Turn the Page: Pt. 05

There are some French phrases and words used throughout this part. Apologies in advance for any grammatical mistakes, I'm not fluent in the language.

Preface:

Theresa 'Terri' Murphy, one time innocent and married wife. Her life has changed irrevocably in the last year. Her discovery of her love for dominant black men, in particular older black men has seen her engage in vigorous sexual activity with a large number of virtual strangers across the US, from Georgia, Illinois, California and her own home state of New Jersey.

An encounter with a published author during a creative writing course led Terri to start documenting the twists and turns of her sexual adventures. These writings, through the efforts of her former teacher and lover, were brought to the attention of a publisher based in France who has expressed an interest in meeting Terri with a view to publishing her work as a book.

Before making the decision to travel to France, Terri first had to establish if her last misadventure had resulted in her falling pregnant. Despite her birth control being tampered with and multiple partners all making best efforts to impregnate her, she managed to avoid becoming pregnant, more through luck than anything else.

The outcome from this scenario however was twofold. Firstly, Terri became more careful about the storage of her birth control, making sure nobody could tamper with them again in such an easy manner. Secondly, unexpectantly, she found herself missing the rush she had felt when she thought the men were in fact inseminating her successfully. Loss of control to a dominant male had become a need for her and she wondered how she could ever top the sensation of an older black bull 'breeding' her as he saw fit.

And so, Terri found herself soon after walking the streets of Paris, France. Her marriage was over, she had submitted the paperwork before leaving. Dean and herself had reached an agreement between themselves quickly, neither contesting the divorce settlement. Terri figured she would be legally single in the next two to three months.

Louise Lambert was the publisher that Terri had an appointment to meet. However, when Terri had called after arriving in Paris, she was told that Ms Lambert would not be returning to her office for a week due to a death in the family. The secretary she spoke with was helpful and rescheduled the appointment for 11am on the day Ms Lambert was due back. This left Terri with eight days to kill in Paris.

Chapter 1:

Terri had found a one-bedroom rooftop studio apartment which was available to rent by the week. Considering its location, on the Champs Elysees, she thought it was a steal at $460 a week. It was compact but it still had a bedroom, kitchen with a washing machine and a bathroom with shower.

But for Terri it was all about the view. Looking out of the skylight in the bedroom she could make out the Eiffel tower only a couple of miles away, at night she loved staring towards it towering above the city. The Arc de Triomphe was practically on her doorstep, maybe a two-minute walk away. There were museums, cafes, parks all within a short stroll, it was heaven to her mind!

The building was from the 1940's according to a small brass plaque above the main door. The entire building was owned and run by Madam Diouf, a Senegalese emigree who, with her husband, had purchased a decaying shell of a building, turning it into a home for themselves with six self-contained apartments for rent.

Madam Diouf, a formidable woman in her late 50's, had proudly informed Terri about this accomplishment along with the accomplishments of her four daughters whilst showing her the apartment. Terri was only in the apartment two days at this point but she'd easily spent two hours in Madam Diouf's company as the older woman would stop her in the entrance hall, offering advice on places to see, things to avoid and always an entreaty at the end for Terri to eat more, 'peau et os' (skin and bone) she would mutter to herself, shaking her head as Terri walked on.

For Terri, the trip was a liberating experience. After the turbulent year she'd had emotionally, going to such a vibrant city was a real tonic. Everything seemed to catch her eye as she walked, the architecture and history, she was like a child in a candy store. The one place that she felt she had to visit before returning home was Père Lachaise Cemetery. She wanted to visit the graves of Oscar Wilde, Marcel Proust and Gertrude Stein among others.

If there was a sour note it was the fact that she was here alone. Paris was the city of light, the city of love. And she was here, on her own, not with Dean on a proper honeymoon as they had talked about once or twice. She had also felt slightly vulnerable being alone as well. There was one incident that had brought that home to her.

Walking in the square opposite the Louvre near the glass pyramid, on the evening of her first full day in the city, she had felt a hand tug at the sleeve of her jacket. Turning around she saw an olive-skinned teenager, no older than sixteen. He had jet black hair, long but raggedly cut, his clothes also had an unkempt look to them despite appearing clean. He was clutching a ring in his hand and spoke rapidly at her in French.

