Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2020 11:21:55 -0500 From: Peyton Jones Subject: Memoirs, chapter 1, Lesbian, Beginnings Memoirs This story is the property of the co-authors and cannot be reproduced or distributed without specific consent of the authors. This work is Copyrighted. All Rights Reserved. It is written for your enjoyment only. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. We hope you will enjoy our story. We welcome and comments you have good or bad. You may reach us at shanda321j@gmail.com Chapter One Amelie By Chrissy and Peyton I had moved to Paris about two months before all grown up at the age of nineteen, alone, not able to fluently speak the language, and wondering if I made the wrong decision. I had come to Paris to study art, as my passion was painting and sketching. I thought I had talent and still do, but I was learning I most likely would never be a successful famous painter at least in my lifetime as most famous painters were long gone before their work was fully recognized and appreciated. Oh, did I mention, I was doing this alone, with no help at all? You see, when I moved to France not only was I trying to become a famous painter, but I was also escaping the criticism of over-bearing parents who did not approve of my passion for painting or for my choice of lifestyle. They had for all intent and purposes disowned me after an issue with my art teacher Mrs. Collins had been exposed. Additionally growing up in the States, I had endured being in the closet most of my life and when I was exposed, then endured the wrath of a society that believed in only heterosexual love. They condemned us who found love in the arms of someone of the same sex. Yes, I am a lesbian and have been ever since I can remember. I do find men attractive, and have many I consider very close friends, but have never had the desire to have any more of a relationship with them beyond friendship. Coming to France was my way of escaping all of this and breaking ties with my parents at the same time. It would be many years before we saw each other and they accepted me as their daughter, the lesbian. At the time, while still not universally accepted, France and Europe in general were much more tolerant of same sex relationships and you didn't have to hide your sexuality here as we had to in the States. Even today some twenty-four years later, France and all of Europe are way ahead of the States, but the Pride Revolution is beginning to make strides over in the states. Have you ever had one of those days or nights where your mind just wanders and you begin to reminisce about something from your past that made you really happy? It may have been a life changing event or a point in time when you needed something good to happen and it did. I have and I believe all of you have too. I think most people do, and if you are like me, it wasn't the best of times for me when I began to reminisce. In fact, it was a low point in my life and if it weren't for reminiscing, I.... well I won't go there, but my life needed something good to happen or I wouldn't be writing this now. It was a cold and rainy night....the kind of night where the moon didn't exist and while there was no thunder and lightning there were other noises and heavy rain that wouldn't relent. If anyone was out in this rain they wore a heavy overcoat and a big brimmed black hat and you avoided them at all cost if you came across them! No, wait! That is another type of story. Sorry, had to throw that in there to get over my melancholy attitude. My classes were going well and the instructors I had were patient with my inability to fluently speak French. I believe they have had, over time, many students from many different countries in their classrooms like me. It was however, very frustrating for me as I was trying to study, paint and learn French all at the same time in order to survive. I lived in more of a group home as I had a bedroom with a small room off of it for sitting, but had to share a bathroom that was down the hall with three others on my floor. At least the French at this time were accustomed to this, and nudity and modesty weren't high on their priority list even though this was the mid nineteen nineties. I had finished my third week of classes and it was the weekend. Not comfortable going out alone and not having made any real friends to hang out with, I sat in my room and tried to stay busy by reading a book in French that I also had in English. I was using the books to try to learn to speak French. As I read, my mind began to wander. I questioned whether all this was worth it or should I pack up and go back with my tail between my legs to the States and start over in a new career. I imagined many scenarios of what happened and what would have happened if my sexuality hadn't played a major role in my decisions. It was then I remembered even though I had never ever really forgot, my very first time with another girl. I often wondered what ever happened to her as we lost contact when her parents moved for her dad's job. I decided even though it was clear in my mind, to write about that experience and in time maybe