I arrived to Paris with more phone numbers than free nights. I was determined to meet people and have sex with the most amount of people possible. I wanted to prove to myself that I was still out there and I wanted to shake the blues away. I thought I would rest the Monday night and just lay low that evening but as soon as I arrived to the hotel, I had a message from a first suitor. It was this tanned (he happened to be from Lebanon) orthodontist (which was the same to me as dentist) that had chatted with me a couple of days ago. He seemed fun, a bit cocky and he worked also some days a month in my home town. Since I had also been in Beirut, we hitted off and I decided to give him the first night. He came to pick me up to the hotel in this little sports car with red leather seats. His smile was beaming inside and I thought “You definitely are good at what you do and have the money to prove it!” I was looking good and feeling confident about it so I just acted cool. We immediately started chatting and I was feeling comfortable with him. There was something about him that made me feel at ease. I guess it was his smile, the way he looked me in the eyes when he talked to me and his confidence that did the trick. We decided to go to Red, a bar in the Marais which was the only one that had some people on a Monday night. We came to the conversation of music (I hate regular club music – death to electronica and house) and he asked me, if I was such a fan of the 80’s, who was singing on the radio. It was pure luck but I said “Paul Simon”. I was right. He was impressed. I scored. We parked the car and before getting out, we kissed. We kissed as if we had kissed a million times before. No hesitation, no shiver, no anticipation… we just kissed, looked at each other, smiled and carried on as if it was just another kiss.
As we walked in the club, I felt eyes turning toward me. I was new meat in the market and the regulars were checking me out. He decided to show me around the club, like if he owned the place. I could understand that he was a regular as well. We walked into the bar and he ordered our drinks saying “I’ll buy the first round.”. “You cocky mother!”, I thought. As the bartender put the drinks on the bar, I reached over him (he was shorter than me) and took care of the check. He argued with me. I smile and just replied “Better be quick!”. We sat on some stools available and continued our chatting. We were feeling good with one another and our body language (and body contact) was proof of that. In comes the friend that he told me might come as well. He introduced me and he was my sort of bloke that, to make me feel comfortable, disses his friend and tries to demystify him. After a while we decided to get out of there and he wanted to take me to a bears bar. It never was my cup of tea but I was willing to go. For my luck, the place was empty and we turned around. “Ok. If you want to take me somewhere, take me to the Sacre Coeur. I would love to see it.”, I said. With a smile on his face, he just walked me to the car and got the directions from the GPS.
As we walked in the club, I felt eyes turning toward me. I was new meat in the market and the regulars were checking me out. He decided to show me around the club, like if he owned the place. I could understand that he was a regular as well. We walked into the bar and he ordered our drinks saying “I’ll buy the first round.”. “You cocky mother!”, I thought. As the bartender put the drinks on the bar, I reached over him (he was shorter than me) and took care of the check. He argued with me. I smile and just replied “Better be quick!”. We sat on some stools available and continued our chatting. We were feeling good with one another and our body language (and body contact) was proof of that. In comes the friend that he told me might come as well. He introduced me and he was my sort of bloke that, to make me feel comfortable, disses his friend and tries to demystify him. After a while we decided to get out of there and he wanted to take me to a bears bar. It never was my cup of tea but I was willing to go. For my luck, the place was empty and we turned around. “Ok. If you want to take me somewhere, take me to the Sacre Coeur. I would love to see it.”, I said. With a smile on his face, he just walked me to the car and got the directions from the GPS.
The night was chilly and misty. Rain kept pouring on and off as we were strolling around the cathedral. The lights were dim at 1.30 in the morning and only the tip of the dome was lit. He showed me his favourite view of the monument and it was really beautiful. I just decide to embrace him and we kissed once again, right there, next to the nuns quarters. We came to the front again, walked down the stairs and we had entire Paris at our feet. The view was something coming out of an old gothic book and it was the perfect setting for us. Again we were in each other arms and kissed romantically on top of Paris. Finally I understood this city title! It was one of the most romantic things I had ever done! We decided to go back to the hotel and I invited him up. I just didn’t want this night to end and, apparently, neither did he. The sex, for me, was incredible. Nice, sensuous, slow, discovering each other bodies and trying to give the maximum pleasure to the other as possible. He had this perfect fit body that I could just not get enough. Touching his arms and feeling his muscles, running my fingers through his back, feeling his perfect round butt and letting my hands go down to his thighs. His neck line with this perfect cropped hair were like a glove to my hand that pulled his face closer to mine so I can shower his lips with kisses. Our tongues seemed to melt together, as if it always had been there and we were in perfect synch with each other. I fell asleep at 5 am, with a day long meeting the next day at 11.30.
The next day I just felt good about myself. This total stranger had treated me like I wanted to be treated. It seemed that he knew exactly what made me tick and I had forgotten all the other phone numbers I had on my list. But I had decided to treat this as a fabulous one night stand and make nothing more of it. When I arrived to my hotel room that night, my phone had a message from him, sent that afternoon. “Just to wish you a good meeting and give you a kiss”. Fuck the others! “Do you fancy a coffee tonight?” An hour later, he was at my hotel door, picking me up again. Mind you that he lived outside Paris so I was really impressed by his willingness.
