Guillaume Bacharene
bacharene@gmail.com
This story is fiction although based on some factual details from many years ago.
I own a house in a small French village in Languedoc in the south of France and close to Spain. It is where I go to chill out and create space in my head and my life. Although I am quite well known in the village, I keep to myself, not wishing to get involved in the local "politics" and often complicated interpersonal dynamics of the village.
Bringing Jeremy Out of His Shell
It was summer and very hot. I had been cleaning my large garage and terrace areas all morning and had retreated to the cool of the house for a cold drink. The doorbell rang. I went to see who it was, expecting it to be the post lady since people generally don't just call in unannounced or uninvited in France and I was in fact expecting a package. It was Mme Giselle Laforˆt, who I knew vaguely, having met her at various village events. She had a handsome young man with her who looked about 17. She smiled and apologised for calling in uninvited.
"But, monsieur, I wanted to ask for you help if possible. This is my grandson, Jeremy."
Jeremy blushed and stepped forward to shake hands.
Mme Laforˆt continued, "Jeremy's grandfather was English and always wanted Jeremy to become fluent in the language. In his will, he set aside some money for this purpose. Before his death and while Jeremy was young, my husband - his grandfather - always spoke to him in English although with everyone else he spoke French. My own English is terrible. So, I wanted to ask you: would you be prepared to help Jeremy with his English and of course, we will use the funds from his grandfather to cover the costs."
The request caught me off guard somewhat. It was the last thing I expected to happen where typical of most villages around, very few people spoke any English at all let alone wanting to learn it.
I hesitated, turning things over in my mind. "Of course, monsieur, if it is too much trouble, I understand perfectly." Mme Laforˆt stepped back."
"Not at all Madame. I would of course be happy to help but please, I don't wish to be paid," I said. Jeremy's face lit up. I continued, "Why don't you both come in and we can work out how best to do it. And, I do apologise for looking so dishevelled and dusty but I have spent the entire morning cleaning." We all sat down at the large table in my kitchen. I poured them both a glass of iced water and spoke to Jeremy in English. "So Jeremy, where would you say your English is at currently?"
"I think my English is good but I need confidence to speak. I also need help to understand some grammar I find complicated in English; phrasal verbs, for example." I nodded.
Mme Laforˆt added, "Jeremy is rather shy but every intelligent and once he gets to know someone he likes, becomes transformed, opens up."
Jeremy blushed again. We switched back to French. "So, Jeremy, how do you think this might work best for you?"
"Well, monsieur, it depends on you really. Any help you can give will be welcome but as M‚m‚ implies, it is really your call and depending on what you think and the time you might have available. I would be grateful for anything."
I thought for a moment: "What about this: lets work on four intensive sessions each week for say, 4 hours. We can then review how that goes and make any changes needed?" Jeremy's face and that of Mme Laforˆt both lit up.
"So, agreed then. When could we start?" Mme Laforˆt leaned forward.
"What about tomorrow," I suggested, "at 10:00am? We could go through until 2:00pm."
"Excellent. Tomorrow, 10:00am until 2:00pm it is then."
So, Jeremy and I settled into a program. The first day, Mme Laforˆt arrived with Jeremy, each with six bottles of excellent champagne. Thereafter, Jeremy would bring two bottles of good wine each visit. Mme Laforˆt explained: "Since you don't want to be paid with money, this is the least we can do." She asked if she could sit in on Jeremy's first session, to which I agreed. I made coffee for us all and had a selection of macaroons.
I had worked out some exercises, reversing what I had done when I teach English people French. So, it was not a lot of work. Firstly, I had Jeremy read some passages from a selection of good English novels. His accent was good and I was able to identify where he needed some support with pronunciation of certain words and the intonation and cadence of English. He confided that at school, his English teacher was not very good although he had a good grounding through his grandfather. His grandfather had obviously given him a very good grounding. We then ran through some common phrasal verbs, starting with 'to get', which I knew already, were a nightmare for French people learning English. I rattled off a few: to get through; to get into; to get up; to get out of; to get angry; to get over; to get by; to get on; to get under........
