ATasteofParis (2 page)

She bucked like a woman possessed, her lips pressed tightly together, probably in a combination of concentration and the effort to keep quiet. Her movements were so erratic that it took Ryan a while to get into a rhythm, but once he did, their fucking became faster and more frantic, to the extent that he half wondered if he’d end up with friction burns on his cock.

Suddenly Blanche reached down and shoved a hand between their bodies. He felt her knuckles bashing against his pubic mound with every meeting of their skin as she stroked her clit. She was clearly hitting the spot, as she slowed her thrusts and her arm jerked faster and faster. After a few more seconds, he felt her internal muscles tighten around his shaft. At the same time, Blanche pressed her free hand over her mouth, and her eyes rolled back in her head once more as she gave herself over to orgasm.

The sight of her jiggling tits and the spasming of her pussy around him was enough to send him over the edge too. A couple more thrusts and he let out a hiss—a sign of his restraint, as he really wanted to roar—as he spurted into the latex sheath, his entire body feeling as if it were on fire. In a good way.

He slumped over Blanche’s limp form, still holding his weight on his arms. Pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, he paused for a few seconds before rolling off her and wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the used condom.

Luckily Blanche solved that problem. Giving a satisfied sigh, she sat up slowly and gave him a lazy smile before speaking.

“There is a box of tissues in the top drawer of the filing cabinet. Wrap it up and leave it on the table. I’ll get rid of it.”

He nodded and did as she said then pulled his boxers and jeans back up before doing up his fly and belt. He watched as Blanche sorted herself out too, finally slipping her feet back into her discarded shoes. She wasn’t making any kind of eye contact or an attempt at conversation, so he took that as a sign she wanted him to leave. He could understand it—any minute now one of her colleagues could come looking for her.

“See you around,” he said, attempting to tidy his post-sex hairstyle for the second time that day.

“Paris is a big city,” she replied, straightening her skirt. “Unless you’re planning on coming back here, I doubt it.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact and Ryan shrugged.

“Well, then. Maybe I’ll see you the next time I’m in Paris.”

Blanche waved her fingers at him as he picked up his bag and turned to leave. He was a little surprised she hadn’t spoken, but, as he’d decided when she’d disappeared on the train, that suited him just fine.

Ryan walked up the street toward the hostel, wondering if Kristian had made it. He’d been so distracted about going to explore The Louvre that he’d replied to Kristian’s text message earlier without considering how his friend would find the Parisian Metro system. It was very similar to the London Underground, but Kristian didn’t have much experience of that either. Bugger.

He chastised himself. Kristian was inexperienced, not stupid. There were enough signs in the underground stations. But then he realized something else—he hadn’t even told his friend the address of the hostel, the nearest Metro station or anything. Bollocks! He checked his phone and found nothing—surely if Kristian had struggled, he’d have sent him a text message or phoned him?

As he reached the front of the hostel, noting again how the funky exterior architecture had clearly been designed to appeal to people of his age, he saw his friend and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Kris!” he said, drawing closer and clapping him on the shoulder. “You made it!”

Kristian gave a wry grin. “Yeah, no thanks to you! It wasn’t until I got to Paris that it occurred to me I didn’t have a fucking clue where I was going.”

“Why didn’t you phone me, then?”

“I did. But I kept getting a message saying you weren’t available. Did you have your phone off or something?”

“No, it was on silent while I was in The Louvre though. Maybe my signal went or something? That place has some pretty thick walls.”

Kristian shrugged. “Don’t worry, mate, I’m here now. I was all touristy and I went and bought a map and then found the address of this place on my phone.”

“Come on,” Ryan said, heading for the bar that adjoined the hostel, “let me buy you a drink by way of apology and you can tell me how your dad is.”

Several minutes later, they were seated at a table and catching up—considering they’d been apart for such a short space of time, they had a lot to talk about. Dave, Kristian’s dad, was absolutely fine—well, fine considering he’d had a minor heart attack, which was why Kristian hadn’t come to Paris from London with Ryan as originally planned. They’d gotten Dave to hospital quickly and he was out of danger. He’d been happy to see his son, but insisted that he continued his trip.

“He said there was nothing I could do if I stayed at home, so I should get the next Eurostar out to meet you. I wasn’t keen on leaving him so soon, but he insisted. So I did.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. And I’m really glad he’s all right too. You didn’t miss much. Only me getting with three women, two of them twice!”

