Glancing out of the window, Greg saw nothing but water. It was daunting not seeing land. He'd never flown over a large body of water; the sea, an ocean. Of course, airplanes did it every day--except not with him on board. But there should be no reason to worry. Yet, not only had he never flown over the deep, but he'd also never flown this long or this far: Houston to Paris, with only one stop.
Greg was going to visit his dad who now lived in France. He hadn't seen his father in five years, since the man was offered a position to head his law firm's Paris office. Greg's mother had refused to move overseas, and that ultimately led to their divorce. He only spoke on the phone periodically with the man. It also resulted in his mother refusing to allow Greg to travel to Europe periodically to visit his dad.
Now, Greg was eighteen and had graduated high school and she could no longer prevent him. But she had finally agreed. So, here he was flying
all alone
thousands of miles to an unknown country to not only visit his parent, but also his father's new French wife, Giselle, and her daughter, Monique, who was also Greg's age. He'd seen photos of Monique. She seemed cute, but... anyway...
It was a huge airport, but he managed to find his way to customs, collect his luggage and get to where his dad said he would pick him up. Except his dad wasn't there. Of course, Greg tried to call his father, but there was no answer. He started to panic, but quickly realized that his dad was probably just running late and would be along soon.
And then, he saw a stunning brunette in a tight, black, sleeveless, short dress that emphasized a set of big breasts that were not overly large or disproportionate with her frame, and also revealed some very shapely legs. If that hadn't been enough to draw his attention, the fact that she held a sign with his name on it certainly did.
Greg approached her hesitantly. He didn't recognize her, so he pointed to the sign and then gestured to himself.
"Est-ce toi?" she said.
"That's me," Greg said, slowly, as though she would understand English better, and with big gestures.
"C'est toi?" she said.
Greg didn't know how else to get his message across. He hadn't really considered that there would be a language issue. He foolishly assumed everyone would speak English. "I am he." Then he thought to take out his phone and use Google Translate. As he spoke into his phone, she started giggling.
"No, no. Stop," she said between giggles. "I speak English. I was just having a little fun with you. I apologize." To his frown, she held out her hand. "I am Monique Delvaux, and I guess, I am your stepsister."
He wanted to be angry with her, but she was just so damned attractive, and her accent was sweet and seductive, and he was smitten. "Good thing you're so hot, or I'd really be pissed."
"Hot? Qu'est-ce que cela signifie?" She shook her head. "Uh, what does that mean?"
With a grimace, Greg said, "I said that out loud, didn't I? Uh, it, uh, it means you're very attractive."
"Hot. I like that. And thank you for the compliment. Come. Your father was unexpectedly detained and asked me to get you."
He followed her like a little puppy, paying little attention to where she was taking him. That's because he walked behind her, and his eyes were focused on her shapely ass. She really had it all--
and
she was his stepsister. The summer visit just got one hundred percent better. That is, as long as she wasn't annoyed to have her unknown stepbrother invade her world. He quickly adjusted his pants to accommodate his sudden erection.
And if she wasn't alluring enough, when she slipped into the driver's seat of the Renault, her dress rode up nearly to her crotch, and she made no attempt to fix it.
"Did you get a good look?" Monique asked.
"Excuse me?"
"My derrière." To his frown, she patted her rear and added, "My ass. Did you get a good look? I know you were--how do you say?--checking me out."
"Uh, uh, I--"
"It's okay. I'm not offended."
"Uh, well, okay. I'm sorry, I, uh, couldn't help--"
Monique chuckled. "You are nervous?"
"You, uh, don't look like you did in the last photo I saw of you."
"Which photo was that?"
Greg pulled out his phone and showed her.
"Oh, that was a couple of years ago. I've grown up and changed my hairstyle."
"All for the better."
Now, she smiled warmly, and a similar feeling pervaded him.
Greg couldn't help stealing glances at her legs. Of course, she was aware of this, but said nothing.
"Have you decided how long you will stay?" Monique asked.
"I guess that will depend on my dad, your mom and you. How long you will want me to stay."
She chuckled again. "You can stay as long as you like."
"Oh, okay. Well, I wasn't sure how you would feel about me, you know, intruding in your home."
Now, she laughed. "You are not intruding. I have been looking forward to meeting you."
"Thanks. I've been looking forward to meeting you, too.
And
your mother. I was afraid you might become annoyed having me around."
"Not unless you become annoying. Are you going to be annoying?"
"I'll try not to."
"Then we should have no problems."
* * *
Monique brought him to a very upscale building. Greg saw a sign that said Trocadéro, but it meant nothing to him. Their huge, ritzy apartment was on the fourth floor and was quite spectacular. There was even a guest bedroom for him right next to Monique's.
"I'll leave you to get settled," she said, leaning against his door frame looking sexier than anything he had ever seen. "I'll be in my room if you need anything." Then she sauntered away, closing his door behind her.