Chapter 7
Jeff left Antoinette's soon after the police had gone. He didn't want to stick around and see if the asshole of a next door neighbor had something else in store for them in the way of a hassle. He chuckled as he walked down the street, enjoying the sight of the twilight rapidly turning into chilly night around him.
The youth was pleased. He had guessed correctly about what it took to keep Antoinette occupied. And his talks with her about Francoise had given him an insight into how to attract the seemingly aloof and unapproachable girl.
Jeff wandered the streets, idly kicking at tin cans, tossing stones at stray dogs and watching the stars come out one by one. The evening star—it must have been Venus—was exceptionally bright.
Jeff, in the time-honored tradition, made a wish. "I wish that Francoise will be so hot for me, we can really get it on the first date!"
He had passed the stage of wondering if there would be a first date or not. He now knew he could swing that. What happened afterwards, well, that was up to fate.
Jeff slept restlessly during the night, his dreams filled with lovely visions of Antoinette
wantonly fucking herself on his dick that looked more like a telephone pole than a penis. As soon as that dream sequence ended, another started. This was similar in content, except it was Francoise wildly fucking herself on his mighty rod of lust.
When he awoke the next morning, the bed-sheets were a mess. Jeff silently vowed to get them into the wash himself. Explaining the stains could be difficult if he waited for his mother to do the weekly laundry.
At school, Jeff felt like a big game hunter. He stalked Francoise until he cornered her. The teenager took to heart the advice given him by Antoinette. He should try to make Francoise understand that he cared for her, that whatever they did was merely an excuse to be together and wasn't an end in itself.
"How's it going, Francoise?"
The French girl furrowed her brows slightly, then brightened. "I understand now. That is an idiom which constantly escapes me. Everything is going great. And how're you?"
"Lonesome for you." Jeff held his breath and waited.
"Lonesome? How do you mean?"
"I've been wanting to make sure you had a good look around the city, but you've been avoiding me. If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can go out and ask Katherine along. Make it a double date ... you know, two couples."
"Why do you think that would make me feel more comfortable?" the girl seemed honestly perplexed.
"I just thought that you've been turning me
down whenever I asked for a date because you didn't feel right about accepting. Maybe you thought I had evil intentions or something."
Francoise smiled radiantly. "You have no such intents?"
"Yes, of course I do. You're so breathtak-ingly beautiful any red-blooded male would have evil designs on you. But you must be interested in doing something or seeing something that you haven't gotten a chance to yet. I'd like to give you a guided tour, personal attention, first class." Jeff saw the indecision again in Francoise's eyes, those lovely deep green eyes, but this time the dilemma seemed to be arriving at a more satisfactory conclusion.
Jeff said, "I'm really afraid you aren't getting a chance to see everything you could in the U.S., and I wanted to make sure you had a good time while you're over there. . . ."
"Why? Why does it matter if I have a good time?"
The cat and mouse game was nearing an end.
Jeff seemed to ponder out the answer he had long since composed. "I guess I care about you and hate to see you miss out on anything that'd be fun."
"Well, Jeff, there is a movie I'd like to see." Francoise waited and when Jeff didn't say anything she finished, "It's by my favorite director, Bunuel. Belle de Jour—it's at the Art Movie Theatre."
"If that's what you want, that's what you'll get, mademoiselle! What say I come by and pick you up around seven?"
"That'd be just marvy! And see how well I pick your idioms up? See you at seven!" With a flash of golden hair, Francoise was off.
And Jeff was feeling pleased with himself. He had succeeded in getting the date. What was even more interesting was the choice of movie Francoise had made. Belle de Jour wasn't a pornographic movie by any means, but it was probably the single most erotic movie ever made. Even if everything else turned out a flop, Jeff was certain that the movie would go a long ways toward thawing out Francoise for him.
The day seemed to be years long—the seconds crept by so slowly they seemed drenched in molasses. But seven o'clock eventually rolled around and, at exactly the hour, Jeff presented himself at the front door of his date's house.
Francoise answered. That surprised him slightly. The usual runaround about making the male wait seemed to have been forgotten, or perhaps it had never been invented in France. Francoise was stunning, even more so than usual.
