A Canadian Couple Discovers Paris...and More!

[SudburySwingers]

Our trip to Paris had been a long time in planning. For more of our adult lives we had vacationed either in Canada during the summer months, or in one of the Caribbean islands during the winter. Our vacations were always highly sensual affairs. Although we enjoyed quite an active and varied sex life at home, we always took advantage of our holiday time to really let our hair down and explore new avenues. For years we had talked about taking a trip to Europe. My wife and I love art and fine wine, so what better destination than Paris. And how could we find a more romantic city. We prepared for the journey by taking a brief course of lessons in French but we knew we were nowhere near comfortable with the language. At best, we hoped the French people would appreciate our effort and guide us along as we sought help on our journey. Little did we know that we would soon be meeting our own personal guide, and the journey she would take us on was one we had only fantasized about in moments of passion.

We had often heard about jet lag but never quite understood the real effects of trans-Atlantic flight until we touched down in France and found our biological clocks rather out of whack. As soon as we arrived at our hotel, my wife, Marjorie, announced that she needed a serious nap. Despite my slight disorientation, I was anxious to begin my discovery of this romantic city. I left my lovely blonde wife to sleep and recover, while I headed out to stroll along the street and see what kinds of interesting shops and boutiques I might discover.

Before long, I came upon a most unusual window display. There were numerous art prints, each of which was of a very erotic nature, not at all the kinds of pictures that would be normally displayed in a Canadian store window. I took some time to admire the skilled pencil and brush strokes of the various works and then built up the courage to enter the store and see exactly what kind of place this was. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in a tiny shop filled with the soft fragrance of incense. There were many more erotic paintings on display, as well as a variety of sex toys, magazines and videos. My wife and I were very fond of electric vibrators and I knew that my first gift to her in Paris had to be a new and different device to add to our little collection. I stepped up to the counter and began to examine the items on view within the cabinet. And then I heard a soft female voice. She spoke in French and I assumed that she had asked if she could help me. I sputtered out some blithering attempt at telling her I didn't speak French very much. She smiled and laughed, and then said. "That's okay. Is there something in particular I could help you with?" As I looked at her, I couldn't help but come up with a number of ideas, but I thought better of attempting a witty, suggestive reply. Instead, I explained that my wife and I had just arrived from Canada, and that we had promised ourselves we were going to let ourselves explore anything and everything.

 

[SWFreak]

I'd love to join the thread as Martinique, the woman working at the shop.

 

[CourtesanBeryl]

Looking for a tour guide?

OOC: I'm the real thing: I 'm Parisian and would love to give you and your wife all the inns and outs on my beautiful city.

I would love to be Suzette!

 

[SudburySwingers]

Hello CourtesanBeryl. Thank you for your reply. Indeed it would be most interesting to have a resident of Paris show us the sites. Please respond with a segment.

SWFreak. Thank you for your response as well. Perhaps as the story unfolds we might be able to call upon you to join our adventure.

 

[CourtesanBeryl]

Suzette

"I'll help you out, but only for one month!"

That's what I answered Jean-Pierre, my best body at the Ecole des Beaux Arts. I knew he earned some money over the weekend at a sex shop near Pigalle. So when he asked me if I could replace him while he'd be gone, I was not too enthusiastic.
But Jean-Pierre is a very good friend and I knew there was more to his job than just earning some money. He had convinced the owner to allow him to display his erotic sketches and watercolours in the shop's window in the hope that it would help him get noticed by some rich collector. I like his work a lot and I am proud that he gave me a watercolour on my last birthday. It shows two women together in a bed, with a man sitting nearby and watching them while having a drink. Of course, it's a take on an original 19th century painting... but Jean-Pierre has done a wonderful job with the colors and the composition... I hung it in my bedroom and when I feel lonely, I look at it and touch myself.
Little did I know that Jean-Pierre's work and demand would change my life...

So here I am, in the sex shop, all by myself and waiting behind the counter for my replacement to arrive. It's my last day at the job and I'm really happy over it. Needless to say, none of Jean-Pierre's works has been sold. It is no wonder to me that all the customers I have seen entering the shop don't look like rich art collectors. Poor Jean-Pierre!
I am looking once more at my watch: it's the end of the afternoon and my replacement should be here soon. I'm glad I don't have to work here in the evenings, that's when the business really kicks in.

