Cheese and Old FriendsbyCeriseNoire©
Sophie woke up with a craving for cheese. She got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. When she opened the fridge, the cold air turned her nipples into hard, red little nubs. She always slept naked in the summer. To her dismay, there were eggs, fruits, milk, and some leftover chocolate cake in the fridge. Of course she opted for the chocolate cake.
After her sweet breakfast, Sophie showered and tried to get the cheese out of her mind—to no avail. The magazine she picked up had a picture of a slender blonde, eating what looked like a sensuously soft slice of brie on crusty bread. Sophie tossed the magazine aside and sat in front of the TV, only to be assaulted by an ad for those atomic yellow squares that masquerade as cheese.
"Guess it's time for a trip," she said out loud.
She slipped on a summer dress that skimmed over her curves. She loved the way the fluttering hem teased with the threat of exposing her plump ass. Sophie twisted up her red curls into a messy bun, tossed her keys and wallet into her purse, stepped into her shoes, and walked out the door.
Since the stores in her neighborhood only carried, a meager choice of common cheeses, Sophie often took little trips to the Upper East Side. It was much easier there for her to find European treats reminiscent her the childhood she had spent traveling with her bohemian parents. She considered this one of the perks of living in New Jersey.
Sophie exited the train, ascended the few steps back to the surface, and walked the two blocks to her favorite cheese shop. She stepped up to the door, pushed, and—nothing happened. She looked up to see a sign which read 'Fermé pour le 14 juillet -- Closed for Holiday'.
"Ugh," Sophie said aloud, "today's July fourteenth. I should have known they'd be closed."
"Yes, you should have," said a familiar voice behind her.
Sophie turned around. "Jacques? What are you doing here?"
"It's nice to see you too, Sophie."
"Oh, come on, you know I'm happy to see you," she said before hugging him.
Sophie had met Jacques a couple years earlier in Marseilles. Because she had been in her third year of college then, she couldn't spend the year traveling with her parents as she'd been accustomed to. As a result, when the family friends with whom they had been staying had invited Sophie to spend the summer break there as well, she had seized the occasion.
# # #
While her parents were off doing research for their book, Sophie would go enjoy the local beaches. On that particular day, she had been lying on her towel and reading a book when someone spoke.
Without looking up, Sophie replied, in French, that the book was so interesting that she would love to be able to read it in peace.
"What a nice accent. Are you American," the stranger asked in just as accented English.
"Yes," Sophie said. She put down her book and looked up at the young man who had just spoken. She instantly liked his mischievous smile.
"I'm Jacques," he said. "And this is my best friend Jean," he added, pointing at the tall guy standing next to him."
"I'm Sophie. Nice to meet you."
The three of them spent the day getting to know each other. Sophie told them about her childhood following her parents on their travel. She learned that Jacques and Jean had grown up together in the Parisian suburbs, and that they were both interning at one of the larger hotels near the beach. Jean's uncle ran a bistro in the States, and the two young Frenchmen had polished their English when they'd visited him there.
Before long, Sophie had become quite friendly with both men, though there was obvious chemistry between her and Jacques. Sophie considered bringing it up a few times, but thought better of it. After all, she would be back in the States soon, and likely never see Jacques again.
On Sophie's last evening in Marseilles, the three had a picnic in a quieter corner of the beach. Aside from the occasional groups passing by on their way to the clubs and bars, they were mostly left undisturbed.
One such group stopped, and a man yelled out in French. "Hey Jean! We're going to check out the new bar we were talking about earlier. Are you coming?"
Jean motioned for the man to wait, and then turned back toward Jacques and Sophie. "That's Ahmed. He works in the kitchen with me. Do you guys mind if I go? It'll give you some time alone."
"Well, we don't need time al—"
"Don't be embarrassed, Sophie. Anyway, if the bar's worth it I'll give you guys a call." Having said that, Jean stood, brushed the sand off his pants, and walked up to join Ahmed.
Left alone, Sophie and Jacques remained silent for a few moments before resorting to small talk. After a few awkward pauses, Jacques wrapped his arm around Sophie's shoulders. He looked at her and waited, as if asking for her permission. Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him so hard he fell back on the blanket.
