The French Apartment Ch. 08

The French Apartment - Chapter 8: Tiramisu

Twelfth Day in Paris, afternoon.

Eighteenth arrondissement (Montmartre).

I was barely able to speak, and sweat was flowing down my forehead like a waterfall. I never liked running and was winded after five minutes, and we had been jogging nearly an hour. It felt as if my legs would burn to a crisp and fall off if I continued much longer.

"Why... are we jogging... in a place that's so... hilly," I gasped.

"Because the Montmartre is a beautiful neighborhood! What better place for a jog?" Claudine said, as she strode up next to me and gestured around us. "Look at these views!"

I looked around as I caught my breath. She wasn't wrong: the neighborhood was undoubtedly expensive, and yet it retained colorful quaintness that felt very different from Claudine's home in Saint Germain. We were high on a hill, and every so often a gap would appear in the houses, affording glimpses of the rest of the city beyond. I bent over and put my hands on my knees as I caught my breath.

Claudine was tired and sweating, but nowhere near as destroyed as I was. This was the first time I had seen her in her workout clothes. Her blonde hair was tied into a tight ponytail, and she wore skin-tight pink and blue athletic wear. She had been running ahead of me most of the way, and my eyes kept following her bouncing, muscular butt, running ahead of me. Oddly, it was motivation enough to keep me running long past what I thought I would have been capable of. I was beginning to feel like a horse trotting after a carrot dangling from a stick, and it kept me running.

As Claudine admired the views around us, I was struck by her wide, carefree smile. She was panting hard but clearly enjoyed the exertion.

"There are other pretty neighborhoods in Paris..." I panted. "... without hills."

"Tsk," Claudine said, throwing up her hand dismissively. "The hills will help you build muscle here!"

I yelped as Claudine's hand made a loud smacking sound as it cracked against my ass. I rubbed my butt as she reached behind me to grab her water bottle from my backpack. I was both running companion and pack mule on this trip.

"So are you entirely sure..." I said, catching my breath. "That I can't just build muscle by eating lots of steak and drinking wine?"

"Beauty is sacrifice, James," Claudine said and tapped my chest. "And you clearly spent time sacrificing, or you wouldn't look like that. You are just out of shape."

"Well," I gasped. "What if we try my steak and wine method for a while and see if that works?"

Claudine chuckled and took a long sip of water. "Is this the 'James Method'?"

"Exactly," I agreed.

Claudine replaced her water in my pack and grinned at me. "And I believe it also involves regular massages and blowjobs as well?"

"Oh, definitely," I said as I took my own drink from my water bottle. "I forgot, those are essential components of the James Method."

"I bet." Claudine grinned.

"Well, I always preferred weights, I was never good at cardio," I admitted. "And besides, I thought Paris would be a place to relax and enjoy life... not keep up an extreme workout routine."

"Oh, it's more important than ever," Claudine said, grinning. "The sacrifice is what earns you the enjoyment!"

Claudine waved me forward. "Come, Sacré-Coeur is just ahead. We will go there and then break for lunch."

I nodded and followed Claudine's firm bouncing ass like a beacon as she jogged up the last hill.

The Basilica of Sacré-Coeur was a giant gleaming white building at the top of the hill. We slowed as we approached it, and she gave me a little background on the place as we arrived, like my personal tour guide. For example, it was a 'basilica' and not a 'cathedral,' for reasons I forgot almost as soon as Claudine explained them. A long line of tourists waited to get inside, but Claudine had no interest in going in and instead we sat on the wide steps in front of the building, which provided an incredible view of the city below.

Paris stretched out beneath us, like someone had created a gigantic and elaborate little model city below us. We drank our water and Claudine leaned back on her hands as she waited for me to recover.

"Are you alright?" she asked. She looked a little worried. "I thought some exercise would help, but if I pushed you too fast after your recovery..."

I shook my head. I had been sick a few days ago, but I wasn't entirely clear about what I had, despite visits from doctors. It seemed likely some combination of exhaustion, bad drugs, and probably a virus I picked up while soaked with rain. In any case, whatever it was hadn't stayed in my system for long. I stood and stretched, and I realized my body did feel a little more energetic, and a little more alive, despite the pain.

"My legs are wobbly, but I'm alright," I said, and met Claudine's caring smile. "I actually feel really good after all that."

"Bien!" Claudine said as she watched me. "Me too! It's been a stressful week, and running helps my body release tension."

"A stressful week?" I asked, worried. I knew she talked with Vivienne after our date, and it had changed things in our apartment. I felt bad thinking I was a cause of stress for her. "From me?"

"Not from you," she assured me, though I didn't entirely believe her.

"Well, okay, you and Vivienne have caused a little stress," Claudine admitted. "It's odd to think of my daughter moving out this Friday. And Francesca has been very pouty recently as well, for reasons that I do not entirely know. But mostly it is work, or rather, my attempts to get back to it."

"Your work? I thought you were a..." She raised her eyebrow. "A woman of luxury?"

"A woman of luxury!" She laughed. "Did you know I was once in fashion, before my divorce?"

"Yeah, I think Francesca told me at one point," I said.

She nodded and we stared over the city spread in front of us.

"I think I would feel more secure with a foot in that world again, and I have some ideas I've wanted to pursue for some time."

"So you want to get a job?" I asked.

"Not exactly, I want to put my resources and my skills to use. I won't bore you with the details, but I have reached out to many old contacts and well... what is the word for childish, emotional games?"

"Drama?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, that. I wasn't prepared for it."

"You have enough drama in the apartment, since bringing me in," I said. I was still a little embarrassed that I was part of the reason for the drama and stress in her life and felt a need to apologize.

She smiled back at me and shook her head. "Drama in my apartment, I can handle. Out in the rest of the world I have less control. No, I've enjoyed having you around, James."

"How come you do all this for me?" I asked.

She turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "What, forcing you to struggle along with me? I like having a running companion, what can I say?"

She snickered and sipped her water.

"I mean everything," I said, and Claudine watched me, more serious now. "The clothes, the lessons, how to dress, how to carry myself... I'm a different person than I was two weeks ago."

