Guillaume Bacharene
bacharene@gmail.com
This story is a bit of fact and fiction although based on some key actual details. Some names have been changed for privacy protection purposes. The mixture of fact and fiction is what good writing is all about in my view. And, one has to write, above all, for the reader. A writer is an agent or channel to get the words right and tell a wonderful story to which readers can relate.
My romance with the US goes back to the early 1980s. While there are exceptions as there are all over the world, I was totally seduced by the general niceness of people and especially, the beautiful, confident and sexy men who were totally enthralled by my accent and my brain. But also, it was the genuine openness and way they expressed thoughts and feelings. I had never had my ego so exquisitely massaged the same way ever. So, I am 1.80m tall, worked out and had what others described as ?model looks? to the extent that when I was doing my first masters degree I had been offered a modelling contract with a major fashion house in Paris. I thought about it all, the money and travel, but figured I had too many brains to be treated like a glorified clothes? horse and as some superficial entity who had ?the looks? but nothing else. Added to that was what I saw as bullshit ?glamour?. I turned it down to pursue an academic career instead.
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My US Lecture Tour and Master Classes ? Part Three
It was 1983 and I was to have four weeks in the US doing a series of lectures and master classes based one some research I had done. It doesn?t really matter what is was all about now but it was held to be extremely important. It was an offer that came out of nowhere really. Sometimes, the powers that be of the universe seem to have a plan for us. This was to be no exception. I was able to negotiate really generous terms with a week in Honolulu on the way and then sessions in San Francisco, Chicago, New York, Washington DC, New Orleans, Los Angeles and San Diego.
I indicated earlier about my first touch with America being the most amazingly good thing for one?s ego. In each of these cities I was to have an experience, which could read like a romance novel. It was heady and all culminated some years later with me meeting the big love of my life, a beautiful American. After 30 years we are still together. But that?s another complete story I might also tell one day!
Chicago
The moment I first arrived in Chicago, I felt something for it as a city. I fell in love. I can?t explain it; I can?t give you reasons. It is not the most beautiful city in America although it is beautiful; it?s not the biggest city in America although it is big and one first has to survive the cauchemar, the nightmare of O?Hare Airport. So, this is by way of letting you know that Chicago is for me, Num‚ro Un, the number one city in the US.
Now, apart from all the official stuff I had to do, and I am not complaining at all ? it was after all the whole raison d?ˆtre of the trip, the whole reason ? I had a list of ?to do? things in Chicago: the Art Institute of Chicago; Sears Tower; Hancock Tower; Lakeside Drive and shopping or more looking rather than buying. It is the place for shopping too!
The Art Institute is one of the best on earth with exquisite paintings ? El Greco, Monet, Renoir - the quality is amazing. And another thing, the people are all totally beautiful, physically I mean and so well dressed. I never once saw anybody who was not. Rose-tinted sunnies perhaps? No. The Windy City is the City of Beautiful people! At least it was then. Perhaps it is the wind?
So, I had a full day to myself after I arrived. I was in a downtown hotel and, modest and sensible we were, both me and the hotel. So I was up early and raced off to do my 100 places of Chicago. I had woken up and for some reason, thought of the Japanese woodcut master, Hiroshige, and his many ?100 Views of Edo? and all else he did in series of 100. Sort of a magic number for him it was.
Sears Tower: of course, being high up in what was then the tallest building on earth had its challenges. The cloud came in and after about five minutes, it was all cloud and no view. But, at least I had been there and had multiple cloud photos as proof. Art Institute: well, it was cultural delirium, a figurative orgasm at every turn, pure and simple; utter quality at every inch. I mooched with the Monets, waterlilies in profusion and stood in awe at El Greco?s ?Assumption of the Virgin?, a masterpiece from one of my most loved painters. It was quite overwhelming. Gave up on the Hancock because I realised my first session was going to be held there and I would see it anyway and I was to be taken for drinks there as well, above the clouds again.
OK, so I didn?t really do the ?100 Views of Chicago? but, it was a cute idea. So, I had a desperate urge, after a busy day completed at Bloomingdale?s, Neiman Marcus and Macy?s sale, to hit the champagne. But, I wanted class and style in which to imbibe it. I dressed appropriately and ended up on the rooftop at the Ritz-Carlton. I had a good book and my many thoughts as well. America was proving to be excellent for my ego and my sex life but figured, after two home runs, that would be it. Three times lucky? Not likely!
I thought of Kevin in Honolulu and there was that instant association with Pol Roger. I found a nice area where I could survey everything, both place and people and the Pol Roger duly arrived with class and ceremony, along with a selection of nuts and nibbles. His name tag said ?Jack? and certainly, Jack did the bar, the hotel, Chicago and America proud.
?Good evening sir. I?m Jack and I am happy to have you in my section this evening.? His voice was melodic, measured. I began to wonder how they bred such endlessly beautiful people. Jack could have walked right off the pages of a fashion magazine like Uomo. He was flawless perfection. My cock stirred, exercising independent thoughts.
