Making Love in the City of Love

"No," she whispered sweetly, her hands covering mine. She squeezed my hands, causing my hands to squeeze her breasts gently, pressing back into my hard erection.

"Bend forward." Julie released my hands and leaned forward, her hands upon the windowsill. I could hear her breathing quickening in anticipation as she spread her legs wide so I could enter her more easily. Yet, as appealing as was the thought of our bodies joining together, I instead masturbated her again, only briefly, just enough to cause her to mew seductively and wet my hand once more. Then, I stroked myself a few times and guided myself to her.

With a combined sigh, our bodies joined as one. Slowly, respectfully, I entered my wife's body, feeling her clench around me as I carefully maneuvered deeper into her until I filled her completely.

"To make love to you here..." she began, her quiet words trailing off as my hands returned to her breasts, kneading them as they fell away from her.

Her forehead against the cool glass of the window, Julie moved back against me, setting a low, romantic pace. I let her move against me at first, then matched her pace, leaning over her, practically laying my chest on her back. I lost track of how much time passed as we stood/laid together in this awkward manner, reveling in each other even as we both looked out the window across the cityscape, La Tour Eiffel brightly lit in the distance and unmistakable against the cloudy night sky.

"Je t'aime, ma petite Julie."

Even as I spoke those and other loving words in my second language, I straightened up behind this beautiful young woman and gradually increased the tempo of our lovemaking. My hands now firmly upon her hips, I spoke to her in those words she did not understand yet adored so much. In time, she straightened up, her body arched severely so I could still easily make love to her. Together, we fondled her chest, her hands once again upon mine, and I heard her begin to moan and whimper softly, clearly enjoying this romantic scenario.

Our lovemaking continued to increase in tempo, our passions rising together. Perspiration began to cover our skin. She reached up, locking her fingers behind my neck, baring her body to my ministrations as my hands groped her seemingly everywhere. Given that French is not my native language, I reached the point where I was incapable of continuing to grace her ears with the language of romance, but her soft, nearly-incoherent babble of pleasure bubbled forth from her lips to take its place.

Together, we entered a higher plane of existence. Suddenly, we were no longer two individuals whose bodies were joined in the most primal dance known to humans. We had entered a more beautiful space, one in which we were connected as one single entity with the universe. We were unable to distinguish where one of us ended and the other began, nor could we discern a difference between a human body and a celestial body. We floated in this fulfilling void for both a millisecond and an eternity concurrently, seeing and feeling both everything imaginable and nothing at all simultaneously.

Then, we returned to the present, Julie kneeling at the window as I knelt behind her, clutching her protectively as she cried joyfully in my arms. I rocked my wife gently, myself close to tears from the intense beauty of the experience we had just shared.

It was with great reluctance that we returned to L'Aéroport Charles de Gaule on the morning of February 15. Now that I had at last had the opportunity to create many beautiful memories in the City of Love, I was absolutely certain that I would return with Julie in the future. And as we took off from the airport and I looked past my young wife out the window at the city in the distance below us, I could see on Julie's face that she desperately wanted to return with me as well.

Even before the plane left French airspace, we had silently vowed to return to the City of Love for Valentine's Day 2006.