In the Land of Fire and Sex

**Note**

The following story takes place in the Icelandic capital of Reykjavik. Although the characters and events portrayed are entirely fictional, the story is based on actual Icelandic dating customs.

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In most countries, the idea of the "one night stand" is considered sleazy and even degrading. However, that notion is not shared in the Land of Fire and Ice. While Iceland's spectacular geysers, waterfalls and volcanoes may be alluring to foreigners, the Icelanders themselves, specifically the young ones, couldn't care less about these things. In fact, they struggle every day to understand why someone would pay hundreds of dollars to camp on their midge infested lakes, and breath in their smelly sulfur fumes. Therefore, if you're a young person in Iceland there are really only two forms of entertainment, alcohol and sex. The latter was exactly why 22 year old Simon would travel to the Icelandic capital in the dead of winter.

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Simon was a smart, young English lad who hailed from a small village outside of York. He was a student of botany at a university in York, and worked as a chess tournament commentator, and trivia host to earn a few pounds. For this reason, most of his classmates considered him a nerd. It didn't help that he wore glasses, and had only recently gotten his braces off. For the most part however, Simon wasn't an ugly guy. In fact, he didn't even fit the description of a stereotypical nerd. He was almost 6 feet tall, slim, and fair skinned with dense brown hair and a subtle beard. Even with glasses, his face was easily an 8. Plus, he was a charming English gentlemen, and his mates always told him that he knew how to show them a good time at the pub. But there was something about him that just didn't appeal to women.

Most of the lads in his class had already lost their virginity, while Simon had never even been on a date. The only girl to ever kiss him was a childhood crush in grade school. One thing he did have going for him, was his above average penis. But it didn't matter that his cock stood at almost 7 inches when fully erect, if he didn't have anyone to put it in.

Simon had promised himself that 2017 would be the year he lost his virginity. However, 2017 was quickly coming to an end, and he had yet to accomplish his goal. With only two weeks left of the year, and the semester already over, his chances of getting laid in England were pretty slim. Desperate, he began scouring the internet for any article he could find on "sex tourism." It was then that he came across an online blog post entitled, "In the Land of Fire and Sex". The article was written by a young Polish lad, who had lived in Iceland for several years and had experienced its liberal sex culture. He spoke of Icelandic women "fucking first and asking questions later".

One quote from his article stated, "I had never experienced anything like this in my life. The women in this country will sleep with you, before they even ask you your name. I went to bed with a young lady I met in a bar, only to find out afterwards that she was a hardcore feminist vegan. But at that point, I didn't care as she had already given me a night to remember."

One comment on his blog read, "I'm a native Icelander, and what you say is completely true. If you can't get laid in Iceland, there's something wrong with you."

At that moment, Simon knew he had found the solution to his dilemma. However, there was one problem that he was made aware of as he read the article. The country's promiscuous culture meant that Iceland also had the highest rate of STDs on the planet, with a significant portion of the population suffering from chlamydia. Although this was somewhat concerning, Simon reckoned that as long as he used protection and didn't perform oral sex, he would be fine. Besides, he still considered Iceland a far better option then the Red Light District of Amsterdam. At least this way, he would be losing his virginity to a regular girl, and not some prostitute. He had made up his mind.

Simon immediately went on a booking site and began searching for flights to Reykjavik. Just his luck, the only flight he was able to find was on the 31st of December, that left England at 6:00 in the evening, and arrived in Iceland at 8:00 PM. Factoring in customs, exchanging currency and getting into town, he really had just a three hour window to lose his virginity, before the start of the new year. With all the drinking and partying that would be taking place on New Year's Eve, this task would normally be a walk in the park. However, finding a single gal in a city of over 100,000, seducing her, and getting her in bed, all within three hours, seemed downright impossible. But Simon was up to the challenge. He knew if he didn't go through with this, no other goal in life would ever matter. Without hesitation, he finalized his booking, and marked the date on his calendar. Now, the wait began.

The two weeks that had passed since he booked his ticket, were the longest two weeks of Simon's life. Every night he would look at pictures of nude Icelandic girls, and watch hours of amateur Icelandic porn, counting down to the day that one of those girls would be his. However, Simon was deliberately making things more unbearable for himself. He had abstained from masturbating that entire time, as he was saving himself for that lucky lasse in Iceland. Just when he thought he couldn't make it another second, December 31 had arrived.

