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this is my moment with you .”
    “That’s how I feel,” he said. “And wonderful things can happen even when you only have that moment.”
    He reached under the table and stroked her thigh. “No strings, just a…a short vacation from our lives? And nobody needs to know.” He drank his espresso and tore a croissant.
    “It’s a deal. I never knew it could be so easy.” They smiled at each other. “Have you done this before? Since you were married?”
    “Maybe once or twice… I’ve been married a long time,” he answered with a wink. “So it’s a deal. It’s between us.” He extended his hand.
    She took it and he pulled her toward him for a kiss. She laughed and drew away. “This won’t get us far in Paris,” she said.
    “I don’t care. You’re what I want to see in Paris, baby,” he answered, lifting her shirt to stroke her breast. “Come back to bed with me,” he said, kissing her neck. He led her by the hand, and they fumbled their way back to the bedroom. They fell on the bed and he kissed her body, making his way down to her pussy.
    Philippe hadn’t bothered with oral sex for years. Now a soft stroke of Oscar’s tongue on her inside lips made her quiver. His tongue found her clit and he sucked it gently. At the same time, he slid a finger in and out of her rhythmically, and in minutes her body rose in a tide of sensation.
    Before she could come, he moved up and pushed his thick sex into her. Every nerve she possessed was now riding the white water of body bliss. “Taste your sweet honey,” he whispered. “Give me your tongue.” She parted her lips and he licked her tongue, and they exchanged her juices as they kissed again. He pumped her sopping wet cunt, and when she began to cry out, he let himself come, bursting into her with shivers of pleasure.
    They lay together in a sticky mess of sweat and cum, and finally came apart. But it didn’t last long. They began to kiss again, fondling and stroking each other’s body.
    “How about a shower…again?” Oscar suggested. “And this time you come with me. Then we’ll get out and enjoy the city, like we planned.”
    “I am enjoying the city,” Valérie said, “since you’re in it.”

    He led her off the bed and into the shower. Water flowed and they soaped one another, sending bubbles running down and around and across hard and soft flesh, over breasts and taut muscles, soft curves and asses. Valérie soaped Oscar’s soft penis, pumping it with her warm, wet hand, and it came to life again, hard and hungry.
    “Turn around,” he whispered in her ear. “I need to fuck you again….” She turned, and he entered her from behind, pumping hard while the warm water fell between them. He stroked her tits from behind and she caressed her own sex. “I want you to suck me before I come again,” he urged. He pulled himself out, still hard and straining.
    She went on her knees on the floor of the tub and took him in her mouth. He was bigger and wider than Philippe, and when she couldn’t hold him in she sucked the purple tip of his cock, and licked it like candy. He moaned and grunted, spurting over her face. She caught some cum with her tongue and he groaned again. He dropped to his knees and kissed her deeply, tasting himself in her mouth.
    “Okay,” he laughed, when they had recovered from the moment. “Now let’s really get out of here.” They finally cleaned up, dressed and prepared to leave the apartment.

Tourists in the City
    They decided to visit the Centre Pompidou. Valérie hadn’t gone in years, and Oscar, always more interested in athletics, had toured few galleries. The diverse and modern collections gave them much to talk about, and they continued their conversation over lunch in a casual bistro where they ordered steak frites and a bottle of light rosé. They shared clafoutis aux cerise for dessert like lovers. They walked through the old neighborhoods and admired buildings that Valérie hadn’t looked at in years.