Over the first few weeks, Jeremy's shyness faded. I discovered he was indeed very intelligent and thinking about transferring from his lycee in Paris to one more local so that he could be with and help his grandmother. He got on fine with his parents who were both lawyers but had a severely handicapped older sister who needed a lot of support. Since his parents wanted her to be at home and although they had assistance with her, it was still a challenging situation.
"Besides, I love my M‚m‚ and I don't want her to be alone. My P‚p‚ died 7 months ago and although M‚m‚ is very self-sufficient, she loves having me around. She says I complete her life again after P‚p‚. So, I am not going to abandon and leave her; she is too special."
From the third session we had, Jeremy also took to greeting me each time at my door with a kiss on each cheek, the traditional French way. Whatever shyness he had initially faded away. He would arrive, we would have coffee and a catch up about things in general, his M‚m‚ and family, and then get working on his English. These were the times he opened up, asking questions about things of interest and things about which he was concerned, growing up. The ice was well and truly broken. One thing I noticed was how well he dressed giving a new edge to 'smart casual'. He was around 1.80m tall, slim but defined, black hair which we wore short at the sides and longer on top and green eyes, all set within a flawless complexion. He was handsome but not pretty as are many of his age and, when he smiled, his entire face lit up.
On our fourth session he arrived, put his two bottles of wine down and waited for me to serve coffee. It had become our ritual. Although he was there for his English, we switched back and forth between English and French until we got going on the lesson of the day. Then, it was all in English. His fluency was clearly growing. We took to sitting opposite each other in my living room, each in a comfortable bucket armchair located on each side of the coffee table. I would put out little treats like nuts and chocolate. On this day, he had on pale green bermuda shorts, an open-necked short-sleeved shirt, striped in red, white and blue and some dark blue leather boat shoes. His sunglasses were pushed back on his head, ruffling his hair. He looked like a model, I thought to myself. Our eyes met. He smiled and then he said:
"You know, Guillaume, I was thinking the other day that although you are the same age as my father, you are more like a big brother to me. It is very special. I feel I can talk to you about anything and not be embarrassed. I feel very comfortable and happy."
I replied, "I guess I think about you more as a friend and not somebody to whom I am teaching the finer points of English. At any rate, with you it is totally effortless."
I was surprised when he stood up, came around the coffee table, leaned down and gave me a hug. It was intimate, beautiful.
So, our sessions continued. It was as if there were no secrets between us but of course there were.
One day when Jeremy was with me and we were working through a complex article from one of my literary periodicals, the telephone rang. It was Mme Laforˆt. She sounded distressed.
"Guillaume, I am terribly sorry to call you but, I have just received some dreadful news: one of my oldest friends called from Paris and she has been diagnosed with a serious cancer. I will probably be away three weeks at least. Now, I have decided to take the TGV up tomorrow and although Jeremy is perfectly capable of being here on his own, would you be happy to check in on him?" I thought for a moment.
Even though Jeremy was not able to hear the conversation, he seemed to understand exactly what was going on.
"I have a better idea, Giselle; why don't we do this instead: if Jeremy would like to, while you are away in Paris, he could move in with me and use my guest suite? That way, by the time you return from Paris, he will be totally fluent in English!"
Mme Laforˆt laughed.
"Are you sure it will not be a problem?"
"Of course not Giselle, but, let me ask Jeremy."
I quickly explained to Jeremy what the issues were. He asked to take the telephone.
"M‚m‚, that would please me so much and, you would not have any worries about me being on my own." They spoke some more and then Jeremy handed back the telephone.
"Well, it is all agreed then. I am so pleased," Giselle said, "my mind is at rest. Could I ask you to let Jeremy make my booking on the TGV from your computer? The sooner it is done the more likely it is I will get a good seat. He has a credit card on my account for things like this."
