3

Jackie in Paris

Jackie was a girl who knew what she wanted and, for the most part, how to get it. She wasn’t shy when it came to meeting new people or experiencing new things, or when it came to her physical relationships. She attended Smith College, a small, private liberal-arts school in Northampton, Massachusetts, and one of the few remaining schools whose principal objective was undergraduate education for women. The 125-acre campus housed twenty-five hundred undergraduate females as well as several hundred graduate coeds. Jackie’s parents were pleased she decided to attend Smith because they thought that the mostly female population would allow Jackie to concentrate on her education.

Although this was the case, the male students attending the prestigious universities in New England were well aware of Smith and the twenty-five hundred girls on campus, mostly from well-to-do families. The program at Smith included an option to study abroad during junior year. In fact, almost one quarter of the junior class participated in this program. Jackie had decided to study in Paris, and that was one of the reasons she chose Smith. Jackie loved art, which was the primary reason she selected Paris for her overseas study. Little did she know her year abroad would enhance her academic studies and give her a better sense of what she wanted from life. Even though the Smith students were supervised while abroad, they had many opportunities to experience life in their host countries.

One such case for Jackie was her relationship that developed with François. He was a twenty-nine-year-old artist whose outstanding talent hadn’t been discovered yet. Jackie was seated alone at a small outdoor cafe just around the corner from where she lived. She was having a drink of bottled water when she first saw François. He had his ever-present drawing pad under his arm as he strolled down the sidewalk across from the café. They seemed to notice each other about the same time, and there was an instant connection. Jackie noticed his great butt and the friendly expression on his face. As for François, Jackie’s red hair and striking body were all he needed to spring into action.

He crossed the small street and approached her table. “Parlez-vous français?” he asked.

Although Jackie had taken French as part of her studies at Smith, she shook her head no.

François spoke almost perfect English but chose to use a broken style of English at first. “American, yes?”

Jackie nodded.

“Join you?”

This time Jackie responded, “If you must.”

“Are you here on holiday?” he asked.

“No. I’m studying for a year in Paris. My college has a program that includes study abroad during the third year of school.” Jackie took one look at his pad and the leather pouch that held his drawing equipment and said, “I guess you must be the local artist.”

“Well, I don’t know about the local part, but yes, I am an artist,” François responded.

He was apparently familiar with the café, as he called the waiter by name. He ordered two glasses of wine and some cheese with a loaf of French bread. Jackie understood what he had ordered and was surprised by his action. However, she hadn’t eaten lunch and wanted to learn more about this attractive Frenchman.

The waiter returned in a few minutes with a tray containing the wine, cheese, and warm bread.

“What is this?” Jackie asked.

“I thought you might like some refreshment. You are so skinny. You must not eat very much.”

Almost automatically, Jackie said, “I’m too fat.”

Nothing was further from the truth, as François knew from his first glance at her. If anything, Jackie could have used a few pounds. They began to eat the bread and cheese as they questioned each other about their lives. Jackie became more interested as François described his life in Paris. Gradually it became evident that he did, in fact, have a firm command of English. On the other hand, Jackie did not tip her hand as to her understanding of French.

“Where are you staying while in Paris?” he asked.

“I share an apartment around the corner at Twelve rue Royal. I live there with my roommate from Smith.”

“Smith? Is that the name of your school?” François asked.

“Yes. It is in Massachusetts.”

“That is in your New England, yes?”

“That’s right. It’s a girls’ school. We have about twenty-five hundred students attending the undergraduate school.”

“You mean there are no male students, just girls?”

“That’s right. Except for a few graduate students, it is all girls.”

“Sounds like heaven,” was his response. “Why did you choose to have a roommate?” François inquired.

“Well, my parents didn’t want me to live alone, so Barb is my roommate. She’s a lot of fun, and we do everything together.”

“Did you say ‘everything’?”

“Well, not quite everything,” Jackie answered.

As they finished their repast, it was clear there was an instant attraction between them. “Would you like to see my flat? You could see some of my drawings,” François asked. Normally Jackie wouldn’t have been so quick to say yes, but she liked François and was interested in seeing his drawings.