Now, I am sure, being in such a classy place, that opening champagne or wine even must be nerve-wracking. What if the cork refuses to budge or breaks? But of course, Jack with smooth moves, eased out the cork, bringing it back to subtle life and poured, one-handed, holding the base of the bottle with his outstretched fingers supporting the body, never allowing the bottle to touch the flute let alone allowing the champagne to bubble up and over. It was one continuous pour. I couldn?t resist a compliment. He smiled and said, ?Thank you sir. I try to do the best job I can.?
?Go to first place then, that was a master performance!? I replied. That smile again.
His work station was close by and he stood upright, arms behind his back, his long white apron, all immaculate and free of creases, like a white marble cylinder; eyes constantly scanning for any client need. Classic white teeth, another smile to do the sun out of its daily job and sea-green eyes that caressed, beneath a haircut where not a single hair dared to revolt. In short, Jack was also a pleasure to admire. My cock again confirmed it. And, he had personality but encapsulated in a crisp, professional pride and authority. I figured he had to be about 25. Well trained I thought. There were others in the bar but I seemed to be alone in his station. So, it was quiet and Jack had time. He kept that short but respectful distance away, ready to fill my flute when it even started to look indecently low. I called him over. He looked totally delicious close up. He brought more nuts.
?Tell me about your favoured places and things to do in Chicago, Jack.?
?Are you an outdoors or museums person, sir?? The consummate professional, I thought. He continued, ?I prefer nature so I get out as much as I can, sir. I run and swim and also row. And you sir; are you here on business and, how much time do you have in Chicago??
I quickly explained, realising that he probably had not the slightest interest. But, I mentioned the Cloud Experience at Sears Tower and the Art Institute.
?My Mom works there at the Art Institute. She?s a curator of Impressionist Painting.?
?Well, Jack, it is one of the best art museums on earth. They must all be proud of it.?
?They are. My Mom loves it. They love her.?
Other people came into Jack?s station and my private audience came to an end. He had carried it off with real class and, I had found a great place for a drink and excellent scenery, both human and environmental. Jack was the star in my eyes. I sat and thought how challenging it must be for the Jacks of the world with people coming onto them constantly. I had a pang of guilt. Had I been coming on to him I asked myself? I tried putting myself in Jack?s position, objectively. How would it have been for him? I had been polite, empathetic. Perhaps he did notice I had ? at least in my head ? stripped him naked.
As dusk began to fall, the lights came up brighter and as I sipped my Pol Roger, I opened my book and started to read. I remember it was called, ?None Dare Call it Conspiracy?. Jack came back to check the ice in the bucket and my flute.
?Getting busy,? he said. Sorry I can?t talk, sir, but thank you. Will you be back perhaps??
?Certainly, Jack. Where else would I get such brilliant service??
He smiled and the whole of Chicago lit up.
?Thank you sir, I really appreciate that.? I pushed a $20 note across the table. ?I appreciate it too, Jack. Thank you.?
Charmer to the end, Guillaume, I thought.
So, it was one of those heady and delicious encounters I came to associate with America. I hoped but then, also knew, that when one scratched the surface in America, anything was possible. I figured that in many ways, it was an intellectual powerhouse but, conversely, a potential emotional desert until one looked beyond the surfaces, remaining always open to possibilities and chance.
The Pol Roger was again swimming in my head. Out came the book again. I carried a book with me at all times. I read on, focused. My head began to breathe in a different dimension.
Jack returned to refill my flute. The Pol Roger was almost done and it was time to go. Jack did a little bow as I thanked him again and flashed yet another smile.
?I hope to see you back again, sir. Thank you again.?
The sessions I had scheduled went really well including the one in the Water Tower. That was followed by drinks in the bar at the top of the building with panoramic views all round and then dinner in another restaurant. Afterwards, since the hotel was close by and it was a balmy night, I told my university hosts that I would walk back to the hotel in order to get some exercise and clear my head after a very long day.
I meandered along, looking at shop fronts and windows and then rounding a corner, came across a charming and classy looking bar which had low tables and upholstered armchairs spilling right onto the wide sidewalk. I decided to have a coffee and a cognac and chose a seat in a corner, facing the street. A charming and yet another beautiful person, a young lady whose name tag said ?Karli? came over, introduced herself, as in ?Hello. I?m Karli and I will be your server this evening,? and asked what I wanted. In minutes, with professional proficiency, she was back with my espresso coffee and cognac and a bowl of smoked almonds.
I took out my book. This time it was Gore Vidal?s ?Myra Breckinridge?. I leaned back. The armchair was very comfortable. Closing my eyes, the bustle of the city became ever more focused; a cacophony of sounds and smells. It had been a long day and this was the perfect way to unwind and come back to earth.
Suddenly, I was jolted out of my reverie by a familiar voice.
?Good evening, sir!?
I opened my eyes with a start and I could not believe it. It was Jack dressed all in elegant black with a Royal Stuart tartan scarf around his neck. He stood the other side of the barrier, as beautiful as a vision, passing cars painting him in patterns of colour and light.
