No. 10 Place Bic?tre

Dedicated to Judith...

Paris changed me. I’d arrived only a few weeks before, a fresh-faced British college girl on an exchange programme to find myself plunged fathoms-deep in a whirling world of light, laughter, copious drinking, and cynical, hedonistic love-making. They call Paris the City of Lovers. Maybe it is.

I shared a small 3rd floor apartment on the Place Bicêtre with two other girls, Helen and Dominique. Helen was a tall willowy blond Australian from Queensland, an habitué of late night parties all over Paris. Dominique, dark, slim and sharply intelligent, was very French, trés chic, and full of spicy gossip. Several times Helen would bring guys back with her and they’d fuck with noisy intensity in her room whilst Dominique and I would try to work on our studies before giving up and slipping away to a bar somewhere in nearby Montmartre.

Most of our neighbours were also students, part of a happy hedonistic commune who attended the lycées and Sorbonne when they weren’t too stoned, hung-over or just tired from parties and marathon drinking sessions. All of us were ruled by a genial concierge, Madame Charnot, a lovely lady who tolerated the odd misdemeanour with a knowing smile. “You’re only young once,” she’d say. “Make the most of it!”

One night Helen returned with a guy earlier than usual. Unusually he was a guy she’d slept with only the night before, and this time I learned his name. For Helen to bring a guy home twice, it had to be love...

Alain was a handsome, saturnine French actor then making a name for himself on the stage and in some low-budget movies. I fetched some wine and poured for them as he settled on the battered chaise-longue Dominique had bought somewhere. From the first he showed an obvious interest in me. I felt shy, having this handsome guy looking me over; and I could sense the electricity crackling between Helen and Alain as we sat in the small lounge drinking wine. Helen kept glancing from one to the other of us, then she laughed. ‘Have I got a rival here?’ she asked, her nasal tones coming strong through her adequate French.

‘Ah! Belle Helen, you have my heart always!’ he said, kissing her hand and looking up at her with soulful brown eyes. ‘And Christie, too, is beautiful. Were I, like Prince Paris of Troy, to have the pleasure of choosing who is the most beautiful, I would fail to give an answer!’

‘At least Paris only had three goddesses to choose from,’ Helen murmured, looking at me. ‘Perhaps we should wait for Dominique?’

‘She’s seeing her family tonight.’ Wait for what? ‘Didn’t you hear her say before she left?’

‘I wasn’t paying attention,’ Helen shrugged. ‘So...’ she said, her hand wandering along Alain’s thigh until it reached his crotch, which she groped quite shamelessly. ‘Christie, you’ve been here long enough. You’ve never brought a guy home, you must be desperate for a fuck. Want to share Alain with me tonight?’ She grinned. ‘That way he gets to make a fair comparison between us!’

I felt my face burn a bright red. Alain watched me with an easy smile on his lips, wine glass resting casually on his knee as Helen kneaded his crotch. So laid back and in control of himself. My heart began to pound fit to burst out of my chest. To my everlasting surprise the words “I wouldn’t mind” came from my lips. Alain was cute; although he didn't exactly make me percolate in my panties, I found myself growing wet at the thought of a 3-way.

It was Paris! I was away from home for the first time, all of 19 years old, wanting to plunge into the heady adult lifestyle I’d always dreamed of; and yes, desperate for a fuck...

We went to Helen’s room, which overlooked the Place, her right as the first-comer to the apartment. The windows were open, the shutters thrown back to allow the cooler evening air into the room. She all but dragged Alain inside, a nervous Christie Ellison bringing up the rear. The bed was nearly invisible beneath a pile of dresses, T-shirts, denims, carrier bags and college papers. She solved the matter of clearing it by bundling it all up in her duvet and throwing it to one side.

Alain took her in his arms, stroking the long hair from her face and she pressed against him. They kissed hungrily, their jaws working as I looked on, feeling so hot, so self-conscious, my wine glass still clutched in my hand.

Helen took the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head with a quick clean movement. Alain kicked off his shoes, then unclipped Helen’s black lacy bra for her. She held the cups to her breasts as she turned to me, gave me a wicked smile, then let it fall.

I’d caught glimpses of her before, as she moved to and from the tiny bathroom. Now I could see she had small, jutting breasts with large red nipples, the left one of which was pierced with a silver dumb-bell shaped stud. Alain had pulled his own T-shirt off, exposing a chest covered with a mass of dark curly hair. Moisture sprang into being between my legs and I swallowed nervously.

