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Three Months In Paris Part Four free porn video
The soft light coming through the french windows finally aroused me from
my slumber. A smile was already on my lips. All through the night soft
hands caressed bodies and bra clad breasts would come into clenching
contact. Occasionally a smooth creamy pair of lips would nibble a
dangling earlobe. No attempt was made at overt sex. We simply enjoyed
being two women in a night long embrace.
As I opened my eyes just a little, I reached behind me to hopefully
squeeze one of Claudette's amazingly soft breasts. But she was not there.
I rose on an elbow and looked around the bedroom. No Claudette. Then I
spied a note stuck to my makeup mirror. The vixen, she knew that I would
surely see her note in THAT location.
"Dearest Wendy, mon ami, the softness off your embrace is matched only by
the softness of your kiss. The night was divine. Unfortunately I must
leave you to your own devices for a couple of day. Before I was
captivated by your beauty in the courtyard, I had already made plans to
visit my sister and her family in Nice. I will be back in three days.
Then the slumber party I promised you will surely take place. After all
you and I have been through these last few days, I have no doubt that you
are ready to tackle Paris and the world of Paris womanhood with no
problems at all. Be confident in yourself. As I am confident in you.
Enjoy your time by yourself and treat "Wendy" to every feminine pleasure
you can think of. And I will try to think of some you haven't yet thought
of for when I return."
"P.S.: Remember, you have those tampons if your monthly time should
descend upon you!"
I smiled. So like Claudette to leave me such a charming note. I would
miss her for those few days but I was also somewhat energized to really
experience Paris as a woman on my own. I would have to do it sometime and
this seemed like just the time.
I attended to my morning toilette and started to put on my bra when I
stopped. I thought that this morning I would stroll the shops of
St.Germain and even wander down the Rue de Rennes to the upscale woman's
delight which is The Bon Marche department store. I had the feeling that
I might need a few more bras and smoother things if I was to stay
fashionably dressed for three whole months. This was only the first five
days.
So I slipped on a pair of white silk panties. And that was it. No bra.
After coffee and a roll I did my makeup. A simple affair of a light
foundation, a hint of azure eye shadow, gray mascara , light rose blush
and lips kissed with a dewy pink.
I took my hair net off and lightly brushed my shinning silver hair to
fall as Silvia had commanded. The set was still there. Each strand of
hair fell into it's required location. I clipped 1 and1/2 inch red enamel
disks to each ear and added a 3 inch red enamel rounded bracelet to ear
wrist. Then I stepped into a rayon white with red rose print muumuu. Open
thong sandals with a white leather t-strap and a red rosette on each vamp
made Wendy a happy girl. I topped off the outfit with a small white
crocheted cloche hat. My bangs peeked out and the under rolls of my page
boy looked so cute coming out of the sides of the hat.
I did a few chores around the apartment. I was feeling very domestic.
Maybe I would have to get a maid's uniform to complete my domesticity.
Claudette might like that. Wendy sure would.
I made sure my purse was ready for a morning of shopping and I stepped
out the door. After a few steps I realized something was different. I
felt different. Freer. Then I realized that after several days of almost
continuous bra and girdle confinement, all I had on was a pair of panties
and a flowing muumuu. My breasts were singing at their freedom. My
natural 38B's gloried in the feel of the loose top muumuu. There was
still enough mounded shape to signify femininity, just a more joyous
natural bounce. The muumuu hung almost to mid calf so there was a lot of
swishing activity as I walked. With the coming warmth of this Parisian
morning, my body adored the cool breezes which blew up my skirt and
across my scoop necked bodice. I felt like a school girl, playing hooky
from her bra and girdle. Quite delicious!
I languidly strolled towards the Rue de Rennes. If I saw a boutique which
looked interesting I would pop in, greet the clerk with a breezy
"Bonjour", browse as any woman would and possibly pick out a bobble or
shiny trinket which caught my eye. I found that I had a partiality to
long dangling earrings. And I couldn't pass up the gold lame ballet flats
which called my name from the shop window.
I passed Prada and Yves St. Laurant, Dior, and Louis Voitton, almost
drooling at their offerings. When I came to Chanel, I could not resist.
Though my muumuu was surely not the dress most of their customers wore to
purchase their goodies, I had to have an icon. I went immediately to the
cosmetic counter. The Chanel lipstick tube with it's crossed "C" logo was
something every well dressed woman had to have in her purse. The lovely
young lady complimented me on my hair and make up look and was happy to
show me numerous shades of their signature lipstick. As I typical woman,
I had a terrible time making up my mind. But I finally settled on a
luscious color called French Raspberry. As a matter of fact, I bought two
tubes. One for me and one for Claudette. She and, hopefully, I would look
stunning in French Raspberry. I was not in Kansas anymore, nor at the
Jiffy Lube.
