Five Nights in Paris

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Chapter Nine

Adrien, September seven years ago

I groaned and rubbed my tired eyes, the computer screen felt like it was burning my retinas by now. I had spent the better part of the evening swapping between grading papers and shopping online for art supplies, Holly and I had been screwing around for a little over two weeks and I felt it was perfectly acceptable to lavish her with presents at this point. We hadn’t been able to get together nearly as much as I had hoped but between my classes and hers, we were limited to a few hours during the week and sometimes on the weekends. Another downside to this was that I hadn’t quite been able to broach the subject of sex with her, we had swapped notes on the fact that we had both been tested recently and she had an IUD, but I wanted to discuss the less technical stuff. I wanted to know how she felt about rougher, alternative, sex. She seemed receptive enough, she let me take a significant amount of control as it was, but I wanted more. The harness in the closet was begging to be used, as was the crop, and silicon paddle. But I had learned through trial and error that this was something that required an actual conversation, otherwise, signals would get crossed and one of us would end up severely disappointed. Like Emilie and her horror at the mention of any toys; ’you want to put what in me?’. Yeah, that hadn’t gone well.

The sound of my phone jolted me, I caught Holly’s name out of the corner of my vision and grabbed it eagerly.

Dinner at your place tomorrow? I’m done with this essay and need to unwind.

I grinned at her message and quickly sent back an affirmative, she sent back a smiley face and my heart fluttered. What should we have? Did she want to order in? I’ll eat out. Okay, I couldn’t tell her I thought that. I glanced back at the oil paints page open on my laptop and weighed my options; I didn’t want her to think I was buying her affection, or that this was some transactional sex, I just wanted to give her something to make her happy. And because I would like to have a painting of hers and that would probably only happen if she painted while in Paris. I chewed on it a while longer before I settled it; I had found a shop in the city that sold Old Holland Classic Oil Colours, I would go tomorrow before she came over and keep them hidden until I had the balls to gift them to her. To open her up to the idea I would bring her into my darkroom, I just got film for the Nikon and I figured she would like to see some of my projects.

My phone went off again and I reached for it with a pounding heart, it was Emilie. I sighed in disappointment and chided myself; Emilie was one of my closest friends, I should be happy to talk to her.

“Are you back in Paris?” I asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Only for a couple of days, you free tomorrow? Charles sent me on a mission to harass you,” she replied dryly.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course he did, but no I have…plans.”

Plans?” she asked salaciously. “Please elaborate.”

“I have a not date,” I said as I slouched in my chair. “It’s a date but she doesn’t know it’s a date.”

“Ah, the way to every woman’s heart; lying by omission.” The sound of people laughing and shouting almost drowned out her sarcasm.

“I’m not lying, or omitting, she asked to have dinner, but she also said she doesn’t want to date. However, I think dinner is a date.”

“Adrien, you think walking around downtown is a date, literally everything could be a date if you did the mental gymnastics.” I heard her sigh. “Charles isn’t going to be happy.”

“Do not tell mon pere, I don’t need him meddling in my sex life,” I snapped. I wasn’t irritated with her, just at the prying of my father.

“Do you think you can get this one to last longer than Maria?” she teased. “You don’t have a very good track record and it’s the reason your dad snoops; he doesn’t want any more mishaps or rumours.”

“I hate that you take his side, you know that? It’s not always my fault,” I said bitterly.

“Of course not darling, it’s those poor, inconsiderate women that aren’t into your weird sex stuff.” She did a bad job of masking her amusement.

“If it’s not mon pere becoming overly invested in my adult activities it’s an ex-girlfriend, thank you so much. And it really isn’t that weird.” At least, not to me, and hopefully not Holly.

Emilie laughed loudly and it made me smile at the wall as I relaxed a bit. “I’ll call you later this week and go over every inane detail with you just so I can over-analyze everything, I know how much you like me doing that.”

“Oh yes, my favourite past time,” she said with a snort. “Call me soon.”

We disconnected and I shut my laptop, I wouldn’t be able to grade anything now that I knew Holly was coming over again. The schoolboy thrill hadn’t worn off, having her at the apartment always seemed like a naughty thing to do, like I was sneaking a girl in. I hadn’t done that in years, and I was mildly convinced that it was because she could still be called a teenager that I had those feelings.

I had a lecture in the morning, so I decided to clean the living room quickly before going to bed; clothes, bags, and the occasional take out container were scattered around the space lazily. I didn’t need her to know what a slob I was now that I no longer had maid service. Well, that and Maman would put me out to pasture if she knew I had trash scattered around her 3.7-million-euro apartment. God help me if I even thought about letting the bin go an extra day or so before it got emptied.

Once everything was in presentable shape, I dragged my ass to bed, unable to stop thinking about Holly and what we could get up to tomorrow. My cock hardened as I slid under the covers, imagining her spending the night again and gifting me with another wake-up blowjob.

