Continued:

She moved her hips faster and faster, rubbing herself up against him, the soles of her feet bracing her against the rough wooden floor, and when he began moaning it excited her further. Then she felt the white ribbon of his cum slap against her belly and drops sprinkle her breast. He looked shocked by his own climax, his face changing expressions from disappointment to embarrassment to apology. She had to let him know it was all right, that she could enjoy this as indeed she did, and she gripped his cock and it throbbed in her hand, sending another hot syrupy stream over her breasts.

She still didn’t know how much French he understood, and she asked him, ‘Pablo, are you a virgin?’

This, he understood. Head down, the slightest of nods.

‘It’s okay,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay.’

Oh, so sweet, she thought. She could read the sense of failure on his features, and she gestured to him that they would try again. She wanted to wash herself first, and they took turns at his basin. Then with another embarrassed smile on his lips, he lay down with her on his narrow single bed and held her, simply held her in his arms.

This is new to him, she thought. A drifter to Paris, having enough francs in his pocket to afford this tiny bed-sit, but staring at four close walls was hard on the soul, and if you wandered the streets, amusements still cost you money. He had never had a woman before, and while he did have friends, she knew from experience there were different shades of loneliness. She had given him a miracle this afternoon. He could go back and brag to his pals if he liked, but she didn’t care, and he didn’t look like the kind who bragged anyway.

She expected she would have to make him come again quickly before his body settled down and he could be inside her. She kissed his penis, taking the head into her mouth but no more, knowing this should drive him wild. It did. She heard him panting rapidly, and then with a flourish of passion, he coaxed her off him and tried to mount her, running his hands over her breasts and kissing her as she had taught him. He knew enough to be gentle but he was still inexperienced, and she didn’t know how to tell him she was dry again and wasn’t ready for him yet. She held his cock and rubbed him against the lips of her pussy, shutting her eyes and losing herself for a moment in her own fantasies.

Drummer.

She took a little of him in. Her mind flashed on Drummer’s green eyes, and then she was back with her man in the opulent bath of the Parizeaus’, Drummer kneeling beside the tub with his bow tie undone, her nipples touching warm water. Her juices flowed in response to the image and Pablo’s cock slid further into her, and he didn’t know, he didn’t know, the poor sweet kid had no idea he was only a substitute. Lover man, where are you? What have I done? Gone, gone too soon.

© Angela Campion