Chapter 73: «Cours de Français»

January 2, 1989, Columbus, Ohio

"You are very powerful, but also gentle," Kris said as we cuddled after a pair of very energetic rounds of sex.

"And I've learned more about your body, too," I replied.

"You mean stopping halfway through each time to use your mouth? And then after?"

"Yes. You need direct clitoral stimulation to have an orgasm," I replied. "So either grinding against you, or using my mouth, or you using your fingers. That's actually fairly common. Perhaps with experimentation and enough practice, I can find the right technique for you to have an orgasm solely from intercourse."

"And it would take constant practice, «non»?" Kris asked with an inviting smile, her tone clearly communicating her desire.

"But of course!" I replied.

"After what we just did twice, I can safely say I preferred how we did it the first two times."

"Me, too."

"And when you used your mouth!"

"Again, me, too!"

"How long before we can go again?" Kris asked.

"Probably fifteen to twenty minutes," I replied.

"And with extra encouragement, will «le jeune homme» stand at attention sooner?"

"It certainly helps, but physiology is in control. The thing is, nobody knows for sure what the exact mechanism is. It changes, too, as the man gets older. For teenage males, it can be as short as five minutes, though fifteen is more common. By age seventy, it can be hours, or even longer."

"NOW you tell me!" Kris said playfully.

"There is no refractory period for my tongue and fingers!"

"Women do not appear to have that problem!" Kris teased.

"Call it a trade for having to carry babies then labor to deliver them."

"Only a man would think that way!" Kris said with a soft laugh.

"I am a man, in case you haven't noticed."

"I have!" Kris declared, snuggling even closer. "May I be serious for a moment?"

"Yes."

"This «joie de vivre» you're demonstrating now should be the norm. Too often you become very serious and even «morose». 'Monk Michael' needs to stay within the walls of the temple or the monastery, where he properly belongs. Do you know the term «jouissance»?"

"No," I replied.

"It means, literally, 'enjoyment', but carries more meaning. It is pleasure which combines mental, physical and spiritual aspects, and is in some ways mystical. I expect you do not know Hélène Cixous?"

"No."

"She's a French feminist author who developed a theory about women called «écriture féminine», or feminine writing. She says that women must write about women for women because their sexual pleasure has been repressed and denied expression. She believed women were repressed in the field of writing much as you've said they're repressed in medicine, and mostly it's because men are afraid of female sexuality, of «jouissance». You do not appear to be, otherwise I would never have married you. Now, simply apply your thinking about women expressing themselves in a positive way and apply it to yourself."

"There are times I do have to be serious."

"Yes, of course, but you set 'serious' in opposition to «joie de vivre». They do not have to be opposite, except in some weird male-centered fantasy world which is perpetuated by capitalistic machinery!"

I laughed, "I knew at some point the latent socialist would emerge!"

"Yes, and it was socialists who began the first serious campaign to end discrimination against women and to work to bring an end to male-centered society! As early as 1909, American socialists in New York celebrated what they called National Woman's Day, arguing for equality. That developed almost immediately into International Woman's Day, which led to feminist protests in 1917 in what was then called Petrograd. Those were the very first protests of the February socialist revolution, which was later corrupted by Lenin and his henchman in the October Revolution."

"I wasn't aware of the tie to New York," I replied.

"You Americans hide your socialist past, or downplay it, because the capitalist interests control everything, including how women view their own bodies and how women derive sexual pleasure. You admit as much, when you say the institutions created to train doctors and nurses are expressly sexist, even misogynist!"

"Being naked, in bed, with a sexy French blonde is not the place I'd have expected to receive a lecture on world socialism!"

Kris laughed, "It's not about that, you «cornichon»! It's about being free to express ourselves, and to live our lives according to the principles of «joie de vivre»!"

"What does «cornichon» mean?" I asked.

"In Russian, it would be «глупец»."

I chuckled, "Blockhead or nincompoop."

"Yes!"

"You aren't the first one to call me that!"

"Clarissa?"

"Among others," I chuckled. "Usually in similar contexts when they were trying to convince me to change my attitude towards something. Can we put this conversation on hold so I may sample your 'juice-sauce'?"

"«Jouissance»," Kris said with a soft laugh. "And that is the attitude I wish you to have all the time! As you are my husband, yes, you may!"

I spent a good amount of time exploring Kris' body with my lips and tongue, ignoring the obvious end of my refractory period for a time, then moving to sit cross-legged so that Kris and I could make love in what was certain to be our usual way, with her sitting in my lap, her arms and legs wrapped around me, and her head resting on my shoulder.

"We should have lunch," I said when our lovemaking concluded.

"I'm full right now!" Kris exclaimed happily.

"I was thinking more about your stomach than your «minou»!'"

"Of course you were!" Kris said, lifting off me. "A liquid diet, perhaps?"

She pushed me back, then began kissing me, much as I had her, culminating in me 'filling' her stomach in a way that satisfied a very different hunger.

"Interested in eating now?" Kris asked.

"Yes."

"Me?"

I laughed, "It's called that in French as well?"

"It is. Proceed, please!"

"As a couple?" I asked. "Simultaneous?"