I had spent an obscene amount of money on paint and other supplies, the easel was beautiful - a stunning red beechwood, and awfully heavy with matching brushes, and a decent selection of paints. I had it delivered and discreetly stored in the study for the time being. Meanwhile, I had gone through my darkroom and prepped some of my recent photos along with my favourite camera to show off. Holly had left dinner up to me, while I worried that she might be disappointed I hadn’t chosen a French dish, I hoped she would like ossobuco. If not, we could order pizza, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

I was just putting the veal in the fridge when the intercom went off. I buzzed her in and made a mental note to have keys made for her sometime soon, I went to the door and pulled it open just as she knocked. She looked amazing; her hair straightened and pulled back into a high ponytail, a pleated orange and black tartan skirt with a high waist and a dangerously short hemline, a tight black off the should long sleeve shirt with no bra, stockings that came up to just below the skirt, and black ankle boots completed the dirty schoolgirl image. She looked older, she had done her makeup a bit heavier than usual; her eyes painted in a smoky grey with swooping eyeliner, and bright harlot red lipstick - a colour I hadn’t seen her wear but loved just as much as the pink. She smiled shyly at me and I pulled her in for a long kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I lifted her up slightly as I groped her ass.

“It’s nice to see you too,” she mumbled against my mouth.

I set her down and closed the door behind us, unable to hide my grin. I hoped I didn’t look too underdressed in my navy-blue crew neck with the sleeves pushed up my forearms, and dark grey faded jeans. My beard was a bit longer as I realized I forgot to trim this morning; my hair was getting a bit long too - hanging just below my ears in thick waves. Holly slipped off her heels and I watched as her skirt rode higher, I rubbed my jaw as I noticed she was wearing a thong again. Clearly, she wasn’t afraid of someone catching a glimpse. She straightened up and came over to the counter where I was leaning.

“I’m glad we could get together tonight,” I said softly as I leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Do you have plans for this evening?” she asked innocently.

“Many, most of them involved you naked but I think I would prefer the skirt on.” And bent over my desk with my fingers in your cunt.

Her eyes sparkled and my heart skipped a beat. “You like it? I thought maybe it was too short, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

I laughed at Holly’s light blush. “It’s perfect,” I cooed close to her ear, my fingers trailed down her neck gently and I felt her shiver. “I have something to show you, come on.” I pulled her along behind me, acknowledging her confused glance with a sly smile.

I led her into the spare bedroom and tried to ignore the locked cabinets that flanked the double doors to my darkroom; they held a collection of toys and equipment that I hadn’t been able to use for a while. I picked up the camera off the nightstand, when I turned back to her she was gazing out at the city, her eyes locked on the Eiffel Tower and lips parted slightly. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity; quickly moving to a better position and snapping a photo of her profile as the warm light bathed her in a soft halo. She blinked and looked over at me, she noticed the camera and her blush came back stronger.

“Sorry, I should have asked,” I said sheepishly. That was rude.

Holly smiled and took the camera from me, turning it around in her hands and assessed it closely. “Adding me to a collage of conquests?” she asked with a giggle.

A flush crept up my neck; I did have photos of most of my exes, but I had never thought of them as trophies. “No, I figured I’d turn it into a wallpaper print, you know - really complete that serial killer image.” I strived for a playful tone to hide my sudden embarrassment.

She turned to hide her smile as she paced the room, I walked past her to the doors and caught her attention. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

Holly arched a delicate eyebrow at me but followed none the less. I ushered her quickly into the darkroom, the ominous red glow bathed the room and illuminated the dozen or so photos I had hanging. She moved around the room slowly, assessing my pictures and lingered longer on the random couple I had photographed while they sat in front of a fountain. She unclipped it and was mindful to not smudge it as she held the corners.

“Do people pay you to photograph them?”

I shook my head. “No, I did a couple family weddings, otherwise all of it is done when I have a camera on me and the urge strikes. I’ve held expos though; a series about unconventional love, like a woman with her closest friend, a man with his son - things that people don’t consider to be ‘real’ love.”

Holly stared at me with an unreadable expression and I suddenly felt exposed, maybe I had told her too much too soon. She looked over the rest of the pictures with fascination and asked me to explain my reasoning behind each one, I was more than willing to prattle on about my hobby for as long as she wanted to hear. My eye caught the video camera in the corner, and I hid my smirk. Maybe she would let me photograph her one day, or possibly record us together. I pushed those thoughts back and pinned the pictures up again before I led us back out into the bedroom. My hand rested on her lower back as I shut the door and I felt her shift suddenly.

“What’s that on the wall?” Holly asked

I turned and followed her eye line; my stomach flipped as I saw the mounts on the walls. The steel rod was in the cabinets, but when it was up it had multiple d-rings for attaching a rope or other restraints to. I tried to keep my tone light as I replied, “A sideways stripper pole, you never know when you might need one.” Or several metres of tensioned rope.

