I was in Paris in my first year of college and was excited to meet the new people. As usual, I walked casually from the parking lot to the entrance to the student dormitory. Well located near the city center but a bit outdated, it was a typical French block building from the seventies: without an elevator, functional and rather ugly.
A young, attractive, brown-haired student was waiting at the entrance, fully loaded with several shopping bags. She seemed new but still confident. In almost accent-free French and with big doe eyes, she asks me to carry the bags to the third floor for her. I looked at her from top to bottom for what felt like a long time: I looked at her thin legs and strong ass, pretty face but incredibly long brown well-groomed hair paired with clear skin and nice face. “Finally something other than pimply first-year women,” thought Raphael.
She blushed because she understood what I was imagining. She tried to make her request to me again, only this time with more batting of the eyelashes. A slightly German or Eastern European accent came to light. “That whore,” I thought to myself. “Carry your things yourself,” I replied with a friendly smile and a slightly arrogant tone and thought, “Welcome to France.” She stood rooted to the spot and looked at me, angry but also interested. She didn’t expect such a reaction. In Germany she would have driven any man crazy with that look. She often got bored when men did everything she said and tried to hit on her tactlessly and rudely. Like she’s a cheap whore on the prowl…
The next morning I went to the communal kitchen. In sweatpants and topless. Years of swimming and fencing gave me a toned upper body. I was early and the French are usually still asleep at that time. She was already sitting at the neatly set table with two other girls and had breakfast: egg, ham, bread, sausage, mustard. “What barbarians, these Germans, to stuff themselves with meat so early in the morning.” She looked interested while the other two girls stared at me. Both were pretty in their own way: one with a model figure and curly hair and the other a bit curvy and shy but also hot.
The curly-haired woman introduced herself in a horrible voice. It turned out that my acquaintance from yesterday and you are in my course of study. I politely introduced myself to the pain in the ass and asked the fat woman what her name was. She nervously explained that her name was Eva and that she was only completing one semester in Paris. At home in Germany she lives with her boyfriend. When I heard the keyword “boyfriend,” my heart pounded and I flashed a charming smile at her. “I’ll send it back to Germany to its engraver at operating temperature,” I thought to myself and winked at her. When my acquaintance from yesterday wanted to introduce himself, I interrupted briefly and walked out of the kitchen. It was now the second time that she looked after me.
The first three weeks passed and the people from the dorm and the course got to know each other at parties and in bars. As usual, people quickly connected with each other on social media. Eva sent me a friend request. “That was quick,” I thought to myself. Yesterday I had a purely friendly conversation with you all evening about culture, the region and how much Germans and French people have in common. I wrote to her straight away: would you like to go to the swimming pool this evening? The answer came 5 minutes later: Yes, of course, my roommate is coming with me. That’s possible, isn’t it? I had completely forgotten about it. Yesterday at the bar, a guy was buzzing around you the whole time. He introduced himself as her buddy and was her engraver’s best friend. “Great,” I thought to myself. Nevertheless, we met at the dorm parking lot at 4 p.m.
Quickly changed, the three of us met at the swimming pool. Eva was really curvy and cuddly. She looked at me shyly as I examined her. After a few lengths, Eva and I took a short break at the edge of the pool. “It’s important to find the rhythm with your arms when swimming breaststroke,” I said out loud. “Wait-I’ll show you” and stand behind her. We stood with our right leg on the edge of the pool, while our left was unsupported in the water. I skillfully grasped her hip with my left hand and instructed her to circle her arms. She couldn’t help but position her pelvis backwards and our sexes touched closely. She moaned and I also noticed how my erection was growing. “Hello – you don’t swim anymore,” the idiot interrupted us. “What an idiot” I thought to myself and hugged Eva, who was standing firmly on both feet again while I said with a smile: “Yes, this is probably the first German-French swimming lesson in Paris”. He didn’t notice anything but Eva was still completely electrified. Nevertheless, I noticed how she enjoyed the hug.
That same evening I wrote to her online: “Next time, instead of swimming lessons, I’ll kiss you! Should I come down to the second floor for that?”. She was online but no response followed. “Well,” I thought to myself, “all or nothing.”
A week passed and Eva didn’t respond to my short, charming messages. On Saturday evening it was that time again. When I arrived at the bar, my boyfriend was already waiting for me, completely drunk. “Eva and I drank too much,” he purred happily. I immediately grabbed Eva and asked her if I should take her home. “Yes,” she said, smiling. Hand in hand we left the city center towards the dormitory when suddenly her curly-haired friend with the brutal voice ran into us. Unsuspecting, she accompanied us back to the dormitory and told us all the details of her evening yoga course. Shortly before the dormitory entrance, almost at the same time, Eva and I got dressed and kissed deeply. The curly girl froze, stood next to us embarrassed for about 5 seconds and went to her room shaking her head.