Terri shook her head, shrugging her shoulders to indicate she had no idea what was being said to her. The boy paused, "Eengliesh?" he ventured with a strong accent.

"American" Terri replied, trying to smile but becoming aware that while there were a number of other similar looking youths nearby, there weren't many tourists around now as it was getting on to dusk.

"Is yours, yes?" he said confidently, holding the ring up for Terri to inspect.

"Ah no, that's, well that's a man's ring" Terri replied. Now that she had a good view of it, she realised that the ring looked to be a cheap piece of brass rather that a gold wedding ring.

Terri turned to go only to have her arm grabbed again.

"Somebody lose this, you give me ten euros for this and when they come looking for ring you can keep the reward."

"No sorry, I don't want it. You keep it and get the reward yourself" Terri replied, she looked down at his hand still gripping the sleeve of her jacket and scanned the square once again hoping somebody might notice her growing distress.

"Maybe you give me ten euro anyway. Since you waste my time, you owe me" he said, a feral look on his face making him look more dangerous to Terri's wide eyes.

One of the other youths called out to him, not in French, and he immediately released Terri, melting back into the growing dusk with his friends as two armed French policemen strolled into view. Terri had run to hail a cab straight away, instead of walking home as she'd planned.

Madam Diouf had seen her return and when she heard what happened had launched into a tirade about how the city was becoming worse these last years, not safe for decent women to walk the streets. Her ebony skinned arms, festooned with bracelets, had flailed in the air as she vented her fury at 'scum' frightening her tenant. She sent Terri back to her apartment with her husband's cell number in her hand 'for emergencies' and a command to 'eat more' ringing up the stairwell after Terri's disappearing form.

Terri hadn't met Madam Diouf's husband. He apparently worked nights a lot overseeing a cab company they owned, among other things. Madam Diouf herself oversaw this property, another smaller apartment building and a grocery store they owned. She claimed the workload had her weary, but Terri thought she seemed energetic enough.

Monday was Terri's third day in Paris. She had explored the center of the city on foot at this point, she'd have loved to have spent a few hours wandering through the Louvre but the incident on the Saturday and the length of the queue at the entrance had put her off. Perhaps later in the week, definitely before she left for home in any event.

She decided therefore that today was a good day to go to the cemetery. Sitting down in her tiny kitchen she used her city guide to plan a route. On foot it was almost a two-hour walk. No problem for Terri and the weather was pleasant, but she figured a bus journey would be easier and sitting down she could continue typing up her current update to her story, maybe even finish and email it to Abraham that evening.

Terri wore a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a light sweater. She carried a small backpack as well for her laptop and a windbreaker in case the weather turned later in the day. The journey was enjoyable, she had to change buses only once and it all took just over an hour. The cemetery was beautiful, if a city of the dead could be described as such.

There were a number of stalls selling guidebooks, postcards, and the like outside the gates. Terri bought a guide and began her visit. Even though it wasn't the closest burial, she went straight to Oscar Wilde's grave. Standing there, she waited for the few other tourists to move on before she approached herself. There was a glass barrier surrounding the grave as visitors had started a tradition of leaving lipstick kisses on the stone, damaging it over time. She couldn't kiss it but balancing on a stone beside it, at full stretch she managed to get her arm close enough to brush her fingers across the cool stone.

She then continued through the cemetery, meandering along its paths as she flicked through the guide, points of interest causing her to double back or pause on her walk. Eventually she came to the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, medieval lovers with a tragic ending. She read a quote of Heloise aloud from the guide, 'I tried to dissuade thee from our marriage, from an ill-starred bed...I prefer love to wedlock, freedom to chains'. Terri smiled, her concerns about being alone in Paris, without Dean in her life anymore, suddenly gone.

"Damn right Heloise, damn right" she said with a smile.

By the time Terri emerged from the cemetery the sky had grown darker, rain clouds rolling in on a strong breeze. She stepped back against the wall, a large tree offering shelter from the fat heavy raindrops that now began plummeting from the sky.

