Cal - 14. Chapter 14

It was good getting back to normal, being at home, proper home, with Davey, and going to work. We hadn’t talked too much about what had happened in London with my Mum, but then there didn’t seem to be very much to say. I didn’t have any clear feelings about whether or not I’d see her again, and didn’t much care either way. So no, it wasn’t great, obviously, but it wasn’t bad either. Just, kind of a sad nothing. What we had talked about a lot more though was Christmas. Specifically, Christmas shopping, and Christmas itself. In the end we both had to compromise. Davey really wanted to spend the whole week in some sort of Christmas fantasia family scenario with his Mum and brother down at ‘the London house’. Another thing we hadn’t really talked about. But there was no way I could get all of Christmas week off work, it was going to be busy and we were open every day. So his compromise was that they would all come over to ours for Christmas Eve and stay for a few days. Ben apparently had a girlfriend that we hadn’t met and she was coming too. For my part, the compromise was Christmas shopping.

“But Davey, seriously, I don’t understand how it’s even a thing, how can we need a whole weekend to do Christmas shopping?”

“But it’s Christmas Cal!”

He’s an intelligent guy, kind of quiet, but clever, considered, calm, sensible, rational. These are the kinds of things I associate with Davey. But this? This was like full on Elf. A film that he’d already made me watch. It’s not even December. Yeah, guess what face I was making. I managed to book a weekend off, so we were going to go Christmas shopping.

“So we should pack tonight, because then we can leave straight from work on Friday afternoon yeah? Can you still finish at 2:00pm?”

“Yeah, I said I would. But why do we need to pack? Aren’t we just going in to town? Davey?”

“Ohhh, erm… no baby.”

“Great, I knew it, you’re making us go to London on the first weekend in December, for Christmas shopping? You’re fucking crazy, it’s going to be manic.”

“Erm… yeah. Almost.”

I knew that tone. I looked to Scarlett but she was no help at times like this, she always took his side and refused to tell me.

“What?”

“OK, but don’t be mad Baby. I meant to tell you…”

“What?”

I probably wasn’t going to be mad, I mean, not really. How can I be mad with what is basically an adult sized child?

“We’re not going to London, well, we are, but only briefly.”

“OK…?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

“What?”

“Paris, for Christmas shopping. On Friday. For the weekend.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Uh-huh. I’m crazy in love. Wiv woo.”

“Stop that!”

I gave him a playful shove, he barely moved of course.

“So, back in the real world, why do we have to go to fucking Paris?”

“Have you ever been?”

“Oh yeah, me and the gang we were always popping over to Paris. No you freak, of course I fucking haven’t been.”

“It’s amazing. And, my favourite Christmas shopping shop is there.”

“How can you even have a favourite Christmas shopping shop? That’s not a thing, you know that, right? Can’t you just go to John Lewis like everyone else?”

“No, no, no, no, no. This is better. Much better.”

We agreed to disagree, although more on the principle than anything else. I just don’t get it, but he clearly does. I told Becky at work and she was definitely on his side.

“Oh my god, Paris? That’s so romantic!”

“We’re just going shopping.”

“Oh stop it! If my boyfriend was taking me to Paris I’d be…”

“Wondering if his girlfriend was coming too?”

Becky had been seeing this guy who was, as far as I could tell, a total fucking creep. He has a long term girlfriend and he told Becky straight away that he was cheating on her to be with Becky. And she still see’s him. The only explanation I have been able to come up with is that he must have a very nice cock, because seriously, there’s literally nothing going for him. Becky won’t confirm or deny my suspicions. She gave me a friendly ‘fuck you’ look, because there were customers in. That, and she also knew I was right.

Davey arrived at exactly 2:00pm, and off we went. It wasn't a bad journey or anything, just kind of dull. Train to London, and then the train to Paris, but it still took a few hours. We arrived in Paris just after 9:00pm, it was dark, a little rainy, and somewhat overwhelming. I’m in fucking Paris! Davey got us a taxi to the hotel, and I got to witness yet another thing about Davey I didn’t know. He speaks French. With the taxi driver I just kind of thought nothing of it, he’s apparently been to Paris a lot of times before, so he can probably manage asking for the hotel address or whatever. But as we stood there in the hotel lobby, which was clearly very fucking expensive, I realised I had significantly underestimated him. I guess we were a little late checking in, but it didn’t seem to be going any faster as Davey and the woman at the check-in desk spent at least ten minutes in completely unintelligible conversation, which was, it seemed, engaging, funny, and charming. He has that effect on people. And now he was doing it in French. It’s easy to feel incredibly inferior to him sometimes.