?Hello Jack.? I stood up and reached out to shake his hand. He smiled. ?Fancy running into you in this big city,? I said. ?Can I offer you a drink? And please, you are off duty now and I do have a name: it?s Guillaume and I do answer to it.?
?Thank you Guillaume. It?s my night off and I have been out to see a movie. I?d love a glass of white wine please.? He came and sat down opposite me and the ever-efficient Karli took his request.
He picked up my book.
?I?ve read this. I love Vidal?s writing.? He thumbed through it and then put it down. Another of those melting smiles. His eyes fixed onto mine.
We clinked glasses and I swirled the cognac around, breathing in its heady aroma. It sent warm shiver throughout my body and Jack added to it all. His masculine beauty almost defied words.
?Jack, I really must say how impressed I was with you at work. I have not had such impeccable service in ages.? I sipped my cognac and downed my espresso.
?Why, thank you Guillaume. I really appreciate your saying so.? That smile again. ?I do meet all sorts of people and not all are friendly and pleasant like you.?
My cock stirred again. A question formed in my head.
?Jack, can I ask you a question and please, if it is too personal, just say so.?
Jack leaned forward as I spoke, hands knitted together.
?Please do, Guillaume. What would you like to know??
?I was wondering the other night, watching you work, if you get people coming on to you, hitting on you. I mean, you are extremely good looking and if it happens, I was wondering how you handle it all??
He laughed and smiled.
?Well, I figure that it comes with the territory, Guillaume and yes, it happens all the time. I am used to it and, while it is mostly men, I also get it from women. At first I would blush and want to run a mile, but now I just accept it as part of the service really.?
I thought for a moment. The question churning over in my mind had been answered.
?The other night I felt a bit guilty that you might have thought I was coming on to you, undressing you with my eyes, and then I got to thinking about it all and how it must be for you.?
?Not at all Guillaume. I didn?t see it that way at all. I thought you were being polite and interested and it was rather quiet at first in my section.? Another smile. ?Plus you have a really sexy accent.? The volatile fumes from cognac ran up my nose as I took a deep breath in.
I looked at my watch. 10:32pm. I ordered another cognac and a wine for Jack. He said, ?I am not holding you up am I Guillaume??
?No Jack. I am truly delighted to have your company. I enjoy my book but talking with you is better. But, I am not holding you up am I?? I asked.
He smiled.
?Not at all. I am at work tomorrow but not until 4:30pm so I am a free agent right now.? He smiled again.
?Can I ask you a personal question, Guillaume, and with the same deal. If it is too personal, please say so.? He stressed the ?I?.
This time, I leaned forward, looking him directly in the eyes. Jack breathed in, an audible sound coming from his open mouth.
?Do you find me attractive, Guillaume?? I was taken aback at the directness of his question.
?I picked up my cognac, gave it a swirl and took a sip, leaning back.
?Well Jack, I think you already know the answer and yes, I do, absolutely. You are an extremely beautiful and sexy man.?
That smile again and my cock was really reacting. I added, ?A friend of mine would describe you as a walking wet dream.?
Jack laughed and I wondered where all of this was going. I was about to ask him if he thought I was attractive as well. Before I could he said,
?I like you too Guillaume, very much. Would you like to take me to bed with you??
Now, this was a really unexpected turn of events. Before I could answer, however, Jack spoke again:
?I have never been with anybody before, man or woman.?
I looked shocked and my jaw literally dropped.
?Are you serious, looking like you do??
?That?s just the problem, Guillaume. People always assume I am taken or worse, unapproachable.?
My heart leaped out and I wanted to lean over to hug and kiss him right there.
We finished our drinks and I paid the tab. He fell in step with me as we walked back to the hotel. The lobby was busy with a large group of people checking in. Floor 24 chimed in the elevator. I opened the door on my room and allow him to enter first.
The room had an area with armchairs and a table so I indicated to Jack to sit there. I opened a bottle of mineral water and brought two glasses over, sitting opposite again.
?Jack, I just cannot believe that you have never been with anybody before.?
He looked at me and smiled.
Not only that, Guillaume, I have never been kissed even.? He quickly added ?Excluding my Mom and Dad and family members of course.?
I suddenly realised that he might need to let somebody know where he was.
?Jack, do you need to call anybody who might be worried about you.?
He shook his head.
?No. My Mom and I spoke earlier this evening. She is away at a seminar in New York for a week. She and my Dad were divorced when I was six. He lives in Miami and is some hot shot divorce attorney. We get on well but my Mom is special. I have my own apartment under her house anyway.?
I stood up, not really sure how best to approach the unfolding situation and certainly not wanting to freak Jack out.
I kneeled in front of him, taking his hands in mine and looked into his eyes.
?Jack, I want you to trust me absolutely. I am not going to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. This is about you; this is your first time and I want it to be for you and about you and to be very special.? He nodded and smiled.
?Relax and trust me, agreed? This is a new experience for me as well Jack!?
?Agreed Guillaume.?
