We are meeting up in London for a couple of days, shortly before Christmas, when we can get together and relax before other commitments take over. It is unusual for us to have more than a brief meeting, often just an overnight stopover, so I want to make it memorable and to become part of my Christmas gift to you.
You are very keen on beautiful lingerie, and I obviously benefit from your obsession, which enhances your sensuality and sexuality for both of us. You love to dress in flimsy finery, and to flaunt yourself in front of me. I love to see you dressed so beautifully too, though my immediate wish is usually to get you undressed and into bed!
I have tried to buy you lingerie before, but it is very difficult to be sure about your current preferences, as fashions change, and there is always the minefield of sizes, styles and shapes to navigate, as well as colours. I have learned that the automatic male preference for combinations of red and black is not always what is wanted; sometimes, a subtle floral design is more of a turn-on.
So I decide to treat you to a proper 'fitting' session at an expensive outlet, where you can choose whatever you want; I'm sure you will love it and I'm also sure that I will benefit too!
To make it all the more memorable, I suggest that we visit a famous outlet in Paris, as part of a day trip from London, by the Eurostar service through the Channel Tunnel. You are astonished, but delighted, and even more so when I explain the luxury class tickets that I have booked, including Champagne breakfast en route, and a gourmet meal on the return trip.
The service takes only 2 hours or so from Central London to Central Paris, so I have arranged to collect you from your hotel to catch the earliest train from St Pancras Station. We will have the whole day in Paris, before catching the return train from the Gare du Nord in the early evening and delivering you back to your hotel.
Though focused mainly on the lingerie shopping, we may have time to see a few sights of Paris just in passing, and of course to eat and drink well while there. We can only hope that the weather will be kind.
You are very excited by the prospect of the trip itself, but mainly by the visit to a famous lingerie outlet, which you have always dreamed of visiting. I have booked a private fitting session for us at their most prestigious outlet, on the afternoon of our visit. We have a full session booked for 1 pm.
I collect you from your hotel very early. You are perfectly dressed of course, conscious that you will be visiting a very upmarket outlet, and examining expensive lingerie. You are also fizzing with excitement and it is clear that I have made a very good choice of Christmas gift for you.
We enter St Pancras and pause by the large bronze statue of the lovers from Brief Encounter, where of course, we hug and kiss deeply, as so many others have done, before moving on to the International Departure point, and boarding the train. Our reserved seats are waiting, with the table already prepared for breakfast.
Your blue eyes are bright with the wonder of it all, and as the journey begins, our waiter brings a chilled bottle of champagne to accompany a light breakfast You choose to add Orange Juice to make Buck's Fizz; I am more cautious because I know that champagne is just too easy to drink in that form, and can be very intoxicating.
So it is! In no time, before we have even left London, you are talking non-stop about how exciting this all is and what a wonderful gift it is. Your thoughts turn to lingerie, and the choices ahead; even talking about it seems to excite you even more and it is clear that you are becoming aroused already, shifting in your seat.
I am a little amused, but enjoying your arousal, especially when it leads you to reach forward and stroke my thigh sensually, while pouting and licking your lips ostentatiously, flicking crumbs of light croissant into your mouth, already sticky with strawberry jam. Our conversation becomes more and more sexually suggestive and risque, and our touches more and more adventurous.
I suggest that we should try to cool down, as other passengers are within view and hearing, but you giggle and stand to leave, walking (rather unsteadily) down the carriage towards the toilets. When you return, you have an enormous grin on your face, and I ask what you are up to.
“Simon,” you say, “what makes you think I'm up to anything? If anyone's up to something, it's you! I know exactly what you want from this trip... And I'll be very happy to give it to you, too!”
I laugh, because you are right, after all. “I know, Sara,” I say, “but you are getting what you want as well. We are going to have a fabulous and sexy day, aren't we.”
You lean back in the seat opposite me, and slowly draw your skirts up above your knees, then to mid-thigh. You cross your long, shapely, elegant legs, making the hem of your skirts ride even higher. The passenger on the other side of the carriage, alongside you, clearly notices the display of your legs, but tries not to stare. You are certainly aware of his glances.
You lean forwards to me and whisper, “Would you like to see more, Simon?”
I can only nod, and shift uncomfortably in my seat, as my cock begins to swell and harden at your suggestive performance. You sit back in your seat again, and slowly uncross your legs, spreading them as wide as the seat will allow. I sigh, as I realise that the reason you had left your seat was to remove your panties, and your damp clean-shaven pussy is now on full display, though only to me.