That morning, Simon packed light, packing only his money, passport, a few toiletries, a pack of condoms and extra underwear just in case. Aside from the underwear, he didn't even bother packing a change of clothes, as he only planned to get laid and leave the country the very next morning. Simon always enjoyed maintaining his natural appearance. However, he figured a smooth man might be more appealing to a Nordic girl, so that day he decided to shave off his chest hair, butt hair, pubic and ball hair, and even his armpit hair. He looked like a bloody muncher. but in the end, his virginity was at stake here. If this would help him get laid, he was willing to do it.

That evening Simon had one of his mates give him a ride to the airport.

"Thanks for the ride mate. But hey, you and the lads are the only ones who know I'm doing this, alright? I won't be able to survive the humiliation if my family finds out about this, so if they ask, I was with you and the lads at Whitley Bay."

"I'll Photoshop some pics of you. Good luck mate. Just don't get the bird knocked up. And don't come back with any nasty souvenirs either."

With that, Simon proceeded to the check in counter. He cleared security without issue and was sitting at his gate waiting for his flight be begin boarding. Suddenly, 10 minutes before boarding time, his excitement had turned into fear and anxiety. Simon rushed to the nearest lavatory, and threw up in the first available john.

"Good Lord, Simon. Get a hold of yourself, mate."

It's a good thing he decided to pack his mouthwash, as he really needed it right now. The last thing he wanted to do was to kiss a hot Nordic blonde with vomit breath. Suddenly, he heard his flight being called for boarding. He finished rinsing and quickly ran over to his gate. Thankfully, they had just started boarding.

Simon entered the plane and made his way to his seat. The flight attendant was giving her routine safety talk, but he tuned her out. All he could think about was those horny Icelandic girls who were waiting for him in Reykjavik. As the plane began to taxi down the runway the reality of what he was doing suddenly donned on him.

"Good Lord Simon! How desperate can you be?"

But at this point it was too late to turn back, and deep down he knew he couldn't wait another day to get laid.

A voice came on over the intercom. The captain was informing the crew and passengers that the plane was about to take off. Suddenly the plane began to speed down the runway, and Simon's heart sank as he felt it lift off the ground. By midnight, he would no longer be a virgin.

7:50 PM. The captain's voice comes on over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Reykjavik. The temperature in Reykjavik is about 23 degrees Celsius, with clear night skies and fresh snowfall. Thank you for flying with us, and enjoy your stay in Reykjavik."

Simon peered through his passenger's window and could see dim lights in the distance. He looked at his watch. 7:51. At this point every minute was precious. He just wanted to be on the ground and off the plane.

Simon could feel the plane start to descent. His leg was shaking uncontrollably with anticipation. Suddenly, he was jolted in his seat. The plane had landed. He was in Iceland. He looked at his watch. It was 8:00 sharp, but he knew it would be at least another 10 minutes before they were allowed to deplane. He looked at his watch again and again. 5 minutes had passed, then 10, then 15. At this point Simon was getting antsy. The flight crew were running late and every minute was precious. Finally, the captain gave the go ahead to deplane.

Simon followed the line of passengers down the steel stairs and onto the icy tarmac. He was immediately hit with a burst of cold Arctic air. The jacket and gloves he had purchased for this trip weren't doing the job, but he knew the body heat of an Icelandic girl would soon warm him up. He glanced at his watch. 8:20 damnit! At this point he wanted to make a mad dash over the airport fence, and grab the first taxi he saw, but if he ended up in prison, he would never get laid, at least not by a woman. So he calmly followed the other passengers into the customs building, which if anything, was at least much warmer. Here, he caught his first glimpse of some real Icelandic women, in the form of customs officials. They were all in their 40s and 50s, but the excitement of finally seeing some in person, made him instantly aroused. God, they looked so hot! He wanted to take them right there, and wondered if he could some how fool them into giving him a cavity search. Had he not been experiencing severe shrinkage from the cold weather he had just been exposed to, he would've had a full hard on right now.

