[WARNING: Adult content below. Read at your own discretion.]

I got to learn more about literature in those days with Jeanne than in my whole school attendance. And Proust, Dickens, and Pasternak weren’t mere writers. They were, as Jeanne called them, the Western Canon. They had helped to mould Westerners’ mentally over the years, Jeanne’s at least.

But what was going on with me? Jeanne had already admitted she was mad about me and that I rose to the expectations. She had met mine exponentially, and I knew I should be pleased but somehow it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t particularly bound to speak about herself, but above all that whole conversation about Proust made me feel uneasy. It was obvious it had something to do with her attitude towards relationships. My hopes were set in getting some more time with her. I acted all cheeky that entire day but inside I was going under, impatient to receive a positive answer, almost desperate to get to know her better. On the other hand Jeanne seemed to manage her timing perfectly and do everything at her own pace.

I finished to lay a perfect Japanese table and sat on my chair staring at Jeanne as she spoke to that Mitsuo guy. She completely snubbed me and just talked to him, the underside of her arm resting along the rim of the door, a hand on her hair and the other one tightly holding her robe between her breasts. I don’t know how he managed not to undress her with his eyes shamelessly. And the lad was so freaking obliging he offered himself to carry my handbag inside for her as he found it on the staircase when he arrived. But to make matters worse he didn’t even acknowledge my presence and didn’t seem too hurried to leave. Of course. Japanese food doesn’t get cold. Annoyed, I decided it was my last sushi in Paris but, in spite of that, I had to confess myself again there was something deeply arousing about seeing Jeanne talking Japanese and acting all flirty. It was nonsensical but for some reason it definitely felt good.

“I’m sorry about the wait,” she said blithely as she finally sat at the table. I was trying not to seem too crossed, so I forced myself to keep my arms falling on my sides. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” She sighed. At her question I frowned, scrunching my face lightly. This time she wasn’t choosing for me. We were making progress.

“I want to go to a museum and see some ephebes,” I stated poking the table and leaning towards her.

“Do you know what an ‘ephebe’ is?” She asked, startled.

“Zayn talked to us about them when we were researching about you”, I said relaxing my back on the chair. It felt like a million pounds being able to impress her. “He thought you could be into ephebes, so I want to see one,” I smirked cheekily, poking the table again. Jeanne began to laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Yeah, it sounded pretty ridiculous once it was said. But then…

“Well, it’s quite curious because I actually am ‘into ephebes.’ Bon Dieu, you are probably more clever than everyone imagines…” I didn’t know exactly how to take those words, but Zayn is definitely a genius.

“I guess there’s more in us than meets the eye,” I muttered, holding her gaze intently. Jeanne dropped her chopsticks and came closer to kiss me, throwing an arm around my neck. I ran mine around her waist, my fingertips sensing the delicate embroidered patterns of her robe as I deepened the kiss. Before it became too eager Jeanne pulled off and smiled.

“Once we finish supper I’ll call Lolo–––she murmured near my lips. He’s curator at the Louvre. I’m sure he can crawl us inside without any fuss. Now, be aware that you can be spotted…” She warned me. I couldn’t care less.

“He seems like a nice guy that Lolo–––I said casually. Are you two very good friends?” Jeanne laughed.

“We are actually–––she replied suggestively. Intimate friends…”

“Have you two slept together?” I asked in a husky tone.

“Maybe if I had a cock…” She smirked. I knew she was sparing my life. To assume she had slept with everyone she mentioned was so ungentlemanly on my part I felt quite ashamed, no matter what she had told me before, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, I see,” I mumbled, absolutely out of place. Self-confidence and grace provided Jeanne with a certain imperturbability that made her impossible to upset, and I was thankful, but I needed to stop trying her patience. Strangely Jeanne gave me a playful complicity smile.

“But we have kissed and don’t tell him this–––she muttered–––but I know he got hard-ons every time.” Of course he did.

As I returned from the bathroom I found that Jeanne had cleared the table and was facing away, leaning over the kitchen worktop, whispering on her mobile. I assumed she was speaking to Lolo so I kept my distance, discerning the deliciously sensual outline of her buttocks beneath the semi-sheer woven of her garment.

