‘Oh, thanks. Means a lot at nine in the morning.’ I giggled. In a manly way, of course.
The taxi stopped at a very narrow, one-way street. Jimmy paid in cash; he seemed to have quite a lot of euros in his wallet.
As a Londoner I’d often forget cash existed. I grabbed my bag and got out of the car.
‘This is the door,’ Jimmy said while pointing at a big black gate.
Seemed promising. We walked through it, to then open another door, a brown one which led to some of the tiniest and steepest steps I had ever seen, even by Parisian standards.
‘Nicolas lives on the top floor, so it’s quite a walk.’ He laughed, slightly out of breath.
‘I haven’t done cardio in weeks. You’re honestly doing me a favour,’ I blurted, while also being out of breath. He was walking in front of me, with his arse right on my face. I was impressed. He was clearly someone who rode a bike. Or younger guys, as it would turn out. He had keys to the flat, so we quickly got in. No one was home.
‘Nicolas handles a couple of properties used for Airbnb,’ he explained. ‘He will be home later, but our room is over there,’ he said while pointing at the nearest door.
The flat was spacious. There were a lot of newspaper articles hanging on the walls. It was Nicolas’ boyfriend’s work. He was a journalist. Every surface had a fair share of memorabilia, especially Roman little statues. Not too atypical for a gay home. The ceiling was made of large dark brown wooden panels. It looked nothing like it did on the outside. Cosy place, much better than any hotel room. Unless these guys turned out to be annoying as fuck.
I walked into the room and put my bag on the bed. He came into the room as well and closed the door behind him.
‘Do you need help with unpacking?’ he asked.
I looked down at my tiny bag with barely two changes of clothes and a few pairs of underwear and refused.
‘Are we going to go out and explore?’ I asked, excited to have some food.
‘Yeah, absolutely,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Can I kiss you?’
That came out of nowhere.
‘Sure,’ I conceded.
He came close to me and gave me a soft, light kiss with some tongue. Bad kisser. He went for it again, this time with a bit more energy. Still bad, but not horrendous. I could feel his hands grabbing my crotch; he wasn’t just after a kiss. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but as soon as he knelt to get my zipper down, I knew he wanted to blow me.
‘Can I?’ He looked up, with puppy eyes.
I was sitting on a train for three hours, so I wasn’t fully sure what I was brewing in the smell department, but alas, I let him do his thing. My cock was hard, and he latched on it straight away with his small mouth. It felt good; he knew what he was doing. He may have been a god-awful kisser, but he certainly knew his way around a man’s member. He was sucking hard and fast; he wanted me to come quickly. I hadn’t masturbated in a few days, so I was ready almost instantly. I warned him, as that seemed like the polite thing to do, but he seemed like he couldn’t get enough. I grabbed the back of his head and shot my load straight down his throat. He moaned. I shot two or three loads and released my grip on his head.
‘Nice,’ he said while wiping his lips.
If that was going to be the theme of the weekend, I was in for a fine time.
‘Want me to…?’ I asked, without much intention of doing anything.
‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘Later this evening,’ and left the room.
I zipped myself back up, my cock still semi-hard for the impromptu suckatron. I was flustered. And starving.
Paris looked whimsical, far better than it did when I visited with Jake. It rained all day then, and I had brought a cold from London. There was no sexiness in the so-called most romantic city in the world. This time, though, the sun was warm and blinding. I was wearing a striped t-shirt to keep up the French theme. Jimmy looked smitten as he walked next to me.
‘I used to walk down this road all the time, when I lived here,’ he declared with pride.
‘What made you leave?’ I asked, confused by the bizarre choice of leaving Paris for a minor city in Germany.
‘Purely work,’ he groaned. ‘They offered a lot more money for me to move out there, so I just took it. I lived in Tunisia for a few months too, same reason.’
I was surprised. This guy had been around.
‘How was that?’
He gave out a little chuckle. ‘It was interesting. Being gay there was a bit of a hassle, but it’s always surprising to see how many there are.’
I thought it was an interesting way to describe a country.
‘So, the sexual aspect is the make or break feature of your favourite place to live?’ I teased.
‘Ha, not necessarily,’ he confessed. ‘After all, I can always get a fit guy like you delivered to me.’ He winked.
I got the joke, but yikes.
‘I’m joking, by the way,’ he reassured, while putting his hand behind my neck.
I laughed too, as I didn’t want him to think I had zero sense of humour. I probably would have made a similar joke myself. If I were a freak.
‘Where the heck are you?’ popped on my phone screen.
I hadn’t texted Sara in a few days, and that was unusual for us. I didn’t like lying to her, so for some reason I’d find not talking to her a better option. Also, she knew I couldn’t afford to go out of town, so she’d ask for specifics.
I needed to say something.
‘Hey, baby girl. Just been busy this week. Catch up next week?’
Easy enough. Sara would worry too much about my state of mind.
‘So, what do you do, apart from working at a department store that you hate? What do you like doing?’ Jimmy asked.
What did I like doing? ‘I wish I was the kind of person who’d answer something like ‘going out,’ or ‘playing sports,’ but I mainly like playing video games, drinking wine and eating. Oh, and I try to go to the gym. I don’t enjoy it. I just feel like I have to do it. Gay code.’
He smiled. His eyes closed when he smiled. It was endearing.
‘No hobbies?’ he asked.
‘I used to write quite a lot when I was younger, but I don’t have much inspiration lately…’
‘That’s interesting. Write what?’
‘Oh, I’d take inspiration from real-life events and I would turn them into allegories. I have never finished anything, though.’
‘You should give it one more shot. It would be silly not to.’
I sighed.
‘What about you? Apart from giving spectacular blow jobs?’ I smirked.
His eyes were shining. ‘I enjoy travelling very much. I get lonely a lot and going to places and meeting new people is what I love the most,’ he said.
‘So, what do we have planned for tonight?’ I asked while running my hand through my hair. Guys seemed to like my thick, dark brown hair. Something many of the men I was meeting didn’t possess.
‘We’ll go for dinner with my friend, if that’s okay with you.’
I was curious to meet his friend, so I was game.
‘Maybe we’ll have a drink at a gay bar or something,’
Good stuff. It was already shaping up as a much better weekend than my little Bulgarian trip.