Claudine examined me closely. "Is that a bad thing?"

I shook my head. "No, it's amazing, I just... don't know why you'd bother with me."

Claudine snorted and smiled a wan, shy smile. "You have more potential than you give yourself credit for. After all, Francesca spent a few days teaching you how to use that tongue of yours and you showed quite a lot of hidden talent very quickly!"

I grinned. "But I had barely kissed a girl before coming here, I had no idea if I could do that."

"See? More talent than you realize," she winked at me.

"I just want to feel like I'm worth your time," I said.

"You have been, James. Even... even once you go to live with Vivienne," Claudine said, and her tone was a little sad as she looked out over the view.

"Wait-" my head spun. I knew Vivienne was leaving this Friday. Nobody had said I was going with her.

"I hope she appreciates the 'New James'!" Claudine said and stood.

"Claudine I-"

"Come, let's get lunch," she said, waving.

"Claudine," I took her hand.

Her blue eyes turned to me and waited.

"I haven't even talked with Vivienne," I said. "I've barely spoken with her since I recovered."

"Then perhaps you should," Claudine said, coldly, and removed her wrist from my grasp. "Because I think she might be in love with you."

"I really don't think she is," I said. "Is that why you've had me sleeping on the couch?"

"As long as Vivienne lives here, you shouldn't be in my bed," Claudine said. "Things have changed, James."

I opened my mouth, but she shook her head and cut me off, making it clear the conversation was over for now. "Now I don't think any restaurant will let you in looking like that, so Francesca will meet us, and make lunch. And I need a shower."

* * *

Francesca pulled up soon in Claudine's large black car, and we made our way back to the apartment. Francesca disliked driving alone in front, so Claudine joined her, and they chatted during the ride back to the apartment. I sat in the back seat, my mind still spinning about Claudine's assumption I was going to live with Vivienne on Friday. The idea of leaving the apartment seemed unbelievable.

When we arrived at the apartment, Francesca went to the kitchen and blared pop music as she started preparing lunch. Claudine left straight for her bedroom, and Vivienne wouldn't be back from school for hours. I hesitated for a few moments, then pushed the door open to Claudine's bedroom: the room that up until a few days ago was our shared bedroom.

Claudine paused and turned to me. She had stripped off her shorts and the outer workout top, leaving only her simple dark blue panties and blue and pink sports bra.

"You know the rule this week, James," Claudine warned.

"I know," I said. "But you said you were stressed, so I thought I could help? Back rub, perhaps?"

Claudine's eyes narrowed as she smirked at me. "I really shouldn't have told you about that, should I? It's given you ideas."

"Well, I already had ideas," I admitted.

"Ha! What a surprise," Claudine said.

"Want to hear another tension relieving idea I had?" I said.

"My god, James..." Her tongue rolled over her lips briefly as she shook her head ruefully. "While I appreciate your generous spirit, I already have something to help me with my tension."

Her eyes flicked to the dresser beside her and I saw something I had never noticed before: a little pink bean-shaped object I had never seen before. Then it dawned on me what I was looking at.

"Is that your vibrator?" I asked.

"Oui," Claudine answered. "That is Lily."

"Huh," I thought. "Want to try a competition?"

"A competition?"

"Who is better at relieving stress? Me, or Lily?"

"That is such a... thing a man would say," Claudine answered with an eye roll.

"Best of three?" I offered. "I think I would win."

"I'm sure you would, but one of Lily's great advantages is a lack of complication," Claudine answered and nodded to the hall. "Your shower is out in the hall. And try not to flood it like you did on your first day. I'm not going to join you and help this time."

"Alright," I said, and pulled off my shirt. It slid off my chest, sticking a little due to the sweat, and I threw it into the hamper. Claudine scanned up and down my broad chest, slick with a layer of sweat. She raised an eyebrow as I pushed down my running pants and underwear and threw them into the laundry hamper. My cock hung long and flopped in front of me as I walked past Claudine towards her bathroom.

"James!" Claudine whispered.

"Just getting a towel," I said.

"There are towels in the hall bathroom."

"But these are softer," I said, and grabbed one of the towels from Claudine's bathroom and tied it around my waist. I walked past her again, to the door leading out of her bedroom. Her eyes never left me.

My hand hesitated on the front door, and I turned back to Claudine in her underwear, who still had her hands hovering behind her back.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Well?" Claudine asked. "I need to finish changing."

"Would it violate the rules this week if I waited here until you went into the bath?" I asked.

"You've seen me before, James. What's one more time?"

"Do you ever get tired of looking at beautiful things?" I asked.

Claudine's chest rose and fell softly as she watched me. The tight sports bra had been doing an admirable job keeping Claudine contained, but her hands twisted and it fell to the ground. Her incredible breasts almost spilled out of them, weighty and bouncing and glorious. She threw her bra to the laundry hamper and pushed her panties to the floor, adding it as well. My eyes followed the little slit between her legs, the low-cropped tuft of blonde above it. My eyes took in everything they could, admiring her statuesque, incredible body.

My towel slipped from my waist as my quickly growing hard-on pushed the towel apart, undoing the hastily tied knot. Claudine snorted in amusement as I struggled to pick it up.

"Don't cum all over the bathroom please, James," Claudine said, and turned towards her bathroom.

"Don't forget Lily," I said.

She paused, narrowed her eyes at me, and swiped her vibrator from the dresser.

* * *

Eventually Vivienne came home, and we all sat down for dinner. Francesca put together a simple white fish with roasted potatoes and a fennel salad; it was somewhat healthier than I normally would have preferred but it was better than I expected. Awkwardness hung in the air as we ate. Claudine talked a little with Vivienne about her move, but they skirted anything important and contained the conversation to the logistics of Vivienne's move. Soon after dinner, Vivienne retired to her bedroom to study. Claudine and Francesca introduced me to port wine: a sweet, heavy red wine that I decided was basically an alcoholic dessert.

