When he comes to me, I return to that raw, passionate time. He takes me back. Back to first times. Newness. Introductions. To the me that was purely m...self. He transports me. It is his time now, as it once was mine. He makes me remember. My body remembers. My senses remember. Why Paris?It is where I came of age. Have you ever been there? If so, you will understand. Perhaps your city is a different one. But Paris was mine. It is a city of innate sensuality. It is unmistakably real, with palpable. It felt incredible. I was completely light headed and putty in his big, older hands. When he asked if I wanted to see his cock, I sheepishly said, “OK” and looked at the floor, even though I was actually dying to see it. When he slid down his pants, I watched with anticipation. My heart raced with each inch his pants slid down. When his pants hit the floor and his naked cock was right there before me, I stared. I marveled at its size, the beauty of it, and of all the hair, above it and around. More

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