Reminiscing About That Night In Paris

I worked in the Treasury Department and that trip was my first ever overseas experience. New passport, long haul across the pond in Business Class, the Eiffel Tower. I was excited, 26 and full of myself. I had studied hard, earned my MBA and now I was putting it to work. We checked in, my work mate, a lawyer in the international division, checked in for us, he gave me a key card and we followed the bellman to the room. The, as in one, room. I was frozen.

This man, half French half Mexican, was the hot international M&A lawyer. He was the one who had convinced my boss about the trip. He tipped the bellman and closed the door. He told me to shower. His look was enough to get me get going. I knew instantly what was going on, why I was there, and I froze in the shower. Get showered and dressed he ordered, we had a lunch meeting with the local law firm. In the cab on the way to the lawyers he told me he expected me to be professional, distant, uncaring.

We shut down early, a drink in the bar, dinner in the dining room, back to our room. He gave me the side closest to the bathroom, he showered again, walked out in boxers, asked me if I was going to shower, in France women presented themselves freshly bathed. When I came out of the shower, in the robe, the bed was turned down, he was clearing his phone, he turned off the lights and got in on his side, I dropped my robe and got in beside him, to face my fate.

It was glorious, nothing prepares you for that experience, no boy, this was a man with lots of experience. Like a musician with his instrument, he played with me. Between small near orgasms, to a final orgasm timed for him to finish, I went to sleep. All that stuff back at the office, the little g*fts on my desk, the flowers for my birthday, the small kisses, the promises of a night to remember. I just never imagined it would be in Paris.