The door opens: a tall and handsome man enters. He gazes around the shop and seems a bit lost. I venture: "Je peux vous aider, Monsieur?" He turns around and looks at me. The man has beautiful eyes, a steak of grey hair over his temples... I immediately check his hands: he's married. Darn! He babbles some French words he must have studied in a traveler’s handbook. It's so cute! Of course, none of those books provide a "Sex Shop" vocabulary.
"That's okay. Is there something in particular I could help you with?"
His face lightens up on a beautiful smile: I feel myself melt while he explains what he came for. I show him the different types of dildoes and vibrators: he looks surprised as he discovers that most of them have been made in the US. I explain to him that the women here are very conservative when it comes to sex, and to the way they relate to men.
"Your English is very good, Mademoiselle!"
"Well I've used to live in the States. My father is an architect and he doesn't know I'm working here to help out a friend!"
He doesn't look surprised: "So what do you normally do?"
"I'm a student at..."
The door opens: Bruno, the one who does the night shift has just arrived.
"Aaaah, Bruno!"
"Bonsoir Suzette... Sorry I'm late."
We discuss the sales that I made during the day and which items are missing. The client looks at us and I can tell from his smile that he's highly amused.
"Well Bruno, it won't be me next weekend, Jean-Pierre will be back."
"Goodbye Suzette, nice knowing you!"
I turn around and smile at the client: "Goodbye, Monsieur. Have a great time in Paris!"
"Thank you! Actually I've been walking so much this afternoon, I wouldn't know my way back to the subway..."
"Ah! Well, that's where I'm going now. Do you want me to show you the way?"
Another dashing smile of his and I swear I'll say "yes" to whatever he suggests...
"Yes, thank you. I won't buy anything now. I'll think about it..."
Bruno looks at us leave the shop and behind the client gestures to say: "You made a hit!". I shrugg and yet I wonder: has he noticed something about the client that I haven't seen?

Once outside the air conditioned shop, the heat of the afternoon is so intense that I'm quickly uncomfortable. We are still chatting, the stranger and I, on what he and his wife plan to visit while they're in France. I give him a few tips since I'm used to visit the many museums for my Art History class. We're almost at the subway entrance and we are standing on a corner of the street, chatting despite the crowd and the intense car noises.
The stranger looks at me and with a thoughtful expression asks: "Do you have anything waiting for you?"
I shake my head and feel myself blush, knowing what is coming next... He asks very nicely:
"May I buy you a drink? We're standing in the middle of the street and we'd be more comfortable in this cafe behind you..."
"Yes, why not? How about your wife?"
"I left her a note, she's probably still sleeping..."

We sit at a small round table: a waiter comes and I order a beer for my companion and I an expresso for me.
"Haven't you ordered a coffee? Aren't you thirsty?"
"Women don't drink beer in France.. and a coffee is a cheap drink."
"Don't worry about it! You can order a soda if you'd like to..."
"A soda? Yuk... That's for kids!" I turn around to the waiter: "Et un quart de Badoit."
"What did you just say? It sounded lovely!"
I giggle: "I asked for mineral water..."

We continue to chat and it feel like we're old friends now. I'll probably never know whether the beer helped him, my companion leans towards me and asks me if I would agree to become a tour guide for his wife and himself. After all, why not? I'd be highly suspicious if he had been single, but it looks like a job I could have fun doing... And I could earn some money too!
"Before I say yes, what's the pay?"
"Free meals and the equivalent of 150 US dollars per day"
I almost choke with surprise:
"No way?!"
"But you'll have to be taking care of us from breakfast time until diner time"
"I can do it! And when should we start?"
"Right away if you don't mind... I'm completely lost here... and if you'd help me back to the hotel, I'd introduce you to my wife..."
I grin. Thank you Jean-Pierre! If it hadn't been for you, I would have missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

 

[SudburySwingers]

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than I expected. Of course, it was a direct route, unlike my earlier wanderings around the streets and shops. And having the pleasure of Suzette's conversation along the way made the time pass more quickly.

We stopped in the hotel lobby so I could telephone up to the room and advise my wife Marjorie that I had found us a new friend. At first she was slightly apprehensive about rushing downstairs to meet this total stranger, but within a few minutes she warmed to the idea. After all, we had talked often about just such a scenario and we told each other that if the opportunity presented itself we would have to reach out and grab it. We would have to be bold and assertive. Our vacation time was too valuable to waste.

Ten minutes later the three of us were enjoying a glass of Domaine Bouchard Pere Burgundy in the hotel dining room. Marjorie and Suzette warmed to each other almost instantly. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine. We talked of each other's countries, of the sites that had to be seen in each, of the style of dining, of fashion, of the night life. All the while we were silently aware of an underlying sense of sexual tension. With each glance we added to the intimacy that we all knew was waiting for us just around the next avenue. But we took our time, enjoying each tantalyzing step along the way.

