Magic Carpet

At Avebury we walked around the ring of stones before finding a tea room that did cream teas. They advertised 'luxury cream teas' at about twenty-five per cent more than the normal ones. Instead of the usual one scone we had three each with masses of jam and cream, as many cups of tea as we wanted and fancy cakes to follow. Angelique's enjoyment was obvious. The cycling couples thought it was the best cream tea they had ever had.

Although the wind was strong with six people on board it didn't seem to affect the car. If I had still had the Ford Anglia I would have been worried. I parked in the same place near the trees. The cycling couples got out. I said I needed to check the car before tomorrow. As they left I lifted the bonnet unnecessarily. Once they were out of sight I lowered the bonnet and joined Angelique on the back seat.

"Today I want Geoff down there," Angelique said, pointing at her skirt.

I straddled the transmission tunnel with my feet under the front seat. Angelique lifted her skirt and pushed my head between her legs. I licked and nibbled before using my tongue. Angelique was shuddering above me and then covered my head with her heavy skirt. She held it tight around my head as she started several orgasms. Soon I was running out of breath, smothered by her skirt and warm pussy. I tried to pull away but Angelique pushed me back before allowing me to pant for breath as her legs clamped the sides of my head. It was half an hour before she relented and let me rest my head on her lap. After that she moved so I could sit on the seat as she bounced up and down on me until I too was satisfied.

When we got back to the hostel we had some knowing looks from the cyclists.

"We went to a walk," Angelique said in French which I translated.

I was sure they knew what sort of 'walk' we had actually done.

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In the common room after the evening meal we were discussing where we would all go next as Angelique and I wrote postcards. The cyclists were concerned about the wind. If it continued tomorrow they might either stay another night in the hostel at Salisbury or take a train to Bristol before working their way up to the Lake District. The French couples were going to the hostel near Arundel before working their way along the South coast to the hostel at Guestling, near Hastings, before three final nights in a London hostel.

Angelique and I hadn't yet decided. She asked me what I had intended to do before I met her. I replied that I had intended to go west to Exeter and then on to Devon and Cornwall but now I thought it would be a good idea to take her to stay at my parents' house for the last few nights so I could show her some of the sights of London. If so, I suggested a shorter stay in the west. I had intended to walk extensively on Dartmoor, leaving my car close to a hostel, walking to others and finally coming back to my car. That would take too long if we were going to have some days in London, but we could still hostel hop using my magic carpet, whatever the weather.

Angelique was content to go west with me and although doubtful about what my parents would say, to go home with me for a few days in London.

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The next morning the weather was foul for June. The wind, already strong, had increased and now there was heavy rain. The cyclists decided to go by train to Bristol.

Before they and the French couples left they had to say goodbye to Angelique and me. Angelique kissed everyone. The French women kissed me and all the men. Rachel and June were surprised to be kissed but they decided that was a good idea. They kissed the Frenchmen before both of them tried to kiss me at once. They found that awkward as Angelique was hugging me. She noticed, pulled Rachel away and kissed Rachel while June made a real production of kissing me. When it was Rachel's turn I thought that her kiss was not the formal greeting that the French used indiscriminately but that of a passionate woman who might be jealous of Angelique.

Angelique noticed and reclaimed possession of me with a fierce hug and several very intense kisses. She stood at the hostel door with her arms wrapped around me as we watched the others trudge off into the rain.

Shortly afterwards we dressed in our waterproof gear to walk to my car. On the way we posted the postcards. Once in the car we shed our outer clothing and I turned on the engine, demister and blower to clear the mist from the screen. The rain was beating on the roof but we were warm and dry. I set off intending to go to Exeter. We stopped at a roadside café for lunch and I coached Angelique on how to order the meals. That amused the waitress and the lorry drivers but she managed to make herself understood.

Despite the foul weather, or perhaps because there was so little traffic because of it, we made good time. I decided to drive on to the Maypool hostel beside the River Dart. I knew, because of the narrow lanes around it, that the hostel had a car park and welcomed visitors who came to the area by car.

