Baise-moi, Mon Amant

As always, I hope you enjoy this. A vote and/or a comment from you is a good reward for us writers. The dialogue at the end surprised me, but came out like that; your thoughts are welcome.

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He came out of the surf.

The afternoon sun was gleaming on the water around him, highlighting the tiny, swirling bubbles as they rose and burst, making the seawater fizz. As he churned through the shallows, wavelets slapped his legs. He felt each motion of the water against him, every tug and lift. He felt the sun on his back and across his shoulders, the tingle that meant that sunburn was on its way if he was not careful. The hard sand under the water became soft, wet sand at the water's edge, then dry sand above the tideline. He watched his feet pressing into the coarse grains and felt the gentle abrasion.

The swim had been good. For this short trip back to his home town, he did not think there would be time for a surf, but the combination of good weather and good memories seemed to direct him down to the beach. Now, he felt relaxed and refreshed, and slightly nostalgic: he had walked out of the surf in just the same way so many times as he grew up.

He reached his towel and shirt (the only things he had brought) and started to dry himself, then thought better of it. He used to enjoy the feeling of salty water drying on his skin: he would try it again, for old time's sake.

Leaving the beach, he climbed the stairs rising up the low cliff. The town council charged brutal fees for parking at the beach, but he knew that the little streets at the top of the cliff allowed free parking, for only a slightly longer walk. He picked up his car key where he'd hidden it in a crack in the rock - no risk of losing it in the sand that way. His shirt rubbed the salt on his shoulders in an old, familiar way.

He got to his car, slipped into the passenger seat and stripped off his wet trunks. He gave himself a quick pat down then wriggled into his shorts. This too was a well-known manoeuvre. He got out and went around to the driver's side. Only then did he notice the girl standing in the road, a short way off.

She was standing near another car, pointing and gesturing, talking to the driver. He heard a tentative revving, then saw frantic waving. The car jerked to a halt, now protruding into the road at a messy angle. After a moment he worked out that the car must have been parked in. The stander was spotting for the driver so they used as much of the little space they had. In addition, the revving told him the car was a manual with an inexperienced driver, which would make inching out of a tight spot much harder.

Now what? With the road blocked, he had to wait for them to eventually get out. But how long would that take? He could go and offer to help - but that would be demeaning, wouldn't it? Or possibly creepy. How much time did he have? He glanced at his watch, then up the road... the girl was standing, leaning on one leg in a suddenly very familiar way... he had to check.

The stance, the arms folded, the steady gaze as he walked towards her... it was her. Was it? The swim at the old beach, the nostalgia, the warm sun, the salt, it was all playing tricks in his mind. He addressed the parking problem.

"That looks tricky. Someone's come in after you and parked you in pretty tight, I'm guessing." The driver looked up at him and scowled. She had much darker hair than her light brown friend in the street. He didn't recognise her, but as to the other one, he was certain.

"It's, it's Ghislaine, isn't it. Hi!"

The aloof gaze melted into a broad smile, accentuated by a gap between the front teeth. Seeing it, his heart skipped a beat. "Rollsy! Hell, I didn't pick you at all! I thought you were just some dickhead about to mansplain everything to us!"

The driver spoke up. "Hey Gill, did he just call you Ghislaine correctly? Jill-enne? Really? Nobody says it properly!!" She was amused by this, and relieved. The scowl softened as well.

"Oh yes. Sophie, this is Roland, an old, old friend. Are you still Rolls? 'The only Rolls I'll ever own is my name!' I still remember your awful jokes!" She gave him a very warm hug. "Rollsy will get us out of this!"

But after a few attempts, and an explanation of "right hand down, left hand down", the car was still firmly wedged in. Sophie was getting flustered; not being used to a manual gear shift was making matters worse.

"Look, I don't know if a mansplainer is better or worse than a guy who just takes over, but if you like, I could have a go."

"Well, a man's fucked up this morning, I guess you can't make it much worse." That wasn't quite the reply he was expecting, but he took it as a 'yes'. Sophie got out of the car.

"Just, you know, be careful. My brother hates me borrowing his car, So if it gets a dent I reckon he's gonna kill me."

