Chapter 1

(When Katherine-T proposed that we write a story together I was flattered and excited. I consider her one of the best writers at Literotica and the experience was great. We divided the chores. She came up with the plot and I thought of the title. Seriously, we took turns writing scenes, althought the finale is both of us. Thank you K for the idea, the fun and especially for Diana, without whom Susan would have had a very boring time in the City of Lights.)

When the taxi lurched to a sudden stop, Diana nearly fell off the back seat.

“Voila!” the driver said, his right hand gesturing at the hotel entrance.

Not much of an entrance, Diana thought. Well, she’d wanted the Left Bank and now she had it. When she climbed out of the taxi, she could see the St. Germain des Pres church up ahead, which made her feel much better. The hotel might be small, but at least here she was in the midst of youthful memories.

The driver happily carried her two bags into the hotel entrance, and when he returned she tipped him, he tipped his cap, they smiled at each other, and at last she entered the hotel to begin her weekend in Paris.

She wanted it. A weekend away from Michael and that stuffy conference in Rome. Three days alone in Paris was just what she needed before returning to reality in New York. Everyone had their city of dreams, and for her it was Paris. This was her first time back in fourteen long years, and she was already electrified by the place.

The lobby of the hotel was minuscule, another woman, evidently a new guest, standing unattended at the desk with her luggage at her side. Diana’s luggage sat nearby under a rubber plant.

The other woman turned, looked at Diana and said. “Do you speak English? He was here just a moment ago, then he said he’d be back in a moment and he left.”

Diana smiled. “It’s not the Ritz, is it? But it’s quite comfortable. I stayed here once years ago and I liked it.”

The woman seemed relieved. She was an attractive woman in a sleeveless green dress, short brown hair and brown eyes. American, obviously. A pleasant voice with the drawl of the South. But something bothered Diana about this woman, and suddenly she realized what it was: the woman reminded her of Marion. An older Marion, but still Marion. Of course it couldn’t be. But the reminder was disconcerting.

“Well, that’s good news,” the woman said. “This is my first trip to Paris and I had to make the reservation here from Frankfurt in a hurry and nothing else seemed available. At least that’s what the tourist agency in Frankfurt told me.” Then she smiled and held out her hand. “Anyway, my name’s Susan and I’m happy to meet another American here.”

Diana shook her hand briefly. “I’m Diana. Do you have friends here?”

“Oh no, I don’t know a soul in Paris. I’m here on a lark just for the weekend.”

Diana smiled. “Well, so am I. Where are you from in the States?”

“Charleston, South Carolina.”

Susan beamed. “Yes it is. So you’ve been there.”

“Years ago. I’m from New York.”

At that moment the hotel-keeper arrived, muttering something in French, then smiling at the women. Diana stood by as Susan registered and handed over her passport. Yes, Susan did look like Marion. The same soft brown hair and luscious figure. Diana felt a sudden sadness at all the years that had passed without any knowledge of Marion. And now this woman reminding her of Marion in a flash, making her think of Marion again after all these years.

When Susan finished at the desk, Diana said: “Since we’re both here, if you’ve nothing planned for this evening, why don’t we have dinner together?”

Susan gave her a broad smile. “Oh, I’d love that.”

I’m going to LOVE Paris!”

Susan spun around on her toes as she made her announcement to her room.

She had kicked her shoes off and all but danced around the room. She was so glad she had decided to come. The city was beautiful, the day was still young and she had already made a new friend. How delightful!

It was a shame that Dan wasn’t here. They had planned this getaway for months. Although they had taken the children with them before as they explored Germany, this was to have been a weekend just for the two of them. Damn the Army. Well, it wasn’t the first time her soldier husband had been called away at no notice and she knew it wouldn’t be the last.

At the same time Susan felt… well, excited was the only word she could think of. They had already dropped the children off at the Garthwood’s house when the phone rang with the alert notification. Used to it, she fixed something for him to eat, helped him get his equipment and get out the door with a kiss. After that, she had called the travel agency to inquire about cancellation. She was told that without 72 hours notice there would be no refund.

