Love Around the World 25: Ypres

"There's no rush, Clara. We have plenty of time together."

We spent the entire day on the road as we moved between museums and cemeteries. The museum at Passchendaele was incredibly interesting with a replica trench that allowed us to experience what life might have been like under Flanders Fields. Tyne Cot was...

Clara and I didn't really talk for a while afterwards.

Returning to Ypres in the early evening in time for the evening service, we walked up to our room to grab a light jacket each. That was the intention before she practically leapt on me, ending up on my back as she left such a kiss on me, I felt her press down on my erection once she felt it poking her.

"That's what I wanted to feel," she whispered, feeling her fingers run through my hair, "I think I'll have to ask you to be gentle when we make love. Nice and big, Mark."

"Well... I've heard no complaints."

"Big enough for me, from what I can feel. And you know how you said you love going down on a woman? I love returning the favour for my lover. I'm not selfish. Of course, my ex-husband... Well, less said about that loser, the better."

We made out for a little while, I think a way of helping each other feel a little better as touring museums and cemeteries does leave you feeling a little depressed. Finding another little restaurant, we returned to the same pub as the previous night, again finding ourselves chatting away with different groups of people, Clara rarely not having her hands on me in one fashion or another.

Staying for only a couple of beers, Clara held my hand the entire way back to our hotel, only letting it go once we were back in our room. Once I'd shut the door behind me, we came together as there was no hesitation from either of us about taking off each other's clothes. She was wearing a light-coloured blouse and a pair of snug jeans that definitely showed off a pert little arse.

"B's," she whispered once I had her down to her bra and panties, "I know they're not that big..."

"They're perfect for you... A little pale though." She gave me a look, quickly adding, "I love pale. You're gorgeous."

Her fingers ran through my chest hair up to my shoulders. "And you are just... A man. My ex-husband shaved all his off. I didn't know why. I find it sexy."

"We getting naked or..."

"I always sleep naked, Mark. Take off my bra."

That was rather easy, revealing her beautiful, perky little breasts, her pink nipples hard, pointing out a little bit, my eyes lighting up as I knew what I wanted to do with them. Her panties were little more than tiny strips of fabric, lowering myself to a knee as she spread her legs enough that I could easily lower them, her pubic hair was trimmed but her pussy was well groomed. I could smell her scent, leaving a soft kiss just above her pussy, making her giggle as she stepped out of her panties.

She was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in my life. I gazed up into her eyes to see hers full of nerves before she realised that I had pretty much fallen in love with her by now. Leaning down to kiss me, she then told me to stand up as my underwear hit the floor in seconds.

"Yes!" she cried out before laughing to herself, "Oh, that's very nice, Mark. Not too long. I don't need a stupidly long dick. My pussy isn't cavernous. Thick enough to feel it. And... God, I'm already thinking of it being inside me."

"But we're just snuggling, right?"

"I can't wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow, Mark. I know I'm going to feel... I haven't felt loved in a long time."

She woke up the next morning with me poking her. All we'd done the night before was snuggle, a lot of kissing, and a lot of talking. When she'd fallen asleep, I'd watched her for a few minutes, and I knew I was already in love. And that meant trouble. Because she was from Canada, I was from Australia. We were in Europe. On holiday. Was it just a brief romance? Were we destined for heartbreak?

As she'd only travelled straight to Ypres after landing in Paris, I asked if she'd like to go and visit Bruges. I'd already been there, but I knew she'd find it charming and worthwhile to visit. She loved the idea, so we got into my car, and I drove us there.

She loved it, and when I suggested Ghent the next day, as it was somewhat similar, just on a larger scale with a bit more to see, she couldn't stop smiling as she agreed it sounded fantastic.

Arriving back in Ypres after our day in Bruges, we didn't bother with a restaurant, grabbing some pommes frites from one of the many shops found in every Belgian town and city, coating them in mayonnaise, and we agreed to a drink at our now favourite pub before returning to our room.

