Deceived - Part 2 Paris (5 page)

“Oh you are so wet,” he growled in a hoarse whisper.

He splayed the lips of my labia open and his fingers burned into my tingling skin. While stroking himself with his hand, his tongue flicked and tantalized my pulsing fiery hot ecstasy. My muscles tensed the length of my thighs and his dexterous manipulations stoked the furnace within me.

“Oh yes, right there...” I pleaded. “Right there baby...” and with the last delicious flicks, I found the top of my orgasm and released the explosion. Urgently grabbing his dark curls, I clutched at his hair with both hands. He stood up and grunted a deep guttural sound through clenched teeth, releasing his cum all over my bare mound. Panting, he looked down at it with satisfaction, pushing the head of his cock back and forth through the creamy white evidence of his manhood lying on my skin.

The plane floor beneath my feet veered and shifted. The door vigorously rattled as if endowed with the weight of fifty men. At first I thought it was just our zealous actions but soon the realization that we were not alone sunk in. The stewardess was rapping on the flimsy restroom door. Apparently, we were experiencing turbulence and that meant everyone would have to return to their seats.

“You’re hot...
that
was hot.” He mouthed out the words against my lips in one last kiss, cupping my face in his hands.

“I...I don’t usually do things like this,” I grimaced like a man stung by a bee. “I mean it’s the first time in a restroom.” Another “first” I thought to myself, fumbling for my shirt while he put himself back together. A second impatient round of rapid fire knocks jiggled the door as we pitched violently to the left. A voice filled with urgency called for us to return to our seats from the other side of the pale beige door. Scratching
at the
lock, my fingers refused to cooperate. Jesse reached over, the epitome of cool and calm, encircling his arms around me to effortlessly slide the bolt open.

“Here let me...” he murmured as his lips brushed against my ear and he gave me little nuzzles that coincided with the click of the door.

Smiling like a Cheshire cat, we stepped out of the restroom to meet the stern face of the stewardess, a frown furrowing her brow, and her arms folded under her breasts. I rolled my eyes and glided back into my seat in the soft hush of the sleeping cabin, with Jesse following me like a puppy.

We ordered another round of drinks and leaned back relaxing in our seats. Well,
I
ordered a drink and apparently, Jesse had worked up quite an appetite and ordered a steak. Needless to say, this flight had turned out quite differently than I had imagined. I envisioned myself casually replying to Ryan’s “How did you sleep?” question when we got off the plane with a wave of my hand, and that I couldn’t sleep much because of all the...
turbulence
.

“Is that filet mignon?  I asked peering over at his surf and turf order.

He smiled a smug smile and said, “First Class baby,” as he popped a portion of speared meat into his mouth. My eyes watched his lips close around it as I thought to myself,
oh what those lips could do to me!

“You know…maybe we can hang out in Paris. Give me your number and I’ll hit you up,” he said between bites.

As devastatingly good looking as he was, I knew in my heart that our fling in the restroom was just that and nothing more. Though I didn’t know his exact age, he was too young for me. I was resigned to the fact that, a day or two after we were on the ground, all thoughts of me would vanish into thin air as the dawn of each new day would bring countless young Mademoiselles flouncing across his path, turning his head and his attention away from me.

“You can give me your number. Here…. punch it in on my phone,” I said as I fished my cell phone out of my tote bag and opened a new page in the contact list. He made a little frown at me but tapped his number in anyway.  

“You know, I really do want to see you. I’m not just feeding you the same old line,” he said with a sidelong glance in my direction.

“I know,” I said, “But a girl can’t be too careful these days, you know. Just a precautionary thing I do.” I lied and turned to look out the window into the blackness of the night sky. I would probably kick myself in the morning.

The weight of my eyelids was getting to be more than I could bear and I excused myself for a long overdue “power nap”. Jesse was a sweet guy and I was feeling guilty about being so evasive to his request to meet up in Paris. I reclined my seat all the way flat to the sleep position and drifted off to a fitful sleep, nursing a dull and melancholy mood.  

***

“Hey gorgeous.” The timbre of a gentle voice rustled the fog of sleep from my consciousness as I became aware of the luminescence of daylight filtering in the windows of the aircraft. My eyes focused on a gleaming white smile surrounded by full lips beaming down over me.  

“What time is it?” I mumbled, pushing my long amber hair out of my face as I realized Jesse had been watching me sleep next to him.

“Damn, you look good even first thing in the morning,” he said as he plied me with compliments.

I snorted and sat up, the blue airline blanket falling down to my waist.  

“It’s breakfast time.” He replied preparing his tray for the food delivery. “How’d you sleep?”  

“Pretty good,” I said gingerly rubbing the sleep from my eyes with my pinkie finger, trying not to rub all the mascara into my face.
Oh shit!
I needed to brush my teeth. Who put this fur coat on my tongue?