As Claudine, Francesca, and I sunk into a pleasant buzz, the awkwardness of the evening melted away a little. Francesca told ridiculous stories of her time growing up in Italy, of which she seemed to have an endless supply. My eyes kept darting between the two beautiful women in their contrasting nighttime looks: Claudine in her elegant, expensive silk evening wear, and Francesca in casual skimpy cotton undergarments that showed off her long legs and pretty, petite body. I would have chatted with them long into the night, but eventually Francesca decided it was time to return to her own apartment.

Francesca hugged me, and kissed me softly on each cheek, and pressing her chest into mine before leaving. Claudine did the same, and as her lips brushed my cheek, I felt my cock twitch and wake up in my pajamas. But she soon retired to her bedroom, insisting on reading before bed.

I could have left for my new spot on the couch, but the prospect was not particularly enticing. I wanted to talk with Vivienne to clear the air between us, but I got the sense she had been avoiding me since our night together. I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to say to her, but I didn't like the silence. So I took a deep breath and knocked on her door.

"Oui?" Vivienne asked from behind her door. I gently pushed it open.

Vivienne was laid out flat on her bed, face down. She was reading a textbook and had her phone open next to it. She wore her short pajamas that just barely covered her butt, and one of her classic loose black T-shirts.

She looked up and gave me a soft, bittersweet smile.

"Bonne soirée," she said.

"Looking forward to the move?" I asked, as I stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"I am, actually. And I have you to thank, I think."

"You do?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded. "I've been bugging my mother for it for almost a year. But it was your idea to stay in school in exchange for my own apartment."

"It was one of my better ideas," I said, grinning proudly.

Vivienne smirked. "Or more likely, it is easier for her to live here with you, if I am not also here. Either way, I have you to thank though, don't I?"

"Well I'm not sure that's it," I mumbled and scratched my head, embarrassed.

"Oh?" Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "I suspect it is the real reason she agreed to it."

"Well she told me she expects me to go live with you," I said.

Vivienne looked at me a little confused, then nodded to the door behind me. I closed it and she closed her textbook and scooted aside on the bed so I could sit next to her. My hip pressed against her thigh.

"I didn't say anything to her about that," she said. Her voice was quiet and perhaps apologetic.

"I know, that's what I told her too," I said. "I mean, we haven't talked at all, since Manon's."

She fidgeted a bit and whispered. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to avoid you, but you just got sick after and then my mother is always around and... well I just didn't know what to say."

"Alright I have one question I have been dying to ask you," I said.

She turned to me. "Alright?"

I looked down to see those dark eyes peering at me curiously. I was a little scared to ask, in case I was wrong.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.

Vivienne burst out in laughter, and she poked my side. "Of course, at least until you passed out with your pneumonia, or whatever."

"Good," I said, relieved. "I was just worried I might have hurt you or something."

"Oh you did hurt me," Vivienne said, snickering and rubbing between her legs. "I still felt you the next day, big boy."

"Shit, sorry."

"Don't be," she said and nodded her head. "It felt really good as well. Sometimes pleasure is worth a little pain."

"I feel like someone else just said that to me recently," I muttered, thinking as I so often did how similar mother and daughter were in ways they didn't seem to realize.

"And I would ask if you enjoyed yourself, but..." Vivienne snickered and glanced to my crotch. "Well, it was kind of obvious that you did."

I smiled back at her. "I'm glad you were my first."

"Hah!" Vivienne gave me a disbelieving smirk. "I'm still not convinced you kept your promise on that."

"I did!" I insisted. "Technically."

"Technically," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "James, I suppose I have to tell you something..."

She looked away and fiddled with her textbook.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to live alone," she murmured.

It wasn't necessarily a surprise, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to ask to live with her. And yet, for some reason, it still hurt.

"I kind of figured that's why you haven't been talking to me," I said.

"It's just... I've never lived by myself before," she said, apologetically.

She looked extremely awkward, fidgeting, and I put my hand on her shoulder. She turned to me, searching.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked.

"You don't need to apologize," I said and shook my head. "Besides... I don't think I could have left the apartment anyway."

"Of course," she playfully shoved my thigh. "You could never leave my mother."

I grinned, a little red cheeked from embarrassment.

"It would feel wrong to leave," I admitted. "But I did- I do like you. I wasn't like... pretending, just to get in your pants."

She grinned. "And yet, you enjoyed getting in my pants, no?"

"Well... obviously," I admitted, getting red faced again.

She shook her head.

"You're a confused, horny boy, James. You know that?"

I scratched my head and grinned at her. She was amused and a little pitying, but thankfully she didn't seem angry. "Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it in such a hurtful manner," I murmured.

She chuckled and laid back on her pillows. I tried to avoid watching her breasts bounce underneath her loose shirt, but I couldn't help it, and she grinned as she caught me, but said nothing. She brushed her hair out of her face. "It's just... I've never lived on my own before, you know? And I've known you for like, a week."

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize," I said, holding up my hands. "For the record, I never actually asked you to live with you. But I will miss living in the same apartment with you."

"Mhm," she said, smirking at me. "You will miss ogling me, you mean."

"I mean, I'm only a confused, horny boy, remember?" I said, with a shrug.

She grinned. "Come visit though, alright? I might need a manservant to help me from time to time."

"To carry your shopping?" I said.

"And move furniture, and such," she said, grinning.

I nodded. "As long as you don't forget me."

"Well, I might forget you, actually..." she said and gave me a strange, mischievous look.

"Oh? Was I that forgettable?"

"Well how could I remember you? I don't have a good picture of you," she said, accusingly. "I gave you a picture in my favorite bikini, and what did you give me? Nothing!"

"Alright," I agreed. "Find your second favorite bikini and I'll wear that one."

Her face lit up and I immediately realized I made a mistake. But it was too late. Vivienne had already sprung from the bed and was excitedly rummaging through one of her drawers.

"Wait, I was just joking about the bikini-" I began.

She brought over a few bikini options and made me stand up next to the bed. "Take off your shirt."

I sighed and with some regret pulled off my T-shirt. Vivienne held up various colorful options to my bare chest.

"Please don't post this picture online," I said.

"Don't worry, I won't show your face," Vivienne said, as she evaluated. "I'll keep it classy."

