I went on a Euro Trip with my best friend Kevin after we graduated college. On the third day of our second week, we arrived in Paris. We were both single and ready to get to know the local Parisian’s.
After we went to the Louvre, Monet’s Garden and the Eiffel Tower, we decided we wanted to see the local version of Paris. That night at our hostel, our Swedish friends told us about a rooftop soirée that they had been invited to by the local café owner.
That night, we walked to the address and heard music coming from above the city streets. We looked up and saw lights glowing from the rooftop and heard the sounds of laughter.
Kevin called out for our Swedish friend.
“Hey Bjorn?!”
We saw Bjorn’s mopey blonde curls bounce as his head popped over the side of the rooftop to look down at us.
“Bonjour! Climb the cape!” he shouted down to us.
Kevin and I exchanged glances.
“The cape?” I asked, confused.
“What?!” Kevin called up to Bjorn.
“The cape!” he repeated. “The fire cape!” as he pointed to the side of the brick building.
“Ohhh!” Kevin and I exclaimed in unison. We looked to the fire escape that led up to the roof.
I gave Kev a grabbed the ladder of the fire escape and we climbed the levels up the top. Our adrenaline started to surge.
We made it to the top and a group of about thirty people started to cheer.
Bjorn embraced us and handed us drinks.
“Welcome, welcome boys. Let me introduce you to the host of the party. I met him this morning at the café.”
He flung his left arm out to introduce us to an older Italian man in his 60s. His brown leathery skin wrinkled as he smiled and flashed us his bright white veneers. A wicker hat atop his silvery hair.
“Ciao ragazzi. Benvenuto. Welcome” His white mustache was tinged yellow from excessive smoking.
He grabbed both of us by the shoulders and turned us around to take in the festivities.
A live band played, people were dancing, drinking, eating, enjoying life. All being merry under the stars together. They were all young and beautiful. This was the spot to be.
“Enjoy” we heard our host whisper in our ears as he patted us on the shoulders and pushed us forward.
I tripped and stumbled forward as I tried to make sure my drink didn’t spill. I steadied myself and looked up. As if in a movie, the crowd on the dance floor parted to reveal a beautiful, blonde, young woman spinning gracefully with her eyes closed. Completely in the moment.
She was around 5’6”, she was petite and had curly blonde ringlets. Her fair skin was kissed with freckles. Her frilly sun dress swayed around her as she moved. Her eyes opened and locked right onto mine. They were bright blue. I could see the stars in them. She looked like a young Clemence Poesy.
I smiled. She smiled back sweetly and opened her palms as an invitation to join her on the dance floor.
I downed my drink and coolly walked over to her. She started swaying to the music, I started swaying. Our hips moving from side to side in unison. She looked up at me and I looked down at her.
“Bonjur, como tele vu?” I said softly.
She laughed at my American butchering of her language and replied back in a thick French accent.
“Howdy,” she said with a cheeky grin.
We laughed and she put her arms around my neck. I placed my hands on her waist. We kept swaying to the music as she got on her tippy toes and leaned in and kissed me. She pulled back and stared deeply into my eyes. She leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“Suivez moi” she said softly. She then turned around and walked off the dance floor.
I wracked my brain to search for that phrase in my French/English dictionary.
I smiled as it came to me.
“Follow me” I said to myself as I followed her off the dance floor.
We walked across the roof through the sea of people. She walked to a door that led down into a staircase. I followed her as she kept going down floor after floor. We arrived at the 6th floor as she opened the stairway door to reveal a wooden laid hallway. She led me down the hall to an apartment door that said 603.
She bent down and pulled a key out from the dirt of a potted plant next to the welcome mat. She blew off the residual dirt and showed the key to me like it was a trophy.
She opened the door of 603 and we headed in. The was a table by the front door that had car keys, unopened envelopes and a framed picture. I looked down and saw a much younger version of the host of the party, the mustachioed Italian with his arm around a beautiful brunette and two young girls standing in front of them. One blonde, one brunette.
“My Uncle, zio Marco” I heard her say as I looked at the picture.
I pointed to the blonde little girl. “Est-ce vous?”