“Bah, oui, mais quand je l’ai devant moi je ne peux pas me résister…” She said as she glanced towards me, sensing my presence. Her expression transfixed for a second. “OK, tu nous fais entrer, alors. Bien–––she asserted. On se rencontre à l’entrée de Rivoli. OK, oui. Bisou.” She smiled warmly pushing her iPhone aside as I began to approach her. “Everything’s set,” she claimed blithely. I thought it was about time to learn French.

“I want that mandrake’s liquor,” I said resolutely, pointing up at the shelf once I got by her side.

“Did you like it that much, hmm?”

“How could I not?–––I retorted pinning her against the worktop. It’s exactly like you…”

“Exactly like me?” She asked raising an eyebrow in curiosity but turning away between my arms. Jeanne tiptoed to pick the bottle and her bum subtly grazed my crotch. She knew so well how to drive me out of my senses. I didn’t surrender one single inch so as she moved she kept brushing herself on me. The fabric covering each of us was so light I felt as I began to twitch inside my boxers. “So you know me now?” She asked defiantly as she turned around and offered me a shot glass. I took it and staring into her eyes I knocked it in one as she did with hers. She served another round and we repeated the action. God, it was strong. I could feel the hot liquid running through my stomach and the warmth spreading towards my limbs.

“I know many things about you but I want to learn many more…” I murmured in my raspier tone, leaning in as I put my glass over the worktop, returning to pin her. Jeanne mirrored my gesture, her eyes fixed on mine, and grasped the worktop’s edge. Our hands touched.

“Do you still want to do things on me?” She said softly.

“I do,” I stated.

“Take me…” She gasped.

“God, Jeanne, how can you be like this?” I engulfed her violently between my arms. She responded my motion throwing her arms around my neck. “I’m so mad about you I’m dangerously close to start reading,” I said breathing sharply. She laughed but I kissed her so hard I made her stop. Our bodies began to grind yearningly. I pulled off to catch my breath and Jeanne opened her eyes. “You are such a flirt but you already know that–––I groaned capturing her head between my hands. And I can’t help myself but melt every time… Say you don’t give a damn about that guy,” I mumbled shaking my head ‘no.’

“I don’t,” she muttered and I crashed my lips on hers, closing my eyes. As the kiss became hungrier Jeanne imposed her movement to me and we began to walk away from the worktop.

“And you don’t give a damn about the other Japanese guy…” I carried on as I took the lead, pushing her backwards.

“I don’t give a damn about him either…” She said soothingly.

“Tell me I’m the only one you want to sleep with,” I insisted opening my eyes as she reached the table, and slipped one leg between hers, throwing my hands to her hips, so soft and tight.

“I only want to do this with you,” she claimed quietly. Jeanne’s lids flickered open and we stared into each other’s eyes. I felt as if all my body was trembling out of control, and somehow feeling overexposed I turned her around to bend her over the table. I got closer, tightly grasping her waist and placing a hand on the nape of her neck. I glanced down to her back, concealed by the white, dainty woven, my head spinning around by alcohol or emotion, I couldn’t tell. Jeanne was pressing her cheek on the dark wood, her hair wildly sprawled around her, a hand by her side next to her face. She was panting in expectation, eyes closed. I came to rest my cheek on hers and grazed her with it. Jeanne’s body contorted under my contact in a way that hardened me even more.

“God, Jeanne, I…” I was burning from head to toe, words fighting to escape my lips. I know how emotionally overbearing I tend to be, but I didn’t want to stun her, so I shook my head and ran my hands underneath her robe, pushing it up. Her skin was so astonishingly soft. I cupped her buttock and grasped it forcefully, bending myself to lick it from the back of her thigh to one of her dimples. She instinctively jerked up.

“Yes,” she muttered, and I understood what she was meaning. My shaft was grazing her bum but I pulled away from her a bit to ease down my boxers. Splitting her legs apart I placed myself on her entrance and thrust in yearningly, returning a hand to her neck. Jeanne jolted, and she let escape a deep moan. I sensed her walls slowly stretching around me, admitting me inside her, and groaned. How much was I longing to have her like that, bare, mine…

Jeanne gasped as I kept her tightly against the table, my other hand roaming around her waist to finally press on her pubis. Her bum rose up to me as I rocked my hips on her sideways, then rough but deliberately, hypnotised by the vision of my length pulling out to sink deep inside her again. With Jeanne moving against me I soon found an irresistible pace that I knew would push me straight into climax.

