Mr 'France'

"Zu alone at zer club?"

His French lips close to my ear and his cheeks almost close enough for his brustles to tickle my face. I've a dark confession other than being secretly guilty of wearing more than 4 colours on friday night. I've never had a white dick.

I've the slightest interest to pick up that habit, even when I've heard tons of bedroom purrs from close friends and eavesdropping in the changing rooms. Yet something, ok it was the champagne, that time of the month and his alluring accent that made me decide to play SPG for the night.

"Waiting for my girlfriends, they're in the ladies." I said.

"Zu think zat I can perhaps buy zu a drink? No?"

I looked at him, wondering why he ended with such negativity when he started out with so much more confidence.

"Huh? No? Of course you can!" I was almost guilty of being overtly easy.

I guess he was quite pleased with my answer because he was grinning about it all night.

Judy came back shortly after I was into my first sip of Bellini and i quickly introduced her to my new French prey. She shot me 'That' look like she did when I told her I thought MrD was hot. MrFrench wasn't your run of the mill Prada print model, the ones with insanely chiselled jaw lines and deep set eyes, but I thought he was decently presentable. Judy obviously didn't share my sentiments.

"Are you sure he's French? He doesn't sound too French."

"Of cos he is! He told me he was." I defended.

Judy slided in between as casually as her size 4 frame allowed and before I even finished my she turned back to me.

"He's from Frankfurt." She said,

"Yep, I know."

"Mylene darling, Frankfurt isn't in France..."