“You were snoring,” he smirked.

“Whaaaa...?” I protested. “I don’t snore.”

“Just kidding, you didn’t snore,” he placated me. “But you made cute little gurgling sounds in your sleep,” he teased. I swatted his muscular arm in a mock slap. I was sure I didn’t make noises in my sleep but I enjoyed his teasing despite it all.  Jesse made me feel comfortable, considering I had just spent the night with a stranger, a
hunky buff, handsome young stranger.  After a few minutes, he stood up and excused himself to find an available restroom.

The cabin suddenly brightened further and as I strained to look over the row in front of me, I realized with a smile, that we were almost in Paris. Next to the restrooms, I could see a fifty year old woman with gray hair straight down her back, wearing a dull burgundy sweatshirt, waiting to use the facilities. I decided to gather my toiletries and watch for a break in the line when I looked up and saw Ryan standing in the aisle. It was a good thing he chanced to come by while Jesse was away from his seat. That was one “awkward moment” bullet I had dodged.

“Hey
Chloe, good morning,”
Ryan said cheerfully.

“Good morning. How was your night?” I guess it won
’t be much longer until Paris,
 I spouted. The excitement was twirling like a baton in my stomach and Ryan could see how it affected me.

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “After breakfast we will prepare to land. I’m just going to duck into the can for a minute to freshen up. See you after breakfast.”

Jesse returned and slid into his gray leather seat, running a hand through his hair, those same disobedient tresses falling over his dark eyes and that well developed bicep muscle calling my name.

“What’s on the menu for break
fast? I’m hungry as a horse,” he said, slapping his hands on his massive thighs.

I snickered at his enthusiasm for food. Jeez, he acted as if he just came in from plowing the back forty.

“
Er.
..uh
...
griddle
cakes
and
grits?” I asked mockingly with a smile.

A delicious breakfast of strawberry crepes and whipped cream was served, making the last hour zoom by and before I knew it the plane was landing in Paris.

Reloading my body with my “homeless lady” fashion attire, I made a
graceful exit from Jesse, full of empty promises to meet up with him in Paris. Still feeling a little sheepish about our tryst, I was relieved to fall in beside Ryan as we filed out of the airplane, putting a little physical distance between Jesse and me.  

***

At the baggage carousel, Jesse came striding
over, loaded
down with a bulging duffle bag and a rolling bag in tow, that sexy hair bouncing in his eyes as he approached.

“Hey Chloe, what’s up?  Gotcher bags?” he said, his smile showing his gleaming white teeth.  

“Looks like you have all your bags,” I smiled sincerely.

“I guess I’ll be heading off now. Gotta make the soccer game at the local bar before it ends. I try to keep an eye on the sports over here.” His eyes were burning holes in me.

“Sure Jesse, it was fun.” I winced.
That sounded really lame
. “Good luck with your Motocross race here in Paris. I’ll be watching the sports news to see when they announce you as the winner,” I replied nervously. “My bags have been taking forever.” I turned and waved in Ryan’s direction. He stood a few feet away, fixedly monitoring the trail of luggage as the conveyor crawled along filled with bags that looked like bumper cars smashing into one another.

“That's cool, that’s cool. Hit me up then and good luck to you too with your gallery gig.” He ran his hand through his disorderly locks his
dark eyes burning through me and leaning over, gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, then turned and headed for the exit. I was all a flutter, my knees weak from the adrenaline rush, I nervously glanced around me, as if everyone in the crowded baggage claim area could hear my accelerated heartbeat.  

***

It was about midday, when we finally cleared out of the airport after having collected our entire luggage and filtering through Customs and Immigration, which was notorious for long lines and convoluted by slow-moving senior citizens. Once outside on the street, Ryan hailed a cab for us. Standing at the curb, the warmth of the sun penetrated my skin as if welcoming me to the city of love.

“Do you like it? Are you in love yet? It’s Paris you know,” Ryan teased as we fell back into the small cloth back seat of the taxi.

I laughed audibly, “Ryan, I just got off the plane. That’s pretty quick to fall in love, and who would I be in love with this soon...the cab driver, Pierre?” I shot back, furrowing my brow. I improvised and made up the name Pierre, making a joke to deflect any inkling of a hint about the connection Ryan may have noticed between Jesse and me. As the cab careened around the narrow streets carrying us towards our hotel, the Castille Paris in the center of the city, I stretched my neck to absorb every sight of Paris I could possibly view from the tiny window of the taxicab.

“Ryan, look at that building,” I pointed as we drove past the cafes. “Look at the architecture, I love it, it’s so old world charming, so much artistry in the brickwork and facades, and history just oozing from the storefronts.”

“I’m glad you are enjoying it so far. Just wait Chloe, this is only the beginning,” he smiled as he pitched into my right shoulder from the last sharp turn.