The French Apartment Ch. 07

The French Apartment - Chapter 7: Virgins

Seventh day in Paris, afternoon.

Fourth arrondissement (Le Marais).

"Wait, didn't you... ask me to meet you here?" I asked Vivienne. She only stared back at me with open-mouthed confusion.

I stood awkwardly beside the table as Vivienne's friends turned to me. The three boys stared at me with expressions ranging from mild curiosity to complete apathy. The blonde girl grinned wide.

"So this must be the famous James!" she said and held out the back of her hand to me to kiss. "I am Manon. Enchanté."

Manon was undeniably pretty. Perhaps, I thought, not quite as stunning as Vivienne, but Manon clearly paid far more attention to perfecting her own appearance and was much more confident in her results. I recognized Manon's type. She was used to thinking she was the prettiest one in the group and treated her role as if it was a royal position. I may not have been cool enough to be close friends with girls like Manon, but I knew my role in these situations: to play along.

"Enchanté," I replied in what I knew was an awful French accent and bent over to kiss the back of her hand. The boy next to her scoffed and ran a hand through his long hair.

Manon tapped a phone on the table, almost distractedly, as she examined me.

"Manon!" Vivienne yelled as recognition dawned in her voice. She swiped the phone, and Manon grinned as she let Vivienne take it. Vivienne unlocked it immediately. "I'm never giving you my phone again!"

Manon chuckled. "Aw, why not? Otherwise I'd never have met the boy. I mean if you're going to keep talking about him all the time-"

"Manon!" Vivienne's voice was a deep warning growl, but Manon only laughed in response.

"Why did you have Vivienne's phone?" I asked Manon.

"Because-"

"Because my mother would not stop texting me," Vivienne answered with an exaggerated eye roll. She huffed and scrolled through her messages. "Manon, what else did you send him?"

"Nothing," Manon said with a shrug. "What else do you think I would send him? Nudes?"

The boy beside Manon made some sort of dismissive comment in French.

Vivienne thrust a hand to me, palm open. "Phone," she demanded. I unlocked it and gave it to her, apparently to confirm I didn't have any Manon nudes on my phone.

"You two text a LOT, don't you?" Manon asked, grinning.

"God, shut UP!" Vivienne said, and returned my phone, satisfied.

They exchanged words in French. I didn't need to understand the words to tell that Vivienne's anger was bouncing harmlessly off Manon's impenetrable calm. The boys were chatting among themselves now, already bored with the two girls' exchange.

"Well nice to meet you all, maybe I'll join you next time?" I waved to the table and turned to leave.

"Where are you going? You just got here!" Manon said, offended.

"I think Vivienne just wants to be with her friends," I answered. I could tell Manon certainly did not approve of my answer.

I turned to Vivienne. "Have a good time with your buddies, and maybe we can talk later? Maybe we could grab a drink before you get back home?"

I turned to leave, but a hand grasped my wrist. I turned and Vivienne nodded to an empty table behind me.

"Get that chair."

I tried to prevent my face from revealing my immense relief.

The metal chair screeched on the stone as I pulled it over. Vivienne refilled her wine glass and placed it in front of me.

"Santé!" I said, raising the glass in salute.

Vivienne hid slightly behind her hand, amused and embarrassed. "Your accent James, my god..."

"Well who is he, then?" the boy next to Manon asked. He sounded less interested in knowing who I was and more interested in getting the introductions over with.

Vivienne presented me to the others.

"James, this is everyone," Vivienne introduced.

"Hey everyone," I said, waving.

"Everyone-" Vivienne's eyes narrowed, and I saw mischief behind them. "This is James: my mother's lover."

I'm sure my face must have gone beet red.

"Lucky boy," Manon said with a knowing grin and sipped her white wine.

I expected to hear gasps of shock and horror. I expected a barrage of questions, teasing, accusations. But none came. It certainly seemed like the boys gave little heed to the comment. Either they thought Vivienne was just making a silly joke, or they didn't care, or maybe in France this sort of thing was common... I had no idea. But Vivienne was greatly enjoying my embarrassment. And clearly the only one at the table who might know the truth was Manon, judging by her interested, knowing gaze.

A boy at the far end of the table stood slightly and extended his hand to me.

"I am Jean," he said, with a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you," I said, and took his hand. I was glad I didn't have to do the European cheek kissing ritual with all of them.

Next to Jean was a shy straw-haired boy named Henri. He kept close to Jean which gave me the impression that they were a couple. The long-haired boy next to Manon was Xavier, her boyfriend. He was undeniably handsome and knew it. He displayed an air of exaggerated nonchalance as he leaned back in his chair, as if he were trying to channel a young Marlon Brando.

Manon ordered two more bottles of wine and the group fell into chatting in French. I relaxed when I realized no one was going to actually ask me about Claudine. Vivienne would periodically lean over to translate their conversation, but it only really consisted of gossip. I would have had little to contribute to the conversation in any language. But I pretended to be interested because every time Vivienne leaned over to translate, her hand rested on my thigh. I didn't remember a word of what she actually said.

"So James, what do you eat? We are going out for dinner soon," Jean asked. It was the first time any of them had spoken in English since the introductions.

"You are going to eat more?" I asked, looking around at the table full of mostly finished plates of appetizers, bread, mushrooms, and olives. "Haven't you all been here all afternoon eating and drinking?"

"That was only lunch," Manon explained, as if that should be obvious.

"Ah. Well I like-"

"-anything with beef," Vivienne answered on my behalf. She patted me on the shoulder, like a cowboy patting his favorite horse.

"I am capable of eating other things too, actually," I countered.

"So you are saying you do not want a hamburger right now?" Vivienne asked, with an exaggerated eyebrow raise.

"Well I mean... I would still eat a hamburger," I admitted. "Do you have those here?"

"We do have McDonald's, yes," Xavier said, and made a scoff of disgust.

"I wasn't referring to fast food necessarily..." I mumbled.

"He also eats steak," Vivienne contributed.

"I can do either, sure-"

"You know," Manon swirled her white wine as she spoke to no one in particular. "I've always thought of steak and hamburgers as sort of... related foods. You know?"

"Related?" Jean asked. "Because both are beef?"

"Yes, think about it," Manon said as she swirled her wine. "Steak is more refined. Sophisticated. Hamburgers are made of the same thing, but they are more simple, yes? More approachable. As if... well, it is as if the steak is the mother, and hamburger like its daughter."

"Manon you are being ridiculous, as usual," Vivienne said.

"Wouldn't they be father and son?" Xavier leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "Beef seems like a manly food, not feminine? "

"But beef is from cows that are women. The bulls are men," Henri said, his only contribution in English so far.

"Ah, yes," Xavier agreed. "Then sure, like mother and daughter. What does it matter though?"

"Well, because I want to ask James," Manon turned to me as a smile widened across her face. "What do you prefer? Steak, or hamburger? Mother, or daughter?"

"Manon!" Vivienne scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What? I only want to know what we should eat for dinner!" Manon said: a picture of innocence.

Xavier shrugged. "Hamburgers are for poor Americans with no taste, or no money."