“Fuck off!” Kristian said, mock punching his friend on the arm. “So what did you do really?”

Ryan glared.

“What? Are you fucking serious?”

Ryan nodded.

“Bloody hell. Tell me everything.”

By the time Ryan had finished relating what had happened, Kristian was dumbfounded. He drained his pint then put his glass down. “God, I knew you were a chick magnet, but that really takes the cake. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be lucky if those condoms last you until Rome, never mind until we go home again. I’d better buy a box of my own rather than relying on pinching a couple of yours. It looks as though you’re going to need every single one.”

“Don’t worry, Kris, we’ll find a chemist at some point and you can stock up. It’s your round.” He gestured to his empty glass.

“Same again, yeah? Shall we grab something to eat while we’re here? Are we staying here all evening or heading out somewhere else?”

“Well, we need to get you set up with some rubbers, don’t we? So let’s eat then go out.”

A burger and a pint each later and the men left the bar. “So,” Kristian said, “where to?”

“Oh, just you wait. I have a very fun evening in store for you.”

A little later, Ryan couldn’t help but smirk as they climbed the steps out of Blanche Metro station. Thanks to his little…whatever it had been with Blanche, that name would always have grin-worthy connotations for him. His smile widened as he watched his friend’s expression turn incredulous as he looked around him.

“God, what is this, the Red Light District or something?”

“It’s Paris’ version, I believe. This area is packed full of sex shops, strip clubs and, luckily for you, chemists. The Moulin Rouge is just up there too.”

“Cool. So what are we doing here? Going to a strip club?”

“Maybe later. I have something else in mind first.”

With that, Ryan walked to the zebra crossing and waited to make absolutely sure the cars were stopping before he crossed. Parisian motorists were notorious for being insane. He looked to make sure Kristian was with him and when they got to the pavement, he turned right. He could see the sign advertising their destination and he nudged his friend and pointed.

“What? Oh, there. We’re going to the…Musée de l’érotisme?” He paused. “
The erotic museum?
God, what’s in there? Naked women on pedestals?”

“Just wait and see. It’s a good laugh.”

They’d been in there for less than ten minutes and already Kristian had agreed with Ryan’s comment. One of the first things they’d seen was an enormous marble phallus, and the place certainly started as it meant to go on. They pointed and sniggered their way through paintings, sculptures, models, crockery, wooden carvings and more, all featuring something sublimely smutty. Penises, vaginas—often in the act of penetration—breasts, dildos…the list went on. Through seven floors, to be exact. There was even a porno film playing on a TV on one of the floors.

“Actually,” Kristian said as they entered an area full of paintings, “some of these are very beautiful. You know me, I’m no art buff, most of this stuff just makes me laugh. But I could actually imagine having one of these on a wall in my house. Not right now, obviously. I don’t think Mum would go for it. But when I have my own place, I’d totally have nudie paintings. It’d have to go in the bedroom though—I can’t think of anything more awkward than sitting in a living room with your family and friends with a painting of a shagging couple over the fireplace, can you?”

“I know what you mean, mate. But all of it is really good in terms of the skill required to make it—even the funny stuff. I bet some people pass this place by because they think it’s just pure filth—which I suppose it is, in a way—but actually, for people who enjoy art, this is a fantastic museum.”

Kristian nodded. “Definitely. And that’s coming from me—a guy who got his dad to fake having a heart attack so he could go home and not have to go to The Louvre!”

Ryan elbowed his friend “There’s time yet—I’d be happy to go back.”

Kristian pulled a face. “I’ll skip it, thanks. It’s my first time in Paris—there’s lots I want to see. And yet, where’s the first place you bring me? An erotic museum. What a great friend you really are.”

Ryan gave a fake scowl. “I know. I’m just the best friend a guy could ever want. Seriously though, mate, I’m just trying to make the most of our time here. I knew this place was open late and there’s not much else we could have done at this time of night, is there? We can hit all the other places tomorrow. The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Notre Dame.”

“Sounds good. So, you said we don’t have any set plans now, didn’t you? We can stay here as long as we like before heading to Rome?”

Ryan nodded. “Yup. That’s the plan going forward now, so if we don’t like a place we can skip out when we want, but if we like it, we can stay longer.”

“A fabulous idea, my friend. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I knew there was a reason I let you organize this trip.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, mate. You don’t know where we’re going when we’re done here.”