She was dressed in a chiffon outfit exactly the color of her eyes. The emerald green was startlingly effective and offset the platinum of her hair to good effect. With an almost electrostatic tenacity, the material clung to every curve and flare of the young girl's body. She could have passed as three years older with no problem.
It was obvious that her mother had helped in the selection of this outfit.
"Ready, Francoise?" Jeff was aroused to the point of an erection at the seductive sight
of those twin globes of tit pushing slightly upward out of the bodice of her dress, and he was also amused that the girl would be ready when he called for her.
"Certainly, mon anvil" Françoise offered him a creamy white, slender arm which Jeff readily took. He escorted her out to the car and in a few minutes they were driving to the theatre.
At first, Jeff didn't really know what to say. Françoise seemed to effervesce and bubble over tonight in contrast with their earlier meetings. She rattled on and on about France and her home there, what she hoped for out of life, in short, her life history. Jeff only had to nod occasionally and say "Yes" and "Really?" when Françoise paused to catch her breath.
In that short time, he had to admit he learned a great deal about France—and Françoise.
The line at the theatre was short. Not too many people seemed to be interested in seeing Luis Bunuel's films.
Françoise commented, "That is such a pity, for in France they would be lined up to the next block. He is such a great director."
Jeff had to agree. He hadn't seen too many foreign movies, but the ones he had he was able to discuss. By careful choice of subject, he had soon impressed Françoise with his knowledge, although it was meager and very limited.
They went into the theatre and, after finding out that Françoise didn't care for the greasy popcorn soaked in soybutter, Jeff started toward the main floor of the theatre.
Françoise gripped his arm and whispered,
"Is there a balcony? It is so much nicer when you are high."
Jeff chuckled, but didn't bother to tell her about the unintentional pun she'd made. If she wanted to go up to the balcony, that was fine with him. He idly wondered if going into the balcony meant the same thing in France as it usually did in the U.S. Jeff knew he'd soon find out.
"Sure thing. The stairs are over here." They walked up the narrow stairs arm in arm and found the balcony almost deserted. The main floor of the theatre was slowly filling, but only a couple of dozen people inhabited the upper tier. They selected seats about halfway back and in the center of the row.
The movie started and they watched in silence for a few minutes. Francoise leaned over and whispered into Jeff's ear, "Is she not beautiful?" She nodded to the actress on the screen. Jeff had to admit there was an aloofness, a cool sophistication about Catherine Deneuve that turned him on in a big way. He couldn't decide if it was the actress or Fran-coise's nearness that had given him back his erection.
Whichever it was, he meant to put it to good use.
He whispered back, "In comparison to you, she's ugly!"
"Jeff! But she is one of France's most gorgeous ..." Francoise's voice trailed off as she reached down and felt the growing bulge underneath Jeff's double knit trousers.
"That's for you, Francoise, all for you."
"Jeff!" Francoise sounded a bit disgusted.
Remembering the way Antoinette had been turned on in such a big way by the element of discovery, Jeff decided to see if it would work with her daughter. Francoise had settled back in her seat, arms crossed defiantly.
Jeff casually reached over and gripped Francoise's tender thigh with fierce intensity. She started to pull away, but he cautioned her. "Don't cry out. Everyone would stare at you. And they'd know exactly what you had been doing. You wouldn't want us to be thrown out of the theatre because you cried out, would you?"
A meek little "No," was the only answer.
Jeff continued to fondle the snowy white thigh. At first, Francoise's muscles were tensed against this familiarity. Gradually, as Jeff continued his stroking and caressing from the knee up along her inner thigh, never quite reaching the silk-encased pussy mound, Francoise began to relax. Soon, she wiggled over and allowed Jeff to rub against her pubic mound.
"Does that feel good, Francoise?"
"Merdel You know it does, you bastard!" Francoise was becoming turned on, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
Jeff continued to fondle the tender thighs with his right hand while his left encircled Francoise's shoulders.
From that position, he could lace his fingers through the golden forest of her hair. Gentle stroking of her hair seemed to have as much of an effect on her as anything else.