Manon burst into laughter and Vivienne was red with anger.

"No offense, my friend," Xavier said to me. I was sure he called me 'my friend' because he had already forgotten my name.

"What about a nice salad?" I suggested.

"Ugh, rabbit food," Xavier said dismissively.

"I could go for steak," Jean said, and Henri murmured his approval as well.

"Three votes for steak," Manon said confidently, as if it was decided. "James, that's alright with you, isn't it? I'm sure it is!"

Agreeing with Manon felt like I would be wronging Vivienne somehow, but I hardly wanted to demand that they all go to McDonald's on my account. I struggled for an answer that I felt would cause the least trouble.

"I mean sure," I began, slowly. "Vivienne introduced me to steak frites for the first time the other day, so maybe if she knows another place around here that's just as good-"

"Steak, then!" Manon announced with an excited clap. "Perhaps you have refined your tastes a little since coming to France, hm, James?"

"Good for you, friend," Xavier said, nodding approvingly at me and raising his glass of wine in salute to me. Apparently, graduating beyond hamburgers was a noble endeavor.

Vivienne scowled at Manon, but the boys paid no attention to it. Xavier took control of discussing the logistics of where to go for dinner, and Vivienne played no part in the conversation.

I felt like I needed to make my voice heard, but couldn't get a word in edgewise, so I banged my fist on the metal table. The plates jangled and both bottles of wine nearly toppled over. Waiters and patrons around us turned to stare at the commotion. Manon arched an eyebrow at me warily.

I held up a finger. "In defense of hamburgers-" I began.

"That is the most American statement I have ever heard," Xavier scoffed.

"McDonald's is not all hamburgers," I began quickly before anyone else could cut me off. I launched into a full-throated defense of the possibilities of what hamburgers could be, and explained that there were such things as exceptional, high-quality hamburgers, and that when these were done well, I could eat one every day.

"Every day? You would get fat," Jean said, a little horrified.

"It would be worth it," I explained.

A grin peeked out from the corners of Vivienne's mouth.

"Ah," Manon said, nodding sagely. "So James is the kind of boy who might like to eat a hamburger in the morning and then a steak in the evening? I thought so!" she winked.

Vivienne reached for a mushroom covered in red sauce and prepared to hurl it at Manon. I saw Manon's eyes widen in warning. If Vivienne actually threw it and stained Manon's pretty sky blue blouse, that might be crossing a line.

I put a hand on Vivienne's arm.

"You said you would show me the Marais," I suggested. "What if we let them eat their steak, and we'll go somewhere else for dinner?"

"Excellent idea," Manon replied, settling back in her chair but still eying the mushroom warily. "But come back to my place before we go dancing."

"Dancing?" I asked.

"James, will you'll join us?" Jean asked.

I looked to Vivienne, who gave me a nod and shrug as if to say 'why not?' Despite all Manon's teasing, apparently it hadn't actually upset any power dynamics between the group.

"Sure," I said. "If Vivienne wants to."

"Meet at my place at midnight and we will get ready," Manon said.

"Wow, that late?" I asked.

"The good clubs do not even open until midnight, but we don't want to be early," Manon explained, as if I should know that already. Manon leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Get her drunk or something, please, James? She's in a bit of a... mood today."

Vivienne looked ready to hurl the mushroom now for real, so I quickly picked it out of her hand and popped it into my mouth. Vivienne turned to me and huffed as she cleaned her hands on a napkin. She stood up and I saw she was a little wobbly on her feet. She must have been more drunk than I realized, but I suppose they had been drinking all afternoon.

"Are you alright?" I asked, helping her to her feet.

"Do you want to see the Marais or not?"

"Lead on," I said.

* * *

We strolled through the Marais as the last hour of daylight bathed the cobblestone streets a burnt pink-orange glow. Vivienne was lost in thought, and we walked in silence towards nowhere in particular. The clothing stores began closing for the day and the restaurants were filling up for dinner. I managed to sneak a text off to Claudine while Vivienne was lost in thought, just to let them know we were alright and wandering the Marais.

"What a strange neighborhood," I said, looking around. "Half of this neighborhood looks like it came straight from a hundred year old picture book... and here we have a Uniqlo."

"The Marais tries so hard to be cute," Vivienne said with a snicker as we strolled underneath an arch on the sidewalk covered in overwhelming amounts of pink flowers. The arch had no purpose I could tell, except perhaps to give people a background for Instagram photos.

"I mean, it definitely does, but still..." I gestured to an adorable little red painted corner café. Patrons were lounging just inside the large open windows, under an overhang of thick ivy that coated the upper floor. The little restaurant could have been the subject of a nineteenth century painting. Maybe it was. "Are you saying that is not cute?"

"Alright, sometimes it can be a little charming," Vivienne agreed reluctantly.

She looked different than usual. Softer and more... feminine, perhaps? I knew little about makeup, but I thought she might have been wearing more than usual. Then I realized she was wearing a long skirt that went down to her ankles. It flowed around her legs and picked up the occasional breeze, sometimes highlighting the curve of Vivienne's small butt. She also wore a white blouse with a lacy top that fit her body tightly, making it difficult for me to keep my eyes off her chest. It was as if she had grown up a few years in the day since leaving the apartment.

"Caught you again, James," she murmured as we walked.

"Caught me what?"

"Staring."

"Hey I was just looking at... alright yeah I was staring."

She snickered.

"I've just never seen you wear a skirt before," I said. Then, I remembered the argument in the apartment. "Wait, weren't you wearing your pajamas when you stormed out? Did you buy a new outfit for something?"

"It's all Manon's, I went right to her place after I left," she said, looking down and raising her arms wide, evaluating herself in the unfamiliar style. "Luckily we're almost the same size. What do you think?"

"I think... she's a little mean," I said.

Vivienne laughed. "She is just... Manon. I meant about the look. She thinks I am one of her projects and never misses an opportunity for a makeover."

"Oh! Well I think the skirt looks hot on you. Fun to see you in something different."

Vivienne looked horribly offended. "Oh, so you don't like how I normally look?!"

My eyes widened in panic. "No! I only meant-"

Her anger melted into a grin.

"You're teasing me," I said.

She snorted, and I let out a sigh relief.

"I can't help it, you're so easy." Vivienne looked down at the ground and I saw her grin widen a little. She spoke softly, just over a whisper. "And I did like your defense of hamburgers, by the way... even if it was completely absurd."

I gave her an exaggerated little bow and continued walking for a bit. Eventually, I looked around, wondering where we were.

"You know, so far I think this tour of the Marais needs some work," I said. "I don't think you've shown me a single thing."

Vivienne scoffed and looked around us. "Over there is a very old building. And... that's a park. And that's a tourist, and that's a bakery, and over there is... well probably a museum."

"Did you just point out a tourist?"

"Well no French person would wear such an ugly coat," she said with derision.

"Well, alright, but what kind of tour guide points out tourists, like they're sights to see?"

"The Vivienne tour, of course. You want your money back or something?"

"Alright what kind of museum is that?"