Glancing around she couldn't see anywhere to get a Taxi and the nearest bus stop, if there was even a bus due, would involve a five-minute walk. As she pulled on her coat, she realised that even with it she was going to end up soaked. She pulled out her cell phone flicking to the number Madam Diouf had given her previously.

Hoping that she wasn't going to wake the poor man, Terri rang Madam Diouf's husband.

"Oui?"

"Oh hello, I'm sorry to be calling. This is Terri, I am staying in one of your apartments".

"Ah yes, the American girl. My wife spoke of you" he replied, Terri felt grateful that he sounded alert, at least she hadn't disturbed him while he was asleep. He continued talking, "My wife handles problems with the accommodation, perhaps you meant to call her?"

"No, no, it isn't a problem with the apartment" Terri explained, "I'm caught in the rain at the Père Lachaise Cemetery and I understand from Madam Diouf that you have a cab company, a taxi company?"

"Oui, yes, of course. Okay, remain where you are, and I will contact a driver to get to you"

"Oh, thank you, I mean Merci, thanks so much."

"A pleasure, I will make the call now."

He hung up and Terri hunched her shoulders against the rain as she waited for her lift to arrive.

Chapter 2:

"Non, non" The cab driver said, waving away Terri's offer of payment. She was slightly damp, but the cab had arrived just before the heavens had opened and a deluge of rain had engulfed the city.

"Monsieur Diouf says no charge, you understand?"

"Merci" Terri answered and hopped out onto the sidewalk, then running to the open doorway of her building.

Madam Diouf was there, pulling on a coat. She smiled when she saw Terri, then she leaned out the doorway, holding up a hand to the driver who waved back.

"Adama to the rescue oui?" she asked Terri.

"Oh yes, he arrived right on time" she answered to which Madam Diouf laughed.

"Non, Adama is my husband, the driver is Charles" she explained.

Terri blushed before saying, "I'm so sorry, yes Adama was so kind to send Charles out to me that quickly, it saved me from getting drenched."

"Well, you can thank him tonight" Madam Diouf said glancing back out to the street where Charles in his cab continued to wait. "Today is Independence Day in our country, Senegal, and we always raise a glass of champagne. This year you will join us."

Terri started to respond but a hand flapped towards her face cutting off any reply.

"Oui, yes, certainly you will join us, and I will give you food to eat. Too skinny, too skinny. I must go, Charles is waiting." And with that Madam Diouf dashed out into the downpour.

A change of clothes after a long hot shower took the chill out of Terri's bones from the cold April rainstorm. She realised that Madam Diouf had never given her a time to arrive but she figured 7pm would be about right. That gave her a little under an hour. Terri used that time to put on a nice dress, she had packed it for her interview at the publishing house, but she thought Madam Diouf might appreciate her dressing up slightly for the dinner and drink. She also had time to run down the street, thankfully the rain had stopped by now, in order to buy three bottles of wine both as a gift and as a thank you.

Just before 7pm, Terri knocked at the door to Madam Diouf's apartment on the ground floor of the building. One half of the large double door opened and Adama, presumably, offered Terri a welcoming smile.

Her nipples started to harden.

Adama was tall, dark, so dark and handsome. He, like his wife, was in his late 50's and he wore it well. Clean shaven, the hair on his head was tightly cropped, dark except for some grey at each temple. He wore a simple open necked white shirt over dark chino's, the short sleeves on the shirt revealed a pair of bulging biceps. In short, he was everything Terri looked for...'Damn it' she thought, 'Hold it together girl'.

Madam Diouf swept into view, pulling Terri by the hand into the apartment. She whisked Terri over towards a comfortable looking armchair, deftly depositing her into it while thrusting a glass of champagne into Terri's hand simultaneously.

The next ninety minutes were a blur for Terri. Thankfully Madam Diouf was more than capable of keeping up a one-sided conversation for hours. She told Terri how she and her husband had moved to France in their late teens. He had been a laamb, a traditional Senegalese and West African type of wresting, in Senegal and had gotten a chance to go to Europe to wrestle. They had made some money, invested it well and before long they were, if not rich, then very comfortable.

