Weekend Trip: Janis's Story Ch. 01

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Janis is detoured on her way to meet her fiancee.
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 08/29/2017
Created 05/23/2006
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It had been a hell of a week, working twelve hours a day at the Paris trade show, then coming home to try to get some rest, only to be disturbed by acrimonious phone calls from my fiancée, Stephen. Things had been bad between us even before I had decided to take this job in Paris as administrative assistant to the conference organizer for a multi-national pharmaceuticals corporation. It was supposed to be for a two month period and the major reason I accepted the position was to try to put some distance between Stephen and myself to act as a cooling down period. After I left, it seemed at first that it was the right move as he had been much calmer, and in fact I invited him to come over for a weekend visit. This proved to be a mistake as we had a blazing row while he was here and in fact he went home earlier than planned because of it.

Now only six weeks remained before the wedding and I was not at all happy about getting married to a man I hardly seemed to recognize any more. After the conversations I'd had with Stephen this last week I made the painful decision that I had to call off the wedding or at least postpone it. In actual fact we had said some very hurtful things to each other, so that I couldn't see us ever having the kind of loving relationship that a husband and wife should have. Jacques, my boss, had promised me a long weekend off after the show, so since the last day was Thursday, I'd asked him if I could take it this coming weekend. He had said I could, but he needed me to come in on Friday morning to tie up any loose ends.

The month of August is when Paris virtually closes down for annual vacations, so that particular weekend was actually a very busy travel weekend. I had managed to secure a seat on Air France into Heathrow and from there I could catch a bus to Reading, where my fiancée lived with his parents. I thought that was a good plan, until the French air traffic controllers went on strike just two days before I was due to leave, and I had to change my plans. Postponing my trip was not an option, as I was supposed to work the next weekend and in any case I needed to break off my engagement to Stephen before it got too close to the wedding.

I made some enquiries and discovered that the Channel crossing by hovercraft from Boulogne to Folkestone took only thirty-five minutes, and that the total trip from Paris to London by train and hovercraft took very little longer than flying, taking into account the time needed to check in for the flight and claim baggage. I decided that I would take that route, which had the added advantage of not requiring reservations.

Friday morning came and I turned up early for work, hoping to get away by noon. Jacques was not in a good mood that day, and he kept finding things for me to do, so that it was almost two o'clock before I was able to get away. When I got off the train at Boulogne I was taken aback by the number of people who were waiting for the next flight, as they called it. When the craft arrived it filled up rapidly and I was almost at the head of the queue when the announcement came that it was full. I was disappointed at the delay, but I was assured I would be able to make the next departure in about forty minutes.

That turned out to be almost true, and eventually I was safely on board and on my way to Folkestone. When I got there I was delayed in British customs as I was stopped by a young customs officer as I walked through the green channel, even though I was traveling very light with only my vanity case and my purse. From the stupid questions he was asking me, I got the distinct impression that the only reason he stopped me was to get my phone number. Anyway, eventually he let me go without getting my number, and I hurried into the railway station, only to see the London train just pulling out. That meant I had to wait another hour for the next one, and from the limited information I was able to glean from the published timetables, it didn't seem likely that I could make it to Reading that night. After thinking about it, I decided my best course of action would be to stay in London overnight, which would give me a chance to work out what I would say when I saw Stephen.

Since I had time to spare I decided I would phone Stephen to let him know I was back in England and would be arriving at his house tomorrow. He sounded surprised and even rather annoyed and I couldn't help wondering if he had made other plans for the weekend. I cut the conversation short and told him I would ring him from the station when I arrived the next day.

The train from London arrived and I was able to find a good seat for the return journey. It seemed to fill up quite rapidly and soon there was only one seat left in the compartment. The train pulled away on time and I settled down with a paperback that I had just bought from the newsstand at the station. After a couple of minutes the door slid open and a tall handsome young man entered, threw his bag on the luggage rack and plopped down into the seat, somewhat breathlessly.

