THE PARIS BISTRO SeXStoRY

THE PARIS BISTRO – based on a personal experience Even though I was hungry by 7PM, I had waited patiently knowing that Paris restaurants served dinner late. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by arriving before the chef did. If I had known, I would have begun to hunt for a restaurant earlier. Most of the ones in the area of my hotel were expensive and I had to settle, after walking what felt like hours, for a rather ordinary looking bistro located on a quiet side street. The menu was simple but inexpensive. Tables were round, made of dark wood, and close together. Lights were dim and I sat down without looking much at the surroundings. After my eyes were used to the lighting, or lack of, I notice a man a few tables from mine, reading a newspaper and sipping a glass of wine. He was actually in the next row of tables and three tables away, but facing me. The man and I looked at each other for a minute then he folded his newspaper and asked for the menu. I pretended to scrutinize the menu which was handed to me but I was actually watching my distant dinner companion. He was probably my age, in his 50s, with a round face, slightly flushed like one often sees in the French countryside. My mother used to say it was caused by wine drinking, too much of it in fact. His hair was neither short nor long and black with a few spots of grey near the temples. Although he was sitting, I could imagine him stocky and rather short. He wore a brown jacket which was quite old and had grown too tight for him. There was something pleasant and rather attractive about him. I suddenly noticed my cock had grown to a semi-erection. I slid my hand quietly under the table and pushed my cock into my undergarments so it wouldn’t make a spot on my trousers. The man must have seen my manoeuvre since he slid his own hand under the table where it disappeared from view. We looked at each other and he a faint smile came over his face. I wondered if he was attracted to me. As I pursued my interrogation, the waiter stood beside me and asked in an effeminate voice what I wanted to eat. His mid-section was inches from my face. I looked up at him and he fluttered his eyelashes. If my dinner companion had not been there, I would have pursued the conversation, making a lewd joke or something, but my interest was somewhere else. After all, I wasn’t that hungry or was it that I was impatient to connect with another man as soon as possible. I ordered a chicken salad and a half-litre of wine and I watched my waiter walk towards the other man’s table. Those few seconds the waiter took to go from my table to the short man’s table were very important. First I looked at the waiter’s round buttocks pressing against his tight trousers and rolling as he walked to the other table, then the man at the other table noticed my interested glance and licked his lips, then I licked my lips looking at him in the eye, and finally the waiter looked at us both and a wide grin appeared on his face. From that moment on, the waiter knew he had a chance to make a little money if he made every effort to facilitate the contact between the short Frenchman and myself. He was a gentleman and a pro. He reminded me of a waiter I had known in Montparnasse many years ago when I first began travelling to Paris. His specialty was setting up meetings between older men and renting out his studio for afternoon trysts. But this is another story. The short Frenchman, which I will call Jacques since that was his name, and I silently decided to call a truce when the meal arrived. We began to eat and the meal was quite enjoyable. The truce was broken once when I sipped my wine and Jacques sipped his at the same time. We both licked our lips once we had put our glass on the table. My cock grew hard again. We were both gulping our wine much faster than we would have if we had been eating alone. After he cleared the tables, our waiter arrived with a coffee which was included in the meal. Usually French waiters place the check under the saucer. When I looked under the saucer, a note had replaced the check. Suce ? [suck ?] was written in pencil. Jacques looked at me to show he had written the note. Oui [yes], I wrote underneath his word The waiter, who was called Charlie, picked up the note and left it on Jacques’s table. I saw Jacques write something and Charlie pick it up. Actif ou passif ? [top or bottom ?] Actif [top], I wrote, although I wanted to explain that if he was a top also, we could still interact, but I realized that it would have been silly for me to write more. C’est bien [that’s good], finally came the answer, and the second line read ruelle [alley] I panicked for a few seconds. I didn’t know the area. Which alley did he mean ? But I realized that my fears were not founded when I saw Charlie lock the door behind the chef who had just walked out of the kitchen. Jacques got up and walked out the door leading to the kitchen. Charlie made a sign with his eyes to follow Jacques. I could see the man’s back as he turned out of the kitchen towards an exit door. Soon I found myself face to face with my short Frenchman in a very dark alley. It would have been a perfect scenario for a robbery, I thought. My initial fear soon vanished as I felt Jacques’s mouth cover mine and his tongue brushing against my teeth. As we kissed I made sure no one else was in the alley. It was deserted except for a few cats. On peut aller à l’hôtel ? [We can go to a hotel ?], I suggested. Non c’est plus excitant ici…tu veux ? [No, it’s more exciting here…you want to ?] I nodded. He was right. It was more exciting to have sex, half-dressed, in a dirty alley than in a comfortable bed in a hotel. By then we had both unzipped and had taken out our hard cock. We continued our tongue kissing while we wrapped our fingers around the other’s tool. From the corner of my eye, I could see Charlie’s silhouette standing a few feet from us. He was masturbating. Our sex act followed the usual scenario between a top and a bottom. Jacques fell to his knees and pulled down my trousers and my underpants. My cock flapped against his chin. I felt his warm mouth as he concentrated on licking my knob and my piss-slit. It must have tasted a little salty since I had pissed a few hours before. Jacques fondled my bag as he continued his sucking. When I was rock hard, he got up. He tried to hold me up when I got on my knees but I really wanted to taste his cock. Finally he gave up and pulled his trousers and underpants down. I kissed his knob and sucked on it then sucked on his balls. I slipped my hand between his legs and stroked his hairless buttocks, my fingers slipping into his ass-crack. His cock grew as my finger touched his hole. I got up and we stood there with our trousers around our ankles and kissed some more. Encules-moi [fuck my ass], he whispered Ici ? [here ?], I answered He didn’t bother answering as he made a cushion with his trousers and undergarments and knelt on them. I could see Charlie approaching us with his cock dangling, his trousers also around his ankles. Charlie stood behind Jacques, turned around and bent over, standing with his legs apart. When I saw Jacques’s face between the waiter’s buttocks, I plunged my hard tool into his waiting hole. I stopped for a moment, having heard a sound in the alley. Jacques turned away from Charlie’s ass and Charlie turned his head to look at me. I took out my cock from Jacques ass and the three of us looked for the source of the noise. About 20 feet from us, two alley cats ran across the alley. Reassured I resumed poking at Jacques’s ass. Jacques licked Charlie’s ass with renewed vigour, the waiter’s round little asscheeks spread wide on either side of the Frenchman’s face. I wish I could have also sucked on the waiter’s hole. I could hear Jacques’s muffled moan as I drilled my pecker inside him, slowly at first then extending full-length into him with a thrust of the hips. Charlie was masturbating, his legs shaking, as Jacques continued to lick his ass. I began to piston Jacques with a certain rhythm. My cock, feeling the warmth of his ass, began to grow bigger than I thought it could grow. Jacques lifted his face from Charlie’s ass for a minute and let out a scream as he came, his seed spurting from his cock onto the wet cement. Charlie turned around and stuck his cock into Jacques’s mouth and closed his eyes as Jacques took his full load. Strangely enough I was the last to cum, a few seconds after my lovers, but I shot a full load into Jacques and was fully satisfied. We put out trousers back on as we heard a few d***ks entering the alley a few hundred yards from us, and we made our way into the street. We parted without a word. A few years ago, I tried to find that bistro again, but without any luck. It may have been turned into a clothing store or a pastry shop. I wondered what had become of Jacques and Charlie. THE END