"Who knows?" Vivienne shrugged.

"Well... do you want to check it out?"

"Maybe next time," she said with more sincerity than I expected. "It would be nice to go to a museum where I am not on a school trip, actually. But it will be closing now anyway. And besides I'm getting hungry. So, I think the tour is over."

"Hm," I said, and looked down to see Vivienne's outstretched hand.

"What? No tip?" she asked.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I gave a hot girl a tip even if the service wasn't..." I stared warily as she raised an eyebrow at me in warning. "Well I have no cash, only a card," I finished.

I didn't want to reveal yet that the card was her mothers'.

She shrugged. "Alright, buy me something, then."

"Wow, I got such a pushy tour guide," I muttered.

She shoved me playfully and I looked around until I caught the tantalizing smell of bread in the air. The bakery behind us was nearly closed and their window display was mostly empty, but they still had a few pastries left and a few straggling customers inside. It smelled incredible, even from outside. "How about a pastry?"

Vivienne nodded her approval and pulled me into the store. She looked over the options hungrily.

"Have you had a canelé?" she asked. "I haven't had one since I was a girl."

"A can of what?"

Vivienne snorted and pointed to little dark helmet-shaped pastries. They looked cute, but compared to the other more elaborate looking delicacies, I probably wouldn't have picked one on my own. I paid, and tried to hide the card, but Vivienne caught it.

"Why do you have my mother's credit card?" she asked, her expression darkening.

"She was worried about you," I said. "I said I'd help make sure you were safe, and she gave me her card."

"Safe from what, exactly?"

I shrugged. "I think... well I think she's not a big fan of your friends."

Vivienne rolled her eyes and thought for a moment. She pointed to a wine store across the street. "Come on then, credit card boy. I'm in the mood for rosé."

I, or rather Claudine, bought us a bottle of rosé. Then we made our way to the bank of the Seine, which apparently was not far. The sun was setting in the distance, and the riverbank was filling up as people came to watch. We found a spot relatively secluded, but still able to see the sun drop over the buildings in the distance. Vivienne peeled a canelé slowly apart and held half up to my mouth. I opened my mouth and she shoved it hard and aggressive, putting her fingers briefly into my mouth. She ate her half and watched me struggle and recover.

The pastry had a sweet, caramelized exterior and a soft, eggy interior. Once I got over the shock her fingers shoving it at me, I began to enjoy it.

"These are really good," I said, "but why did you shove it at me?"

"For being a liar," she said as if it was nothing. "I didn't want you having too much fun."

"Why am I liar?"

"Because you made a promise to me that you had no intention to keep," she responded with a nonchalant shrug. "But it's alright. I suppose most boys are like that. I should probably get used to it."

I sighed deeply, and she looked back over the river. We both knew what she was referring to.

"I am still a virgin, technically" I mumbled. "I did want you to be my first. I still do..."

"Technically?" Vivienne's scoffed as she watched the sunset. "Are you denying you are my mother's lover?"

I sighed deeply and shook my head.

"I'm not denying it... I just haven't gone 'all the way' with her. That's all."

"Ah," Vivienne turned to me. "I know who you are, now!"

"You know who I am?"

"Yes! You must be the only straight man in the world who does not want to have sex with my mother!" Vivienne's eyes were narrowed and accusing as they glared at me.

I sighed. "I am telling the truth, but I understand if you don't believe me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Even if you are telling the truth... why even bother? Why not just..." she put up her fingers in air quotes. "'go all the way'?"

"Because I made a promise," I whispered.

"I did like you, James," she sighed. "Even if you are a liar."

Vivienne's eyes were red and wet, but she wasn't crying exactly. We watched the sun set over the Seine for a few minutes and I let Vivienne have the rest of the canelés. She handed me the empty pastry bag to take to the trash. I snuck a text to Claudine as I threw the bag away, just to let her know that everything was alright. I returned to Vivienne, who was still leaning on the railing.

"If I know my mother, she is not going to let you keep that promise for long," Vivienne said, finally.

"Probably not," I admitted. "She tries to hide it, but I think she hates that she has competition."

"Hah! My mother does not have competition when it comes to men," Vivienne said.

I turned to her. "Vivienne, do you have any idea how incredibly beautiful you are?"

Vivienne turned to me and her dark, wet eyes examined me, but she said nothing. The temperature was dropping and she began to shiver. I took off my jacket and put it around her shoulders. She began to protest but eventually she nodded and accepted it.

"The boy who likes steak and hamburgers..." she chuckled to herself and shook her head.

"I feel like I need to make all this it up to you somehow," I said.

"Oh I know where this is going," Vivienne said, nodding sagely, as if she had it all figured out.

"I don't even know where I was going," I said, confused.

"You're going to pretend to think for a while," Vivienne explained, and eyed me sideways "and then offer to finger me or something to make it all up to me, aren't you?"

"Hey!" I said. "I wasn't planning anything... but I mean, if that's what you need me to do, who am I to say no?"

Vivienne laughed loudly, more than I had seen her in a long time. She shook her head, and little strands of her short back hair dropped around her face. She twisted off the cap to the bottle of rosé and took a long gulp.

"You're so predictable, James," she said.

"Wait, I know!" I said. Vivienne turned and arched an eyebrow.

"Well I already have this from you," I showed her my phone with her picture as my background.

"Still kept that as your background, hm?" she asked.

"Always," I said.

"Pervert," she snorted.

To anyone else my background would have looked like nothing more than a black, blank screen. But I saw her take the picture: a close up picture of her vagina. And if I looked very closely, there was a little more detail in the blackness than there seemed at first glance.

"Here," I said, and opened the photo app. Vivienne gasped as I shoved my phone down my pants.

"James!" she said, covering her face in embarrassment and looking around.

"Eh, nobody's close," I said and snapped a picture. Vivienne hid her face behind her fingers as she looked at the result.

"Alright I can definitely see your balls," she said.

"I need to get the camera shoved closer in then, one sec," I said, and tried again.

"James!"

"Almost done," I said, and snapped another one.

I looked over the final result and nodded, satisfied. I texted her the black photo, and Vivienne sighed and shook her head.

"Well... thank you, I suppose," Vivienne said, shaking her head and smiling.

"You don't have to make it your phone background if you don't want to," I said. "But at least it's something to remember me by when I leave tomorrow."

"Alright- wait," she whirled at me and her smile disappeared. "Tomorrow? What?"

"Well I'll have to go back to America soon," I said with a shrug. "I assume tomorrow, but Claudine... well we haven't figured out the details."

Vivienne looked shocked. "America? You've only been here a week!"

I sighed. "Claudine said I can't stay in the apartment if you don't approve. And honestly she's right... it doesn't work. Not with the three of us."

I expected Vivienne to counter and say something, but she didn't. I could only sigh and shake my head. "I think I just made a mess out of all of this."

"Oh yes, James... yes you did," Vivienne agreed.

We drank until the sun had fully dropped below the left bank and the river turned from deep purple to black. Lights winked on around us as the city slid into nighttime. Finally, Vivienne spoke.

