Trouble in Paris.

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emilycurious
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Trouble in Paris.

Postby emilycurious » Mon Apr 16, 2018 4:04 pm

The weekend before I was flying to Paris, I was out walking even though the weather was shitty, I just needed to get a lap around the lake and some fresh air, and as I was close I popped in to Acme to grab a few things. Now I usually avoid it as Deb works there with her g/f and I just don't need that, and besides Acme is not cheap and it's kind of a depressing store.
Anyway, I managed to run in and out without bumping into anyone and was only home five minutes when the phone rang.
"Hi Emmy"
Now, no one ever calls me Emmy except her.
"Hello? It's me"
"Yes"
"It's Debbie"
"Yes"
"I'm coming round"
"What now?"
"Yes, I just saw you, and there's something I have to say to you"
"No, there's no need"
"I'll be there in five"
And I said "No really..." into a dead phone.
I was pacing when the door bell rang followed by a few raps of the knocker, which was sounding more like a police raid than a pleasant afternoon tea soire.
I opened the door and I instantly felt my heart in my mouth - she looked gorgeous, radiant, sexy.
"Hi Em"
"Hi Deb"
She pulled a bunch of yellow tulips from behing her back.
"Can I come in?"
We went through into the kitchen and I messed around putting the tulips in water.
"I just saw you" she said.
"Yes" I said thinking she meant in the store.
"You walked passed my place, I'm just behind you, a few blocks up closer to Cuthbert."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I've been there about two months, friends of Jackie A with a finished basement."
"The Stewarts?"
"Yes, of course you would know them. I have my own door" she said proudly.
She went on "I'm surprised we haven't bumped into each other before now"
"I don't go to Acme much"
"But I walk around the lakes all the time"
"I haven't had any dogs for a while"
"Em, I saw you, and it reminded me that I had said things that I shouldn't have"
"Deb, it doesn't matter"
"It matters to me. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I had to make my own mistakes to find out who I was, and the things I said were just not true, I was just very confused and upset."
"Debbie..."
"Em, just listen to me, just let me say my thing, I've rehearsed this in my head a million times and then let's see where we are. I'll make some tea, and we'll sit down, just give me five minutes Emily, it's not that you owe it to me, you don't, but be a friend to me and just listen and help me to move on. Please Emily"
"Okay"
--
We are sitting on either end of the couch, the same couch we had made love on many times, her head is swinging around the room taking in the changes "Em, you put up your own drawings"
"Yes"
"I always said..."
"Yes you did"
"Well, I'm glad you finally listened to me"
"Well, I am about to again Debbie, the floor is yours"
"Okay, so a little background. I live alone. You remember my boy friend, well we broke up some time ago. I know, I wasn't very nice to him, just stringing him along for the longest time, I think he was just a fall back, a connection to my other past. The girl I cheated on you with, it was never really a thing, just a mess of circumstances, we didn't last long, moving in with her was just me doubling down on my mistake to hide it. I briefly fell in love with a woman, but the circumstances were against us and she went back to her partner - another woman. Mostly I hang out with Crystal and Solange and their posse from Betty's, I know you know them and I like the notoriety I have from being one of your ex-lovers."
She moves across the couch and takes my hands.
"Emily, this is not coming out anything like I thought, and really there is only one thing to say, and I know you don't want to hear it, but I have to tell you or else I can never forgive myself."
"Debbie, I have nothing to forgive you for, it was me that hurt you, the only thing I have in my defence is that I never lied to you - I told you Rachel was the one, and I was deliberately indiscrete with my affairs..."
"I know, that's what I wanted to say too, I always knew it. But Em, it doesn't change this one thing."
She caresses my cheek. "I love you Emily. I'm in love with you. I want to make you happy, I'll do anything you want..."
I grab her hand. "Jesus, what is wrong with you Deb? I don't love you, I never did, I just loved the convenience of you, having you in my bed, cooking my food, cleaning my house."
