New Year 2011, New Resolutions....New Adventures!!!

As 2010 drew to an end I was delighted to be waving goodbye to a totally crap year. I was determined to make  2011 a good one though and I was well on my way: my heart had gone from broken into tiny pieces to only slightly fractured, work was going well and I had fantastic friends. Aaaand to top it all off I had been invited to a New Years party in a large suburban apartment that promised to be full of hot Frenchmen! Tim, who invited me, is a friend who had studied at my university for a semester and we got back in contact again after I moved to Paris. Although he is a very very fine specimen of a man there has never ever been anything between us but friendship...but that didn't mean that I couldn't engage in a little more than friendship with one of his nice, handsome friends that I knew would be at the party. As I got ready (what to wear?!) I pondered my New Years resolutions:

• NO MORE BRITISH BOYS!!!! - I was in the land of les frogs and the most beautiful men in the world. The time had come to take advantage of that. Lets never go back to boring old burgers when surrounded by amazing steak!!!
• GO TO THE GYM 3-4 TIMES PER WEEK - Don't we all make this resolution at some point in our lives? I actually (for the most part) managed to keep this resolution even though I tend to go 2-3 times these days rather than 3-4.
• CUT OUT CHEESE - This was never going to happen! My vices in life? Cheese, shopping and Frenchmen. None are all that good for the body, mind or wallet but are perfect for short-term happiness.
• CUT DOWN TO ONE BOTTLE OF WINE PER WEEK - Again, never.going.to.happen!
• START A BLOG  - Enough said.

So off I ventured to the party with a bottle of champagne in one hand and various alcohol/petite fours in the other. I was a little early and when I arrived I was greeted by several familiar faces including Oli. Oli was a guy that I had only met a couple of times before. The first time I had ever met him I garbled away in Franglais for about 10minutes before I gave up and asked 'Do you speak English?' only for him to answer 'Yes' in the clearest, most perfect Americanized accent I had ever heard on a Frenchman. Oli was very attractive guy but he totally knew it and was just that little bit too arrogant for my liking.  Also present was 'D' who, like Tim, had studied at my university for a semester. We had once shared a very drunken kiss or 3 and had never been allowed to forget it.

Soon the party was in full swing. I tried not to show too much delight at the fact that out of around 30 of us there were 4 girls (myself included) and the other girls all had boyfriends. I drank champagne, ate escargots, danced and flirted lots with the many handsome  men present. After midnight things did not die down and I was very very drunk. I made a trip to the bathroom (once you pop, you cant stop right?!?!) and upon exiting I was accosted by Oli who had been waiting outside. The next thing I knew he was kissing me and walking me towards one of the bedrooms. This was a guy who knew what he wanted and would use all his charm to get it...but as I said, although he is very handsome I just wasn't that into him. After some slight groping where he tried his best to get into my pants I used the old safety-net question of  'Do you have a condom?'. He didn't but unlike all my other Frenchman encounters he didn't see it as a problem and tried his best to convince me to have sex with him without one. Studying in the US had obviously taught that guy some bad habits! 

As we continued this horizontal dance (with clothes on) of him trying to have his wicked way and me (mostly) rejecting his advances one of the other guys from the party burst into the room waving Olis phone about. One the phone was someone who he called 'baby' and who was told that he had been sleeping. Yep, of course this guy had a girlfriend.  I thanked my lucky stars for my near miss and rolled over and went to sleep. In the morning I left Oli the cad sleeping in bed while I went to join everyone else in the cleanup process. I had to ward off a million questions and laughter about what had happened but I was too hungover to care.

The party was a success. Yes, Oli was a bit of a bastard but I still had an amazing night and later that day I was happier than ever that nothing had happened between Oli and I us due to to a very unexpected text message....

Until next time!

Julien - Part 2

After the first date with Julien we continued to text and chat on Facebook, often his texts made no sense to me and I'm sure he would say the same about my garbled French, or Franglais as I more realistically refer to it. He was still pulling the old trick of asking me out at 10/11pm but I figured it  was no big deal, I didn't  really like him enough to care.