The customs people were taking forever. Simon needed to piss, but didn't wanna lose his place in line. He looked at his watch. 9:20 damnit! He should've been out of here already. At this point, he was wondering if he should just try his luck with one of the customs ladies. Finally, one of the customs official waved him over.

"Good evening sir. Your passport please." There was a long pause as he examined Simon's documents.

"British."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you here for business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure sir!", he replied with a huge grin on his face.

"Enjoy you stay."

"Oh, I wil!", Simon replied.

Finally, he was through, but he still needed to relieve himself and exchange his bloody currency. It was 9:30 by the time he finally made it out of the bloody airport. "Bollocks!" Simon said as he looked at his watch. He wasted no more time and grabbed the first taxi he saw.

"Good evening sir, where to?" the driver inquired.

"Downtown please."

"Okay, but I must tell you, we have this huge New Year's Eve celebration happening. With all the traffic and icy roads it will take us at least an hour to get there."

Bollocks! A whole bloody hour? That only left him an hour and a half, but he'd come too far to give up now. All he could do was pray for a miracle.

Simon tried to distract himself by taking in the town, but there wasn't a whole lot to take in. The drive was pretty uneventful as they crawled their way through the city's dark residential areas.

After what seemed like an eternity, his cab driver finally called out, "Okay! This is downtown! This is where all the shops, bars and restaurants are!"

Exactly the sort of places horny Icelandic girls like to hang out.

"How much do I owe you sir?" Simon inquired.

"15,000 Kronurs, please."

15,000 KRONURS? Bloody hell! Had he known this he would've walked. But he had no choice but to pay the man.

"Here you are sir."

"Thank you very much, enjoy the party."

The bloody cab ride had cost him nearly half his budget for this trip. If he ended up having to buy a young lady dinner, he would be screwed. But at this point, he was happy to finally be where the action was, despite the fact that downtown was even colder then the bloody airport. He looked at his watch, 10:30 sharp. It shouldn't be too difficult to find a girl here, and if she lived within walking distance, he would still get laid before midnight.

Simon made his way onto the icy, snow lined, pedestrian only street. There he was greeted by bright lights, musicians, street performers dressed as famous Norse gods, and of course, hundreds of gorgeous local girls. At this point he was overwhelmed. The entire population of Reykjavik must've crammed into this one street. He was surrounded on all sides, and could barely move. He didn't even know where to begin. The bars and restaurants were so packed that he couldn't even get in. If there were any single ladies in there, he had no way of reaching them. Most of the girls he saw on the street were with their boyfriends, and the few who weren't were devoured by the crowd so quickly that he didn't even have time to make a move.

The street eventually lead him to a plaza full of vendors. The place wreaked of fermented shark meat, but was at least much more spacious and not packed to the brim. At least here he had a shot at stopping someone. Suddenly, he was interrupted by a deep male voice.

"My friend, come buy my statues of Norse gods!"

"No thanks", Simon replied.

"How about a pendant then? I have Thor, the god of thunder and lightning! Odin, the greatest Norse god of all! And Freyja, the goddess of sex and love!"

It was the last one that made Simon stop and turn around.

"Ah, you like that one don't you? Then come have a look!"

"How much?" Simon asked.

"4,000 Kronurs," the vendor replied.

Simon glanced at his watch. 10:45 it read.

Bloody hell! He really didn't want to spend anymore money, and he personally didn't believe in this Norse mythology rubbish, but at this point he was getting desperate and could use all the help he could get.

"I'll give you 3,000!", Simon negotiated.

"3500!" the vendor replied.

Bloody hell! "Okay, 3500!"

Why did he do that? He was down to just 20,000 Kronurs. This bloody pendant better work.

Simon was now at the other end of the market. He looked at his watch. 10:55 it read. Just over an hour left. Suddenly, he heard a commotion near him.

"I don't have 20,000 Kronurs! This is all I have!" a woman's voice screamed in an Icelandic accent. "You cannot sell to me?"

"I'm sorry miss, no money, no earrings!"

Then out of nowhere, an English accent entered the conversation.

"It's okay! I'll pay for the lady! I have exactly 20,000 Kronurs! Here!"

"Okay," the angry vendor said. "Here you are miss! Go!"

The young woman turned to face Simon, "Wow! Thank you so much! That was so nice of you. I really wanted them."

"It's my pleasure," Simon replied.

