A New Life by Umbrellas in Paris by Dee Thatcher

A New Life With Umbrellas In Paris
by Dee Thatcher

My name is Candace and I moved to Paris exactly one year ago to this day. Did I speak French? No, but it certainly wasn't required of me for the job I took. It was a big move and a bold one at that. I left a small town in Western Canada. Paris is the most opposite place to my hometown that I could think of. I took the job because it was going to really boost my career and I knew it would be exciting to finally see new places and meet new people. So I was all excited when I landed in Paris. I was more excited to see my apartment, and very nervous about my first impressions at my new job.

It turns out that I had a right to be nervous about my first day on the job. My co-workers wanted nothing to do with me. At first, I thought it was because I was new and it is always a hassle to train a new person. But as the behavior continued into the 6-month mark, I started to get the bigger picture. They didn't care how good I was for the job or how well I did it. The bottom line is that I'm not French, I'm not from a large and cultured city, and I am almost half the age of most of my co-workers. And in the fashion industry, these are basic requirements.

This being said, when I moved to new towns in the past, I made friends with co-workers first. This is, naturally, where I spent most of my time. And, usually, those co-workers would introduce me to their friends and I'd slowly gain a social life this way.

So, I realized that I wasn't going to make any friendships in the workplace, and I spent most of my evenings alone. Sometimes I went to the coffee shop on the corner, I had translated the whole menu onto a flash card, which I kept in my purse. And I always try to do an outing on the weekends. Like pretending to be a tourist. Pretending to be a tourist was actually what kept me sane. There were constant tours going around the city specifically for Americans, Canadians and people from the UK. I'd make quick friends of some of these people and I reveled in talking to someone with the same basic culture and language. Sometimes, we'd meet up and do fun things together, but it always ended within a two-week period. And then I was alone again, sipping my mocha at the corner shop.

And it was at the corner shop that I met Simone. It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday when I met her. She introduced herself to me, I think more out of necessity than inspiration. The coffee shop was full and I had a table all to myself with an empty chair. I remember that day vividly. I had been lost in thought, typing away at my journal on my laptop when this tall and beautiful middle-aged woman was standing at the empty chair and smiling. She introduced herself and made pleasant conversation about the weather and how crowded the coffee shop was. And of course, she asked if she could sit down. I was only too pleased to agree. This was the first native to actively seek a conversation with me. I smiled back and we exchanged stories about how we both came to Paris and when. Its turns out that Simone is a country girl herself, coming from an area outside a Nunce, France. She is a divorcee and her condo in Paris was awarded to her as part of the divorce settlement. I asked Simone what she did for a living, and she told me about her catering business. And suddenly becoming aware that we had been speaking in English the entire time, I asked her how she knew that I didn't speak French. Simone said that she had been watching me come in with my flash cards for six months. W e both had a laugh and when all was said and done, she invited me over for a visit on the following Wednesday.

I dressed in semi-casual attire and bought a bottle of wine, unsure whether she'd forgive my choice, and I walked the two blocks to Simone's condo building. The scrap of paper that she had written on said 1206, and I showed the paper to the man at the front desk. He asked me for my name in French and I was thankful, my French was good enough to reply correctly. He dialed up and nodded his permission for me to take the elevator. Once on the twelfth floor, I followed the directions to a taupe door at the end of a dimly lit hallway. This place wasn't new, but it was very well kept. I knocked on the door and Simone answered holding a glass of wine, and for a moment, I felt relief about my choice in wine because if she had already been drinking, she'd be less likely to discriminate my wine.

The front door entered right in the living room where, I could tell, everything had been excruciatingly put in its right place. Indeed, this could have been a picture out of a home design magazine. The only thing that lent ease to this environment was Simone. She casually flopped on a couch and gestured for me to take the one opposite of her. Simone gave me a glass of her favorite merlot. Whereupon, I sheepishly said, "Er, this is for you."

Simone thanked me and set it aside with only a slightly concerned look and returned to smile at me. "So, how are you Candice? I hope everything is well?"

"Very well, my proposal flew through at the meeting today and I think that we're going to take it to the next step, and you, how are you?"

"I am very well, thank you. My work has been slow, but I don't mind, it gives me more time to do things like this" And she acknowledged our visiting.

I smiled in reply to this gesture and our evening went smoothly. Simone let me taste a few of her new appetizer creations and we told stories about anything and everything. Often, we laughed about how similar our lives were, even though we grew up on different sides of the pond. I was having a wonderful time.

The grandfather clock struck 10:00 and chimed away. I realized it was getting late.

Well, Simone, I have had an absolutely fabulous time, we should do this again."

"Yes, we should, but your not leaving are you, the evening is young!"

"Well, I'm okay, but I thought that you might be wanting to finish things for the evening. I didn't want to appear rude and overstay my welcome."