Kristian looked at his watch. “It’s nearly eleven, so back to the hostel, surely? Especially if we want to get on with some sightseeing tomorrow?”

Ryan laughed, causing a couple on the other side of the room to turn and look at him. He gave them an apologetic smile then clipped Kristian around the back of the head.

“Are you having a laugh? We’re in Paris’ red light district and you want to go back and get some sleep? I don’t bloody think so! We can stay in this city for a month if we want to. We’ve got plenty of time to do everything we want. So right now we’re going to have some serious fun!”

Kristian rubbed the spot Ryan had hit. “I needed that. What the fuck was I thinking? Go to fucking bed. If I say anything as boring again on this trip, you have my express permission to slap me upside the head anytime you deem necessary. Lead on—let’s paint this town red.”

He yelped as he got another smack. “Ow, what was that for?”

“
Paint this town red?
What are you, a hundred? God, I can’t believe you just said that!”

Kristian had the good sense to look ashamed. “It was stupid, wasn’t it? I think I just got overexcited and it caused my vocabulary skills to break down. Sorry. I won’t say it again—ever.”

“I’m glad to bloody hear it.”

Ryan and Kristian left the museum—though not before having a good look around the shop and buying a postcard each as a memento—and headed back out onto the street. In this part of Paris, there was a particular type of nightlife, and it was just getting started. They walked a little way down the road and Ryan noticed something and nudged his friend.

“Hey, I bet that
erotic supermarket
will sell condoms. Want to have a look?”

Kristian shrugged. “Why not? I’m intrigued as to why it’s called a supermarket as opposed to just a shop. Reckon it’s the size of your average supermarket at home?”

The boys laughed and jostled each other before heading inside. They were quickly baffled about why it was classed as a supermarket. It didn’t look any different than your average sex shop, albeit larger. It was full of the usual paraphernalia—PVC clothes, sex toys, BDSM equipment, DVDs and more.

“Fucking hell,” Ryan said, tugging at Kristian’s sleeve and pointing at something. They moved across the shop to get a closer look.

“Shit,” Kristian said. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ryan didn’t want to pick the item up, but he bent and examined it closely. “Yeah, I think it is. It’s one hell of an enormous strap-on. God, I wouldn’t like to walk into my bedroom and find my missus wearing that. Not unless we were planning a threesome with another girl. Fuck.”

Kristian sniggered. “I guess that’s why they’ve put this next to it.” He indicated a huge bottle of lubricant. “God, that’s industrial sized. I dread to think who’d have that in their bedside cabinet.”

“It looks like it belongs on a porno set. Where there’s gang-banging involved.”

“Too fucking right!”

They laughed, drawing a glare from the grossly overweight woman behind the till. They exchanged an “oops” look and continued browsing the shop.

“Hey,” Ryan said, moving over to a rack. “Here are the condoms. Now where are the extra-small ones?”

“Fuck you. There’s nothing wrong with the size of my dick. And you shouldn’t be looking anyway!”

They stifled their laughter, not wanting to attract any more dirty looks from the grumpy cashier.

Several minutes later they were back outside, Kristian having purchased what he needed. He clearly wasn’t feeling overly optimistic as he’d only bought a box of six. Ryan called him out on it.

“Hey, what can I say, mate? You’re the one the ladies are drawn to and I just get the odd pity fuck from their friends. So actually, I’d say six shags would be pretty good going!”

Ryan contemplated his friend’s words for a few seconds. “Well, you’ve only ever tried your luck in England before. Perhaps foreign birds will find you irresistible. You might end up getting more girls than me!”

Kristian brightened and he stuffed his purchase into his bag before they headed for their next destination. “Where exactly are we going, Ryan?”

“Up until two seconds ago, I hadn’t decided. But now I have.
There.
”He pointed to a frontage that was covered in neon signs and had scantily clad women standing just beneath its porch, showing off their wares to potential customers.

Kristian grinned. “Yep, I like the look of that. Let’s go.”

The two men continued up the pavement until they reached the establishment they’d agreed on, big smiles on their faces as they got closer looks at the ladies in charge of enticing men inside.

“Hello, gentlemen,” said a very busty blue-eyed blonde wearing what could only be described as underwear teamed with skyscraper heels and a feather boa. Ryan had expected her to be French, but her accent sounded Polish. “Would you like to come and see our peep show?” She batted her eyelashes and fixed the boys with a come-hither stare.

