All Comments on 'The French Girl'

I love your writing - as elegant and sexy as Chloe herself ...

Loved everything about it. The flavor of Spain, the lust and the love, the languid pace. I started singing "And I love you so, the people ask me how...how I've lived 'till now. I tell them I don't know." Pretty romantic, wouldn't you say?" P.S., I'm a guy. An old one. 5 stars, and I hope you write more.

That was really well done. Beautifully written, the words poured like poetry and created an atmosphere that could be felt.

Two sentences that seem to be a "lesser" form of reference than many of the others throughout the story. They are . . . "I pressed my lips against her cunt to taste her" & "The cocktail of our juices fed my eager clit that was being embraced by her small neat cunt." The more palatable expressions like "the sweet spot blossoming in her crotch," or "lips were a lovely shade of pink," to point out just a few of this readers preferred references.

For this 75+ male while there are many stories the use of the "C" word fit perfectly but not in this romantic, caring, loving story.

Enjoyed the story and thanks for writing it and for posting it for us.

With all due respect to the 75+ year-old anonymous poster who objected to what he described as "the 'c' word", I think the use of "cunt" in the context of the story is fine. For some reason, in the U.S. the word has become a vicious epithet. But to me, it's an earthy, and even loving epithet for a woman's most private parts. Look like all euphemisms, it can be overdone and when used harshly, offensive. But when one woman uses that word to describe herself or her lover (and the "woman" I refer to in this case is the narrator in the story), I'm perfectly find with it. It made me shiver in pleasure a little. I appreciate the sensibility of the other poster, but I just disagree in this case.

Nice. Very nice. I would love to see a story featuring them together next summer.

Your slow build up made the story even more erotic. May I ask that they meet again the following summer? Five Stars

In all other forms of writing the "C" word is offensive but in erotica it fits in. Tell the story as you feel it and to hell with convention. These are the thoughts of yet another Septuagenarian

Hot, sexy and juicy. This deserves a second chapter.

Fantastic story. Slowly you reveal her inner sexual feelings, until she knows what she wants.

loved the story, and the character descriptions. wish it was longer! please make more with depth and a build up :)

I loved your description of where this occurred -- subtle details that seemed to mirror the pace of two women savoring their mutual attraction. Well done!

HOT!!!

What a hot story! Yum! :)

An excellent read and one I found I had to finish straight away. Apart from the odd little mistake here and there (which the majority of stories on here all have) I thoroughly enjoyed it all. Will now read your other works when time permits but well done with this effort. Was easy to become immersed in and visualize.

Made me read without missing a word. Excellent narration. Would love to read more like this.

Love your style and can’t wait to finish all your stories in

Really enjoyable story. Good build up and hot action make for a great combination. I like your writing style.

And another, er, thumbs-up for the c word from me. Gave me a little delicious frisson as I read that section.

fuck me like that please

Phew! I'm fanning myself, this was hot! Thank you for sharing it with us.

So beautifully sucking fucking hot. Two beautiful red hot women with sex crazed cunts. I am wet through.

Delicieux!

This is the neat little summer tale of a sapphic tryst while on vacation in Spain. The female narrator, a graphic designer and avid sketcher, is pleasantly surprised to find her unknown neighbor sunning in the nude on the balcony next to her apartment one day. Soon the two women get to know each other better, start partying together, and, of course, the neighbor eventually wants to get sketched herself by the narrator, which only leads to what it must naturally lead to . . .

Sure, this is all quite alright, but, to be honest, it is also a little too predictable and a tad too shallow for my liking. The neighbor character, the eponymous French girl by the name of Chloe (shouldn’t that rather be Chloé to be pedantically precise?), is little more than a beautiful body, to be admired, desired, and, finally, relished by Vanessa, the narrator. In feminist literature there exists the term of the “male gaze:” here, I think, the female gaze is not all too different from what is purportedly a model case of “toxic masculinity.” That the Chloe character has no apparent motivation for effectively offering herself to Vanessa only underscores her missing depth or one-dimensionality: she exists merely as a sexual object for the pleasure of the female narrator. (And by introducing the narrator at the story’s conclusion to the pleasures of tribadism, she ultimately only helps to increase the pleasure the narrator gains from associating with her.)

For that matter, the narrator herself, Vanessa, remains mostly a cipher too. She is vaguely American, vaguely artsy, vaguely lonesome, and vaguely unpretty (if only because she constantly stresses Chloe’s beauty). Why did she come to Europe? What did she do there “backpacking” alone all these weeks? Doesn’t she have any friends? No Instagram even (does she even possess a phone at all)? What then does she want from life? What did she expect from ending her “travels” in Marbella, Spain?

There is not a single answer to any of these questions. These questions simply cannot be answered because there is nothing in the female narrator’s character that would even slightly indicate anything more specific than the vague traits enumerated above. Is she even a genuine character then? Well, not much more at any rate than the object of her desire, Chloe, for her only genuine character trait seems to be her desire for the eponymous French girl, which, as a character, makes Vanessa effectively as one-dimensional as the object of her desire itself.

What about the sex then? Well, the action is there, without question, and of course both women get to enjoy their respective orgasms, but to my mind it is all strangely devoid of feelings, g e n u i n e feelings, for these characters simply have no character: no history, no motivation, no life on the page—nothing beyond their “legs wrapped around each other and the lips of [their] cunts softly touching each other.”

They are all body, no soul: action without reason, a semi-literary veneer (simulating depth by alluding to the works of Pablo Picasso and Oscar Wilde) with no tangible substance underneath.

But it all reads quite fluidly and seamlessly, that is true.

—AJ

I wish the scissoring would’ve been longer.

~val