Very shortly after my pilgrimage to Chanel I arrived at The Bon Marche. I
didn't know where to turn to first. Blouses jumped out at me. Shoes ran
into my way. But Lingerie grabbed me and held on tight. A girl can never
have too many bras and panties. Most of what I already had were quite
mundane. Today's purchases were not to be mundane. With only a muumuu to
discard, trying bras on was very easy. Startling prints, exotic cups,
sheer fabrics, glow in the dark colors, fiendish strap arrangements. I
was in heaven. The shop assistant made sure that each item fit properly
and achieved maximum femininity. It was so charming to have her hold each
cup in her hands to be sure the flesh and the fabric meshed. I spent
several hundred euros just on bras. Then my other objective of the
morning was taken care of. I had to have an all-in-one corselette. It was
something which I knew every woman of my age and generation had to have.
My helper was attuned to my needs and brought me a gorgeous number in
shinning white with maximum control at the derriere and at the waist and
tremendous push up power at the bosom. The delicate cups were a hell of a
lot stronger than they looked. They molded my breasts into twin peaks of
delight for any man. Or woman. I felt that now my foundation collection
was complete. At least till next week.
After Bon Marche I stopped at a sidewalk cafe and had a latte and a flirt
with the young waiter. They seem to like well dresses, well made up older
women. Then I decided to walk back to the apartment and maybe even go to
the quasi beach on the Seine. "Paris Plage" was set up each August on the
left bank of the Seine. Thousands of ton of sand and parasols and hot dog
stands were trucked onto the edges of the Seine. Parisians by the
thousands come to enjoy a taste of what the south of France enjoys all
the time.
I reached the apartment and really it didn't take me too long to pack a
straw bag for the beach. A beach towel and some tanning lotion. Was all I
needed. I stepped out of my muumuu and took the swimsuit I had bought the
other day out of the drawer. It was a Victoria Secret Firm Control Retro
One Piece. In a medium rose color, completely ruched.
I stepped into my first woman's swimsuit and almost fainted at the
sensuous feel and fit.
It had shoulder straps which widened at the bosom and a slimming control
body and high cut leg opening which tightly controlled the "V" of
womanhood at the bottom of the suit. Molded cups latched onto my breasts
and proudly stood firm.
After admiring my figure for several minutes, I dropped the muumuu over
my head and stepped into my sandals, with my cherry red polish glowing. I
discarded the cloche hat and popped on a white straw skimmer. I was ready
for the beach. On the way I stopped at the same Pharmacie where I had
bought the hair nets and the shower cap and bought a pair of Jackie O
type sunglasses with huge white rims. The same nice gentleman was behind
the counter for both my purchases and smiled charmingly each time. This
time his hand brushed mine when giving me my change.
"Madame, it is a pleasure to serve you. Please come again. If I can do
anything for you, I am always here. My name is Jacque."
"Monsieur Jacque, my name is Wendy. And I am delighted to meet you. You
have a very nice establishment here. Thank you for your assistance. I am
going to the beach, can you believe it, here in Paris."
"Have a wonderful time, Madame Wendy. I may see you around the
arrondissement, I live quite close by on the Rue Jacob."
"So do I, at least for the next three months. I hope we do see each other
around. I would like that very much."
"Au revoir, Monsieur Jacque, the sand awaits."
Indeed it did await. I joined thousands of Parisians, men, women and
children on the banks of the Seine. I found a spot across from the Louvre
and spread my blanket. The blanket I bought the other day was printed
with a brilliant red set of woman's lips across it. It attracted a few
eyes among my neighbors and I enjoyed an audience as I removed my muumuu
to reveal my swimsuit clad figure. I was not in the least ashamed,
humiliated, or nervous at my first time as a woman lounging on the beach.
My perky cups made sure of that.
I laid down on the cotton towel lips on my stomach and allowed the sun to
print tan lines around the curved silhouette of the straps of my
swimsuit. I loved the way the molded cups felt as my breasts and body
tried to squash them. I may have dozed but after a good long length of
time I rolled over to bake the curved lines of my suit's bra into my
skin. Claudette would be quite surprised when next she saw me naked.
Maybe I would get up enough courage to buy a bikini. Or at least a two
piece swimsuit with a top which almost could double as a bra under a
blouse. That would be more my style if I did have the courage for a
bikini.
After baking, I sat up and reached into my bag and took out my compact
and lipstick. What can be more sensually feminine than doing one's lip's
at the beach in a tight figure enhancing swimsuit? Nothing! Mt cherry
red toes dug into the sand and my vermillion finger nails made sure my
molded cup bra had not shifted. I turned my silver head and looked around
me and saw several older males abruptly turn their eyes in another
direction. That's a shame. Come on over and say Hi, guys. I can handle
you.
A casual walk back to my apartment and a little rest and then to Cafe le
Flore for a bite alone. This has been a beautiful day for a woman alone
in Paris. And time for a womanly age to go to bed so she can have the
energy for more womanly pleasures on her next day in Paris.
"I wonder where Jacque lives?" For some reason I also wondered if he was
married.
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Three Months in Paris
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