Writer's note - this is the fifth in what is intended to be a series of short stories about April - a petite, attractive, mature, married, redhead. Each story will stand in isolation though the length and depth are likely to develop with each new story so it might be best to start at the first story and work your way though.
This story takes April to Paris on her daughter's hen party.
All situations are imagined and any resemblance to real places or people is purely coincidental.
Finally, these stories are for publication on the Literotica Site only and just because I have shared them on Literotica does not mean I have given permission for them to be reproduced anywhere else.
*****
Hen party
April was in Paris for her daughter's (Lucy) hen party. There was a large group of them, about 25 including April. Moat of the other girls were Lucy's friends, though Karl's (the groom's) mom, Liz and aunt, Jane were also there.
They had started travelling at lunch time on the Friday, arriving at their hotel around tea time. They dispersed to their rooms and agreed that after unpacking they would change and meet in the bar in about an hour.
April hadn't fancied sharing with anyone so had paid a little extra for a room of her own and on arriving at her room she was glad she had because it had everything you would need, large bed, large robe, dresser, and unusually an en-suite that had a bath.
April put her clothes away, taking care to hang her best outfit and lingerie in the robe.
Tonight was going to be a casual night, the main activity planned for the Saturday, so taking a quick dip in the bath April straightened her hair (she would wash it the following day for the main evening), put on her make up and dressed - nice jeans, tight fitting top, over which she wore a green jacket, all finished off with matching green high heeled shoes and handbag. She went down to the bar.
The evening was a good laugh, lots of girly chat mostly about things that had happened in the past, recalling funny, sometimes racy, stories about their liaisons with young men, the good, the bad ... and the ugly!
As the night wore on and the drink flowed the conversation turned to the events planned for the following day.
It turned out that Lucy's friends had arranged a swim and sauna in the late morning, a light lunch, followed by a massage, manicure, make over and general pamper session late in the afternoon, just in time for them to get changed and meet in the small private function room at about 8pm, where some entertainment had been arranged.
April told one of the girls that she would give the swimming and sauna a miss, preferring instead to wash her hair in the morning, see a few sights of Paris and meet them for the make over later.
Liz asked if she and Jane could join her and of course April said they could.
It was now after 11pm so April finished her wine, explained she wanted to stay reasonably fresh for tomorrow and retired to her room. Liz and Jane decided to stay on.
April rose at about 9.30am, had light continental breakfast in her room and, once she had washed her hair, dressed for her day in Paris.
April loved Paris, the cosmopolitan feel of the city, the sophistication of Parisians, especially the women.
She dressed so that she too felt sophisticated, completely at home; tight red fitting pencil skirt over black lace briefs, matching suspender and stockings; nice, white, delicate blouse over lace black underwired bra, holding her ample breasts, clearly defined through her blouse; red heeled shoes and co-ordinated hand bag.
It was autumn so in addition she put in her favourite black "swing" coat, one that tapered in fitting tightly at the waist, but flaring out as it progressed to the hem, finishing just below the knee, the overall look pretty and sophisticated, complimenting April's petite but very female frame. Around her neck she added a red silk scarf to complete the look.
April looked in the mirror, she felt good, not bad for a woman in her late forties.
April glanced at the clock as she left her room, it was just after 11am. She went down the corridor and knocked on Liz's room. After a while the door opened and a head peeped round, the eyes dark, the make up smudged, the face of somebody who had stayed a little too late the previous evening.
It was clear April would be going alone, and although she liked Liz and Jane, she wasn't too disappointed.
April took the Metro to the centre, alighting near the Louvre. She entered the gallery and on surveying a summary of the temporary exhibits chose the work of modern, romanticist artist on the second floor.
Once at the exhibition area April was pleased to hear gentle Parisian café jazz playing in the background. She slowly walked around the room, surveying the art on display.
It was one of April's favourite styles, tall slim figures, male and female, in the elegant, sophisticated dress of the wealthy during the early 20th century. The theme was very much love, calmness, summer strolls along the banks of the Sienne, walks down the Champs Elyssee.
She noted that she was the only person in the room as she slowly strolled around, dreaming about the lifestyle depicted in the artist's work.
As April stood admiring one particular painting she felt a presence at her side, she turned and was slightly startled to see a man stood next to her.
He was tall, very tanned skin, maybe southern European in appearance, most definitely handsome, well defined, even chiselled features. He didn't move or speak, simply looked straight ahead at the painting.
April moved her glance from his face, down his clothes. He was a little younger than her, in his mid thirties perhaps, casually but very elegantly dressed, expensive, patent leather shoes, comfortable grey slacks, Ralph Loren polo shirt under an open Yves Saint Lauren overcoat, the belt of which was doubled up and fastened around the back. Under his arm he carried a copy of La Mondial. In his hands he held two cups of take away coffee.
Perhaps sensing April's gaze her turned to her, she looked straight into his piercing blue eyes, so clear, so beautiful, adding a purity to his handsome features.
"Bonjour madam,"
he spoke, as he held out one of the coffees, offering it to April,
"un café latte, avec un sucre, ouis?"
April just stood, motionless, unsure what to say.
He repeated his remark, "un café latte, avec un sucre, ouis?"