So she threw caution to the winds. She snatched up her bags, called a cab and caught the flight from Frankfurt to Paris. The airline representative had got her in a taxi to the hotel. There she had finally started to think twice about her madcap rush when she was left standing by herself in the lobby. For the first time she was alone in a foreign country. She spoke very little French and suspected the good bit of German she had learned was not going to be useful.

Then she met Diana. Susan almost blushed to herself, remembering asking the other woman if she spoke English. Diana had seemed so elegant, so poised. Susan had half thought she must be a Frenchwoman, with her air of sophistication. It had been wonderful to learn the taller, attractive woman was not only American, but warm and friendly.

Speaking of that. Goodness, Susan looked at her watch. She needed to hurry if she was going to meet Diana on time. She slipped off the clothes she had traveled off and made for the shower. She stopped a minute as she passed the full length mirror and studied herself. She sighed. She was sure Diana didn’t have to worry about a few extra pounds around the middle. As she stepped into the shower a vagrant thought crossed her mind. She wondered what Diana looked like in the shower.

“Where did that come from?” she thought. Oh well, not important. Perhaps it was that moment when Diana’s expressive face seemed to indicate she thought she knew Susan. A strange tingle ran down Susan’s body, remembering the look Diana had given her. Susan finished her quick shower and hurried to dress. When she looked through her underwear she had to laugh. Anticipating a romantic weekend she had brought sexy little things, not regular panties and pantyhose. So she donned her skimpy black lace panties and bra before wiggling into a black cocktail dress. She fixed her makeup, pulled on a pair of heels and checked the time. It was time to meet Diana. Susan smiled. This was going to be fun.

As Diana dressed for dinner, but still wearing only panties and a bra, she remembered a small restaurant near Place Odeon where they could have a quiet dinner without the usual Left Bank mob breathing down their necks. She knew why; she had to admit it to herself. Because of her memory of Marion, she felt strongly attracted toward Susan. But then she realized that her attraction was really to Susan herself, and that the memory of Marion was merely a provocative footnote.

You want something more than a casual acquaintance with her, Diana thought with amusement. Yes, it was true. This was Paris, wasn’t it? The city of romance. Maybe after all these years of restraint, a fling with a woman was what she needed. She’d had a few larks in college, then one serious relationship shortly before she married at the age of twenty-four. That lesbian interlude with Marion had haunted her for years.

Diana knew herself. She always looked at women, found herself stimulated by the images of barely clothed attractive women common in advertising. She recognized her bisexuality, but so far she had avoided any intimacy with another woman during her marriage.

Was that about to change? Why not? But then all this cogitation might be irrelevant. She knew nothing about Susan, and Susan might be horrified at the idea of any physical intimacy with another woman.

Get dressed, she thought. She found fresh tights and drew them up her legs and thighs and hips. She decided to wear pants tonight, gray pin-striped pants, gray pin-striped jacket, a long-sleeve white button down shirt with sleeves so long she had to fold them back over the cuffs of the jacket. Around her neck, she tied and fluffed a black silk scarf. She slipped on a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals she had bought in Rome. Finished, at last. But when she looked at herself in the full-length mirror near the door, she wondered if the emphasis on style was overdone. But she’d brought nothing simpler than this, so it had to do. She checked her watch: they’d arranged to meet in the hotel lobby at seven, and it was time to go.

Susan hurried down the hall and into the rickety elevator. She didn’t want to keep Diana waiting. It just seemed important to make a good impression on her new friend by being on time. She stepped out of the elevator as it wheezed to a halt.

She almost gasped as she saw Diana. On anyone else the suit and shirt might have looked out of place, but Diana made it look incredibly feminine. Diana turned and smiled at her. Susan felt that same strange tingle as Diana’s eyes seemed to travel completely over her body. Seized by a sudden impulse, Susan winked at Diana and spoke. “Hey there, I’m ready for our date. How do I look?”