I went back to my book, but I couldn't resist taking another peek at the latest arrival. He was, I guessed, about thirty-five or so, and had a confident manner, which is something I've always found to be sexy. To all appearances he didn't seem to know I was there, so I went back to my book. All the others in the compartment were either dozing or reading and soon the young man pulled out a newspaper and also started to read. At one stage, the train shuddered and I looked up from my book only to see him looking at me. We made brief eye contact, and I was about to say something clever, but couldn't think of anything, so I just smiled and resumed reading my book.

The trip to London was supposed to take an hour and a half but it seemed that the time passed more quickly than that and the train pulled into Charing Cross station at exactly 9.30 without either one of us saying a word. As the train stopped I put my book away and stood up, preparing to leave. The handsome stranger jumped up and opened the door for me, giving me a broad smile, a smile that made my heart flutter. I smiled back, murmuring my thanks and stepped out into the corridor and headed for the exit door. I got off the train, and acting entirely on impulse, I did not go towards the station exit, but mingled with the crowd. I suddenly had the feeling that somehow I needed to find more about this sexy stranger. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I was sure I would think of something.

I waited a couple of minutes and then I saw him leave the train and start walking towards the exit. I caught up to him and touched him on his sleeve and said, "Excuse me, can I ask you something?"

He turned towards me, looking rather surprised. "Of course," he said. What is it?"

"Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need a drink, and I hate to drink alone. Would you be kind enough to escort me to the bar?"

He smiled that smile again and my heart skipped another beat. "Of course! I'd be delighted. I think I could use a drink myself."

He offered me his arm and we went into the station bar, where we found a table close to the door. It was pretty much deserted and as soon as we sat down a waiter came to take our order.

"So what would you like?" he asked.

"Oh, a large gin and tonic, please, with lemon."

"OK, and I'll have a calvados, please," he said and turned back to look at me. "So, if I may ask, what brings you to London and why were you in such desperate need of a drink? Oh, by the way, I'm Jack," he said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and held on it for a few moments longer than I normally would, and then said the first thing that came into my head. "I'm Janis," I said, "and to answer your question, I'm in deep trouble!"

"Oh? What kind of trouble?" he asked.

"I'm engaged to be married in six weeks, and I'm in love!"

"That doesn't sound like trouble to me, unless you have an aversion to marriage."

"Oh, it's trouble all right," I said, pausing while the waiter brought our drinks with the bill. I lifted my glass and he returned the gesture, while I took a long swallow of my gin and tonic, desperately thinking of what to say next.

"Cheers!" he said. "You were saying?"

"Quite simply put, it's real trouble because the man I'm in love with is not the same man I'm supposed to marry!"

"Ah, now I understand," he said sympathetically. "So how did that happen?" he asked.

"Well, I've been working for a pharmaceutical company in Paris for the last six weeks," I said, wildly ad libbing now, "and about three weeks ago I met this guy at a reception. We got to talking and it was obvious that he was as attracted to me as I was to him. We started dating and last weekend we realized that we were in love."

"So have you......" he started to ask.

"No, no, we haven't made love yet, but it's been tough I can tell you. I told Jacques, that's his name, that I was engaged and wanted to break it off before he and I went any further, and he respected that. So that's why I'm here - I'm on my way to see my fiancée to tell him I really cannot marry him."

"So you don't love him, then?"

"That's another problem," I said. "I thought I did, but before I left we had been having some terrible rows and that's really why I took this job, which was only supposed to be temporary. Now, I'm seriously considering whether to apply for a permanent position so I can be with Jacques."

Jacques was, if you recall, the name of my boss, who had now become my very imaginary lover, as that was the first name that came into my head. I was becoming more and more attracted to Jack and now I badly wanted to prolong our time together. I didn't even know at this stage whether or not he was married, although I didn't see any wedding ring on his finger. The fascinating thing about Jack was that so far he had not made any move on me, which in itself was quite unusual.

"So what do you plan to do next? When are you going to see your fiancée?"

I finished off my drink and said, "Well, I was going there tonight, but since I couldn't fly into Heathrow, and then missed my connection, I'll spend the night at a hotel and go on to Reading tomorrow." What he said next almost floored me, but gave me the opportunity I needed.

