Just Good Friends
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2014 by The Heartbreak Kid

Romantic Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Well, actually, for some people there are things more important than sex...

Caution: This Romantic Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Slow  

"Thank you very much!" Sarah said to the man who handed her the travel case. The train had just pulled into the Gard du Nord station and Sarah's heart was beating fast in anticipation of meeting up with her friend, Alan. They had been exchanging emails almost daily since he left London for an extended working holiday in France, but she missed seeing him in person and sensing his proximity when they were together. She loved her husband, Kevin, Alan's oldest friend, and she was very happy in her job; but Alan was such a big part of her life, that her contentment was never quite complete when she couldn't call him up to talk, or when she couldn't be with him in person, even though that was usually only two or three times a month at most.

Alan had become the man that both Sarah and Kevin turned to when they needed help or favours, and so far he had always come through and never let them down or disappointed. The last time that Sarah had been with Alan was just after she had recovered from a fairly minor, but nonetheless incapacitating injury to both hands, during which time—almost five weeks—Alan had spent at least twelve hours a day with her, doing all those necessary and sometimes very personal things that she couldn't do for herself. As she had said to Alan at the time: it was almost like having two part-time husbands! Sarah was a loving and loyal wife, but what she felt for Alan now went beyond mere friendship; which was why she had eagerly accepted her husband's offer to buy her a Eurostar ticket so that she could visit their mutual friend. It was not an entirely selfless gesture on Kevin's part, however: he had wanted to go on a lads-only long weekend with his friends, which included a friendly football match.

As she pulled her case along the platform, she saw the familiar fair-haired handsome man walking towards her and it was all she could do to stop herself from running to meet him. They never kissed passionately, but she held his head between her hands and kissed him lightly but tenderly, then she sighed.

"Hello! How was your journey, Sarah?"

"Mmm—not bad! There was a quite nice looking guy sitting near me, and I think he would have liked to talk, but he didn't— I think it was the wedding ring that put him off!" Alan smiled and the sun came out in Sarah's world.

"Should I be jealous?" Sarah laughed: "And are you?"

"Just a bit, I suppose." She laughed again and gripped his hand.

"Well, that's something new, Honey! But you don't need to worry—not including my dad, there are only two really impor­tant men in my life! So where are we staying, is it far from here?"

"No, it's not far. Montparnasse is only about four miles. It's my friend Sophie's place." Sarah squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

"So should I be the one who's jealous?"

"I don't think so. In fact I think you'd like her, but she's in America at the moment; that's why I've got her apartment while I'm here."

The taxi driver got out and put Sarah's case in the back of his cab. Sarah and Alan got into the back and Alan told him the address. Sarah had been in Paris once before with Alan, but that was a fairly brief stay and they were going somewhere entirely different now, so they just spoke quietly together as he pointed things out to her as the taxi drove towards and then across the River Seine.

Alan paid for the cab ride. They were standing outside one of many apartment blocks. Sarah took a few minutes to look around her: it was so different to where she and Kevin lived in London; obviously similar in some ways, but it just had a different kind of feeling about it; somehow more relaxed, was the only way that she could describe it to anyone who hadn't been there.

"Here, let me take that for you," Alan said, referring to her luggage. "Have you eaten yet? We'll take your things up then get something, if you like, there are lots of places around here."

"Okay, Honey! I had coffee and toast before I left this morning, and another coffee and some chocolate at St Pancras, but something else, now, would be nice!"

Sarah followed as he climbed the two flights of stairs. They stopped outside one of the doors, which Alan opened. The apartment appeared to be quite compact, but Sarah noted that there was lots of natural light and it appeared to be modern-looking and stylish, with white-painted walls and contemporary furniture. Yes, definitely a woman's home! Sarah thought. There were two bedrooms, but one was much smaller and served as an office; Alan carried her case through to the larger bedroom. "Oh, I do like this!" she exclaimed, not really for anyone's benefit.