Once we were naked again, I laid Clara down and proved I wasn't lying about the fact I loved to pleasure a woman. She had such gorgeous pussy, the sort you would see in magazines or on the internet. Absolutely perfect. Her scent drove me wild, and her taste... I would have loved to bottle it. Figuring out how she loved being pleased was always something else I loved doing, and when I had her making the sort of noises that suggested enjoyment, my heart soared when I made her orgasm, and it was obviously a bloody good one.

I only relented when she had to beg me to stop, knowing my chin was glistening, and my jaw was admittedly a little sore. Lying down next to her, she turned onto her side to face me, her eyes glistening as she cuddled into my body.

"I haven't been treated that well in years," she said softly.

"Every day, Clara. I want you to feel as good as I do."

She was silent before whispering, "You really like me?"

"Honestly, I'm fucking terrified right now because my mind is running away with so many thoughts."

"It is a good sort of terror?"

"Well, if there is a good sort, then yes, it's the best sort of terror. Rebecca and Chloe made me feel human and like a man again. What I'm feeling with you already..."

"There's no such thing as too quick, Mark, because I'm feeling it too. When your arms are around me, I feel so safe and... I know it's not love yet but... I feel loved."

Clara had loved Bruges. If it wasn't for the fact that Ghent was in the Dutch-speaking region of Belgium, she'd have moved to Ghent the next day. I'd only spent a couple of days there, so we joined a guided walking tour before doing our own thing. She took plenty of pictures, and we'd already taken a number of selfies in Bruges. After taking more in Ghent, I thought I'd upload them to the two platforms I had and see the reaction.

"Already have my photos from yesterday up," she told me on the drive back later that evening, "I've already been asked who you are."

"And what did you say?"

She was quiet before resting her hand on mine. I was driving a manual so was resting my free hand on the gearstick. "I said he might be the man I'd be willing to leave Quebec for..." I nearly crashed as my head whipped in her direction. "I don't care if that sounds fast, Mark. I know what I'm feeling already. After our second night, I went online to look into how a Canadian can get to Australia and stay."

"You'd... You'd do that for me?"

"I love Quebec and I do love Canada. But I've always been interested in going to Australia. Now that I've met someone from there, I find I have an even better reason to go there."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Nothing right now is okay. I'm just telling you what I'm thinking, Mark. I want to spend the rest of my time in Europe with you. I want to make love with you as often as possible. I want to go home to Canada knowing I'm in love and then we can sort things out after that."

We made love that night for the first time. I'd gone down her first, but after only one or two orgasms, she was begging to make love to her. Sliding inside her for the first time, the look of joy on her face was something I'd remember for the rest of my life. We were perfect for each other, we both realised that immediately. And as we made love, it seemed we just naturally fit together, moved together, loved together.

It was a long night as we had a lot of fun. Tried a few positions. She went down on me once to get me hard again as she didn't want our fun to stop too early. And when she was spooned back against me afterwards, holding one of my hands to her chest, I felt her sigh as she whispered something quietly in French. I don't know a word of the language, but I had an idea of what she said.

Waking before her the next morning, she'd rolled over in her sleep to face me, snuggled up tightly against me. I just watched her sleep, feeling this surge of feeling that I had been expecting. When she slowly opened her eyes to see me watching her, the blush was adorable before leaning up to kiss me.

"Plans for today?"

"I was thinking we head to Vimy Ridge, just on the outskirts of Lens..." She managed a faint smile, knowing it was specifically for her, "Then we'll head further south to Arras as there's a museum there about the Somme battles."

"After a couple of days playing just tourists, I guess it's going to be another slightly depressing day..."

"I'll think of something to do tomorrow, or we can just spend the day together relaxing..."

"Are you being suggestive, Mark? A day relaxing in bed, perhaps?"

"You said it, not me!"

It was a long day of driving from Ypres to Lens, then Arras before returning to Ypres in the early evening. Clara was emotional during our walk around the memorial at Vimy Ridge. It was wandering the two cemeteries, seeing the ages of some of the young men, no older than boys, no doubt thinking at the time that it was going to be some great adventure rather than a meat grinder. I'd felt the same sadness at Tyne Cot and Gallipoli. A senseless waste of so many millions of young lives.