It was an old Mini, a tiny car, ridiculously low to the ground, but so light and manoeuvrable and simply great fun to drive. No wonder Sophie had "borrowed" it. Roland's own brother had driven one years ago and he knew a few of its oddities. He sat in the car and adjusted the mirrors so he could see his corners better. Ghislaine leant her elbows on the window sill of the car and spoke softly.

"Thanks. Yeah, Sophie's boyfriend broke it off this morning and she's pretty upset. She thought it was going to be... something special today. And I was the one who suggested coming down for a swim, in the bro's Mini, for a bit of a distraction. So, if you could sort this out..."

She smiled (showing that gap again) and tilted her head slightly, left, right, left. He vividly recalled how she would do that. It was instead of asking him directly, and every time he would agree, to anything. He smiled back at her, then quickly looked away from the view down her front she was giving him.

It took a few attempts, but at last the car was free, and dent-free as well. Roland could feel Sophie's relief. She gave him a warm smile, which he found quite attractive, especially after the looks he had got earlier. Ghislaine gave him that broad smile that used to stop him in his tracks.

"Thank you. That is a huge relief, let me tell you! We owe you one. In fact... what are you doing right now? We were just going back for a few drinks & some badly-heated frozen pizza. Would you like...?" Ghislaine's breezy offer surprised Sophie, who probably was not exactly in the mood for having company. Roland tried to gauge the situation, but took too long.

"Good! Well, I'll give you the address, or you could just follow us. Let's go, Sophe!"

He followed the little car, with the two girls clearly discussing something important, judging by the hands. Ghislaine was doing most of the talking, even with a phone up to her ear. He hoped she wasn't wearing her friend down to accepting him. He decided he'd stay for just one drink.

Ghislaine's phone reminded him he should text his parents. One drink or not, he didn't want them waiting for him for dinner. He felt a momentary twinge of remorse and resolved he'd visit them more. The possibility of seeing Ghislaine more often helped him.

On the way, the girls stopped outside a fish and chip shop. He pulled in a short way back and watched. He smiled to himself: I'm now a minor character in a bad cop show, he thought. Suspects entering premises. Card purchase. In possession of the package.

The girls came out of the shop, still talking.

It turned out to be excellent fish and chips. The fish was soft and flavoursome, the chips thick and crunchy. Roland tried a scallop for the first time and decided he would get these in future. Cold beers from the fridge made sure everyone was relaxed. Ghislaine clinked her bottle against his.

"Rolls, Rollsy, Roland. Here you are, at last. All those years at school, thinking about me - I could tell you were interested! All those secret looks across the room. Don't worry, I secretly enjoyed them! You wanted me, didn't you, you chased after me! For how long? And, all you had to do was wait till I had car trouble!" She laughed as she said it.

"Yep, wait a couple years - how many now? - and she'll come running!" Roland tilted his beer to her as another toast. "Go and tell that to the next horny 16 year-old you see! Ah Gill, you have no idea how much I wanted you! I was so infatuated with the slim, exotic girl with the French parents. I even kept up the French because you were doing it - that's why I can say your name properly, Jill-enne. I remember now, I'd go around whispering "Ghislaine, je t'aime." Oh boy! I hope I wasn't too embarrassing!"

"Only occasionally! You were so polite, it was easy to keep you off. Huh, when I look back at some of my boy choices... in a way I wish I hadn't tried so hard to keep you off." Her voice trailed off, then she changed topic abruptly. "Sophie! Tell us an awkward high school story!"

More stories, more drinks, more laughs. Roland forgot all about the one-drink decision. Sophie had accepted him completely now.

He caught himself staring at Ghislaine's lips. "I did get a kiss from you, if I remember right. Some party or other. You were the best kisser I knew." She put her fingertips on her chest and nodded demurely in thanks.

"I want to kiss you again!"

Inside, Roland was stunned. It just came out. Was this flirting? The beer talking? Or just wishful thinking, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure he should even have said it.

"Well sir, perhaps you should ask."

They locked eyes for a second and he noticed the tiny nod of her head, left, right, left. She said softly, "Say, 'Ghislaine, peux-je t'embrasser'."

He had always been good at mimicking the recordings from the French textbook, so it came easily to him.

"Ghislaine, peux-je t'embrasser?"