"That's the word I would use for this situation, too," I groaned.

She finally decided on one and nodded.

"Why do you even own a pink bikini with polka dots?" I asked. "That doesn't seem like something you'd ever wear."

"Oh I wouldn't, my mother got it for me on vacation. But it's perfect for you!" Vivienne said, laughing as she strapped the bikini top onto my chest.

When she was done I held out my arms, displaying my new look: pink bikini top and pajama bottoms.

"So do I look more handsome in pink?" I asked.

Vivienne looked me over, snorted loudly, and shook her head.

"No."

I sighed.

"Now drop your pants," she commanded.

I hesitated. "Can't we just do the top?"

She gave me a look of scorn. "I did top and bottom for you."

"Well that was different."

"No it's the same, and besides Manon's going to LOVE this," Vivienne said, eyes wide, and texted vigorously on her phone.

"Uh oh," I said. "Does she really have to see this?"

"I would never deny her a picture like this!" Vivienne said and nodded to my pants. "Come on, James, we don't have all night."

"Sorry Vivienne but I don't trust you," I said, backing up a little from the bed.

Vivienne scowled at me and pursed her lips. "Fine."

"Fine what?"

"Fine, I know how to motivate you," Vivienne said.

"You do?"

"Oui," Vivienne said, and pulled off her shirt, dropping it on the bed. "Because you are a simple, horny boy."

Her bare tits hung beautiful and perky in front of her. She sat up straight on the bed, crossing her legs and gave me a long, good look. I felt my cock twitch and her eyes flicked down to my crotch.

"I saw it move," she said, with a victorious grin.

"You'll keep it off while you take the picture?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, and held up the pink bottoms. "Now take them off. I want to see what that big dick looks like in these."

"But I'm not like... hard, or anything," I muttered, still embarrassed.

Vivienne approached me and placed my hands on her bare breasts as her hands slid under the hem of my pants.

"I can help with that," she whispered and kissed my neck as she pushed my pajamas down.

I sighed as her lips kissed up the side of my neck, and over my jaw line. My hands fondled her, feeling the incredible firm squish of her breasts and sneaking around her waist to grab her small butt. Her own hands cradled my balls and stroked me softly. I grew harder and harder in her hands as her fingers worked over my growing hard-on.

"Your thing changes so much, you know that?"

"Yeah, I'm aware," I gasped, barely able to form words as my nerves concentrated on her touch. "Can you take your pants off?"

"No, I'm not going to fuck you James," she cautioned, and got to her knees in front of me. "I'm just getting you ready for the picture. Now don't be too loud," she said, and took my hard-on in her mouth.

I sighed and bit my lip to not speak too much. She cupped my balls and I grew, flexing and swelling, as my cock grew inside the warmth of Vivienne's mouth. Soon she began to gag and could only get about half of my full length inside her mouth. She put a hand on the base of my cock and stroked the base.

"There we go," she said, finally, sitting back, and holding my rock hard erection, admiring her work.

"Please let me cum," I begged, as she pulled my pink pajamas over my legs.

"No," Vivienne said, as she pulled the pajama bottoms over my erection.

"Vivienne, come on..."

Her dark eyes looked up at me and she smirked.

"Go ask my mother," she teased, and gave my shaft another stroke, ensuring I was at my full length. It was like trying to cover a hot dog with a cocktail napkin.

"Perfect," Vivienne said, and jumped onto the bed. Her bare breasts jiggled as she sat in position and grabbed her phone.

I held my hands in front of my face, just in case this ended up somewhere on the internet, and heard the click of her taking a picture. She repositioned me and took another.

"Alright. I can properly remember you now," Vivienne said.

"And so can Manon, I suppose?" I said.

"Of course!"

"And who knows who else," I mumbled, already worried about where that picture would end up.

I sighed and quickly pulled off the bikini and put on my own pajamas. I laid beside her on the bed and tried to slide a hand under her pajama shorts, but she grabbed it.

"James, I told you. I'm not fucking you."

"But you just put my dick in your mouth," I complained. "You're really going to leave me in this state?"

"That was for the sake of art, James," Vivienne said with a flourish. "See?"

She showed me her text conversation with Manon, where she had just sent this picture. I looked even more ridiculous than I thought. Manon immediately began texting back exclamation points and Vivienne put the phone away. I already felt my erection fading, so if she was trying to put me out of the mood to have sex with her, it was working.

Vivienne sighed as she leaned sideways on her bed, still topless.

I looked over her, possibly for the last time I would see her like this.

"I can't be with you, James," she sighed.

"I know, you want to live alone," I said, holding up my hands.

"It's not just that... every time I see you, I still see my mother," Vivienne said. "I need to be away from her entirely, at least for a while."

I nodded.

"I have one question though," Vivienne said, sitting up. "Before you go."

"Yeah?" I asked, trying to look her in the eyes, and failing.

A wicked grin spread across her face as she held her own bare breasts in her hand, bouncing them a little.

"Whose are better? Mine, or my mother's?"

I groaned. "I think you enjoy torturing me, Vivienne."

"Obviously," she said, with an eye roll, as if it was such an obvious statement it barely required a response. She bounced her tits slightly as she watched me. "But you didn't answer. I know hers are bigger, but they hang down more. Mine are more..." she arched her back and let them jiggle, as if to prove her point.

"If I say yours are better will you let me suck on them?" I asked, staring at her little pink nipples and the cute little areola surrounding them.

"No, I want the truth," she said, giving me a pouty face. "If I bribed you it wouldn't be the truth."

"Well then..." I shrugged. "I like both steak and hamburgers, what can I say?"

"Ugh," Vivienne said, disappointed.

"But I'd put both of you over just about anyone else in the world," I said.

"That still wasn't an answer," Vivienne said, and grabbed her shirt to pull it over her head.

"Want me to go down on you?" I offered, grasping for any straw I had.

She began to respond, but hesitated. Finally, she shook her head and tapped her textbook. "Sorry, I have a quiz tomorrow, James. And if I let you do that, you'll just try to fuck me anyway, and it will be a whole mess. I should just study."

I sighed and got up from her bed.