To my relief she laughed, the sound made me smile. “It’s hard for me to act out a stripper fantasy if its seven feet in the air,” she said and cast me a smirk.

The sultry way her voice lowered and tilt to her lips had the same effect as if she had her hand down my pants. “It would be hard for me to tie you to it if it was vertical,” I said quietly.

Holly’s eyes met mine and her lips parted, she stole one last fleeting glance at the mounts. “Tie me to it?”

I approached her with slow determination, my hands slid up her waist and pushed her arms into the air. She blinked rapidly as I leaned in for a deep kiss. I pulled away and ran my teeth along her jaw before I got closer to her ear. “Like this, handcuffed to it, unable to move away.” I heard the sharp intake of breath and kissed her throat.

“What would you do?” Her voice came out slightly high pitched, her breathing off-kilter.

I guided her arms back down and held them tightly behind her back, it pushed her chest out and made her squirm under my hold on her wrists. “What would you let me do?” I pushed my knee between her legs as I pinned her to my chest, my cock hard and trapped between my thigh and her hot cunt.

Holly moaned softly and rocked her hips, rubbing herself against me. “A lot,” she whispered. “I like the stuff you do to me already…”

I smirked and tilted her chin up to meet my gaze. “What ‘stuff’ exactly? Be specific.”

“Um,” she said as her eyes widened. “You’re rough; I like when you pull my hair, and more when you spank me.” Her cheeks were bright pink as she spoke, “I like the way you take control.”

“What do you want me to do to you?” I asked roughly, my grip tightened on her wrists.

Her tongue ran along her bottom lip as she contemplated her answer. “Choke me. Not like, really hard, or anything, but yeah.”

I released her chin and seized her throat, my thumb and forefinger lightly squeezing - not enough to hurt her, or even cut off her breathing - just enough to make her gasp and her eyes to flutter shut. My hand looked massive against her slender neck, and the feeling of her pulse on my palm made me draw in a ragged breath. I pressed my lips against hers, her mouth urged mine open and she tried to lean up into me. I released her wrists and wrapped my arm tight around her as she moaned. My heart was pounding in my ears, my whole body felt like it was on fire and everywhere she touched made it burn more. I felt her hands rest on my abdomen; the gentle touch sent shock waves through my groin as my muscles tightened. I felt high; she wanted me to be rough with her, she was open to the idea of me tying her up, and it all made my entire body hum with excitement. I pulled away despite her pout, I didn’t want anything as much as I wanted to throw her on the bed right now, but I had to draw the night out longer. I led us back to the kitchen and tried to ignore the way my jeans were grating on my erection.

Holly moved with comfortable ease around the kitchen; as if she had been here a hundred times. I liked watching her move as we prepared dinner together, it was so domestic and foreign to me to have someone else here like this - it made the apartment feel less empty and cold. The sound of her laughter and watching her taste the sauce, pouring us both wine; it was something I didn’t realize I wanted until I saw watched her talk animatedly about university. She didn’t have class until late tomorrow and eagerly agreed to spend the night as I slid the veal shanks into the oven. She was lounging on the sofa when I joined her; one leg stretched out the length of the couch and the other pulled close to her chest. She shifted as I sat down across from her; facing each other with her foot in my lap as I massaged it absently. She rested her head on the back of the sofa, her eyes fell shut for a brief moment, and I watched her chest rise and fall with the deep breaths she took.

Holly moved slightly and her skirt shifted, revealing the black lace thong that barely covered her snatch. I swallowed. “You should wear that skirt more often.” My voice was low and heated.

Startling blue eyes met mine, her lips twitched in a subdued smile as she tugged the hemline down a bit. “Perv, you just want to stare at my panties.”

“You could always go without; then I can stare at your cunt instead,” I said with a mischievous grin. Her eyes widened and I tried not to laugh at the shocked look on her face; she seemed to flinch every time I used the word and I enjoyed the reaction immensely.

“I knew you had a naughty schoolgirl fetish, that’s the reason you like this skirt.” She crossed her arms defiantly, sticking out her tits and turning her head to pout dramatically.

Fuck you’re cute, chaton. “Come sit in my lap, I’ll show you how much of a perv I really am.” She side-eyed me, giggled and crawled across the couch to perch on my lap; her knees on either side of my own and her tits at perfect mouth level. My hands slid up her thighs and kneaded the soft flesh of her ass as I gazed up at her.

“Is this the part where I tell you I really need to pass the class?” she teased breathlessly.

I kissed her jaw before I replied, “No, I this is where you tell me you’ve never done this before and you’re still a virgin - or so I’ve heard.”

