Leaving Madeleine - Part 14

We crossed the Seine at Pont Des Arts, which Brigitte informed was her favorite bridge, and continued on towards the Louvre Hotel. During our walk we discussed paintings we liked, the beauty of Paris, the excitements of China and Japan, and everything from religion to our favorite season. We also held several long stretches where neither of us said a thing, and neither of us felt uncomfortable about it. The night was calm and rewarding like most nights in Paris and all I could think about was the potential for sex at the end of it and the consequences of tomorrow.

Her aunt's place was a few minutes from the Louvre Hotel. Brigitte produced a mess of a key chain with multiple trinkets hanging off it and opened the door with one of what must have been fifteen or twenty keys.

"I used to believe the number of keys on a key chain were a sign of success," I said.

"How come?" she asked.

"Keys to a house, a car, a cottage, work, you know, on and on..."

"And now?"

"I don't know. I just had a lot of keys at one point and I wasn't very successful."

She nodded. It was the first time in our short relationship I felt self-conscious. We walked up five flights of creaky stairs, she produced another key, and we entered her aunt's flat. Brigitte flipped off her shoes and flicked on the light. I stepped out of my own shoes and rejoiced about the absence of holes in my socks.

"I hope my feet don't stink," she said staring at her bare feet.

I inhaled deeply. "Minus two hundred."

"What?" She flopped down on the floor and brought her foot almost to her nose. "I don't smell anything."

"I was kidding."

She punched me - quite hard too, for her weight class. "I'm sorry!" I said sheepishly.

"Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?" she asked jumping to her feet.

"Aren't you going to wake up your aunt?" I whispered.

"I told you, she's away."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't?"

"No."

"She's away," she shrugged. I have to go to the bathroom."

"Again?"

"I have a small bladder. That was an hour ago anyway!" she said walking away. "Can you put the movie on? It's in the cabinet thingy under the television." She disappeared down the hallway and I went to the forty-two inch widescreen in the living room.

The TV stand was indeed a cabinet and inside were several DVD cases, including a box set of Takeshi Kitano movies, everything up to, but not including, Zatoichi. I slipped out two of my favorites: Kids Return and Fireworks. Neither film approaches anything romantic, but the former was my introduction to the director, so I went with it. I popped the disc into the player next to the television, slid the cases back into the box, and found a couple of remotes on the table in front of the couch. Switching on the television, then the DVD player, I jumped to the menu screen and waited.

A large bay window to my right opened to the busy street below. I could hear cars zipping by along with the occasional pedestrian making their way to wherever they had to go. I started to think of how things might start. Would we watch the entire movie? Would it be here on the couch? Or would we take it to the bedroom? Maybe I was being presumptuous. Perhaps she wasn't envisioning any sexual activity at all. Why did she bring me here then? Was it shallow of me to think that she wanted to do more than just watch a movie and talk? What should my first move be? As I began to consider a couple of possibilities, I heard her coming out of the bathroom and enter the kitchen.

"Kids return alright?" I called out.

"Perfect, " she called back.

"Did you want tea? I have wine if you prefer."

"Tea's good," I said.

I listened to her work away in the kitchen. Water running, stopping, cups clinking, a fridge opening, closing, a cupboard doing the same...

I decided to join her. "Need help?" I asked in the doorway.

"Not really."

I took a seat at the kitchen table instead. The water came to a boil and the kettle shut off automatically. She filled two cotton filters with Mariage Frères tea, dropped them in a pot and poured the water over them.

"Black tea alright?" she asked.

"Sure," I responded. Then, for some reason, I got up and joined her at the counter. There were some macaroons on a saucer. I took one and popped it into my mouth.

"Who said you could do that?" she said playfully.

I finished chewing, swallowed, and decided to kiss her. She kissed back. I lifted her to the counter so she was sitting, our lips almost level. We stopped kissing for a moment to search each other’s eyes. Mixed with the surety and confidence I had seen all night, I saw something else. Something akin to fear or apprehension. It was hidden but I saw it. And as if realizing whatever it was had been exposed, she sought to explain it.

"I've never had a one night stand before," she told me.

I knew that wasn't it, but I went along anyway. "Is that what this is?"

"I don't want it to be."

"Me neither."

We kissed again. 

"You're kisses taste like macaroons," she whispered. We laughed at that as she slid down from the counter top, took my hand and led me out of the kitchen to a bedroom down the hall.

The furnishing of the room was simple. A twin bed, an armoire, white linen curtains, and a free standing full length mirror. She sat down at the edge of the bed and made to pull me into her. I kneeled on the floor instead, resting my hands on her thighs and pushing my lips into hers. I pulled off my shirt. She moved back toward the headboard and I crawled in over top of her. I kissed her neck, undid the buttons of her shirt and then the button of her jeans, followed by the zipper. I pulled off her jeans with some difficulty, undid the clasp on her lace bra and kissed the hard nipples on her small breasts. I reached my hand under her matching panties and felt inside her. She was very warm and very wet. And I was very hard. Just as I wandered if I was going to have to take my pants off on my own, she began to fumble with my belt. I helped her. With my pants off, I pulled down her underwear and did the same with mine. She removed her shirt and put her hand on me. We shared another kiss and silently told each other we were both ready. I went inside her and every thought other than pleasing her ran from my mind. The motion of her hips told me she had some experience. Our fingers interlocked, along with her ankles around my waist, and I felt her squeeze as she moaned and came. A little longer and I was there too. I pulled out and collapsed half on her, half on the bed. We lay in silence, enjoying one another in that way for some time. She rolled over and looked into my face. I kissed her a few times and she ran her hands through my hair. I looked for guilt and for Madeleine, but I couldn’t find either so I stopped looking.