I have to cover my erection with a menu card, and you laugh at me, saying “What's on the menu today, Simon?”
One of your manicured hands slips down between your thighs, and a long finger reaches upwards to tease apart your moist pussy lips. Your eyes try to lock onto mine, but I am staring fixedly at your flowering pussy lips, now revealing their pink inner centre.
You giggle at my inability to look away from it, and try to distract me, by stroking the sheer silk of your full blouse to make your erect nipples stand out even more proudly against the material; you circle them with your thumbs until you realise that our fellow passenger is watching now. He looks away as soon as you glance across at him, and you whisper, “No-one else can see between my legs, Simon.”
Perhaps it is the effect of the champagne fading, but you sit back now and your eyes close, though your legs do not. Our fellow passenger stands and moves down the carriage, glancing back furtively to look at your naked, open pussy and your still-erect button nipples proudly pushing your blouse outwards. He stands there for some time and clearly enjoys the view, until I lean forwards and wake you by pressing your knees together.
“You've been flashing everyone, Sara!” I say.
You giggle and say, “I hope they liked what they saw. It was only meant to be for your eyes, but it's exciting to think that other people have been looking!”
“I'm sure it was exciting for them too,” I say, “ but we are nearly in Paris now. It might be a good time to make yourself presentable in public again!”
You stroll along the carriage again, smiling and catching the eye of every other passenger. When you return, you are fully dressed in your coat, ready for the cold air of Paris as we disembark.
By the time we get through the arrivals process, there is not very much time left before our appointment at the lingerie shop.
However, there is just enough time to take a cab ride to see the Eiffel Tower, stroll briefly around the Glass Pyramids at the entrance to The Louvre, and another cab (slowly!) around the Arc de Triomphe, and down the Champs Elysees. Nearby, we stop for a quick bar lunch of a sandwich and of course a glass of wine, before going to the lingerie outlet nearby.
There is so much more to see, though Notre Dame is being renovated after the fire; I recommend a trip around the Catacombs next time we visit, and in complete contrast, I can recommend the Crazy Horse nightclub for an evening out. Even before we get to the real purpose of the trip, we are starting to plan our next!
At the lingerie shop, we make ourselves known and are ushered into a private room where we are greeted by an immaculately dressed and made-up girl who tells us her name is Chloe. She apologises (needlessly) for her English; I find her strong French accent strangely arousing, as she asks you what your 'desires' might be and I wonder whether you can keep your mind on lingerie.
You discuss the intricacies of lingerie for at least half an hour, while I sit and watch your animated conversation. Clearly, you and Chloe are finding much to talk about, and sharing your personal likes and dislikes. Then Chloe asks whether she can measure you, and looks questioningly towards me.
“Oh, don't worry about Simon!” you say, “He's seen me naked before!”
Chloe giggles and helps you to undress in front of me, taking an endless number of measurements around your large breasts, your hips, ass and long, shapely legs. Then she leaves to gather a selection of lingerie for you to try on, based on your conversations. While she is away, you come over to me and sit naked on my lap, wriggling your ass against my groin to tease me. By the time Chloe returns, I need to cover myself again!
You try a variety of styles, shapes and colours, parading up and down in front of me for my approval- the only problem is that I approve of them ALL. Chloe tries to show the advantages of a looser style of panties than we are both used to, by kneeling alongside you. She looks at me as she runs her fingers up your thighs and I think I see you shiver with pleasure as she reaches inside the open pantie legs to touch your pussy lightly.
She pulls the loose covering aside and says, “See, m'sieur, everything is very easily accessible! I can demonstrate more if you want?” she adds, looking up at you now. You are breathless as you nod, and rest one hand on Chloe's head. She presses her beautiful face against your pussy and I can see her tongue darting quickly between your lips, while her fingers pull the folds of your panties to one side, for me to see more clearly.
I am astonished at the performance unfolding in front of me, but very quickly, your legs start to shake and you throw back your head. You try not to squeal, but have to bite your lip as Chloe expertly brings you to orgasm; clearly, she has done this before! You grasp her head and sink to your knees beside her, to kiss her deeply and taste your own juices on her lips.