Sophie straddled Jacques and looked down at him. She giggled at his surprised expression. "Not what you were going for?" she asked.
In lieu of an answer, Jacques pulled her in for another kiss. He was just as eager as she had been, and his hands quickly traveled down Sophie's back and under her dress. He toppled her over, so that he was now straddling her. Sophie paused for a moment, and Jacques seized the opportunity to pull her dress over her head and off of her in once swift movement.
Sophie moved to cover herself, but Jacques was quick to distract her by taking one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked tentatively at first, and then harder as Sophie moaned and arched her back beneath him. While Jacques tongue circled one nipple, his hand mimicked its motion around the other.
The insistent rubbing of Jacques' jeans-clad pelvis was a tease almost too much to bear, and Sophie tugged at the waistband until the button came undone. Through some inelegant contortions, Jacques twisted his way out of his jeans and boxers without letting go of Sophie's breasts. Sophie would have laughed, had she not been focused on the heat building between her legs. She would need him inside her soon.
She wriggled out from under him, and once he lay back, Sophie straddled his knees. She sat up to move her hair out of the way—and saw the small crowd that had stopped to watch. Sophie hesitated as she looked at dozen pair of eyes taking in her naked breasts. Then she swooped down to take Jacques' cock into her mouth.
He groaned. "Sophie," he whispered. "They're watching us."
Sophie continued to suck his cock, and Jacques relaxed, enjoying the view of his flesh disappearing between her lips. Every so often, she would let the head fall free from her mouth, and lick her way back up from the base, before taking him back in.
As soon as Jacques' erection was up to her standards, Sophie stood, turned around, and bent over to remove her damp panties. She tossed them off and sank down on all fours, presenting her ass to Jacques—or perhaps to the crowd. Jacques searched the pile of their discarded clothes for a condom, while Sophie taunted him by wiggling her ass.
Once he'd rolled the condom on, Jacques gripped Sophie's waist, and sank into her pussy. Sophie gasped. Jacques thrust into her hard, making her breasts sway with each push. As Sophie's gasps turned into loud moans, Jacques reached around her torso and pulled until her back rested against his chest. Without slipping out of her, he twisted until he was seated, facing the crowd, with Sophie impaled on his cock.
Jacques lay back, and Sophie rested her hand on his knees as she bounced on his cock. Once she had found her rhythm, Sophie began to rub circles around her clit. The volume of her moans increase in time with her bouncing, until she screamed her climax, her back arched and her chest flushed. She'd been so loud that she was the only one to hear Jacques moan as he came.
Before falling back into Jacques' arms, Sophie looked up at the dissipating crowd one last time. She could have sworn she saw Jean among her vanishing audience.
# # #
Now Jacques stood in front of her, in the middle of Manhattan. He explained that after the summer they'd spent together, he had continued working for the same hotel. After a promotion, they had sent him to New York to complete his MBA and work at their Manhattan location.
"You could have called," Sophie said.
"I didn't have your number. You said there was no point."
"I was hoping you'd insist." Sophie looked away. "Anyway, it is nice to see you."
"Hey, Fifie," Jacques said, breaking the awkward silence that had been creeping up. "Guess who else is in town. Jean!"
"Yeah, his uncle retired and moved back home, so he left him the business. I was just on my way there. Why don't you come along?"
"Sure. It's not like I'll be able to buy my cheese anyway. Besides, it would be nice to see Jean again."
Sophie followed Jacques down the block, and back underground. They said very little during the subway ride and short walk to the bistro. Eventually, they sopped in front of a building.
"We're here," Jacques said, motioning toward a sigh that read Chez Jean.
"Wow," said Sophie, "that's really impress—"
Jacques held Sophie pressed against him, sheltered from the rain, under the awning of the bistro. The storm had begun so suddenly that Sophie had just stood there, stunned, until Jacques pulled her out of the rain.
She shivered in the wet dress. Her ass was especially cold. Since one hand was still in Jacques' grasp, and the other was trapped between their bodies, Sophie twisted her neck to look back—the hem of her dress was caught under the arm wrapped around her waist.
Sophie blushed. "Um, do you mind?"
"Not at all."
"Jacques, everybody can see my ass!"
"Lucky them. It's a lovely ass."