He had a surreal sense of going backwards in time as she came over and sat on the couch beside him. She looked at him calmly, put one hand up to his cheek and gently kissed him on the mouth. The softness of her lips startled him - they stayed against his, as the hand stayed on his cheek. A cascade of memories poured through him: a school dance when she gave him so much attention, her graceful walk (but her assertive stance), her smile in the sunshine, her hair sparkling with highlights. It made him dizzy now. She pulled away and gazed at him.

"Mmmm, you're good!" A flutter in her eyes suggested she was experiencing something similar. Her breath quickened. "Encore une fois!"

They kissed again. He felt her lips again, then her tongue exploring him. His tongue felt the gap between her two front teeth and this gave him a jolt through his body. He felt her other hand come up to him and caress him as her arousal grew. He pushed his fingers through her hair as their bodies pressed together. Sophie was completely forgotten.

With a start he realised what was happening. He pulled back from her, leaving her blinking with surprise. He could feel his face flush. He was sure his feelings were obvious.

Her face softened and she gave him a tiny smile. "You still want me!"

Of course I still want you, he thought wryly. I was crazy about you once, and it was only a few years ago. He gave her a little kiss, un bisou, to show he agreed.

"Sophe, remember what we were talking about earlier? This could be our chance!" Sophie gasped.

"And look at the interest in his shorts! And Rollsy's getting to me - I've got all sorts of crazy ideas in my head right now. Do you want to watch us?"

Roland leaned back stiffly, frowning. To placate him, Ghislaine leant in close.

"You remember what I said earlier aout Sophie? She and the boyfriend were going to... go all the way. Her first time. But he bails. Dumps her. With a voicemail. So you can see how he fucked up the day, eh? So now she's all worked up for some nice moves, and at the same time wondering If men are even worth the effort." She kissed him on the lips.

"I think my friend needs to see it. See some tender sex. Could we do it, for old times sake? While she, you know, kind of, watches?"

Ghislaine was flushed now, with excitement, anxiety or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. He too was full of conflicting emotions. He had been startled by the offer, then excited, puzzled, worried, all at once.

"Are you interested?"

"Ghislaine, you are totally insane!"

"Well, not totally. But you still want me, remember? And I want you. I've thought about you, over the years. Hell, I'm getting turned on thinking about it now!" She ran a fingernail down his chest. They both noticed his breathing change. The bulge in his shorts showed his body's inclination. He thought he could see it move.

"I wish I could think of a reason why this is a bad idea! Like, what have you been doing since school? Or do you even know what I've got up to? Are we even clean?"

Ghislaine only smiled. "Rollsy, I know you too well! You are just too decent to be a bad boy! Me... can you trust me? I'm still the same Gill you used to know. Je restais moi-même."

He remembered the effect her little French phrases always had on him - they still worked. The attractive company, the food, the drinks, even the swim on the old beach, were all working on him, and her mad idea was starting to feel normal.

"I guess... but I don't have any protection..."

Now she knew he was clutching at straws. "You are sweet, Rolls! As you always were. I don't want trouble any more than you do. I've taken care of that, with a little Pill once a day.

Roland felt he was surrendering to an implacable force, a feeling which conflicted with his growing arousal. This is crazy, he told himself. Either accept her offer or stand up and walk out.

"I'll stay. But I need to use your bathroom."

"Can we watch?" Ghislaine's straightforward question clearly had only one correct answer, but still he pondered. Ah well, the bizarre is now the normal.

"Really? It's just me, just, peeing..." He could not decide if he wanted the company or not. Logic had left him.

Sophie had stifled the giggle that rose out of her and finally managed to speak.

"I'll show you where it is."

Down the hallway, standing at the door, she opened it for him. He went in, then hesitated. He looked around to see the two of them standing in the doorway.

"Just pretend we're not here." This brought an eruption of giggles from both of them.

Roland shook his head and went over to the toilet. The girls crept in and sat on the edge of the bath.

Roland found he was almost observing himself as he faced the toilet. He wondered if anything would come out, or if having audience would bring on stage fright. He watched himself unzip his shorts and take out his penis and draw the foreskin back. One of the girls took a breath.

A short pause, then release. Urine streamed from the head. Sophie whispered, "Oh! It's weeing!" almost with disbelief.

He finished off, had a couple of shakes and was returning it, when Ghislaine spoke up. "Is that it? No paper?"

"Not usually, no."