"Alright let's eat, I'm hungry."

"You want to eat dinner?" I asked, surprised.

"You would prefer to eat breakfast?" Vivienne responded.

"No, I just mean I'm just surprised you want to eat dinner together instead of like... drowning me in the Seine?"

"There is time for that later," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Come on, you'll like this. And it's not so expensive, so you won't get in trouble with my mother for abusing her card."

"Well so far I've had good luck by eating whatever you suggest," I said.

We returned to the heart of the Marais. Vivienne led us into a long line in a relatively nondescript street.

"Quite a line," I said. "What about the place across the street without a line?"

"Let me give you a piece of advice," Vivienne said, holding up her forefinger like a professor. "Do you see the people in this line? Obviously most are French, not tourists."

I looked over the line. I still wasn't sure how she told the difference with such confidence. But I nodded, as if I saw the same thing she did.

"Alright, so it's a line of French people?"

"Tourists stand in stupid lines all the time," Vivienne scoffed. "But French people? There are a million places to eat in Paris. If French people wait in a line: there is a reason."

It was good advice, I thought. But we were both ignoring the fact that I was about to leave Paris, and the advice would soon be moot.

"I'll remember that," I said.

Vivienne picked up my hands and held them around hers.

"Keep me warm," she said.

I didn't think it was particularly cold, but it was getting breezy and probably threatening rain. The line moved quickly, and I finally saw we were approaching a diner. There was a separate line of people waiting to eat inside. I finally got close enough to read the sign over the restaurant, and I recognized the word 'falafel.'

"What is this place? Falafels?" I asked.

"Sorry it's not beef," Vivienne said with a snicker.

"I've had falafels before. They're... fine, I guess."

"You haven't had any like this," she promised.

Vivienne ordered quickly in French and made me pay with Claudine's card. We didn't go inside, and I followed Vivienne around the corner, under a little stone arch. The entrance was so nondescript that at first I thought we were entering someone's private backyard, but then I realized it was actually a little public park, surrounded by apartment buildings. We sat on a bench and unpacked our bag of food.

I dug into the gigantic pita sandwich, and opened my eyes wide as I bit in.

"You weren't wrong," I said, biting again. The mixture of crispy fried falafel mixed with the pickled vegetables and tangy sauces was heavenly. "I've never had a falafel like this."

"Told you."

We chatted and devoured the food and our bottle of wine. We still had a few hours before the club would even open, so rather than take a cab we agreed to walk. Manon was staying in what was, apparently, her parents' second or third property: a little apartment on something called the island 'Saint-Louis', in the middle of the Seine.

"You have an odd relationship with Manon," I said.

Vivienne shrugged. "I've known her since we were girls. We almost had to be friends, considering our parents."

"What do your parents have to do with it?"

"Manon's mother is also on the board of the French Academy," Manon explained.

"Ah, a friend of Claudine's?"

Vivienne laughed a harsh, cold laugh. "Manon's mother is not one of my mother's favorites. But all those women are friends and enemies at the same time. Still, there were not many other girls my age in that group. Manon likes to be the queen but she is okay."

I tried to pry into this world of wealth and exclusivity that Claudine moved within, but I got little detail. Vivienne didn't seem to want to discuss it; I got the sense the conversation was veering too close to her mother.

Vivienne handed me the wine bottle and as I got more buzzed it was harder and harder to take my eyes off her body: at her tight blouse, the skirt whipping around her thin legs in the wind, and the long curve of her neck. We were crossing the bridge leading towards the island when the raindrops began.

"Want to call a cab?" I asked.

"It's not too far," Vivienne said and grinned a wide, victorious grin as she held my jacket close around her shoulders. "And besides, I'm quite comfortable."

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying my jacket," I said and shivered.

Vivienne smirked. "Well it's only appropriate behavior for a manserv-" She paused mid-word and we both kept walking slowly over the bridge. Her voice dropped low. "I guess you can't be that anymore?"

"I suppose so," I sighed. "I will miss being your manservant, though."

"Me too," she whispered, and then smiled to herself. "Even though there was one responsibility you did not perform."

"Oh there was?" I raised an eyebrow and brushed wet hair from my face.

Vivienne leaned close to me and tapped her fingers on my mouth. "You said you would use this, but you never did. Any good manservant should know it is part of the job."

"Ah," I nodded. "Well maybe for your next manservant, you could write down the list of job responsibilities?"

"Good idea," she agreed.

My voice lowered. "I did want to, for the record. I guess we just never... had the right moment."

"Liar," Vivienne whispered, but there was no malice in her voice. She turned to me and began to take the jacket off. "Alright, do you want your jacket back, then?"

I shook my head, though I was shivering and the rain was falling heavier now. "Keep it."

Vivienne smiled. "Well, then the least I can do is help keep you warm."

"I'll accept that," I agreed.

Vivienne leaned into me and her hand slid under my shirt and behind my back. I returned the gesture, sliding my arms under the jacket and holding her by the midriff. Vivienne's hand kept moving and caressing my back as we reached the end of the bridge. We turned right into a street that ringed the edge of the little island.

"You shouldn't leave," she whispered.

"But you and Claudine-"

"I should leave," she said.

"You?" I looked down at her.

"I envy you, you know," Vivienne said with a sigh. "You got to go to another country, see the world... my mother nearly had a heart attack when I wanted to take a year off school. But I can't convince her to put me in my own place. I tried to move out last year, but she wouldn't let me."

"You know since I've arrived here, there's one thing I've figured out about your mother," I said.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. Her hand was still caressing my lower back as the rain pelted us.

"Well, I've learned that Claudine can be a little controlling sometimes," I said.

Vivienne's head rocked backwards and she laughed, loud and unrestrained. Her hand dropped and she gripped my ass.

"Yes, and maybe you also learned the sun is hot and rain is wet?" she said. She grinned and jiggled my butt playfully.

I smiled as her fingers gripped my ass, and I debated what to do. But then an idea struck me about her Claudine problem.

"Just tell her you won't quit school," I suggested. "Say that you'll stay in school only if she agrees to pay for your own place."

"Huh..." she thought.

"The trick is to give Claudine what she really wants," I said confidently. "And she wants you to stay in school."

"That... and your big cock," Vivienne said, snorting. My face went red but she was amused instead of angry.

"It's not a bad idea," Vivienne said with a shrug finally. "Maybe somewhere in the Right Bank? I think my mother and I would get along better with a river between us."

We began walking towards the edge of this little island. The stone buildings here looked older than most of the rest of the city, almost medieval. The island was small and sparsely populated, and everything beyond ten feet was blurred by the rain. It began to feel like we were the last people remaining in the city. Both of our hands began wandering a little more as we strolled.

"This is a very pretty walk in the daytime, when it's not raining," Vivienne said.

"It's pretty now," I said.

Her fingers wiggled, sliding under my boxers to grab my ass.

"Vivienne," I hesitated, and her fingers froze as they gripped my buttocks.

"What?" Her fingers squeezed harder, testing me.

"It's just..." I sighed deeply and struggled with the thought. "It's just that I'm not your manservant, or your boyfriend, or anything."