" How can I think of you as rude? I've been having a great time and I want to continue. Do you want to stay for a while longer?"

"Sure." I said and smiled at her. Simone returned the smile shifted on her couch. She seemed to be in some discomfort. She pulled at the bottom of her blouse to straighten it and that was the first time that I had really taken in how busty Simone was. Well rounded, maybe passed a Double D, but perfect for her height. I think she is around five foot seven. We chatted for a while longer about favorite movies and such and I began to notice that her shifting around was happening more and more. Two wet spots were appearing on her blouse in front of her breasts.

Simone caught my glance and put her glass down on the table. " I need to take care of something, I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all"

Simone disappeared into the hallway to the left and came out holding the hand of a young woman around 24 years of age. I was a little taken aback at the sight of the young woman because she was dressed in a little girl jammy set with teddy bears printed on it and wearing what looked to be a diaper. Her hair was short and tied in a bow and she huddled close to Simone in a shy child-like way.

"Candice, this is Claire. Claire and I have a special relationship that not a lot of people understand. And if it is all right with you, I need to feed Claire."

I was a little shocked, but in the spirit of open-mindedness and maybe a lack of knowing what else to do I agreed and pretended there wasn't a problem. Simone sat down on the couch and Claire laid down so that her head rested on Simone's lap. Simone unbuttoned her shirt to show a nursing bra and undid the flap of her right cup. Once the breast was freed, Simone guided her nipple to Claire's mouth and she latched on. And as Claire fed, Simone gave me a detailed history of how they met and how she came to know that this was for her. I paid attention as best I could with this performance before me trying to steal my attention. And when Simone finally finished and took Claire to her room. I sighed in relief. I decided to pretend like nothing happened. It was just easier this way. Besides, this was the only friend I have that permanently resides in Paris. I wasn't quite ready to write it off.

The clock chimed 11:00 and I got up to leave. I said my thanks and compliments and she did the same. I walked home, not sure what to think and I didn't see Simone for another four days.

I was wasting away another Sunday afternoon at the coffee shop. This time I wasn't journaling, but staring out the window. It was raining and it was neat to look at all the different umbrellas. If there were a place for designer umbrellas, it would be Paris. I chortled at the thought and then my thoughts ran to something else. Something I hadn't thought about since the night it happened. I thought of Simone and her Adult Baby. I heard about it and read about it on the Internet, but never in my life did I think I'd meet someone who was into it. Not that I had a problem with it, its just that, well I couldn't understand the diaper thing myself. One of the jobs I worked to get myself through college was that of a caregiver. And the last thing I would want to do by choice and for fun, would be to change an adult's diaper. When I was on the job, it was part of the job, but I couldn't quite grasp how Simone and Claire thought of it differently. I shrugged it off and in the spirit of open-mindedness, I decided that the misunderstanding was my problem, not theirs. And I wasn't going to inflict my opinion on them.

A cherry coloured umbrella passed by the window. It had many black spots and succeeded in making its owner look like a ladybug. I smiled and continued my umbrella watching. My thoughts shifted back to that night at Simone's, I couldn't get over how relaxed and, for lack of a better word, secured Claire looked. And Simone, she looked to be in complete comfort as she enjoyed Claire. Claire looked as though the world around her had disappeared. I wondered how it felt to have that security and love. And I even started to wonder how I might enjoy a go at it myself.

I was woken from this thought by drops of cold water landing on my arms and when I looked up, I saw Simone. She apologized for getting me wet with her umbrella and mentioned that she thought I might need the splash by the look of me.

I was stunned to see her. Here I was stealing a thought of her, evening beginning to experiment with the idea of me nursing at her breast and she walks in! I felt caught in the act, even though I knew that she couldn't read my thoughts. We exchanged polite "How Do's" and shared what we were both up to. Then came the silence that afflicts most conversations. I broke it with, "What are you doing this Saturday?"

"I have no plans."

" I won two tickets to that new musical in the company draw, would you like to join me?"

" Oh, a musical, you know, I haven't actually been to one."

"No, in cultured gay Paris!" I said in a sarcastic tone and we both laughed. "The show starts at seven, how about we share a cab. We can meet here, its central."

"That would be fantastic. Oh, my order is up, I have to run some errands, Candice, but it was nice to see you. I'll see you on Saturday." And with that she re-entered the rain sodden streets and disappeared from my sights.

This was good, I felt comfortable with this. We would not start or end at either party's house and there for avoid the awkwardness of Simone's lifestyle.