‘I think Christie’s shy,’ Helen said to Alain as she unzipped her denims.

‘Perhaps you have not had the three-way before?’ he asked, coming over to me. I shook my head and fought the urge to draw back when he raised his hand to stroke my hair. ‘There is no need to be nervous.’ His dark eyes glittered, then he kissed my cheek, small, light butterfly kisses as he caressed my hair.

The bed creaked as Helen sat heavily on the edge to peel her tight denims down her legs. ‘Damn these things!’ she groaned. ‘Al, help me get ‘em off, will ya?’

Alain winked at me, then turned to help her. Taking the waistband of the denims in each hand, he pulled on them smoothly, peeling them from Helen’s endlessly long tanned legs. She laughed and kicked him lightly against his chest as he tossed the garment aside, then she looked at me. ‘Christ, Christie, are you gonna do something or not? Get undressed, girl!’

I put my glass down on a stack of books and pulled my dress over my head. It was a warm night, my skin was damp and the fabric stuck to me like a live thing. When I eventually emerged, swearing under my breath, Alain was standing watching, twirling Helen’s panties idly like a propeller with his finger, a bemused little smile on his lips. He was naked, his cock jutting up from a mass of black curly hair. It was the first circumcised cock I’d ever seen and my gaze became riveted to it.

‘You like him?’ Alain murmured, flexing his groin muscles to make the thing bob. I said something in reply, God knows what, and he laughed. ‘Touch him.’

I walked over, trembling, my heart pounding, my legs feeling weak. Alain took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft, nodding encouragement as I began to stroke it. It was hot, it was heavy, and around 7 inches long, with an upward curve and an oversized purple head. Not quite the biggest cock I’d had in my brief time but I liked the look of it.

‘Hey, let’s get your scanties off you. C’mon,’ Helen said, rolling off the bed. ‘Come to Mama.’

Obediently I stood, my hands by my sides and waited for her. Alain moved close to me, my breasts squeezing up between us as he kissed me, his cock brushing, then pressing into my belly. His tongue slid between my lips, almost forcing them open as Helen moved behind me. I felt her fingers work the clasp of my bra. The strap fell open, leaving my back feeling oddly exposed. Alain looked deep into my eyes, holding my attention as Helen worked the straps off my shoulders, then reached around to free my breasts from the cups. I smiled nervously at him as I felt her tug my bra from between us.

‘Keep still,’ she whispered in my ear. Soft lips began to work a passage down from the nape of my neck, between my shoulders, down, kissing my spine, until I felt her reach the top of my butt. Alain’s fingers were gently stroking the outside curve of my breasts where they pressed against him, his eyes twinkling, teasing me. My nipples were hardening moment by moment.

Helen tugged my panties down around my ankles and pushed my butt cheeks apart, holding them as her lips worked even further down. Surely she wasn’t going to...? Oh! Oh, yes, yesss! Her wet tongue found my anus and began to lick and probe it, causing shivers to run through my body.

Alain stepped back, his gaze dropping to take in my 36c breasts, the tight black knot of my pubis, and he nodded with pleasure. I could only look at him, swaying as Helen worked her magic, her hands stroking up and down my thighs. Then one of her hands slid around my belly, stroking it, working closer and closer, over the tight knot of my pubes to my cunny and...

‘Oooooh!’ I gasped as her fingers slid inside me, rubbing over my clit. My knees went weak and I staggered.

‘You’d better lie down,’ she said, her voice husky, and stood to take my hand and guide me to the bed.

I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not. Only minutes before I’d been enjoying a glass of wine with these people. Now they were taking me places I’d never imagined...

Helen laid me on the bed, her hands spreading my legs far apart. With a sensual smile she sniffed, then licked her fingers. ‘Gorgeous taste, darlin’!’ she purred. ‘I’m lookin’ forward to this...’ She crouched at the foot of the bed and moved sinuously up towards me, her hands stroking my legs from ankles to thighs. I could feel her small breasts brushing my legs, the metal stud a tiny cold mote against my hot skin. ‘Spread yourself, darlin’,’ she murmured. ‘Spread that sweet little puss for me.’