“Sure. Is it far from here?”

“It’s two stops on the Métro. Have you used it?”

“Yes, Barb drags me all over Paris on it,” Jackie replied.

François paid the waiter, and they walked to the Métro entrance. The two stops passed quickly, and they emerged from the subway into the muted light of an early spring afternoon. The weather was typical for that time of year, not great but OK. François led the way to his flat. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and opened the door for Jackie. The doorway led into a vestibule and to the stairs. His flat was on the third floor of this older row home that was of an earlier age. It was easy to see the quality of this home and the detail in the design. Each flat had fireplaces in the living room, den, and bedroom. The woodwork was superb, and the hardwood floors were beautiful. The ceilings were ornate, and the doors were solid wood.

“Do you live alone?” Jackie asked.

“Yes. I like to be able to come and go as I please. I often work at odd hours. Generally, I draw during the best light of day, but sometimes I add finishing touches at night by the fireplace light,” François explained.

“I know what you mean; the one thing about having a roommate is that you must think of what they are doing before you plan something in your apartment.”

François had his studio in a room off the living room. Jackie walked toward the partially open door to the studio and peered into the room. There was a skylight that poured light into the room, and Jackie could see scores of drawings along the walls. A sofa was in the center of the room with some assorted furniture surrounding it. An easel that held a partially completed drawing was in front of the sofa. It was immediately apparent: François sketched old buildings and nude girls. It appeared that most of the nudes had been drawn on the sofa in the room.

François saw Jackie looking into the room and said, “Please go in and look at my work.”

“Are you sure?” Jackie asked.

“Go, go.”

Jackie opened the door and walked into his studio. She was surprised by the quality of his work. He drew in a style called photo realism. His drawings looked like photographs, and his use of shading gave many of them a three-dimensional quality. He used charcoal and pencils. Only one of his sketches was done in color.

François asked, “Can I get you something?”

“Yes, a bottle of water would be fine.”

He went to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of spring water.

“Your drawings are so real. I see you don’t use much color.”

“I use color only when I am happy with my work,” he responded.

The number of nude women François had drawn surprised Jackie. He saw her blush as she examined his nudes. There were at least ten different girls in his drawings. One particular girl must have been special, for he had over a dozen sketches of her. Jackie would not have been surprised if these models had started to talk, they were so lifelike.

“How long have you been drawing?” Jackie asked.

“Ever since I can remember. My family always gave me drawing supplies for gifts. I would draw almost anything that caught my attention from the time I attended grammar school,” François responded.

“Did you have any formal training?”

“Yes, several artists I met at the Louvre worked with me for the past two years.”

Françoise saw that Jackie was embarrassed by some of his drawings, and he tried to make her feel more at ease. “The French do not have the same shyness about nudity as you Americans. Many French girls pose in the nude with no more reluctance than if I took your picture right now with your clothing on.”

Jackie sat on a small stool and looked at a sketch detailing the front door of Notre Dame. François’s drawing concentrated on the gargoyles that adorned the doorway. He explained, “When this church was built in the thirteenth century, there was still the vestige of pre-Christian superstition in France. The gargoyles were intended to protect the church from evil spirits.”

Jackie got up and walked to the far wall where a stack of nudes had been placed. The drawings captured every detail and curve of the girls’ bodies. The shading made them look even more real. It didn’t matter whether you looked at the light in their eyes, the curve of their necks, the areolas surrounding their nipples, or their pubic areas; all were depicted with reverence and accuracy.

Jackie finished looking at the sketches and decided it was time to go back to her apartment. François took her back to 12 rue Royal and said goodbye at the front door of her building. Several weeks passed, and then Jackie found a note from François on her apartment door. The note had his telephone number on it and said, Would you like to go cycling with me on Saturday? I will pick you up Saturday at ten unless I hear from you. Jackie thought he was a bit overconfident, but decided to take him up on his offer.

At a little after ten Saturday morning, there was a knock at their apartment door. Jackie was still in the bathroom, so Barbara answered the door. François introduced himself, and Barb asked him to come in and wait for Jackie. Although Jackie was actually ready, she had decided to keep him waiting for a few minutes to give Barb a chance to look him over.