“Finally” I said and led you to my room. She stopped briefly and said “Raphael..” “I know,” I interrupted her and we took off our clothes. I kissed her all over and whispered soft compliments in French in her ear. Almost unnoticed, a single tear of joy flowed from her right eye. She opened her thighs wide and showed me her neglected vagina. I slowly kissed her right leg that was stretched out towards me. I slowly moved towards the foot and she moaned louder and louder. As I caressed her toe with pleasure in my mouth, I skillfully leaned my hips forward and penetrated her. She trembled with every thrust and it didn’t take a minute before we both came, stretching our bodies towards each other. After 20 seconds she jumped on top of me and kissed me deeply. “Thank you” she sighed “this was my first orgasm” she said in English. I looked at you in disbelief “but your boyfriend?”. Annoyed, she explained that after years of dating, her boyfriend was still taking her with quick thrusts missionary or from behind. “He fucks for his two minutes and that’s it,” she said, her shyness no longer showing. “Well then, be careful,” I thought, turned her around and started licking her asshole. She immediately moaned loudly this time.
This lasted a full 8 days. We secretly met 4 times during that time and loved each other deeply. On the last morning before she went home, I came deep inside her when, not a minute later, she started crying “my friend…”. “What happens in Paris stays in Paris,” I said with a calm voice and a serious look. “Yes,” she sighed and ran down the stairs where her half-blind friend was waiting for her in the car. As they drove off, Raphael couldn’t help but grin: “Apparently my sperm doesn’t stay in Paris.”
The next two weeks passed in stressful learning. The final exams were scheduled for the end of December and mid-January. I worked every day in a study group with the curly-haired girl and Joleen, the name of my first pretty acquaintance. It didn’t take three days until I couldn’t resist Joleen anymore. Whenever I could, I winked at her and showed my charming side. Now it was she who turned me away cold. Her long, well-groomed hair and her clear skin drove me crazy. She originally comes from Poland, but grew up in Germany from the age of 7. Her foreign accent in French gave her an added charm.
I immediately asked the curly-haired woman if Joleen was having a romance in Paris. With a very familiar look of horror on her face, she denied it. In the next step, she smiled smugly and explained that Joleen had been engaged to a 35-year-old African-American man for three years. “He’s also a manager at a car company,” the stupid cow croaked. “and I’ll soon manage his fiancée” I thought mischievously to myself.
For the holidays, everyone went home, still stressed. At the beginning of January I was sitting alone with the curly girl in the library. “Joleen isn’t feeling well,” she said quietly. “She had an argument with Levin – his family doesn’t want him to start a family with a white woman. They think Joleen is some kind of communist. Unbelievable, right?” “Really sad, really discriminatory something like that,” I added.
For the next few days we sank into exam stress. The highest level of concentration was required in the exams every day. I left the last oral exam happy and exhausted. Dressed neatly in a suit, I met Joleen at the door. “Complete?” I asked. “Yes,” the curly-haired woman answered as she walked past me into the exam room, stressed and angry. She was the last.
Joleen and I stood facing each other and smiled at each other with relief. “I know what you did to Eva,” she mentioned shooting from the pistol. I blushed slightly and countered, “I know what your fiancé didn’t do to you.” Bright red, she looked down. Before she could react, I gently grabbed her chin and kissed her.
She tore my shirt in the middle of the hallway and we staggered into the next room kissing. On the professor’s desk I tore her tights and thong and pushed her skirt up. Horrified and then grinning, she dug her long, manicured fingernails into my back and bit my neck hard. “Ah,” I said when the croaking voice in the next room interrupted. In the 5 seconds of shock at being caught, the blood ran down my back and neck and even more blood ran down my penis. I’ve never had an erection like this before. “Shhh,” she hissed quietly, acting as if she had the situation under control. She relaxed and I penetrated her with my glans.
I started thrusting deep and hard. She clawed at my back with pleasure and whispered in German “No, wait – I haven’t taken the pill for months.” I didn’t understand and put my hand over her mouth. I didn’t want to get caught by the next room. She greedily sucked and licked my fingers. For a moment I looked into her eyes and then I came deep inside her. Her vagina sucked my sperm out of my penis demandingly and massaging. This time we kissed slowly and lovingly. “From now on I’ll carry everything for you,” I whispered in her ear. “And I will soon have a child from you,” she replied in German. Again I didn’t understand anything. The surprise came a few weeks later.
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