I leaned forward and kissed him gently around his cheeks and neck, around his closed eyes, circling and then starting all over. Jack sighed and took in a deep breath, parting his legs so I could get in closer. He moved forward a little. He smelled of citrus - Eau Sauvage or some such fragrance - but it was subtle, understated. Very gently, I brushed my lips across his. He opened his mouth slightly and using my tongue, I caressed just inside his lips. He moaned softly and tentatively, allowed his tongue to meet mine. His mouth opened more.
?You taste of wine,? I whispered.
?You taste of cognac,? he whispered back.
I stood up and he rose with me. Pulling him close, I began to kiss him again as I ran my fingers gently up and down his spine. His cock was hard and so was mine and they nestled together, tightly confined. Again very gently, I ground my pelvis against him in a slow kind of dance. He moaned even louder. He was learning how to kiss really well and quickly. I took his hand and led him to the bed, easing him back on it. While I kissed him gently and continuously, he kicked off his boat shoes as I began to unbutton his shirt and ease it off, admiring his smooth torso. He was lean muscle, not overt but just perfect, with a light dusting of body hair. I ran my tongue from beneath his ears, down his neck and to his nipples. He shuddered and moaned softly as they hardened from the careful and delicate ministrations of my flicking tongue. I resumed kissing him while his hands caressed my hair and neck and slowly began to undo his belt, his top button and his zipper. He raised up as I removed his pants, his straining cock gaining more freedom in his white briefs. With the back of my hand, I softly strummed the length of his cock and ran little circles around his balls. Then I laid him back on the bed, running my wet tongue down his sides, around his belly button. He had a light fuzz of hair as a treasure trail. I muzzled his cock through the fabric and it flexed against my mouth and nose. And then it was time for liberation. Licking as I went, slowly I exposed his cock and removed his briefs and socks. It was cut low and about 17cm long. His pubes were intact and silky. I licked around his balls and shaft making him moan and sigh endlessly, his body writhing to meet my every move. I licked around the head and then told him to lie back fully on the bed. I undressed as well and hovering over his body, kissed him deeply, tongues in a sinuous, impassioned dance. My pre-cum dribbled on his body. And then it was down to his thighs, up to his pits. His cock stood straight up, pulsing with each beat of his heart, wet and glistening with pre-cum. I licked it clean and then began to suck him in earnest, increasing the pace and intensity. His body began to spasm as his hands worked my hair and scalp in perfect unison and matching intensity. He began to thrust up with each downward movement of my sucking and I could feel the pressure rising in his cock. It seemed to get harder and bigger in my mouth. And then with a loud gasp and a huge shudder, he came, all warm, creamy and pineapple sweet and sour in my throat. I kept sucking and caressing him as his intensity subsided and them moved up the bed, cradling him in my arms and kissing his closed eyes.
?How do you feel Jack,? I whispered softly. ?How was your first ever multi-sensory experience with another??
Jack let out a long breath through his mouth.
? I feel as if I am out of my whole body, I feel amazing. But Guillaume, what about you. I am having all of the fun??
I kissed him.
?This is Jack time, not Guillaume time and Jack time has barely begun. Let?s go have a shower.?
We showered together and brushed teeth and naked, I led Jack back to the bed, the covers of which I had pulled down. I laid him out on his front and began to lick his body and legs, running fingers and tongue down his spine. I tongue-flicked his balls from behind and nuzzled his butt cheeks. He smelled of lavender from the soap. Again, his body writhed with each touch. I realised I had unlocked the secret to Jack?s physical and sexual coming of age and he was proving an able acolyte. He had become a masterpiece in the making.
Gently I parted Jack?s butt cheeks. A light tracing of fine hairs defined his treasure spot. I ran my tongue up and down the crack from the base of his spine to his balls and then, settled in to tease his pucker and hole. His moans and tremors clearly showed what he was feeling. He was tight and I tongued and teased, licked and lapped. Then I stretched out beside him and rolled him back against my body, running my fingertips against what had been proven to be Jack?s very sensitive skin and focus spots. He turned his head and began to kiss me, using his tongue, his head nestled in the crook of my arm. My cock nestled in his crack, hard, pulsing and wet. It had needs but Jack?s were far more pressing. His cock was straining again, demanding a reprise. I slid down the bed and after some preliminaries around his pucker, taint and balls, began to use my tongue and lips to swirl around his cock head. This sent him into delirious tremors. His back arched and his moans increased as I stepped up the pace. His pre-cum was so sweet and just kept flowing, adding to the slickness from my mouth and tongue, his hands again in my hair and on my scalp. And then with an almighty moan and shudder, Jack came again, the same fruity sweet and sour. I again enveloped him in my arms, kissing him deeply, his cum a shared treasure between us.
He fell asleep in my arms, contented, fulfilled. Early next morning as the sun was rising, we did a repeat performance.
Thereafter, every evening once my commitments were over, I went to see Jack and have Pol Roger. Pol Roger was proving to be lucky for me I figured. Jack?s face always lit up when I walked in. What was already a dazzling smile transported itself to another dimension. Of course, Jack was ever the professional and treated me like all other clients. And, since his night finished late, I had no expectations whatever that he would come see me afterwards. However, three nights before I was due to leave for New York, as he was pouring a Pol Roger for me, he said softly:
?I have Friday and Saturday nights off this week. A colleague owes me for standing in for her last week. I need to see you again. I can?t get all of this out of my head.?