François asked Barbara, “How do you like Paris?”

“It’s great. I plan to return some day after I’ve completed college.”

François thought to himself that Barb was a very attractive blonde, but she was not in the same league as Jackie.

In about fifteen minutes, Jackie emerged from the bathroom and came over to François. He stood up and asked Jackie, “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure,” she answered. “I’ll see you tonight, Barb.”

They went to the door and François turned to Barb and said, “Au revoir. It was nice meeting you.” François had his car parked in front of Jackie’s flat with two bicycles strapped to the top. They got into the car and took off for the country. François’s driving was like all the other French that Jackie had encountered. They all seemed to drive like a bat out of hell.

Jackie asked, “Where are we going riding?”

“I thought we would get away from Paris and drive north to the countryside. The small French towns are so picturesque.”

Jackie had not been outside of Paris, and she was glad he had chosen the country for their cycling. She expected that small towns would be very different from Paris, and the change was a welcome one for her.

It was about eleven thirty when François pulled the car into a rest area near the town of Clermont. He removed the bicycles from the roof of the car and strapped a lunch basket and his sketchpad on the back of his cycle. They started down the small country lane. As they rode down the two-lane path, François asked, “Do you ride in the States?”

“Sometimes. I usually go to the spa for my exercise,” Jackie said.

François wanted to flatter her and said, “It shows. You have the most perfect figure that I have ever seen.”

Jackie was a little embarrassed by his comment, but she quickly said, “I’ll take that as a compliment, given all the beautiful girls you have seen.”

They continued down the road for about an hour before they stopped in a meadow for lunch. François spread a blanket on the grass and laid out the lunch he’d prepared. There was an assortment of meats and cheese as well as the ever-present French bread. He had also brought some wine and bottled water. They spent half an hour eating their lunch and talking about their lives.

After lunch, François asked Jackie if he could sketch her lying on the blanket. Given the beautiful women he was accustomed to using for models, Jackie was flattered by his request. “Sure,” she answered. “I would like to pose for you, as long as I can keep my clothing on.”

“Please lie on your side. I will cover the basket with part of the blanket and make a rest for your head. I want you to be comfortable. It will take me about an hour to complete the essentials. I will fill in the details later at my studio.”

Jackie got comfortable and François began to sketch her beautiful face.

About an hour had passed when François announced, “I have enough for now. We should start back.”

It was four o’clock when they arrived at the car. François fastened the bicycles on the roof, and they began the drive back to Paris.

When they arrived at François’s flat, it was getting dark.

“How about going to dinner with me,” he asked.

“Barb is expecting me home early,” replied Jackie.

But François persisted, saying, “Why don’t you call her and tell her we are having dinner together.”

“I need to freshen up after our ride.”

“You can use the bath, and my sister has some clothing in the apartment that should fit you.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you think your sister would mind a stranger using her clothing?”

“Not at all,” François insisted.

Jackie used the phone in François’s studio so she would have a little privacy. “Barb, guess what? He asked me to dinner. What do you think I should do?”

“What will you wear?” Barb asked. “You must be a mess after the bike ride.”

“He offered to let me use his bath and borrow some clothing of his sister’s he has here.”

Barb was a little surprised, but she said, “Whatever you think is best. You did say you liked him. This will give you a chance to get to know him better.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Jackie told Barb.

“Yes, if the sun doesn’t come up too early!”

“You’re bad. I will not spend the night, at least not on the first date. See you.” They said goodbye and hung up.

As Jackie came out of the studio, François greeted her with two of his sister’s dresses. “Take your pick. You will look sensational in either one. In fact, you would look great in anything.”

Jackie chose a beige dress with a scooped neck and a skirt that came just above the knee. He showed her the tub and gave her some fresh towels. The first thing Jackie noticed was the bidet. She did not comment as François walked to the tub and began drawing her bath water. She hung the dress on a hook fastened to the wall and led François to the bathroom door. It was as if he was hoping for an invitation to help her take a bath. She was not about to make such an offer.