The week went fast and with my proposal being accepted at work, this meant lots of extra hours. After all, this was my baby and I was going to make it shine. I had neglected going shopping for groceries and the only thing I managed was to get my dress cleaned before the show. Saturday evening, I had a quick snack after work and switched to formal attire. I wondered what Simone might wear. With her long wheat-blonde hair and striking blue eyes, I supposed that she might wear several colors well. Not like me, its earth tones and.earth tones is all that looks good on me. I grabbed the tickets and went to the coffee shop, feeling very strange walking down the street in an evening gown. Simone came from inside the shop wearing a silk dress that was a very simple princess line cut with a criss cross of silver blue material to hold each breast. She finished it off with a shear shawl and she looked stunning. Well, we both did. Having exchanged compliments, we got into our cab and went to the show.

We both came out raving about the show. I didn't understand every word, but I got the humor and Simone, laughed until she had stitches in her side. After the show, she was begging me to stop mentioning all of the funny stuff. Although, I couldn't help it, how often does one go to a show?

We hailed our cab and, having discovered that neither of us ate a real supper, I invited her to my apartment to share in my "world famous" take-out. I can't cook. Simone agreed and once at my house we both freed ourselves from our high heels and accessories. Simone promptly found my couch and flopped out on it and I found the take-out menu and ordered Chinese.

Simone and I had a drink while we waited for the Chinese food and once it arrived we could not be stopped. I like this Simone; she's down to earth.

"Simone, you wouldn't mind terribly if I got more comfortable clothes on, would you?"

"Of course not, you go ahead."

"Did you want me to lend you something? You can return it later."

"Actually, that would be nice. Just a t-shirt and pants if you have them in my length."

"How about stretch yoga capris?"

"Perfect", Simone took her clothing and went to change and I changed into pajama pants and an old t-shirt. We both sighed once we were back at the couch and I broke the silence.

"So, um, where is Claire while you go out for a night on the town. I hope you don't think I'm being too nosy?"

Simone brushed the comment away and said, " She's back at the Uni, and we only get together once every two weeks, which sucks because all I do is pump in between visits. Maybe in the summer we will have more time."

I nodded and tried to think of something else to say.

Simone thought of something first. "Have you tried it?"

"Tried what?"

Simone gestured towards her chest.

"Uh, no. Can't say that I have." I managed a smile, but I knew it was unsuccessful.

"Well, your very welcome to, believe me you'd be doing me favor. All I have to look forward to when I get home is that blasted machine."

"Uh, well, I can't. Not that I think there is anything wrong with it..."

Simone broke in, " its just that it is against the norm and it scares you that you might like to try it." Simone broke a rueful smile.

I had no choice, but to blurt out, "But, I'm really not into that adult baby stuff. Really, I'm sorry!"

Simone began to lift her shirt, "I didn't say you were into Adult baby stuff, as you say, I just thought perhaps you'd like at try at breastfeeding, seeing as how you seemed so fixated on my breasts while Claire was feeding."

"I was not, I mean, I certainly didn't mean to be rude. Please forgive me, it was just something I hadn't seen before."

"Breasts", she responded wryly.

In exasperation, I replied, "No, and you know what I mean."

"Yes I do, but did you know that some adults breastfeed to enjoy the closeness and the feeling. They do this and they don't role play being mommies and babies."

I guess I looked a little sheepish at this rebuttal, Simone continued, "I will help you. I will talk you through it. It will be okay..." she began to work her nipple to start the flow. I started to realize that I wasn't getting out of it. And I was scared, but I was excited too. "...I might call you cherished names, but only because I enjoy it so. We will let it go where we want to. We won't prejudge it with rules. If you decide you like it and we continue, you will decide then or further onward if it should be adult or far more innocent. Oui?"

I made no attempt to reply. Simone saw my shock and took my arm to pull me in towards her. I laid my head on her lap as Claire had done and Simone guided her nipple towards my mouth and pulled my head towards it. For some reason a made to struggle. Perhaps, one last attempt to hold on to the life I knew was going to change with this moment. All Simone did was say a whispered tsk tsk. She talked me through correcting my latch and once my tongue was in the right position, I began to suck. I tasted a small amount of the sweet milk and as the nipple elongated into my mouth it reached a spot on the back of my tongue and it caressed the roof of my mouth. It was ecstasy. The more and more I sucked; the more and more I enjoyed the feeling. I kept my eyes close and I felt more and more milk flowing into my mouth. Simone began whispering encouragements and every once in a while she'd say, "that's a good girl." And I didn't mind, so long as she didn't make me stop feeding.

I had nursed the second breast the same as the first and afterwards, I was in a dreamlike bliss, I vaguely remember being asked to go to bed and when I woke up the next morning, I thought it had been a dream. A really good dream too. But when I rolled over to see the light in the window, there was Simone in my T-shirt. She was on her side and up on one arm. She was smiling at me. How long had she been watching me sleep? Then it dawned on me that it wasn't a dream.

"Simone, did we...um", I broke off feeling confused.

"I can answer all of your questions, Candice darling, but first you must help me with this." And she lifted her shirt to reveal two gorgeous leaking breasts.

Until Next Time!

Dee Thatcher
04/02/2008

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