“Tell me you are going to come hard on me,” I murmured jaggedly to her ear. Jeanne shook her head slightly, eyes wide shut.

“I’m going to come so hard…” She shuddered, knowing exactly how much ‘always pleasing Jeanne’ drives me out of my mind. I was so absolutely mad about her.

“Because this is the most arousing thing any man has ever done to you,” I grumbled. I felt my crotch beginning to tingle, but I tried to control myself, letting it burn me.

“Ah, yes, it is,” Jeanne said. I threw my head back, wishing it were true.

“Tell me you love to feel me like this,” I kept saying, pleasure hitting unmercifully on my lower belly.

“Yes, I do,” she moaned, arching her back up rhythmically.

“Come with me, Jeanne…” I leant in to speak to her ear but straightened up to keep the vigour of my motions. Jeanne writhed as I tightened my pressure on her. She panted confusedly, both hands on the table in gesture of abandonment. “God, Jeanne…” I groaned, allowing my orgasm to wash me as if I was floating.

I bent down resting heavily on her back, her body trembling between my arms. I was struggling to breathe, and my mind was so dazed for a second I almost forgot what we’d been doing. I fell on my chair dragging Jeanne with me, her robe all messed up revealing me her swollen parts, burning pale body of Jeanne I can’t take my hands away of. I caressed her and she shivered, her eyes closed and her back resting on my chest as she leant against me gasping and kissing me on the lips passionately, my fingers running across her skin up to her forehead, pulling her sweaty hair away.

–.–.–

“Tell me about the board over your desk,” I asked Jeanne as she returned to me after her shower. I had been waiting on her little terrace since I came out of the bathroom, admiring the night time view and drying my body on the breeze. I didn’t know she was inside changing the sheets too. I would have helped her. Fresh bed linen to cuddle with her sounded amazing though.

“Things that matter to me–––she said, sitting on my lap. Things I fancy…”

“So you fancy me,” I claimed boldly, remembering my photos. I knew she loved that.

“You are impossible to talk to…” She retorted, giggling.

“OK, OK, carry on–––I grinned. I won’t say another word. I saw some Opera’s posters.”

“I love Opera, but I haven’t been in a while. I don’t know anybody working there at the moment–––Jeanne explained. It’s a shame because this summer they’re putting my favourite one, ‘La bohème’ by Puccini, on a special soirée.” Maybe I could do something about that if she'd agree to see me on my break from tour. She didn’t seem to have made up her mind yet, or at least she hadn’t told a single word about it since I first mentioned it.

“When you say ‘anybody working there’ you mean a former lover, right?” I questioned her quite dramatically, partly joking but also partly serious.

“Not everything works that way…” She scoffed, shaking my shoulder.

“Oh, because I could have easily crawled you into One Direction’s show last night…” I remarked ironically, holding her tight by the waist.

“Are you comparing One Direction to Puccini?” She said bending back with a smirk on her face.

“I don’t even know who Puccini is…” I blurted. We both began to laugh.

“Of course you don’t, but you should–––Jeanne claimed after a moment. I’m sure you’d like it.”

“Do you think I’d like it?–––I snapped. More than bending you over the table?” She couldn’t help but cackle, convulsing between my arms, her head pulled back. I wouldn’t try to fool her; she was far too clever for that. I don't know what she is talking about most of the time but damn sure I know how to make her laugh. When she regained her composure I cupped her cheek in my hand. “Tell me I’ve ruined Mitsuo and sushi for you…”

“You have,” she admitted with her grimace on the lips.

“This is so good…” I mumbled and Jeanne acted all offended, as if she was going to tap on my chest. “No, no, no, don’t get mad. Come here,” I controlled her playfully to kiss her.

–.–.–

Notes

“Bah, oui, mais quand je l’ai devant moi je ne peux pas me résister…” You are meant to get this one so: 'Yeah, but when he's in front to me I just can't resist him..." I guess we can simply deduce what was Lolo's question. Ahem! Well, that scene... I know not everyone is OK reading smut, so if you skipped it but you want to know if you missed something meaningful, just ask. You know I'm always open to questions.

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