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!

Encounter 2 - Frank

I met Frank on a night out when I was gradually getting back to normal and at the time when C was starting to no longer be the 1st thing that I thought about in the morning. I still wasn't myself, I was still drinking too much and I was hitting the rebound bigtime but I was getting there.

I met Frank through a friend of a friend at a boat party. I was drunk, he was drunk and we ended up kissing. He was your stereotypical geek, kinda tall and lanky with glasses and he worked in the Apple store. He was also 2 years younger than me..I thought he was super hot though and I still kinda think he is. After a night of dancing and snogging we eventually left the boat party at 6am and headed back to Frank's friends place where we all partied some more until exhuastion started to kick in. It must've been around 8am when we finally left his friends place to stagger back to Franks - for want of a proper bed if nothing else! Once back at his place and comfortably into bed things started to heat up. After some time though it became clear that Frank wasn't going to..ahem..rise to the occasion. I put it down to tiredness, too much alcohol and coke then rolled over and thought nothing more of it.

Later in the afternoon I finally found the energy to get myself home. Frank walked me to the metro stop, asked for my number and kissed me goodbye. Over the next couple of weeks we exchanged texts, became friends on Facebook and discussed going for drinks sometime.

One Sunday I was out with my amazing friend N who was my absolute rock at that time. I was drunk of course and was blabbing on about how I really felt I was getting better which of course made me think of C and made me all emotional. Le sigh. Once we left the bar I went home and texted Frank and invited him over to my place. I guess I wasn't really bothered about seeing him but it was a classic rebound thing to do. Of course it turned out not to be such a good idea since he accepted my invite and hopped on the nightbus...from the other end of the city!

An hour and a half he finally arrived and by this point I was pretty much asleep. As i recall I said a groggy and drunken hello and then announced that I was going to sleep. This guy was a freakin hugger though so it was easier said than done. Then out of nowhere he started talking about our last encounter, how keeping it up was a problem for him and how he was going to go to the doctors about it. In my head all I could think was 'Uhhh, why is this guy trying to talk to me about FEELINGS! Can't a girl have some good old fashioned sex without having to talk about things?!'. Of course I'm actually a pretty nice person so rather than berate him I told him that he needed more confidence and kissed him goodnight.

After that I let things fizzle out...I had enough issues of my own without worrying about someone elses too!

And so it was Au Revoir encounter number 2!

Encounter 1 - Arnaud

When I went through a messy and painful break-up with my ex (hereby referred to as 'C') I went through 3 stages before returning to normality:

1. Crying - like all the time. At work, on the metro, in the shower, in the supermarket...you get the idea - I was a wreak.
2. Replacing food with alcohol. This was a fun time (note the sarcasm). Instead of enjoying the summer sun I kept myself company with a bottle of vodka shunning invites for picnics and other fun activities from friends. The heartbreak diet was effective though :)
3. The slutty phase - This is when I started going out and would basically kiss/fool around with anyone with a penis.

I had my first encounter with a Frenchman between stages 2 and 3. Arnaud was very tall, dark (but not floppy) haired and had a pretty poor level of English. I met him in a bar/club called Truskal. My friend and I used to say that this place is a sheer sausage fest due to the number of sleazy men who use the small, crowded conditions to press their gross sweaty bodies up against unsuspecting females. The night in question however I was the sleazy one...
Fueled by the huge amounts of alcohol in my veins and the need for attention I had wandered away from my friend to do some creeping. I spotted this guy who I thought looked pretty hot. After spying on him for a few minutes to establish that he wasn't with a girl, I marched up to him , took his hand and demanded (in English) 'come dance with me'. Five minutes later we were on the small dancefloor with his tongue rammed down my throat. And I mean literally rammed down there. Kissing someone new after C was always going to feel strange but this guys long tongue was just disgusting! Despite this and the fact that up close his eyes were slightly googly like a goldfish I continued to allow him to rape my face/mouth/throat with his tongue for the rest of the evening. After the club closed we went to a 24hr cafe and drank cocktails until 7am when I decided that I had to get some sleep. At this time I was still living with C (damn you Paris and the difficult process of flat hunting) so Arnaud and I shared a sloppy kiss goodbye and exchanged mobile numbers.
Arnaud and I exchanged a few texts and then he added me on Facebook where I was able to examine his resemblance to a goldfish through sober eyes and viewed his bad dress sense. We chatted on Facebook a few times and then he went on holiday to America for three weeks. During those 3 weeks I (finally) moved into a new flat. On his return Arnaud and I discovered that we now lived rather close by. Now something makes me wonder if this was what spurned on what happened next. From going to a guy who seemed relatively normal Arnaud suddenly turned into a sex texter. Nothing wrong with that - I enjoy a bit of dirty talk probably more than the average person. However, as previously mentioned Arnaud didn't have such good English. In his texts which he probably thought were very sexy he told me that he wanted to 'eat up your pussy', 'hold you down and rape you' (I get that some guys/girls have the whole rape fantasy thing but save that for lovers you actually know!), and 'put my hard cock in your throat'. The best text of all though was when Arnaud told me that he wanted me to 'swallow my sperms'. After that I strangely enough stopped replying to Arnauds texts and deleted him from Facebook.

Au revoir encounter number 1!

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! ;)