I am standing now, in every way, and move towards the two of you, as you kneel together in the middle of the floor. You look at Chloe, and there is clearly an unspoken female agreement between you both, as you reach up to my waistband and unfasten my flies. You look at each other again, and together you slowly pull my trousers down to my knees; Chloe looks approvingly at the head of my cock protruding above the waistband of my briefs, and together you both draw my briefs downwards too, revealing the full length of my cock and the tight swollen balls at its base.
Chloe looks at you and says, “Sara, may I? You will have many more opportunities, no doubt, but I will probably never see Simon again.”
You look up at me but say to Chloe, “Please, be my guest; he deserves it!”
With that, you grasp the shaft of my cock firmly and point it down in the direction of Chloe's beautiful red lips. She looks up at me again and takes just the throbbing head of my cock expertly into her mouth, wrapping her lips very tightly around it, while you stroke the shaft of my cock firmly up and down.
You are both staring into each other's eyes while you share my cock. And I know that I have to look away, or I will cum very quickly. I put my hands behind my back, and look up to the ceiling, then close my eyes, to focus on the sensations you are both providing me. Chloe is an expert fellatrice, and swirls her tongue around the head of my cock, while clamping her lips around me and sucking hard. But only the head is inside her mouth, while you use one hand to stroke my cock firmly and the other to play with the weight of my balls, twirling them around in your soft fingers.
This cannot go on much longer! From the tremors in my cock, Chloe realises this, and withdraws me from her mouth to say, “Simon, Sara, there can be no evidence of this liaison, of course, so may I complete the task now?”
You look a little puzzled, but I know instantly that Chloe means she must swallow my cum without spilling any, and I nod silently, She returns the head of my cock into her mouth and begins to suck even more forcefully, making slight slurping noises which I find add to the eroticism of the occasion. You realise too that the end is coming, and grip the shaft of my cock with both hands, squeezing and stroking more and more firmly.
It does not take long. I groan loudly with the coming release, and thrust forwards through your hands and into Chloe's mouth, then stop as the cum starts to pump through my shaft- you squeak as you feel it, and press one hand firmly between your clenched thighs. Chloe looks up at me and flinches only slightly as the first spurt of cum hits the back of her throat. She immediately swallows some, but manages to gather most in her mouth, until I finish cumming.
She withdraws my cock carefully, and puts back her head, opening her mouth wide to show us both the creamy white cum she has harvested from me. When she is sure we have both seen, she closes her mouth, smiles at us, and swallows the entire load with one noisy gulp.
You gasp with the release of tension, but you are still trembling from what you have seen. You cannot resist grasping Chloe's head and kissing her deeply, as though you want to recover some of my cum from inside her mouth. You must certainly recognise the familiar taste of my cum, but for good measure, you also take my slightly softening cock into your own mouth and noisily suck it dry of the very last drops.
I fall to my knees with you both, and we all hug closely, and kiss.
It is slightly difficult to return to a businesslike relationship after that, but we all slowly compose ourselves again. You and I both have to dress ourselves, but Chloe is still immaculate and unruffled; even her lipstick is still perfect! She has a devilish glint in her eyes though, and seems to have enjoyed the occasion too.
You gather the (many) items of lingerie you have chosen, and of course, I pay the bill. I have no hesitation in doing so, and tell Chloe that I have never had such good service before!
As we leave, she says, “It has been a pleasure to serve you both; please do come again!”
We step out into the cool air and I think both of us wonder whether we had experienced some sort of fantastical hallucination; but the emptiness in my balls tells me that it was all real. The very thought of it encourages them to recharge, ready for our next experience.
We still have a few hours left before the train leaves for London, so after a strong coffee and a sweet chocolate eclair, I suggest we take the Paris Metro to Pigalle. It is not a great experience, simply because of the noise and crowds, but we are delivered to Pigalle efficiently, and walk up the steep side streets to the steps of Sacre Coeur.
It is a spectacular place, crowded with tourists of course, and artists touting for business. As a memento, I ask one of them to quickly draw your portrait. He is well-practised and it takes no time at all to produce an excellent pencil drawing of you. He captures the sexy look in your blue eyes and the slightly parted lips, with one manicured finger touching your lower lip enticingly When I tell him your name, he labels the portrait “Sexy Sara” and adds his own signature with a flourish; he has clearly sensed that sex is in the air.