I slid my hand down to my cunny and ran my fingers over my hot, moist lips, feeling the small suck and squish I’d only previously felt alone. Helen’s tongue touched my outer lips and I shuddered with delight, my juice flowing faster, then faster yet as she worked her tongue around, and up, and down, always turning inwards, until she licked deep into me, right up my crack from butt to pubes.

‘Oooohhhh!’ I gasped, my eyes staring blindly at the ceiling overhead.

Helen clasped and squeezed my breasts as she munched away, her breath snorting against my cunny, licking, probing, digging, her mouth pushing against me rhythmically.

I raised my head with an effort and looked down between my breasts. Helen’s tawny-blond head bobbed between my thighs, her face a picture of rapture. Beyond that bobbing head, she had her butt in the air. Alain had clasped her hips and entered her, doggy-style, his face a mask of concentration as he pumped away inside her.

I reached down and pulled Helen’s head into me, thrusting my hips to rub my cunny hard against her face. It gleamed with my juices, her lips parting to lick them off before turning back to my cunny. She bit my clit. Waves of sensation rolled up and through me, rising, building, my skin tingling and ears ringing until I came with a cry of exquisite pleasure.

Alain gritted his teeth and thrust harder and harder. Helen shuddered and gripped the bed, her eyes squeezed tight. I recovered enough to reach down and grasp her under her arms. Opening bleary eyes she looked up and saw what I was trying to do. Timing the movement with Alain’s thrusts, she crawled up the bed and onto me, wincing as if his cock hurt as it moved inside her. Then she was kissing me, letting me taste myself on her tongue as it slid over and around mine in a moist dance. She began to breathe quicker, and quicker, until she was panting, her small breasts crushed against mine as we held each other tight. I wrapped my thighs around her hips and held on as Alain fucked her to a climax.

Helen shuddered and bit my shoulder, her scream muffled and mingling with Alain’s animal grunts and gasps as he spent inside her.

We rolled apart, hot, sweaty, and content. Alain sagged onto the bed between us and put his arms around our shoulders. ‘Oh, Mam’selles! You are wonderful!’

‘It was my first 3-way,’ I confessed. ‘And my first time with another woman.’

‘I would not have guessed,’ he said, winking at Helen, who lay cradled in the crook of his left arm.

She grinned and toyed with his softening cock. ‘Christie’s a shrinkin’ violet! Hey, darlin’, do want me to fuck you until Al here gets his breath back?’

‘What have you got in mind?’ I asked, dubiously.

‘Wait one, I’ll get it.’

So saying she rolled off the bed and began to rummage through the drawers of her bedside cabinet. Books, panties, brassieres, empty food wrappers, sanitary towels and condoms were turned out until she cried “Ah hah!”

Helen disentangled something near the bottom of the drawer and held it up - a strap-on dildo. The red plastic cock was ten inches long and at least two wide! How on earth she could nearly mislay something that size I don’t know. It looked weird. There were small copper-coloured squares along the length, and some sort of loop of copper near the base of the thing.

‘Oh, God, Helen, I don’t know about this..!’ I said, nervously crossing my legs.

‘Hey, darlin’, no worries, she’ll be all right! Look...’ She fumbled open the straps to an accompanying ripping of velcro, then secured them around her thighs and waist. ‘Ta-daa!’ she said, posing like some magician’s assistant, the huge prong thrusting out like a sailing ship’s bowsprit. ‘I bought it in one of the shops last month, they’re the latest thing. See this?’ “This” was her clitoris. She’d drawn back the hood and the small loop was fixed around it. ‘It’s the latest thing in feedback dongs. When I fuck you, the contacts along the length will build up a static charge which goes through the loop. Fuck long enough, and it gives a real orgasmic buzz!’

‘Oh, fuck, no, Helen!’ I gasped. ‘It’s too big!’

‘Ah, you wimp, Chris! Hold her, Al.’

Alain grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back as I tried to get off the bed. Wrapping his ankles around mine he sat back, holding me against him, then forcibly spread my legs by spreading his own.

‘Oh no, no way, please!’ I gasped. ‘I’ll bloody well split!’

‘Shush!’ he murmured in my ear. ‘I think you will enjoy this, no?’

‘No!’ I gasped, struggling.