"Yes!" Kris exclaimed with obvious desire.

After a lengthy sixty-nine session, extended because it took nearly twenty minutes before I was hard again, we finally called for room service to bring us lunch. We showered, then put on our happi, and sat cuddled on the couch waiting for the waiter to bring our food, which arrived about ten minutes after we finished in the shower.

"You're not upset with me for guiding you, are you?" Kris asked after we began eating.

"You mean about my attitude?"

"Yes, of course! You seem to have figured out how to please me without direction!"

"I did, though you should tell me when you want me to do something, as you did when you asked me to put my fingers in you, because it's not always obvious. And no, I'm not upset or bothered. You're saying things similar to what Clarissa has said in the past, and which I'd mostly achieved before Elizaveta reposed."

"And it's understandable you would mourn, and you should, but it's possible for that to overwhelm you and cause you to be «morose» in every area of your life."

"You're awfully smart for a High School Senior!"

"France actually believes in proper education, unlike here! I know many French High School students who are better educated than American university students! That's especially true with regard to philosophy, history, and culture."

"Present company included?" I asked.

"In certain areas! You admitted not knowing much about France from the time of Napoleon until now, with only brief mentions with regard to the World Wars. I suspect you know very little about «La Résistance» during the war with the Nazis."

"You suspect correctly. Do you feel completing High School in the US has been a detriment?"

"It certainly isn't furthering any knowledge other than about the American government, which is a complete mess, in my opinion. Everything else is basically a repeat of things I had already learned."

"And French government is the picture of order?" I asked.

"Compared to here? Yes! Here, the laws vary from city to city and state to state, often in incomprehensible ways! You even said the national government cannot make uniform traffic laws and uniform drinking laws! That's a recipe for chaos!"

"Federalism is intended to allow people to govern themselves, and not be ruled by a small group of people in Washington, DC. It's failed, miserably, in that regard. But now I've let you drag me into politics! Again!"

"Political philosophy, not politics," Kris countered. "They are different."

"And are both things on which I prefer not to focus my limited time outside of medicine and my family."

"You work for a government hospital, «mon sucre d'orge»! You have no choice!"

"Do I even want to know what that French phrase means?"

"My candy cane!" Kris said with a twinkle in her eye. "I could have said «mon saucisson», which is 'my sausage' or «mon plaisir quotidien», which is 'my daily pleasure'."

"It's all about sex, then?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Today, at least! Well, until we join Chloé and Pierre for dinner! But then after, too!"

"And the rest of the week?"

"I will not object to «mon plaisir quotidien», especially if it's multiple times per day!"

I laughed, then asked, "And next week?"

"Our regular life together begins. Neither of us knows what that will be like for sure, because someone other than you creates your schedule, and you must conform to it, with everything else taking a back seat. And we have a daughter to care for. But that will not mean no sex; just not anything like this week. Speaking of Rachel, how do you think she'll do away from you for a week?"

"If I know my mom and my grandmother, Rachel will be spoiled rotten by the end of the week! And she'll spend time with her cousins, as well as her friend Larisa Nicole. I expect one of two attitudes — ignoring me because she feels I abandoned her, or clinging because she feels I abandoned her."

"Abandoned?"

"She's not old enough to understand the concept of time except as it relates to being hungry or sleeping, and she certainly doesn't understand Daddy and Mommy needing a week alone together to have sex!"

"And that's all?" Kris asked with an arched eyebrow.

"That is the point of this week! Yes, it's to get to know each other, but we could have done that with Rachel with us. And YOU made that point earlier!"

"I did!" Kris exclaimed. "I do have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"What happens when the circumstances arise where the only time together is during my period?"

"Whatever you want to happen! I have no fear of menstrual blood!"

"One of my friends, not Chloé, said she has really strong desire at that time, but her boyfriend is unwilling."

"I'd say that's not uncommon," I replied. "It can be messy, though."

"As if what we've done has not made a mess on the sheets or on the towel!"

I chuckled, "Good point."

"I'm actually not surprised, given you had no qualms kissing me after I've given you a blowjob, or putting your tongue in me after we've made love."

"It was impressed on me, very early in my experience, that a guy who wanted a girl to take him in her mouth, let him cum, and then swallow, she would be more likely to do it if he would kiss her afterwards."

"So it's mercenary?" Kris asked with a smirk.

"No, it's a way of showing appreciation. It's also the case you didn't flinch when I kissed you after having my tongue in you, nor did you object to sucking me after I was inside you."

"Remember what I said? My body belongs to you, and is for your comfort and pleasure, just as yours belongs to me, and is for my comfort and pleasure. It's not as if either tastes bad. You agree, «non»?"

"I agree, though the taste of mine is diluted by your saliva or your lubrication."

"Then you should taste it without dilution!" Kris teased.

"I have," I replied. "Either because a girl chose not to swallow before French kissing, or because I licked it from her body."

"OK, now you've finally mentioned something I have not heard of!"

"Something which generally requires larger breasts," I replied. "Not that yours aren't lovely and perfect, but it wouldn't be possible to push them together to slide between them."

"And have your orgasm outside her body?"