Finally, Davey wandered away with the room cards and we found the lift. Davey put his arm around my shoulders as we stood in the lift, which looked more like a shop display case than any lift I’d ever been in before.

“Are you OK?”

“Sure.”

He was smiling, I liked that.

I didn’t see which button Davey had pressed, but we kept going, up, and up, and up, eventually stopping on floor 15. There were only 15 floors. For a big corridor, there weren’t that many doors, but that made more sense when Davey opened ours and gently pushed me inside in front of him.

“Jesus fuck Davey, what have you done?”

“What?”

I wandered in, trying to take in the new surroundings. There was a lot to take in. For a start, there was more than one room. And I don’t mean like a shitty little corridor space by the door, like, actual rooms. Rooms bigger than our entire fucking flat, well nearly anyway. The lounge looked like something from a magazine cover. All very cool and understated, but fucking nice. Then there were doors off to each side. I chose the right, which was a dining room with a small, by which I mean just normally sized, bathroom off that. I wandered back, and Davey was still just stood there, watching me.

“Do you like it?”

“You know this is completely over the top, right? We’re only here for the weekend!”

“I know, but it’s your first time here and I wanted it to be nice.”

“It would have been nice in a normal hotel Davey. This, this is, I don’t even know what this is.”

Seeing how happy he looked was kinda priceless though.

“Wait until you see this, come on.”

Davey grabbed my hand and led me across the lounge towards the other doorway. I keep saying doorway, and it’s not a good enough description. These are floor to ceiling, like, twenty feet high and eight feet wide doors. Anyway, he pushed them open, pulling me into the bedroom. There was a huge bed, like twice the normal size of a huge bed, the carpet was deep enough to possible become trapped in, and I could see through into an almost as big bathroom. Everything about the space seemed to be designed to be sensual and luxurious, and it made the hotel back at work seem like a series of spare rooms, which it really isn’t.

“OK, come stand here.”

Davey pushed me towards the wall of curtains and then walked over to one side.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see, just… look.”

I didn’t see what he did, but the lights dimmed until they were off, and a low electrical buzzing started. Davey came and stood behind me, his arms around me, pulling me tight against him as the curtains opened to what must be the most expensive fucking view in the whole country. As more and more of the floor to ceiling windows were uncovered, the view just kept getting bigger and bigger. You could see the Eiffel Tower, I mean, the Eiffel Fucking Tower. There are still so many times when I think I must be in a dream.

“Welcome to Paris baby.”

“You’re fucking nuts.”

I turned around in his arms and kissed him, eliciting exactly the sort of response I wanted from him as his hands descended down my back and onto my arse.

“Hmmm, Mr. Carter.”

“Mr. Richardson.”

Davey pushed me backwards against the window, it felt solid enough for us to lean against, which was good because I didn’t much want to be falling through it onto the balcony. Although the way he was kissing my neck as he unbuttoned my shirt was making me feel more like I’d fly than fall. We struggled against each other, fighting between undressing and maintaining maximum contact with each other. I think Velcro is a highly underused clothing fastening option. There was a painful lull whilst we untangled shoes and socks from pushed down trousers and boxers. The momentary hiatus came to a satisfying end as Davey pressed against me again, effectively trapping me between him and the cool glass wall. He was kissing me hard, much like the other parts smashed together between us. His hands travelled down the sides of my body, over my arse and onto my thighs. He pinned me even tighter against the window and I felt the light pressure against my things. Realising that I really wasn't going anywhere, I wrapped my legs around him and moaned loudly into his mouth as it felt so fucking hot. Like he was carrying me, but also pinning me, pretty fucking perfect. Hands on my arse, squeezing, stroking, probing, teasing. He was driving me a little bit crazy and I’m absolutely sure he knew it. I was finding it increasingly difficult not to whimper as his fingers pushed inside me, so I stopped trying and gave in. Of course he stopped way before he made me cum like that, leaving me high and dry and somewhat fucking desperate whilst he went and grabbed lube from his bag. Having made sure we were suitable prepared, I moved over towards the bed, but Davey caught my arm.

“No baby, come here.”

