Madeleine

It was my first morning in Paris, and I thought that if you were going to do something, you should do it right.

So instead of standing in line for the Eiffel Tower, I decided to go out and find a real Parisian cafe, sit down at a sidewalk table, and order an authentic French croissant.

I found a place near my hotel, an apartment building where the rooms had been converted into small, bare-bones studios, that looked promising, and ordered in my halting French.

The man working behind the counter, after scowling at me, nodded curtly and brought me the pastry.

I sat sipping coffee and nibbling the flaky, buttery croissant, feeling very pleased with myself.

I'd never been outside North America before, and this whole foreign travel thing seemed like fun. It didn't hurt that I was sitting in a city that people all over the world romanticized about.

I noticed a girl standing just across from me on the street corner, staring off into space. She was wearing jeans and a tight white top with a generous neckline that showed off her spectacular tits.

Her hair was blonde and cut short, framing her face perfectly. I'd heard a lot about the beauty of French girls, and I was astonished to discover one so quickly after I arrived.

Every instinct inside of me was screaming for me to go over and talk to her. But, of course, I was way too shy to do that.

But then, to my surprise, she walked over, pulled out the chair across from me, and sat down. No "Mind if I join you?", no "May I?". She just plopped herself down and looked directly at me.

I was a little stunned, but not enough to stop myself from smiling nervously back at her.

"Bonjour," she said, an expectant look on her rather lovely face.

I told her that I didn't speak much French, and she smiled in that ineffably mysterious way that only European girls can.

"You have a very attractive visage," she said after scrutinizing me for a while.

I'd heard that many French people don't know English, but her English was surprisingly good.

"I... um, thank you."

"No, thank you," she said with a little smile and then leaned over toward me.

It was clear that she was trying to show me how big and lovely her tits were, and I tried not to stare.

But there they were right under my nose. I mean, they were the kind of perfect breasts that made you think about things that weren't appropriate for the middle of the day.

"I am called Madeleine," she continued. "What are you called?"

"My name is Ross," I answered, feeling inexplicably nervous.

"Enchantée, Ross," she said, a wry smile on her lips. "I have decided that I am going to kiss you now."

"What?" I asked, still a bit stunned by her forwardness.

Madeline then leaned across the table to kiss me on the lips. It was soft and slow, and it lasted for maybe ten seconds.

When it ended she grinned at me. "Hmm. Not bad for an American," she purred.

My head spun, my heart pounded, and my dick swelled in response.

"Who are you?" I muttered, mostly to myself.

But she just laughed and replied, "Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not," I admitted.

Anyway, I sure wasn't going to argue with a pretty girl who'd just kissed me. Besides, she had a point. I had just arrived in Paris, a strange land, and this girl had made my day in a big way. What was the point of asking too many questions?

Madeleine tilted her head and then looked at me, an inquisitive expression on her face. "You are a virgin, oui?"

I felt my cheeks burn. What an odd question! I mumbled something in response, and she repeated her question.

"I don't know what you mean," I lied.

"I mean, are you a virgin?" she repeated slowly, as if talking to a child. "Have you ever made love with a woman?"

"Oh God!" I gasped, scandalized by such frank talk in public.

"Well?" she prompted.

"I... Well, you might say I just haven't found the right girl yet," I muttered, unable to meet her gaze.

Madeleine nodded her head approvingly. "Yes, it is as I thought," she murmured.

I looked up at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Oui," she nodded solemnly. "When I saw your aura from across the street, I knew I must immediately come to you."

I stared at her. She was clearly very interested in me, and I couldn't understand why. But with my dick trying to poke a hole through my shorts, I couldn't expend too much energy trying to figure it out.

"How old are you, Ross?" she asked.

"Twenty," I replied. "Why?"

"That is old for being without a first time," she commented, arching an eyebrow.

"Well...it's complicated," I stammered.

"Ah, yes, I remember Americans and sex," she snickered. "I have seen many films from your country."

"What does that mean?" I snapped defensively.

"It means you wait too long to do it. And then when you do, you act as though it is the most important thing in the world. This is not healthy. People need to release their energies freely," said Madeline.

I tried to respond to that, but I was completely tongue-tied.

Then she added, "Ah, but maybe you are homo? Gay, I think is how you say it?"

"What?" I choked. "No! I'm not gay!"

She shrugged. "Well, you are twenty years old and still a virgin. Very suspicious."

"I told you, it's complicated!" I insisted.

"But you've never done it with a man, n'est-ce pas correct?" she said.

"God no!" I protested. "That would make me gay. No, no, I'm all about the ladies. I'm 100% straight."

"Good," said Madeleine, looking relieved. "So you find me attractive, then?"

"Yeah," I agreed sheepishly, praying she wouldn't look underneath the table and see my enormous hard-on.

"And you'd like to have me?" she said, a playful smile on those delectable lips of hers.

"I..." I began.

"Come on, yes or no, American," said Madeleine, her eyes crinkling with laughter.

"Wait a second," I said, still barely able to believe that this entire experience was actually happening. "How old are you?"

"I am 16," said Madeleine in a matter-of-fact tone even though her answer shocked me.

"Oh gosh, this is so inappropriate," I said. "As... beautiful as you are, I'm afraid I'm too old for you."

Madeleine just laughed. "Maybe in America. But this is France."

"Ah, right," I said, my heart racing.

"Good! Then it is settled," said Madeleine, clapping her hands together in a way that made those enormous tits of her jiggle in a way I found utterly fascinating.

"Um, it is?" I said with a gulp, my dick sending up urgent messages, warning that I was about to cream myself.

Madeleine gave me that same mysterious grin again, the kind that made me feel weak in the knees.

"Oui," she said firmly. "We will fuck now."

Before I could protest, she stood up and took my hand. "Take me to your hotel, Ross. My pussy needs filling with your American cock."

My mind was telling me to think this over, but I was done listening to the rational part of my brain. I immediately got up and paid my tab.

We then set off walking back to the building where my studio was located, Madeleine holding my hand as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend.