Wish Upon a Star

I burst into laughter. Dale flushed.

"I'm sorry," I choked out between giggles. "You just looked so... I dunno... so intense. It was funny. I'm sorry."

Dale looked a bit confused.

"Well... uh... I guess I'm not sure how everything works," he admitted. "It's kinda like... ok, this is going to sound stupid, but it's kind of like driving a car if you've never been in one yourself. I mean, you've seen other people do it, and they can tell you how it works, but until you actually get in one and drive it..."

He trailed off as I laughed even harder. I sat up and kissed his cheek and tried to calm myself down, but I wasn't having much luck. I finally caught my breath when I realized how stupid he was feeling.

"I'm sorry," I said, sobering. "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to make you feel embarrassed. Would... um, would you like me to describe the features, and then maybe you can take it for a test drive?"

Dale had to chuckle at himself as I gave my own version of his analogy. He stuck his hand back between my legs and gave my pussy a firm rub. I could feel his confidence returning.

"All right," Dale grinned. "How does this thing work?"

He moved down the bed to get a full-on view of this new vehicle, and I opened my legs wider to accommodate him. A bit of moisture seeped out as Dale pulled open my outer labia and re-examined the treasure within.

"All right," I began. "Where do you wanna start?"

Dale pulled open my inner labia, which turned me on immensely. He looked rather surprised when the lips stayed open on their own, and I smiled.

"They open on their own when a girl gets turned on," I explained. "That's Slot B."

"So... that's where... that's where I go in?" Dale asked.

"Mm-hmm," I confirmed.

Dale ran his finger along my hole, catching some of the liquid as it started to pour out. God, his touch could make a girl horny. I moaned softly, trying to push his finger in. He didn't catch on and moved north instead.

"So what's this up here?" he asked.

I giggled, and more liquid spilled out.

"That's... um... that's where I pee, but just below that... in between the two holes... that's my clit."

Dale flicked a finger quickly from one hole to the other, rubbing over my clit as he did so.

"Where?" he asked.

I had heard of girls with large clits, but I was not one of them.

"Keep rubbing," I said. "It'll be the hard little nub. You're definitely touching it."

Dale kept rubbing, and I kept getting more and more turned on.

"Oh, God," I panted. "Do you... do you see it yet?"

No answer except more firm touching. The sheets beneath me were quickly getting wet, and I strained toward Dale, trying to get him to penetrate me. A moment later, I knew he had indeed found my clit when he pressed directly on it and rubbed harder.

"Oh, yeah, that's it," I moaned, arching my back. "Oh, God, don't stop."

My eyes squinted shut as I felt the first twinges of an orgasm in my stomach and legs. Involuntarily, I spread my legs wider, and my toes started to curl. My breath got short and ragged, and I grasped the comforter and arched my back higher. Suddenly, Dale lunged forward and sucked on my clit firmly. The heat of his breath combined with the sucking was enough to send me over the edge.

"Oh, God, Dale," I managed as I came. "Ohhh, God."

Dale hesitated only a moment before sending his tongue into the stream that flowed out of me. It was the first time I had ever had a man's tongue on my pussy, and the knowledge that it was Dale's only added to the intensity of the moment. I grunted and pushed my body toward his face. I had never wanted to fuck anybody so much in my life, and I desperately wanted Dale to just sit up, shove his dick in, and screw me until I came again... and again... and again.

Eventually, my flow subsided, and I lay back on the bed, panting and exhausted.

"I think...," I said between breaths. "I think... you've got... the idea."

Dale climbed back up next to me and wiped his face with his hand. Traces of my cum still glistened on his chin. I smiled at him as he leaned over for a kiss. I could taste my own sweetness in his saliva, but it didn't repulse me. In fact, the very idea that it was my juice on his face made the moment even sweeter. Unfortunately, I could also feel the heaviness of sleep trying to drown my desire for more.

"You tired?" I asked drowsily.

"I could definitely use a bit of a rest," Dale agreed, resting his hand on my stomach again. "We did say we could sleep in tomorrow morning."

"I suppose... we should get up and go brush our teeth...," I began, but Dale began tugging the comforter out from under me.

I shifted slightly to let him retrieve the blanket, and he covered me with it. Then he lay down on his side of the bed and stretched out under his own cover.

"Good night," I offered as he turned out the lamp.

"'Night," he returned. "I love you."

"Love you, too," I managed. "Sweet dreams."

*****

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ROME (DAY THREE)

We did sleep in the next morning, not even waking until about 10:30 a.m. We had to be checked out by 11, so this caused a bit of a rush getting our things packed; however, since we no longer felt inhibited by bathroom doors, we did manage to get out on time.

After eating an early lunch – brunch for us – and visiting the Forum and Circus Maximus, we still had several hours left before we were due at the train station for our overnight trip back to Paris. Having spent most of our trip rushing from one thing to another, a leisurely day was exactly what the doctor had ordered, and we idled away the hours shopping and wandering the streets. We visited the Jewish part of town and munched on bagels for a mid-afternoon snack; we laughed together at the antics of the cats that filled the city. Mostly, however, we fell more and more in love.

"I don't want to go home," I finally admitted as we wandered back to the train station early in the evening. "I don't want the magic of Europe to end. What if we get home and you don't like me any more? Like maybe this is all a dream and you're just in love with me because I'm the only girl here?"

Dale squeezed me tight, his arm around my shoulder, and laughed.

"You're crazy," he teased me, "but you're right. It will be different once everyone else finds out we're a couple."

"Have you e-mailed your dad about us yet?" I asked.

Dale shook his head.

"No, because he didn't want anything 'sneaky' going on, remember?"

"Right," I agreed. "I bet you can guess what I've told my folks."

"Nothing, right?"

"Right-o."

"Figured. Can't blame you, though. I'll probably tell my dad once we get back, but not until then, or he'll fell guilty about letting you spend all this time alone with me."

"Yeah, you totally took advantage of me," I teased him.

We walked into the train station and found our platform. We were still a bit early, so we sat down on a bench to wait.

"Shut up," Dale protested. "There are already times I feel like I have."

"What?! How?"

Dale shrugged.

"Just because of the situation. I mean, you are the only girl, and..."

"And stop right there, Mister," I interrupted. "I've done told you that I've been in love with you for two years. No fair thinking you could ever take advantage of me."

Dale leaned over for a quick kiss, which he received.

"Yeah, you keep telling me it was two years," he jabbed, "but how do I know? Maybe you just said that because you wanted to sound more pathetic than me."

"Shut up," I shoved him away playfully. "Now you're being stupid."

He came back and wrapped his arm over my shoulder. I glanced out the window at the city and leaned against Dale.

"This'll be an interesting night," I said, changing the subject. "I've never slept on a train before."

"Can't sleep naked, either," Dale whispered.

I giggled.

"No, no, I don't think we can. Especially since we'll be in a berth with one other person."

Our sleeper car had three berths, and we were working on the assumption that the bed would be filled.

"Yup," Dale agreed. "Sucks, but our passes won't let us upgrade."

"Could be worse," I said. "We could be in a car with two other people who don't care what we think."

"I suppose," Dale agreed. "I really don't ever want to watch people having sex again."

"Again?" I asked. "When did you see people getting it on?"

"Bryan," Dale rolled his eyes. "He had the after-Prom party at his house last year, and I happened to walk in on him and whatever cheerleader he was screwing at the time. He was humping her like there was no tomorrow."

I shuddered.

"Oh, geez, sorry, baby," Dale said. "I didn't think."

"It's OK," I reassured him. "Just the thought of Bryan made me flinch. I hope that girl was conscious."

Dale looked alarmed.

"You know, I didn't think to check," he said, genuinely concerned.

I laughed.

"You're so sweet," I told him. "You didn't know what he was capable of at the time, and now you think you might have saved some ever-so-innocent cheerleader? Forget it."

Dale still looked troubled, but he let it go.

"Anything you want to do in Paris tomorrow?" he asked. "We'll be there all day again."

"Whatever," I said. "It's not like I got to see the Tuileries last time, so if you want to revisit that, I'd love to see some of your favorites."

"Maybe," Dale agreed. "I'm still sorry I ran off and left you alone all that afternoon. What did you do while we were gone? See anything you'd like to show me?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I drove around for a while, but it wasn't much fun by myself, so I went back to the hotel and took a nap."

"Aww, I'm sorry," Dale frowned. "And there I was, off with some other girl. How could you let me go with her? I asked you if you wanted to come."

"I was used to letting you go," I explained. "You didn't know how I felt, and I knew it wouldn't be fair to drag you along with me when the other guys were hooking up. I was used to playing 'the friend.'"

