1. French Kiss


    Date: 3/14/2017, Categories: Anal, Author: Saucymh, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    “Then go fuck yourself!” I yelled as I stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door. I was fuming. How dare Matt accuse me of “dragging him away on holiday”? I’d done no such thing. Our holiday in France was supposed to be fun for both of us. Huh! Not likely! Matt had done nothing but complain; he didn’t like the food, the beer was too expensive, he couldn’t get a Wi-Fi connection. Whinge, whinge, whinge! I’d had enough. The holiday had cost me an arm and a leg and I was buggered if I was going to sit around with that moaning arsehole anymore. I wanted to enjoy myself. As far as I was concerned my relationship with Matt was over, finished. The holiday, however, wasn’t. There was still plenty of time for me to go out and find some excitement. I stalked off towards the bar half expecting to see my suitcase and belongings come flying along the hallway behind me but nothing so dramatic happened. All was silent. I hesitated, wondering if Matt would come after me. He didn’t of course. Matt was as sick of our relationship as I was so why would he stop me leaving? My partner, Matt, and I had been together for five years but the spark had died after two. We should have ended it then but neither of us had the guts. The holiday in France was our last chance to salvage our relationship, make or break time. Sadly it was the latter. I swiped at the tears blurring my vision and marched resolutely down the hallway. I didn’t know where I was going but I had money in my pockets so I ...
    could stay out all night if I wanted to, go from bar to bar drowning my sorrows. Hell, I probably would. Getting a drink was certainly a priority after the day I’d had. Our apartment block had a restaurant on the first floor with a small bar attached. The bar stayed open most of the night and offered discounted drinks to residents of the apartments. The discount wasn’t much but the bar had a friendly atmosphere and the bar tenders were lovely. I’d got to know them quite well during the eight days I’d been staying there. My favourite bar tender was Jacques, a twenty-two year old French Canadian from Quebec who was working in France for the summer before embarking on a year out in Australia. Jacques was short and stocky, not my usual type at all, but was always cheerful and had the most endearing smile. Jacques had a habit of gazing at my ass and complementing me on my curvaceous figure whenever Matt was out of earshot. His highly personal comments had annoyed me at first but I’d grown to like them. My ass was great so why not accept the complement? And so Jacques open admiration for my derriere, however inappropriate, had become most welcome. As luck would have it Jacques was on duty that night. He smiled warmly as I marched up the bar but his expression changed as I got nearer. “Oh dear Lisa, another bust-up?” he enquired cautiously. I tried my best to smile. “Is it that obvious?” “I can see you’ve been crying, so yes,” he answered sympathetically. His big brown eyes searched ...
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