A long weekend in Paris

Submitted by Twan

I thought it would be fun to surprise Marrit again. We had already talked about it, but it hadn't gotten further than some wild plans while enjoying a drink. Now, with the holidays just around the corner, a long weekend in Paris seemed like a lot of fun to do together. My last visit to the French capital dated back to 1975. As one of the few students with French in his curriculum, I was allowed to join a school/study trip to Paris during the final year. I can still remember having one of my first sexual experiences there as a budding adolescent.

At the time, Anneke hadn't gone much further than fiddling in each other's pants. Under false pretenses I had invited Marrit to come to Utrecht for a long weekend. From Friday morning to Monday evening, I had indicated as a time frame. The NS site indicated that I could no longer reserve tickets for the Thalys for the desired travel dates. Not even four weeks in advance. Everything would be sold out. However, I couldn't imagine that. Stubborn as I am, I went to Utrecht CS. At the counter for international train traffic at the railway station at Hoog Catharijne I was able to buy two tickets without any difficulty.

Via the internet I reserved a non-smoking hotel with a bathtub under the smoke of the Gare du Nord. Next to the subway station of the same name, that hotel would be a great location to act as a base for most attractions. The four-day subscriptions for Paris public transport were also in my possession. The following Friday I bought a digital video camera at Steenweg Electronics -how surprising- on the Steenweg in Utrecht. I intended to capture a lot of Paris, which was already deep in the Christmas spirit in November. How valuable would that prove.

I certainly did not rule out recordings of Marrit and me in advance. Saturday morning I got into my car and drove to Marrit's place of residence. The prospect of a weekend with Marrit alone was enough to cause a little unrest in my jeans along the way. Mild turmoil would definitely not be the term that could fully cover the sexual charge of that weekend. As usual, sparks flew between Marrit and me. When I said goodbye to her on Sunday evening, I realized that this was the last time I had seen Marrit before the Paris weekend.

By now I knew very well how I could persuade Marrit to do something unexpected in a few words. Based on that knowledge, I invited Marrit with a big wink to come to Utrecht next time, especially on Thursday evening. Supposedly I'd discovered a new restaurant I wanted to take her to. Marrit accepted. So it could happen that she stood in front of the gate with her car that Thursday, honking loudly. I pushed the button and the cast iron gate swung wide open. The fierce kiss in the courtyard would be the prelude to what turned out to be a very intense weekend.

When I arrived in my studio, I put down Marrit's briefcase. Between nose and lips I asked her if Marrit had enough clothes for all those four days. 'Four days? 'Shouldn't I just go home on Sunday evening?' I smiled mysteriously. You should never do that to a woman. That's just asking for trouble. Especially with Marrit. Very sweet at first, but gradually more and more compelling, Marrit wanted to know what was hidden behind my smile. However, I was adamant and kept my mouth shut. I quickly started talking about something completely different and luckily Marrit allowed herself to be tempted to sail on that new course.

The aforementioned fourth day remained undiscussed for the time being. Marrit sat down in front of the television in my easy chair. It was always difficult for me to keep my hands off Marrit, so this was the case again. I got behind her and started massaging her neck and shoulders. I felt lumps in Marrit's neck muscles, which I tried to massage away with varying degrees of success. In any case, I felt Marrit relax under my hands. My easy chair had a low seat. Actually a bit too low for me to be able to massage for a long time. I stood with a half bent back and that started to take its toll.

A slight pain made me tell Marrit that I wanted to massage her back too. Invitingly, I transformed my couch into a double bed. Before Marrit could lie down, I undressed her. I only let her keep her black panties on. Marrit lay down on her stomach in anticipation of what was to come. I had already taken the bottle of massage oil from the bathroom. Here and there I let a drop of oil land on Marrit's back. I may have had to heat the oil a bit, because now Marrit made a fright sound when every drop of oil landed. Not so run, I thought. Marrit became like wax under my hands. 

She surrendered herself completely to me in blind faith. After Marrit's back, it was her feet, calves, knees and upper legs. Marrit said she loved it when I took care of all ten of her toes individually. After I had massaged Marrit's back, I saw something on Marrit that I think was meant as a signal to me. Marrit tensed the muscles of her left and right buttock in turn. I hadn't touched that on purpose yet. Like an accomplished South American samba dancer, Marrit tensed and relaxed her buns. 