"There's a spare bedroom in the apartment where I'm staying tonight. If you want to you'd be more than welcome to stay there."

I couldn't get out my reply fast enough, without appearing to be too eager. "That's very kind of you, Jack. If you're sure it's no trouble....."

"No trouble at all, Janis. At least I can save you the bother of checking in and checking out of the hotel."

"OK, then. Thanks a lot!"

"You're welcome. Look, I don't know about you but I haven't had anything to eat since lunchtime and I'm famished!"

After Jack had made me the offer of a room for tonight I felt I should reciprocate, so I replied, "Actually I'm starving. I'd like to repay your kindness by treating you to dinner, OK?"

"We'll talk about that later. Do you like Indian food?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Not very far from the apartment there's a little place where the Tandoori Chicken is to die for. Want to try it?"

"OK, that sounds good. Want to go now?"

"Sure, let's get a cab."

Jack paid the bill and we left the bar to go to the taxi rank. There were two or three cabs waiting there so we got in the first one and he gave the address of the restaurant. We didn't talk too much during the ten minute drive over there, but I held his hand and said, "Jack, thank you for being here for me and my neurotic self. I really appreciate your company tonight." I was so glad of the opportunity to spend more time with him, to get to know him better. I was starting to think that he might be just what I needed to try to forget Stephen.

When we arrived at the restaurant, it was crammed full of people. It was Friday night when Londoners tend to stay out on the town later and there were no tables available right away. However, that meant that we had to remain in the waiting area and because that area was also pretty full Jack and I were sitting much closer together than before. I was looking him straight in the eye as we talked, just trying to convey the impression that I was becoming interested in him.

Eventually our turn came and we were escorted to a small table at the far side of the room. This row of tables were arranged so that the seating on the side nearest to the wall was actually an upholstered bench running the entire length of the wall, with regular chairs on the opposite side. At first I sat on the bench and Jack took the chair on the opposite side, but since it was actually a table for four and we were having difficulty hearing each other he decided to move over to sit next to me instead.

As he sat down I smiled at him and said, "That's better! Now we can talk without shouting at each other." Almost unconsciously I punctuated it by patting him on his leg, and I was struck by how firm it felt.

At that point the waiter appeared to take our order and we decided to order two entrees to share and Jack chose a bottle of French Sancerre which went well with our choice. We didn't have to wait very long before the waiter returned with the wine and after I sampled it I complimented him on his good taste.

Our dinner was very enjoyable but we had soon consumed all of the wine so Jack ordered another bottle. As dinner progressed I had edged my thigh close up to his and the contact felt good, and it had had me turning my thoughts to other parts of his body. I did not dare to think that he would be as well endowed as Stephen, but I was curious to find out. I was also wondering if my contact with his thigh was having any effect on him. My chance to find out came when his napkin slipped from his lap on to the floor. As he bent down to retrieve it I casually slipped my hand across the front of his pants coming into direct contact with his erect cock and it really felt big! I tried to make it appear as if it happened accidentally, but I'm not sure if he thought it was.

We finished our meal and decided to skip dessert, content to have a final glass of wine each as we finished off the second bottle. The waiter brought the bill to Jack, but as he was pulling out his wallet, I protested, saying, "No, please, dinner's on me!"

He told me he wouldn't hear of it, going on to say, "I've never had a woman pay for me, so I'm certainly not going to start now!"

I was almost overwhelmed by his kindness and murmured, "You're very kind. How can I ever repay you?"

He replied, "Well, I guess we'll think of something!" Maybe it was because I had already started to think of him sexually, but I thought that this response was heavy with sexual innuendo. I didn't want him to think I was easy, so I cast my eyes down, so he couldn't see the desire building up in me. I guess he thought he might have embarrassed me, for he hurriedly said, "No, no, don't be embarrassed, I was only joking. There's no need to repay me. To have the pleasure of your company is reward enough."

I raised up my head and looked him in the eye to say in a joking way, "Now you're really embarrassing me!"