write about my other experiences, maybe even making a book about my life. Ha Ha! Yes, I have a very big imagination thinking everything I do I will be a success at. After writing about my first-time experience, I decided to venture out to the market and get something to eat. I put the paper I wrote my experience on in a folder and put it in a box of my things as I had little to no storage space in my room. I left my room and walked to the market place doing a lot of listening to people talk trying to understand what they were saying. I bought some fruit and cheese along with a stick of bologna and a loaf of bread. I sat on a bench in the square. Not having a knife on me I would take a bite of the bread, then the cheese, then the bologna. After I was almost full from that I ate a banana I had bought and walked back to my room carrying the left-over food which would be my dinner and if any more was left then tomorrows lunch. As I'm walking in the building, I encounter a couple standing in the hallway arguing in French. Even arguing the sound of them speaking French was music to my ears as I have always loved the way the French language flows. They pay me no mind and I brush past them excusing myself having to put my hand on the girl's shoulder to get by as she is standing in the middle of the hallway. She gives me a glance and our eyes meet. Even in her anger it was if she was looking into my soul and liking what she was seeing. I walked up the stairs towards my room as I heard them continue to argue then a moment later I heard the front door slam and for a second there was silence. I could hear the girl sobbing. I stopped walking and wondered if I should go back and see if I could console her but not being fluent in French I realized what good would I be if I couldn't understand anything she said. I turned back around to walk to my room when I heard her quickly coming up the stairs. "Attendez! Je veux m'excuser pour ce qui s'est pass‚," she said. I turned to see if she was talking to me as she was quickly coming up the last of the steps and looking right at me. "Je suis desole que vous ayez du entrendre ca. Je ne suis pas vraiment si mechant. Marcus a une facon de me render si fou." I was really in a predicament as I understood some words but couldn't put the sentences together to know what she was saying so in my best broken French, I told her I was an American and still learning to speak French but didn't understand what she was saying. Not to mention since she was excited from her argument and out of breath from running up the stairs, she spoke extra fast. "Oh, American. Then English it is," she said in beautiful English with a French accent. "I'm Amelie Moreau. I was trying to apologize for you having to hear me argue with now my ex- boyfriend Marcus." "It is nice to meet you, Amelie. I'm Julianne Reed. And since I'm not fluent in French, no apology is necessary. I didn't understand any of what was said," I told her and we both laughed. "What's a young pretty girl like you doing in Paris if you do not speak French?" Amelie asked. I wasn't sure how to answer that especially knowing she had just broken up with her boyfriend, but in France bisexuality is very common too. I chose to ignore for the moment the comment about young and pretty and answer her question. "I came here to study art," I told her. "Oh, another artist," She said as if she was condemning the occupation. "Then you go to the French Institute of Art?" "Yes, I do," I replied thinking this would be the end of the conversation. "What are you studying?" she then asked. "Paintings and sketching," I said trying to limit my responses since it appeared that she did not approve. "I'm a sculpture myself. Mostly clay, but I have tried metal and stone too. I'd much rather work with clay," she told me. That was a surprise. Here I thought she had a disdain for artist only to find she was one herself. "Do you go to the Institute too?" "Yes, I do. That's why I'm living in this dump. It's the closest rooming house to the Institute and almost everyone in here is a student there too so we all have common ground." "Well I live here out of necessity as I have limited finances and can't really afford anything more," I told her. "You are not alone. Most everyone here is poor and just getting by. I chose to live here for the convenience and to get back at my parents and grandparents who think I should be living in a five- star hotel if I'm going to stay here. I'm trying to show them that money doesn't mean as much to me as it does to them," she said and smiled the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. All this time talking and my arms were still holding the remaining fruit, bread, cheese and bologna I had bought earlier. She must have noticed my discomfort as she suggested we go into my place and talk so I could put these things down. "Is that what you eat?" "Yeah, it's really pretty good but it is also cheap and goes a long way." "You picked my favorite combination. You are only missing butter to put on the bread before you put the cheese and bologna on it though. It makes the flavors even more powerful when you taste them all together." "You