"Well, that's pretty efficient. And a tidy stream. I always thought boys were worse than girls at everything except kicking a ball and shouting, but now I'll have to add, having a pee." It warmed Roland to remember her cheeky sense of humour.

"You do wash your hands, don't you!"

"Well, if it matters..." The girls shuddered. He washed his hands.

"This way now." Ghislaine took them to a bedroom with an 'S' on the door. They went into Sophie's room. Ghislaine sat on the foot of the bed and put out her hand for Roland to join her. Sophie stood uncertainly at the door, then came in and stood to one side, waiting.

Ghislaine drew him in for another kiss. They kissed, softly and tenderly. Roland was slightly dizzy again, feeling the soft lips, faint taste of lip gloss, her tongue exploring his. He felt the hand on his chest fumbling with his shirt buttons and something became real. It's happening, it's really happening, he thought. All that longing for her years ago, and here we are...

His own shirt seemed to vanish and he was naked from the waist up. Ghislaine put her hands on his shoulders, then noticed the salty layer on his bare skin. She rubbed her fingertips and tasted them, giving him a knowing smile when she realised what she was sensing. His skin was still tingling under the track of her fingertips.

They kissed hurriedly, lips to lips, necks, ears, collarbone. She pulled back slightly. "Don't rush." she murmured. "Enjoy me!"

"Oh, I am, don't worry!"

He was enjoying the feel of her slim body under his hands, Feeling her ribs move with her breathing, feeling her shrug and roll her head with pleasure as he rubbed her neck. He tugged at her top and she slipped it easily up over her head, revealing her sports bra. That was soon lifted off to show her very small breasts. Roland stopped and gazed at them. He could see the faint outline of her breast bone.

"That's beautiful!" he whispered. He reached out and gently cupped and squeezed each one, feeling each nipple harden to small points. Her breath quickened.

She became more insistent, pulling him to her and squeezing his shoulders. She ran her hands through his hair, then down his back and sides to his waist. Her hands went up and found each of his nipples, smaller than hers. She opened his shorts and his cock sprang out, free at last. Ghislaine laughed.

"Going commando! I bet you knew you were going to get naked this afternoon! Hmm, well he's glad to see me! a bit hairy but looking nice!" She pulled the skin up and down a few times. Her slim fingers rustled his pubic hairs and hefted the weight of his balls. He sighed with pleasure.

"Well soldier, may as well get all your kit off now!" She tugged at his pants.

Naked, on the bed, he sat as Ghislaine played with his rod. His skin tingled again to her touch and the warmth of her body. She looked over at Sophie.

"A cock. A dick. A boner. A prick. The little head that thinks for the big head. You can play with it, you can kiss it, you can suck it. All the pornos do that but frankly girl, unless he's just stepped out of the shower it doesn't taste that good... but this one's straight off the beach, commando as well, so..."

She gave it a kiss. "Salty! That's new for me." She ran her tongue around the rim of the head, locking her eyes onto his as she did it.

This sent dizzying thrills through Roland. He resisted the urge to thrust up into those soft lips. He looked down at her and ran his hand down her back, over the bumps of her spine and into her pants, fingers into the warm crevice of her bottom. Suddenly he wanted to taste her, nice as this felt.

He made her sit up, then reached in to her pantie elastic. She stood up and smoothly slid them down her thighs, showing slight, barely spreading hips and between them a vee of short dark brown hairs. She stepped lightly out of them, almost like dancer.

"Gill, you're hairy!" Sophie was astonished.

"Yeah I know. I was shaving for a bit, but then I couldn't be arsed any more." Roland had to laugh at her blunt rejection, especially after the graceful undressing.

Sophie laughed too. "That's why you gave me those funny answers when I asked you yesterday, if I should..."

Ghislaine smirked. "I'm guessing you made your mind up anyhow. Maybe he can compare?" Sophie blushed.

Ghislaine flicked the doona off the bed and got onto the bare sheet. She moved herself up the bed and sat back, propped up on her elbows, legs stretched out. Roland stalked her on hands and knees, kissing random parts up her body until he was level with her face. He kissed her on those soft lips again, feeling them give as their tongues played with each other. He kissed her chin and down her neck. She purred softly and he felt it through her skin.

He caressed her small breasts flattened on her chest. He kissed the pink areoles and tongued each nipple back to hardness. He could sense her chest moving with each breath, see the ribs move each time.