She added some bath salts and finished filling the tub. She wondered why he had all those great-smelling bath salts. Could it be that she was not the first female guest to use his tub? Jackie had soaked about half an hour when she again noticed the bidet. She recalled overhearing stories her grandfather had told about this appliance. During World War I, the American doughboys were surprised to see the French prostitutes wash themselves on the bidet after servicing them. Many of the American soldiers came from farms where they didn’t even have inside plumbing much less a bidet. The sight of a naked woman mounted on this thing washing her private parts was unexpected to say the least. The rumor was that the bidet not only fulfilled a practical need but also gave the women pleasure as well.

Jackie decided that, although she was not in need of any further cleaning, she would give it a try to see if the rumor was true. She got out of the tub and walked over to the bidet. Jackie tried the spigots so she would know how it operated. She mounted it and turned on the water. To her delight, the feeling of the water gushing into her was titillating. She knew why this bathroom fixture was so popular in Europe. She wondered why this wasn’t more popular with American women. François heard the sound of Jackie using the bidet, and he couldn’t help but picture her sitting on it. This thought stayed with him for some time.

It took Jackie another half an hour to complete her bath. She decided not to wear her soiled underwear and put her panties and bra in her purse. Jackie often went without a bra, but she normally wore small bikini panties.

When she came out of the bathroom, François took one look at her and said, “You look fantastic. My sister, Babette, never filled out that dress the way you do!”

Jackie began to blush and said, “You better be careful. I will tell her what you said.”

François took some clean clothing from his bedroom and went into the bathroom. Unlike Jackie, François took only twenty minutes to bathe and get dressed. While he was in the bathroom, Jackie read some of his magazines about French artists. When François came out of the bathroom and saw her reading the books, which were in French, he said, “I thought you did not understand French.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t want you to know everything about me at once.”

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, it was about eight o’clock. That was a perfect time to begin dinner in Paris. Since François now knew that Jackie understood his language, she ordered her menu in French. Dinner lasted two hours, and when they finished François asked if she wanted to take a cab or walk in the cool spring air.

“Let’s walk,” Jackie suggested.

“That’s fine,” he agreed. François paid the waiter, and they were on their way. When they got to his flat, François said, “Would you like a night cap?” By this time, Jackie was relaxed with François. She decided to take him up on his offer.

They climbed the two flights of stairs, and François opened the door for Jackie.

She looked around and said, “Where is my portrait?”

François reached into the closet and pulled out his tablet that contained the sketch he had started that afternoon.

Jackie was surprised when she looked at it, and said, “You’ve only completed my face. When will you do the rest of me?”

“Well, how about now?”

“Only if you have some good wine,” replied Jackie. “It always puts me in a relaxed mood.”

“Please take a seat on the sofa,” responded François. “I’ll be right back with your wine.”

François returned in a few minutes and said, “Lie on your side like you were this afternoon.” He placed her portrait on the easel and began to sharpen his pencils. Jackie wondered if he would ask her to undress and contemplated what she would say if he did. She didn’t have to wait very long.

François came from behind his easel and sat on the edge of the sofa next to her. “I would like to complete your portrait in the nude.”

Jackie looked up into his face and asked, “Will you give me the drawing when it’s complete?”

“If you like,” he responded. François reached down and slowly began to undo the buttons that started at the collar and ended at the bottom of her skirt. It soon became evident Jackie was not wearing a bra. He already knew she didn’t have one on by the way her breasts poked through her dress. However, he was surprised to find her naked stomach as he opened the buttons at her waist. By this time Jackie was blushing, and it seemed like a lifetime until François opened the last several buttons to reveal her dark red patch.

He removed her dress, which enabled him to see the true extent of her beautiful body. It was a sight to behold. He thought to himself, I have never had a sexier model. She is exquisite. He couldn’t wait to capture her likeness on paper and began his labor of love.

Jackie’s long red hair fell lightly over her shoulders as if to guide his eyes to her uplifted breasts. She was a C cup that seemed to poke upward toward the ceiling. Her waist was small but not so small that it looked out of proportion to her hips. She had a flat tummy and perfectly shaped legs that led to her delicate feet to round out this five-foot-six beauty from America.

