My First Time with Clémence: Shattering Innocence in Her Paris Living Room
It was July 1982, their quiet pavillon in Paris’s 17th arrondissement. Sun filtered through the salon curtains. I was 18, fresh from my Bac, heart pounding as I sat on the leather armchair. Clémence, mom’s best friend, faced me on the sofa. 50 but looked 45, fiery red hair, green eyes, satin blue peignoir hugging…