That was until I discovered that C was to be in town that weekend and although I wouldn't be seeing him I knew that he would be meeting up with the bitch/skank/whore that he cheated on me with. (Oops, feminism just went right out the window there!) I weighed up my options: stay in and obsessively look on his Facebook and that of his friends to see if I could find any clue of his and the skanks whereabouts OR I could get myself dressed up and go on a date of my own. The latter of course won. I was happy if a little surprised when I text Julien and asked if he was free to discover that he was. I told him that I wanted to go dancing and we arranged that I would go to his place before heading to a club. 

I made a big effort that night, low cut but not slutty dress, sleek hair and perfected make-up, sexy matching underwear and to top it all of, stockings and suspenders!!!! If you’ve never worn stockings teamed with a suspender belt then you absolutely must! I mean, ok, it can be tricky to get them on and you may scream with frustration a few times but once they are on you will feel so sexy and confident that it is SO worth it. Whenever I wear them on a date it's 60% for me and 40% for the guy...in fact, I've even been known to wear them under my skirt at work but hey, no one in the office needs to know about that! ;) 

Anyway, Julien certainly seemed to appreciate the effort made too. As I walked through his front door we kissed and his wandering hands soon found my little surprise. "vraiment jolie…would you not rather stay in tonight?", I didn't but I appreciated the  compliment. We drank wine and listened to The XX while Julien got himself together. He explained to me that his bank card had a crack in it but that if I paid the taxi then he would buy our drinks. We hopped in a taxi to my 1st but certainly not last time to Bus Palladium. So this was where all the cool and beautiful French people hung out!!! Rather head straight for the main room we went upstairs to the restaurant/bar and sat on tall stools. Julien ordered a glass of champagne for each of us and we actually had a good time talking and laughing. (He thought it was super hilarious to put his champagne glass between my cleavage, I didn't think it was so hilarious.) We finished our drinks and went down to the dance floor and I have to admit that Julien was a great dancer. We went to get another drink and then...uh oh...his card was declined. Luckily it was payday so I stepped up and bought the drinks. (Not a huge deal anyway, I like to pay my own way and he had bought the 1st round.) Maybe at this point the alarm bells should have been ringing but I was having too much of a good time to notice them. 

Shoulda, woulda , coulda.

The next thing that happened DID send those bells ringing. Two girls that Julien knew came over to say hello and there was only what I could describe as a weird tension between the three of them, it was clear that he had sex with one of the girls if not both. They were both pleasant enough to me though and I didn't really think too much of it until a short while later. We were dancing and I was aware that Julien was continuously looking over my shoulder. Yes, he was trying to make someone jealous! I should have walked away then but I never, my mistake. Soon after that I started to be aware of someone deliberately pushing into me on the dancefloor, yep, the two girls who had pleasant to me earlier were both acting like stupid brats. Julien, of course, seemed to think that the whole thing was funny and in an attempt not to turn around and punch them both in the face (and him too!) I stormed to the bar and ordered myself another champagne, not before shouting at him though "THAT IS NOT FUCKING COOL, SORT IT OUT!!!" Again, I probably should have taken that opportunity to walk away but I was drunk and really like the club. When Julien went for what was probably his 80th cigarette a guy with a massive camera came over and asked if he could take my photo for his  website, I awkwardly agreed, I don't really like being in those situations but hey, I liked the ego boost and it did wonders for my bad mood.

Julien was turning out to be a total dickhead but it didn't stop me from going home with him. Nor did it stop me from getting naked with him and bumping uglies. I was surprised to find that what he lacked in height he more than made up for in the trouser department however, I wasn't surprised to find that he was a very selfish lover. And I absolutely wasn’t surprised to find the ever present stash of condoms by his bed.

In the morning I reflected on what I had gained from meeting Julien: a larger than expected dent in my bank balance, a scene in a club which saw me go mental at someone and, a night of not so great sex. Yep, all too late the alarm bells rang clear. I left and thankfully, never saw Julien again.

Didier - Part 2

So despite the inevitable wine head the next morning I had had a really nice time with Didier..and not just because of his glorious wine cave. Ok, it was due to the visit of said wine cave that I couldn't remember much about the actual sex (clearly I had still been drunk the morning after the night before) but I did remember that it wasn't horrible and that is always a good start right...riiight?! Well, that's what I chose to tell myself anyway.