like this too?" "Oh, yes. Don't get me wrong. Yes, I come from money. But I like the simpler things in life and it doesn't have to be expensive or sound rich to satisfy my palate." Amelie and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking and getting to know each other. I found her exciting and beautiful and loved the way she spoke English. At times she would venture into French then apologize and go back to English. By the end of the afternoon we had come to an agreement that she would teach me to speak French. From that day forward until I became comfortable speaking French on my own she would say something in English then French so I would hear it spoken both ways. We instantly became friends and for the next few weeks we walked together to class and then home again in the afternoon, eating dinner together and talking about our lives. It was then I told her about my reason for ending up here. I briefly explained my relationship with Cindy and how it exploded after I left for college. I further told her how my parents had basically disowned me and I was now on my own trying to be accepted and survive. She told me she understood revealing to me her bisexuality. Growing up in France she had traveled throughout Europe. Her parents were very wealthy and her grandparents even more so, but she tried not to rely on their money or help as she wanted to prove her worth without their money. Unlike me, her parents and grandparents while they wanted her to be straight, they didn't condone her bisexuality. She and I were the same age both turning twenty this year. We stood approximately the same height at one-hundred-seventy-two centimeters, fairly tall for ladies. Both of us are very slender. I weigh just over sixty-two kilograms. Amelie is a little heavier and thus sometimes I kid her about being fat, weighing sixty-four and a half kilograms. My hair when we met was light brunette with blonde streaks from the sun where Amelie's hair was jet black and hung straight down to almost her butt. My eyes are hazel almost leaning towards green and Amelie's are brown as can be. My skin tone is a normal color and I do tan easily thus during the warmer months I darken fairly easily. Amelie is a goddess. Her skin is a smooth looking almost olive complexion and when she is in the sun she turns very dark. There has to be some Mediterranean heritage in her line as she had that appearance about her. We soon became the best of friends. We could share any of our thoughts with each other and we seemed to like to do all the same things. Over the next month we talked politics, families, desires, likes and dislikes, and aspirations for the future. We both wanted to become artist in our own trades. No topic was taboo including so called taboo topics. The only thing we hadn't shared was our love for each other. I know we both saw it coming but neither of us pushed until we were sure the other was ready for that next step. Our friendship meant too much to us and we didn't want anything to ruin the relationship we already had. Love has a way of conquering all or making a total fucking mess of it all and soon our love for each other would consume any reservations we had. It was a weekend and we had been nightclubbing. As in most countries the use of drugs especially marijuana is illegal. In the mid-nineties it was no different. If you knew where to go it was easily obtained and readily used among our age of people as a recreational use drug. The particular club we went to where Amelie knew many of the people, we were able to smoke while we partied. When we left, from the effects of the drug and from the alcohol we consumed, we were feeling no pain and were very happy and giddy as we walked back to our rooms. At this point we had never slept together in the literal sense. The most we had ever done was hug each other, hold hands, and kiss on the cheeks maybe occasionally a quick kiss on the lips. Up until now we always slept in our own rooms and in our own beds. Tonight, however all the holding back and respecting the limits of our friendship was erased with the smoking of a couple of joints. We arrived back at our building and were at the point where we should have said goodnight and gone to our separate rooms. Something happened that moment that I will never forget. We were in the hallway and another tenant came out of her rooming running towards the bathroom. She bumped into us pushing us together face to face. Instead of separating and moving on we stayed close staring into each other's eyes. To this day I will never forget those gorgeous eyes looking at me. I grabbed Amelie's hand opening my door and pulled her inside closing the door behind us. I pushed her back into the door and moving myself up to her until our noses were touching. Without either of us saying a word, we kissed and immediately my head while already dizzy from the pot, was swirling with love. I pushed my tongue inside of Amelie's mouth and held her hands up as if I was going to frisk her against the door. Our tongues were swirling around and I could taste her lips driving me even more into territory I had never in my life been too. We continued