And then he was off to attend to others. With each refill, the gentle conversation expanded a bit more.
?I told my Mom, Stella, about you and she wants to meet you.?
Another pause between clients.
?Saturday night I am cooking dinner and I want you to come.?
Another pause.
?And Friday night I want to take you somewhere for a drink, a place I like.?
As I was leaving he said:
?Your hotel Friday night, 7:00pm.?
By Friday night I was really looking forward to the rest of my time in Chicago; Jack time. My main events had come and gone and there was Jack! Heck, he made me hard with the mere thought of seeing him again. I had a long shower and dressed smart casual French. I also had Pol Roger on ice, having discovered a market around the corner. Right on 7:00pm there was a gentle knock on the door. I knew Jack would be like a vision. I opened. He was. He looked radiant: dark grey slacks; slip on leather shoes, a crimson shirt with a fine, light turquoise sweater and enveloping all, a three-quarter light coat with a navy and crimson scarf over his arm. He came in and enveloped me in a big hug and kisses and then took off his coat.
I said, ?Just being practical Jack: I have Pol Roger here of course but also what about eating??
He smiled: ?All taken care off. We are going where we can eat and drink but it is a little different. It is sort of what the Spanish call tapas but it is not Spanish. It?s American with a French touch. And, we can save up the Pol Roger for later. I made sure they had some!?
I opened a mineral water and poured two glasses. We clinked glasses and locked eyes. That smile again!
?Guillaume, you look so beautiful, so handsome, so classy.? Another flashing smile. Your clothes have an edge.?
?Milles Chemises and a bit of this and that from Paris,? I replied, ?but nothing ostentatious and over the top. Paris sales are wonderful! I never pay full price for anything!?
?So Jack, about Saturday.?
?I am cooking in my apartment. We are having Pol Roger at Mom?s first. Is there anything you can?t or don?t eat?
?Talk about asking a Frenchman a silly question!? Jack laughed!
?Good! I was thinking of duck rillettes with Pol Roger, beef marinated and oven simmered in red wine and herbs with pan-seared new potatoes and steamed garden vegetables, green salad, cheese selection and my cardamom lemon yoghurt cake. How does that sound?? He looked at me expectantly.
?Jack even if it were McDonalds at your place and with you and Pol Roger and your Mom, I?d be in heaven!?
He laughed and smiled.
?So tell me about your Mom.?
?You will like her and she will love you, I know. I told her all about you. She and I are close and she has always been my rock. And, she had never questioned anything. She knows I am thoughtful and never make rash decisions.?
He though for a while then added.
?Stella, Mom, is gracious and elegant and very classy.?
I added, ?And that?s where you get it Jack.?
So, we headed off in to the evening, walking. People were everywhere, probably doing what we were. After about 30 minutes of zigzagging, we came to a very discreet doorway framed with plants. Jack opened and let me go first. The space beyond was sleek and intimate with private cubicles.
Another American beauty came forward and bowed slightly.
?Bonsoir Monsieur Jack. C?est toujours un plaisir de vous revoir chez nous.?
? Good evening Monsieur Jack. It is always a pleasure to see you in our establishment.
?Good evening Monsieur Henri. May I present to you Monsieur Guillaume.?
I greeted Monsieur Henri in French and added a compliment about his welcome and his establishment. He looked momentarily surprised.
?Nous avons beaucoup de clients, French clients, et c?est alors un endroit pour eux et pour Monsieur Jack. Bienvenue alors.? ? We have many clients, French clients, and it is their place and Monsieur Jack?s as well. So welcome.
From the manner and words and timbre of the greetings I knew already that Jack had real status.
Monsieur Henri continued in English:
?All is arranged just as you wished Monsieur Jack. I have your usual place ready for you.?
It was indeed a special place. We had totally private cubicle at the side with banquettes at the rear and sides and a smaller table set up in the front.
M. Henri seated us both, side by side with all the flourishes and then left us for a moment. I looked at Jack and bowed.
?Well, Jack, it is very clear to me that at the very least, you are very famous here!?
Jack smiled again.
?I thought I had better claim my 15 minutes of fame before you lost interest!?
Jack snuggled up. I placed my hand on his upper thigh. If fact, in the positions we were and with a copious table cloth concealing everything, we could almost have done anything upright with nobody any the wiser.
I said in response: ?This is my loss of interest!? and kissed him so passionately he almost slipped under the table.
Once M. Henri realised I was French, unless he spoke to Jack directly, he always spoke French. And, as a Frenchman, all my social skills came into play.
After five minutes, M. Henri arrived with two flutes and the Pol Roger, which was quickly opened and poured. Then the food began to arrive is small portions, elegantly presented. It was a series of taste adventures; some unusual combinations like shredded beetroot with fresh ginger and caviar, but wonderful, almost Japanese.
I complimented M.Henri and he beamed.
As we left and meandered back to the hotel, Jack put his arm through mine.
?I feel like we?re married already, Guillaume.? It was such a sweet, heart-melting statement.