Even if I couldn't remember the exact details of getting frisky with Didier I really had the impression that he was a bit of a keeper - he was hot, had a great job, was super sweet and best of all seemed to be really into me. So it was with this in mind that I debated doing something that this Anglolut doesn't really do. I decided that perhaps it would be a good idea to hold off and not have sex with him the next time I saw him. Now , I know that this is nothing unusual for most people but my mind goes more like this:

• boy likes girl
• girl likes boy
• boy and girl fancy each other
• boy and girl are capable of giving each other great pleasure
• boy and girl have great (hopefully!) sex and may or may not live happily ever after.

So it was with my virtual chastity belt on that I tottled over to Didiers in the snow (in heels) the next weekend. He's really into old movies and had never seen Roman Holiday, I love that movie and also happen to have it on dvd so we had arranged to watch it. Again he proved his sweetness when I got there and had a variety of chocolate biscuits waiting and introduced me to carambars (yummy!). We snuggled down on the sofa and watched Roman Holiday and I realized that if I wanted a boyfriend this would've been the perfect scenario: huge snowdrops falling down outside whilst all warm inside with a handsome man to keep me warm. I should have been concentrating on Audrey Hepburn running riot around Rome but all I could think about was how sexy Didier was and how hard it was going to be to say no....

It wasn't long before my resistance was tested. Throughout the movie Didier had tried it on with several sneaky attempts to stick his hand down my bra/pants only to be met with a slap on the hand. After the movie finished he really turned on the charm with the oh so familiar 'you have such beautiful eyes' followed up with a 'but you know that already'...huh? I do?! Do I walk around with a sign around my neck saying 'I have beautiful eyes'?! That wasn't what charmed me though, after a particularly passionate kiss it was very clear by the bulge in Didiers jeans that his mind was no longer on the movie and that he reeeally wanted to have his wicked way with me. I was really good though and I totally resisted.

For about ten minutes.

We both had plans for later on that evening and so wrapped up warm for the bitter winter evening outside. My silly heels teamed with my big coat, cozy hat, scarf and gloves must've made me look like a walking contradiction but I didn't care. As Didier switched off the living room light somehow we ended up in one last kiss for the evening and well....I guess I couldn't resist just checking to see if he still had the huge erection going on...As soon as my had ahem...grazed...down there it was like an explosion! Coats were being ripped off, gloves and hats discarded and the next thing I knew Didier was fumbling with the button on my pants and was pulling them down. In true Frenchman fashion a condom seemed to appear out of nowhere (still a mystery to me where that came from but I imagine he had had it in the back pocket of his jeans all afternoon the expectant devil!) and the next thing I knew we were doing it up against the wall - woohoo for shorter than average men after all! It was so hot and passionate and really was like a scene out a movie. And this time there was no doubt about it...it was fantastic!

Afterwards Didier walked me to the metro and we said goodbye with huge grins on our faces. He told me it was a moment that he would never forget and I absolutely had to agree with him.

 