There is something about him which just demands attention, and at times like this, I’m more than happy to comply, it usually ends well for me. More kissing as we went, Davey moved us back to the window. I wasn’t totally sure where he was going with this until he turned me away from him and pressed me hard against the glass. He reached around and made sure my cock was equally trapped between me and the glass before pinning me there with the weight and strength of his whole body. I tried to turn to look at him, but this resulted in the side of my face also being pressed against glass. It was fucking hot, feeling him so strong like that. And it got a lot hotter as I felt his cock pushing hard against my arse, demanding what we both wanted I’m sure. We’ve fucked before, a lot, but in this position, things felt a lot tighter. It was like his cock felt bigger than usual as he pushed up inside me, and just in case that wasn’t going to be enough for me, he started to bite my neck, just slightly too hard to be gentle. There was obviously no place for a long and languid build up, or prolonged teasing, he was fucking me thoroughly, hard, and intense, and it was fucking awesome. A few minutes of this was, unfortunately, all it was taking for me to be struggling. The perfectly fucking awesome job Davey was doing, combined with the added stimulation my cock was getting trapped between my abs and the glass was propelling me into a very happy, and slightly desperate place.

“Ohh fuck Davey, fuck… harder… oh god I’m gonna fucking… Davey!”

He slammed into me another four or five times before I just couldn’t take any more. The cold of the glass on one side, the intense heat of his body on the other, my entire body was tensing and shaking. Davey was fucking growling in my ear as he started to cum, buried inside me, whilst I on the other hand ended up smearing myself and the window with a huge load. Davey kept hold of me, hugging me, pulling me with him as we stepped back and sat on the bed, not wanting to let each other go. After a few minutes I opened my eyes again, and laughed.

“What?”

Davey followed my look towards the window, where my cum was still running down the glass, surrounded by the outlines of hands and bodies.

“That’s kinda hot, and kinda disgusting.”

“Well you made all the mess baby.”

Yeah, I guess I had. Before we went to bed properly I made a token effort at cleaning up, wiping my cum off the glass at least. I know we’re paying people to clean the room, but there’s no reason to leave shit like that.

Waking up in the morning was much harder than usual, mostly because we seemed to have sunk into the depths of comfort both metaphorically and physically, the mattress was just unreal. But Davey was super fucking excited, like, slightly annoyingly so, so he was hard to ignore. We ordered breakfast in the room, it seemed stupid to have a dining table and not make use of it. In the daylight, the view was even more impressive, with the curtains opened in all there rooms there was essentially one huge panorama. And the breakfast was pretty good too.

“So where are we going?”

We’d got a taxi across the city and had now walked a couple of minutes. It was still ridiculously early.

“Here!”

Davey stood and pointed. To be fair, it did look Christmas-y. From the outside Galeries Lafayette was literally fucking covered in tiny white lights, so kind of classy looking, but way over the top. It seemed to be the theme for the weekend, and one that most definitely continued as we walked inside. So if you haven’t been, this place is fucking huge. Like seriously, massive. Within the main shop, a word that no longer means enough for this building, there’s an enormous glass dome covered area, which contained the biggest fuck off Christmas tree I’ve ever seen. It did look pretty fucking impressive, and Davey was borderline ecstatic. We spent probably an hour just wandering around the store, because there was too much to make sense of for me. You can buy, literally, probably anything. Eventually Davey went over to speak to someone in Guest Relations, what kind of shop has a Guest Relations team, and we started actually shopping. What he’d arranged was that basically we just pick stuff, and it will all, as if by magic, appear at our hotel. I though this seemed a bit over the top until it became clear exactly how much shopping we were going to be doing.

Last Christmas, I was in prison, so no shopping required. The year before, I was sharing a flat with a drug dealer who was actually a nice enough guy, but I don’t remember doing any Christmas shopping. We didn’t exchange gifts. The year before, oh, well actually that year I did buy something, for Tyler. A very cute lad who I briefly thought I could actually make some kind of fucking life with, but it didn’t work. It actually ended in a fairly spectacularly shitty way in the end, right before Christmas, but it seems fucking predictable now. He was way too much like me, and way too not like Davey. Anyway, the point is, it’s a really long fucking time since Christmas really meant very much. Davey on the other hand is apparently trying to empty the fucking shop. He was buying presents for people that work for him for like a hundred Euros without hesitation. I can see why people like to work for him if he’s always that generous. And of course, he always fucking is, at least in my experience. By the time we got through his list to actual friends and family, we were well in to crazy money.