The museum in Arras was housed within the Château de Péronne. Incredibly detailed about the horrors of the Somme battlefront, with two permanent exhibitions dealing with issues usually overlooked regarding the Great War, one being the treatment of prisoners of war, as most people only think of all the death from the Great War rather than the soldiers who were captured. The second exhibition dealt with the children who suffered due to the many cities, towns and villages that were destroyed due to the establishment of trenches. Clara was emotional again as we walked through that, holding my hand tightly.

"I'd never want our children to suffer anything like that," she whispered walking out before coming to a stop, realising what she'd just said. Seeing I was just smiling at her, she squeezed my hand again as I led her to the car. I'd turned us onto the autoroute north when she finally said, "I didn't mean..."

"You want children, Clara?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"Want to get married again?"

"I do. What about you?"

"I loved being married, committed to the woman I was in love with. Knowing I was sharing the rest of my life with someone special. Shame it didn't work out the first time."

"But you'd love to try again?"

"Absolutely. Hopefully it's a case of the second time's a charm."

She didn't say anything, but I saw the smile on her face whenever I glanced her way. Returning in time just for the evening service at the Menin Gate, we stopped at our favourite pub for a couple of drinks. She needed something to help her relax after what had been a difficult day, admitting she'd probably be overwhelmed again when we arrived in Normandy and visited the memorial and museum at what was Juno Beach.

There was no hesitation in making love that night, and when we woke together the next morning, we dressed to go out for breakfast before returning to our room. We spent most of the day in bed, making love, talking about our lives and perhaps any shared future, and simply lying back and snuggling together.

"Have you booked accommodation in Normandy?" she asked later that evening, aware we would be leaving Ypres the next morning.

"Yeah, I gave it some thought, and I booked a hotel in Caen a while back. The city has a number of museums. I considered staying in Bayeux, but at this time of year, the place is quite busy, and Caen is just as close to all the D-Day beaches as Bayeux."

"We could still go see that famous tapestry though."

"I was thinking about spending a day there, a day in Caen, in addition to visiting all five beaches."

"Have you been to Paris?" she asked quietly.

"No, I was thinking of going there to check it out, plus I can then hop onto the Eurostar..."

"It would be rather romantic..."

"Hmmm... You've convinced me."

Checking out the next morning, it was the same receptionist who had checked me in when I'd arrived. Realising I had company, she asked if I'd had a good time in Ypres. I assured her it had been a learning experience, emotional at times, but something I'd always remember.

Clara and I spent a week in Normandy, spending a day wandering around Caen, and a day in Bayeux, before we spent five days exploring each of the D-Day beaches, all the museums and memorials. Spending a day dedicated to everything with Juno Beach took a somewhat emotional toll on Clara. She might have considered herself a Quebecer first, but she loved her country, and she held it together until we stopped at the Canadian cemetery at Beny-sur-mer. Seeing so many white gravestones was just too much...

"It's just so sad," she said as we cuddled near the car, "So many young lives snuffed out."

"Fought the good fight though. At least there was a bloody good reason for fighting the second time. It's the first time that feels that it's still senseless even after the passage of time." Lifting her chin, I managed a slight smile. "I think we need to do something fun and relaxing. We'll do two more beaches then head to Paris?"

"I'd love to go to Versailles."

"Definitely. Anything else?"

"Disneyland?" she asked, managing a little laugh.

"Anything you want, Clara. I really don't mind at all."

That night in our little room at the small hotel I'd booked before I'd even met her, it was while making love, Clara on top as she admitted after our very first time that she loved riding me, that she leaned down to kiss me and whispered, "I love you, Mark. I don't want this to end."

Whispering that I loved her in return earned that smile I'd already learned to love, our lovemaking increasing in passion as she begged me for more and more once she ended up on her back. As we cuddled afterwards, she started to laugh, looking up to meet my eyes. "Good thing I'm on the pill, Mark. I reckon I'd be pregnant by the time I head back to Canada."

"How is it going to work?" I had to ask.