If Marrit wanted to feel my hands on her buttocks, I would be happy to help her. I put a few more drops of oil on my hands and started massaging her buttocks from below. I enjoyed Marrit's enjoyment. Her buttocks felt wonderfully soft under my hands. I thought it had something extra not to take her panties off. Through the leg holes of her panties my hands felt over Marrit's white balls. I had already calculated in advance that this would inevitably lead to a violent lovemaking. After showing each other every corner of the bed for more than an hour, my cum disappeared deep into Marrit's delicious pussy with a few violent hip movements.

After showering I told Marrit that we should go to sleep early, because we had to get up very early tomorrow. Marrit looked at me uncomprehendingly until I showed her the tickets for the Thalys and a brochure from our hotel in Paris. Disarmingly happy Marrit flew around my neck. It would have been close or we would have started another intense lovemaking. Our mind prevented us from doing that at the time. Despite our intention, we fell asleep late. The conversation about Paris and what would await us there kept us awake.

That also applied to Marrit's bare buttocks that lay against my also naked lap. Try falling asleep when your girlfriend's pussy is barely two inches from your cock. That requires iron discipline. That evening and night I did not get further than a maximum of seventy percent. I had ordered a taxi for the next morning to take us with our suitcases to Utrecht Central Station. At Den Haag CS, Marrit and I had to change trains to Den Haag Hollandsch Spoor, which would be the first stop of the Thalys after Amsterdam CS.

With the feeling that we have already had a whole journey, Marrit and I plopped down in the seats reserved for us. The train started to move, but I could not detect the famous high speed. It turned out that the TGV would only live up to its name after Brussels South station. As if the cars on the adjacent highway were standing still, we whiz past everyone at a speed of sometimes over three hundred kilometers per hour. Just before Paris, the driver released the speed controller and we slowly entered the Gare du Nord. It was less than a five minute walk from the station to our hotel.

Our room on the third floor of the Ibis Gare du Nord hotel TGV exuded luxury. After the bellboy had put down our suitcases and closed the room door behind him with a tip, Marrit and I made a short tour of our room. Everything breathed Paris. The bathroom, completely clad in Carrara marble from floor to wall, was fully equipped. Even a large jacuzzi was thought of. Marrit and I let ourselves fall back on our huge bed with outstretched arms. After we unpacked our suitcases, Marrit and I went to explore the area.

It was typically French with the high facades with their strongly slanted facades and the cast-iron bulging fences around small balconies. Our neighborhood was peppered with dozens of boutiques and eateries. Marrit and I settled down on a terrace and ordered a drink with a garnish. After our dinner at Aux Cedres du Nord, which would become our favorite restaurant, Marrit and I were going to take a cruise through Paris at night that I had already booked from the Netherlands. We took the metro to the Ile de la Cite. We got off at the Pont Neuf. From the Pont Neuf I already saw the tour boat.

We were welcomed on board by a hostess with a glass of champagne. Normally Marrit and I would have sat in the front of the boat, but tonight romance was in the air. So Marrit and I opted for two seats at the very back of the boat. It was not very busy on board. With a total of eight passengers, the lines were cast loose. We first sailed a long way upstream. Various monumental buildings were subtly lit and showed the grandeur of the once mighty French empire. On the left we saw the old town hall fully in the spotlight.

On the right bank we could just catch a glimpse of the pyramidal one glass entrance to the Louvre. After sailing upriver for over an hour, our boat made a one hundred and eighty degree turn. With the current, the facades passed us at least three times faster than just upstream. Passing under the Pont Neuf, we approached Notre Dame, which was floodlit to the left. Even now the square in front of the cathedral was full of people. Past Notre Dame our boat made another one hundred and eighty degree turn.

Now we sail to the right of the Ile de la Cite again against the current of the Seine back to our starting point. The entire tour had taken more than two hours. Against her better judgement, Marrit wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower. I knew we wouldn't be able to go up again tonight, but I let myself be persuaded to get back on the subway. As expected, the Eiffel Tower was closed. What was impressive were the thousands of small lights that alternately emitted bright to silver-colored light in an illogical order. That gave the Eiffel Tower something otherworldly.

It looked like one of the missiles I'd seen at Cape Canaveral, Florida. Marrit's eyes sparkled like the lights of the Eiffel Tower. Back at our hotel, Marrit and I decided to go straight to our room. I had arranged with the hotel that a bottle of champagne would be placed in our minibar every day. I turned up the thermostatic faucet of the jacuzzi. The rustling of clothes indicated that Marrit was undressing. When I came out of the bathroom, Marrit was staring at me stark naked. Her gaze spoke volumes again. I also undressed and betrayed that I was really looking forward to Marrit. 