"Alright... bonne chance," I said.

"God, your accent is still awful," Vivienne scoffed. "But thank you. And I will let you know next time I require a manservant."

"How do you know I'll agree to keep being your manservant, after all this torture?" I asked.

"Because I know how to motivate you," she said, smirking, and waved me away to the door.

"You mean- you know how to manipulate me," I said.

She shrugged. "What's the difference?"

"You know," I said, grinning wide I prepared my next volley: "Sometimes you really are a lot like your mother."

"Oh you bastard!" Vivienne yelled, her face halfway between a laugh and a scowl, and hurled her textbook in my general direction. Luckily it went wide and struck the wall.

"Until you need my services again," I said, gave her a little bow, and left.

* * *

I tossed and turned on the couch, unable to sleep. I tried to play games on my phone but couldn't concentrate on anything. At around 1:00am I finally decided to go to the kitchen and make myself a snack. I had just sat down in the dining room eating a makeshift snack consisting of toast and strawberries when I heard soft footsteps.

Claudine walked into the kitchen, wearing one of her long silk robes. She looked startled as she saw me. The thin robe barely covered her, and she tied the silk belt around her waist as she raised an eyebrow at me curiously.

"Couldn't sleep," I explained.

Claudine nodded and reached over to put a kettle on the stove and lit the gas.

"Tea?" she asked.

"Sure," I said with a shrug.

"Let's do chamomile," she decided.

Even in her current state at 1:00am, with no makeup, hairs escaping from her blonde bun, making no effort to be anything other than herself... she was completely stunning. I watched her as she waited for the water to boil, prepared two tea bags, and brought two steaming mugs to the kitchen table. She sat across from me and cradled her mug as she waited for it to cool.

"The couch is not comfortable?" she asked.

"That's not it," I said, and fiddled with my tea bag. "So I talked with Vivienne-"

"We can talk these things on Friday," she said, shaking her head.

"Claudine, I'm not going to go to her apartment," I said quickly before she could cut me off. "I like her of course, but we're not... well she's definitely not in love with me, but I think she thinks of me like..."

Claudine raised an eyebrow.

"Like a pet," I responded.

Claudine chuckled and blew on her tea. "People still love their pets."

"Even so, she doesn't want me living with her, and if she did, it wouldn't matter."

"Oh?" Claudine asked, taking a sip.

"Because I don't want to move," I said.

"Hm," she said, nodding a little, but not particularly convinced. "We can talk on Friday."

"Claudine..."

"And until then, couch. And after that... well, we will discuss then."

I eyed her suspiciously. She was definitely avoiding making any promises that I would return to her bed even after Vivienne left. But it was also clear she wasn't going to have that conversation now, while Vivienne was still in the house.

I sighed. "Sorry. I'm just a little frustrated."

"I can tell." She tilted her head as she watched me curiously. "You spent the last twenty one years of your life sleeping without a woman beside you. It's only been a few days? Has that been so bad?"

"That was before I came to this apartment," I said. "I think I'm a different person, now."

She grinned and blew on her tea.

"New James," Claudine murmured, chuckling to herself.

We sat in silence, drinking our tea and I chewed on my strawberries.

"I have trouble sleeping alone as well," she said, finally.

"Is that why you're still awake?" I asked.

She sipped her tea and stared into the distance as if she was talking with herself, rather than me. "Unfortunately men are also... complicated."

"Well, at least you have Lily," I said.

Claudine nearly spit her tea and hers eyes widened as they returned to me. For a second I thought she was going to be angry, but she only laughed.

"I suppose it's my own fault for letting you see my vibrator."

"Not 'it': 'her,'" I corrected, holding my finger in the air like a professor. "Lily has a name, you know."

"Idiot," Claudine said and playfully slapped me on the arm.

"You know, I'm not putting you under any probation," Claudine murmured. "You can take care of yourself as long as you don't make a mess."

"Well it can be difficult to do that alone," I said.

Claudine rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious," I said. "It's a very awkward situation."

"There's hand lotion in the top left drawer," she said.

"Thanks for the suggestion," I said, meeting her smirk, and bit into a strawberry.

"Or you could always visit Francesca. She might be still awake."

I paused mid-bite.

"Wha?" I said, mouth full of strawberry.

"Well she stays up late," Claudine said with a shrug. "That's why she has such a hard time starting her morning duties."

"Wait, I can just... go to Francesca's apartment?"

"Why not? She only lives on the floor above."

"Are you offering what I think you are?"

"Offering?" she smiled wide. "Are you asking if I am offering Francesca to you like a plate of cookies?"

"Well, I didn't say the cookie thing," I said, hands up. "But since you did..."

Claudine slapped my arm playfully. "I only suggested you could knock on her door, if you wanted to. Maybe she will let you in or slap your dirty mouth. Either is fine with me. But I only said it since apparently you're having such a hard time sleeping without any... companionship."

"Huh," I said, thinking. "How come you don't knock on her door, since you also can't sleep? That's one of her jobs here, isn't it?"

Claudine narrowed her eyes and sipped her tea slowly as she examined me.

"I'm really not sure I should be answering these questions for you."

"Why not?" I said. "We're both awake with nothing better to do. And you brought it up."

"Would you like it if your boss came to your home?" Claudine asked and shook her head. "No, she serves me here, but I let her have space so she can be her own woman in her apartment. But I don't think she will mind if you knock."

"How come she isn't serving you here then?" I asked.

"I don't like her to do that with Vivienne at home," Claudine said, with a shrug. "Francesca helped raise the girl, after all. And she's on edge this week. Any other probing, inappropriate questions?"

"Yeah, actually so when Francesca comes to visit you, what exactly-"

"Eat your strawberries and go to sleep, James," Claudine said, rolling her eyes, and stood.

"Well thanks for the suggestions," I said.

Claudine nodded to me and was about to leave the dining room when she paused. "I did hear... you owe Francesca something about... a rain check?"

"She told you about that huh?"

Claudine grinned mischievously.

"Francesca tells me everything, James," Claudine said, and returned to her bedroom.