"Been thinking about it since around the second day together, Mark. Humour me with this one. Come back to Quebec with me for a little while. I'd love to show you around my home city. You'll love it."

"Okay. I'll look at flights in the morning."

"While I'm there, I'll apply for a visa to Australia. As we're part of the Commonwealth, it should be easy enough. I know plenty of Australians come to Canada each year on visas. I'm still young enough to get one sort of visa or another."

"And if we run into difficulties, we could always..." I trailed off as she started to blush. "Yeah, I know. Very, very early to be thinking about that, but if we're serious..."

"I'm very serious, Mark," she whispered.

I can't say that we both absolutely loved Paris, but seeing all the famous sights in person was a real thrill, and given that we were there in summer, even though it felt overcrowded at times, even I would admit that it was somewhat romantic. Clara was in her element, particularly with her fluent French. It made my life easier as she just did all the ordering for me. Versailles was magnificent, and she loved our day at Euro Disneyland. I think we were both nothing but big kids that day.

Arriving in London a few days later, I'd booked us a hotel for the city while we were in Paris, and I figured it was time to let my mother know what I was doing. She knew all about Clara though the two hadn't spoken. I had a small laptop with me that I'd rarely used during my travels, so after I'd set up the internet, I called my mother in the evening, so it was morning time in Australia.

At least she got to see Clara for the first time, Mum raining compliments on her, enough that Clara had to hide her face against me as she was a little overwhelmed. Letting Mum know I'd be heading to Canada for a few weeks before Clara came home with me to Australia, she immediately suggested that Clara would be welcome to stay with her until I had found a place for us to live.

After breaking the connection, Clara hugged me tightly before suggesting that her parents were going to love me as much as my mother already loved her.

We spent a few days in London doing all the usual touristy things though I could sense that Clara was eager to get back to Quebec as she wanted to get the ball rolling on getting to Australia. I'd managed to snag a flight to Canada though it wasn't the same flight as hers and would require a transfer to Quebec City via Toronto. Clara assured me that she would meet me at the airport to pick me up and I would stay with her until we left for Australia.

I was leaving two days after her. Saying goodbye at Heathrow Airport wasn't as bad as first feared because we knew that we'd see each other soon. She was excited to be going home, and very excited about me going to stay with her, but I think most of her excitement was about what might be coming afterwards. There were no tears as we shared one hell of a last kiss before she had to disappear through security, whispering words of love and affection to each other before I let her go.

Three days later, I landed in Quebec City to be greeted by Clara, her parents, and what seemed to be her extended family. She was laughing at the look on my face as I hadn't expected the small crowd upon arrival, her mother greeting me with a kiss on each cheek, her father greeting me with a warm handshake, introduced to her younger sister who said more than one thing in French that had Clara blushing and her parents chuckling. I guess it was positive.

Quebec City was absolutely gorgeous. Fell in love with the place immediately and did consider a change of plans. "We'll come back and visit at least once a year," I promised her, "But that's if you're sure..."

"I'm going home with you, Mark." I smiled when she was already calling it 'home'. "My home is with you, Mark. My future is with you. We're going to get married, have children, and make a life together. And I want to live in Australia. It'll just take some adjusting to get used to the summer heat and mild winters."

"Sounds like you've got it all worked out, Clara."

"Once we're in our own place, I'm throwing my pills in the bin. My parents already know I want to get married as soon as possible. They'll happily come over for a wedding."

I ended up spending three months in Canada with Clara as we sorted out everything. In addition to that, she did take me on some trips including visits to Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto. Anywhere else was quite a distance away, and I preferred our time in and around Quebec. Even dabbled in learning a little French. I was awful, it made Clara giggle all the time, but she loved that I was simply willing to try.

Waiting at the airport for our flight back to Australia, from Quebec to Vancouver and then a direct flight to Sydney, Clara was fidgeting with excitement next to me. "Got ants in your pants or something?" I joked.

"Excited and admittedly a little horny," she whispered.

"You're insatiable. I've learned that in the last three months."

"I went a couple of years without sex. I'm making up for lost time."

"I think you've been doing that since Ypres."

"Never thought I'd fall in love there."