So, I opened up my laptop and Jeremy made the booking with SNCF getting a senior ticket in First with an open return. All ticket details went automatically to her loyalty card, which would double as a ticket and simply required scanning by the conductor on the TGV. We called Giselle to let her know her ticket was booked and left her to sort out other arrangements and pack while our lesson for the day continued. She called again later and told me to come back with Jeremy as she would cook us all a special dinner. I also offered to drive her to the station next day for her TGV. It was also agreed that Jeremy would check the house each day, clear any mail and water plants. At least there were no animals to look after and feed.
Next day I arranged to collect Giselle a good two hours before her TGV was due to depart, allowing plenty of time. Jeremy had packed as well. So, while he went into the station with Giselle to carry her bag and help her onto the train when the platform was announced and the train arrived, I went up the street to a coffee place I knew where I could also park. Jeremy had my cell number and would SMS when he was ready to be picked up. French trains are always on time and generally, one has around 6 minutes to find the right carriage and get aboard, all made easy by an electronic 'Composition du Train' which indicates where one should stand to get aboard quickly. Since Giselle's train was coming from Spain, it was in fact two TGVs connected, one SNCF and the other, RENFE.
When Giselle's TGV departed, Jeremy texted me and I picked him up. "All went according to plan. M‚m‚ is totally able but I wanted to be there with her in case," he said when he got into the car "and I could carry her bag as there is not much to her, even though she travels very light."
On the way home I bought some things for dinner, having determined what Jeremy's tastes in food were. Cooking is a passion of mine and I thought I would make a special effort. I decided to make a finely chopped turkey, vegetable and spiced lentil sauce with pasta, green salad and cheese and caramelised pear crˆpes.
"I'll be your sous chef," Jeremy had said, "and, M‚m‚ has taught me a lot: I love cooking too!"
So, working together, we got the dinner sorted. "We make a great team, Guillaume," he beamed, pleased with himself. He washed his hands after chopping things up expertly and again, came over and gave me a big hug. "Thanks for all you are doing. I love you like a big brother I always wanted but never had."
"Are you allowed to have an ap‚ro and wine," Jeremy? I asked.
"Yes, of course, but I warn you, I am a cheap drunk!" I laughed and said, "Me too!"
"So Guillaume, what are you having?" he asked.
"I generally have a Campari and Soda with a twist of lemon, or a Suze on ice but, are both a bit of an acquired taste; rather bitter," I replied. I continued, "Tell you what; I will make both and you can taste both and if you like them or one or the other, you can take your pick." I figured Jeremy would have refined tastes anyway.
He sampled and liked both but chose the Campari. I put on some music, Joshua Bell on violin, and sat down on the long sofa. Jeremy sat next to me. We clinked glasses. "To the best team, big brother!" he beamed. I smiled. I realised that from very unexpected beginnings, we had become a team and not only that, he had kindled very special feelings within me. I figured he was in the same situation. Sometimes, words are not needed; there is a connection, an understanding.
"So Jeremy, why don't you go down to the cellar and chose a wine you fancy for our dinner?" He looked at me and smiled.
"Is this a test, Guillaume?" I thought for a moment.
"Not really, I figured you have innate class and good taste anyway and will choose something totally appropriate."
He headed of to the cellar and about 10 minutes later, appeared with one of my favourites, a 2009 red made by one of my local winemaker friends.
"You really hit the jackpot there, Jeremy," I said, "that is really one of the best. It even won awards in Paris." He smiled, very pleased with himself.
After a wonderful dinner and all was cleared away into the dishwasher, I put on more music, Brahms. Jeremy sat at the table to check emails on his iPad after I gave him the Wi-Fi code for the house. I relaxed on the sofa, leaning back, arms along the back. I felt aglow and the wine was helping as well. Jeremy closed his iPad and came over. He sat right beside me, resting his head on my outstretched arm.
"I feel so good; happy," he said "and a bit tipsy." He chuckled and looked at me, smiling.
"Oh dear," I replied "I don't want to get in trouble for getting you drunk!" I ruffled his hair, conscious of his fresh, clean smell and the heat from the proximity of his body.
"I am 18 and an adult so I can make my own choices. That includes getting tipsy." He laughed. The music washed over us, soothing, caressing.
