For 3rd night in a row I and my colleague, Sean visited the gay bars in the neighborhood of Marais, the gayborhood of Paris. Experience says, “One can be loveless in life, but not loveless in Paris.” Does the city have the power to brew the biology, chemistry, and physics of love between two strangers and turn them into lovers for the night?
Dim lights, loud music, fumes from tobacco, ice-filled glasses of alcohol can make the bar feel smoky and cold. And what added to the coldness were the stares when you don’t speak French and you don’t look French. How does it feel to be Les Untouchable in the City of Love?
I entered the bar and amongst so many others, I found an attractive, non-French seated with his friends near the bar counter. A bright smile on his face lit the room and set my heart on lust. I was hesitant to make the first move since he was surrounded by his friends. And moreover, I didn’t know if the guy besides him was his boy friend. I definitely didn’t want leave the bar with a brawl and bloody nose.
While Sean exchanged pleasantries with Carlos he noticed my roving eyes and restated the ground-rules. I had the freedom to go around and meet people without being tethered to him, but I was responsible for my safety.
We picked our drinks and moved to the dance floor below. In a few minutes the gang from the bar above descended downstairs. And there was Carlos leaning on the wall across from me with a drink in his hand. We just exchanged smiles, but neither of us had the guts to lock lips and hands in the city of love. Does the city have power to bring us in each other’s arms from just being at an arm’s length?
Did he catch me flirting with the bar tender? Carlos and his friends left the dance floor and it wore a deserted look. Sean and I headed back to the floor above, while Carlos and his friends were back at the same seat.
I couldn’t hold back myself for another minute. I put my smile out before my hand and Carlos got off his seat and walked towards me. Within minutes the cold bar turned warm and people around me turned invisible. And before I knew my right hand was in the back pocket of his denim playing with his cute bubble ass and my left hand slowly going for his crotch. I wanted to run my fingers through the well conditioned hair, hold his face between my palms and look at his radiant full-moon face all night.
Embarrassed by my lust, Sean vanished giving us our space and privacy. The sparkle in Carlos’s eyes, the emotions behind the words that came from his tender lips, the honesty he wore in his sleeves and immediately made me ask if I could take him home for the night. I said to him, “I am fine even if we don’t have sex, but come with me tonight, just come with me and I will fill all your vacant fingers with as many rings as want.” What was the city doing to a loveless orphan that night?
Carlos seemed to enjoy me nibbling his lips from time to time. I put forward the idea of spending the night at his place and Carlos welcomed the idea without a second thought. Within minutes we got out of the bar and pout our hand out for a taxi.
As the taxi speeded through the 15th and 7th we discussed about his job and family and when the Eiffel Tower passed by we locked our hands tightly and we locked our eyes and lips passionately. Is it Paris or Eiffel that releases your pheromones?
Soon we were on the lying down on the carpet on his wooden floor embracing each other passionately. We didn’t find the need to spend time to discover or understand our wants and need. And everything seemed so programmed and passionate, but not monotonous. The act was passionate, touch was gentle, and was very emotional. Our Eiffel Towers were now horizontal and needed some refills. I felt his “juice” slowly drip over my left hip and while his lungs were pumping out spent air between my shoulder and ear. He even fell asleep on me for a few minutes, while my arms were tightly wrapped around his body like the ribbons on the Christmas gift.
That night our naked bodies were intertwined like strands of DNA, does that differentiate the chemistry of love from chemistry of lust? At around 6 am, he jumped on me for another serving. The final cuddle lasted 15 minutes after the alarm went-off. I filled him in my arms and kissed him like new born treasure before we jumped into the shower. We soaped each other like playmates, with care and affection and we complained about each other snoring like couples from a long-time. I picked-up clothes for him to wear from his closet, and then we stepped on to his balcony to watch Eiffel Tower together.
It was getting close to 9 am and I put forward the idea of having a quick breakfast at the nearby restaurant, while he wanted to make me breakfast at home. While we sipped the espresso, we asked why our paths crossed and if it will cross again?
The magical and momentary 12 hour felt like a fairy tale. We walked out of his house and took a few photographs to capture our togetherness in the city of love. He got me a ticket and put me on the Metro to work. But before then he sealed the 12 hour relationship with a kiss on my lips. On the way back to work, I realized the city had lost its romance without Carlos.
Isn’t life all about moments and memories? Carlos came along to fill some empty pages in my life. Neither of us dreamt to experience such nice evening, followed by an intimate, respectful and devoid of drama. For sure no one can be a loveless orphan in Paris.
Thank-you Paris!