“Lie more on your side. Rest your right arm on the seat of the sofa, and place your left arm on the top of the sofa back. Bend your left leg, and place your foot on the seat of the sofa, and extend your right leg.” This pose placed Jackie in about the same position she was in when he started her sketch. It also enabled him to capture all of her outstanding body.

“Is this the way you draw all your nudes?”

François responded, “Each model is special. I try to capture that in all my drawings. No two women have the same body. That’s what makes drawing nude women so fascinating.”

It took him about an hour to complete the sketch of her body. When he finished, Jackie took the clothing she wore when they went cycling and got dressed.

“You are welcome to stay the night even if you insist on sleeping alone. You can use my bed, and I will sleep on the sofa,” he said.

“No, thanks. I told Barb I would be home tonight.”

They walked to his car and he drove Jackie home.

When they arrived at 12 rue Royal, she thanked him for a wonderful day and started to get out of the car.

“I will call you just as soon as I complete the details on your portrait,” François said. Walking her to the door, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Au revoir.”

“Au revoir,” she responded. He got back in his car as she went in her door. She watched as he drove away and thought, I cannot remember a better day in Paris!

Several weeks passed, and Jackie began to wonder if François would ever call her. Had she become just another portrait in his collection? As lifelike as his drawings were, it was as if he had taken a nude photograph of her. That reminded her of the nude pictures she had allowed her high school boyfriend Rick to take of her. She often wondered if he still had those pictures, or if some other guy was looking at them.

Rick and Jackie were an item in high school, especially during their senior year. Rick was a placekicker on the football team. He was a bit headstrong, but Jackie was able to keep control of their relationship. That was surely the case when it came to sex. Most of the time, she would allow Rick to go only so far. Generally, when they were out parking, she would allow him to slip his hand under her bra or take it off, giving him complete access to her breasts. During the entire time they were going together, Jackie only allowed Rick to go all the way a few times. It was during one such occasion, in Rick’s bedroom, that Jackie allowed him to take nude pictures of her using his father’s Polaroid camera. Rick and Jackie had a lot of fun together, but their relationship ended when Rick was admitted to Penn State and she chose Smith. Jackie hadn’t heard from Rick since the middle of their freshman year. At this point, the only thing that made her remember him were those nude pictures.

About a week later, the telephone rang. Barb answered, “Hello?”

“Bonjour. It’s François. Is Jackie there?”

“No. She’s out shopping for groceries.”

“Will you ask her to call me when she gets home?”

“Sure thing. Goodbye.”

Jackie returned carrying two bags of food. Barb greeted her at the door and said, “Who do you think called you?”

“François,” answered Jackie. “What did he say?”

“He wants you to call him.”

“He must have my picture finished.” Because they were very close and told each other everything, Jackie had told Barb about the nude portrait. “I can’t wait to see it,” Jackie remarked.

She put the two bags on the table and took the phone over to the sofa to call François. The phone rang seven times, and Jackie had decided he was out. Just as she was about to hang up, François answered, “Bonjour?”

“Hi. It’s Jackie. Barb said you called. How have you been?”

“Very busy. I secured a commission to draw some landmarks in Paris, which I just completed. How is school?”

“About like your art. I handed in two papers that I’ve been working on for over a month. Have you had a chance to finish my portrait?”

“Yes, I have,” answered François. “How about coming over Saturday to get it?”

“OK. What time?”

“How does two o’clock sound?”

“Great. I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”

“Au revoir,” he replied.

Jackie was on a high after her call.

“What did he say?” Barb asked.

“My portrait is finished. He wants me to come over on Saturday and pick it up. I don’t know if I can wait!”

Both girls were so excited they decided to get dinner at the café where Jackie first met François.

On Saturday morning, Jackie had some last-minute work to finish for school and tried to complete it before she had to leave for François’s. This proved to be an impossible task. All she could think about was her picture.

“Why does time seem to move so slowly when you want something?” Jackie asked.

