With apologies to the producers of "Going PLaces". If you've seen it you know this French movie follows the adventures of two petty thieves. I've always tried to imagine what was going on in the mind of the young mother who was nursing her baby. This is one possibility.
I know I'm not very sexy, less than normal for a girl my age. And I suppose I'm very shy. Still, like any proper French girl below the age of thirty, I consider it my duty in life to provide males with an attractive image of myself. An American girl might think I'm intentionally provocative. One of their feminists would probably say I'm brainwashed by my culture. But that's silly. I'm a part of my culture, nothing else. If a Frenchman gives me the once over, I'm supposed to smile. I'd rather die than not respond the way he expects. It means nothing, but we both enjoy it, so there's certainly no harm either. A French girl doesn't meet a man's eyes unless he wants her to look at him. Of course we sneak lots of peeks when he's not looking at us. So we know when to look the other way so he can look at us without being distracted or embarrassed. We all love this game. American girls practically have to enter beauty contests to enjoy the type of attention French girls crave and often get.
But I'm not exceptional. So I've never gotten all that much male interest. I'm small, and my tits even small for my size. I'm very slim, even in the hips, so I don't have much of a figure to advertise. I guess during my pregnancy I filled out a little, however, and now have an almost sexy figure. I also have a three month old baby whom I adore tremendously. I love my husband for getting me knocked up. I loved him even before he got me knocked up, but not for very long.
Our's was almost an arranged marriage. We didn't have to go through with it but we liked each other and had no other prospects. I was a virgin at the altar. Which makes me a little backward for a nineteen year old French girl. When Pierre took me that night, I stopped liking him and immediately began loving him. It was like love at first sight, in this case love at first fuck. I can't believe I just wrote that! I've never even been able to say the word out loud. It makes me blush even to hear it. But oh do I love doing it!
Pierre is only five centimeters taller than me, skinny and wears these dark rimmed glasses. Not very imposing, especially for a soldier. Even in his uniform he doesn't look the part. But most men in the army have specialities and few are expected to fight in unarmed combat. Pierre could probably kill someone with a rifle as well as the next guy in line. In his case it would probably be some high tech weapon, however. He doesn't seem brainy but is by army standards. You can see why I didn't fall madly in love with him when I first laid eyes on him. Well there was nothing wrong with his fertility. Or mine. I had my baby nine and a half months after we got married.
Pierre isn't an officer and doesn't rate married living accomodations. I live with my parents, and visit him when he can get leave, even if it's only a weekend. The hotels we book into aren't fancy. But if there are clean sheets on the bed who cares? When I'm not nursing or sleeping I want to be on the bed with my legs wide apart with my husband between them. I know Pierre's not the sexiest of men. But he's the only man I've ever had, and I'm more than satisfied. Having said this, I must admit that what happened to me on the way to visit him the last time was very exciting.
When some people came in the car I didn't look up immediately. Michael was nursing and I'd just changed him to my left nipple. I'd been alone in the car and hadn't bothered to cover my right nipple while doing this. Anyway, nobody minds if a nursing woman flashes her nipples. When I heard them approaching me I looked up and at the same time shrugged my dress up over my exposed nipple. Most people would have sat somewhere else in the empty car so I pretty much expected trouble when I looked up from my nursing and saw two rugged looking men leering at me, giving my chest special attention.
Of course, most of my life I've craved male attention. And these men were interesting. Not handsome, but a girl knows when she's looking at a guy who could really give her a good ride. Even a virgin would feel it in her pussy seeing two guys like this looking at her. I wasn't much more than a virgin. But I knew the joy of having a man inside me. Worse, I'd been nursing, which does something to a girl's hormones. When you feel milk flowing out your nipples you just naturally want to replace it with cume in your pussy.
Still, this was way beyond flirting. These guys were trying to intimidate me which is easy to do. I'm even more shy than most French girls. They were also turning me on which I couldn't help. But I swore to myself I wouldn't let them know it. Michael wasn't done feeding, but he'd had enought to keep him happy. I took him from my breast and covered myself, put him in the baby bag, and tried to get up. But one of the men was leaning forward blocking me. I sat back not knowing how to react. I couldn't threaten him. That would have been ridiculous. I just had to sit there and see what he'd demand. The worst he could do was rape me, and my vagina was already voting for that option. Shut up vagina!
He leaned back and started telling me to let "Jesus" finish eating. Then he started offering me money to let them see my breasts. I'm sure he knew that at a topless beach I'd have willingly made sure he got a good view. But here where it was inappropiate such compliance would mean much more than simple display. While he was leaning back enjoying his own clever remarks I quickly grabbed my travel bag and the baby bag and squeezed by him, making my way to the other car.
It was also empty, and I was trapped. I sat Michael's bag one seat away from me, and sat down in the next bench awaiting whatever the men planned to do to me. I didn't have to wait long.
The first man squeezed past me and sat next to me pressing his body hard against mine. I think I managed to hide the pleasure I felt. I was scared and excited. But I wasn't too scared. I thought it very unlikely they would hurt me, other than raping me. I wondered what a man other than Pierre would feel like. I wondered what two men in a row would feel like. God, if they were going to do it I hoped they both did it. If a girl is going to get raped she might as well get the most pleasure possible out of it. Something to make up for the embarrassment. Perhaps there wouldn't be any embarrassment. Maybe I wouldn't have to tell Pierre, keep it my own private little secret.
Apparently I was a better actress than I expected. The men could have had me by just demanding I take my clothes off. But instead the one in charge started talking about his buddy needing milk. He would pay me for nursing his buddy. I sat there pretending to be afraid while the second man unbuttoned my blouse, unhooked my bra and, much too slowly for my satisfaction, exposed my now almost respectable glands. I'd had far less opportunity than desired to do this myself. The man bent forward and kissed my right nipple. He then sucked starting gently. Meanwhile the one sitting next to me with his arm around my shoulder reached down and began tweaking my left nipple. My panties were by then soaking.
When my milk started flowing into his mouth I lost it completely. I could no longer pretend I didn't love what was happening. It was almost as pleasurable as getting fucked and even more exciting. I grabbed the man's head and crushed it to my breast, kissing the top of his head. Several times I looked up at my other assailant who was still manipulating my left breast, now with a surprised look on his face. I smiled encouragement at him and went back to carressing my first lover, the one sucking milk out of my right nipple. Suddenly, horribly, he leaned back leaving my eager nipple exposed to the cold air, and announced that he "still couldn't get it up".
I had no idea what his problem was. He seemed young and interested in females. I was very disappointed. At best it looked like only the other one would be available to finish what they'd started. I'd been so involved with being ravished that I'd paid no attention to where we were. The train was slowing down for my stop! I jumped up, grabbed Michael and my bags, and made my way to the door while buttoning up my blouse. It never occurred to me that they wouldn't let me go. They might rape me, but they were much too nice to make me miss my stop.