"I can do that again"
"F*** no! You really must have a low opinion of me that I would want to use you like that"
"But I want you to"
"But I don't! - If you truly want what I want then don't be that! Be strong, stand up for yourself, tell me to F*** off! Really Deb I can't believe after all the time we spent together, this is what you think I would want."
"But I am thinking of myself - I was happy then, I want to be in love and happy, the way it was."
She grabs my hands and puts them either side of her face.
"I know you think I'm beautiful, and even if you won't see it, I know you loved me, loved me being here always for you. I know I'll never be Rachel..."
"Debbie, Rachel has nothing to do with this, Rachel and I are not together that way anymore..."
"Then let me take care of you!"
As I'm pulling her hands down "Deb, I don't want to be cruel to you, but if we are talking truth, the second you walked out that door I moved on."
There are tears in her eyes "You don't understand, I don't care, I love you!"
"Oh Deb, you deserve so much more than me, you need to be loved as fiercely as you love."
She looks down at my hands holding hers in her lap, her tears fall on my fingers.
"I'm glad I told you. I had to tell you. I had to know. We never spoke when I left and I know I said things behind your back that weren't true and I always regretted how I behaved then, I think I've matured a little. I know in my head, this turned out differently but I had to tell you how I felt. Emily, will you kiss me?"
"I can't Deb"
"Just once"
"You know I can't, I can't risk it."
"Because you love me?"
"Because you are everything anyone could ask for and I am so very weak."
"Just one kiss"
"Deb, Tuesday I fly to Paris to be with a woman I might be in love with, she makes me feel things and see things differently than anyone I've ever been with before. Anyone. You think I'm your chance for happiness, well, I think she's mine, and I'm not prepared to risk it because I already know I F*** things up really easily, just from a kiss. And I don't want to do it this time."
I stand up. "Deb, you should go"
And she rises she slips a kiss onto the corner of my mouth and for an instant I have that sense memory of her naked body lying on me when I wake in the morning and that frisson of a thrill that it always gave me as she wakes and her mouth seeks mine, and then I realize Debbie is kissing me, her hands are behind my head pulling me to her mouth, and stupidly, inevitably, I kiss her back and we fall back on the couch, she on top of me kissing my face all over, when I grab her shoulders and push her away "Debbie STOP!"
"You want me" she says back and arches to kiss me, my hand flies up and slaps her across the face, and instantly she beams a smile and crashes down on me her lips at my ear "you love me" and I grab her hair with both hands intending to pull her off but instead pull her to me.
--
She stands over me slowly getting dressed, her blouse is missing most of it's buttons, she looks ravished and ravishing. I am lying on the floor naked and sated, my little coffee table is turned on it's side. When she is dressed, she puts her foot on my belly "I'll pick you up from the airport" and then she is gone.
---
Brigette is holding a long paper sign with my name and huge red hearts, which flutters to the ground as we hug and kiss. I guess Paris is no different, people stare when women kiss each other passionately.
The taxi driver spends as much time looking in the review mirror as he does at where we are going, so I'm grateful we get there alive.
Brie lives on the fourth floor of a very old apartment building - no elevator - so we struggle up the huge curving staircase with my bag. At the door, she kisses me like I'm leaving for war and says "Just remember, I love you" and opens the door. I hear french chattering for an instant and then quiet as we enter a large living room with five women looking at us. Brie makes quick introductions all round, I don't catch a single name, and just as quickly she ushers me out through a hallway explaining "nous devons déballer" which makes me laugh and I ask "did you just tell them you were going to ball me?" she leads me into her bedroom, she slams the door, throws me on the bed and says "yes".
A few hours later I try to find the kitchen and find two of the women watching tv, and they cheerful say hello, and they ask about the flight and what I do and then the comment "we didn't know you and Brie were such close friends" and it dawns on me that Brie is not out!
In her room I say "When we are together, I cannot choose when I will kiss you, it can happen anywhere at anytime, are you ready for that?"
"Yes please. Emily I haven't told anyone, but I'm not hiding either, kiss me often."