to kiss with my hands releasing her hands and dropping one down to her cheek to hold it while the other pressed up against her breast. She moaned and brought her hands around my neck and shoulders and held me tight. As we kissed and I fondled her breast over her blouse and bra our bodies seemed to come together. I let go of her cheek dropping my hand to between her legs feeling her mound in my palm. She moaned a few words in French and I heard her say my name as she lifted one of her legs up and wrapped it around the back of my legs allowing me to feel more of her pussy. My hand rubbed her mound and my fingers pushed into her pants feeling her pussy open up to my fingers. She pushed me away and for a second I thought I had gone too far and she had come to her senses. A second later she was unbuttoning her blouse while not taking her eyes off of mine. She had her blouse off and was unclasping her bra before I really realized what she was doing. Quickly I tried to catch up by unbuttoning a few buttons on my shirt before pulling it over my head and off. She had her pants down and was trying to get them off of her feet while not taking her eyes off what I was doing so I bent down and pulled them off of her feet. That left me with my face in front of her pussy and I took advantage of the situation. Before I pulled her panties down I kissed her mound over her panties inhaling what I could have sworn was strawberries. I kissed her inner thighs and then her pussy all this time smelling strawberries. Amelie was standing there breathing hard staring at me with her hands on the side of my head lightly holding it in place. I reached up with each hand and pulled on the waistband of her panties sliding them slowly off of her. Amelie didn't shave but she did keep everything trimmed very nicely. As I pulled her panties down I leaned against her to smell the aroma of strawberries before I kissed her now naked mound. She spread her legs after I removed her panties moaning after each gentle kiss I gave her. I took my hand and rubbed it up through her slit feeling her already soaked with juices and feeling it drip onto my hand. Not wanting to waste any of it I brought my tongue to her slit and licked my way up to her clit. Amelie gasped and put her leg over my shoulder holding my head with her hands. She told me to take her as she was so close to cumming even though at this point we had done very little. When I pulled her lips apart and brought my tongue again through her slit she squealed gasping how wonderful it felt. Realizing she was on the edge and would cum any second, I did not want to seduce or tease her any more. I pushed two fingers inside of her and sucked her clit into my mouth. She may have lasted maybe another ten seconds at the most and then she came. He juices poured out of her pussy soaking my mouth, chin and running down my bare chest. She cried out in French of course, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming." I continued to suck on her wanting to taste as much of the strawberry flavor oozing out and to satisfy her. She pushed my head back, lifting her leg off of my shoulder and slumped down on the floor in front of me. She pulled me in kissing my lips and mouth. Once she opened her eyes she looked at me and said, "No one has ever made me cum that quickly or that hard. Many of the people I have been in bed with I never came unless I rubbed myself while they were licking me. You had me almost cumming just kissing me. You are a jewel to me. I love you so much!" Wow! Did I just hear her say she loved me? I was shocked in a way but down deep I had already felt I loved her too. I just wasn't ready to admit it. I smiled and we kissed again. Then she rose and pulled me up with her unfastening my pants and slipping them off along with my panties. We moved to the bed where she laid me down and crawled on top of me staring at my eyes again. God, that look! Those eyes! Over twenty years later and I still melt when those eyes meet mine. Amelie leaned down and kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and neck. We kissed passionately for a few minutes and I could feel her pussy grinding against mine as she was slightly moving her hips as we kissed. I would have been content if she kept it up as I felt I could easily have an orgasm with her touching me that way but she had other plans. She kissed my cheeks and my ears slipping her tongue inside of each ear before kissing my neck all over. She didn't stay long in any one spot but continued to shower me with light kisses or nibbles as she moved down across my body. I think since I had teased her in my seduction, she did not want to be outdone so she made sure she left nothing untouched or not kissed including my underarms which I found out at that time were very sensitive and very erogenous especially from her. As she kissed each of my nipples and bit them oh so lightly I almost came right there and moaned she was going to make me cum if she didn't stop. She moved lower kissing every part of my abdomen before she got to my hips and pelvic area. For a moment I thought she was going to pass over them and kiss my feet and legs but I