* * *

Claudine's rain check comment gave me an idea, so I took a piece of paper and found a sharpie. I abandoned my strawberries and wasted no time going up the next floor to Francesca's apartment. I knocked but there was no response, so I tried once more. I didn't knock very loud: it was nearly midnight, and I didn't want to wake her if she was asleep. I was about to give up and head back down when I heard her latch unlock.

The door opened and Francesca put her hand on the doorframe and looked me over. The first thing I noticed was her hair: a wild, untamed tornado of auburn curls. The second thing I noticed was that she was topless. She was barefoot and only wore a pair of thin striped pajama pants that accentuated her petite frame. My eyes ran over her cute handful-sized breasts, and those little brown nipples poking proudly towards me. My cock flexed under my pajamas and I saw her eyes flick downwards towards it and return to my eyes.

"Buonasera," Francesca said in her lilting, musical Italian. "Come to borrow a cup of sugar?"

"I was looking for somewhere to sleep," I said, my fingers nervously fiddling with the paper in my pocket.

"Ah," she said, nodding. "Claudine still sending you to the couch?"

"Yeah, I think she's just trying not to go to war with Vivienne this week."

"Well that's a first," Francesca said with an amused snort.

She tilted her head to the side as she examined me. "So did Claudine send you to me, or was it your idea to knock on my door?"

"Well..." I took a deep breath and grinned. "Claudine explained the situation to me. Frankly, I wish you all had explained it earlier."

"Per favore..." She raised an eyebrow. "... what 'situation'?"

"Well, she said that I should consider you my personal sex slave," I said.

Francesca's eyes widened and she just blinked as she stared at me, processing.

"I forget the exact wording but... something about how she was offering you to me like a plate of cookies?" I said.

Francesca smiled with her teeth while her eyes narrowed, reminding me of a shark.

"So, I suppose you came up here to eat your cookie, then?" Francesca asked.

"Well yes, but I'm not sure cookies are the best metaphor for you," I said.

"Oh?" Francesca watched me with amusement. "I am not a cookie?"

"I think you're more like..." I thought for a moment and nodded. "Tiramisu."

Francesca snorted in amusement. "Because I am Italian?"

"Well yes, but also I figure if you were a food, you would probably have coffee in you."

Francesca smiled. "I can accept this."

"And... tiramisu is delicious," I said, looking over her smooth skin with that slight mediterranean tan.

"Well I do taste very delicious, as you know," Francesca agreed. "You seem different," she said and shook her head as she watched me curiously, as if I was something she didn't expect.

"Oh, I owe you something," I said, and pulled the folded paper from my pocket and showed her. Francesca took it and her head shot backwards in a silent laugh. Her breasts bounced as she laughed, and I resisted the urge to just grab her immediately.

"Dio..." she said, shaking her head as she looked at the paper.

I had written 'Rain Check' at the bottom in sharpie, under a little picture of a rain cloud. I folded the paper and tucked it in the front hem of her cotton pants. Francesca looked down to me tucking the paper into her pants, then back to me. She looked completely bewildered.

"James, weren't you a nervous virgin like... five minutes ago? What happened?"

"I think living in this apartment is affecting me, somehow."

"Is it?" she murmured.

I stepped forward and put my hands behind her neck. I leaned forward and took her soft mouth in mine, slow but unhesitating. Her mouth opened for me, and she breathed heavily as our lips met, and my tongue slid into her mouth. My hands slid up her bare sides, finally cupping her firm, bouncy breasts. Her mouth was warm and soft, and she moved her head from one side to the other as we kissed. My hands began to get more aggressive, and she broke the kiss.

"Well if you're going to ravish me, don't do it out here," Francesca said and pushed her door open wide. "The neighbors are very nosy."

Francesca's little one bedroom apartment was cute, if much more modest than Claudine's grand suite. The ceiling was low, and knickknacks, potted plants, and artwork dotted the walls. It had a kind of cluttered coziness that was very inviting.

"I like your apartment," I said, looking around.

"Grazie," Francesca said, and gently closed the door behind her.

She approached me, with my rain check still poking from the front of her pants. She curled her arms over my shoulders casually, as if we were about to begin a middle school slow dance.

"Do you want to offer me a drink or something?" I asked.

"Do you want a drink?" she said.

"Well, that's what people do in this situation, right?" I said.

"Perhaps, I wouldn't know," Francesca said with a shrug. "Men don't come to my door in the middle of the night offering to ravish me as often as you might think."

"Well I could get something from Claudine's, if it would help you be more comfortable," I offered.

Francesca grinned wide. Her voice was a low, Italian-accented rumble.

"Who cares if their sex slave is comfortable?" she asked.

I slid my hands inside the hem of her pants and pushed down with my thumbs. Her pants dropped to the ground and the rain check fluttered to the floor. I slid my hands behind her panties, grabbed her small butt, and picked her bodily up. Her legs curled around my waist, and she began kissing me as I carried her. I carried her to the bedroom, bumping into one wall and another as her hair flew around my face. I finally threw her on the bed, and she squealed and her limbs and hair flew around her. I pulled off my shirt and she watched me closely as I pushed my pajama pants down, standing naked in front of her.

"Take off your panties," I commanded.

"Why don't you suck my clit awhile?" Francesca asked, legs wide. "You're good at that."

I shook my head and lightly stroked my hard-on as I approached the bed. "I'm here to ravish you, not seduce you."

"Aww," Francesca pouted. "But you're supposed to eat tiramisu, not stick your dick in it."

"Maybe once I've taken what I've wanted, I'll consider it," I said, and climbed on top of her. My hands went beside her head as my knees pressed against her hips.

Francesca's eyes widened.

"Take them off," I repeated.

"You want them off, get them off yourself, virgin," she challenged.

Our bodies intertwined and wrestled, as caresses turned to gropes which in turn transformed into scratches, squeezes, and bites. Within minutes we both had red lines and teeth marks across both of our bodies.

Francesca kept thwarting my efforts to pull her panties off. I had them pulled to her thighs finally when she wiggled out and bent over and took my cock in her mouth, sucking quick and forceful. The mix of surprise and pleasure made my limbs waver, and she pulled her mouth off my cock and pulled her panties back up with a victorious cackle.