--
I've been to Paris twice before, and frankly I didn't find it that great - they certainly have wonderful art, buildings, food, scenery, etc but the French are a little prickly about foreigners (or is that just the English?) and I never had the great experiences there that I had hope for. I always preferred Florence or Kos.
But with Brie, who has many many friends (mostly in fashion, which is a very incestuous industry especially in Paris, where everyone hangs out with everyone else, even if they are considered rivals) I really got exposed to another side of Paris. We went to clubs down dark narrow alleyways that had no signs outside, we ate at 1am in amazing cafes and restaurants off the tourist trails, and even though the French idea of pop music seems dated, they had some sick dance clubs.
The revelation that Brie has a girlfriend seems to excite everyone, and many people want to tell me stories about how they were always trying to set her up with different guys and how they could never work out why none of them worked out.
I'm more surprised by how few people are gay! This is fashion, isn't everyone gay?
But it seems that identifying as gay is, refreshingly, just not a big deal there, but nevertheless Brie and I do seem to be somewhat of a curious circus act.
A couple of days into my stay there are soft knocks on the door one morning - opening the door three faces are looking in and one says "we were worried you had exhausted yourselves to death" so we promised to keep the love making more circumspect.
--
Of course, when things are too perfect, I always find a way to F*** things up. Needless to say, I never plan these things.
Even though Brie was official on holiday, she was called in to work a few times to manage "emergencies" and on such occasions I'd tootle off and do very touristy things.
I was in the Orsay looking at photography, I was intently studying the Twin Sisters when a voice next to me said "Are you a twin?" and I turned to see a strikingly beautiful girl with dark auburn hair streaming down her back and shockingly bright rings of blue around huge pupils. I was absolutely at a loss for words.
She stepped into the silence "I'm not sure why but twins fascinate me. I'm not one, I don't even have sibs."
I wasn't sure if the accent was Australian or not, it wasn't that broad caricature, but there was something.
I managed to drag my gaze away from her eyes only to see her gorgeous full lips.
She didn't seem to have any makeup on, but she looked flawless, a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
"You are just gorgeous" came out of my mouth, and a slight pinkness flushed across her cheeks.
"You were lost in that photo"
"I was curious about how they were holding hands"
"Not like sisters?"
"Where are you from?"
"Christchurch, well just outside."
"Ah, a Kiwi"
"A blend of Scot, Irish, Welsh and Maori"
"A fabulous combination"
"Are you flirting with me?"
"I'm making love to you"
Her left hand snapped up and covered her gasp and I noticed the ring.
"Are you married?"
She looked around and then stared off into the direction of a young man with a day pack on his back.
"Jesus, how old are you?"
"18"
I said "F***" under my breath and then "Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of the Musée d'Orsay"
"Are you leaving?"
"I think I've made enough of a fool of myself for one day, don't you?"
"I liked it" she said "I liked what you said and how you said it, it was like you said it inside my head. What's your name?"
I said, and she told me she was Kristine with a K, and that all of them called her Krissy.
"All of them?" I asked, I thought it was a strange way to say it.
She looked down and back toward where the young man had been.
She pulled out her phone and type in my name then gave it to me.
When I handed it back she asked "Are you with someone?"
I said I was.
She asked "Another woman?"
I said yes, which of course slapped me back into reality.
I held her hand "Look Kristine, don't call me, you should delete that, I made a mistake giving you my number."
I let her hand go and turned and walked away.
--
The next morning when I was in the shower, my phone rang.
I didn't recognize the number of course, but stupidly I answered, all she said was "I have the whole morning to myself. Where are you?"
Before I'd even thought it I said "Rue Ganneron over looking the cemetery"
"Okay, yes, meet me at 9 at the very north point of the cemetery where Gammeron meets Etex. Wear something warm" and the connection was broken.
Of course it was impossible, I already had a day planned with Brie, and then at breakfast, her phone rang and she rolled her eyes and looked at me and gestured with her hand that she was sorry, as she said into the phone she would be there soon.