think she felt enough was enough as by now I was begging her to make me cum. Amelie kissed each hip and upper leg before she moved towards my pussy. Her hand was already there and she was palming me on my clit and mound. My legs were open wide and once her head was down past my waist, I brought my legs up, opening them even wider with my feet on the bed. "You have a perfect pussy my jewel. Your lips are perfectly shaped not protruding too far out and your mound has the perfect roundness rising up from your stomach. I also like how you have shaved everything. One of these days I might try the same thing. Or better yet, you can shave me," She said smiling and giving me a wink before she lightly kissed my clit. Amelie didn't waste any time after that and parted my lips, sticking her tongue in deep into my pussy. She moved her tongue around tasting all of the insides of my pussy before curling her tongue and bringing it out so it ran across the top of my pussy as it came out. "Fuck, Amelie. I love what you are doing," I moaned. She removed her tongue and replaced it with her index and middle finger facing up with her fingers curled at the end. This way she was hitting my g-spot as she moved them in and out. She alternated using her tongue on my clit or using her thumb from the same hand that was inside of me and in minutes I was cumming. "Yes, oh god, yes, awwwkkk," I squealed and came on her hand and mouth. After my body relaxed some she moved her hand again inside of me. Every time she moved her fingers out and across my g-spot I shuddered and my body went into another slight orgasm until I had to grab her wrist to keep her from doing it anymore. I pulled her up to me kissing her mouth tasting myself on her and then tasting the aroma of strawberries. We kissed several times then broke the kissing to breathe. "You sent me to heaven and back several times, Amelie. And your taste! Every time I taste you, I taste strawberries. Do you use some body wash or body spray that has a strawberry flavor to it?" "Not that I am aware of. But I can let you smell my wash and lip gloss if you want to see if that is what you are smelling. I rarely wear perfume and I don't have any on right now anyway." We both had come down from our high from the joints we had smoked and had a better handle on our emotions. I still was thinking about her telling me she loved me and I had to ask. "Earlier you said something to me and I want to know if it was the alcohol and drugs or were you serious." "What is it my Jewel?" she asked. "You said you loved me." "Oui, je t'aime de tout mon coeur mon beau bijou." That I understood and no matter the language most everyone would know she told me she loved me with all her heart. It was then, I realized just how much, over the last month, I had grown to love her too. "Amelie, I so love you too," I said and tears started running down my cheeks. She looked at me and then the tears were running down her cheeks too as we realized how much we both had grown to love each other. We kissed some more and kept our arms around each other not wanting this moment to end. Soon though between the exhaustion we felt from the nights activities and the wearing off of the alcohol and pot we both fell asleep. Sometime in the night I felt Amelie move and get out of bed. My fear was she was leaving and going back to her room. I sat up to ask her what she was doing. "Where are you going?" Amelie, sensing the fear in my voice as I was still half asleep bent over kissing me on the lips, "Just going to go pee my Jewels. I'll be right back." She turned and walked out the door without putting any clothing on at all. The door opened and she walked back in after going to pee. "See my love, I wasn't leaving you," she sweetly said to me as she got back in bed. "You didn't put anything on?" I questioned her. "No need to. It's three in the morning and no one else is up. Even if they were I'm not embarrassed about my body or who sees it." I got up telling her I needed to pee too. I looked for my robe then thought the hell with it. If Amelie could walk around nude then so could I. I left the room walking down the hall to the toilet and using it before coming back to my room and slipping in bed next to Amelie. "See, liberating walking around nude isn't it?" she asked me. I didn't answer her but between seeing her walk out and back naked and doing it myself I was feeling rather amorous. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, then cheeks and nose. She moaned and told me, "I think someone likes walking around nude so everyone can see." We continued to kiss and our hands began to roam. No sooner when our hands went between the others legs she told me she wanted to lick me again. I told her I wanted to lick her too so we moved so my head was lying on her leg and her head on my leg as we were on our sides. We now could each lick the other at the same time. We matched each other's motions as if we were looking in a mirror. As my tongue licked her opening, then back towards her rosebud, hers was doing the same to me. When my finger rubbed her clit, hers rubbed mine. We slowly licked and played with each other not in any hurry to make the other climax and not trying to seduce the other. This was more intimate and enjoying the other person while slowly moving towards a climax. I was thoroughly enjoying her taste as again the scent of strawberries was present. But also I was exploring what she liked and what hot buttons I could push on her when it was time for her to cum. Amelie had and to this date still does has the most beautiful and tasteful pussy I have ever had. Her juices freely flow when she is turned on and since I love strawberries, mmm um! Her smooth olive skin was intoxicating to me and I couldn't get enough of her. My tongue moved back to her rosebud and she obviously liked that as she pushed her hips towards me as to push her rosebud closer to me. At the same time she was doing the same to me. "Oh fuck," I moaned. "Yes, Amelie!" "Yes my Jewels, yes! I love what you are doing," she responded. Soon we had had enough of the build up and both were on the edge of climaxing. I pushed my tongue as deep into her pussy as I could and rubbed her clit with my thumb until I felt her body move faster before a slight jerk and she went stiff and pushed her pussy hard into my face moaning, "Oh god, yes, yes my Jewels!" Then she slowly went limp and her body completely relaxed. I was so on the edge needing to cum and she realized I hadn't. She pulled me on top of her and went after my pussy as if it were her last meal. I only lasted a minute at best when I felt my orgasm build up and explode on her face. I grabbed her legs with my hands holding them tight most likely bruising them as hard as I was grabbing them and I was rubbing my pussy hard against her eager tongue. I slowly came back to earth realizing she had brought me to the brink not once but three times this night reminding me of my last lover Cindy. I turned back around facing her and we hugged and kissed for several minutes before falling back asleep arm in arm. After that night Amelie and I became inseparable. We always slept together in the same bed. We have ever since with very few exceptions but I am jumping way ahead. Another bit of information from that night. Amelie referred to me as a jewel which I took to meaning like a gem. My name being Julianne could also be an abbreviated version by saying Jewel. Amelie insisted I was her Jewel meaning gem and she wasn't trying to use an abbreviated form of my name. From that day forward she always referred to me as Jewels. You would have to ask her if she even remembers my real name now since she hasn't called me by it for over twenty years. Amelie and I graduated from art school two years later. While we are both artists, you could say we would be starving artist if we had to rely on our trade to provide a living. I paint and believe I am very good. However, I am not an eccentric who takes six months to paint one picture, then sells it for five-hundred-thousand plus Euros which back then would be over three million francs. I don't have the patience or talent to paint the kind of artwork that could bring in that much money. I'm more of a tourist or local fare painter who paints landscapes and sketches portraits selling them for anywhere from twenty-five to one-thousand Euros. But I am insulted and so would be Amelie if we were considered no better than a street vendor. We simply had not found the right venue to sell our work. Amelie is a sculptor who works with clay. Like me she has talent but she also is not dedicated enough to rely on her artwork to make a living but then she doesn't have to. With her parents and grandparents wealth they have set her up with a trust and an allowance that would support her in a very luxurious lifestyle if she chose to live that way. The independent person she is though her ideals and proud ego won't allow her to live that way. Instead she takes only what she needs to get by with some extra perks to have some fun with. Before we graduated when we would have long weekends or holiday's we would travel throughout Europe visiting Germany, much of France, Amsterdam, and over to England. We also traveled as cheaply as possible taking trains when we could, staying in the cheaper hotels or hostels, and eating at local bars and pubs, even street venders where the food was cheaper and the atmosphere was more exciting than the fancier restaurants. During this time my French improved as Amelie was a very good and patient teacher. We also learned some German and could pass on Spanish if need be. It was right after graduating Amelie and I were trying to decide what to do to earn a living. We could get by with our craft but we would have to work long hours to make enough to live without many comforts. Where to live was now an issue too as we wanted someplace bigger than the room we had by the Institute and we needed additional space for us each to have a workshop to practice our trade. We decided to take a trip, on her dime of course, to the resort area of Cap d'Agde for a week before we made the harsh decisions on what and where to live. For those of you who are not familiar with Capd'Agde it is in southern France on the Mediterranean. Developed not too many years ago to be a naturalist area