We’ve never really talked about money that much. After I got my job I’ve been able to make some kind of contribution to stuff that we do, whenever I can anyway because Davey doesn’t like it when I pay for stuff. I used to worry more about it I guess, but I accidentally saw his bank statement once, and yes, it was a fucking accident, it was in a pile with mine and we have the same bank. Anyway, I didn’t read it in detail because the balance was enough to tell me I had the wrong thing, but seriously, I didn’t need to worry about him spending too much fucking money.

“OK, shall we stop for lunch?”

“Yeah, definitely. Are we eating in here?”

I’d seen a cafe type place once, somewhere.

“Oh, no, come on, lets’ head out for a bit.”

Davey led us outside and along a couple of non-descript looking roads until we arrived at a very typically French looking bistro. I know, quelle suprise. The food was either disproportionally cheap, or disproportionally good, I don’t know which. And of course, Davey ordered wine. Lunch lasted a long time, but there was no reason to rush. However Davey wanted to get back to the shopping.

“OK, so, there’s a couple of things left to get, and also…”

“What?”

“Well, can you, like, never mind, I’ll sort out later.”

“Oh, you want me to disappear for a while so you can buy me a present too?”

“It’s fine, I can order what I want…”

“No, it’s cool Davey, I can go and see some sights while you finish you’re Christmas Shopping fantasy. Just don’t trade me in for a fucking elf OK?”

“Are you sure? I won’t be long I promise.”

“Of course, you go and shop, I’ll be OK. Although…”

“Yes?”

“Can we agree something first?”

“OK?”

“A budget. Can we limit presents for each other to £100 or something, I can’t afford as much as you, so we should even the playing field.”

“Yeah, OK, sure baby. But you know you can just put it on the credit card.”

“That’s entirely not the point.”

“No, sorry, I know what you mean. OK.”

“Cool. Go on then, I’l catch you soon.”

I had a map on my phone, so I could easily manage to find some things to go and see. Davey, of course, took ages, so I had plenty of time to walk down to see the Louvre, the Pompidou Centre, and Norte-Dame before he called me to see where I was. Shortly after, he appeared in a cab, and then we spent another couple of hours sightseeing, since I’d never been to Paris before and I think he felt a bit bad that we’d spent most of the daylight hours in a shop. We ended up underneath the Eiffel Tower, which looked pretty fucking mazing lit up in the dark.

“You know, right at the top there’s a restaurant.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, next time, when we come here properly, we’ll eat there. The food is pretty average but the view is amazing.”

“Cool. So, we’re coming back to Paris?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you want to.”

“Cool.”

We stayed out a bit longer, with Davey showing me lots of the sights before deciding to go and eat dinner. He took us what seemed like miles across the city and to what was the fucking tiniest, but busiest little cafe place I’ve ever seen. We had to wait for an hour for a table because you couldn’t book, but there were a couple of bars nearby so that was easy enough. Yet again, the food was just incredible, and after, we walked back to the hotel, which wasn’t as far as I imagined. I can see what all the fuss is about, it really is a great city. You might even call it romantic.

When we got back to our room the dining room was filled with all the shopping. It was a lot more than I had kept track of.

“How the fuck are we going to take all this home Davey?”

“Oh, we’ll just get the hotel to ship it, it’ll only take a day or two.”

As usual, Davey’s world seemed to work out pretty well, and everything was delivered home a couple of days later. We checked out late on the Sunday before heading home. It had been an interesting, and slightly tiring weekend and I was happy to be back in the more predictable world of work.

“So he didn’t propose to you? I was sure he was going to.”

I’ve learnt that Becky often has unrealistic expectations in life.

“No, of course he didn’t. It was pretty cool though, we’re going to go back.”

“And what did you buy?”

“I just told you, half the shop I think.”

“No, stupid, for him. What are you getting Davey for Christmas?”

I chose to bypass all of the flippant answer for presents I could give Davey for Christmas. Although some of those ideas I should definitely save for later.

“Actually, nothing yet, I have no idea.”

“Seriously? You know it’s only a couple of weeks away?”

“Yeah, I know. It’ll be fine, you worry too much.”

I did have one idea, that I couldn’t quite get rid of. But realistically, it was way too soon for that kind of thing. It’s not like we’re lesbians or something. We don’t have to rush into everything.