?You romantic you,? I replied.
Back at the hotel Jack opened a Pol Roger. Although we had already consumed one bottle, all of M.Henri?s little dishes in a stream had worked magic. Neither of us felt any the worse for it.
I was sitting on an armchair, leaning back in a slump and Jack came over with the Pol Roger, sitting himself on my knees facing me. We clinked and he leaned forward and kissed me, mouth all fresh and tingling with Pol Roger. Our tongues met in a playful dance. My cock came to the party. So did Jack?s.
Jack said, ?I?ve been thinking. You have spoiled me totally and this has been all about me. I?m grateful because I had no idea what to do and when and how. I guess I was your total and absolute virgin!?
Before he could add more, I replied:
?That was your time and tonight is your time also, Jack.? He took another sip and looked at me directly.
?I accept but Saturday night is going to be Guillaume time Since you are going to be leaving on Sunday afternoon, you are coming to stay and checking out of the hotel. I will take you to the airport. Is it a deal??
I smiled.
?Ever the romantic, Jack. I love it.? Jack kissed me again.
?I am going to miss seeing you each day, Guillaume. I could get very used to this! But, I am not going to be all morbid about it. I will write to you of course.?
I kissed Jack again.
?Jack, life is about meetings and partings and then coming back for more. The powers that be brought us together, wherever it goes and we end up, but we have forever, these moments and, they really are forever.?
Jack thought for a moment.
?You know Guillaume, when I talked to my Mom, she told me to be happy and cherish moments. And then she said that she saw a glow within me after I met you. The other thing is that I feel at peace. I thought I would be upset that you were going and I?d never see you again but of course, I know we will see each other again. You have opened up a door for me which contained the secret and hidden me and I am forever grateful.? Jack kissed me again.
After Pol Roger had been put to bed, we brushed teeth and crawled into bed. Jack snuggled up. We were both tired. It had been a long and busy week. I held him in my arms, gently nuzzling his eyebrows. Within moments, he had fallen asleep. I followed.
I awoke and looked at the bedside clock. 2:12am. Jack stirred. Gently I extricated myself so as not to wake him and turned off the beside lights. The night lights gave off a soft glow. I poured a glass of mineral water and drank in down. Carefully I got back in to bed and stretched out. Jack stirred and then he was enveloped in my arms again. It felt so right and complete.
When I awoke, it was 7:03am. Jack was in the bathroom taking a shower. I went in. He saw me through the steamed up glass.
?Let me pamper you Guillaume!? he said, opening the shower door.
I let him. He got me wet and then shampooed my hair, rinsed and rubbed conditioner it. Then he began a slow soaping up of my body, rather like a slow-motion dance, with feathery touches. It was intensely erotic. I was hard and he was hard. We kissed and with liberal suds, lowly jerked each other off. Any concerns we had about soap stinging the insides of our cocks were forgotten.
So, after we cleaned up and dressed, I packed having indicated to the hotel I would be checking out early. Jack went to retrieve his car at the hotel and with all business completed, I waited outside realising I had no idea what sort of car he had. Of course it was all as might have been expected. There was a toot and light blue Alfa Romeo sports pulled up. Jack put my bag in the back and off we went.
?Real class, Jack. It fits your image, the young man about town!? He laughed.
?You know in fact, had I chosen a car myself I probably would not have gotten this. My Dad bought it for my 21st birthday. It arrived in this massive blue box with giant ribbons on the back of a huge truck and I had to cut the ribbon and drive it out of the box and off the truck! The whole street came to watch. My Dad was so proud and as I did, my Mom and he stood there, my Dad?s arm around my Mom. It was totally surreal since they had been divorced for about fifteen years.?
I can?t remember where Jack lived in Chicago but it was clearly a special place with beautiful streets, trees and gardens and large houses. We came to a stop before a couple of tall gates. The gates opened and Jack drove in, along the side of the house through the portico where the main entrance was and to the rear. The garage door opened and he parked.
?Let?s drop your stuff and go say hi to Mom.?
A covered walk way connected the garage with Jack?s apartment and the main house. His apartment was entered down a stairway as it was literally under the house but had a sunken private garden in front. It was beautiful; a real designer?s hand had been at work.
?Jack, this is truly exquisite.? The apartment was basically white but had leather armchairs and books and paintings.
?You like it Guillaume??
?Very much, I am so impressed.?
?Well, that pleases me too. I designed and did it all myself.? Jack beamed.
?Jack, I had no doubts that you were talented but really, this is real designer stuff.?
He gave me a hug and a big kiss.
?Mom?s waiting.?
There was a connecting door between the main house and Jack?s apartment, off the entrance to his apartment but Jack said:
?We are making the grand entrance!?
We walked around to the portico and up the stairs. The door opened before we even knocked or rang and there was Stella, Jack?s Mom. Jack kissed her on both cheeks and said:
?Mom, this is Guillaume; Guillaume, this is my Mom, Stella.?
?Bienvenue Guillaume, c?est un vrai plaisir de faire votre connaissance.?
? Welcome Guillaume, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.?