Helen got onto the bed and crouched over me on all fours, the cock swinging like a pendulum beneath her. ‘Hold still, darlin’, then it won’t hurt.’ She cocked her head and gave me a quizzical grin. ‘Unless you want it to hurt..?’

‘Oh, fuck, go on then.’

If life catches your tits in the wringer, all you can do is scream with good grace. I relaxed as best I could, lying back against Alain and watching Helen get ready.

Helen lube’d the thing, threw the tube aside, then lay between my legs. ‘Shouldn’t need it, you’re wet enough already. Here goes...’

Fumbling between us, she brought the tip of the thing up against my cunny. It felt cool against my hot lips. Her hands clasped and kneaded my breasts but her eyes were half-closed as she concentrated.

I felt my lips part, as the thing began to slide inside me, helped on its way by a generous coat of lube and my own juices. I began to stiffen as it moved deeper, my breath snorting through my nose in short bursts when I felt my muscles being forced apart. ‘Ooooh shitt!’ I gasped and I clutched hold of her out of instinct.

Helen’s face hovered above me, her eyes open now, enjoying my discomfort (the cow!). On, and on it came, widening my cunny beyond anything I’d experienced before. Only some years later, when I had my daughter, would anything larger than that dildo invade my space in that way. I felt my back arching to accommodate it, and, although I’d tried to avoid it, I couldn’t help but look down between our breasts to watch as the long, thick, red, shiny plastic slid inside me like some snake vanishing into a hole. My cervix yielded and stretched until I moaned in pain.

‘Good one, darlin’!’ Helen exclaimed. ‘You’ve taken it all!’

My reply was unprintable.

Dominique chose that moment to arrive home, calling out to us from the hall. Helen called back as she settled herself on top of me, the dildo moving inside me and making me shudder. Dominique peered around the door and her smile froze when she saw the scene. ‘Oh! Pardon...’ she said, disappearing smartly. A few moments later we heard the front door open and close.

Helen ignored the distraction and began to thrust into me - hard. I shook under the onslaught, my breasts rolling and brushing against hers with every thrust of her body. My legs spread wider, my cunny got juicier, and I can’t pretend that thing inside me ever felt comfortable. Even so...

Even so, I found myself becoming aroused again, the plateau looming into sight once more as my blood began to pound under this near-violation. Helen was sweating in the warmth of the night, her body sticky against mine, her face a wet mask of concentration as she held onto me and thrust, thrust, thrussstttt.

I came with a shuddering scream, my nails raking Helen’s back, making her gasp and tremble with the unexpected pain. Even in the midst of my orgasm I felt a small nub of satisfaction then.

Alain released his hold when Helen climbed off me, and I got off the bed, feeling twinges and sharp pains in my abused cunny muscles. ‘Oh, shit! That’s enough, guys,’ I said, ‘I need to pee now, okay’

Helen wasn’t listening; she was looking down at the dildo. ‘Aw, fuck, would you believe it? I forgot to switch the bloody thing on! No wonder I never felt anything!’

Typical of Helen, to do something like that. I shook my head and wandered over to the window, where a box of tissues lay on the sill. I pulled out a handful and began to wipe myself. The evening had turned a little cooler, thank God, and the breeze coming through the open shutters soothed my overheated skin. I looked out at the Place Bicêtre before going to the bathroom.

Everything was quiet for a change, most of our student neighbours having gone out for the night or asleep, but a movement in a window of number 11 caught my eye. Number 10 occupied the south-west corner of the Place. Number 11 was the next house clockwise around the square and Helen’s room was right in the junction of the two. My eyes were only then beginning to adjust after the brightness of the room. One floor up in number 11 I saw a pale face looking down at me from an open unlit window.

Whoever it was, they had a perfect view of everything that went on in the room. How long had he or she been watching? The face looked down at me gravely and I became aware of my own nakedness. Call it the madness of the night, or a sudden “don’t care” attitude that came upon me, but I didn’t say a word. Nor did I close the shutters against the voyeuristic gaze.

Alain called from behind me. ‘Christie? Hurry up and go to the toilet. I am growing hard again, and I’d like to fuck you!’

‘I’m going, Alain,’ I said over my shoulder. ‘Get a condom ready, will you?’

His reply was that of all Frenchmen when that little favour is requested. I didn’t care. The face in the window withdrew into the darkness, leaving me with a driving urge to find out who it was...

Être continué en “Stranger in Paris”