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The French Apartment Chapter 3: The Hangover
I felt a hand on my shoulder as the heavy duvet comforter was pulled off my back and dropped onto the floor.
“Wake up, sleepy,” Claudine said. “You can’t stay in bed all day.”
I blinked and looked around. Claudine pulled the curtains back and bright light streamed through the bedroom windows. I was still groggy as I tried to figure out where I was. The bed was huge, plush, and comfortable, and there were layers of fluffy pillows in front of me. I was in Claudine’s bedroom… no, our bedroom, since I didn’t have a separate room of my own. I was still on my stomach and I realized that I hadn’t moved an inch the entire night. In my morning haze I tried to distinguish between whether my memories of last night were real, or just a dream.
I turned onto my back and laid my head against one of the large pillows. Claudine had walked over to a corner of the room where she had mirrors and cosmetics. Her bare foot was on a red velvettopped stool and she was moisturizing her left leg. She wore a black silk robe with a subtle purple flower pattern: like everything else she owned, it looked expensive.
I rubbed my forehead. “Was yesterday… what we did… real?”
Claudine arched an eyebrow while she worked. “Was what real?”
“In the bathroom,” I groaned, still regaining my ability to speak. “When I…” I struggled. It would sound ridiculous to say out loud, if it was indeed just a dream.
Claudine reached to a pile of white fabric beside her and threw it back to me. It was her nightgown from last night, and the bottom was a little crispy and stained.
“Well one thing which is real is that you still need to take my robe to the cleaner,” she said, as she switched to moisturizing her other leg.
As I held the robe, the details of yesterday came back to me and I felt my horniness return like a wave. I glanced over at Claudine and traced the curve of her ass which pushed gently from underneath her black silk robe.
“Part of you remembers well enough,” Claudine murmured, grinning.
I followed her eyes which were staring down at the tent I was making in my pajamas.
“You should take care of that,” she said, nodding to my crotch. “I can’t have you acting like a wild animal all day.”
I looked down. Was she saying what I thought she was? Testing, I ran a hand under my pajamas and stroked my dick, slowly, to see how she would react. Claudine kept eyeing me in the mirror and I stroked as I watched her. She stood and undid her bun, letting down her long hair.
“We don’t have all morning, we have a lot to do today,” Claudine murmured.
She shifted her body and her robe fell into a black puddle on the floor. She was nearly fully exposed except for her lingerie: black lace panties and a matching bra. She bent forward slightly, reaching onto her dresser for another bottle.
I pushed down my pajama pants, letting my cock hang naked in the air for a moment.
My eyes ran over her smooth back, long legs, and her firm bare ass, barely covered by her black panties. She let her hair down to her side, tilting her head, as she combed some sort of product through it.
“Go on then, horny boy,” she murmured quietly, just loud enough for me to hear.
I began stroking myself and for a few minutes Claudine just watched me through the mirror and brushed her hair. Seeing Claudine watch me made my cock stiffen even more. I stroked myself faster as she watched, breathing heavier now. I felt precum wet the tip of my dick as I stared at her ass and imagined what it would feel like to fuck her.
Vivienne said something in French on the other side of the door and I scrambled to cover myself. The comforter was on the floor, so I quickly hid under the thin sheet and buried the white robe underneath it as well.
Claudine walked across the room to her dresser and pulled on a tight beige pencil skirt as she spoke to Vivienne on the other side of the door.
Vivienne poked her head inside just as I finished getting underneath the sheet. Her mouth was scowling but I couldn’t tell the expression in her eyes because she was wearing giant sunglasses. She was also wearing an oversized black Tshirt with some French band on the front that came down to her thighs. A pair of extremely short yellow pajama shorts barely poked out underneath the shirt.
Vivienne started to speak quickly in French, but Claudine held up a finger.
“Tsk, English. And why are you wearing sunglasses?” Claudine asked.
“Stop yelling,” Vivienne moaned, and went to close the curtains. She turned to Claudine. “Why is your bra out?”
“This from a girl who never wears a bra except when I make her?” Claudine scoffed. “And I am not yelling, are you hungover?”
Vivienne waved a dismissive hand and turned to me with her mouth twisted into a frown. “And what are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Just waking up.”
Vivienne looked suspiciously from me to Claudine, who was trying on a blouse from her huge closet. Vivienne turned back to me. “Were you jerking it to my mother?”