Jeff bent over slightly, his eyes on the bulges of melon-sized tits oozing out of the top of her
dress. He decided that he had best stick with his initial purpose. He kissed Francoise fully on the lips.
Again, Francoise was stiff and unresponsive at first. Gentle manipulations along her leg and on her knee, coupled with the stroking of her soft hair, relaxed her once again. Soon she was returning the kiss with the fervor with which it was given.
Jeff's tongue flicked out and darted into Francoise's mouth. Her tongue seemed to be able to position itself quickly and with just the right force to stroke the underside of his when he darted into her oral cavern. His organ of taste was tickled and tantalized by the feathery touches of the girl's tongue along the bottomside of his.
Francoise was so sexy she was even making his tongue hard!
The elixir of Francoise's mouth was heady and intoxicating. Jeff's hard-on quivered and demanded to be released from the cloth prison which prevented its escape. As he jerked and twitched, the dull ache of a full-fledged need was building in his loins. He'd surely blast out his load of come if he didn't do something more than just fool around with his hand running up and down the girl's leg and a bit of tongue-diddling.
Jeff unzipped his trousers, and his cock snapped out like the button had been pushed on a switchblade. Tall and proud, his dong protruded from his trousers. In the dim light, it appeared to be black, hidden in deep shadow. But Francoise could see its purpled top, the
crown of his staff that promised untold joys if she'd accept its offer.
To make sure, Jeff whispered again, "Remember. Stay quiet or everyone in the place will be down on us. And the ushers have flashlights. We could be spotlighted by a couple of them at any minute if you called out."
A cool hand drifted down to his shaft and encircled it. Françoise told him, "I know. Don't worry about me." She squeezed a bit, then started to stroke up and down, pulling the loose skin along with her hand. The dryness irritated his sensitive rod, but he wasn't going to complain. Françoise seemed at last to be turning on to him.
When his hand felt the silk panties again, he knew he was right. A large damp spot had spread out and her undies were soggy with her lust. Jeff ground his hand into the pussy mound with a fierce power. Instead of protesting, Françoise shoved her hips forward to grind his palm even more forcefully into her furred mons veneris.
She began a low, lilting moan that carried throughout the balcony. Several people looked, and Jeff pointed this out to Françoise. He felt an extra flood of cunt juices gush forth when Françoise saw that he was right and that people were staring at them.
The danger of discovery was the key to Françoise just as it had been with her mother. Jeff was proud of himself. Now all he had to do was harness this and see where it would lead.
As Françoise lifted her hips when he reached under her ass, the sudden inspiration hit him again. Jeff's fingers quickly looped over the
tops of Francoise's silken panties and he pulled. The girl gave a startled yelp as she felt her undies slipping over the broad expanse of her ass, then sail off and down her legs.
In a split second, Jeff had gotten the girl out of her underwear. Again he told her, "Don't raise a fuss. How could you ever explain how you happened to have your panties off?"
The logic of the situation never penetrated Francoise's sex-numbed brain. She'd never have to recount how she'd lost them, not unless she happened to be caught in some particular act that would expose her lovely buttocks, so well formed, to the world.
Naked and exposed under her dress, Francoise's body was wracked with a cold shiver of anticipation. When Jeff's finger began to trace along her gash, she shivered again, but it wasn't a cold shiver. It felt as if she had been seared with a branding iron wherever he touched her. The flowing sex slash between the French girl's well-formed legs was beginning to ache, to hunger for something more than finger-fucking.
"Jeff," Francoise urgently whispered, "I need you. Now! I want you inside me!"
"Quiet, love. Let's just watch the picture for a while." Jeff was as hot and ready as she was, but he had to string her along, reinforce the idea of danger. When she climaxed, it would be all the more satisfying for both of them. And Jeff had to admit, he relished the feeling of power he wielded over the girl.
The high school student continued to flex his finger inside her cunt. Francoise moaned almost continuously now, shoving her hips down
onto Jeffs finger. The teenage boy didn't seem to notice, even when Francoise gripped down especially hard on his cock.