Encounter 4 - Didier, Part 1

I don't remember much about the very first night that I met Didier except that I was pretty hammered after indulging in too much wine in a bar. My friend had been talking to his friend, we shared a quick kiss and the next day I discovered this verrrry handsome new guy added to my facebook friends. He worked in advertising for a very well known French company, seemed utterly adorable, very sweet and very French!
About a week after we met he popped up on my Facebook and started to chat away, en francais bien sur! Chatting to cute guys online is a great way to practice your French and is far more enjoyable than paying lots of money for boring French lessons. However...my French isn't so great and it led to a little misunderstanding. Didier asked if I would like to meet the next night for a drink and of course I did. He said something about a wine cave near his place and we arranged where and when to meet the next night. So the next night we met up and I have to confess that he was shorter than what I remembered, at 160cm I am not exactly tall so it is bad news when I think that a guy is short. Nonetheless he was really hot with green eyes and floppy hair...even if he was sans designer stubble! He started to lead the way to where we were going and led me right to his front door! I was pretty confused - I thought we were going to a bar and yes, I know it was stupid but I got good vibes off the guy so rather than admit my pathetic level of French I decided just to see it through and when we entered his flat and he produced a lovely bottle of expensive champagne I knew I wouldnt regret that decision.
I love being in peoples homes for the 1st time, I think you can tell so much about them. In my home I have photos on the wall, loads of books and DVDs, cute cards sent from my family and you can tell I like pink. Didiers place was minimal to perfection. There was no books/cd's or anything like that lying around, it was impossible to tell what his interests were! He wasn't from Paris and he asked me why I was single, I asked him same thing. His answer? "It is so difficult to find a wife in Paris, these women are very cold. But I am very glad I have met you"...like just whoa!!! What can a girl even reply to that?! However I just smiled and drank my champagne and tried not to get weirded out. After the 1st bottle of champage Didier regretfully told me that all he had in his kitchen was red wine. Me, not being a fan of red wine told him that water would be fine but nooooo.... He told me to put my shoes on and follow him....
As I followed him down the stairs and towards the cellars I was beginning to wonder if my instincts had failed me and this guy was infact a crazy serial killer who was going to chop me up into tiny pieces. I was pleasantly surprised to find this wasn't the case and was shocked by what I saw: in his small cave there was wine EVERYWHERE!!! I do not exaggerate when I say there was hundreds of bottles. There was wine glasses, books on wine, wine in boxes, wine in bags, bottles of wine and champagne just sitting on the floor...as Didier selected another nice bottle of champagne (worth like 60euros, I totally checked it out in a shop a few days later!) I could only stand open mouthed. I'm sure I must've looked very attractive! We headed back upstairs and well, after two bottles of champagne I'm sure you can figure out the rest. I wont go into detail except to say that yet again there was a plentiful stash of condoms right beside the bed,,,,
The next orning I woke up at 9am (urgh, so early!) to find that Didier was already up, dresssed and eating breakfast. Not wanting him to think I was a lazy cow I got up and did my best to pretend that I was a) not hungover and b) perfectly used to getting up at such a ungodly hour at the weekend. Here I witnessed Didiers 1st weirdo Frenchism...he was drinking his tea out a bowl! Like a breakfast bowl that a person would eat their cereal out of. Why do French people do that?! Why not just have 2 mugs of tea? He also seemed to have endless amounts of energy and enthusiasm and weirdo Frenchism number 2 - he always said 'hup!'...Just.dont.get.it! Anyway, he told me that he was up early because he had to go and meet a friend. I figured that I may as well take advantage of him while I had him and dragged him back to the bedroom to make him late. When I finally allowed him to escape my clutches he told me to stay in bed and to stay for as long as I wanted. Very trusting you might think but as I said this guy seemed to have nothing but wine for belongings...
So he said a very sweet goodbye and left me lying in his bed and despite his strange Frenchisms and apparent search for a wife it was another a bientot to another handsome Frenchman.

The Anglosluts guide to bagging a Frenchman...but not keeping him!

This year the British singer Jessie J released a song entitled "Do It Like A Dude"...personally I think the song is shit but some of the lyrics make me chuckle...for example:

Boom Boom, pull me a beer
No pretty drinks, I'm a guy out here
Rollin' rollin' rollin' rollin' money like a pimp
My B I T C H's on my dick like this

So ok it's little crass but it's making a point. It's 2011 and women can have as much sex as she wants to, she craves it, enjoys it and often wants it more than her male partner(s). She can be the one that pulls the condom out from the bedside drawer, she can leave without giving her number the next day and she doesn't have to be the one sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring (although lets be honest, we've all had out hearts in our mouths at some point waiting for that all important text!).

So for all you ladies out there who just want to go out and have no strings attached here is my guide to bagging your Frenchman...but not keeping him!