“No!” I lied. “I was just waking up…”
“Stop being mean to James,” Claudine chided, as she examined her outfit in the mirror.
Vivienne walked up beside my bed, and her expression remained hidden behind those huge sunglasses. My eyes lingered on her bare thighs and when she hovered over me, I could clearly see the perky, round bulges of her breasts pushing out from underneath her loose Tshirt. My dick twitched involuntarily.
“It keeps moving,” Vivienne said.
“What’s moving?” Claudine asked. They spoke in French for a minute.
Claudine shrugged. “It’s natural for boys.”
Vivienne’s eyes darted quickly to Claudine, who was still engrossed in her own outfit. Then Vivienne turned to the bulge I was making in the sheet and pushed a finger onto the head of my dick. I sucked in my breath in surprise; I was already sensitive, and her finger pushed right onto the tip.
Vivienne turned to me and crossed her arms. “So boys just wake up with this… morning wood all the time?”
I shrugged. “A lot of the time, I guess.”
Vivienne scoffed. “I still think you were jerking it.”
Claudine walked over to the curtains and opened them wide. Vivienne yelped and turned away from the light like a vampire.
“How much did you drink?!” Claudine asked.
Vivienne turned to me. “He should have drunk more of the Sauternes. He left too much for me.”
“Sauternes?” Claudine asked as she put her hands on her hips. “Were you just buying the most expensive wines you could find?”
Vivienne waved a hand. “That’s not the point.”
“It isn’t?” Claudine asked.
“The point is that my manservant was not being helpful,” Vivienne said.
“Manservant?” Claudine asked, looking between both of us curiously.
“I promised Vivienne last night that I’d help her with whatever she needed,” I explained. “She said that made me her ‘manservant.'”
“Yes, and he should be helping me today. I’m in pain,” Vivienne complained, and crossed her arms.
A very slight smile crossed Claudine’s face, and she thought for a moment. “Alright, I can change some plans. He can be your… manservant this morning, Vivienne,” she said with a chuckle. “But I did have an appointment for him at Geraldo’s that I would like to keep later today.”
Vivienne began to complain, but Claudine interrupted her quickly and cut her off. Vivienne retreated to the doorway.
“Fine, just stop yelling,” Vivienne moaned.
“I’m not yelling,” Claudine said, and turned to me. “You need some new clothes before you begin classes next week.”
“I do?” I asked.
Claudine just looked at me and smirked.
Vivienne turned to me from the doorway. “I want an omelet.”
“I like those sunglasses by the way,” I said, trying to cheer her up.
“With chevre,” Vivienne demanded, and left the room.
I looked to Claudine and dropped my voice. “I don’t know how to make an omelet. I can make scrambled eggs; will she eat that?”
Claudine shook her head. “Vivienne said ‘omelet’ so that is what she wants.”
“Okay… what is ‘chevre’?” I asked.
“Goat cheese,” Claudine explained. “We should have some.”
“Can you help me make one?” I asked.
Claudine shook her head. She removed the blouse she was trying on and debated between two more options hanging in her dresser. “I do not cook. I will check to see if Francesca is feeling better, but Vivienne is impatient so… try watching a YouTube?”
Claudine walked over to her dresser and began to try on earrings. She still wore only her black bra and her tight pencil skirt, and I was sure she was trying to tempt me.
I got out of bed still naked, snuck behind Claudine, and shoved my erection against her skirt. She gasped as I began to undo the clasps on the back of her bra.
“James!” she whirled and took my hands in hers. Her eyes were hard, and she looked at me like an empress: ready to exact judgment on a problematic subject. She seemed two feet taller than me, somehow.
“I just thought that since yesterday you would be alright with it…” I trailed off, as her eyes were enough to silence me.
Claudine pointed to the floor in front of the bed. “Lie down.”
At least the floor had a comfortable rug. I laid down naked on the thick rug and watched as Claudine closed and locked the door to the bedroom. She pressed a button on a wall and music began playing from hidden speakers: a French singer singing something soft and melodic. I realized she was making sure Vivienne couldn’t hear.
Claudine returned to stand over me. “Hands at your sides,” she commanded, and I stood straight, arms on my sides, as if I was about to be shot out of a cannon. I saw her eyes glance at my twitching, confused dick. I was halfhard, exposed, and unsure.
Claudine unzipped the side of her skirt and stepped out of it, now again only wearing her lingerie. She examined the back of the skirt and put her finger onto a small round stain where the tip of my dick had pushed against it. She licked her finger, turned to me, and frowned.