When his iron rod began to buck and jerk back and forth, Jeff knew that he'd have to get off soon. His control was slipping. It did no good to look at the screen because the movie was about as erotic as what was going on next to him.
Francoise seemed as aroused as he was. "Please, Jeff, I need you!"
"Quiet!" he snapped. "Just stand up and sit down on my lap. Straddle my cock and shove it as far up your quim as you can!"
He slid forward in the seat, his legs straight in front of him. Francoise quickly obeyed. She faced the screen and, legs outside his tightly clenched ones, seemed to sit down.
That's the way it appeared to the others in the balcony. That wasn't the way it felt to Jeff. His cock vanished up the fiery hot cunt of the girl and remained trapped in the blast furnace of her desires. He was surrounded by a wetness, a heat that approached that of the core of a star, a compression that would turn his prick into solid diamond if it remained there long enough. The teenager uttered a low-pitched groan and settled back even further in his seat.
Jeff positioned his hands on Francoise's hips and began to guide her up and down on his prod. She was more than content to start slowly at first, then pick up the tempo. His entry into her body had been precipitous, sudden and forceful. The French teenager had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out loudly when Jeff's massive prong compressed her al-
ready blood-filled vulva and tried to bend the outer lips into her cuntal channel.
Once it was inside, however, Francoise felt filled, content. The long male invader rested easily in her tight vagina. She tensed her stomach muscles a few times to give Jeff a loving indication that she appreciated him inside her. A subtle warmth suffused throughout her being, hinting at the blaze that could be ignited at any instant in her belly.
Francoise felt Jeff's strong hands on her waist urging her up and down. She straightened her legs until she felt only the very tip of his dong inside her. Then Francoise dropped, allowing gravity to do the work. She heard him moan as she slammed down into his crotch, but the reaction in her own body was even more demanding. The sexy blonde seemed to take an extra inch of him inside her twat. Each drop thrust his lust staff deeper and deeper and aroused her more and more.
"Careful, Francoise, I think people are watching!" Jeff whispered, sotto voce.
It was a lie. He couldn't see past the chiffon of her dress, and his vision was increasingly blurred with lust as she fucked herself on his cock. The dull ache in his balls had long since turned into a raging fire. Jeff knew that he would soon explode and blow his balls off into the girl's eagerly awaiting cunt.
Francoise didn't seem to realize that Jeff was virtually blind. She accepted his appraisal that people might be watching as the gospel truth. She began fucking herself faster and faster along his length. She felt it slither out, then ram home into her belly again and again.
His hands guided her motions, kept her from slipping to one side or from allowing his rigid length to leave her body.
Francoise was growing frantic with lust. People were watching. She had to continue this wanton public fucking, however. Her body wouldn't let her stop now. Faster and faster she moved on his long pole, until her breath was coming in long, gasping drafts.
She was completely filled with Jeff's length, and she loved it. The danger that someone might be watching added impetus to her fucking. The French student was bound to be discovered.
The friction inside her cunt was excruciating. It was delightful. It was torture. It was undiluted joy. The conflicting sensations assaulted her mind, and finally her body seemed to explode with a cataclysmic fury. Francoise bit down on her lower lip to prevent a loud outcry that would definitely have attracted attention.
The pounding waves of carnal oceans smashed against her shores and washed against her mind. The girl was carried along on the torrents and tides until she managed to slow down her frenetic fucking.
She rested, still sitting across Jeff's lap. Somewhere along the line, he had blasted forth his come and had had his orgasm. Francoise felt the heated river of his pearly semen trickle past the plug of his still rigid cock and dribble on down her inner thigh.
With an easy grace that wasn't easy to display in the tight-packed rows of seats in the
theatre, Francoise disengaged herself and settled back into the seat beside Jeff.
Anxiously, she whispered, "Did anyone notice?"
Jeff didn't give a damn, but said, "Yeah, I'm afraid so. That old fart over there was watching us the entire time." The guy in question seemed to have fallen asleep, but Francoise didn't notice.
"Wow !" was her only comment.
Jeff smiled as he zipped up his trousers and put his limp penis to bed. "Yeah," he agreed, "Wow!"