She removed her hand from my ass, and I regretted what I said instantly.

"Do you want to go back home?" she whispered.

"Home?"

"I mean to my mother's. Not back to America."

I shook my head and continued to hold her. "I think I just want to stay in the rain a little longer, with you. Sorry, I'm just... confused, I guess."

"Alright," she agreed, warily. "But can you be confused and still keep me warm?"

"I can do that," I agreed, and held her close as we walked to the edge of the island. But her hands were not as willing to explore my body as they were a moment ago.

The rain came down harder and began completely soaking both of us. Vivienne cursed, as her jacket was no longer able to protect her from the downpour.

"Alright, time to head to Manon's, it's over here-" she began, but I grabbed her wrist. My mind was still figuring out what I wanted to do, but I knew that I didn't want my time with her alone to end quite yet.

"Come on, we'll be warmer under a tree!" I said. I saw my destination: a little park on the edge of the island, just in front of us.

"Are you crazy?" she asked.

"Maybe!" I said and led her towards the park.

I settled us underneath the largest tree, and its low branches provided some measure of shelter from the outside world. The tree's branches and the roaring wall of rain outside made it feel like we had walked into our own little private world. Even under the tree we were still being rained on, but at least the downpour was reduced to merely an aggressive drizzle.

Our bodies huddled into each other for warmth under the tree. I felt Vivienne's hands move under my shirt, and my hands began moving over her clothes. She looked up at me as I held her, and in a moment our mouths found each other.

Rainwater drenched our hair and faces as our tongues curled and wrestled. Vivienne's mouth was a little warm haven from the rain, and my tongue happily explored it. She grabbed my hand as we made out under the tree and pulled it underneath her blouse. My fingers found the bottom of her bra.

"You really are different since you let Manon give you a makeover, huh?" I asked.

"Different?" she asked. "How?"

"Well, you never wear a bra," I said.

Vivienne looked down at herself and snickered. "Well Manon's bra is a size too small for me, anyway. It was starting to hurt."

She straightened her back and pushed her chest out as she undid her bra from behind. She somehow managed to pull the bra out of her blouse, and then she dropped it to the ground like it was a piece of trash. I stared in awe as her lacy white rain-drenched blouse almost completely disappeared over her incredible rack.

"Does this make you feel more comfortable?" she whispered.

"It does."

I ran my fingers over her little nipples poking tiny nubs in the wet fabric, causing her to suck in her breath. Once I could tell how sensitive her nipples were to my touch, I pulled up her blouse, exposing her wet, perfect breasts. I bent down and began sucking on one nipple then the other, earning little yelps and gasps from her as my hands and mouth moved from one to the other.

As I kissed her breasts, Vivienne reached down. "This part of you doesn't seem so... confused," she whispered as her hand brushed over my erection pressing desperately against my wet jeans.

She backed up a step, in front of the tree trunk. She didn't bother to drop her shirt back over her chest. I stared in awe, trying to imprint the image in my brain. Rain dripped over Vivienne's face, down her neck and chest. Half of her face was covered with strands of wet black hair as she watched me ogle her. I crashed into her impatiently, pressing her back against the trunk of the tree. The bulge of my dick pressed between her legs and she released a low moan.

We kissed aggressively, as if we were in a contest to see who could overpower the other. Our hands and mouths explored each other's wet bodies. Her head lolled back, offering her long neck. I kissed up the side of her neck and tasted the rain mixed with her sweat. Our hands searched each other: caressing, scratching, groping.

I slid a hand underneath her skirt and found her panties. My fingers pressed into the soft mound covered by cotton, circling her clit. Her body undulated with the rhythm of my fingers. I slid my hand underneath her panties and over the slit of her pussy. She moaned as I entered her briefly, and my fingers were quickly covered in a wetness that was warmer and stickier than the rain.

"What if..." I began.

Vivienne brushed the rain-soaked hair out of her eyes.

"What if it's my last day as your manservant?" I offered. "I don't know what happens tomorrow, but I can be that, tonight. If you want me to."

Vivienne stared at me a moment as she leaned back against the trunk. The tree trunk shielded her from the island behind, and behind me, the Seine stretched out in all directions, blurred by the rain.

She reached under her skirt, pulled down her panties, and dropped them beside her discarded bra. She leaned back as she pulled her long skirt up a few inches.

"Well then get down there and do your job, manservant," she commanded.

I wasted no time and ducked between her legs. My world now only consisted of the space inside Vivienne's skirt. I pushed her legs apart and she yelped as her hips dropped onto me, filling my world with the smell of sex. I slid my hands under her bare ass and kissed her inner thighs. I was enjoying taking my time moving from one soft, wet thigh to the other. She gasped every time my mouth brushed over the burning hot mound between her legs, but I kept moving my mouth past it, and licked up her thighs, just on the edge.

Suddenly, I felt her fingers gripping the back of my wet hair.

"Stop teasing," she demanded, and yanked my face into her.

My mouth curled around her clit, and I sucked. Vivienne moaned and I sucked longer, her moans to turned to curses. I sped up my tongue and her curses dissolved into English-French nonsense. I alternated between lapping my tongue up the lips of her pussy and covering her clit with the warmth of my mouth. Just as I felt her body begin to shake, I slid a finger inside her while I sucked, just as Francesca taught me. Vivienne gasped and I sucked her clit fully into my mouth, as if I was claiming complete ownership over it.

Vivienne's nonsense screeches gave way to a groaning release. It sounded as if she were letting go of a year's buildup of tension. Her limbs went limp as she soaked my mouth. I thought about how to describe what Vivienne's cum tasted like: no actual words worked, but I decided that 'spicy sweet sex' was the closest I could articulate in my head. When her orgasm passed, she collapsed and sunk to the ground. But I didn't let up and dropped with her. I pulled up her skirt again.

"James," she gasped. "I already came... I already.... James!"

Vivienne stopped bothering to protest and sat back against the tree, letting her body receive without resistance. More English-French nonsense tumbled from her mouth until her mumbles turned into light moans while my tongue lapped the slow but steady flow of juice from her. Her body shuddered lighter and lighter until finally she pulled me up, out of her skirt, so I stood in front of her.

"You want me to stop?" I asked, wiping her juice from my mouth. "I can go for longer."

"Such a good boy," she said with a grin. "But I want to taste my manservant now."

Vivienne undid my belt and unzipped my fly. She yanked my muddied jeans to the ground, and then my underwear. My cock sprung forward, slick with rainwater, as I stood in front of her. She slid her hand up and down my wet shaft and laid her head back against the tree.

"Get inside, where it's warm," she whispered and opened her mouth wide.

"Vivienne, I want to fuck you so goddamn badly," I said in a low groan, hoarse and desperate.

She stared up at me and met my eyes as she held my cock.

Voices came from the distance. We both paused, and realized they were quickly growing louder and closer.

"Merde!" Vivienne cursed and pulled up my pants. Vivienne threw my coat over her chest and I was just barely decent before the crowd of laughing tourists- all prepared with umbrellas- came around the corner and into view of the park. We scrambled and left, and the tourists glanced over at us with horror, as if we were some sort of horrid rain monsters.