I leapt on top of her and she gasped as my hand slid between her legs, finding her panties soaked through. She began to struggle again when I finally pinned her on the bed. She bit my arm.

"Francesca!" I gasped.

"You want this tiramisu you need to work for it!" she exclaimed, cackling like a witch.

I put my body weight on her, and spun her face down into the bed. Finally, I was able to rip her panties fully off her legs. Her squirming was a little more subdued now, and as she raised her butt up, I slid two fingers up her thighs, and inside her. She moaned as I swirled inside her in circles. I pushed her forward as I fingered her, shoving her face into the pillows. Finally, I pried her legs apart and I slid my cock inside her slowly, making sure she could feel every inch penetrate her. Francesca's fingers gripped her pillows hard and she gasped I entered her deeper.

"Fuck, you're big," Francesca moaned low.

She was tight, and it felt like I was spreading her apart as her pussy clenched me. As I slid deeper into her she got wetter. My hips began pressing into her ass as I fucked her into the bed. Her body curled as I thrusted, pressing her head against her pillows, and nearly shoving her into the headboard. Her arms and legs stopped wiggling and resisting as I took her over and over. I could feel my orgasm about to burst, and I moaned loudly.

"Francesca, I'm going to..." I groaned, concentrating on how good it felt to be buried inside her.

Francesca turned her head, and her hair nearly completely covered her face. I could only see one eye peer through the mess, narrowed at me.

"You aren't going to run away just before you cum, like you did last time?"

I leaned forward, covering her body with mine. I spread her legs and slid inside her as deep as I could, pressing until my dick couldn't go any further. She gasped and I whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to fill you, over and over, as much as I want," I groaned.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

I used her hips as handles until my orgasm hit me like a truck.

"About time," she groaned, and wiggled her butt as I came.

We collapsed into a pile of naked limbs after I finished. We cleaned up, and Francesca turned to me, curled into a ball, using my chest as a pillow.

It was still dark when I awoke to a pressure on my head.

"James," Francesca whispered.

I blinked. Francesca was staring at me in the dark. I felt her hands pressing down on my head, into the covers.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I can't sleep," Francesca whispered. I blinked, and she stared back. "I need you to help."

"Help?" I murmured, barely understanding.

"Go on," she insisted, trying to push my head down more. She slid my body just barely under the covers, and I realized she was trying to push me between her legs.

"Are you trying to make me eat you out?" I moaned.

"Obviously," she murmured.

"How late is it?" I whispered.

"Come on," Francesca pleaded. "Just finish me once, maybe twice, then I can sleep."

I blinked. "I don't think sex slaves get to make requests like that."

"Oh shut up!" She finished positioning me under the covers and shoved her pussy into my face.

I lapped slowly, in long, deliberate strokes up her pussy and began swirling around her clit. Her body undulated as if she was a wave in a storm. I worked, listening to her sighs, and went faster as her undulations increased. Finally, she gripped my hair and began soaking my mouth. She let out a long groan and then a long sigh as her body relaxed. Feeling her body orgasm under me was making me horny again, and by the time she was finished I was poking into the mattress.

"Thank you," she murmured, already half-asleep. "I'm so glad you're good at that, and I'm getting tired of doing it myself..."

I chuckled and wiped my mouth. She buried her head in my chest, and I ran my hands over her naked body. She was still breathing heavily and was covered with a thin layer of sweat. I reached down and put her hand on my newly hard cock. She smirked and stroked it slowly.

"Doesn't Claudine take care of you?" I asked.

"I wish," Francesca scoffed.

"Don't you fuck her?" I asked.

"I fuck her, but she does not fuck me," Francesca clarified, and ran her palm over my sensitive head, forcing me to gasp. She smirked and laid her head on my shoulder and shrugged. "Claudine is a queen, she likes to be served."

"Haven't you asked Claudine if she'll return the favor?" I asked. "Sounds like a pretty one-sided relationship?"

"She's my employer, not my wife, silly boy," Francesca chided, and flicked my erection, and giggled. I recoiled from the hard flick.

"You don't want her to?" I asked.

"Of course! I've dreamed of her licking me, and doing... other things," Francesca said. "But unlike you, I know sometimes not to eh... what is the expression? Don't rock the boat?"

"I bet I can get her to eat you out," I said, thinking.

Francesca gave me a curious look but shook her head and poked my chest.

"No, that's what you are for," she said. "But next time, not so much whining. No girl likes a boy to hesitate and complain when she asks him for that."

She gripped my shaft harder, as if to prove her point.

"Hey, I was barely awake," I said.

"So? Next time wake up faster."

I mounted her and slid my hands behind her, grabbing her ass. "I can't let my sex slave talk to me like that!"

Francesca squealed and we rolled, groping each other around the bed. But she was tired and offered little resistance as I finally had her sitting on top of me. I laid back and pulled her over her pussy over my cock.

"Again?!" She said, turning to me. "I thought we were going back to sleep!"

"You can go to sleep. I only need your body," I said, and pulled her pussy down and entered her.

Her fingers dug into my ankles.

"Jesus fuck," she gasped, and wiggled as I slid deeper. "You're a horny fucking boy, James."

"Is it alright?" I asked, wondering if I was pushing her a little too far.

"Hah!" Francesca laughed. "What a gentleman, asking after you are already inside me!"

I was going to respond, but she squirmed and sat back onto my crotch, driving me deep inside her. Francesca turned her head and arched her back.

"Were you going to fuck me or make me sit up here naked all night?"

I pulled her down over me and began her like a sex toy. She moaned and wiggled her hips, until I came inside her again. The second orgasm wasn't quite as big as the first, but it somehow gave me a greater sense of relief. We collapsed again, and sleep overtook us both.

I slept deeply, until I had a sex dream. All the women in the apartment made an appearance, and I was shocked how real everything felt. Then, I blinked, and Francesca's room replaced the scene from my dream. The incredible feeling on my cock remained.

"Well hello morning wood," Francesca's voice said from under the covers.