that is completely gated around its perimeter. Inside everyone is nude. It is also known that open sexual contact is strictly forbidden and enforced. It is considered one of the largest naturalist areas in the world and it's relatively safe for all ages as families are allowed and present in the summer months. There are many gays and swingers who frequent the area but they tend to congregate in certain areas away from the family areas. We took the train from Paris to Cap d'Agde to get out of Paris and the hustle and bustle to enjoy ourselves and to be able to think what we would like to do now that we had graduated. Our plan was to stay there for a week and enjoy the sun and ability to walk around nude without reservations or concerns about others eyeing us. While we were there we took a side trip to Parc de Narbonnaise. We rented a car so we could drive and stop if we saw something we wanted to see. Being the artist we are we never pass up a chance to sketch a drawing or take a picture of a view you would like to paint or an object you would like to sculpt. On the way we saw a sign for a nudist resort that seemed out of the way, very secluded and from the look of the sign we should have known it was old. Cap d'Agde while a nudist area in season is far from being secluded. In fact, it can be very congested and becoming more and more popular. Anyway we pulled in to see the resort. What we found was a beautiful resort with architecture from the Roman era but it was shut down and had a for sale sign on the gate. We walked up to it and finding the gate unlocked. We were hesitant to walk in but since it was unlocked we debated whether or not to take a chance. The resort was beautiful but you could also see it needed plenty of work to restore some of the buildings and grounds around the resort. We had no sooner leaned on the gate to see inside when a big German shepherd greeted us barking as it approached the gate. We almost ran back to our car but realized the gate would keep us safe and his tail was waging even though he was barking. We talked to him to make sure he was safe before we moved back to the gate to see inside. An elderly man came around one of the buildings inside riding his bicycle up to us. He welcomed us telling us the dog was perfectly gentle but curious as it was rare to see anyone at the resort area. He offered to let us in opening the gate and telling us to drive up to the main building, the one in the middle. We drove up getting out of the car and had to pet the dog before he would leave us alone. The old man offered to show us around the resort and seemed eager having someone here to talk with. The man, Luis Alexander and his wife Lila, had lived there some forty-five years moving there several years after the big war had ended. He told us his wife mostly ran the resort and he did the maintenance but several years ago she died of cancer and he was unable to keep up the maintenance and run the resort by himself. He hired people to do some of the work but their craftsman quality was lacking and the people he hired to run the office kept cheating him out of money or allowing their friends to come in and stay for free. Instead of selling the property he closed it down because this was his wife's dream. She was buried on the property. Eventually he found he needed to sell the property but prospective buyers all told him they would only buy if her remains were moved to a cemetery. He intended to live out his life there and when he died he hoped whoever bought the place would either allow his remains to be buried next to his wife's or that both were buried together some other place. Luis gladly showed us around the resort telling us when it was built and how it was run. He and his wife apparently were ahead of the rest of the area in developing a resort catering to naturalist. The biggest problem though was its location. He was not close to the rail line or bus lines and the only way to get here was via car as taxi was too expensive. Thus as the Cap d'Agde developed more of his business dwindled until he finally shut it completely down. We had lunch with Luis at his insistence and it was obvious, he wanted company. He was a perfect gentleman and we could tell he must have been quite a character when he was younger. After showing us the entire property, which consisted of three main buildings in an inverted V as you drive in, he also showed us his wife's grave. Before we left her gravesite, he knelt kissing the headstone talking to her as if she were standing next to us. It was heart-wrenching but also showed the pure love the two of them must have shared. It was obvious with the amount of time we had spent with Luis that we would not make it to the Parc and yet it was early so when he offered us to use the facilities for the rest of the day we took him up on his invitation. He gave us a room that while musty just needed the doors opened to allow the breezes to air it out. We took off our clothes and taking the large towels Luis provided us, walked down to the beach to sun and enjoy a deserted beach. Amelie and I talked about how this place must have been a great place in its day and how