We stumbled through the wet cobblestone streets, trying not to fall. It was the slowest three blocks I had ever walked. Vivienne leaned on me for support: her legs were only barely operational. She had left her underwear by the tree and her clothes were soaked. It was a struggle to both hold her up and grope her at the same time. She kept poking my hard-on as we walked, sending shudders through my legs and causing me to nearly drop her more than once.

We reached the apartment finally, and Vivienne slapped the doorbell awkwardly, as if she barely remembered how to move her limbs. I reluctantly pulled my hands out from underneath her shirt before Manon opened the door.

Manon's face displayed her horror as she looked us over.

"What happened to you two?!" Manon asked.

We must have looked completely ridiculous. We were both soaked head to toe, and I was covered in mud from the waist down. Vivienne's hair was as insane as I had ever seen it and we both kept stumbling into each other.

"James was taking care of his job responsibilities!" Vivienne said, laughing uproariously.

Manon looked almost scared as she opened the door wide. "Whatever drugs you two found, I hope you brought enough for me."

* * *

I shivered and pulled the towel around me. My clothes were in the washing machine, and Manon lent me a pair of men's shorts and a T-shirt. I didn't ask questions as to whose they belonged to. Even though I was dry, I was still shivering, and I felt a scratching in the back of my throat. Vivienne and Manon had been getting ready for well over an hour, and the boys were ignoring me. But that was fine with me. My scratching turned to a cough, and I tried to suppress it.

I tried to text Claudine, but my phone was dead. I wondered what time it was... almost certainly after midnight.

Xavier, Jean, and Henri stopped drunkenly chatting and huddled over a glass table in the middle of the room. Henri was organizing the little lines of white powder.

"You want a line, James?" Jean asked, and I blinked and looked over. "In English is... cocaine, I think."

Xavier frowned at Jean, and they argued a bit in French. I assume Xavier didn't approve of sharing with me, but I was glad for Jean's friendliness.

I shook my head.

"You all go ahead," I said, and sank back into my chair.

"It will keep you awake," Henri added.

"Yes," Jean agreed. "You do look... rough?" Jean said. He seemed a little unsure of his English, but even more unsure of my condition.

I laughed and nodded. "Yeah that seems about the right way to describe it." I began coughing, as if agreeing with Jean's estimation.

"Who wants to daaance?" Manon announced as she made a grand entrance from the back rooms.

Manon looked impeccably put together from head to toe. She wore a tight, short black dress that hugged her thin body perfectly. Xavier held out his arms and gave her some sort of elaborate French compliment. Jean and Henri both complimented her as well and I'm sure I said something when she glanced in my direction for approval. She giggled as she bent over the glass table. I didn't bother trying to claim a share.

Then I heard the click of heels on wood again, and I turned to see Vivienne walking down the hallway. I could tell immediately from her body language that she didn't have Manon's effortless confidence, but she was trying to imitate it. Then my eyes focused on her outfit and my jaw dropped as if I was in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

"Your boyfriend is staring," Manon said with a proud smirk, as if Vivienne was her creation.

Vivienne dripped with sex. She was displaying her punky style again, but it was different, perhaps more... sophisticated. She wore high heeled black leather boots that came up high on her thigh. A short black skirt only barely covered her ass. I stared at her strip of bare thigh between the tops of her high boots and the bottom of her skirt. Her expensive looking black blouse was tightly fitted to her body and made her breasts look like they were ready to burst out at any moment. Her jet black hair bounced at every step as she strode towards me.

Vivienne did not make a grand announcement like Manon did, but the other boys still clicked their tongues and still did their share of hooting and hollering at Vivienne as she arrived. She perched, knees together, on the arm of my chair.

"You look..." I muttered and failed to find words. "Jesus Christ."

"I look like Jesus Christ?" she asked, teasing me as she absorbed my look of awe.

Manon waved over at Vivienne. "Hey hottie! Come do a line. We only have one left."

Vivienne hesitated and glanced at me, then back to Manon. She shook her head. "You can have it."

"Why don't you all finish it?" I suggested. "Vivienne and I have been drinking all day."

"So have we," Xavier contributed. "But I suppose you are above doing such things, I suppose? Still, you should let Vivienne have it."

"No I did cocaine once," I said with a shrug. "It was like having five coffees at the same time."

"Only once?" Xavier had a strange smile as he looked at the others, as if he had won something.

"Well, we don't do much coke back home because we aren't New York stockbrokers from the 1980s," I said it with as much as derision as I could muster.

Xavier looked mildly put off, and I got an actual laugh from Manon and a snort from Vivienne. Then Manon ignored me and started pressuring Vivienne again. Even though they spoke in French, Vivienne's discomfort was obvious.

"Well I suppose I do need to wake up," I said loudly to no one in particular.

I went to the glass table and before anyone could respond I grabbed the straw from Manon and quickly snorted the last line. My vision blurred and I began coughing again. I did, certainly, feel more awake.

Xavier was clearly cursing me and Jean chuckled. I returned to my chair and a grinning Vivienne.

"Well that was rude," Manon said but shrugged it away. "So are we ready to go or what?"

"Let's go," Jean said.

"I want to get in the mood first," Vivienne said. "Let's open another bottle."

"Good idea!" Manon agreed and commanded Xavier to open something.

"How late are we going be dancing?" I whispered to Vivienne.

She only smiled and pulled me to the record player. "Choose something to listen to."

"Me?" I asked.

"Why not?" she shrugged. "You know the music I like, but I don't know yours."

I hesitated. What did French college students like to dance to? I began to leaf through Manon's record collection. Luckily it was mostly American artists, and I recognized many of them. But I still felt like there were many bad or inappropriate choices. Clearly, Manon had a big boy band phase at one point, but I doubted that Backstreet Boys was the vibe in the room right now.

"I tend to listen to stuff that's a little more chill, but if you want like electronic dance music or something..." I hesitated.

"Chill is fine," Vivienne said. "We can save the oomph-oomph for the club."

"You're going to judge whatever I choose," I said.

"Yup!" she said, excited.

Well I knew her tastes were mostly moody singers from the 80s and 90s, so I tried to keep that in mind as I flicked through the records, but I also didn't want to pick something I knew she already had on repeat. I dismissed a few options until my fingers halted on one.

"I've been listening to her a lot lately..." I said, as my fingers halted over a section with a handful of Lana Del Rey records.

Manon peeked over to see what I chose. "I was so into Lana like... two years ago." I couldn't tell if that was approval or disapproval.

Xavier scoffed. "She has a nice voice, but her music is for smoking pot in California."

"Perfect," Vivienne grinned wide as she pulled 'Ultraviolence' out of its sheath and placed it on the record player. "And I know exactly which song."

The opening to 'Ultraviolence' flowed through the room, slow and meandering. I don't know if it was the cocaine in my system or the fancy sound system, but it sounded like I could hear every note sinking into my body. Vivienne turned up the volume about as high as it could go and Lana's breathy, languid voice overwhelmed the room. In the corner of my eye I saw Manon doing some kind of sexy dance in front of Xavier and Jean and Henri were lounging in the couch at the far end of the room.