Drinks led to dinner. Dinner led to more wine. And finally the night descended around the hotel. Marjorie and I were both still tired from the trans-Atlantic flight and, given other circumstances, would have retired to our room, but these were not ordinary circumstances. Suzette asked if we would like to see a little of her city of lights. She didn' t have to twist our arms. She motioned to the waiter and, following a brief conversation, advised us that she was having the concierge summon an èquipage for us. We both stared at her with obvious puzzlement over this unfamiliar word. "A carriage.", she said, with a wide smile. "Welcome to Paris!"

 

[CourtesanBeryl]

Unexpected Sight

I was overjoyed as they invited me to have dinner with them. I have never entered such a luxurious place: an army of waiters waiting to service your every desire, walls and furniture in cream and golden tones… As for the dinner, each plate was a work of art as I have only seen on TV. The wine was… well, after a few more sips and a cognac, I didn't feel ashamed for my poor clothes anymore. I couldn't take my eyes off of Marjorie; the way she smiles at her husband and at me is so warm. They really seem to share a very special bond and I wish I would, one day, enjoy such a relationship.

I was in a happy mood as I ordered "un équipage" to the waiter. Of course, there haven't been horsedrawn carriages in Paris for at least 50 years. But the hotel and these people are so refined that pronouncing the word "taxi" would have sounded vulgar.
As we stepped outside the private front yard of the hotel, I felt somewhat dizzy from all the alcohol and was happy for a little fresh air. The taxi arrived: a dark blue "Renault Scenic" that Americans would call a family van. I ordered the driver to take us for a "Paris by night" tour.
Ladies first! Marjorie entered the taxi first, I sat in the middle and Peter sat on my right. We started by the Champs-Elysées, driving up to the Arch of Triumph. On each side of the wide avenue, the movie theaters and department stores were brightly lit. My friends were surprised to see that so many people were still walking around at this hour of the night.
"It's not very late, you know. The French diner time runs from eight to ten o' clock at night, and it's a real meal as you have noticed. And you can take the subway until one in the morning."
The taxi enters the Place de l'Etoile where the Arch of Triumph stands; it's a driving feast for Parisians, a true nightmare for foreigners. Peter is stunned to watch cars criss-crossing in front of us and on our sides… I giggle: "Feels like being in the middle of a demented school fish, doesn't it?"
The taxi now goes down the avenue Foch, with cars parked to the sides. I comment cheerfully: "This is call girls territory! And they work right next to these very expensive buildings, as you can see."
Peter nods; the beautiful hookers and their clients fascinate him. I turn to Marjorie: the poor woman has fallen asleep… I whisper to him: "Peter! Your wife is asleep!"
He smiles: "Alcohol does that to her…."
"Do you want to go back to the hotel, then?"
"Not yet... Could we go see the Eiffel tower?"
"Sure… We're not far away from the Trocadero. There's a wide esplanade there and the view is magnificent."
I lean forward to tell the driver to turn left and take us to the Trocadero. Mischievous as I am, I can't resist to tilt my ass upward as I do so… and to show Peter that I don't wear any panties under my short skirt…
I sit back and Peter grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me against his chest. His beautiful eyes are locked into mine: "Suzette… That was a nice sight… And I enjoyed watching it… Is there more you'd like to show me?"
I giggle…
"Oh Monsieur! Your wife…."
"My wife is not jaleous… Actually, I'm sure she finds you attractive… Don't you Marjorie?"
"Yes indeed… Suzette, might if I get a second look?"
I'm stunned; did she just wake up or was she faking it? Peter hands are holding me very tight and I can't free myself from his grip. Marjorie doesn't wait for my answer: I feel her hands pulling my skirt up. I'm blushing violently.
Peter smiles at me and pulls me even closer: I'm almost bending forward. Behind me, I feel Marjorie move closer. Her hands are forcing my thighs apart and her fingers touch my labia….
Peter says with a very gentle tone: "We like you very much, Suzette… Would you like to spend all your time with us while we're in Paris?"
"I…. I'd like to… Yes… If you don't mind…."
Marjorie giggles: "After all, it's easier to learn a foreign language when you share your pillows…." She pulls my skirt down. "Look! We're there! The Eiffel tower!"
Peter gives me a soft kiss on the lips: "Suzette my darling, tell us all there is to know. I promise you we'll be all ears…"

 

[reecie]

story is great you two

The story is great, i'm all smiles keep up the great job.

I can't wait to see what will happens next.

 

[SudburySwingers]

The Taxi

revised segment coming this week

 

[reecie]

I'd like to be in the story

I'd like to be a part of this great story, just make me the bellhop that opens the door when you arrive..