--
I waited there for ten minutes watching people stream across the four way intersection and hardly paid much attention to the little motor bike that pulled up in front of me till I saw her hair cascading out from the helmet. She walked up to me holding out a helmet for me. I shook my head in disbelief, but put it on.
When I got on behind her she'd pulled my arms around her and then squeezed them together, like I needed to be told to hold on tight.
I admit, I had my eyes closed a lot of the time, or I just looked directly to the side and watched the buildings and then trees whizz by.
When we stopped I had no idea where we were, if it was even still Paris.
I got off, and when she did, she popped open the seat and there was a little thermal bag, and grey-green blanket and a long thick chain. She looped the chain through the wheels and once over the seat then through the two helmets then threaded the chain through a metal fence, locked it up and grabbed my hand.
We walked through the trees and then suddenly there was a large expanse of green grass. The sun was trying to come out but hadn't quite made it through the clouds yet. A little way off there were three trees alone together and she made straight for them, and then when we got there right in between them she spread out the blanket.
She sat down and patted the blanket.
We hadn't said a word to each other yet.
"Don't be frightened of me."
I gave her a smile and sat down.
"You know nothing good is going to come out of this right?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Look, you don't know me, but I know me, and I'm not here out of the goodness of my heart - if I had one."
She laughed at me "Are you always so serious?"
"I'm very rarely serious which is actually a fatal flaw"
"So why are you here?"
"I'm a collector, I collect beautiful things, and you truly are a very beautiful"
"Like the Orsay?"
"Similar, but most collections are of dead things, or inanimate things, not alive"
"There are zoos"
"I'm no zoo keeper, I don't look after my collection - I don't feed or nurture them. It's the act of collecting that interests me."
"Is it a big collection?"
"Yes."
"Do they all end up pinned and mounted?"
"Some have escaped, but rarely."
"So why me?"
"I think I should be asking you that question."
"Haven't you ever met someone that you thought will change your life, even if you think it won't be for the best, but you hope that it will anyway, and you just can't help yourself?"
"Is that why you got married?"
"Yes."
"And it didn't work out?"
"Oh gosh no, we didn't marry for that." She shrieks with laughter. "It's a marriage of convenience!! He's gay, I think I'm gay, we married to get out, to get away, we were friends just the two of us for most of our lives. He's a nice guy, he actually respects me and we talk about everything, he's very smart. It's just that 24/7 with the same person is not for everyone, and now that we are even more alone together in a foreign country, I've realized just how much he is like everyone we were escaping from."
I lay down, just as the sun pushes through and the leaves sparkle with sunlight above me.
She leans over me and as her hair brushes across my cheek she asks "Now will you kiss me?"
--
"Does that mean I've been added to your collection?"
"And catalogued"
She is lying naked on her side facing me, I'm not sure these trees are much camouflage but we haven't seen anyone else the whole time we've been here. The sun is now streaming through and the shadows of the leaves chase each other all over her skin.
"Was it very obvious that no one had collected me before?"
"Not in a bad way."
"I won't see you again will I?"
I kiss her on the mouth "We'll always have Paris."
"Oh gosh, that's from a movie right? Did you enjoy me very much?"
"I did, and I think we still have another hour."
"Oh gosh."
--
As I climb the stairs I relive her movements, the soft utterances, the patina of sweet on her skin, the blanket fluff and blades of grass that stick to her, the thrilling taste of her.
I stumble in drunk on her essence and absent mindedly make the mistake of lying down on the bed, the girl imprinted on every part of me, and doze off.
--
Although I am asleep the sting of the slap across my face is no less jarring and I wake to see Brie in tears standing over me, alternately holding her face or raining more blows on me. I grab her hands to stop her. She pulls away and runs to a corner of the room.
As I sit up as she screams "Take a shower, you stink of sex."
Then she runs at me, her hands at my throat "Was it someone here? Someone I know?"
"No Brie."
I don't even apologize.
"I'll pack" I say.
"Don't"
"Don't what?"
"Don't go."
"Brie, I'm no good, I know it, I can't promise you anything but more tears."
"I loved you!"
"I know"
"Why?"