My jaw dropped. Her French was impeccable. And then I realised I should really have expected it. Curator of Impressionist paintings; it made sense.
?Delighted to meet you Stella. Of course, I should have realised you would speak French!?
Stella laughed. She was dressed simply but impeccably and I knew it was French but with no idea who. I later found out it was classic Chanel. I liked her instantly. She ushered us into a sitting room where there was Pol Roger waiting. Jack did his professional thing. The house was formal and grand but not stuffy with grand spaces and, it had very modern furniture. There was a lot of Roche-Bobois.
?Jack didn?t say you spoke French; he was saving it up I guess.?
He laughed. ?I studied in Paris but also went to school in Switzerland. We all did French and German. So, in a way I grew up with it all.? Stella smiled. I could see Jack in her.
?So Guillaume, Jack has told me a lot about you.? I smiled.
?He has been singing your praises constantly, Stella so I am so pleased to see it is all true!?
She laughed and Jack did also.
Over Pol Roger we talked about so many things. It was if we had known each other forever. I felt totally comfortable and at home. Eventually Stella said:
?Well, you boys go off and relax. If I need anything I will let you know but have some time out.?
Back in Jack?s apartment, looking out into his private sunken garden, I felt happy. Jack came up behind me and put his arms around me.
?Jack, this is truly a haven. Thank you for inviting me.?
?Well, Guillaume, you are the first person with whom I have wanted to share it!?
I laughed, tousled his hair and enveloped him in my arms. We kissed.
?After dinner this evening, I have plans for you, for us and I want to save up all our energies until then! Besides, I need to get cooking!? He put on some cooking music, Schuman.
Cooking with somebody is not always easy but Jack and I managed very well. He had a clear idea of what he was doing, down to a printed menu. While Jack focused on his cake, he left me attend to the beef, which had been marinating. I transferred it to a cast iron, covered dish and placed it in the oven on a slow heat. I needed a good 6 hours. I washed and dried the salad things and left them covered and then prepared the vegetables while Jack peeled potatoes and made a salad dressing.
?What a great team we are, Guillaume!? We were indeed. All was done within an hour or so. Delicious smells soon grafted themselves onto the music.
Jack?s dining room was small but had beautiful appointments, notably a 1950s Arne Jacobsen dining table and chairs, design classics even then. Jack spent a long time setting and dressing the table to perfection. It all looked better that a top restaurant.
So with all the arrangements completed, we snuggled together on a sofa while Jack selected music for the evening. It all did seem so perfect and complete.
?I told Mom to bring the Pol Roger down here since we already killed one at her place! She?s coming around 6:00pm.?
I pulled Jack close. He always smelled so nice although I mean more his own, unmasked, natural smell. He laid me back and started kissing around my face and neck.
?You are getting me all turned on here Jack!?
?I?m turning myself on here too, Guillaume. But, you?re right. Tonight, you will be the main dessert!? He winked and smiled.
Well, dinner was memorable. Stella arrived with the Pol Roger and some small smoked salmon pastries which matched Jack?s duck rillettes, and while Vivaldi?s ?Four Seasons? animated the setting, we did toasts.
?A toast to Guillaume, the man of my dreams.? Jack looked me straight in the eye.
?Another toast to Guillaume who has made my son Jack so happy in a short time.? Stella blew kisses to us both.
It was my turn.
?To Jack first of all. Jack, you are the sweetest and most beautiful man I have ever seen anywhere. And, to you Stella, Mom, you have not only brought Jack into the world as a gift for us all but you have raised him with such perfection. And, your total acceptance of the person Jack is really makes my heart sing.?
They smiled. Stella got up and kissed us both.
?So Guillaume, you leave tomorrow. I know Jack will miss you.?
Jack intervened.
?It?s OK Mom. I have him ingrained in my head, my being. He will always be with me, wherever I am, wherever he is. We will see where all can go and what is possible.? Jack tipped his flute again.
?My travels and projects often take me all over the world, Stella to the point I often dream of my own bed.?
?Does that mean you end up with somebody waiting in every place Guillaume, or, left behind?? Stella?s point hit home but of course, I couldn?t show it. She went on, ?A very handsome man like you can?t be alone for long.?
I thought for a moment as I sipped my Pol Roger.
?Not at all, Stella, as I am actually quite shy and prefer to keep to myself. But with Jack, how could I not notice him and not want to talk with him. He?s a vision, a true beauty??
Jack looked at Stella and said matter-of-factly, ?We haven?t even talked about what might be possible yet Mom. Moving from one country to another is not that simple. France is probably more liberal and easier but as I say, we have not considered anything like that at all. All in good time.?
Well, Jack?s dinner was a triumph. Everything was pure magic and the epitome of class and quality. Afterwards we had coffee in Jack?s living room along with chocolates and Cointreau. Jack sat next to me and snuggled, as he so liked to do, my protective arm around his shoulders. I kissed the top of his head.
?You smell delicious Jack, just like the amazing dinner you cooked and just like the aromas lingering in your apartment.?
Stella laughed. She looked at her watch and said, ?Alors, croissants and coffee at my place tomorrow when you are ready but, I am going to leave you boys to it for now.?