As darkness begins to fall, we walk down the narrow side streets towards the brightening neon lights of the strip clubs and sex shops of Pigalle. You put your head on my shoulder as we walk and say, “Simon, this has been the most wonderful day ever. I don't think I want it to end!”
“It isn't over yet,” I say, “Don't you find this area exciting?”
The sounds and sights become even more sexy as the darkness gathers its cloak around us. We still have a little time before we have to get back to the train.
I say, “I don't know about you, Sara, but the memories of Chloe and you are getting me hot again!”
You agree that you can feel the blood pulsing again, and your pussy is still damp and swollen from the treatment Chloe gave you, as well as witnessing her expert blow-job so close up.
We turn down a narrow alleyway, where it is extremely dark, and I stop you, to press you back against the wall. You can already feel my cock pressing urgently against you, and you stroke me through the fabric of my trousers.
You look at me and giggle, saying, “You mean here, Simon? Right here and now? “
I do, and drop to my knees in front of you to reach up under your skirts and pull down your wet panties. You put your hands on my shoulders and step out of them; I stand up, toss your panties aside and unbutton my flies. You groan as you grasp my hard cock again and pull it out towards you.
The alleyway is dark and no one is in sight. I press you against the rough brick wall behind you and reach down to lift your thighs up and around my hips, while you support yourself on my shoulders. With a little manoeuvring, I slide my cock deep into your open wet pussy and you gasp with the sensation of such deep penetration.
You are partly supported on the base of my cock, partly by my hands under your thighs, partly by your legs encircling my hips and partly by your arms on my shoulders. It is difficult to thrust in and out deeply, but we gyrate against each other in a very animal way; I am fully embedded inside you and the pressure of every movement on your clit is enough to bring you quickly towards orgasm.
The public situation adds to your excitement, I think, and the rough rasping of the brickwork against your back adds a delicious element of pain to the pleasure you feel. It becomes more and more intense as our movements gather pace and we build towards our joint climax.
With two or three final thrusts, I cum inside you as you shiver and shake with the tremors of pleasure washing through your body, and you feel every pulse of cum throb through my cock into your twitching, fluttering pussy. We both shout and curse out loud as we cum.
No-one has appeared, though, and we can disengage carefully and compose ourselves again. We rearrange our clothes, but your panties are nowhere to be found. In my excitement, I must have thrown them further than I thought!
You are not concerned about going pantieless beneath your dress, except for the dangers of cum dribbling down the insides of your thighs, but in all honesty, you are beyond caring now. This is our final farewell to Paris, at least for today, and you have been thrilled with every second of the experience.
Now we need to hurry back to the Gare du Nord for our return train. We go through the security and other checks in something of a daze, thinking about the day we have had, but at least it distracts us from the tedium of modern travel processes.
Eventually, we board the train and find our allocated seats. We are tired now, but yet another bottle of champagne is presented to us with our meal, and it would seem churlish to refuse!
We eat and drink steadily as the train proceeds, and recover ourselves a little. The champagne is intoxicating, of course, but also reviving, and you are again acting in a devilishly teasing way, trying to excite and embarrass me in public.
As the train approaches the tunnel itself, you manoeuvre yourself alongside me, and your hand strokes my thigh. You take a mouthful of champagne, which is obviously having its usual effect on you, and pout at me. You know that the tunnel section does not take long to pass through, from our earlier passage.
I look you in the eye, and say, “Surely, not again, Sara!”
But you whisper, “Simon, I'd love to make you cum under the sea! I'm sure you can do it again, can't you? Chloe had a mouthful from you, but I didn't. If we time it right, perhaps I can make you cum while we're in the tunnel?”
“I probably can,” I say, “but there might not be so much this time! You say Chloe had a mouthful, and she did, but remember you've had a pussyful too, in Montmartre. I will be exhausted by the time we get home.”
“You know you love it,” you say, laughing. “This trip was your idea- and a fantastic one too! -but we have to make the very most of it, don't we. Let me get you ready for the tunnel. There's no-one nearby to see us.”
It is clear that you are determined, so I unbutton again, and pull out my slightly soft cock. You look down and say, “Mm mm, looks like we need to do something about that.”
So you take a mouthful of champagne and lower your head over my cock, trying to take it into your mouth without losing all the champagne. You largely succeed, though a fair amount dribbles down my hardening cock and drips from my balls. The cooling effect there is helpful, and I feel myself growing inside your mouth.