"Yes, and then, at her request, licking the semen from her nose, lips, chin, throat, and chest."

"Is that something you liked?"

"Which part? Sliding between her breasts? Yes. Licking my semen was something the girl wanted, and it gave her pleasure, so I did it."

"Actually, I'm curious to see what actually happens! Every time you've had «la petite mort», it's been inside me!"

"If you want to see, we can do that after lunch."

"I do!" Kris exclaimed.

We finished eating, then went to the bedroom where Kris brought me off using her mouth and hands, though she used only her hands once I was close. After I'd cum, she licked the pools of cum from my chest and stomach, then French kissed me with my cum on her lips and without having swallowed.

"That was more exciting than I expected it to be," Kris declared as we cuddled afterwards.

"Would you like me to pleasure you?" I asked.

"Let's just snuggle, «mon nounours»!"

"You're teasing me with all the French, aren't you?"

"It is the language of love! It is not my fault you don't speak it!"

I chuckled, "I communicate without words!"

"And quite well! What I said means 'teddy bear'."

"And what would I call you?" I asked.

"I don't think you could use the one I would prefer," Kris said.

"What's that?"

"«Mon p'tit chaton»," she replied. "It means my little kitty."

"No," I said evenly, "I couldn't."

"Lara and Clarissa both warned me about that nickname for Elizaveta. I wasn't going to bring it up, but you asked..."

"It's OK," I replied, squeezing her firm butt cheek with my hand.

"If you want..." she said teasingly.

"I want to cuddle," I replied.

"I didn't mean to make you sad."

"You didn't," I soothed, squeezing her butt again.

"I'd be OK with «Зайчик»," she said. "That sounds better than 'bunny' or «lapin», and «lapin» is usually used by girls for their guy, though it's not wrong to say it to a girl."

"Do we need pet names?" I asked.

"Need? No. But such terms of endearment are nice to use."

"How about 'frog'?" I teased.

Kris smacked my shoulder with her free hand and exclaimed, "That's rude!"

"I meant it in a loving and endearing way! I mean, Burt Reynolds used it for Sally Field in Smokey and the Bandit!"

"The movie about illegal transportation of beer? And the sports car?"

"Yes."

"Such stupid laws!"

I chuckled, "I'm fairly certain it's not illegal to ship beer across state lines, given we get Coors, Busch, Budweiser, and European beers here in Ohio, not just beers from Christian Moerlein and Hudepohl!"

"You may NOT call me 'frog'!" Kris declared.

"I'll need to go to the library to research slurs for French people! I know them for Italians and Germans!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Kris ordered, as her hand slid down to cup my sack.

"Purely for educational purposes, I assure you!"

Kris squeezed gently, "And this will remind you that I am educated in male anatomy!"

I laughed, "Or at least with the term 'have them by the balls'!"

"Chloé said it's quite effective!"

"Are you sure she's not Russian?"

Kris laughed, "We're both French!"

"There's something I wanted to ask you, and this is mere curiosity, not an attempt to change your behavior, but you don't shave?"

"You mean my legs and under my arms? Most girls in Europe don't do that, even the ones who shave their 'little kitten'. I found it odd that every single girl I know here does, but that's an American thing. It doesn't bother you?"

"No, it doesn't; it's just different from my experience."

"And the other hair? Do you prefer girls with or without?"

"I'm partial to it being neatly trimmed, but it's not a deterrent either way."

"As if a guy would turn it down!" Kris teased.

"I have refused," I replied. "I told you the story about my steady girlfriend in High School, but also I promised to tell you about the girl who gave me a handjob."

I related the story about Carol during the time between breaking up with April and getting together with Jocelyn, though I didn't use any names.

"You were that sensitive?" Kris asked. "That you refused to see her again because she laughed?"

"Yes, though it was a bit more complicated than that. Being completely naïve and inexperienced, I was somewhat afraid. I'll use this name because you know it already, but Jocelyn was afraid I was going to have either a heart attack or a panic attack before our first time. She was the picture of serenity and my heart was racing to the extent I was afraid Jocelyn was right."

"You survived!"

I chuckled, "I did, because Jocelyn led me step-by-step through the entire encounter after reading The Joy of Sex."

"A sex manual?"

"More or less, yes.

"Perhaps I should read that book!" Kris said lightly.

"I don't think you'll learn anything, and I don't think you'll be interested in some of the possibilities it suggests!"

Kris laughed softly, "There is no chance I am going to invite another woman to our bed!"

"Darn," I chuckled.

"You told me you didn't have any desire for that!"

"I did. It also discussed bondage and giving and receiving pain, none of which interests me."

"Nor me," Kris agreed. "But we do have to get chocolate sauce and whipped cream!"

"And maraschino cherries!"

"Perhaps when we're on our way back to the hotel from the Japanese restaurant? Then we can have dessert!"

"That sounds like a great idea."

We stayed in bed, mostly cuddling, but occasionally kissing, until it was time to shower so we could meet Pierre and Chloé for dinner.

"You two finally got out of bed?" Chloé exclaimed when she and Kris greeted each other with a hug.

"We do have to eat!" Kris declared.