for a good five minutes. When I finally opened it, I found something short and sweet; but something that I will never forget until the day I die.
No man has ever touched me like you. I have never felt anything like when I was with you. I will never forget you...
Au revoir amour,
Louise
Those words were like none that I have ever heard. I still have that letter. Sometimes I take it out, look at it and smell it, hoping to take my mind back to a time when I felt something that to this day I still cannot describe.
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