While she continued to talk, now on about her eldest daughter who was pregnant with her first child and she didn't come visit enough, Terri kept taking low sidelong glances at Adama. He seemed oblivious; he wasn't drinking champagne except for a sip when his wife had made a toast. He seemed to be intent on looking at a soccer match on the muted tv in the corner of the room. Even so, at least once Terri was sure he'd been gazing at her. She didn't know why or how she knew, but she was sure his eyes had been intently roaming over her.

Terri's palms were sweating and that wasn't the only part of her feeling damper than normal. She eventually managed to break into Madam Diouf's conversational flow long enough to make her excuses, offer her thanks again to both of them and leave. Adama walked her to the door while his wife tidied away the refreshments. As she walked ahead of him, Terri was once again sure he was staring at her. He leaned past her to open the door, his chest coming into contact against her back. Instead of moving forward, Terri pressed back slightly against him. She held herself there, allowing for a count of three before she turned and smiled at him.

Adama's face gave nothing away but Terri could see the lust in his eyes.

"A real pleasure Terri, please, have a goodnight" he said softly as she walked into the corridor.

"Thanks again, merci beaucoup Adama" Terri called over her shoulder. She felt his eyes on her as she started up the stairs, the click of the front door closing not reaching her ears until she had reached the top of the first flight. 'Behave yourself', she chided herself as she unlocked her apartment door. 'He's married and she's a lovely person'. With this thought Terri decided to stay out of Adama's way for the remainder of her time in Paris, it would be best for everyone concerned.

Between the fairly short bus journey the previous day and then the drinks with the Diouf's the previous evening, Terri hadn't really written anything. She set herself up beside the window, resolved to finishing the update before she did anything else.

Hours later, it was the evening now, Terri had reached the point where she had taken her final pregnancy test, realising that she wasn't knocked up by Fagin and friends. Saving the document, she quickly dashed off an email to Abraham explaining that this instalment brought her up to the present and she attached the file before hitting send.

The problem with true stories is that without an event occurring there was nothing to write. Maybe she should go out to a bar that night she thought, see if she might meet somebody there? She hadn't really brought that many outfits with her, it was mostly just casual clothes with the one outfit for the meeting. Nothing stylish, definitely nothing Paris stylish.

She briefly considered asking Madam Diouf about local bars before realising that would most likely end in a lecture with admonishments to eat more and also possibly, she might see Adama instead and her body was overruling her mind regarding him, so best to stay out of temptations path.

Speak the Devils name and he shall appear...

Terri climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, grabbing a second towel to dry her hair. The knocking at her door sounded again, the first time having prompted her to turn off the shower, the second time to grab a towel.

She opened the door a crack, water pooling on the floor around her feet.

"Oh" she gasped, opening the door a little wider as she took a half step back in astonishment.

Adama was at the door, he looked like he had just left his apartment as he was wearing an open robe, beneath it a pair of pyjama trousers and a white sleeveless vest.

"Beautiful American" he murmured, pushing into the apartment.

Terri stepped back a couple of feet, one hand clutching the towel in place around her, the other dangling at her side, the small damp towel she had been using on her hair forgotten in her grip.

"Une si belle fille blanche" he said in French before switching to English. "My wife is asleep; she has taken the tablets for sleeping."

He took a step closer to her, again Terri stepped back nervously.

"I think yesterday at dinner that you like me; I think that you know I like you too" he said, shrugging his robe off to fall to the floor. He paused then peeled off his vest, his body, a wrestler's body, still sculpted and strong.

Adama took another step forward as he dropped the vest to join his robe on the floor. Terri didn't step away this time.

"I think maybe you worry for my wife, do not. She will sleep all night and will wake tomorrow not knowing of us." He moved a step closer, only three paces separating them now.

"Maybe it is not my wife you worry for, maybe you worry 'le vieillard', this old man, he is not able to satisfy the young white woman, eh?" As he spoke, he pulled his pants off, his long thick cock swung free. Terri swallowed audibly as she stared at the jet-black snakelike cock hanging between his legs. Adama stepped forward, two steps this time.