Memories of Paris

Permission granted to show F Dot Leonora’s legs

Gwen loved the sun. Winter, summer, spring, autumn. When the sun was out, so was Gwen. Today the winter sun slowly heated her legs where she sat on the stairs to the National Library.

It was almost too warm for the tights she had on.

Gwen closed her eyes, turned her face to the sun, and sighed.

This was life.

A sound close to her caught her attention. Gwen opened her eyes and turned her head.

“Ow! Fuck,” she muttered and grabbed the chain around her neck. The hot pendant burned her skin. She took it off and lay it on her leg.


Gwen stared at the word. The expression on her faced changed as she remembered…

Gwen and Gary.

Gary and Gwen.

One name implied the other.

Inseparable. In love. Happy. Students.

They went to class together, did their homework together, studied together, slept together, spent their weekends together. Gwen and Gary graduated together, throwing their graduation caps up high in the air, laughed, grabbed each other and danced around in circles.

Not a care in the world and an entire lifetime ahead of them. Together.

Gwen and Gary belonged together. They knew it, and the rest of the world knew it. Their plans for the future were clear. They had both already secured a job, which would help them to save money before they started their life together as husband and wife. Even though they had never spoken about marriage, it was a logical step in their love for each other.

As they jumped around in each other’s arms on their graduation day, thoughts of marriage didn’t occupy their heads. No, their excitement was for something else.


They had a tripped planned to Paris — a graduation gift from their parents.


The city of love.

The city they both had been dreaming for so many years.

That night, they lay naked together in Gwen’s bed.

“Paris,” Gwen sighed, “Finally, Paris!”
Gary looked into the deep pools of her beautiful brown eyes. He smiled.
“Paris,” he said too, “it’s going to be the best vacation ever.”

They kissed.

Gary rolled on top of Gwen without breaking off their kiss. He straddled her and briefly pushed his crotch against hers. Gwen moaned. He pulled away and moved his mouth down to her neck, kissing and lightly biting towards her breasts and nipples, down her tummy, towards her mons.

Gwen moaned again and raised her hips, wanting him to lick her. Gary ignored her hints. He trapped her ankles under his hands, his mouth now on her legs. Kissing and biting. Trailing his tongue up and down her legs, and only lightly nuzzling her sex.

Gwen breathed louder. His tongue was driving her crazy. She was wet. Horny. Needy. By the time Gary finally entered her, she instantly came.

They left for Paris the next day. Paris was everything they had dreamed it would be. They visited the Louvre, the Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Sacré-Cœur. They even went to Disneyland for a day. They walked the different streets of Paris and indulged in lunch on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées and had their portraits drawn by a street artist, paying far more for it than they should have. On their last day in Paris, Gary wanted to go back to the Eiffel Tower. Gwen gladly joined him after they had packed their bags for their early morning departure the next day. The Eiffel Tower at night seemed like the best place to end their three-week vacation.

As the sun set over the capital of France, Gwen and Gary stood at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, looking up at the majestic structure. Gwen had mixed feelings: a pang of sadness knowing they would go home the next day to start their adult lives, but also happiness, because that life would be with Gary.


Gwen averted her eyes from the monumental structure and saw Gary on one knee in front of her. It took her a split second to understand what this was about. She smiled. A huge smile. Gary’s smile matched hers.

“Will you marry me?”

Gwen almost didn’t give Gary a chance to finish the question. She stooped down to her knees and threw her arms around him.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

They left for their hotel some time after. Not only did Gwen now wear an engagement ring, but she also had a pendant hanging from a chain around her neck. Only one word decorated the pendant: Oui.

Gary had bought it for her at the Eiffel Tower souvenir shop.
“Because I want everyone to see you said ‘yes’,” he said.
That last night, they made love in Paris for the last time, vowing to be back for their honeymoon.

Gwen sighed and stood up.

She gathered the file with papers she had trapped under her bag, slung her bag over her shoulder and started walking to the high rise building across the street from the library. She pushed the sad thoughts to the back of her mind and turned her attention to the case she had to prepare for court.

For the past ten years, she had poured herself into her work. After 16 hour working days she went home, ate, slept and returned to office in the early hours of the morning.

Even when enjoying the only thing still giving her a bit of pleasure — the sun — she had her work with her.

Married to her work’, people said, not knowing that her work was the only thing that dulled the pain and sadness she carried with her ever since the day Gary died in that horrible car accident, two months before their planned wedding date.

Note: Story originally posted in July 2015, now updated.

© Rebel’s Notes

10 thoughts on “Memories of Paris

  1. Such a tragic story. For a while Paris was my second favourite city, after Amsterdam, though I liked it less upon the second visit. It’ll always be dear to me.

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