"You smell so nice," he said, completely transforming my earlier thoughts into words. We both sipped our wine. And then he said something totally unexpected again.
"Guillaume, I want to seduce you but also, I don't want to offend you." I choked on my wine and almost bit a chunk out of the glass. "Since we met and with you helping me with my English and all, I think I have fallen in love with you. And, I have never been in love before. It is all very new."
I was lost for words. He looked up at me. I leaned forward, took his glass and mine and placed them on the coffee table. I pulled him too me, smelling his hair and rubbing his shoulder.
"Jeremy, this is a big move, a big thing for you. I don't want you thinking about things you don't understand fully and making decisions prematurely." He gave me a kiss under the ear.
"Since we met, Guillaume, I think of you all the time; I masturbate and imagine you kissing and caressing me; making love to me; making love with me although I don't know the first thing even about it all. My imagination goes into overdrive." There was a silence. "Have you thought about me, Guillaume?"
"I have Jeremy, of course I have. You are handsome, smart, charming, intelligent, but also, I never wanted to in any way, compromise things or take any advantage of you. So, all those feelings remained contained, silent. And, after all, I am the same age as your father."
"I don't care about that. In any case, you look about 20 years younger than my father, you take care of yourself, and you are sweet, charming, handsome, intelligent......". Jeremy's voice trailed off.
I nuzzled the top of his head and he pulled closer. He looked up and our eyes met. I bent down and kissed him gently. He moaned.
"My very first kiss from someone I love," he murmured and pulled closer again.
Brahms reached a crescendo and we were back to Joshua Bell with Gianni Schicchi and Dvorak.
"Guillaume, you have such wonderful music. It makes it easier for me to seduce you." I laughed.
"I'm not exactly sure who is seducing whom right now Jeremy," I said.
He replied, "Perhaps we are now seducing each other! And, my English is going to be even better because there is a whole new vocabulary involved here!"
Suddenly Jeremy stood up. Ceremoniously he retrieved our respective glasses and portioned out the last of the wine, topping both glasses equally. He sat down on my lap, legs akimbo, facing me and handed me my glass. "To Guillaume, to Jeremy," he said. We clinked glasses and sipped in celebration, and then he kissed me, allowing his lips to caress mine, followed by his tongue, with gentle pecks.
"For someone who has never kissed, you are an expert already, Jeremy." I told him.
He laughed. "It must be the inspirational teacher!"
"But the teacher is not doing much."
"But the teacher is there; that's enough."
We finished our wine and Jeremy took the glasses, placing them on the coffee table. His arms went around my neck and I pulled him to me. By now I was so hard and I knew he was too. It was passion intense, confined.
"Guillaume, please take me to bed."
Part 2:
I turned off the lights but left the music on repeat since it piped into my bedroom on the next level and would cycle through in three hours. I took Jeremy's hand and led him upstairs. We were almost the same height and build and so the match, physically, was perfect. We stood close together, his arms around my neck. We kissed, deeply. Again, he was a natural.
"Let's brush our teeth," I said.
He ran off to the guest suite and came back with his bag. We stood at the matching sinks in my bathroom and brushed, his hand in my back pocket. I sat down on the king size bed. He kneeled and I pulled him close. Another deep and passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss, I started from the top to unbutton his shirt. He did the same to me. My tongue explored his mouth, tasting of peppermint and cinnamon. I peeled off his shirt and saw his body for the first time; nicely defined and surprisingly, with a light layer of chest and abdominal hair. Again, I realised how similar we were in terms of body shape and presentation. I made him stand up. His crotch was right in front of my face. His cock was clearly hard and straining across his front. Gently, I undid his belt and top button and then the zipper, pulling his bermudas down. He stepped out of them leaving only his white briefs with a bright turquoise band. I pulled him close so his straining cock pressed against the side of my face. It was intoxicating; fresh; sensual and deeply arousing. Then slowly again, I began to slide down his briefs. His cock sprang free and he moaned. I realised that he was circumcised, like me but this is not common at all in France. It was rather a bonus discovery since I love circumcised cocks more. I ran my nose, lips and tongue around the base of his cock and balls, and through his pubes. I was relieved that he didn't shave as seemed to have become the fashion. It was again as if I were looking at my own. He was about 18cm. I licked the head of his cock and he moaned even louder. And then I began to suck him. The shudders and moans were intense. He pulled me up and sitting in my place, did a repeat performance on undressing me. There were no words needed although I did squeeze out, "You are a very fast learner, Jeremy." He looked up and smiled.