“Hey, you don’t have to try to persuade us, gorgeous,” Ryan said. “That’s why we’re here. Lead the way.”

The woman walked between the two men and slipped her arms into theirs and led them inside. Just before they were swallowed by the darkness of the building, Ryan and Kristian looked at each other over her head and exchanged excited smiles.

They followed the blonde down a very dim corridor with tiny bulbs set at regular intervals into the black walls. Ryan supposed it was meant to look like stars in the night sky or something. But he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to believe that. He wasn’t drunk at all, in fact. He’d only had two pints back at the pub with his dinner and he didn’t like to get wasted anymore. He hated the feeling of having a hangover and besides, if you were too pissed you wouldn’t remember what you’d done the night before. And where was the fun in that?

Soon the corridor opened out into a wider room and in one corner was a booth with a surly-looking man sitting inside it. The woman guided them over to it. “Here is where you pay. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” She blew them a kiss, waved and walked back the way they’d come in.

Kristian turned to Ryan. “Bugger, she’s gone back outside. I was hoping to get to see her doing something filthy. She was gorgeous.”

“You don’t get to pick the girls, mate. This isn’t a brothel.” He turned to the man behind the window. “Two, please.”

The man grunted and pressed some buttons on the till next to him before mumbling the price. Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d said, so he craned his neck to read what it said on the till then handed over the appropriate—and surprisingly cheap—fee and took the proferred tickets with an exaggerated, “Thank you!”

“Rude fucker,” Ryan said to Kristian as they walked toward the door that had been pointed out to them. “He shouldn’t be working with the public with an attitude like that.”

Kristian grinned. “Probably most of the blokes that come here are so desperate to get in and see some naked women that they’d barely notice that miserable twat.”

“True. I’m certainly not averse to seeing naked women—in fact I’m very much looking forward to it—but people like that do my head in.”

“Come on.” Kristian nudged his friend before opening the door. “Get in there. You’ll soon forget about old grumpy fucker there once you see some tits.”

“All right, all right. I’m going.”

The men made their way into the next room. It took Ryan a moment to figure out what he was seeing, as he’d never been to a peep show before.

In front of him was a structure—which he suspected was circular, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure from this angle—that was divided into sections. Each of the sections had a curtain drawn across it. He and Kristian walked around until they found two adjacent booths, shared a grin then walked to their respective areas. Ryan tugged his curtain shut, making absolutely sure there were no gaps at the sides of it. He didn’t know why, as if anyone happened to walk past his closed curtain all they’d see would be his back anyway. Regardless, though, if he was going to get his rocks off to a naked chick, he wanted his privacy.

Satisfied he couldn’t be seen, he turned to check out his new environment. If he was honest, it didn’t really inspire eroticism. He hoped the girl who would appear behind the glass would counteract that though. The booth was around the size of the average changing room and very dimly lit. There was a leather chair in front of the glass—the thought “wipe clean” had run through Ryan’s mind before he could stop it—and a box of tissues was mounted in a holder attached to the wall. Then next to the tissues was a slot. A coin slot.

“Fucking hell,” Ryan said. “No wonder the entrance fee was so cheap. You have to pay again to actually see anything!” He rolled his eyes at the injustice, slightly cheered by the fact that Kristian was probably having the same grumble to himself in the next booth.

Digging around in his pocket for some change, he pulled it all out and put it on the ledge in front of the glass then settled into the chair. Leaning forward, he sorted out all the euro coins and pushed them closer to the slot, ready to keep putting them in as and when it was necessary.

After a pause, in which Ryan anticipated exactly what he was going to see, he dropped a euro into the slot. A second passed then the light that had shone from…somewhere, he didn’t know where, disappeared and allowed him to see through the glass to what was beyond. And the view was very nice indeed.

A voluptuous brunette was on a circular platform that was slowly rotating, meaning that all the booths got an equal view. She wore black lacy lingerie—although Ryan could see that it wasn’t
strictly
lingerie, as the bra had holes where the woman’s nipples were. He suspected that the panties were probably crotchless too. Her shoes looked as if they belonged on a porn star—black patent leather with a very high, clear plastic heel. Perhaps she was a porn star, stripping and performing for men in her spare time to earn even more cash.

Despite the seediness of it all, Ryan found himself getting aroused. He was a young red-blooded straight male, after all. The sight of a scantily clad, attractive woman with very large breasts cavorting in front of him was bound to get his hormones pumping. The best part was that her tits looked real—he disliked implants and could never understand why women would mess around with their bodies that way. He liked to squeeze and play with a pair of boobs without worrying he was going to pop them.