He didn't look like he believed me.

"But you sat there and watched me chatting with some foreign girl! I don't know if I could have let you wander off with some Italian guy."

I grinned.

"Hmmm, an Italian, eh? That might have been fun. Maybe I should go see what I missed."

"Shut up," Dale grinned back. "Seriously, how were you not jealous?"

"I was! But like I told you, I couldn't take you away when you were having fun. And anyway, if you were in love with me, why did you go with Miette anyway?"

"Because it would have been too obvious about how I felt about... ohhh, I get it. You did the same thing I did, just in the opposite way."

I nodded.

"Exactly. I told you to go because I didn't want you to know how I felt, and you went because you didn't want me to know how you felt. Backward and awkward, but true."

"We're dumb."

"I know, but we're also both pretty good at hiding feelings, apparently. No fair hiding secrets from me, though. Now that we're a couple, you're not allowed to do that."

"Only if you do the same," Dale nodded. "That's a fair rule, especially given how long we've managed to keep secrets from each other to start with."

The train screeched in, and we stood up.

"Ready to ride?" Dale asked.

"You betcha," I answered.

*****

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: PAOLO

We stepped on board a few minutes later and found our berths and the bathrooms. We claimed a couple of beds and waited for a third person to join us. Sure enough, a handsome Italian businessman walked in a few minutes before the train was scheduled to leave. Dale looked at me, and I licked my lips suggestively. Dale looked thoughtful.

"Ciao," said the man to Dale. "Paolo."

Dale shook his hand.

"Dale," he said.

Paolo turned to me, and his face changed.

"Siete Americani?" he asked. "Sorry... are you American?"

"You speak English!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," Paolo nodded. "I have business connections in London. That's where I'm going now. I'm Paolo, by the way."

"Sarah," I said, extending my hand.

Paolo took it and gave it a chivalrous kiss. I giggled delightedly.

"And yes, we are American."

"I thought so," Paolo said, not releasing my hand. "So... we travel to Paris together?"

I glanced over at Dale. He was standing nearby, waiting pensively. I had to tug my hand out of Paolo's.

"Actually," I said, reaching for my Dale. "Wetravel to Paris together."

Paolo stepped back.

"I am so sorry," he said to Dale. "I didn't mean to take your girl away. You have come to Europe on vacation?"

"Yes," Dale confirmed, wrapping an arm around me protectively. "We're celebrating our high school graduation."

Paolo nodded.

"So sorry to disturb you. Don't let me interrupt your trip."

With that, Paolo picked up a small bag and disappeared.

"I think we ran him off," Dale grinned.

I poked his side.

"Actually, I think you ran him off. I think he would have stayed if we weren't a couple."

"You saying you wanted him to stay?"

"Well, no... yes... I don't know. I mean, you got your time with Miette, and I know that was before we hooked up, but still. At least now I know you're not the only human on earth that finds me attractive."

"I think he just liked the fact that you're blonde."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically. "I guess it was a bit of a stretch for me to think he thought I was actually pretty."

"That's not what I meant," Dale tried to backtrack. "Why don't you go after him?"

I looked up at him, shocked.

"I know you don't really mean that."

"Yeah, I do. Why should I stop you from talking to him?"

"Because we're a couple, perhaps??" I asked incredulously. "Wouldn't that be cheating?"

"I have a headache, anyway," Dale pretended. "I'm going to rest. You go, find Pietro or whatever his name was, flirt like a crazy thing, have fun. Seriously. I don't want you thinking I stifled your fun with an Italian guy."

"Dale, please don't," I pleaded. "You'll get jealous and hurt and I don't want this clouding our relationship."

Dale held me close and looked down into my eyes.

"I can't promise I won't get jealous, because I was jealous the instant he touched your hand. But he'll be someone for you to talk to while I rest. Go talk with him. I know you'll come back to me."

I snuggled up.

"Of course I'll come back to you, but are you sure? I mean, it sounds better than watching you rest, but I don't want you to be left on your own."

"Go on," Dale said, pushing me away. "Like I said, I have a headache, so I'm going to rest. I've got snacks if I get hungry and books if I get bored, but I'll probably just sleep."

I stood cautiously in the doorway of the berth for a moment. Dale lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, covering them with his arm.

"Go on," he said gently. "Turn off the light as you go?"