Opening her case she pulled out the bundle of letters that had been sent to Alan's London home during the last week. Since he'd been in France Sarah had been collecting them and sending them on to him, but of course this week she could deliver them in person. She had also brought more clothes than she probably needed for a few days stay, and these she pulled out and left on the bed, to be put away later. While they were there, Alan gave her the quick tour of the apartment: which was basically the two bedrooms, the bathroom, a nice kitchen, and a living room. While in the bathroom Sarah had unselfconsciously taken a pee while Alan was there: unselfconsciously, because that was one of the things that Alan had had to help her with while her broken fingers were healing.


After a short walk, Sarah found herself outside a café, where they sat at one of the outside tables. The young waitress was obviously used to seeing Alan, because as well as taking their orders, she and Alan exchanged pleasantries: Sarah recognising Alan's utterance—'Mon ami de Londres'—among the otherwise unfamiliar words and phrases. Sarah only had basic, schoolgirl French, but ever since she had known that she was coming, she had tried to refresh her scant knowledge.

"Another 'friend', Honey?" Sarah asked him, smiling. He returned her smile.

"No, just another acquaintance. I have breakfast here most days and Simone is one of the regular waiters and waitresses that work here." Sarah smiled again.

"Only teasing, Sweetie! So, have you got much work done, with all these beautiful distractions?"

"—Hmm, not bad! I've introduced a new character into my new novel: a villainess by the name of Sarah; a beautiful young coquette, who steals men's hearts and then steals their money!" She laughed: "—Really?" Alan smiled.

"—No, not really—but it's not a bad idea: you may just have inspired me!" Sarah put her hand on Alan's.

"Don't worry, Baby, I'm not after you're money; I'll settle for a piece of your heart!"

"Well, you know you've already got that, Mrs Bishop." Just then Simone returned with their food and drink.

"I don't know if you know this," Alan said, "but where we are, here on the left bank of the Seine, has been notable for being the artistic and bohemian part of Paris. We are actually quite near the Cimetière du Montparnasse: the cemetery where writers and intellectuals like Baudelaire, Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Samuel Beckett, and most recently, Susan Sontag are buried. I don't know how you feel about cemeteries, but maybe we can walk there before you go back." Sarah smiled.

"Okay, Honey—but not today, eh! But I'd like to just walk around for a bit. Are we eating in or out tonight: I loved that bistro we ate in last time I was here. Is there anything like that we can go to, but I don't mind if we stay in."

"Yes, I'm sure we can find somewhere! But let's just sit here for a while and watch the world go by."


Sarah always felt quite relaxed when she and Kevin went on holiday, but this was a different kind of relaxed, somehow. There were smart little cafés in the up-market and more fashionable parts of London; but here they seemed to be everywhere, and apparently used by everyone. Sarah was an inveterate people-watcher and she could think of no better place to do so than the streets and boulevards of Paris; and the cherry on the icing on the cake, was that she could do it in the company of her gorgeous, sexy best friend!

They walked the streets, arm-in-arm, in a kind of leisurely, circuitous route that eventually led them back to Sophie Lafont's apartment block. Once inside Alan made some coffee while Sarah kicked off her shoes then went to the bathroom. The kitchen was well-appointed, but quite compact, so they took their drinks back to the living room. Sarah took a good look around for the first time. There were lots of books: most with French titles, but a good few in English; some of which she had even read herself. There were also some very artistic, framed, black and white photographs hanging on the walls, and some in free-standing frames on top of a kind of sideboard. Sarah picked up one of these: two very attractive brunettes, who were facing towards the camera and smiling.

"Sophie is on the left, with the slightly shorter hair; the other woman is Lili, her girlfriend. I know Lili quite well, from when I was living here before, and when I first arrived this time, Sophie slept at her place until they left for the States."

"I didn't realise—but they are both very lovely! I suppose I assumed Sophie was an old girlfriend of yours."

When they'd finished their coffees, Sarah stood up and held out her hand.