• First of all (and this is not essential) - be thin! I KNOW!!! That is ridiculously un-feministic of me but it's true. It's never going to be easy to get laid in this City if you have thighs like tree trunks. What's even better is if you are thin but with big (real) boobs - the poor Frenchmen just don't seem to understand how this is possible and will be temporarily facinated.
• Choose your location carefully. Anglo bars seem to be rife with ugly Frenchmen there to pick up "easy" Anglo girls. The few time I have been I have found this to be particullarly true of O'Sullivans on Grands Boulevards. Generally I would say avoid but if you are desperate....
• Your outfit - don't look trashy BUT don't go the Frenchgirl route and be classic either. Short and tight works as does low, but please, do not team these together! Bright colors are a sure way to show off your non-Frenchgirlness, especially in winter when everywhere you look you see drab greys and blacks.
• Drink alcohol, have fun! I'm not saying you have to be dancing on the bar tops but the girl who is laughing is of course going to appear easier to pick up than the girl quietly sipping her one glass of wine over 3 hours! Loud laughing in this city seems to be seriously frowned upon  - fuck it! Smile and be happy!
• Dumb down your level of French (unless he has perfect English). Your Frenchman isn't going to be inclined to introduce you to his friends/family if he thinks you can't communicate with them. So speak English with him and boost his ego by letting him think that is language skills are superior to yours.
• If you want to have sex with him the first night then do it - you're not looking for a husband here.
• Similarly if you want to text him for a 1am booty call then go ahead and do it!
• Make it known that you are avaliable for sex if that's all you are after. Wear your sexiest underwear/stockings/suspenders on the 1st date, not only will he love it but you get to feel like a sex kitten!

The most important point though is be safe! Don't put your sexual health at risk for a quick roll in the sheets and always let a friend know where you are!

Feminists please do not hunt me down and kill me - it's tongue in cheek...honest!

Encounter 3 - Guillaume, Part 1

In September two significant things happened: One - C left Paris for good and two - I met the hottest guy ever who ended up being the 1st Frenchie that I really liked.

The reason I mention the 1st point is because it was after my ex left Paris that things really took a turn for the best. I moved to Paris to be with C and I had never really been in this city without him, I was expecting slight panic when he left - who would I turn to if something happened to me? But in actual fact when he left it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders...no longer would I be walking around on eggshells terrified that I would bump into him and the girl he replaced me with a couple of weeks after we split up.

And so, it was with this newfound carefree feeling that I got dressed up one Saturday night to head for some drinks with friends. Incase you havent noticed already, I like sex and have probably what is considered a much higher than average sex drive. By this point it had been FIVE months which felt more like a year. So with this itch that needed scratched that I delibretely dressed an un-Frenchlike as possible. I was only going to a bar in Oberkampf (one of my favourite areas to go out in Paris!) but I wore a short dress with no tights, high heels and lots of red lipstick. I've found that French girls dont get all that dresssed up to go out, nor do they wear much make-up.

After drinking a bottle of wine (to myself, yeah I guess I still was drinking too much) at my friends place we headed to a small bar. We were chatting away when the guy at the table beside us heard us talking English and asked me where we were from. I almost died and went to heaven, he was tall with floppy hair, gorgeous brown eyes, designer stubble, a gorgeous smile...you get the idea! When he asked if I wanted to go outside and join him for a smoke I couldn't have said yes fast enough. I don't smoke but I still took a few draws from his rollie (yuck) and tried to disguise my disgust at the taste of it (probably not very well, I've been told I have a very expresssive face). The rest of that night is pretty hazy, I remember we went back into that bar, he bought me some drinks and then I demanded that we went dancing (I get bossy when drunk). We went to the Nouveau Casino where I remember ordering shots of vodka (I just don't know when to stop sometimes - le sigh) and then after that...everything is blank.

Have you ever woken up and had NO IDEA where you are? And I don't mean when you wake up and forget for a second, I mean proper, 'Oh my God , where am I?'. I have, this one time and it was not fun. Thankfully the first thing that I noticed was that I was still fully dressed, the second was that the ineviatable hangover was absent (probably because I was still abit drunk) and as I sat up the third was that the guy lying next to me was well and truly delicious!!!!So what do you do in that poition? Well I smiled and said good morning and acted like my memory was not a total blank. Which backfired when he asked if i remembered his name :

Anglosluts Mouth :  Of course I do..it's uhhh...erm...
Anglosluts Mind : Fuuuck, what's his name...will he be offended that I can't remember? Is there a bill, anything lying around? Fuck, he's looking at me expectantly...fuuuuuck, damn you wine!
Anglosluts Mouth : Erm...ahhh, maybe you'll have to remind me. I bet you don't remember MY name!