it was a shame that it couldn't make a go of it since his wife had died and the Cap resort area had taken away his customer base. We lay on the beach sunning, coming up with ways we thought might bring this place back to its glamour it had when it was open. The two biggest obstacles were money and customer base. It would take money to restore the buildings inside and out plus the grounds around the resort. Then what customer base could be targeted to come here and how to get them here since it was out of the way from public transportation. It was unlikely many would rent vehicles only to have them sit for days or weeks at a time while they stayed here. The affects of the afternoon sun on our naked bodies plus the excitement of planning a resort comeback got us a little giddy. Amelie was on her back next to me and I was on my stomach. She reached over and began caressing my ass cheeks. I didn't offer any resistance because it felt good, we were on a deserted beach, and even if Luis was watching at this point I didn't care. She continued to caress my cheeks before her hand moved off to the side and slipped underneath me. Her fingers went immediately between my legs and finding my slit which was already wet from excitement. She toyed with my clit and running her fingers up through my slit not in any hurry to fuck me with her fingers or to make me cum. I moaned and began to move my hips up and down on her hand. As I did I reached over and placed my hand on her breast finding her nipple and twirling it between my index finger and thumb making it hard instantly. Let me take a moment since I haven't done so yet to describe her breasts. As I am a breast and nipple person ever since my first time with a girl, Amelie had most likely the best of the best. With her dark hair and olive complexion her areolas were very dark not quite ebony but a deep brown about an American half dollar in size. Her nipples were the same color and when aroused stuck out like an eraser on the end of a pencil. Her fingers became more insistence and my hand massaged her breast and nipple more aggressively. I heard her moan and looked back to see her other hand between her legs as she was fucking herself at the same time she was fucking me. Mutual masturbation and watching your partner do themselves also is erotic to me. We both moaned and moved more aggressively until I came on her hand pushing my pussy down hard on her fingers inside of me. I felt her body tense under my arm and then she squealed and jerked and I knew she had cum too. We both lay there for a few minutes my hand resting on her breast still lightly playing with her nipple and her hand trapped underneath me her fingers gently sliding up and down my slit. I looked over at her as she turned to look at me and we both started to giggle knowing what we just done on the beach if front of the world even though no one was around to see it. We moved onto our sides and with our arms around each other kissed this time both of us rubbing each other's pussy until we both came again. After enjoying the sun a little while longer we went back up taking a shower together and dressing before thanking Luis and leaving his place. Before we left we did get his contact information. None of us owned a cell phone as of yet and we had no idea where we were going to be living to have a landline phone. We drove back to our hotel turning in the rental car. The rest of our week at the resort in Cap d'Agde the issue of Luis's resort rarely came up. To be serious about trying to restore that resort seemed more of a dream than a possibility. The week was over and we headed back to Paris still with no idea of where we wanted to go or what to do with our selves. After we were back we both took part-time jobs wherever they were available. We found a chambre, which is what an apartment in France is referred as, which gave us more room. While I could set up an easel in the chambre and paint or sketch, Amelie had no room to do any sculpting as she needed a bigger place and one that could get dirty. And so my life in France had begun. While Amelie was not my first lover or love and I wasn't hers either, our love for each other was and is impregnable. Nothing was more important to each other than being together and showing how much we cared for each other. From the first day to today some twenty-four years later every day of my life I am so thankful I met Amelie. Other than our two girls there is no one I love more than Amelie and I spend every day trying to show her how much I love her. But this is supposed to be a story and the story can't end already with one chapter and too many unanswered questions about our lives. The story must go on. Why did I write this and why am I telling you about Amelie? Why the title Memoirs? Who are our two girls and how did they come to be? All stories have to have a beginning but to start a story at the end or in the middle sounds ridiculous but that is what I have done. You could say this is the end of the story or it could be the middle depending on your definition of timelines. The question is why did I write this at all? That I will answer next. To be continued.....