“Did you consider whether I would want to walk around Paris with your… juices on my ass?”
I shifted slightly. “I didn’t think of that,” I admitted.
She threw the skirt on her bed, next to her white robe. “Your list of clothes to clean keeps growing,” she said, shaking her head.
I gasped as Claudine stepped forward and placed her bare foot onto my flopping cock.
“I think we need to establish some… ground rules,” she said as her heel pressed gently against my balls and her foot rested on my shaft. My eyes looked from her bare foot, up the length of her long legs, to her lacy black panties.
“Claudine, I’m sorry,” I stammered.
She leaned down, and my eyes went to her cleavage automatically. She raised her foot off my dick and pushed my chin upwards with her big toe. “You will look into my eyes as you talk to me.”
As much as my eyes wanted to explore her nearly naked body, I forced them to stay on her hard, bright eyes. I nodded, and her foot returned to my dick.
Her arms gestured around her. “Do you want to live here for the next year, James?”
I gulped and nodded. “Yes, Claudine.”
“Good,” she said and the pressure on my cock increased slightly. “But that means you would be staying in my home. I allow Vivienne to keep her things in her room, and everything else here…” she gestured around herself again. “…belongs to me. Do you understand?”
Her foot grinded slowly, and my erection grew harder under her foot.
I nodded. “I understand.”
She bent down and I struggled to keep my hands at my sides and remain still. “I want you to stay here as well. But I have a problem, James. Do you know what it is?”
I shook my head.
Her foot moved slowly up and down the length of my shaft, and I felt my erection slip in between her big toe and second toe.
“My problem is that I have recently acquired a new pet: a twenty year old American boy…”
“Twentyone,” I corrected, gulping.
She smirked. “A twentyone year old American boy… with a rather nice cock, but who has the selfcontrol of a horny teenage goat. And you see James, I do not like to own things that I cannot control. So you see my problem.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Now, since you mentioned yesterday, I suppose we must discuss it…” her eyes bored into mine, and I waited. “Did you enjoy being able to… relieve yourself? In the bath, and on my robe?” she asked.
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Do you want to do these things again?”
“Yes,” I said desperately.
“Now James, these were things you did because I allowed you to do them. I cannot have an out of control goat in my apartment, especially not with my daughter in it. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Yes, I understand.”
“So now I must make a decision. Either I trust that my new pet can control himself, or… I send him back to America. What should I do?”
“Let me stay,” I groaned. “Please.”
Claudine raised an eyebrow. “Because sending him back would be so easy.” She snapped, loud and authoritarian. “One phone call to the Parisian Academy. I can have the president on the line in two minutes.”
My eyes widened. “Please don’t…”
“So what are you?” she asked. “Pet or goat?”
“I’m… I’m your pet,” I said, gasping as her foot pressed against my boner. Another bead of precum wetted the tip of my dick and got on her toe, which curled around the head of my cock.
“And why are you waiting on my daughter this morning?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Because… she’s hungover?” I guessed.
“You aren’t paying attention, James,” she said, and her heel pushed herder into my balls.
“Because you said I should,” I whispered, barely able to form words now as I winced.
“I’m glad we understand each other,” she said, and motioned for me to stand up. I stood, hands at my sides, and she cradled my cock in her hand. I was so horny I felt like I could burst.
“You’re leaking,” she said, and looked up at me.
I just stared at her in desperation.
“Fine, I cannot allow you to wait on my daughter in this condition,” Claudine said.
She pushed me back against the bed, sitting my ass against the edge of the bed and positioning me like a doll. Her hands went behind her back and I watched as her bra fell to the floor, exposing her bare, beautiful breasts. They jiggled as Claudine leaned over me and placed my hands onto them. I cupped them greedily, feeling their soft, incredible weight as they squished between my fingers while her taut nipples poked into my palms. Each breast was just a little too big to be fully contained by my hands and my cock roared to a full, throbbing erection as I grabbed them.
Her hand swirled around my cock and I groaned loudly.
“Shh!” Claudine whispered, her eyes flitting to the door behind her.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
She knelt in front of me and tilted her head so that her long hair flowed to the side of her head and positioned her lips just above my aching cock. I felt her warm breath on the sensitive tip of my dick.
Her bright eyes found mine.
“Time for a review to see if my new pet has learned anything. So, when do you get to release yourself?”