"Seriously, it's not funny." Sophie struggled out of Jacques' hold. She stomped a few steps away from him, but the pouring rain sent her scurrying back. She stood as far from Jacques as she could while remaining under the awning.
"Aw, come here, Fifie," Jacques said.
Sophie crossed her arms and kept her back turned to him.
"Let's go inside. I'll have Jean bring you out some chocolate mousse—the real kind."
"Fine." She turned to face Jacques again. "But you'll have to walk in front of me."
Jacques led her inside. Jean was more than happy to serve up the promised chocolate mousse, and he offered the two a meal as well.
"No thanks," Sophie said. She'd already savored a spoonful of the whipped dessert. "This is perfect."
Jean brought out two cups of black coffee and sat at the table with Jacques and Sophie. The three of them talked of the summer they had spent together on the beach in Marseilles.
"So, how are your parents these days," asked Jean.
"They're fine. They're in Kyoto right now. Research for a novel or a textbook I think."
"Why didn't you go with them? It's summertime." Jacques leaned in as he spoke.
"I'm teaching one of the undergrad courses and taking a seminar."
"Oh, OK." He paused. "Hey, looks like you're cold, Fifie."
"Maybe a little, now that we're in here with the AC." Sophie shrugged. "Why?"
Sophie followed Jacques' gaze and understood. Her nipples were so hard that it looked as if they were trying to pierce through the wet fabric of her dress. "Oh," she said, although she didn't move to cover them.
Jean stood. "Why don't you two head upstairs and dry off? I need to get my waiters ready for the race anyway. Looks like it's clearing up out there." He dug into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a key, which he handed to Jacques. Then, he walked back toward the kitchen, calling out to his staff "Marcel! Pierre! Where are you hiding? The rain's over and I need you two to..." He disappeared behind the double doors.
"So," Jacques said, his hand outstretched, "are you coming?"
Sophie took his hand and followed him up the narrow stairs at the back of the bistro.
Once in the apartment, Sophie kicked off her wet sandals and turned to Jacques. "Do you know where Jean keeps the towels?"
"Sure. I'll get you one from the guest room."
"I'll come along." Sophie followed Jacques to the guestroom and took the towel he offered. "Thanks." She untied the ribbon holding what remained of her bun and hung her head down to towel off her hair. By the time she looked up, Jacques was shirtless. "Sill looking good," she said.
Jacques didn't answer. He was just staring.
"Hey, Earth to Jacques. I'm talking to you."
"Sorry. You just look so gorgeous. The messy hair, the wet dress. It's so—"
"Oh, stop it Jacques. Flattery will get you nowhere, you know." She stuck her tongue out at him.
Jacques took a few steps toward her. "Really?" He reached out and caressed her cheek.
She couldn't help coming closer to him still. "I lied. It will get you everywhere," she said. Then she kissed him.
When Sophie relinquished his lips, Jacques smiled. "You always were impatient. What about foreplay?"
"Overrated," she said, reaching for his waistband.
He caught her wrists with one hand. "Patience," he said as he walked forward, "is a virtue," he finished just as Sophie felt the wall against her back. He pinned her hands above her head and let her struggle a bit, as if to see whether one hand was enough to hold her. He chuckled in satisfaction.
Sophie whimpered. The feeling of Jacques strength and the hungry way he looked at her aroused her. Jacques pressed his body against Sophie's and buried his face in her neck. He licked the slope of her shoulder, and she shivered when he traced her collarbone with his tongue.
When Jacques looked at her again, Sophie knew her face was flushed. Jacques smiled at her, and with his free hand, he traced invisible lines across her cheeks, over her breasts, and down the curve of her side. When he grabbed her ass, Sophie struggled against his hold once more, in an effort to grind her pelvis against his. By now, her sex demanded attention.
Jacques, it seems, understood her need. Still looking into her eyes, he slipped his hand under the hem of her dress and into her panties. He cupped Sophie's sex in his palm and squeezed the flesh rhythmically until moisture seeped from between the lips he held. Sophie sighed and averted her eyes. Although she still wore her rain-soaked dress, she felt exposed.
"Hey, don't look away," Jacques said, "you look so beautiful like this." He slipped a finger between her swollen lips, and followed their inner curve to her clit.