He did. He also had by the bed a glass of water and an asprin for my expected hangover. Is it wrong to use a strangers toothbrush? Between the choice of alcohol morning breath and using a toothbrush I'll choose the latter. So after a brush of the teeth and a quick wipe under the eyes to remove smudged mascara I returned back to G's bed where things started to heat up. I was so happy that I had chosen to wear cute matching underwear! And I can tell you...the wait was SO worth it! G was just so sexy in every way and he was like a total machine. He was the 1st guy that I noticed the large box of condoms beside her bed though, and really I wasn't too sure how to take that. Careful or a he-slut? I somehow managed to convince myself that he was just careful.

That was a great day which I deemed 'Sexy Sunday', we literally stayed in bed allll day, only getting up around 8pm to go get some dinner. To me G was pefect, totally gorgeous, smart, well travelled and owned his own sucessfull buinness. I consider myself very average so it was a real case in internally high-fiving myself. After dinner we returned to his place and continued our sex-a-thon. He'd lived in his flat for 2 years and had never fucked on the balcony so I took care of that. Sex on a balcony is always fun - whens it's directly accross from a hotel window it's just downright naughty! AND unlike the fool Arnaud before him, G's command of the English language was fantastic. I didn't expect for someone I'd only just me to ask me if I 'liked his hard dick in my pussy' and could only mutter a feeble yes thanks to the surprise but as Sexy Sunday went on the chat became dirtier and sexier until I finally found myself muttering 'say it in French'. He obliged. Wow. Just wow, that's all I can really say. if you haven't had a hot Frenchman talk dirty to you in his native tongue then put it on your to-do list. Seriously, even if your married to an American guy and have 5 kids.

Sadly Sexy Sunnday came to an end (after having sex 8 times, yes I counted, yes it's a little pathetic, no I don't care) and I had the joy of going to work on Monday morning with very sore thights but a huge smile on my face. G walked me to the metro, asked for my number and promised to be in touch.

And so it was an a bientot rather than an au revoir to encounter nuber 3!

Introduction

Welcome to the adventures of this Anglo-Slut. If you happen to have stumbled across this then I apologise in advance for any raciness you may encounter. If you are looking for the typical blog about someone living in Paris talking about long walks and museums and the beauty of it all then you will be disappointed. The only beauty I will refer to is that of the Frenchmen that I am surrounded by. There is a reason for this blog...my dear dear friend hereby known as NC dared to move to the other side of the world, we are both rubbish at emailing and recently she asked me to write a blog so...voila!
I won't write much about me except that I am an anglo who has been living in Paris for over 2years now. Just over a year ago I split up with my English boyfriend, so this blog will document all past and current Frenchman encounters, all for the benefit of NC!
As it is stupid o'clock in the morning here I will keep this 1st post brief but as an introduction here is some observations about the most beautiful men on Earth (the Frenchies)

• Frenchmen are the only nationality in the world that can pull off that floppy hair.
• They seen to have a rule book that they use for chatting up Anglo girls - the favourite seems to be 'you have such beautiful eyes' - bleugh!
• It is perfectly normal for them to approach a girl walking down the street and ask for her number/a date.
• They always seem to have a large stash of condoms by their bed and whip them out fast. Unlike Anglo boys they dont try to just stick it in. If its hard then it's wrapped up.
• Kissing in a club generally makes them think that sexytime is automatically on the cards.
• 'Tres jolie' appears to actually be sincere. 'So beautiful' seems to be used when they are trying to get laid.
• A Frenchman talking dirty to you is exhilirating. If you have never had the pleasure then it sucks to be you.
• Anglo girls tend to be viewed as easy - I'm not gonna lie, I'm the kind of Anglo girl that adds to that reputation.

Might be worth mentioning that I seem to have a 'type' of Frenchman that I go for. In general they have floppy hair, designer stubble and brown eyes like pools of chocolate you could swim in. Oh and I also seem to be attrated to the he-sluts!

So introduction over - I'm off to sleep. Enjoy NC - you owe me a fucking good email now! ;)