I turned slowly away, wondering what had gotten into him that he would want me to go do this, and flipped off the light.

As I walked down the corridor, I wasn't even sure how to find Paolo on this long train, and I sure didn't know what to say if I did. I actually was feeling rather abandoned. I was confused about Dale's actions. I couldn't understand why he would push me away like he did. Even if he did try to justify it with the headache explanation, I wasn't buying it.

I shrugged. To hell with him, anyway, if he was going to act like that. I headed down the hall to the passenger car, figuring I'd stare out the window as the sunset darkened the landscape. I walked slowly through the car, looking for an empty window seat. Finally, I spotted one all the way up the front, next to one of the many dark-haired people on the train. I wandered up.

"Pardon me," I said as I stood next to the chair. "Is this seat taken?"

Paolo looked up at me, and I stepped back.

"Paolo!" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "I'm sorry to bother you. I was just hoping to watch the scenery for a while."

He cleared a few papers off the empty seat and allowed me to pass.

"Please sit down," he said with a smile.

He looked around carefully.

"Where is your boyfriend?"

"Dale? He said he had a headache, so he's resting. He told me to go find something to do."

"Does he do this often?" Paolo asked, knitting his brows. "Push you away like this?"

I shrugged as Paolo closed his book.

"Dunno. We've only hooked up in the past couple of days. Before that we were just friends."

"So you did not come on this trip together?"

I shook my head.

"No, we came with a group, but things happened and we had to separate. That's when we became a couple."

"Do you really like him?" Paolo wanted to know. "He is not taking advantage of you, is he?"

"Ohh, no," I laughed. "Not at all. I've been in love with him for two very long years."

Paolo looked surprised.

"I have always thought that American girls did not get attached that way," he stated bluntly. "The ones I have always met have always been proud not to fall in love."

I snorted.

"Then you met the wrong kind of girl," I informed him. "I bet they were only interested in sex, too, weren't they?"

Paolo nodded, looking confused. He was adorable when he was confused... but then, he was adorable, anyway. He looked like a cross between Antonio Banderas and Leonardo DiCaprio, and had I been single, I probably would have been hitting on him unashamedly. Dale was my conscience.

"So... so the girls I met are not typical American girls?"

"Well, maybe," I admitted. "I'm a little more reserved than most American girls. I don't like to throw myself at guys like a lot of girls do."

Paolo looked thoughtful.

"So... if you were one of 'those' girls, how would you find me?"

I giggled, apprising his svelte physique and handsome face.

"I find you extremely attractive," I told him. "If Dale wasn't my boyfriend, I would probably be trying to get you to kiss me."

"You are faithful? Good for you," Paolo nodded, patting my leg.

His touch stimulated my emotions, and I crossed my legs suggestively. I had always been a flirt, and even now that I was technically taken, I couldn't suppress my urge to tease.

"I try to be. I would want him to do the same."

"You are better than I am," Paolo said, looking away momentarily. "I have a girlfriend as well, but I can't help but imagine myself with you right now."

"Nothing wrong with looking," I smiled. "It's like going to an art gallery. You see the paintings on the wall, and they're beautiful, but you can't touch them. You just have to look."

"It is hard," Paolo continued, "especially when all I want to do is ask you to sleep with me."

I leaned over and offered him my cheek.

"You can kiss me, if you like."

Paolo planted a soft kiss back near my ear, and his warm touch sent a small trickle of liquid into my shorts.

"Is that all I get?" Paolo asked forlornly.

I faced him again and gazed into his longing puppy-dog eyes.

"What else do you want?" I asked.

Paolo's eyes widened.

"I would love to kiss you and feel your breasts," he began, "and to know what you smell like when you are turned on. I want to put your legs over my shoulders and have you again and again until you fall into a sweet sleep."

The man had obviously done all this before, but I couldn't help but feel flattered at his attentions.

"You're just telling me all this because I'm a blonde American girl," I baited him.

"Yes," Paolo admitted, "it is. But I really do love making love with American girls. They are so much more alive than Italian girls."

"What about French girls? I've heard they're good in bed."

Paolo dismissed me with a wave of his well-manicured hand.

"French girls, no. They are good at drinking wine, but not so good in bed. They think everything is about them. American girls are the best."

I grinned.

"So well-traveled," I teased him.

"I suppose," Paolo admitted. "Not too many girls ask me about the other women I've been with."