Sophie moaned, and her gyrating hips moved in sync with Jacques fingers. She tried to keep her eyes on his. Yet as his fingers moved faster in her increasing wetness, she found it more and more difficult to stay focused. When she came, she could barely see the lines of his face.
Jacques let go of Sophie's wrists. She looked at the faint red imprint of his hand for a moment, before turning her attention to him. From the bulge in his pants, Sophie knew he had enjoyed her pleasure. She was eager to reciprocate. She unbuttoned his pants, and watched as they fell to the floor.
She tossed her wet dress aside. Standing close to Jacques, she slipped her hand in the opening of his boxers, and closed her fingers around his cock. She stroked the hot flesh, all the while nibbling a trail across his chest. She smiled when he groaned.
She sank to her knees, pulling Jacques' boxers down with her. She resumed her stroking with one hand, while she stretched to reach her purse with the other. Sophie pulled a condom out of the purse, unwrapped it, and unrolled it onto Jacques' cock. She took a deep breath. The faint rubber smell made her pussy clench in anticipation.
Sophie rose to her feet again, facing Jacques. He reached out and drew her closer, before kissing the skin of her neck.
Sophie let her head fall back and sighed. "Jacques," she said, "let's get in bed."
"Look at the gorgeous weather," Jacques answered, taking a few steps toward the French doors to the balcony.
"Oh, no, no, no. I know what you're thinking." She watched Jacques open the door. "Seriously, Jacques, I'm not twenty-one any more."
"And you're even more beautiful now than you were then."
"If I'm so beautiful, "she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and took her panties off, "what are you doing all the way over there?"
Jacques closed the distance between them, slipped his hands under Sophie's ass, and lifted it off the bed so he could slide into her. Sophie moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. She'd almost forgotten how much she enjoyed the way he fit inside her. Jacques leaned forward to kiss her, and Sophie reached out to grip his shoulders.
Sophie felt Jacques strong arms envelop her, and suddenly was lifted off the bed as Jacques stood upright. As a reflex, she held on tighter. When she noticed Jacques was marching right out onto the balcony, she struggled to get down, but he maintained a firm hold on her.
"What the Hell is wrong with you," Sophie screamed.
"Shh, people will hear you." Jacques said as he pressed Sophie's back against the side wall of the balcony, his hands on either sides of her face.
Sophie thought to protest, but Jacques had resumed his determined thrusting, and pleasure overrode modesty. They kissed hard, tongues tangling as the sun's rays caressed their naked skin. Sophie moaned into Jacques mouth with each thrust, clawing at his back as if to draw him further into herself.
Her legs tired, and she let her feet fall back down to the floor, separating herself from Jacques for a moment. She stepped to the center of the balcony and bent over, grabbing the black iron railing for support. When Jacques entered her gain, she could see the crowd below, gathering to watch the Waiters' Race.
Jacques' pace was much faster now, and she bucked back against him, arching her back of she came closer to the edge—both of her pleasure and of the balcony. Jacques reached around her waist to tease her clit with one hand, and around her torso to knead her breast.
Sophie moaned louder still, and as the heat in her body focused between her legs, she noticed one of the waiters in the race below looking up, and dropping his tray with a crash. She laughed and let go of the railing, Jacques' hold the only thing keeping her from falling.
With his climax approaching, Jacques thrust into Sophie's pussy so hard that her feet no longer touched the floor of the balcony.
Jacques pressed Sophie tightly against him as he came. It was then, that Sophie came held up above the city.
After they'd made themselves presentable again, Jacques and Sophie enjoyed the outdoor festivities sitting at on of the tables in front of the bistro. While they were sitting there sipping a refreshing white wine and sharing a cheese plate Jean had prepared for them, a waiter from one of the neighboring restaurants winked at Sophie and smiled. Sophie smiled back.
"So Fifie," Jacques said as he refilled Sophie's glass, "where would you like to go?"
"No, next weekend when we have dinner together." He looked up at her with an anxious expression that contradicted his confident words.
"You mean, like on a date," Sophie asked.
"Yes. Hopefully the first of many."
Thanks for reading my Nude Day 2007 contest entry.I hope you had fun. Please let me know what you thought with a vote or comment, and don't forget to read the other entries when you have a chance.