“Qui, it’s me”
“Cute”
“Cute?”
“Oh, uh, jolie… belle”
“Oh, merci”
I felt her finger touch my left shoulder. She let her hand fall down my back. I was pulled backwards as she gripped her hands around my belt.
I spun around and looked at her. Our eyes were locked, not blinking. No sounds but our breaths steadily quickening. I placed my hands on either side of her face and pulled her towards me. Our lips locked and we started making out. She led me out onto the balcony where there was a small love seat next to a table with an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.
She sat me down. I was sitting semi up straight while my legs hung off the couch. She slowly lowered herself down on top of me and started kissing my neck.
I rubbed my hands up and down her bare arms. She reached back and moved my left hand onto her right ass cheek. I ran my hand down the back of her dress until I reached her bare skin above the back of her knee.
I let my hand slip under her dress and moved it up her thigh and onto her bare ass. She was wearing a thong. I lifted my hand up higher to her hip to wedge my finger in between her panty line and her skin and slowly started lowering her underwear.
She peeled them off her legs and flicked them on the balcony floor. She lifted her dress up, so it was sitting on her rib cage. Revealing her blonde bush. Her cute soft pink lips peeking out.
She undid my pants and pulled my erect penis out. I pulled a condom out of my pocket and put it on as she propped herself up and guided my throbbing cock inside her tight wet hole.
She giggled as I slid inside her. She took a quick breath in as my penis pushed deeper inside.
“Oh la la” she let out slowly.
My dick got more engorged as those words passed her lips.
She started grinding back and forth. Riding her American cowboy.
I pulled her dress off over her head to reveal her supple and juicy C cup breasts bouncing in my face.
I wrapped my mouth around her left areola and softly bit her nipple.
She let out a playful yelp.
I moved to her right breast and did the same thing. A low moan.
I grabbed her petite waist and lifted her off me. I stood her up, turned her around and bent her over the balcony. I slowly slid my cock inside her sweet French cunt and had my way with her. The street was dark, but her moans and yelps of pleasure echoed through the street into the night.
We finished out session by her jumping up and straddling me around my waist as I held her and fucked her standing up. We climaxed together as we looked into each other’s eyes.
I fell down onto the love seat from exhaustion. She lightly fell on top of me. She reached to the table and pulled two cigarettes out of a pack, put them in her mouth, lit them and handed me one. We smoked as we reeled in the thrill of our shared experience. We laid in silence until my eyes got heavy. The next moment, I opened my eyes to the sun coming up on the horizon.
My French dream girl stirred as I reached down and ran my hands through her golden locks.
She looked up at me half awake and smiled.
“Good morning” I smiled back.
She sat up and ruffled her hair and stretched. The sun bouncing off her perfect bare breasts.
She grabbed her dress and handed me my pants. We got dressed and headed back up to the roof. The place was littered with dozens of passed out people. A good time had been had last night, but I didn’t feel the least bit sad to have missed it. I grabbed my French girl’s hand and finally asked her the question.
“What’s your name? Votre nom?”
She smiled and said “Jocelyn”
I grabbed her hand and shook it.
“Ravi de vous rencontrer.”
“Nize to meetings you” she replied sweetly.
We watched the sunrise over the city. I scanned the roof. I saw the familiar sight of Bjorn’s mopey hair bopping up and down in the corner. I looked closer and saw him kneeling over a couch giving some lucky guy a blowjob.
Bjorn was just finishing, and I saw him pull his head up and wipe his mouth off. The guy pulled his head forward and zipped his pants up. It was Kevin. I guess he was experimenting while abroad.
When they were done, I introduced Kevin and Bjorn to Jocelyn.
All four of us went to the café to get coffee and breakfast and spent the next three days touring around France, Jocelyn as our guide.
Jocelyn and Bjorn saw us off at the train station as we headed for Spain. We both kissed our European lovers and bid them farewell.
It’s been six years since our trip. I met up with Jocelyn in Fiji a few years back for a week-long vacation. Kevin has seen Bjorn a few times but has been with his current girlfriend for 2 years.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lc3gm8/euro_trip_mf