“I know what you mean,” Barb replied. “There are other times when time seems to fly.”

Jackie chose to be a little dressier and wore a brown silk blouse and a knee-length tan skirt. She also wore a wide dark-brown belt that accented her figure. Jackie completed the outfit with leather sandals. About one thirty, she picked up her purse and said goodbye to Barb. It was raining lightly, and she decided to take a small umbrella along. As she stepped through the front door of her apartment, she opened the umbrella and began to walk toward the Métro.

It was just after two when she arrived at François’s flat. He was looking for her out of his third-floor window. He wondered if she really knew the Métro stops as well as she said she did. Apparently, she had mastered the subway. He came down the stairs and greeted her at the front door. “You found it,” he said.

“Didn’t you think I would be able to find you?”

“Well, I was not sure,” François admitted. He was glad to see her, and it seemed Jackie couldn’t get up to the apartment fast enough. In fact, she was so excited she ran up the stairs with her umbrella still up. “Do you think it is raining in here?” François wanted to know.

Jackie waited in the living room while François got her portrait. He hadn’t mounted it because he thought it would be easier for her to take rolled up. He handed her the picture, and she saw he had done it in color. She took one look at his work and said, “Oh my God! I have never seen anything so beautiful!” There was little doubt this would leave most people speechless. The drawing captured every detail of Jackie’s outstanding body, including her red hair and deep blue eyes. François had captured the faint freckles that began on Jackie’s face and continued down her chest, her breasts, and her stomach, to her shapely legs until they stopped short of her feet.

“What do you think?” François asked.

“I can’t believe it. It looks like I’m looking at myself in the mirror. In fact, it’s better than that,” she remarked.

“I take it you approve?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. At that moment, Jackie wondered where she would be able to hang it. What would she do with it after she left Paris? She knew explaining how this portrait came about would be difficult.

François could see that the experience of seeing her picture had begun to stir Jackie’s passion. Because she had fastened all but the top two buttons on her blouse, the telltale signs of redness were displayed on her neck and the upper portion of her chest. As was often the case, she was not wearing a bra. François came over to the sofa and sat on the floor aside of Jackie. She was intently looking at her portrait, which she had propped up against a stool. François, ever so lightly, brushed his finger across Jackie’s erect right breast. She made no attempt to restrain him and continued to peer at her likeness. He continued to caress her through the silk blouse, which produced a most sensuous feeling. He then turned to the left breast and rubbed the same way. Jackie looked down at him and said, “It looks like you know how to do more than just draw.” He caressed the nape of her neck and began to kiss her. By this time, Jackie was becoming more than a little aroused. She returned his kisses and thrust her tongue into his open mouth. He responded in kind, and it was clear he was an experienced lover. In fact, François had made love to many young women and had far more experience than one would have expected of a man at twenty-nine years of age.

François was a lover who understood that men became aroused and moved to orgasm much faster than women. He was the type of lover that took the time to bring his partner along, He gently unbuttoned Jackie’s blouse to reveal her breasts. It was all he could do when he drew Jackie’s picture not to make love to her. By this time, Jackie decided to get involved, and it wasn’t long before they were lost in giving each other the utmost pleasure. Jackie reached a level of satisfaction that night that was much better than any previous sexual encounter she had experienced. It was as if her previous lovers had been amateurs, and for the first time she made love with a man who knew what a woman wanted.

After they finished, they lay on the bed. Jackie pretended she had never used the bidet and asked François if he would show her how it worked. They went into the bathroom, and he proceeded to show Jackie how to operate it. She mounted it and began allowing the water to reach her innermost parts. Standing next to Jackie as he watched her on the bidet, François again became aroused. What followed was another explosion of passion that would remain in Jackie’s memory for a long time.

After they finished making love, they got dressed and François drove Jackie back to her apartment with her portrait. Jackie had other lovers while in Paris, but none was the equal of François. She continued to see him until she left Paris at the end of the summer. Jackie learned a lot about herself that year. She got a great art education and learned what she wanted from sex. This experience would influence all her future relationships and prove to be one of the best times of her life.