"I've been very patient, Honey, but I'm in serious need of a nice cuddle right now. We've still got several hours before we have to think about eating again."

Back in the bedroom, Alan showed her where he was keeping his clothes; he had made room in the same drawers for her things, which Sarah had left on the bed. She left out one of those belly shirts: like a T-shirt that finished mid-way between her boobs and belly button. Her travel shirt and jeans were removed, along with her bra. She then pulled the short shirt over her head and hopped up onto the bed and laid down, looking up at Alan. He stripped down to his boxer shorts and joined her. Sarah quickly shuffled across and onto his outstretched arm and snuggled up against him; rolling over until she was pressed into his side, with her arm over his chest and her left leg resting between his. Alan then folded his free arm over her. Sarah sighed, contentedly: "Yes, this was definitely worth the wait," she said, softly.


While they were snuggled together: not lovers, just affectionate friends, neither were really tired, so Sarah said:

"You've never told me how you came to be living in France, Babe. I know you've got a degree in English and French, so there's an obvious connection, but I'd still like to know about that period of your life, which after all isn't that long ago."

"Okay, if you're really interested. I suppose it all goes back to when I was at school. Like you, I started learning French in Year 7. I'd never been to France and as far as I know none of my family knew any French, but I had a very good teacher at school and I suppose a natural aptitude for it and I seemed to pick it up quite quickly. Well, at that age I had no thoughts about what I would be doing in the future and I just took things as they came, but I wanted to do well in this second language, so I spent more time on it than was actually necessary; reading and watching films, that sort of thing.

"I remember you telling me that you dropped French when it came to GCSE's, but I chose to continue and by the time I was sixteen, I was quite fluent in it. I'd also spent a few camping holidays in France with my mum and dad. This was before Kevin and me and the rest of our mates started doing the sun, sea, and sex, 'lads abroad' bit. So, moving the story on, I had decided that it was also going to be one of my A-level subjects, with English, History, and Psychology—I was never a fan of the sciences.

"Well, two more years go by and I'd applied to uni to do English and French and I got the grades I needed to get into King's College, London, on a four year BA course with a year abroad. I suppose it's that year that's most significant. I was fortunate enough to spend my overseas year at the Sorbonne, here in Paris, which is where I first met Sophie. She is a native Parisienne and we hung out in the same group of students. Her English is as good as my French and she was kind of my mentor: she told me almost straight away that she was gay, but it was never a problem. The whole point of spending that time abroad is so that a person can immerse themselves in that country's culture, which you can never really do just by sitting in a classroom."

"Can you hold on for a minute or two, Honey, while I go for a pee!" Sarah said. She jumped off the bed and scampered to the bathroom. When she returned she was wearing just her little shirt. She leaned across and started to work Alan's boxers down over his hips. He looked at her, questioningly, but still raised his hips off the bed. Sarah then jumped back on the bed and resumed her former position. "Right, you can carry on now, Babe!"

"—Yes, well after that year I returned to London for my final year at uni. It was quite strange moving back in with mum and dad again, but things soon got back to normal, as they do. I've always enjoyed writing, too, and I started sending things off to magazines while I was at college and some of them were used, so I was encouraged enough to think that I might be able to eventually make a living doing it.

"My degree finished and I got a First, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to try for a higher degree, so I just looked for ways to earn some money while I wrote. Like I told you before, I'd worked in the Student Union bar at uni, and there's always work in pubs and clubs, which is what I did until the opportunity came up to work in France. I had stayed in touch with Sophie and a few other people, but mainly Sophie, and she told me that her uncle was looking for someone in his publishing company and she'd told him about me and he was interested, so I took a week off work and came over to see him. Sophie was with Lili by that time, so I stayed here.