“When you say so,” I said.
“Good,” she replied. “Now hurry up, and cum in my mouth.”
Claudine’s lips curled over the head of my dick and she continued to look into my eyes as she took inch after inch into her. I lost my ability to speak or think as I felt the warmth of her mouth envelop me. I leaned back against the bed, closed my eyes, and concentrated… it was like my cock was being massaged inside a warm pool. Her tongue curled around the head of my dick and her jaw opened wider as her head took my entire length until her nose pushed into my pubic hair.
I groaned and bucked my hips, desperately shoving myself as deep as I could. Her hands moved under my butt cheeks and grabbed, bringing my hips higher up and assisting my shoving, pushing my cock deep into her mouth. I heard her gag slightly as I felt the tip of my cock push on the back of her throat. She sucked harder and my toes curled. As her head bobbed, I lost all control and began to cum. I forced myself to stay silent as I came, shaking, into the warmth of Claudine’s mouth.
I heard the sound of Claudine’s gulping over the French music playing from the speakers. I laid against the bed and bucked my hips in weak spasms, uncontrollably, as the orgasm passed through me. Finally, she pulled her head up and took a deep breath. Her hand massaged my cock gently, and a final ounce of cum spurted out, landing on her lips and chin. I just lay back against the bed, panting.
Claudine walked over to her dresser, wiped her mouth, and threw a box of tissues at me.
“Get up,” Claudine said. “My daughter is many things, but patient is not one of them.”
I took the tissues and wiped the cum, sweat, and saliva from my crotch. Claudine quickly threw on a blouse and skirt and examined herself in the mirror. I moved slowly, regaining the use of my limbs. By the time I managed to clean myself and find my jeans, Claudine was fully dressed and ready to walk out the door.
“Claudine,” I moaned, before she could leave.
She turned and raised an eyebrow.
“I just wanted to say… merci beaucoup,” I said, and grinned. “For that and also… for letting me can stay. I’ll show that you can trust me.”
“Je t’en prie,” she said. “But it was not just for you; I can’t have an animal in that state waiting on my daughter.” She raised a finger and pointed it at me. “And if you ever want that to happen again, I don’t want to hear any complaints from Vivienne about you.”
“I will be a perfect gentleman,” I said.
Claudine smirked, turned off the music, and left the apartment.
I sighed and threw on a pair of jeans and a Tshirt. My head was swimming as I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was moving slowly as I struggled to concentrate on anything. I washed my face, and when I opened my eyes I yelped in shock as a dark figure stood behind me in the mirror, like a phantom dressed in black.
“Where is my omelet?” Vivienne demanded, and put two fingers to her forehead. “And stop yelling.”
“Uh, I was just about to start on that,” I said. “I was just… getting dressed and brushing my teeth and all that.”
“Well hurry up,” she said, and violently slapped my ass, much harder than I would have expected from someone so small and petite. Vivienne left for her room, and I rubbed my sore buttocks as I made my way into the kitchen.
The kitchen was well stocked, and I was able to find pans, eggs, and butter. The appliances were all cute pieces in a retro, midcentury style. While they looked like old, vintage appliances, they seemed to be in good condition and at least they turned on and worked fine. I cracked some eggs and began to heat a pan.
I took Claudine’s advice and put ‘French omelet’ into YouTube. I tried my best to recreate what Jacques Pépin was trying to teach me, but my first attempt turned into a scrambled mess when I tried to flip it, and my second attempt burned from having the heat too high. I only had three eggs left, so I worked carefully and slowly knowing it was my last shot. I watched the video before trying to flip the omelet again and… well, it may not have been as pretty as Jacques’s omelet was, but it seemed close enough that I deemed it a success. I smeared some goat cheese on top and poured a glass of orange juice as well.
I found my way over to Vivienne’s room. The door was already open a crack, but I knocked just to be safe.
“Putain!” Vivienne cursed. “God, stop banging,” she moaned.
I pushed the door open and entered. The light was low and her walls were covered with posters: mostly punk bands and female singers. I recognized the Cure and Annie Lennox, and there were also a lot of newspaper clippings from magazines of French newspapers. Many of the references were decades old: I wondered if this was a current retro fashion among Parisian teens or if she had just developed her tastes from being exposed to a lot of American culture from the 80s and 90s. I made a mental note to return later and try to decipher more of what she had put up, since it seemed like she displayed a lot of her personality on her wall that she otherwise kept hidden.
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