Parisien Sex

A couple of years ago, I was at a conference in Paris. I always feel extra horny when I am away from home, and had been on the look-out for a woman since my arrival, but without success. On my final evening, I was enjoying an aperitif at a pavement café, near the funicular which goes up to Sacre Coeur. There weren’t many seats available and I was sharing a table with two women.

I always buy French newspapers when in France, but today, I wanted to be noticed as a Brit. I had a copy of my favourite broadsheet with me. This led to one of the women asking if I was on holiday. There was then a wide ranging conversation, but I raised the topic of rivalry between UK and France. I steered the conversation and hoped they would ask me what I thought about the French. They did. I replied, j’adore les Française: I dodged the matter of what I think about the French in general, but used the female form and said that I love French women - les Française and added, ‘Elles sont si chic.’ They laughed and said, ‘So you like French women.’ I replied that it is my only reason for coming to Paris.

It was time to eat so I invited them to join me. One of them declined and had to be going. The other, a dark-haired woman in her early 40’s accepted, so we stayed at the same table and ordered food. In a previous posting, I mentioned that my approach with women is incremental. I paid her compliments about her eyes. Then I touched her hand. Before long, we were holding hands across the table – it’s always part of the seduction process for me. At the end of the meal, it started to rain. There was an awning, but the rain was blowing underneath it, so we ran the 200 yards to the bar in my hotel.

There came a point where I had to be more direct, so I told her that I wanted very much to kiss her. She asked me what was stopping me. Lack of privacy, I said. We went to my room. I never travel without condoms and they were put to good use that night. Sex is usually delicious for me, but that evening with Gille was truly wonderful. She was slim, with beautiful breasts and a forest of black pubic hair. I still have a vivid image of sex with her in a number of positions. Unlike Wendy in San Francisco, I did get her contact details, but alas she now has a new man and doesn’t want to cheat on him. I’ve been back to Paris since, but my luck wasn’t repeated.