For now the brunette was standing on the platform, blowing kisses and giving saucy wiggles to each window she passed. Shifting his focus beyond the girl, he noticed that the glass of the windows wasn’t two-way. The woman couldn’t see who was in the booths—or, indeed, whether there was anyone in there. For all she knew, she could be performing without an audience. She didn’t seem to care about that though—she was giving it her all, flirting like crazy with a bunch of unknown men.

After a couple of rotations, the woman upped her game. Lowering herself into a crouch, she placed her hands on her knees and kept opening and closing her legs as she got to each window, giving each man a flash of her crotch. It wouldn’t be long before Ryan’s suspicions about her underwear were proven one way or the other. His semi-erect cock stiffened further in anticipation as he waited for the woman to appear in front of him.

Presently she did and her legs were wide open, allowing his gaze to feast on what was between. He gasped. Her cunt looked delicious. Pink, slick—though he figured that was lube, unless she was turned-on by performing—and eminently fuckable. What surprised him, though, was the glint of silver he’d seen nestling in her most private place. She was pierced. He wasn’t entirely sure whether it was her clit or its hood that had the bar through it, but it didn’t matter. The mere thought of it had sent blood thundering to his cock and he was now so hard it hurt.

He couldn’t resist any longer. He did what every other man in the room was probably doing—he took out his cock and started to stroke it. There was already a gathering of pre-cum at its tip, and he rubbed his palm in it and used the liquid as lube to make his ministrations smoother and more pleasurable. Though of course he’d rather not be wanking at all—he’d rather be slamming the brunette onto her back on that damn platform and sticking his cock inside her juicy pussy, feeling the metal bar grinding against his pubic bone as he pounded her. Then he’d pull out and let his spunk loose all over those delicious tits.

Whoa.
He snatched his hand away from his prick. God, he’d almost come then, and all from the sight of some perky nipples and a pierced pussy. He’d had no idea a bloody peep show would turn him on so much. Suddenly he was very glad of the box of tissues mounted on the wall in front of him. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

The girl had now taken to crawling on her hands and knees, giving her watchers a good view of her delectable arse. Once more, Ryan could hardly wait for her to pass by again. As he waited, he grasped his cock and pumped it slowly—enough to keep him hard but not enough to make him come. He hoped.

The brunette inched closer and closer to his window, and when her gorgeous rounded buttocks appeared in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between them and lick her. Her pussy and her arse, in fact. Fortunately his painfully slow movements meant that he was in perfect control and in no danger of exploding any time soon—his previous race to climax had thankfully receded.

Unfortunately, though, the girl’s performance grew filthier and filthier. After giving the patrons a good look at her backside, she rolled over, spread her legs and began to finger her pussy. Ryan found himself leaning closer and closer to the glass, as though his eagerness would make the platform move faster and place the delicious image right in front of him. He was so intent on the woman that he was barely aware of anything else. He didn’t realize just how hard and fast he was yanking his cock until his balls tightened and he was on the very knife-edge of climax.

A sharp tug of his balls and a very tight grip around the base of his shaft saw off his orgasm for a second time, but Ryan suspected he wouldn’t be so lucky a third time, so he tucked his hands beneath his thighs to stop himself from masturbating and continued to peer through the window.

The girl stroked herself faster and faster and by the time she was level with Ryan again, he could see a small puddle beneath her. God, she was seriously wet. Perhaps she fantasized as she performed, helping her to give the right reactions and eventually make herself climax. She was certainly convincing Ryan, anyway. She didn’t come across as a reluctant sex worker who was doing the job because she had no other choice. On the contrary, she appeared to be having the time of her life—one could fake smiles and even body language to an extent, but how on earth could one fabricate a trickle of pussy juice?

The woman writhed and bucked, stuffing more and more fingers inside herself until her entire fist was seated in her pussy. Ryan’s jaw almost hit the floor. How was that even possible? Granted, her hands would be smaller than a man’s, but the angle and the stretching…even without physical stimulation, his cock leaped. This woman was
hot
.Seriously. Fucking. Hot.

Just then there was a click and Ryan’s window lit up again, removing his view of what was beyond. Quickly he snatched his hands from beneath his thighs and reached trembling fingers to the pile of coins on the sill, dropping another into the slot.