I stand and take her in my arms. "I don't know."
She starts to undress me, I catch her hands. She shakes me off "You need to take a shower, we have a dinner party to go to." She strips me naked, and then leads me down the hall to the bathroom. She turns on the shower, tests the temperature of the water, then urges me in, rubs soap into a cloth and starts to wash me. She's crying again, I pull her in and kiss her.
"What I do doesn't change how I feel about you. I can tell you everything or nothing, or whatever you need to know but I won't ever make promises to you I can't keep, I will never lie to you. If that is not enough for you then you need to be as honest with me and let me know whether you can live that way. I will never go out of my way to hurt you, but you can't ask the devil to be a saint. I'm just not built that way."
She's kissing me through tears and streaming water.
"I know" she says "I knew all about you, before I ever met you."
I take a step back and hold her away from me "What you are talking about?"
"Emily, it was no accident that I met you, I've know about you for a long time."
She turns off the shower and smiles at me. "Don't look so frightened" and suddenly I see a girl on a blanket, patting it, saying the same thing and I'm thinking what kind of messed up S*** is this?
"We need to talk" she says pulling me out, rubbing me down with a towel.
"Wait, did you set this whole thing up?"
"What thing?"
"Me and Kristine, today?"
"No, I have no idea who that is or what you are talking about, please Em, don't worry, I'll explain everything, just come with me please."
She leads me to her room, she pulls back the bed covers and says "get in" as she starts to get out of her wet clothes "we need to talk and everything with you is so much better in bed."
--
"You were in Toronto seven years ago."
I felt it was more of a question than a statement so said "Yes I was"
"You met someone there, at a kids party"
"Jesus Christ Brie what the F*** is going on?"
"Well, did you?"
"Yes"
--
My brother was working there and on the spur of the moment I drove up to see him. It took me a couple of days, and I turned up unannounced just as he was leaving with his then g/f for a kids birthday party. He said he couldn't not go, so I ended up going too.
The noise in that place was deafening, I guess there were several birthday parties going on at the same time, and when we arrived it was tough getting through those already there to get to our reserved table - I was gyrating back and forth around chairs and people, when I got that feeling that someone was looking at me, I turned and looked straight at this woman staring at me. There was a tiny smile as though she was relieved she'd caught my attention, and then just as quickly she looked around at the faces at her table, and seeing no one was noticing, lifted her hand and rippled her fingers in the smallest wave. Totally involuntarily I raised my hand and waved too. Did she know me? Who was she?
As we took our seats I ended up with my back to her. Later, Jack's g/f (I've forgotten her name, he has so many) leans across the table and whispers "you're friend is trying to signal you." I swing around and end up looking straight into the face of the guy sitting next to the woman I was intending to make contact with. He scowls and turns to the woman and says something and she gives a shake of her head in frustration.
A little later still, Jack's g/f leans across and says she thinks it better if we just swap seats, so as we both get up I look back, and the woman looks instantly concerned and I think she thinks we are leaving, so I shake my head to try to let her know we aren't. As Jack's g/f and I skirt around the table in opposite directions I can see relief spread across the woman's face.
She sits with her head in her hand but her thumb is in her ear and her little finger is at her lips - phone! She spreads the fingers of one hand across her face but with her thumb hidden - 4, then rubs one finger up against her nose - 1, then rests her head in both hands, fingers spread across her cheeks, but with thumb and forefinger hidden on both - 6. We go on like this till I have ten digits. It takes a while as the guy next to her seems suspicious and he keeps looking over at me but I'm fast enough to make it look as though I'm paying attention or talking to my table's guests.
I tap in the number, if I have one digit wrong, theres no way we'll be able to work out which one it is. I write "Do I know you?" and hit send, immediately I see her grab her phone, I see she is texting under the table "no, want to".
