She Saw Me Coming She Manipulated Me She Caught Me Hog Tied & Married

I was asked to hand carry a sensitive document to the Congo. I flew to Paris and Paris down. The Flight Attendant on the leg to the Congo was nice and chatty (the plane was mostly quiet or asleep). It turns out that her stayover hotel is the same as mine. I see her in the lobby at check in and she smiles at me. I don't know, but in America that means they like you, but French girls are always so sexy and flirtatious.

In the morning, around ten, I get up and to get some breakfast and coffee. I'm sitting by the window and see the girl come out to the pool in her bikini and grabs recliner. French girls are small, real small girls. She looks like she's twelve in that bikini, tiny little ass and almost nothing up top. I grab my coffee and meander out to the pool area, come up on her and ask her if she remembers me. While I'm standing she asks me to help her sit up, and she undoes her bikini top and goes topless, leans back and asks me to move so she can get some sun.

She carries on a conversation like nothing is wrong here. She has nice tiny titties with small pink nipples. Again she reminds me of a twelve year old going through puberty. She asks if I'm going to stand there will I rub some sun screen on her. Back. She does the front, and takes special care around the titties. If they burn, she says, it's miserable so she is always careful with her titties. I have to go, my car will be there in twenty minutes. I tell her that I'm off but should be back in an hour, how about lunch? Sure, she says, look her up in her room, number xxxx.

I call her room, she says come up. I knock and she's in her underwear, tiny panties and bra, which she could do just as well with a camisole. Do you like me, she asks. I do, I tell her she is the first French girl who has actually talked to me. She says she likes Americans, they are more direct that Frenchmen. She dresses in front of me and we go down to the front desk and I have a car take us to a restaurant by the beach, mostly for expats. We have a nice lunch, a glass of French wine, we go for a short walk on the beach, carrying our shoes. Out of direct site of the restaurant she stops and asks me if I want to kiss her. I do. I kiss her. She wants more, she wants to be held hard, crushed and kissed. She says that she needs me to relieve her of her sexual frustrations, can i take her back to the hotel.

She's a master at handling my cock, she rubs it down with some oils she has, and sucks me and plays like a two year old with a new toy laughing. She fucks alright, she's into it. Her little pussy, her tiny little ass, her little girl titties, but her legs spread open she takes my cock right in, and she pretends to gag from it. We fuck for an hour. She gives me a long blowjob and tells me she is on the flight at seven so she has to get ready. I offer her my business card, in case she is in the States to look me up.

I get a call from a lawyer, she is suing for child support. The lawyer has CCTV pictures of me standing beside her at the pool when she's topless, of having lunch with her, of kissing on the beach, of walking into her room after lunch. Just pay the child support. And nothing will come out of it, the pictures won't be shown to anybody. Just pay the child support. I ask for a DNA test, which comes back positive. I fly to France, to face her.

She is at home on maternity leave, with her mother. Another small woman, they are so small I can't get over it. I ask her, why sue me. With French understatement, If I loved her I would have looked her up, but obviously I have another woman. French women get married when they are pregnant so I had already embarrassed her with her family. It crosses my mind, in some ways she's all adult, she is all active sexually, but somewhere in her she is still a little girl. We would say she isn't mature. She isn't. Sorry.

I agree to marry her on the condition she move to the States and she set herself up to have more children. Married girls have children she tells me, I don't have to ask. A French wedding takes months to plan, and with a foreigner to get all the permissions. I have to convert she tells me. I can't do that so I have to go to special classes, in French. From the day I saw her again to the day we got married was over nine months, as long as a baby.

She likes Americans, she likes America and now she is here living, just like she planned it (i think). English classes and growing another baby.