I felt my cock enveloped by her mouth again as she began bobbing faster. I blinked, and just as I realized what was happening, a feeling of pleasure overwhelmed me, and I burst. I groaned and my head collapsed back against the pillow. Everything was silent except for the sound of Francesca gulping as she swallowed my cum.

I blinked and woke up again to the sound of the shower running and Francesca loudly humming along to 'Espresso' playing on a speaker from the bathroom.

"Can I come in?" I asked, pushing the door slightly open. I repeated myself, louder, to be heard over the music.

"Come in," Francesca said loudly, over the music. "But don't try to fuck me in the shower. It's too small."

I saw Francesca's naked body, obscured by the fog on the glass. She bent down and turned down the music playing from a speaker in the corner of the tub.

"I just wanted to say... I'm glad you're not mad at me or anything."

She opened the door slightly and poked her head out. She smiled. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"For being so rough last night," I said.

"Let me tell you a secret, virgin boy..." Francesca winked. "Sometimes girls like it rough."

I grinned and she closed the shower door again.

"Can I pee, or would that be weird?" I asked.

Francesca laughed as she soaped herself. "It's perfectly normal, James, as long as you are using the toilet and you aren't trying some weird sex thing."

"No, that one's a little beyond me," I said, as I sat down and began to relieve myself. I smiled as I watched Francesca's body clean herself. I'm sure she was putting on a bit of an extra show for my benefit. "I'm so glad I got placed here."

Francesca laughed from the shower. "Me too. I hope Claudine lets you stay."

Adrenaline caused me to jerk upright on the toilet, and it stopped my peeing. I had to concentrate and force myself to restart, and finish.

"What do you mean?" I asked, worried, as I got up and washed my hands. "I told her I already decided not to live with Vivienne-"

"Well it's not your apartment, is it?" Francesca said. "Has she said you can stay? Or has she only said you will discuss after Vivienne leaves?"

I replayed every conversation with Claudine over the last few days. She was consistent and only said we would talk once Vivienne left.

"Are you serious?" I asked, beginning to panic. "Claudine might kick me out? Why?"

"She is a proud woman, James. I think she feels like... she is second place. And she does not like that feeling, let me tell you."

"But I chose to stay..." I said. "I told her that."

Francesca opened the door to the shower slightly and gave me a pitying look.

"Honestly... I'm just not sure she believes you."

I pulled the lid to the toilet down and sat as my mind whirled. I think Francesca was going out of her way to pose seductively as she washed herself, but I barely had the presence of mind to pay attention.

"Can I turn my music back on?" she asked after we had sat in silence for some time. "Ever since you mentioned tiramisu it made me think of Espresso! And I love Sabrina Carpenter!"

"I need your help," I said, finally.

"Ugh," Francesca said, evidently disappointed that she couldn't play the music again. "With what?"

"I need to seduce Claudine," I said. "Once Vivienne leaves."

Francesca laughed uproariously.

"You aren't making me feel better about this plan," I said, feeling a little defeated.

Francesca opened the shower door to peek at me again.

"So you want to plan a daaaate?" Francesca said, grinning wide.

I nodded. "Yes but I have no idea where to even begin."

"You don't know how to take a girl out on a date, virgin boy?" Francesca snickered.

"This isn't high school, this is Claudine. What am I supposed to do, take her to a movie?"

"Perhaps," Francesca said with a shrug. She wrung out her long, wet hair. "What do I get out of it?"

I blinked, surprised she was even asking.

"I thought you wanted me to stay? Can't you just help me?"

Francesca winked. "Okay, I know what I want."

"Alright, I'll bite. What do you want?"

"You use your tongue on me whenever I want. No questions asked. And NO whining."

"Well you can pretty much can ask for that already," I said, shrugging.

"You don't understand," Francesca said, and closed the door again. She turned the music up a few notches, but I could still hear her since she talked so loudly. "I do not want to hear 'Oh no Francesca it is too late at night, I am too tiiiired!' or 'Oh no Francesca, we're in the middle of a Starbucks!'"

"Alright, sorry about whining last night," I said, eying her silhouette beyond the glass suspiciously. "But do you have a coffee shop kink or something? Why Starbucks?"

"Just keeping my options open," she said. "Aaaaand, no expiration date."

"Alright, as long I live in the apartment."

"No that is not what I mean," Francesca said, slowly soaping down her thighs. "Imagine you are fifty years old. You have a boring family with nine childrens-"

"Nine?"

"Yes, and you live in a boring city in America like... Ohio," she said, her voice dripping with disgust.

"Ohio is a state, not a city," I corrected.

"Whatever," Francesca said, and continued. "And your wife is about to put out a beautiful Christmas dinner when- guess what? Doorbell rings!"

"And that's you?"

"Exactly! And you know what you will do? You will go brush your teeth, and leave your family, and get down to business, no questions asked."

"Uh huh," I said, skeptically. "So you'll be like... sixty, in this example?"

"Don't worry!" Francesca said, as if I was about to panic. "I will be a hot as fuck old lady. Like Sophia Loren."

"Well, I wasn't worried about that so much," I said, replaying this scenario in my head. "I'm more concerned why you, as a sixty year old woman, are wandering around random towns in America trying to get your pussy licked... on Christmas?"

"Who knows why I do the things I do?" Francesca said and opened the shower door again. She held out her wet hand to me.

I looked at it warily.

She smirked. "I suppose you know someone else who has spent a decade learning all about Claudine's particular sexual preferences in men who can help you with your little date?"

"What a pushy sex slave," I mumbled, and shook her hand.

"Were you referring to me, or you?" she asked, cackling. She gestured to my pants. "Now get naked and get in here with me."

"I thought you said the shower was too small for both of us?"

"Not if you're on your knees," she said.

"You haven't even begun to help me with the date yet," I said.

"What did I say about whining?!" Francesca said.

I sighed and pushed down my pants.

She smiled wide as she let me inside. The shower was tight, and the water pelted me as I knelt in front of Francesca. I gripped her thighs as she widened her legs and pulled me towards her.

"Good," Francesca said, grinning wide. "Now eat your tiramisu, virgin boy."