Susan thought she was going to die. She just knew Diana was going to think she was some kind of idiot. Instead, the other woman smiled softly and offered Susan her arm. “You look lovely Susan.” Diana escorted Susan out to the street where a taxi was already waiting. She gave the driver directions, then told Susan about the restaurant.

On the way they talked. It was the usual ‘getting to know each other’ chatter. Susan talked about her husband and kids and found out about Diana’s. They discovered they both enjoyed jazz and Diana mentioned a lovely little bistro she had been to before and suggested after dinner they go there. Susan thought again how lucky she had been to meet Diana. The more she got to know about the New York woman, the more she liked her. At the same time there seemed to be a strange undercurrent in their conversation. Susan had no idea what it was, except somehow there seemed to be a connection between them going past what one would expect of two casual acquaintances.

When they reached the restaurant Diana paid the driver and got out first. It seemed only natural for her to offer Susan her hand as she slid across the seat. In clambering out Susan felt her dress ride all the way up until she realized her skimpy panties must be showing. She looked up to see Diana’s eyes fixed on her legs. Susan tugged the dress down quickly and walked in the door.

As they waited to be seated Susan’s mind whirled. Did Diana really look at her legs or was Susan seeing things? Susan was not entirely inexperienced in other women. However it had been confined to some kissing and heavy petting with a couple of college friends. She had always been intrigued by the idea of finding out more but she had met and fallen in love with Dan. After that she hadn’t thought about it again. She looked at the lovely woman next to her. Surprising herself again, she realized her hand was still on Diana’s arm. Well, this was certainly going to be an interesting weekend.

As they chatted their way through dinner and a bottle of wine, Diana’s thoughts were confused. What did she want? She felt a growing sexual attraction toward this woman, but she wasn’t certain whether she ought to act on it, or whether Susan felt the same way, or whether the idea was simply foolish and a result of the sex in her marriage having become so routine and predictable as to be dead and boring.

Or maybe the current situation in her marriage had nothing to do with this and the crux of the matter was that she wanted to be in bed with a woman. This woman, anyway. She remembered Susan’s legs exposed, her own sudden lust as she gazed at those lovely thighs. Had Susan noticed?

And now, as they talked, her eyes kept returning to Susan’s throat and breasts. Was she being too obvious? And what did she want anyway? She imagined she would have to make the first move, and she could not pretend she would be any good at that. She had no experience, at least nothing since Marion outside her imagination. Imagining women undressed was not experience. She imagined Susan’s body, the legs and thighs she had already seen, Susan’s breasts and hips. Round womanly hips. Good breasts. A quiver of excitement passed through Diana as she imagined her hands holding Susan’s breasts, her fingertips caressing the nipples before she took one in her mouth. Or Susan making love to her.

She chatted with Susan about family, children, the mundane aspects of life, while in her mind she imagined the two of them locked in a torrid embrace, head to toe, their mouths sucking at their cores, juices flowing as they both moaned in their pleasure. I want her, Diana thought. The question was how to get what she wanted.

Susan leaned on the vanity, staring in the mirror. She held her lipstick in her right hand, poised to touch her lips. She couldn’t do it, not with her hand shaking like it was. Diana was attracted to her. More than that, Susan acknowledged, Diana was attracted to her sexually.

Dinner had been lovely. The talking had barely slowed for the food. Diana had been just as sparkling and entertaining as Susan knew she would be. She had enjoyed the effort required to keep her end of the conversation on the same level as Diana’s. It was stimulating.

The thing was the conversation wasn’t the only thing that was stimulating. From the moment Susan had seen Diana’s eyes on her legs getting out of the cab at the restaurant she had been confused. Confused and excited. The longer the evening had gone on the more she had realized that Diana was looking at her, perhaps not as a man looks at woman, but something even more intimate. And oh, so much more exciting.