She looks a couple of years older than me, so back then, mid 30's - she has very dark brown hair, almost black, but it's lit up by the hellishly bright lights there so I can tell it's brown not black. It's a layered bob, she has thick hair, I wonder if she ever grew it long, it would have been like a mane. I don't know why I remember so much about her hair! Her eyes sparkle but I can't tell if they are blue or green, certainly not brown, it's so hard to tell, and then I notice the guy is staring right at me, he caught me, I was lost in a reverie, he stands towering over the woman, saying something to her, he puts his hands down on her shoulders and pushes her, then reaches under her arms to lift her up, other people on that table are standing, concerned about what's happening, I stand, my brother stands, I see the woman walk away from the table and puts a hand up to stop any one of us from approaching. The man is close behind her and they run out, the people on her table are looking over at us, and I make a weak hello hand wave and sit down, and my brother sits and says heatedly but quietly, "What the F*** are you up to now Emily?"
"But I don't know her" I say rather pathetically.
An hour later, we are still at this damn party and the lights and the noise are doing my head in, and no more texts, I can't wait any more and text "Are you okay?" and almost immediately "Yes don't worry" comes back, and then I'm thinking how do I know it's her, it could be the guy texting. Then I see one of the other women on that table get up and look around and when she sees the bathroom sign she starts making her way over there, I jump up and follow her.
Just as she enters I catch up and tap her on the shoulder, "I'm very sorry to bother you but what was that all about on your table?"
"Well you certainly are brazen"
"Look I don't know her, but I think she thought she knew me, is she from the UK?"
"No she's Canadien, do you know what that means?"
"French"
"Close enough"
"Do you know why she thought she knew me?"
"No, the first I knew of it was when her husband demanded she leave. He's the hot headed jealous type - wants to show her off but then panics when anyone pays her any attention."
"How long have they been married?"
"A long time honey, now if you don't mind I need to use the facilities"
I went back to the table, and typed "How do I know this is you" and again almost immediately, my phone rang.
Her voice was calm, cool, the merest hint of an accent, I was thinking who she sounded like as she was telling me her name and sorry about the incident, and would I like to meet her for a drink.
"Yes. Can you?"
"Of course."
"What about your husband?"
"I left him."
"You left him?" I said it a little too loud and everyone turned to look at me.
I looked at Jack "I'm sorry Jack, I have to go."
Outside it was delightfully cool and a slight breeze made me feel refreshed and unfuddled my head.
Her voice in my ear "Where are you, are you still there?"
"Yes I'm still here but outside, where are you?"
"Parkdale, I have a property here, I'll come get you. Thirty minutes or so, can you wait?"
"Yes"
"I'll call you back from the car"
We talked at she drove - he'd gotten her pregnant at 16, her first and only man, then more children followed, she wasn't sure why, except he was well off, the children were well cared for and she loved being a mother. She dabbled in realty just as a hobby, then started making her own money. She started flipping properties. Then one day she was showing a woman a house and she had an insane urge to kiss her, and more. She kept on showing her houses and the woman couldn't decide, this went on for a month or more. Then one day the woman rang her and said she knew it was inappropriate but would she like to go on a date. Pretty soon they were looking at different properties and making out there, unfortunately one had a nanny cam and in a pathetic attempt to black mail her, her husband got to see the whole show! He became unreasonably possessive and jealous of any contact with anyone, man or woman. Just to placate him, and to stop him divorcing her and threatening to take the children, she gave up her business. She said she had been "good" for five years, but every now and then she sees someone who has an unnatural pull on her heart, she just had the same reaction when she saw me, but couldn't stop it becoming more.
"I can see you" she said "I can't believe you waited, this is me pulling up now" she jumps out of the car and rushes over to me and we hug.
"I don't know where this is going, but I'm so glad you are here"
We lived together for just two years, she was killed in a train derailment in Quebec in July 2013, her name was Marie Beaucaire.
--
Brigette holds me tight "Beaucaire was her married name. Her maiden name was Soucy. Marie was my sister."
--
I couldn't stop crying.
I was never really "in love" with Marie, but I did love her, she was perfect, and I tried to love her or make her feel loved as best I could, I devoted myself to her, I felt she deserved all the love she could get, and she was the perfect partner in crime. Although she despaired at my infidelities she always knew I would come home to her. We fit together perfectly.