Vivienne's arms wrapped around me softly and she rested her head in the crook of my neck.

"I have a present for you," she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow as Vivienne slowly licked her lips.

The music swelled and when Vivienne's wet lips brushed the side of my neck, I lost any conception of what anyone else in the room was doing.

'He hit me and it felt like a kiss...'

Vivienne began to suck my neck and I pulled her body into mine.

'Ultraviolence...'

Her sucking turned aggressive and I closed my eyes, relishing the pleasure tinged with pain.

'Ultraviolence...'

Vivienne took a deep breath through her nose and her suction took on vampire levels of assault.

'Ultraviolence...'

It felt as if Vivienne was trying to pull blood out of my veins of my neck through suction alone. My hands began caressing her. I ran a hand under her skirt, and when I brushed her bare ass I realized that she was not wearing panties. My hands grabbed the bare flesh of her ass and began to explore under her legs. Without panties, her wetness was dripping down her inner thighs. My fingers brushed against the soaking lips of her pussy. She groaned and shoved me backwards against the wall.

'Ultraviolence... 'Ultraviolence... 'Ultraviolence...

As Vivienne assaulted my neck her hips crashed into me, banging me against the wall over and over. She reached down and pulled my shirt off my head and dropped it on the floor beside her. This broke the seal between her lips and my neck, and she ran a finger over my neck where she had been ravaging it.

In the corner of my eye I saw Manon changing the record. Another Lana song filled the room, though one I wasn't familiar with. Manon turned to us and gasped.

"Vivienne, what did you do to him?" Manon asked as she stared at my neck. Xavier was busy kissing Manon's neck as Manon leaned over to us, and his hands were already underneath her dress.

"Just giving James the same present he gave to my mother," Vivienne said with a victorious smile.

Manon's eyes widened in an expression which seemed to say 'I'm not going there' and she returned her attentions to Xavier. I saw Jean and Henri were already halfway down the hallway, off to another room in the house. Apparently, my earlier assumption about them being a couple was correct.

With Vivienne in front of me and the music swelling, everyone else faded quickly into the background. My hands began to explore over Vivienne's hips and sides, down her thighs, and over the curve of her ass. My cock strained inside someone else's shorts.

"What do you think my mother will say about this suçon?" Vivienne said with a wide smile as she ran a finger proudly over my neck.

"I can't think about your mother right now," I whispered.

Her smile dropped into slack jawed surprise, and for a moment she only stared at me, unblinking.

"You made me a promise, James," she said.

I began ripping off Vivienne's blouse. I was desperate to see her exposed, and she raised her arms in surrender. The blouse was tight over her ample chest and it offered resistance for a moment, even if Vivienne didn't. But with a strong tug I pulled it off and her breasts spilled out, bare and perky and beautiful. I bent down and began sucking on her little pink nipples as her hands unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts.

Vivienne dropped to her knees and yanked my shorts down with her. My cock sprung free, and Vivienne wasted no time taking it into the warmth of her mouth. She worked hungry and greedy, as if she had been starving for a week, and was just now sitting down to a steak dinner. Her hands cupped my balls as her mouth bobbed, taking in a little more of me each time.

"Let's switch to the bedroom and give the lovers some privacy," Manon's voice purred. Her dress was gone, and she was down to her sky blue lingerie. Xavier happily obliged and ran half-naked down the hall.

"Not bad," Manon whispered loudly as she made her way out, taking a peek over the back of Vivienne's head. "Big boy..."

Vivienne stopped sucking for a moment to turn to Manon. "Stop peeking!"

"Well, you're sucking his dick in my house, what do you expect?" Manon teased with a tittering laugh. As Manon walked down the hallway, swaying her hips, she dropped her panties to the floor, giving me a glimpse of her bare ass before she turned the corner.

I moaned as Vivienne's mouth took me deeper than she ever had before, and the head of my cock pressed into her throat. She gagged, and I knew that if she kept going like that I knew I wasn't going to last long, so I pulled her up to stand in front of me. Her hands continued caressing the sides of my cock, as if she didn't want to be parted from it.

My entire body was shaking, but I wasn't entirely sure of the cause. Whether it was from a fever, cocaine, or insatiable horniness I couldn't have said. But I summoned what strength I had and lifted Vivienne's small body by her ass. I turned and shoved her against the wall.

As Vivienne's back hit the wall she let out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan. I pressed my body into her and her limbs wrapped around me. Her arms wrapped my neck and her legs curled around my hips. She still wore her boots which pressed into the small of my back as she pulled me closer to her. Her tiny skirt technically remained on her hips, but it was so hiked up it did nothing to cover her. As I pushed forward, the twitching head of my cock easily parted the wet lips of her pussy. I waited for just a moment, and let her dark eyes penetrate me.

"Keep your fucking promise already, virgin," she whispered.

I slid into Vivienne as I pressed her against the wall. As soon as my cock began entering her, she bit my shoulder and began to groan into it. My hands curled around her ass as I held her firm and pushed deeper.

"Why... are you... so fucking... big," Vivienne moaned.

Her pussy was warm and wet, but extremely tight. I soon had to push, stretching her open as I entered deeper. Vivienne gasped as I entered deeper and deeper, and I felt her pussy convulse, like it was massaging me. Each thrust pushed my chest against her breasts and I held her close, wanting to feel every inch of her skin on me. As incredible as she felt, I was losing the energy to stand, much less hold Vivienne up with me.

She dropped her feet to the floor and spun around spreading her hands high against the wall. She spread her legs and looked behind her as her small, firm ass waited in the air. I held her hips and began fucking her from behind. This let me slide higher and deeper inside her than I had before and she squeaked in pain. I saw tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Am I hurting you?" I whispered. "Do you want me to stop?"

She whirled her head.

"Stop and I'll kill you," she hissed. "Are you going to come inside me or what?"

"I want to so much," I whispered. "But I can barely stand."

"Then don't stand."

Vivienne half pushed and half guided me onto the floor. As soon as I laid back onto the carpet, she was on all fours above my crotch.

"Tell me when you're close," she said, as she took my cock again in her mouth.

I groaned with pleasure, allowing myself to lay back and relax as my cock lengthened and hardened inside her mouth. Her tongue circled the oversensitive head. I felt an orgasm coming that I knew was going to be huge, and unstoppable once it hit.

"Vivienne, I'm about to..." I moaned. I no longer had strength to move.

Vivienne released her mouth and held my cock straight up as she mounted me. She sunk down and sighed as I entered her. She gasped and leaned forward, dropping her breasts into my chest and curling her arms around my head. My cock was in heaven inside her incredible wetness. My fingers scratched along her back, wild and uncontrolled. Her body rocked on top of me until my cock pushed high and deep, hitting a nub high inside her. I shuddered and clutched her tight.

"Fill me," Vivienne whispered into my ear.