"Anyway, I was offered the job and moved here in 2007 and I stayed until a few months before I met up with Kevin again, and you for the first time. I don't think you'd even met him when I left England, and being over here was why I couldn't come to your wedding. But getting back to what you asked me. I found an apartment in another part of Paris—not as nice as here, but nearer to where I was working. Life was pretty good: I had a job I enjoyed, friends I saw quite often, and a good social life—yes, and before you ask, I had a sex life, too! Working for Sophie's uncle, I was making lots of literary contacts and I was still able to write for the English magazines as I had before. I suppose you're wondering, now, so why did I decide to come home after nearly four years." Sarah chuckled and kissed Alan's cheek.

"—Well, I'm probably more interested in hearing about this sex life you claim to have had, but, yes, of course I'm interested in why you came back; I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't, would I!" Alan gave her a little squeeze.

"Maybe I'll tell you about my sex life another time, but for now you get the other stuff.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I came back! Like I said, it all seemed to be going well over here, but I suppose I had started to put my life into perspective and re-evaluate those things I took for granted. I missed my family and friends, and even the British weather! Most of my old mates, like Kevin, had settled down with wives and even kids, so I knew that it wasn't going to be the same as before, but I thought that I was ready for another change. Maybe I'm just not the settling down kind and in a few years I'll be off somewhere else, but I'm happy at the moment with what I've got." He could feel Sarah's body shift slightly and he could hear her sigh.

"Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I can't image what life would be like if I couldn't see you because you were hundreds or thousands of miles away, Alan!"

"Perhaps—but didn't you tell me when we first got to know each other that you and Kevin would be starting a family in a few years time; that will keep you busy, and believe me, you're priorities and your feelings will change, too. It's just a natural part of life: no one stays the same." Sarah sighed again.

"But that's still a few years away yet, Honey—as you say, we'll deal with the changes when they happen; but for now I've got my cuddle buddy here with me."


They were happy and comfortable lying on Sophie's bed together, but the sun was slowly setting and they became aware that if they were going out again, it was probably time to get showered and dressed. Sarah suddenly rolled over and straddled Alan's stomach.

"Are you up for a little game, Honey?"

"What sort of game?" He knew Sarah's thought processes too well to just accept without knowing what she had in mind first.

"Don't be so suspicious: I promise you it's nothing we haven't done before; let's just say that it's not really a game, it's more about my fantasies. And I promise you it won't compromise those principles of yours—so yes or no: if you say no, I'll forget I ever mentioned it." Alan sighed. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Sarah and she knew full-well what those things were.

"Oh, go on, then—I just hope I'm not going to regret this!" Sarah laughed, dismounted, and pulled him up from the bed.

"I'm going to need your help getting ready, Babe."

She went to her handbag and Alan watched as she took out several pieces of that elasticated, tube bandage that people put over parts of their arms and legs, when they have sprains, etc. He caught on to what she was doing as soon as the first piece was pulled over the middle three fingers of her left hand. "I need you to do the right one," she said, handing another short length to Alan. She smiled sweetly. "Indulge me, please!"

He smiled as he worked the stretchy fabric over the same three fingers on her right hand. "I suppose you've got the bags and the ribbons as well?"

"But of course! They're in my bag," she said, grinning.

Alan retrieved the two clear, plastic sandwich bags and the two lengths of ribbon: while Sarah's hands had really been injured and bandaged, twice a day Alan had placed similar ones over her hands to stop them getting wet while she was in the shower or the bath. And it was at these times that Alan had been her proxy hands while she was in there. For almost five weeks the morning showers and afternoon baths were the highlight of Sarah's day, as he washed those parts of her body that were otherwise off-limits to him, as he considered it to be 'crossing the line' of friendship and trust between friends. But when done out of necessity, Sarah loved it and Alan knew that she always became sexually aroused, not only during the act of washing, but also as she anticipated what was about to happen. They both knew it, and they both accepted it as inevitable; but although Sarah may have wished for more, Alan never gave in to her unspoken desires. Maybe that was why the bond between them was now so strong, and why they did and said things to each other that mere friends just never do or say.

 
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