As I hoped in the car, I surprised him with a box of macaroons and gave him a kiss like I would to my long time partner. He replied with the same naturalness and we drove off. He took me to the Notre Dame, like if it was my first time in Paris and we went down on some Quai to walk along the Seine. The shores were absolutely deserted and there were rats under the bridges and the moonlight was reflecting on the river as we looked at the back of the Notre Dame. Right there, under the streets, it felt the city was ours and we were inside a Poe tale. We just walked the streets of Paris finding some place to have a relaxed coffee. We finally found a place in front of the Pompidou and we sat outside so I could smoke. The place was inhabited by these artistic night crawlers and us, that kept talking and laughing and teasing and making fun of each other. I felt like a kid with his boyfriend that in between jokes would kiss his man to make him realise that I was just kidding. And he would do the same. At two something in the morning I saw him fiddling with the bill that was long on the table. “What are you doing?!”, I asked. “Being quicker!”
As we were driving on the way back to the hotel, he looks at the watch and puts his foot down on the gas. “We have 4 minutes!”, he says. We arrive to the Eiffel Tower just in time to see it start to shine with thousands of blinking lights. It felt like a shower of stars on top of us, as we kissed in the cold night.
He dropped me in the hotel and we said goodnight. He didn’t come up.
I could not wait for the fucking meetings to end and I still had drinks to attend to. I was so not in the mood for social calls and I just wanted to pick up the phone and call him. Finally it was over and I was dialling his number. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” “I don’t think I can. I am supposed to go to a football match with a friend. Let me call you in 10 minutes.” “So, shall I pick you up in 45 minutes?” I was fucking beaming!!! We went to this lovely restaurant that he normally goes to to have confit de canard and foi gras. I invited him to spend the night but he can’t, as he has things to do early in the morning. Without me saying anything, he just parks the car and comes with me to the hotel room. Once again our bodies are together, naked. I just wanted to give him pleasure and I kiss him all over his body, to take him in my mouth. He wants to hold but I tell him to just let go and enjoy it. He finally comes over me and I keep sucking him nice and slow, until he gets hard again. I could have gone like this forever but he stops me and makes me roll to my stomach. He gives me the most sensuous body massage. Feeling him on top of me, his hands running through every centimetre of my body and his lips kissing my skin was driving me insane. He masturbated me until I could not take it anymore and we finish on each others arms, exhausted. The pleasure he gave me was amazing, totally unselfish. We both wanted to take care of the other and make him feel good and it felt beautiful.
He calls me the next day and tells me that he is too tired and not feeling well so he would stay in that night but that he wanted to take me to the airport. At 4.30 pm of Friday, I am putting my luggage inside his red leather seat car.
“What’s wrong with you?”, he asks. “Nothing. I’m ok.”. I wasn’t. I hated goodbyes and I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. Something had happened that week and I didn’t want to loose it. I had decided to take it as it was: an incredible, fantastic week but again, my heart was not obeying my head. This perfect stranger, without knowing anything about me, my situation, my state of heart, had gave me everything I ever wanted in a guy, without asking anything in return. Traffic. He changes routes. I find myself driving through residential areas. I wish he took me to his place. I tell him that. I tell him that I can stay. He doesn’t answer. We keep driving. We start talking about music to ease the tension. I tell him what I like. He tells me that he adores Kate Bush. I tell him that I stay if he wants me to. He refuses to make a decision. I have 10 minutes before my check in closes. We are still driving. I don’t want to stay because I lost my plane but because he wants me to. We arrive to the airport but a truck is blocking the road. I get out of the car and run to the check in. He doesn’t stop me. He meets me outside while I’m smoking a cigarette and starts joking about. “Are we gonna fuck about or are we gonna talk about this?”, I ask him. The questions are all there. What happened? What are we gonna do about it? Are we gonna leave it as it is or are we gonna try and work something out? Are we gonna see each other again? When? Are we gonna drag this or just keep it in our memories? None of us has answers for this and none of us are ready to give them. I want to try. He doesn’t know. We will leave it for the future to decide and I see the tears in his eyes while he sees the tears in mine. We don’t cry as we hug each other. “I wanted to kiss you but I don’t feel comfortable with all these people around.”, he says. By this time I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to go away. He walks me to the security check and there is this monstrous cue. Fuck!!! He stays there with me. We both are nervous. He goes in to the funny route, I go to the bitter route. We both have to calm down. This is hard for both of us and knowing that gives me some comfort. As I walk closer to the security check, he pulls my face and kisses my lips. I hold him in my arms and kiss him back. I go through the line and don’t look back as he is left behind. My phone rings. It’s him. I can’t find my fucking boarding gate and I want to hang up. It’s the other fucking way. I go back. “I have to go.” “Wait! Turn around”. Through the glass I see him looking at me with that perfect smile on his face. He is still there, waving me goodbye and talking to me on the phone. “I want to say something that I will regret.”. “Don’t say it.”, he replies. As I hung up the phone, I softly whisper. “I love you.”
7 comments:
:) mmmm naughty P.A eu preocupadinha e o menino a divertir-se...a deixar-se ficar pelo beicinho logo assim? Seu coração mimoso que só quer ternura. Mmmm estou aqui a pensar, se se deixar ficar down com o adeus não vai saber aproveitar as boas memórias...né? Beijinho grande e ainda bem que voltou, já estava tristinha :)
O adeus foi um down momentaneo. As memórias, essas, ficam para a vida!!
O mito confirma-se. Paris é a cidade do amor :) muitos beijinhos!!!
Word of the day...
ser⋅en⋅dip⋅i⋅ty [ser-uhn-dip-i-tee]
–noun
1. an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.
2. good fortune;
YOU BASTARD! HIT IT!
Uauuuu... Que história apaixonante amigo!!! Mas às vezes mais vale deixar que os bons momentos fiquem guardados para sempre... Um beijinho enoooorme :)
E viva os (orto)dentistas, os libaneses e claro Paris , a cidade das luzes e do amor!!!
Amor, que história emocionante, estás uma Carrie!
Jinhos Xana
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