French Kiss - Sex Stories

French Kiss

... direction. He liked me or at least fancied me. That was good. I fancied him come to think of it. He was the total opposite to Matt and I found that refreshing. Matt was tall, slender and took great pride in his appearance. He was fond of routine and rarely let himself go. Jacques was short, on the podgy side and always looked a bit ruffled. He also struck me as a happy-go-lucky sort of person who would go with the flow. That appealed to me. I’d been like that, once. I suddenly thought of Matt. He hadn’t come to find me and yet he’d know I was in the bar. Where else would I go? A lump formed in my throat. The end may have been coming for a long time but it still hurt. Jacques waved to me from across the bar and held up two beers. I quickly composed myself and beckoned him over. “I’m done for the night, Fabien just took over. Do you want to talk?” I shook my head, nodded then shook my head again. “Okay,” Jacques smiled. “Tell me what's the bust-up over this time?” “I honestly don’t know!” I shrugged. It was true, I didn’t. Something trivial had triggered our latest row and it had escalated from there. “So Lisa,” smiled Jacques, “what would you like to do to cheer yourself up?” I hesitated. Was that a proposition? “Well?” he asked softly. I reached out my hand and gently stroked his arm to see how he’d respond. Jacques took my hand in his. It was a proposition. “What’s on offer?” I dared to ask. Jacques leaned towards me. “Anything you want.” “Anything?” He raised an eyebrow and ...

... nodded. “What would you like to do?” I enquired turning his question back on him. “Oh, let me see,” he grinned roguishly. “I’d like to remove that tight skirt of yours, feel-up that gorgeous ass and fuck you right here in the bar.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head! I burst out laughing and slapped my hands across my mouth. Jacques looked bemused. “Why’s that funny? You like me don’t you?” “Yes, I do but…” He shrugged. “But what? Come on Lisa, let me have a piece of that ass.” “I’m tempted, Jacques,” I giggled, “but I can’t.” “Why? I think you’re hot and I want you. If you like me, why not fuck me?” I gazed at him, astounded by his frankness. “Because…” “Matt? Do you feel guilty?” I thought about that. “No,” I said. “Jacques, don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not going to tell me you love me, are you?” Jacques laughed. “No, I’m offering casual sex. If you want more then we should forget all this. We can sit here and talk instead.” I squeezed Jacques’ hand. “Casual sex is good. I’m a bit out of practice but...” “So get some practice. Let me fuck you,” he smirked. “I’m very good,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. I was intrigued but knew I should walk away. My relationship with Matt may be over but storming off to the bar and promptly screwing the barman was a cruel and I wasn’t a vindictive person. But what about me? I needed to be happy. I always put Matt first so maybe it was time I didn’t? So there I was, in the bar, drink in hand being propositioned by a very ...