"Well, it's the truth. When I first set eyes on you, I'd have never dreamed that we'd be having dinner together!"

"Well, we have and I've enjoyed every minute of it!"

"Perhaps we should do it again sometime. Perhaps when we return to Paris? Oh, but I forgot you have a boy friend there, so there's not much chance of that, is there?"

Since there was no boyfriend, I didn't want to discourage him so I said, "Maybe, we'll see, eh?"

"Well, I hope so!" he said, enthusiastically as the waiter brought the credit card slip back for him to sign, so after that was done, he said, "Well, it looks like they're getting ready to close. I can't believe it's already after twelve. Let's see if we can get a cab back to my place, OK?"

"OK, I'm feeling quite sleepy after the wine."

Jack asked the cashier, a gloomy looking elderly Indian lady, probably the owner's mother, to call for a cab. She didn't look as if she wanted to be bothered so she said that were probably closed by this time. The only thing she said was we could hail a passing cab with no problem, so we went outside. It was a warm evening so Jack suggested we start to walk in the direction of the apartment until we could get a cab. We set off and a couple of cabs passed us but they were occupied. With my high heels we had to walk slowly and I put my arm around his waist and he reciprocated by putting his right arm around me while he carried his bag in his left hand. It felt really good as I held him tightly and wondered if he was going to try to kiss me, since I had obviously aroused him.

We got to the end of the block and then crossed the street when the traffic light was in our favor, still looking for a cab but to no avail and he told me it was only two more blocks down to the street where the apartment was located. I was enjoying the walk, so we continued down the street when I stumbled on an uneven slab and broke my right heel. Fortunately, because we had our arms around each other, I didn't fall or twist my ankle, but when he looked at my shoe it was obvious I was not going to be able to walk with one shoe missing a heel while the other was still intact. Jack looked around still hoping a cab would come by, but there still were none in sight.

It was obvious what we should do, so I grinned at him and said, "Well, I'll just have to take the other one off and walk barefoot."

"Really, are you serious?"

"Yes, of course. It's not too far, is it?"

"No, it's not too much further. But what about your stockings? They're going to be ruined."

"I'll just take them off, too. I hate pantyhose anyway."

"Here?"

"Of course." I pointed at a nearby shop doorway. "If you'll stand guard, I'll just duck in here and they'll be off in a jiffy."

"OK, then, if you're sure." I slipped into the doorway and hiked up my dress, hoping he would try to get a look at my legs or my ass, which of course I wanted him to. I quickly stripped my hose down past my knees then went over to him so I could lean on him to steady myself while I completed the removal of my hosiery. I thought I detected a sizeable bulge in his pants but I wasn't sure if was a shadow cast by the dim light from the street lights. I wanted to find out so I brushed the front of his pants, trying to make it seem accidental, and I confirmed that there was indeed a big bulge lurking inside. As I felt his hardness, I also felt dampness in my pussy and realized that his excitement was also exciting me. I wasn't sure how this evening was going to end, but I really didn't want him to think I was an easy lay, even though there have been times that I've behaved like a real slut!

I tried to cover up by asking, "Oh, dear, did I cause that?" He seemed embarrassed that I had found out he was erect, so he simply nodded with a sheepish grin. I tucked my hose into my vanity case, where I had already put my shoes, then tucked my arm back around his waist. I looked up at him, since barefoot I was now four inches shorter, and said, "Shall we go?"

Without my heels we were able to walk faster than before, even though we had to be careful where we were treading because I was barefoot, but we still got to the apartment building in about ten minutes. We had continued to walk with our arms around each others' waists and I continued to feel my pussy leaking juices and felt that my panties were quite damp.

We took the elevator to the fourth floor apartment and when we went inside I immediately saw that it was nicely furnished with a roomy lounge, with a dinner table at the far end. The kitchenette acted as a barrier between the bedrooms and the lounge and the bedrooms were next to each other and each had its own bathroom. Jack showed me into the first bedroom, keeping his word that I could have my own room, although I was thinking that we might only need to use one bedroom.