"I have the best and most inspirational teacher, that's why."
I pulled him upright and we kissed again, our cocks totally in synch, nestled together as if it had been the plan of the universe. Then, gently I lay him down on the bed on his back and propped myself up on an elbow beside him, tracing the fingertips of my free hand around his body. He shuddered and moaned softly.
"Now, Jeremy, I don't want you to do anything which makes you uncomfortable. This is about you and your first time." He smiled again and kissed me. He nodded, looking deep into my eyes. His beauty really shone.
"I feel so complete already," he murmured.
I kissed him and as I did he opened his mouth. Our tongues met. I ran my tongue around his ear lobes and neck and then traced to his nipples, erect under my touch. His moans and shudders increased. His cock pulsed and oozed pre-cum so that it pooled in his belly button. I licked his stomach and sides, making him writhe with pleasure and then took his straining cock in my mouth, savouring his sweet taste. I drained his little pool of pre-cum while his moans got louder. Then I moved to his balls and inner thighs. He shuddered and moaned, writhing beneath my tongue, whispering my name. He smelled of lavender soap but also his own distinctive smell; fresh; sexy.
"Oh Guillaume, I never imagined it would be so wonderful. I am feeling things, sensations I never thought possible. You are taking me to heavenly places. I think I am going to explode."
I kissed him again and then, lifting his arms, nuzzled his armpits. His body convulsed.
"Ohhhhh........Guill....." he moaned again and caught his breath.
I returned to his cock, intent on sucking him off. I knew it would be very quick and it was. His back arched and a series of loud moans came from within as he grabbed my hair with his hands and then, exploded down my throat. It was intense and very sweet and fruity. His body convulsed and he held me tightly, moaning, shuddering, his entire body electrified. I cradled him in my arms, kissing his brows and eyes, caressing his body. Gradually, his sensations subsided into a quiet and satisfied bliss. The music drifted over us again, caressing us both in its own supportive way.
After about 10 minutes he whispered, "What about you?" I kissed him again and said softly, "This is about you. I'm fine. For your first time I wanted it to be special and for you."
"Guillaume, you are a treasure discovered."
"And you, sweet Jeremy, are a true poet."
It was true. I had noticed how he spoke French very poetically and, it translated into English rather well also. He nuzzled my neck and said, "I am indeed the poet but you dear Guillaume are my Mont Parnassus!"
I felt satisfied and once his raging hormones had been quieted, my own needs had as well. The rest could wait. Jeremy fell asleep in my arms, a smile on his face.
Part 3:
It was still dark when I awoke. The clock projected the time on the ceiling and it was only 4:32am. Jeremy's gentle breath caressed my neck and his upper body was still enveloped in my arms. He had barely moved all night. I felt his hard cock against me and my own morning glory was more intense than ever. I loved the feeling of Jeremy's skin against mine; his rhythmic breathing like fluttering kisses on my neck. I dozed off again.
I awoke again with a start. Jeremy's tongue was circling my nipple closest to him. His hand gently caressed my cock. As I stirred he kissed me, his mouth still tasting of peppermint and cinnamon.
"You still taste wonderful," I said. He smiled, hair all tousled and slight stubble on his chin.
"And," I went on "you look totally beautiful."
"I cheated: I took a leak and brushed my teeth. I wanted to be ready for now, this is your time. I am going to do my best to make you feel wonderful. Last night you took me to absolute heaven."
But, I needed to take a leak myself. "Nature calls," I said "otherwise you might end up with something less pleasant in your mouth than what is planned!"