You keep your mouth tightly wrapped around me, and breathe gently and slowly through your nose. While you play with my balls with one hand, and hold the shaft of my now-hard cock with the other, you hold the head of my cock inside your mouth, just as Chloe had done.
I look down and say, “Hmm, you've learned a thing or two today!”
Your blue eyes meet mine and twinkle with delight as you swirl the fizzy champagne around the head of my cock. It is an enlivening experience, and a trick which I think Chloe would have approved. You swallow the champagne now, but immediately refill your mouth to repeat the trick; I wonder how much you will drink in this way.
I look down into your eyes and say, “Sara, you have given a new meaning to cocktails.”
This makes you laugh and you spill all the remaining champagne over me. You sit up alongside me and rest your head on my shoulder, but do not let go of my cock, which you stroke firmly now. The tunnel is announced now, and as we momentarily enter darkness, before the subdued lights come on, you begin to stroke me more urgently.
I put my head back while you use both hands to try to make me cum soon. I can feel that it will happen soon, as can you, and you reach for a champagne glass again. This time, you want to fill it with my cum, and you angle it over the head of my cock while you pump the shaft urgently.
I cum just before we emerge from the tunnel and full lighting is restored. No one has witnessed all this, and while I rearrange my clothes, you place your trophy glass on the table in front of me.
It is by no means full, but there is a generous serving of creamy white cum in the bottom of the glass. You reach for the last dregs of champagne in the bottle, and pour it into the glass, making a cloudy mixture with my cum.
Now you move to sit opposite me, and there is some movement of other passengers too, passing back and forth by us.
As we approach London, you raise the glass in a toast to me and say, “Simon, I have had the most wonderful day ever, and I hope you have too. This cocktail is in your honour, and I hope to drink many more! I should call it 'Simon's Cum Cocktail'.” With that, you swallow the entire glass in one great gulp and sit back in your seat, beaming happily at me.
When we disembark, you carry your (very light!) bag of lingerie as you stride along the platform, with your hips swaying exaggeratedly but happily. Your other hand holds mine and I am not unaware of the many envious glances in my direction from the other male travellers, who I think have mainly been to Paris for tedious business meetings.
We take a cab back to your hotel, and I join you in your room. It is a luxurious room, high up above London, and the view from the large windows is exciting. It is a cold night, and the lights sparkle in every direction, reflecting from the river and from the glass buildings all around.
It is not yet midnight. In the distance, we hear the chimes of Big Ben counting out eleven o'clock.
I ask if there is anything more you would like to do before the end of the day. You are still fizzing with excitement, and perhaps with champagne too.
You say, “Well, if you have any energy left, I'd love to be able to say that I've had sex with you in Paris and in London on the same day! Do you think that if I gave you a fashion parade of all the lingerie you bought for me, it might be exciting enough to raise some... interest?”
I laugh, and say, “Sara, little do you know how exciting you are to me... I will never be too tired for you!”
While I sit at the end of the bed, you swiftly strip off and unwrap your collection of undies from Paris. Any one of them would be a pleasure to see again, but you choose a superb satin set of a push-up bra for your already-large breasts and brief panties which are shaped to cling perfectly to every contour of your ass.
You strut up and down in front of me, full of the confidence that beautiful clothes can give, and act like a fashion model, pausing at each turn. Each time you pass me, you pause and give a subtle wiggle of your hips and breasts in my direction.
All this has the desired effect, of course. You stand in front of me and motion me to stand. Then you slowly and sensuously undress me, stroking your long fingers down my chest and across my belly, then up each thigh, and ultimately along the length of my erect cock, pausing to squeeze the head gently when you reach it.
You say, “Simon, it's time to fuck again- and this time I'd like you from behind. I know how deep you can get that way, and I want to feel every inch of you slide inside me now.” So saying, you turn to kneel on the end of the bed and look over your shoulder at me. “Fuck me now, Simon,” you say.
I approach your beautiful ass, clad in the tight silk panties, and press my cock against the smooth, cool material, forcing it between the cheeks of your ass. You moan slightly as I slide up and down the smooth slippery satin, but then I pull back.
Your shoulders sink slowly down to the bed, your head turns to one side, and your blue eyes focus on mine, while your ass is raised invitingly in front of me. I stand at the end of the bed and reach between your legs to grasp your panties, and roughly pull them to one side without removing them.
Now I can see your dripping wet pussy parting in front of me, alongside the satin of your panties.
