Black Girl in France (Travel Interracial Romance)

You won’t believe who one black woman meets in France!

Paris truly is the city of love for this black woman!

Black and beautiful, Olivia has needed a vacation for a long time. Romance and adventure are her number one priorities.

Her first stop is beautiful Paris, where love and sex are almost guaranteed to a sexy woman like her.

When she meets a mysterious white stranger in a small cafe, she allows him to take her to dinner… in the hotel that he owns.

Will she end up regretting this sizzling one-night romance with a hot French man? Will the sex be as unforgettable as the beautiful city?

Don’t miss this delightful bit of sex tourism and romance!



Romance and adventure were in the air the second I stepped off of my place. After a year of saving up and working hard, I’m finally on a well deserved and much needed vacation. Too bad it’s only a week long.

The goal is to make it to three different countries. France, Italy, and Brazil. Then I’ll be back home in the states and miserable about it, no doubt.

I considered going to Africa, since I do have some family there. My heart was set on Europe though. This may not be the land of my ancestors, because my skin is dark and my lineage unbroken, but it’s still a beautiful place.

When we finally landed in Charles de Gaulle International Airport, all of my anxiety and work worries were forgotten and I finally felt free! For a while, at least.

Walking past the red carpet where new passenger sit, waiting for their planes while browsing the internet on an almost infinite number of cell phones and tablets, I quickly go to bag pickup to await my luggage. I’m not ashamed to say I probably over packed, which two huge suitcases and my carry on. Well, a girl needs her clothes and shoes!

A half hour of waiting and waiting for my purple suitcases to come around the bend of the luggage carrier and I’m feeling annoyed. The little machine whirrs a couple dozen bags around and around, and of course mine are the last ones to come out. I grab them quick.

Making my way to the RER train and heading to central Paris, though, I can’t help but smile. I feel like jumping up and down, and I am so ready to have an adventure. I pass a group of schoolgirls who shared my plane with me, highschoolers from an advanced French language class who gossiped the whole flight about boys and television shows. One girl cried for a few minutes, explaining that she just missed her mom. The teacher escorting them was a handsome man with a sprinkle of gray in his otherwise jet black hair. He reminded the sad girl they would only be gone a week. Seeing her now, off the plane, she look as happy as I am while she waits for her bags with the class.

My hotel is La Maison Favart, a quirky building that I’m told gives the artsy feel one should have while staying in Paris.

The lobby of the hotel overwhelms me as I step in. The ornate, beautiful paintings, the large mirror on the wall facing a room full of seating. Some chairs, a few white couches, and a plush carpet beneath it all. It’s separated from the reception desk by large white columns.

“Bonjour, manquer.”

I turn and am greeted by a smiling woman. She looks to be about 50, with styling blonde hair. She’s not exactly thin, but her body is still sexy even for her age, and I find myself admiring her for longer than is appropriate.

“Bonjour. Je ne parle pas beaucoup Francais, I’m sorry!”Hoping she understands, I shrug a little in consolation.

That’s alright, I know some English,” she replies, smiling and waving me over.

Oh, good! How lucky for me. My name is Olivia Valentine, I have reservations for 2 days.” Stepping up to the counter, where the men left my bags, I show her my passport and credit card. With slim fingers, painted a beautiful shade of red, she types on her computer to find me.

Ah, you are in room 36. It’s a beautiful room. I’ll have someone bring your heavy bags up, here is your key card.

Thank you!” I bow a bit, taking the card and turning toward the stairs. Heading up the flights to my room, I check behind and see that two men are following me with my bags. I hurry the rest of the way so that they don’t have to struggle with my heavy luggage longer than necessary.

Unlocking the door to room 36, I press the handle down and step into the room. It smells very slightly of a floral perfume. The walls are a golden yellow, and from the door I can see a corner of the bed. Walking in further, I notice the coffee maker and sigh with relief, happy I won’t have to travel far for caffeine.

Hearing a bit of a struggle behind me, I notice both men entering the room behind me. “Thank you, you can set them anywhere.” I have no idea if they understand me, but they set the bag beside the large bed and turn to leave. Quickly, I hand one of them some money for a tip and they leave, shutting the door behind them.

On the bed is a blanket with an ornate design of red and gold, along with two small brown pillows and two larger white pillows. On the right of the bed is a desk with a lamp and a lavender chair, the perfect place to set up my laptop. Sitting on the bed for a moment, I’m pleasantly surprised by how soft it is.

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