The French Kiss (#1 of #2)

I know it's my birthday, but this one was done for a few days now and now just seemed right to upload it! Anyway, after releasing Susan's wedding and chatting through some of the comments... it was kinda the straw that broke the camel's back in terms of realization.

For the past few months (longer even), I've struggled to write the longer stories for any reoccurring characters. I kinda remedied it by having scenes have less story (like the Susan timeskip entries, and the upcoming Ivana one), or let others write for it. But it's been going on for way too long, chatting with friends helped me understand it a little bit but not much.

But thanks to a late night stream of WhosThisGuyEh, some really nifty ideas were planted into my head. That following day my brain was fired up and I made that lady with a fully fledged story! In the end I had no trouble writing it (very much like Jump in the Deep End, another standalone) and it was really fun! What I will do however is try to limit the amount of scenes, as I don't want another Millie situation where I promised multiple sizes but the writing just never took off. In the end it should just be a short one-off character with the potential to continue, if I want it to.

But that's enough of a ramble from me, here's the story down below!

(and yes she is the older sister of this gal: Quickies - Another Attempt at Hips)

(Folder for alt angles)

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It was just another day at work for Connor, it wasn’t easy being the boss as well as the bartender. He scrubbed away the remaining residue off one of the beer bottles as he scanned the bar. All he could spot were some regulars drinking away their sorrows, a couple and a group of friends hanging out. Connor wondered if they had met up prior, as they were almost perfectly spread throughout the narrow corridor that made up his bar.

He reached for the cloth resting on his shoulder and started cleaning the glass. Wrapping the cloth around the glass and twisting it feeling it’s defined edges. Without realizing, he found himself in some sort of trance.

Before he knew it, someone was standing at the bar. From the corner of his eye he could clearly see the person was staring directly at him. With the now extremely clean glass in hand, he walked over to her.

“What can I get ya miss?” Connor said in his usual, friendly tone. Only after he spoke the words, did he spot her immense curves from the corner of his eyes. Her captivating sapphire-tinted eyes looked right back at him. The lady gave a warm smile.

“Bonjour monsieur. I must say, I do like what you’ve done with this place, as tiny as it is.” She looked at the rack of various alcoholic beverages behind him. A vast majority of them were meant for mixing, a specialty of Connor’s despite it not being a cocktail bar.

“Oh? How so?”

“Well…” She moved her hand from her hip- or thigh, Connor wasn’t quite sure, to the bar. While leaning on it, she looked to her side. “This place is pretty much dead. A Friday evening and this is the kind of numbers you bring in?”

Connor’s mood soured. Who the hell did she think she was? Just casually barging in and shitting on his life’s work? He cleared his throat. “And here I thought you were going to give me a compliment.”

The lady raised her eyebrow. “I was and still am intending to. Your decoration of the place is clearly top-notch, as is your assortment over there on the wall.” She took one hand off the table and slowly swept it across the bar. “Even this bar… magnifique... Give me your best drink.”

Connor kept a straight face and chuckled, knowing exactly which drink to make. “Gotcha. Coming right up, miss...”

“Allaire.” She replied with a lingering tone, bringing two bar stools together before sitting on them. The leather of the stools creaked as they got enveloped by her massive butt, the sound indistinguishable to him. “And might I ask for your name?”

“Connor.” He was already reaching out for his bar special on the second row. “So tell me, why does a beautiful french lady like yourself come to this… dead place?”

"Business." She looked at his toned body as Connor put up quite the display. He tossed a liquor bottle behind him, catching it with his other hand and gracefully twisting it to the shaker. The liquid continued to pour out as he gradually raised the bottle higher and the shaker lower. He whipped the bottle back to its side, twirling it alongside the shaker in a figure-eight. In between he launched the shaker up, letting it rotate a full loop before catching it again. In between the movements he had done a million times, he caught a glimpse of an impressed lady. Only then did he process what she said.

"...business?" Allaire simply smiled at him, prompting to think it over. "Oh I see. You're looking to invest?"

Her smile broadened. "Oui. You clearly know your craft, and you're passionate about it. The circumstances just haven’t been in your favor."

"I appreciate the sentiment… Allaire. Though I'm fortunate enough to pay the bills with work that I love, not a lot of people that can say that."

She narrowed her eyes. “And you’re fine living like this the rest of your days?”

“I didn’t say that.” He put the shaker down and turned around to grab two bottles from the rack.  “Let’s say I’m interested, right? I’d like to know more about this… investor before I consider such an endeavor.”

“Very well, my full name is Allaire Archambeau. I trust you’ve heard of the Archambeau family?”

Connor’s eyes jumped wide, he turned the bottles back to stop them from pouring. “The one that owns that art museum and that uh… university?” Allaire’s wink was all but the confirmation he needed.

“That’s my father’s handiwork. My mother helps with that, while my little sister… is a bit of a rebel. Really athletic, my little mon trognon… I, on the other hand, am much more interested in bringing other works of art to the forefront. Diamonds in the rough. Those that just need a bit of polish before they really shine.”

“And for you to cash in on?” Connor bluntly said. He closed the lid on the shaker and started shaking it back and forth.

“Money is not really a concern for me, mon beau. Of course turning a profit is good, but I’m mainly in it to see the true works of art get the spotlight they deserve.”

Connor pulled a very wide, short cocktail glass from under and with a sieve, started to pour the shaker’s content into it. It was a very intense orange color, with white foam sitting on top. Allaire was silent as she kept looking at his craft. After he finished pouring he started decorating it with dashes of syrup, leaves and two cherries pierced by a stick. He finished it off with a spray of Bacardi. Finally, he carefully slid the cocktail closer to her.

The dimmed mood of the bar did little to hide her whisper. “Magnifique…” Allaire pulled it closer to inspect the details of the craft. Her eyes narrowed and she looked up. Connor had his arms crossed and winked. “I wasn’t the only one to come prepared. So… please enjoy, miss Archambeau.”

She nodded silently, carefully picking up the cocktail glass and taking a sip from it. Allaire let it roll on the tongue for a moment, smacking with her lips to bring out the taste more. Yet again she nodded, her head bobbing back and forth with her upper body following suit. Her necklace bouncing against her collarbone.

“I must say… very impressive, Connor. It has a very refined taste. A very gentle, delicate taste but with layers of sweetness yet it has that punch. Just the right amount of it.”

Connor tried his best to contain how much he enjoyed watching Allaire describe the taste. He was leaning far forwards on the bar, watching as she took another sip. Followed by another, this time she drank over half of the liquid. She licked her lips at her own, leisurely pace. Even the way she did that looked calm and refined to Connor, she was a rich lady through and through. But one with class and consideration of others.

Allaire ate one of the cherries with similar grace before leaning forwards on the bar, her bountiful breasts clearly squishing on it. “What is the name you’ve given this drink? I need to know.”

“The French Kiss.”