Alex normally didn't stick to his new year's resolutions.

So when he'd made the decision to learn French in the new year,

he hadn't expected to stick with it past February. He thought he'd learn a few simple

phrases and then cancel his lessons. But then he met Juliet. She was his French teacher, a woman a few

years older than him, with chestnut brown hair and the prettiest

dresses Alex had ever seen. She was different than American women in so many ways. She had

moved to the U.S. from France 15 years ago, and had been making a living giving French lessons

ever since. You made it past the two-month mark, laughed Juliet one Thursday evening, when

Alex showed up at her home office for his lesson. I'm proud of you. I'm fieufeu'er de

T'rault.

Alex had to admit that hearing Juliet speak French was incredibly sexy.

The words rolled off her soft, supple lips like butter,

and he could have listened to her speak French for hours.

They dove into their lesson while the open

windows allowed in a gentle spring breeze and the sound of crickets. The smell of Juliet's sweet,

flowery perfume wafted by Alex's face and made him shudder. He was just about to speak up to Juliet what he'd been feeling about her,

when suddenly she was turning his head to the side and giving him a delicate kiss.

I hope that's okay, she said when she pulled away. I've been wanting to do that for weeks

now, came his reply. The energy between them immediately shifted after that. Juliet pulled

Alex onto the chaise lounge by the open window. His mouth connected to hers,

their tongues intertwining as he reached his hands up underneath her pleaded dress. His fingers ran

across her pussy through the thin material of her panties, and Juliet moaned

...