"Oooooo. If it's from you Guillaume, I think I'd manage."
I extricated myself from his embrace and went to the bathroom. My piss boomed into the bowl. I splashed water over my face and brushed my teeth. Jeremy had thrown back the covers and stretched his arms out towards me as I returned to the bed.
"You look good enough to eat and I'm so hungry," I said.
I climbed on top of him and kissed him passionately. He rolled me onto my back and in virtual mirror image, repeated all I had done to him the previous night. Of course, by this stage, I was so turned on, especially having suppressed all for Jeremy the previous night, and I exploded within minutes of him sucking my engorged cock. He extracted all my come and then nestled in my arms again. I tasted my own come on his lips and tongue. However, Jeremy did do one "extra" thing. As he licked my inner thighs, he gently parted my legs and on the way to my balls, licked my hole for a few seconds.
It was difficult not to reflect on where things had been and where they had ended up. Jeremy climbed on top of me. I stroked his back, down his spine and into his crack, stopping short of his hole. He began to kiss me again, ardently, strongly, and deeply. Then he propped himself up on my chest and looked deep into my eyes.
"Guillaume, I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you deep inside me." I replied "Jeremy, we need to take this very carefully. It can be a traumatic thing the first time." He hugged me more tightly.
"I really want you to fuck me."
"Now?" I asked.
"Not necessarily, but I wanted you to know that that is what I want."
Part 4:
So, that day we went for a picnic in the mountains, finding a little stream and a nice place under some giant oaks. Giselle had called just as we were about to leave. We exchanged greetings and had a brief update and I handed the telephone to Jeremy. He enthused into the telephone, answered Giselle's questions and then replaced the receiver in its cradle.
"M‚m‚ is so happy that I am happy. Her friend is not well and not managing so she is happy to be there knowing that you are looking after me here."
That night we cooked dinner together and retired to bed.
Our lovemaking had been adventurous and sensual but we both knew that Jeremy had set his focus on me fucking him. I knew him well enough to accept his absolute determination once he had made up him mind. So, I allowed him to take control. We spent a good hour kissing, cuddling, caressing, licking, sucking and fingering. Eventually, he was ready and amply lubed, positioned himself over my cock to control things. He was of course, virginal and tight and so it was important that it be his domain. I worked his cock and caressed his stomach and nipples as he began to take me inside, carefully and slowly. It took about a minute and several attempts but eventually, my cock head slipped past his tight sphincter and he was resting on my pubes. He leaned forward into my tight embrace. We kissed passionately and he began to rock slowly, backwards and forwards. Again I left him in control. His warmth and tightness were amazing. Gradually his pace and ardour increased and he found the right angle so my cock massaged his prostate. He began to moan and his breath catch. Our hands interlocked as he moved more upright again. Our eyes locked. The feeling for me was deep and intense and he was transported. "It is just what I wanted," the words stumbling out. I whispered "I'm so close." We had become as one. And then he moaned and gasped louder than ever as we both erupted, me deep inside him and he all over my body, my face, and my hair. He collapsed upon me. I held him close, kissing him as he tasted his own come which currently glued us together. Thereafter I taught him how to get fucked in different positions. He especially loved when we fucked face to face, his legs around my body so we could kiss. It was heaven.
Epilogue:
Jeremy ended up going to university in Montpellier to study English language and literature with a minor in 19th century French poetry. He then got a scholarhsip and went to do his PhD at Oxford. Our relationship continued. Whether Giselle knew or not she never let on. All that she recognised was how successful Jeremy had been and he had continued to develop into a fine young man of whom she was extremely proud. She recognised my role in this. We all went to Jeremy's graduation from Oxford. It was a really proud moment for all. Subsequently, over dinner for two at my home, I suggested to Jeremy that he needed to think about finding someone closer to his own age. He was after all very attractive, elligible and in the running for a top university job in the US. At a conference in Houston he met a young man who was part French and part Turkish, a few years his junior and they fell in love. They are still both close friends and we email and speak often.