My penis stubbornly reared its head again. Marrit walked around me into the bathroom, swaying her hips. The slut was just taunting me! Delicious! Marrit disappeared for more than half in a cloud of foam. I took the bottle of champagne out of the fridge and walked into the bathroom with two glasses. I put both champagne glasses on the edge of the jacuzzi. Then I fully concentrated on opening the bottle of Veuve Clicquot. While I did my best to let the cork come out of the bottle with that well-known 'sigh', Marrit was focused on completely different things. 

My semi-erect penis, for example. Like the iceberg that sank the Titanic, Marrit rose from the mountain of foam. If the captain of the Titanic was still desperately looking for an alternate course at the time, Marrit's course and target were unmistakably fixed. Marrit's right hand disappeared between my legs. Marrit's index finger sought my asshole. Marrit knew very well that I have a very important erogenous zone. Marrit grabbed my growing penis with her left hand. At the same time she kissed my head. Intoxicated with pleasure, I almost dropped the bottle of champagne. 

Marrit had replenished the remaining fifty percent of my erection to admirable proportions in no time. I didn't do anything myself except look in the full-length mirror at Marrit's blowjob skills. The feeling of being sucked and the mirror image of it brought me anxiously close to a climax. I wanted to pull Marrit's mouth off my cock to let her enjoy my delight too. Where Marrit is otherwise literally open to every touch, she wanted it to be all about me for a while. Her turn would come again.
She and I laughingly knew that was meant very literally. Marrit handled my cock very differently.

One moment she was caressing it, then suddenly pulling my foreskin back from my head with a jerk. Sometimes my cockhead did not get further than Marrit's lips and then disappeared almost to the root in Marrit's throat. I could sometimes hear her retching slightly, but that didn't stop Marrit from taking me from one extreme feeling to the next. I could feel my orgasm coming on. Marrit must have noticed that. Just before my cum was about to come out, Marrit pressed her finger more than halfway into my anus.

That not only gave me a wonderful feeling, it also made me shoot forward with my hips. My mega-hard erection disappeared again in Marrit's mouth. Again I heard her gag. Yet Marrit did not budge an inch again. Even if I was honest with myself, I still didn't know if I wanted to feel her index finger even deeper in my asshole or if it was a reaction to Marrit's gagging that made me move my hips back sharply again. Whatever my goal was, the result was in any case that Marrit's middle finger went all the way inside me.

Another unintended consequence was that my cock came out of Marrit's mouth. Exactly at the moment when the first sperm spurted out of my head right in Marrit's face. Even now I felt different emotions. My first was that I found it very hot to cume in Marrits face, but on the other hand my sperm on Marrit's face and neck had something, yes what exactly? Something submissive? Marrit did not experience it as humiliating at all. With one eye closed because of my cum in her eye socket, Marrit looked at me. Marrit stroked my seed drops with another finger.

About three times she brought her finger with cum on it to her mouth and licked that finger clean. Because of everything that had happened to me and around me, it was quite possible that I would be capable of a second ejaculation. Whether that was the case, I did not try at the time. I wanted to save my next orgasm to thrill Marrit. Our stay in Paris was one that was stiff, and literally as far as I'm concerned, with our sexual excesses. To describe every event would shrink a book like the Statenbijbel. Marrit and I have really done everything we could think of together.

Neither of them has marked a boundary anywhere. One of the most memorable moments for me was when Marrit and I were fucking each other in the most arousing positions in front of our drawn curtains. The choice of open curtains had been a joint one, but I confess as the main culprit. It was thrilling to know that from inside the room, all our gestures and positions were captured by the brand new camera. Knowing for sure that our neighbors across the Rue Jaqueline Bouvoir were visibly watching us in the semi-darkness whipped us up.

In Marrits and my fantasy, our spectators exactly imitated everything we did. Marrit and I came as if with whistles of steam. Exhausted and fucked silly we fell down on the bed. Marrit couldn't resist. She stood up again and walked to the window. Before she drew the curtains, Marrit pushed the net curtains completely aside. Marrit waved to our neighbors with her right hand. With her left hand, Marrit pulled the net curtains and curtains closed. Our weekend in Paris is etched in my memory. We enjoyed a lot. From the hotel, from the delicious food, from the city and from our steamy sex.

When I got home I had to put all the digital images of our sex on an external hard drive. More than half of the camera's memory was filled with our sex videos. Watching that back was pretty exciting, but the video footage cumming is just a pathetic surrogate for real steamy sex. We enjoyed our weekend away so much that we made more trips together. One of them in particular would also provide more than enough material for a written memory.


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