a slicked hand between his legs too. He was eager and experienced enough to know what to do. He turned

around, facing away from me and

I fucked him hard while he was on his knees, clutching the bed. All the while he was moaning little French

words, which sounded incredibly hot. My hands were on his hips as I was bucking against him and with

every stride he was grinding his ass against me, encouraging me to fuck him even harder. He stroked his

own dick while I was fucking him. We were both so horny that the whole ordeal took less than ten

minutes.

He came first and the contractions of his body made me go over the edge as well. In those last few

seconds I could think of nothing else than that I wanted him to be David. When I came it was with so much

force that I cried out loud. I felt totally exhausted and slumped against him.

Afterwards we lay in bed together on the damp sheets. Remi was smoking a cigarette. The air in the

apartment was hot and smelled of smoke. The tip of the cigarette glowed red in the dark, besides that I

could only see Remi’s vague contour.

“This was good, we should do this more often,” he said. “I’m glad I got your approval,” I replied. “You

were the best American lover I’ve ever had,” he said and exhaled some smoke. “How many Americans

did you sleep with then?” I asked and he pinched me lightly on the arm. “Just two, but you were definitely

the best.”

“Do you want me to go home?” I asked reluctantly. I really didn’t feel like getting up. I was tired and

the bed was nice and warm. “Non, you can stay,” he said and put out the cigarette in an ashtray that he

kept on his nightstand. “We should get some sleep,” he said and pulled the cover over our bodies

Although I was really tired, it took me a while to sleep. I always find it difficult to sleep when I’m not

in my own bed. My thoughts wandered and then I was thinking of David again. I wondered what he was

doing right now and if he missed me. I wondered if he thought of me too right after he’d fucked another

guy.

When I woke up the next morning, I was slightly disoriented. I lay on the ‘wrong’ side of the bed and

the room was brighter than I was used to. Remi was already up, standing in his briefs next to the opened

window smoking his first cigarette of the day.

He looked amazing with the morning light setting his skin aglow. He was darker skinned than me; he

had a sort of Mediterranean olive complexion and his white briefs contrasted with his skin tone nicely.

His slender frame looked young and athletic. I had no idea how old he actually was, but I guessed in his

early twenties.

When he saw that I was awake he tossed his cigarette bud out of the window and came back to bed to

kiss me. I’d never kissed anyone in the morning before without brushing me teeth and I felt self-conscious.

After a few seconds Remi released me from the kiss and gave me a sweet smile. “You can take a shower

if you want to,” he said. “I’ll make some coffee.”

I nodded and walked to the shower, which was no bigger, then a closet with a shower-head and a sink

in it. Through a narrow window you could look outside and I stared over the Parisian rooftops as I

washed my hair.

I brushed my teeth with Remi’s toothbrush, another thing that made me uncomfortable. I rinsed it out

properly and hoped he wouldn’t mind. When I came back to the living space of the apartment, there

weren’t actually any separate rooms, the smell of coffee made my stomach clinch. I picked up my clothes

from the floor where I’d left them the night before. They smelled horribly of sweat, stale beer and smoke.

“I’ll give you a shirt,” Remi said when he saw my smelling my clothes. “You can give it back next time

we see each other.” I nodded thankfully. I wasn’t just thankful for the clean shirt but also for the

implication that we would see each other again. It spared me the awkwardness of having to ask him if he

wanted to see me another time.

I put on the shirt that he gave me. It was too small but at least it was clean. We had our coffee standing

up at the kitchen table. There was no breakfast because Remi had forgotten to buy anything. He didn’t

seem hungry and just smoked his second cigarette. It was almost noon. “I’d better be getting home,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

After we’d exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, I left.

It was a sunny day and instead of taking the metro to my own apartment I decided to walk. I felt excited to

have met such a nice guy.

Remi called me two days later again and asked me to drop by. I’d washed and ironed his shirt and

brought a nice bottle of red wine with me. He’d cooked dinner for us, some exotic Moroccan dish with

figs and honey. We drank the wine I’d brought over dinner and then another bottle too. The wine was

making me confident.

“I really like you,” I told him. He got up from his chair and sat on my lap, straddling me. He put his

arms around me and kissed me intensely. I kissed him back hard. One of his hands grabbed my hair at the

back of my head and pulled me in even stronger. I liked him taking control like that and I had a hard-on

immediately. I could feel his’ pressed against my stomach. When the kiss grew even more heated I lifted

him up from the chair, he was a lot lighter than me, and pushed him on his bed. He fumbled with my

clothed and I took off my shirt over my head without unbuttoning it. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my

pants and boxer shorts down in one move. My hard-on bopped up and hit my stomach. He undressed

quickly too and he got a condom from his nightstand and slid it over my dick. He bent down and started to

give me a mind-boggling blow-job. I was ready to come in to his mouth but he got up again.

I was so horny that I could barely cope with his mouth leaving my erection. He massaged a handful of

lube over my dick and then he pushed me backwards so that I was lying down and he straddled me again.

He just slid over me and started riding me hard. I reached for his hard-on and started pumping his dick in

my hand at the same time. With every stroke he was moaning and impaled himself deeper on to me. We

were both heaving like crazy. Sweat drops were appearing on his chest and forehead and clung to his dark

hair. I was bucking my hips against his ass every time he moved.

When he started to climax he was mumbling things in French and threw his head backwards. The line of

his throat and the tensed muscles in his shoulders and arms looked so incredibly hot. He was clutching the

sheets and I was holding his hips in my hands. He came with a sudden jerk and shot his jizz over my hand,

my chest and on my throat. Dewy pearls of come were stuck in his own pubic hair as I was still milking

his dick with my hand. Then my own orgasm hit me and I convulsed inside of him. I threw back my head

in the pillow and let the waves of pleasure pass through me. This time, I didn’t even think of David when

I came.

Afterwards, when we’d cleaned up and were having dessert in bed, Remi said: “I really like you

Michael, we should be friends.” “Yeah we should,” I said and I fed him the last of our ice-cream while

we watched ‘les Blues’, a French TV show with a super cute gay cop and his detective-lover who was

kind of a jerk.

20. Late night confessions

And so Remi and I became friends. Some nights we would have amazing, hot sex but there were other

nights too when we would just hang out, drink wine and talk or even play poker with some of his friends.

After one of those nights where I did fuck him, we were in bed together and totally exhausted. It was a