Monday, July 06, 2015
We shared a post-coitus cuddle, my head on his chest, his arm around me with his fingers stroking my hair. I was waiting a decent interval to declare our date over when his phone began chirping. He reached across me to lift it off the night stand, his weight pinning me to the bed. He was younger and handsomer than most and I'll admit I find him attractive.
He swore and then told me he needed to go. "Must you", I purred, stroking his stiffening cock. Now he was centered over me my arms and legs wrapped around him. "Temptress," he called me with a smile, "but yes I need to go. How about next week?" "I'm looking forward to it," I replied.
I watched him dress a go, thanking him for the Euro's left by my bag. I checked my watch as I laid in the bed, considering what to do next. It was about 3 PM and I was tempted not to leave the comfort of the room, it was paid for till morning. After all it was nearly 40 C outside. I needed to pee and in the bath noted the assortment of soaps and soaks, there were even candles. A bath was appealing.
Before dressing I checked for messages, Abbie tweeted that she was going to the home of her friend Farrah's for dinner, so I messaged Mandy and asked of her plans. She had none so we agreed to meet at Hero, a Korean restaurant in the 2nd.
When the twin's arrived in Paris, they asked to borrow my guitar and I noted the they had brought a violin with them. The following Wednesday, they texted me, asking them to meet them near the Sorbonne. When I arrived at the requested location, I found them with the instruments performing one of the six or so Cajun songs that they had recently learned. They had been joined by a young man with a concertina and while I can't say that there interpretation of the music was accurate, they had attracted a small crowd and the guitar case contained several notes.
Among the watchers was a petite girl wearing a hijab, her dark hair peeking out. It was obvious she only had eyes for Abbie and Abbie for her, this was Farrah. With my arrival the girls cut short their performance, introductions were made and the boy, having left his contact information, drifted away.
The morning following Abbie's dinner at Farrah's, she told me that Farrah's mother had asked if she could meet me. Our plans were to spend the 4th weekend at the village and the joining Mandy and Abbie, would be their friends from Neuilly, and Abbie asked if Farrah could join us.
I'd already made inquiries regarding Farrah's family and learned that her father was a well regarded small businessman and that they attended a moderate mosque. We met at a restaurant on the outer edge of the 19th. Meeting Warda, I could see where Farrah got her size. She dressed conservatively, her hijab tight around her face. She asked if I was the Kim ____ who had investments in the banlieues, I allowed that I did make investments in several small businesses and that seemed to comfort her.
She began speaking about Farrah, Allah had burdened her she said and that she and her husband were trying to protect their daughter till she was of an age that she could begin her own life. She then speculated that Abbie was similarly burdened. I reframed that as God made the girls special and they are a challenge for others to accept. She smiled at that. As our lunch ended she told me that Farrah had her permission to join us at the village.
We started out Friday morning, in Juliette's MPV. On passing into the western suburbs I noticed that Farrah had removed her hijab, her long, wavy, black hair now spilling over her shoulders. At a rest stop she removed the leggings and long skirt that she wore beneath a tunic, now her dress was indistinguishable from the other girls.
Friday evening I cooked for the six of us and after, Mandy and the sisters wandered off seeking an adventure. Abbie asked my plans and I told her I was joining Mirelle and a few other women for an evening of wine and gossip. I asked what she and Farrah had planned and she told me they planned to watch a movie.
I returned about 11 and found Abbie and Farrah, nestled together asleep on a pallet partly covered by a sheet. Farrah woke first and pulled the sheet over them hiding their nakedness. I could see in her eyes that she feared my reaction. By then Abbie was awake and I suggested that they may want to get up and dressed as the others would soon arrive.
Last week I stayed at the village, it was restful. This past weekend at LeMans for the race, not restful but exciting.
Abbie and Mandy arrive Friday for a month, more later.
The REIT that I've been a managing partner of for a few years is having a minor crisis. When we started out, my partners and I planned to have a fairly boring real estate investment business, we'd buy multi-tenant residential and commercial properties, spiff them up and collect the rents with expansion coming from borrowing against the increased value. My fellow managing partners are comfortable with this. The recession offered an opportunity to speculate and we took on investors for their capital. Now these investors are seeking a return far greater than collecting rents can provide. It's a challenge that's doable, but my partners are far out of their comfort zone. For me there are unknowns, but I'm comfortable with the risk. We've always made decisions by consensus, but they're paralyzed and can't decide. We'll get through it.
It was hot for Paris and muggy, initially we were to meet at a garden cafe for lunch before retiring to the Lumen on rue des Pyramides, but the heat sent us to Oscar the hotel's restaurant. For our date I selected a linen day-dress, sleeveless with a flaring skirt, in dusty rose that complements my complexion. I could pass easily for a pampered lady who lunches. Since fall, I have be seeing Marcel twice a month, always in the afternoon at different hotels. We meet for lunch at noon and he regales me with tales of the past week while I listen and ask a question or two to keep him going, not that it takes much. But he's interesting in the way that successful people can be interesting and I learn a lot by listening and parsing what he says. Marcel is 70-ish, trim, with a full head of snowy white hair, he remains the chairman of his company, but has passed the day-to-day operations to his chosen successor. He says, he is enjoying life and I'm part of the entertainment. This is the type of client assignation I like, regular and stable, with a gentleman who is easy to be with. So far I've resisted the temptation to suggest that he provide me a stipend. While that predicability is desirable, I don't want the entanglement that it would bring. Cash is more flexible. In the room, he requests a lap dance, I oblige and grind away offering my breasts to his lips. I don't know how dancers do this customer after customer, the chafing quickly leaves me sore and I switch positions lying atop him. He fondles my breasts and then a hand slides into my panties. Even with the little pills, Marcel suffers from mild impotency often struggling to have a decent erection, but I could feel him harden through his slacks. He wanted to fuck.
I dressed and left before he did. It was nearly 4 when I retrieved Marty, pushed the top down and headed for my apartment. Wags was anxious to be walked and after changing my shoes we did. Then it was dinner for the two of us and another walk, after which I settled down to read till it was time to prepare for another date. Kim
Cannes summary. Shared a crash pad apartment with four girls, it defined interesting. A plan for a restful evening, following a day on a boat, was disrupted by a request for a date. Duty called, after all, I was there to make money. The date turned out to be a party and I was in a taxi heading home at 5 AM. "The only thing more disgusting than these women, are the men who hire them." Said the female half of the couple with whom my date and I had dinner. Bit my tongue, rather than respond. Leaving for Monte Carlo for the annual bacchanal. This year the Grand Prix weekend was chosen.