The overwhelming intensity of the orgasm nearly knocked me unconscious. I felt like I was holding onto Vivienne for dear life as I unloaded wave after wave of cum high inside her. It felt as if I was emptying myself completely into her: body and soul. It went on much longer than I expected, and when I had finally emptied everything I had, my arms dropped limp beside me.

"Fuckkkk..." Vivienne moaned. Our shared cum overflowed from her and ran down my thighs.

We lay on the floor breathing together as the music continued. I could feel how sensitive Vivienne's entire body was: any time my fingers or my lips brushed against her neck, her ass, or between her legs, she would shudder and clutch me tighter. We held each other on the floor, sweaty and sticky and spent, and lost ourselves.

I heard a slap and Vivienne let out a yelp into my ear. I realized I had fallen asleep, and then I realized I was also still half-hard and still inside of her. Manon was hovering above us, fully dressed and smirking. Manon slapped Vivienne's ass again and Vivienne reached out a weak arm to swat in Manon's general direction.

"Are you two finished yet? I want to go dancing already!" Manon said. Then she bent over and squinted at me. "Wait... James, why are you so pale?"

I was going to respond, but I could only cough uncontrollably. Both Vivienne and Manon looked at me, horrified as my coughing continued. I could feel my consciousness fading.

"What's going on with you?" Manon demanded. "Did you cum too much or what?"

I felt like I needed to respond with something cool, and sexy, and clever.

"I think..." I coughed again and managed to form one last coherent thought.

"I think I have pneumonia," I said, and passed out.

* * *

I blinked. I was in a real bed. A soft, very comfortable bed. It was my bed. Or, more accurately, the bed I shared with Claudine. I was wearing silk pajamas. They weren't mine, I thought, but they were soft and comfortable. I heard the sounds of a bath being drawn in the ensuite bathroom. I could smell the bath faintly as well, scents of flowers and herbs.

Images flowed in my head that I imagined must be the last day, or two days, or however long I had been in this bed. Fucking Vivienne at Manon's was the last coherent memory I had, but it seemed like it happened some time ago.

"James? The bath is nearly ready. Are you awake?" Claudine emerged from the bathroom wearing a white silk robe. The robe had a Japanese-style flower motif that flowed around the curves of her body.

I stared. I was struck by how overwhelmingly gorgeous Claudine was, as if I hadn't seen her before. Her perfect face and bright blue eyes were intoxicating. Her light hair was piled above her head, casually gorgeous. The curves her hourglass figure were only just barely concealed by her silk robe... she was like a statue of a goddess made flesh.

She approached the bed and leaned over me to put a hand on my forehead. Two fingers pushed my tilted my head to the side as she examined my neck. She made a 'tsk' sound.

"Gods," Claudine sighed. "Even after two days..."

"Claudine," I croaked. "Water, please."

She nodded and left for the kitchen. My eyes followed the curves of her body from behind as she left. She returned quickly, and I sat up and drank.

"So, are you feeling better?" she asked. Her hands kept pressing parts of me: my neck, forehead, chest. Feeling and testing. "You've really been out of it. One day with my daughter and you have the flu, and exhaustion, and lord knows what drugs were in your system..."

I could barely concentrate on her words because while she was examining me, her chest jiggled at the slightest movement. It looked like her breasts might spill out from her robe at any moment. I blinked and tried to concentrate on her words, but my horniness was overtaking the rest of my consciousness.

"James?" She asked and I looked up at her. "What do you remember?"

"I remember some things..." I tried to think. It was coming back now, but I had trouble distinguishing dream from reality. As my brain cleared, I remembered that both Francesca and Vivienne had come to see me here over the last few days, and a doctor as well. But most of all, Claudine was with me.

"I remember you've been taking care of me," I said. "Thank you."

Claudine smiled, sincere and a little sad.

"Of course," she said. "I'm your host aren't I? It's my job. But also I suppose I feel a little responsible for sending you out on a such a dangerous task."

"Dangerous?"

"Taking care of my daughter for a day," Claudine said, smiling to herself. "You had quite a night."

"So... when was that, exactly?" I asked.

"Two days ago," Claudine brushed a loose strand of blonde hair out of her face and smiled. "Now you seem to be feeling better, but I want to check, alright?"

She shifted her weight to examine me and my eyes glimpsed nearly her entire cleavage underneath her robe. Her soft hand went over my forehead, and slipped under my nightshirt, feeling my chest and stomach. Her touch was warm, and I felt my body waking up at her touch. It was waking up much quicker than my mind.

"So, Vivienne told me most of the story-" Claudine began, then paused.

She smiled and shook her head ruefully.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Claudine said with a chuckle. "I'm just noticing that you seem to be getting your strength back. So that's good."

I didn't follow where her eyes were looking because my own eyes were lost in her body. Her words hit my brain as sounds with no meaning.

"My strength?" I managed to ask.

"Your strength," Claudine repeated, and pleasure shot through my body like a spike. I let out a loud, guttural moan and saw Claudine's fingers caressing the bare head of my dick in slow circles. My cock was poking through the fly of my pajamas, rock hard, straight at the ceiling. The head was oversensitive, and I was aching to release.

Claudine's fingers touched the bare skin of my dick lightly, sliding down the shaft in a soft, barely-there caress. The feeling was so good that my eyes rolled back in my head and I dropped my glass of water. Thankfully, she caught it before it hit the ground.

Another one hand slid inside and cupped my balls. "So backed up," she whispered with an amused chuckle. She stroked slowly up the length of me again and my body felt like I was balancing precariously on the brink of a desperate orgasm. But then she released me.

"Please finish," I whispered, and stared into her eyes. I reached out to grab her, and she gently intercepted my hand before it reached her breast.

"James, please... we need to figure out a few things." She gently tucked my cock back inside my silk pajamas.

Claudine's soft hands touching my dick to place it in my pajamas was enough to push my body over the edge. I felt my orgasm coming on and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It felt like a leak was cracking in a dam.

"James, are you...? Oh!" Her eyes widened as my body quivered and cum began to leak from me.

"You horny boy," Claudine murmured. Without missing a beat she began quickly stroking my cock through the soft silk of the pajamas. It actually felt at least as good as her hand on my bare skin directly.

She opened her robe, and let her left breast spill out, heavy and glorious, and placed my hand on it. She sped up, letting her breast jiggle in my hand, and the dam broke completely. Claudine cupped her left hand around the head of my cock to catch my cum as her right stroked quickly. My body shuddered as I let myself release, coming rope after rope. I moaned deeply and lay back in the bed.

"You are making such a mess in your new pajamas," Claudine chided, but never stopped stroking. As my orgasm subsided, she gently pulled off my pants. She cupped by balls and finished massaging out anything I had left.

My head swam. I was barely aware of Claudine fully pulling off my soiled pants and washing her hands. She returned with a warm washcloth to clean me up and left me naked below the waist.

My eyes refocused when she sat beside my bed and covered herself back up.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Well, it's nice to see your old self coming back, James," Claudine said with a chuckle and a wry, bittersweet smile. "But before I can help you like that again... I think we need to talk."