The hostel was quiet but Angelique was relaxed even though there were no French people there. She understood how hostels worked. After the evening meal I talked to the warden about places to visit locally. He thought the weather might still be wet tomorrow but if we booked in advance we could join a tourist boat at Greenway ferry quay for a trip up the Dart to Totnes and back. Normally they didn't stop at Greenway but if they were asked to - they could.

I discussed it with Angelique. She liked the idea so the warden telephoned the boat's operators. They would collect us from the Greenway quay at ten thirty tomorrow morning and return us there shortly after five o'clock.

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It was still raining that morning but the wind had dropped. As the boat moved upstream towards Totnes the sun started to break through the clouds. Totnes was in sunshine. We walked around, seeing the sights, had a pub lunch and a cream tea on the boat's return journey to Greenway.

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The next day was more strenuous and the weather reasonable. We crossed by the foot ferry from Greenway to Dittisham, walked into Dartmouth and to Dartmouth Castle, crossed to Kingswear by the lower ferry and walked back to the hostel.

Angelique was learning more English. I understood her Alsatian French easier and she was also picking up my more standard French.

Although my magic carpet car was in the hostel's car park it was in an isolated position. Each evening we would use the back seat for more energetic couplings usually starting with my lips under her skirt before Angelique bounced on me.

On the third day we moved on into Cornwall and after a few hostels on the Tuesday of the second week I drove through heavy rain back to the hostel where I had first met Angelique. The warden was impressed by how much English Angelique had learned in the time and appreciated how much happier she was with me.

Angelique was slightly worried about what sort of reception she would get from my parents and sister Mary. I tried to reassure her. When we arrived at my parents' hose she was greeted as she would be in France, by hugging and kissing. She and Mary got on so well as it was if they had been longstanding friends meeting up again after an absence. They were talking fast French together for hours. Mary tried to disillusion Angelique about her brother, who wasn't perfect but Angelique insisted that I was which amused Mary and my mother who knew I wasn't.

That evening Angelique was far more animated than she had ever been. Being with a whole family who spoke perfect Parisian French but understood her Alsatian accent was amazing. When Angelique went to bed Mary said to me:

"Angelique lives you, Geoff. You'll treat her well?"

"Of course, Mary. I love her too." I replied.

"She thinks you are perfect, Geoff. That's worrying."

"She might have done on the first evening when she was worried and felt abandoned, but not now. She's been with me for nearly ten days. She's heard me swear about other drivers, complain about traffic and moan about my sore feet and now she understands enough English to work out when I'm annoyed."

"She's much better for you than Susan."

"Susan? She was great. She just didn't like the shape and colour of my magic carpet Morris Oxford. Angelique doesn't like the colour either but she appreciates the warmth and comfort of it, particularly in bad weather."

"And the size of the back seat?"

I blushed.

Mary laughed at me.

"I could tell that you and Angelique had gone much further than you ever went with Susan. What are you going to do when Angelique goes back home?"

"I think my magic carpet will have to make a trip to Alsace when I am on holiday next."

"I'm sure it will and neither I nor my parents would be surprised if you came back engaged to Angelique. We like her."

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Over the next few days Angelique and I went to see the sights of London by train from our suburb. Each evening Angelique told Mary and my parents where we had been and what she had enjoyed. She was loving being in a family of French speakers and improving her English as well. She could now understand signs and even buy train tickets for herself.

On her final day I drove her to Victoria coach station and made sure she got on the correct coach for the journey to Paris. She could have done that for herself now. England and the English language were no longer so frightening.

My sister Mary was right. I took some holiday in September and drove my magic carpet to Alsace. Angelique and her parents welcomed me. I was also pleased to meet Marie and her much improved grandmother.

By the end of my stay I had proposed to Angelique and been accepted. Her parents seemed happy with Angelique's choice even though it would mean that she came to live with me in England. They had started evening classes in English and so had Angelique.

My magic carpet had brought me a French bride.

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Note: The newer hostel where I first met Angelique was (and is) Holmbury St Mary. It isn't easy to find the first time as it is at the end of a narrow track.

At the time the Winchester Hostel was the Old Water Mill with the mill race in the basement.