Finally

Chapter 16 - Jean

Jean and I have plans to meet at a bar in town. I shower and put on my hot pink lace all in one underwear, it’s super sexy and it’s the mood I’m in tonight.

I pull on a high neck, short and clingy black dress with some silver heels that are high and slim.  It shows off my legs which I like, I’m hoping he will too.

As I’m heading out the door I get a text in the group chat I have with my parents.

How are you?

Do they actually care? I reply:

Fine. I’ve got a part time job, I start Monday and I’m seeing a counsellor.

That should be enough to get them off my back temporarily.

I arrive at the bar and look for Jean, he told me he’s wearing burgundy trousers and a black shirt and a man meeting that description is sat by the bar.

There he is and his photo does him justice, he’s hot. His floppy black hair is neatly styled and blue eyes twinkle as he sees me.

“Zara,” he greets with his thick accent and kisses my cheek.

“Hi,” I reply shyly.

“Drink?” He asks, his accent making me melt like chocolate on a warm summer’s day.

“Gin and tonic please,” I ask.

He orders for me and then we grab a table together.

We chat nervously at first and then he sees me eyeing the cocktail menu and suggests we try something new.

“Between the sheets?” He suggests cheekily, pointing to a cocktail with that name on this list.

“Sounds good,” I purr in response.

I can flirt just as well as he can.

The cocktail comes in a huge glass bowl with two straws. It’s enormous but delicious and when we both take a sip we’re inches away from each other.

He looks up from his straw and meets my eyes, his eyes are like sapphires burning into my soul. He’s exactly what I’m looking for, hot, sexy and fun.

We chat about my new job, but I don’t give any details about my past, that’s far too much for a first date or any date at the moment, I don't want a relationship.

He tells me about his job as an architect, he’s helping design a new office block in Canary Wharf which sounds exciting.

The enormous bowl is empty by the end of our conversation so he orders another, I offer to pay, but he refuses.

By the time it arrives I’m feeling a little tingly from the alcohol having not drunk much in a long time. He looks at me again while we take a long drag on the straw and this time as we come up he kisses me on the lips. It’s a soft kiss, like he’s testing the water. I return it and I feel his lips curl into a smile.

I move closer to him and he kisses me more firmly, wrapping an arm around my waist. It’s soft and tender, I’ve not been kissed this gently, or at all, in a while.

We chat, drink and kiss a little more and when the bowl is empty he asks me if I’d like another or to go back to his for coffee.

‘Coffee’ I know what that means, but I’m up for it. I like him and he seems sweet, he’s sexy, easy on the eye and not at all pushy. He could be my friend with benefits. Plus if I have any more to drink I'll be unable to walk let alone do anything else.

“Sounds good, I like coffee,” I say with a wink.

He smiles and looks a little shy at my boldness, but takes me by the hand and leads me out into the crisp, dark night.

We take a cab to his apartment, he lives quite central in an amazing looking block. I’m not surprised that an architect would have an apartment in such an interesting building.  It has huge steel panels that curve as they run down the building which is covered in huge windows, many of which are lit.

We take the elevator to the eleventh floor and step out into a long hallway. He opens his door and I step inside.

His living room is huge, but minimal with just two enormous brown leather sofas and some wooden tables. There’s no tv, but a huge rolled up screen and projector.

He takes my jacket and I sit on one of the sofas, he goes to hang it in the hallway and returns with two glasses of brown liquid.

“This is the best whisky I’ve ever tasted,” he claims.

I sip it and he’s right, it’s pretty good. It’s smooth and smoky and it hits a spot I didn’t know a drink could hit.

“It’s really good!” I exclaim, but don't take any more because I know I've reached my safe limit alcohol wise.

He smiles one of his sexy, bright smiles and kisses me.  This time with no audience, I kiss him back more passionately and he wraps his arms around me.

His hand slides up the back of my leg all the way to the top and grabs a cheek, I giggle into his mouth.

“Between the sheets?” He drawls then laughs.

I nod and he takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom.

His bed is huge and very masculine, pale grey sheets and no cushions or extra pillows. He removes my dress and lays me down on the bed.

“Très belle, très sexy,” he whispers seeing my hot pink lace ensemble.

He kisses down my chest to my breasts and I feel my n*****s harden under his touch. I’ve missed being touched like this.

He takes his shirt off and his body isn’t bad, he’s no Adam, but he’s got a decent physique. Why do I have to think about Adam now? I’m doing this to get over him. Maybe after enough new bodies and time I’ll stop comparing everyone to him.

Jean strokes the length of my body and my legs squeeze together as he strokes the edge of the lace covering my flower. My body is reacting to his touch, that’s something at least even if I’m still getting thoughts of my ex.

He removes his smart pants slowly giving me a show, he’s confident I’ll give him that. I can already see the bulge in his tight underwear that’s growing by the second and my eyes light up. 

I move forwards to stoke him and as I cup his balls he lets out a low deep groan. I pull out my prize and wrap my mouth tightly around his length his muscles tightening as I lick teasingly  then devour him again making long wet marks on my way.

I love doing this, I’m in control and it makes me feel powerful. It’s my speciality and I know I’m good at it.

He’s vocal with his appreciation, telling me how good it feels being inside my hot, wet mouth.

“It’d feel even better inside you,” he moans.

I let him go before I take it too far and he flips me over onto my hands and knees.

“This can stay on, it’s hot,” he tells me referring to my lingerie.

He pulls the thong aside and his fingers explore between my legs before he dips a finger inside me. He strokes gently before pulling out and sucking his finger.

“You taste so sweet,” he growls before plunging back into me and adding a second finger.

“So tight and wet, I want to feel you.”

I hear him unwrap a condom I didn’t even see him get and he puts it on quickly.

He enters me slowly and it feels so good to be this close to someone after so long. He thrusts hard and it is a mixture of pleasure and pain, but I love it. He holds my hips tight pulling me back into him, while I try to regain some control.

Finally when I’ve got used to it I start to push back on him and join him in a rhythm. Our bodies work in harmony together and I feel the sweat starting to form on my skin as we work hard to please each other.

“I’m getting close,” he moans. “Touch yourself for me, I want to feel you come.”

I do as I’m told and put my hand between legs and use the wetness there to lubricate my delicate bead, rubbing in small circular motions. As he speeds up so do I and before long I feel the tightness in my muscles and the ache signalling I’m almost there.

Our moans fill the room as we start to reach a peak.

“Yes, right there. Keep going I’m there,” I shout out.

He shouts something in French I don’t understand, but it’s hot as hell and it sends me over the edge. My vision disappears and there’s a fuzziness in my brain as he rides the waves of my orgasm, my rippling muscles massaging every last drop of his climax out of him.

We fall back onto the bed, breathless and sweaty. We lie there panting until we find our voices again, then talk comfortably for about an hour.

He asks me to stay and since I’m quite far from home and it’s late I agree. It’s not something I’d normally do with someone I wanted to keep at a distance, but he seems nice and I’ve only thought about Adam once since meeting him so he’s got to be doing something right.

I fall asleep wondering what date number three will bring.