+18 years

With Consent! 152 !

Consent and Pleasure ! Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

Haha why do I have to specify? Well, let’s be honest, if it’s obvious to me that every man I slept with was willing… I never asked them head-on…

When it comes to stolen kisses, I admit, I’m not completely white. We rarely ask permission when we steal something after all… And then, a look is a way to ask permission, isn’t it?

Anyway, the story I’m about to tell you won’t wash away all my sins, but …

A petanque that goes wild

It’s been a week since my little adventure at the Canal Prairie got my mojo going again. It’s there, it’s present, and it doesn’t seem to want to go away !

So when I join my few girlfriends and the boyfriend of one of them to play a game of pétanque on the canal, I have an idea behind the head.

The drinks and the games follow one another, our voices soon cover the music of our little speaker. The passers-by look at us sometimes embarrassed, but most of the time amused.

I feel good, alive, happy, it misses only a small man to put me under the tooth to finish filling my evening.

The quays (Paris beach obliges) close their grids, we take again a glass in the bar of near. The same one where some tens of minutes earlier a thirty-year-old invited us to join him. And the eyes of the thirty-year-old seemed, them, to shout their consent.

Unfortunately, no trace of his pupils in the crowd of the bar. Too bad.

The bar also closes in its turn. We are all hot to go out. Let’s go to the Bellevilloise !

Eye contacts in chain

Finally arrived in the queue for the Bellevilloise, after having watered the eardrums of our Uber driver of hits of the years 2000, I scan the queue.

A few steps behind us, I spot him. His eyes are squinted, he looks a little sleepy. But he gives off a kindness and sensuality that I can’t describe. I take my eyes off him, and the people between us block my view.

Impossible to exercise my killer look. Too bad.

On the other hand, once in the box, I cross several glances. There is no doubt, my mojo is back, they turn around, stare at me too.

Tonight, it is sure, I would not return empty-handed.

Sweet Smoking Area

One of the nice things about La Bellevilloise is the outdoor smoking room on the terrace.

I only smoke occasionally, but my friends couldn’t do without it. And let’s face it, it’s also a place to give our eardrums a break, and to chat with strangers…

While I too am having a cigarette, I turn around and I see him. His eyes scan the space, he has this little lost air that I liked a lot in one of my exes.

Don’t jump on him Mylene, be gentle. Gentle, we said. My eyes seek his. Come on, raise your head my darling…

Contact validated, I repeat contact validated. His look is soft and questioning. I smile at him, he approaches.

I could have had a dozen others, he’s not the most beautiful, he’s definitely not the biggest, and yet, I know that he’s the one I want to bring back to my den.

Pheromones VS Consent

I start the discussion. Don’t ask me what we tell each other, I have no memory of party conversations.

Tell me you’re a secret agent, the next day I won’t remember. It’s already a miracle when I remember first names, so…

Anyway, we’re here, chatting, without interruption. He crosses his buddy, who lets us chat. I believe that he saw clearly in my game. Whereas our little Rémy (yes this time, I have his first name!) him seems to see only fire there.

I can tell you that I put my pupils, my iris, and all my pheromones, but nothing makes it. It’s impossible to know if he wants to taste my lips too.

He seems to really enjoy the conversation, and doesn’t seem to guess for a second my intentions. Maybe my attraction comes from there?

How many minutes do we spend talking? I have no idea. We laugh, we get excited, but I can’t help but want more.

I want his body against mine. My hunter’s gaze doesn’t seem to be working on him, so I take a chance.

“Can I kiss you?”.


He looks at me surprised. As if he had just understood what was going on between us, he answers me a “Yes” with his lips.

Lips on which mine are quickly placed. The first kiss is shy, then the bodies warm up, the hands grab the hips, the neck.

My instinct did not let me go once again. I wanted him, because the chemistry is immediate. The kiss is deep, full of that ardor of desire, the one that ignites in an instant your second brain.

We are there in the middle of the smoking room, people pass by us, and we do not take off. Our lips, our tongues discover each other, taste each other and nothing else matters around. We are alone, inhabited by an intense desire.

When we finally take off, his eyes dive into mine. We know.

Then the conversation starts again, as if nothing had happened. We oscillate between languorous kisses and light discussions. My friends tap me on the shoulder to recover their things left in my bag.

Don’t worry, you leave me in good hands.


The more the minutes of kissing him add up, the more the desire to bring him back home presses.

But little Remy doesn’t hear it that way. He feels guilty for having left his friend alone on the dance floor.

Hop, we both join him, with 3 pints of beer that we don’t need at all.

His buddy dances like a madman in front of the DJ, he doesn’t care about our friendly gesture. Well, then, can we go?

Nope, Remy starts to dance too. Come on, I join the movement. He makes me laugh, and my desire for him only increases.

He takes my hand and twirls me around. A little Despacito, and our bodies stick together again, our lips find each other. I feel his hard pelvis against mine.

This time, he also feels the urgency to find himself in intimacy.

On a bicycle…

We kiss like crazy on the track. “Shall we go home?”. He nods, and gets out of my grip to tell his buddy.

He is a nice guy, I knew it…

He goes to untie his bike. OK, it’s the first time I’m taking someone home by bike… I take a Velib, and off I go.

It’s silly, but at the time, I’m afraid he won’t follow me, that he’ll turn around and that the pretty bubble of desire I’m in will break.

But no, in a few minutes, we are in my stairwell kissing languidly.

In 4 floors, I’ll make your party little Remy.

Perfect chemistry

Yes, we are drunk. But nothing between us is awkward, the caresses are incredibly sensual, we devour each other, we lick each other.

The desire is the same on both sides, and we enjoy each other, again and again. There is neither beginning nor end, and it is the tiredness which ends up giving the blow of stop to our frolic.

I cuddle up to him and kiss his hand one last time before falling asleep.

In the morning, I tenderly caress his chest, I deposit kisses here and there. And I end up waking the beast. Our bodies find each other, the desire did not fly away during the night.

How good it is to feel as desired as to desire. The morning will soon come to an end, he will have to leave.

Last discussion and false hope

We continue to paw at each other for more than an hour and to discuss, probably about the same thing as the day before.

It is more than 1pm when he decides to go, I escort him to the door.

I would really like to see him again. With a shy voice, I ask him for his number.

He gives it to me, not without justifying himself, he is not hyper texting, not hyper available… If I understand well, I should not expect too much from this night.

However, he answers my first message. The second one will remain forever without answer.

Remy will join the long list of my one-night stands. Too bad, such an alchemy, I would have enjoyed it again.

But you won’t get my mojo going, so nexxxxxt!