"Someone must've stolen the extra money I had in my bag. Anyways, thanks again. How can I repay you?" the young woman asked him.

Simon looked at the woman and tried to process the situation he now found himself in. He couldn't see anything aside from her face and a few strands of hair, as she was wrapped in a wool scarf and thick fur coat. The woman was basically a female Icelandic version of him. She was tall and wore glasses, which made her look super hot! She had light blonde hair, large blue eyes, full blonde eyebrows, a long slender nose, and full pink lips. He looked around to see if there wasn't a husband or boyfriend approaching. After all, such an attractive woman couldn't possibly be single. Yet there she was, completely alone.

Simon couldn't believe his luck. The woman seemed out of his league even by his standards, especially considering that she was at least four years older then him, but time was running out and he was freezing. He decided he had to try his luck. This woman was perfect and he wanted her. This was the part where he had to chose his words very carefully. He didn't know if he should sugarcoat his way into this, or tell this woman his intentions straight up.

"Well, since you mentioned it, I don't have a place to stay tonight and I'm freezing out here." Simon told the girl.

"You mean you don't have a hotel?" the woman inquired.

"That's right."

"Aw, you poor thing. You'll freeze out here. I guess after the fireworks I can take you to my place."

"AFTER the fireworks? Can't you take me there now?" Simon inquired.

"You don't want to see the fireworks?" the young woman asked. "Isn't that why you're here?"

"Well...yes," Simon replied. "But my clothing wasn't designed for this weather. I'm freezing out here"

"Hmmmmm, I see," the young woman replied. "You know what we say here in Scandinavia, "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing."

"Yes! Exactly!" Simon agreed. "So can I sleep with you tonight? I mean, in your house? Just for one night. I'll freeze to death if I'm stuck out here."

"Yes, of course! It's the least I can do for you. I wouldn't want you to freeze out here. And I'm sure the elves won't mind. Plus, I've seen the fireworks before so I can skip them this year."

"Wait, elves? What elves?" Simon inquired.

"The elves that live me with me. I'll introduce you, you'll love them."

Bloody hell, this woman was off her rocker, but at this point it was too late to find another one. Pussy was pussy. Besides they say the crazy ones are the best in bed.

"I'm sure I will. Thanks. So how far to your house?" Simon asked the woman.

"25 minutes if we take the water taxi then walk from the dock."

That would still only leave him 30 minutes, but at the moment it was his best option, so Simon agreed.

"Okay, follow me," the stranger said.

The two arrive at the water taxi stand, and the woman tells the boatman where to take them.

"That will be 4,000 Kronurs," the boatman informs them.

"Bollocks!" Simon calls out. "I don't have any money."

"What do you mean you don't have money?" the woman exclaims.

"I spent the last of it on your earrings," Simon informs her.

"I'm sorry, no money, no ride!" the boatman implies firmly.

This was bad. What are they going to do? Suddenly Simon remembers the pendant he had purchased. He figured it had already done its job, so he longer needed it.

"What about this? It's worth 4,000 Kronurs," he says as he shows him the pendant.

The boatman looked at the piece.

"Okay, come on. But next time, you must pay me in Kronurs."

"Thank you!" Simon and the woman say gratefully.

The two board the vessel and take their seats together, but don't say much to each other. Then about half way into their ride, Simon is suddenly startled.

"Look! The Northern Lights!" the woman calls out.

Simon looks up.

"WOW! That's incredible!" he replies in amazement. "I've never seen them before!"

Here, in the middle of the cold Arctic Ocean, he had nowhere to go. For the first time on this trip, he was able to take in the wonders of this incredible country. But, his new friend seemed to have other ideas.

"Don't stare at them too long, or they will grab you," the woman told him.

Bloody hell, not this Norse mythology rubbish again.

"Thanks for the warning," Simon politely replies.

After a short time, they pull up to a small dock next to a deserted road.

"We're here," the woman says. "My apartment is just a few blocks from here."

Simon looks at this watch. 11:25. Okay, this was still looking promising.

After a chilly walk down a dimly lit, snow covered street, they arrive at the young woman's apartment block. She lets Simon inside and leads him up a dark slippery staircase. Finally, at exactly 11:30, he's standing outside the woman's door.