She kissed us both and Jack escorted her to the connecting door. When he came back, he poured a couple of cognacs into balloon glasses and came and sat on the floor between my open legs, leaning back and looking into my eyes. The cognac was a perfect ending to a superb dinner. We clinked balloons.
?Thank you Jack. This has been truly special.? His head ended up against my crotch and my cock reacted. I could see he was also hard. We kissed cognac kisses. Then with a certain urgency, we both finished cleaning the kitchen areas and loading the dishwasher again and then had a shower together. We had learned our mutual washing and cleaning had immense erotic satisfaction for us both. We were both erect as we got into bed.
In bed, I enveloped Jack in the crook of my left arm and started to kiss him, deeply and passionately. As I did, I gently massaged his taint with the tips of my fingers. He parted his legs more and then, taking my hand in his, moved my fingers to his pucker, guiding then in precisely the way he wanted. He whispered between soft moans:
?Guillaume, tonight I want you to make love to me. I want to have you inside me.?
?Are you sure, Jack? The first time can be unpleasant.? He kissed me. ?I am ready.?
He reached over and took a tube of lube from the bedside drawer, handing it to me. I squeezed a generous amount into my hand and with Jack on his side, facing away from me, began gently to probe his tight pucker. Running my middle finger in gentle circles, with a little steady pressure, I slipped past his sphincter and felt his smooth inner warmth. He began to work my finger with his ass, finding the best spots and getting used to having something in what hitherto had been a very private place. I lubed my cock and allowed Jack to take control as I entered him. It took a while but eventually, I felt that deep satisfaction as my cock head eased past his tight entrance. Jack moaned and began to explore the sensations from having my cock deep inside him. I kept kissing him and with lubed fingers, began to fist his cock. We got into a perfect rhythm, gradually increasing the pace and intensity. His tightness was such a turn on. At that rate I knew I was going to cum very quickly but I stopped and focused on building Jack up through his cock. His ass muscles really began to milk me.
?Keep that up Jack and I am going to explode!? His response was even more ardent and I could feel his cock and body tense.
?Oh Guillaume, I am so close and I feel so wonderful.? He began to moan with each thrust. Jack shuddered and tensed and shot his load moments before I came inside him, all over my hand and sheet. I maintained my kisses and we remained connected, cocks softening in the delicious afterglow of wonderful sex.
?Wow, wow, wow,? was all he could say. He pushed back against me. I licked his cum off my hand, the lube adding to its sweetness. He licked some of his own cum as well. It was a real bonding moment.
?I guess I am no longer a virgin huh?? We both laughed.
We took another shower and then we spooned as we fell asleep. Early next morning I fucked him again, face-to-face, my fave position. His legs locked behind my back, I could kiss him as we fucked and fist his cock again. We were becoming well versed in the arts of mutual pleasure and we fitted together so well physically.
I came but decided I wanted to suck him off and so did so before we showered again and I packed my bag. Then it was coffee and croissants with Stella, fond farewells and we were off to O?Hare.
Jack stopped at little coffee shop on the way since the airport was going to be a nightmare and the quality of food and drink, terrible. We had a mineral water each. I looked at him. He looked at me.
?Thanks!? We both spoke at exactly the same moment in perfect synchronicity. We laughed. Back in the car I held Jack?s hand in my lap and gently rubbed the back of his neck as he drove.
?Just drop me at the terminal, Jack. It is a real nightmare of an airport.? When he pulled up at the craziness of the terminal, I leaned over and kissed him.
?You have a great future ahead of you Jack and I am proud to be part of that.? I felt a bit emotional and so did Jack.
?Guillaume, no matter what, you will always have a special place in my heart.?
One of the attendants was getting impatient so I kissed Jack again and he got out to help with my bag. We hugged and then I watched him drive off. I then had to deal with O?Hare again.
Epilogue:
I became a mentor to Jack. We could so easily have fallen in perpetual love but the same challenges presented. In those days, the US, the gayest place on earth, was also the most closeted and most in denial. It was well before e-visas and visa waivers. You had to apply for a visa and if the visa officer didn?t like you or even thought you were gay, it was a potential problem, along with a million other issues. They didn?t give visas to gays according to the rules. I had ended up with a multiple entry personal and business one, the consular officer apparently thinking I was no threat and had a prestigious series of invitations for my brain. Eventually, Jack went to art school to study film and painting. He met an international banker called Timothy about ten years older than him who Jack said reminded him of me. That was so sweet. I did meet Timothy on a trip to Hong Kong where they were stationed for three years. It was very clear that Timothy adored Jack and they looked so good together. I could see the way their eyes made love to each other, constantly. They touched and smiled. And, I felt so proud for Jack. I saw him maturing into one of the most beautiful men I had ever known, his model boyishness with an edge, transformed into a really handsome package, who had everything, who deserved everything, including absolute happiness. Today they live in New York after stints all around the world. As Jack said over a glass of Pol Roger in London once. ?Guillaume, it is all your fault for teaching me so well!? Another Pol Roger please!