Brigette tried to comfort me by finally telling me the truth.
"She wrote to me about you, how wonderful you were, and also how wicked you were, but she loved you all the same. She knew you were a wild animal that couldn't be tamed, just admired, who would allow you to pet them if you fed them, but that really you couldn't be more. She wrote that she knew one day the feral in you would bite her, but she couldn't help herself, every moment with you was an elation. I wanted that Emily. Not you as such, but anyone that was like that, but they never crossed my path, so when in 2016 the opportunity came to work in our Philadelphia office, I took it. I found you easily, but I couldn't work out how to just meet you, I was too self conscious, too nervous. And then just at the end, I met Kathy, you know Kathy, she knew I was brimming with a secret and she coaxed it out of me. I had to wait a whole year to come back again, and this time they gave me two months, I was in heaven. Kathy and I concocted the Zoo thing, and you fell into our web, almost too easily. The Eagles win was just the icing on the top. And the rest, as they say, is history."
She's laying half on me her head nuzzled into my neck, an arm and a leg across me.
"I had watched you from afar many times on that first visit."
She laughs "I was equally appalled and impressed by who you stalked and how you caught them. But the names they called you, and yet they all wanted to be with you."
"When I saw you at the Zoo, even though I knew you well in secret, seeing you for the first time so close, I just knew I was going to give myself to you and I wasn't worried that it might all go wrong and I'd just look like a fool. I didn't care, I had to know."
She starts kissing my throat, then up over my cheek, my eye, then my mouth. We make love.
--
For the rest of the week, her love making is more forceful, more intense, more everything. She says we may not see each other again for months, maybe a year, or maybe never, she says she needs to cram as much of me as possible into her brain.
--
I insist that she doesn't come with me to the airport, she is still kissing me at the window of the cab as I tell the driver to go.
A little further down the road my chin is quivering uncontrollably, and then tears flood out, the driver says something in French and I say I'm okay, just drive.
I regain my composure as my phone pings. I think it must be Brie and click the message without reading who it's from, and it's Kristine. It says "I can't stop thinking about you. Every song I hear is about you, about us, then I heard a song on the radio and I thought they had stopped it too soon. I found it on youtube. It's 90 seconds! It's everything that happened - I romance you, you deflower me, you leave me, distilled into 90 seconds!"
I watch the screen waiting for more, it doesn't come.
--
Deb is at the airport. I cry into her shoulder.
She lifts my face and kisses the tears on my cheek.
When she kisses my mouth I pull her into me fiercely.
--
At home she fills a bath and brings me tea, and sits on the edge "Was it so very horrible?"
"Deb, you don't have to ask."
"Babe I don't mind either way, tell me everything, or tell me nothing, whatever makes you better quicker."
"I don't deserve you."
"Em, you are the luckiest person I know, you always land on your feet, no matter what height you throw yourself from"
She's laughing at me.
--
Debbie is lying across me. I feel the sweat and the sex sticking us together, we'll have nice red rashes when we separate.
While I'm pinned beneath her, I juggle my phone off the side table to check messages and emails, there's really nothing very exciting there.
As I close the email app my playlist is visible, and the next song is Wig by Seam. It's exactly 90 seconds long.

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kinghelfer
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Location: Norfolk in Chance....

Re: Trouble in Paris.

Postby kinghelfer » Thu Apr 19, 2018 1:24 pm

Reading that wore me out....
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The Quantum Clock. Tells The Time And Doesn't Tell The Time At The Same Time.
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emilycurious
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Posts: 1803
Joined: Wed Aug 09, 2017 2:11 pm

Re: Trouble in Paris.

Postby emilycurious » Thu Apr 19, 2018 8:52 pm

kinghelfer wrote:Reading that wore me out....

Thanks!
Part two is on it's way, it's even more exhausting, you'll love it.
“Men are afraid that women will laugh at them; women are afraid that men will kill them.” - Margaret Atwood


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