She scoffed. “A little late for that.” I laughed into her neck, my teeth grazed her skin as I licked and sucked the sensitive area just under her jaw that made her moan. “Adrien?” she asked softly.


“You never told me what you wanted to do with me,” she whispered. Her fingers threaded through my hair and she tugged gently. “That pole…” she trailed off, leaving whatever she was going to say open-ended.

“I want to tie you to it,” I said gruffly, abandoning all subtly. “I want to have you vulnerable, exposed, and begging me to fuck you as I spank your ass. I want to make you come over and over until your knees are weak and you can’t stand.” I paused and nipped her collar bone. “I want to see the look on your face when your kneeling in front of me.” Submitting to me.

Holly’s heart rate sped up, I could see it pounding against her throat as she swallowed and tried to respond. “I’d like that,” she gasped out as my fingers slipped between her ass cheeks and brushed the band of her panties. “I like being called names too.”

Oh? I smiled to myself. “What names, chaton?”

“That,” she mumbled. “I like when you call me that. And other stuff sometimes…”

I knew what she was getting at, but I wanted to hear her say it. “You’ll have to be more specific,” I teased.

“Um, l-like slut and stuff.” The way the words tumbled out of her at lightning speed and the stutter betrayed her utter embarrassment.

I wondered if maybe she liked a bit of humiliation play, she certainly seemed to like a bit of exhibitionism. “You want me to call you a filthy slut?” I growled.

“Yes!” she cried out as I slid my fingers down further to stroke her slit.

Her fingers twisted in my hair and she ground down on me as we made out. I pulled the elastic in her hair; freeing it and feeling the silky locks as I held her to me. My cock was throbbing, my heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest, and all I wanted was to drag her back into the spare bedroom. A noise caught my attention and I jumped as I realized the door was being unlocked. Holly’s head snapped up and she looked like a deer in headlights as I threw her off my lap and rushed to the door just as it opened.

Mon cher?” Ma mere called loudly.

My blood ran cold as I grabbed the door and tried to block the view of the couch; my mother was standing in the doorway looking thoroughly confused and frowned at me. Her blonde hair was down and cut in a sharp shoulder-length bob, her green eyes narrowed at me in annoyance. She wore an all-black pantsuit and red pumps with a shoulder bag almost spilling over with documents.

“You can’t just barge in here,” I hissed, switching to Français so Holly wouldn’t understand. “I have a guest, mother.”

Ma mere’s eyes lit up and she pushed past me into the foyer. “Bonsoir!” she cried with a wide smile.

I rubbed my face in an attempt to hide my horror. Holly looked just as startled, if not more than I did. She had stood up and I noticed she had pulled her skirt down slightly and smiled shyly at ma mere.

“Uh - hi, bonjour…” she whispered and offered a small wave.

My mother spun around and cocked an eyebrow at me. “American?”

“Oui and she can hear you, you know,” I said bitterly. I tried to send telepathic signals to Holly, begging her to not panic.

Ma mere’s eyes widened, and obvious realization dawned on her. “Oh! This is the girl you’re seeing!” she cried happily. She practically ran to a very startled looking Holly and pulled her in for a hug.

I cringed internally; my hand swept through my har as I desperately tried to find a way to kick ma mere out without being rude. “Holly, this is my mother - Blanche, and she’ll be leaving anytime now.” I glared at her pointedly. That wasn’t subtle.

She huffed and released Holly. “It’s so nice to meet you; this trou du cul never wants to introduce me to his girlfriends.” Ma mere turned to me and pulled Holly into a side hug despite her obvious discomfort. “You’re bringing her to the dinner next week, aren’t you?”

I took a deep steadying breath and offered a tight-lipped smile. “I haven’t--”

“Of course, I will Blanche, Adrien asked earlier.” Holly smiled reassuringly at me and any frustration that built up instantly quelled. “I was hoping he and I could talk about it a bit more - in private…”

Ma mere beamed and kissed Holly’s cheek before coming to hug me and whisper in my ear, “She is very pretty - don’t fuck this up mon cher.”

I blushed as she shut the door behind her, and I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m so sorry,” I said sheepishly. I walked towards Holly and leaned against the couch.

“I didn’t know I was your girlfriend.”

“I didn’t say that,” I said quickly. “She assumed; I just didn’t know how to correct her…”

She smiled and looped her arms around my waist. “I’m not expecting you to share the gory details with your mom.”

I chuckled. “The gory details?”

“Okay, the vulgar details then. She can think what she needs to, I’d just prefer that she didn’t barge in.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing for many years,” I muttered.

Holly laughed and dragged me back to the couch, we didn’t lapse back into our fooling around right away, but I didn’t mind. Part of me was thrilled that she handled that as well as she did, the other parts were over the moon thinking about taking her to an event as a date. I couldn’t wait to have her on my arm and introduce her to other friends and family.

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