I press my hard cock downwards, so that the head slips along between your outer pussy lips and is immediately coated in your juices. I slide it gently forwards until the head presses firmly against your clit, and you jolt with the electric shock of that touch. I move backwards and forwards, and you jolt again each time I reach your clit; it is getting harder and more prominent with every stroke.
Your inner pussy lips are starting to protrude now, and to part for me, so I slide my cock back and prepare to enter you. I spread your pussy wide with my fingers and can see the pink depths which I am about to plunge into. I position the head of my cock in readiness, locating the head in the entrance to your vagina, but not yet entering you.
I lean forwards over your back and say, “Sara, do you really want me to fuck you now?”
You shout out in exasperation and try to press back onto my cock, but I hold your ass away. I need you to say you want me, and when you realise there is no other way, you do say, ”Simon, PLEASE fuck me now! PLEASE!”
Immediately, I thrust hard into you, to the full depth possible, and slam my body against your soft ass, pressing against you as deeply as I can. You scream out loud at the shock. I stay there now, still and embedded deep inside you, while you squirm and wriggle against me, trying to create some movement, but I hold you still.
Now, I reach between your thighs and grasp both your wrists, pulling them as far back between your legs as I can. You cannot move at all now, especially when I move my legs outside yours and squeeze them together. You are completely helpless beneath me now, your head and shoulders on the bed, your arms and legs immobilised, and my cock buried deep inside you. I make it twitch inside you, and you moan as you feel the movement so deep up in you.
I say, “Sara, I am going to fuck you slowly now; we have until midnight. When Big Ben starts to chime midnight, I will fuck you to a conclusion. That will make sure you can say you were fucked in Paris and in London on the same day!”
You groan as I start to move slowly, relentlessly in and out of you, from the deepest depths to the point where my cock only just rests between your pussy lips. Then again, and again, and again; you feel every inch as it slowly slides into you and I twitch deep inside you, before you feel every inch slowly withdraw again.
You can hardly move, but your voice is loud, demanding again and again that I fuck you harder and faster. I resist, but I can feel that you are close to your first orgasm. Your ass is trembling more and more, and when I pull back I can feel, and see, your pussy lips fluttering around the head of my cock. As I continue, I start to feel your vagina walls trying to grip me, to pull me into you, and to hold me tightly there.
I give several more thrusts, until you finally unleash a massive orgasm, and your whole body shakes in spasms while you curse and shout out loud, squealing with every movement of my cock as I continue to move relentlessly in and out of you. As your shaking subsides, I stop moving, to allow you to recover, but my cock remains buried deep inside you.
I look across at the bedside clock to see that it is approaching midnight now, and I stay still, allowing you to recover a little more before the final push. I warn you that the chimes will start soon, and you groan; I release your wrists now, and position myself between your wide-open thighs. You have more freedom of movement now, and I have the great pleasure of watching my glistening shaft as it slides smoothly into you, between your swollen and dripping pussy lips.
In the distance, we hear the first chime of midnight from Big Ben and I thrust hard and deep into you again. The chimes are slow and regular, as are my thrusts, and we are both counting them, I think. You coordinate your own backward thrusts against me now, so that the joint clash is extremely forceful when we fully connect. The last few chimes are torture- we both want to fuck more quickly, but we have to keep pace with the slow chimes of Big Ben.
When the last chime sounds, you scream again, and I shout out too, as we slam against each other for the final time. You feel the spurts of cum throbbing up my cock and shooting up into you, filling you completely with the creamy white cum you have seen before, this very day.
We both freeze still, and cum gently leaks from your pussy when I gradually try to withdraw. Your vagina wants to hold on to me, gripping tightly, but I slowly slip out as we both collapse face down on the bed, and roll apart.
We lie side by side now, me naked, and you dressed only in your bra, and cum-stained panties.
We are both exhausted by our latest exertions, and from the day in Paris. We can only cuddle closely and drift off into a very deep and satisfied sleep, but before we do, you lift yourself on one elbow, stare into my eyes with a steely glint and draw back your tousled dark blonde hair.
“Simon,” you say, “that was the most wonderful gift you could ever give me. It was probably the most wonderful day of my entire life and I will never forget it!”
“You deserved every moment of it,” I say, “and don't doubt for a moment that I enjoyed it too! Perhaps we can visit Paris again one day?”
