It was summer, between semesters at my college, and I decided to follow in the path of my ancestors and do the European tour. I bought by Euro Pass and converted my Yankee dollars to Euros. I packed what I needed in my back pack; my needs were few in those days: a few clean sets of undergarments, two pairs of jeans, an odd assortment of my American logo t-shirts and a spare set of comfortable walking shoes. Of course, a map, a notebook and a camera completed my selection and off I went.
I was two months into my journey when I arrived at that ancient city, Budapest. It was a delightful place to tour and my feet, not quite in as good a shape as when I had departed America, found themselves wandering of their own accord about the city. My family, many generations ago, had come from this area so it was a familiar place to me deep inside my blood.
I had only been in the youth hostel there for two nights and was out wandering the city, looking for some sort of local entertainment to wile away the hours until I could sleep. I was walking down an old fashioned stone walk when I heard a cry, a feminine sounding cry, coming from a dark alley way to my right. I dashed down it and found a young woman prone on the stones there in the twilight, not quite dark yet but almost there. I asked if she needed assistance and her cry of "yes!" made me realize she was an American like me.
I extended my hand and helped her to her feet, noticing in the growing darkness a small cut above her right eye. I took my clean bandana from my pocket and pressed it to the cut. Taking her arm, I led her back down the alley way to a café I had spotted at the entrance. Once inside, I requested some ice and a cloth napkin of the waiter who led us to a quiet table in the corner. The ice delivered, I bundled it inside the napkin and made sure my patient held it to her forehead to prevent swelling.
The waiter brought us a pot of steaming tea and I poured a cup for each of us. She indicated she would take a bit of milk and I stirred it in for her before placing the cup before her.
She told me she had been jumped from behind by someone and she did not know why, for they did not attempt to take her purse which she still clung to tightly underneath her arm. I asked if she wished to report the incident to the authorities. She shook her head and whispered about being an American in a strange land. Then she smiled and it lit her face so lovely, I could not look away.
She had fair hair, long to her shoulders and a fair complexion. She wore a pale pink lipstick and very little makeup. She was very pretty and did not need it. I wondered what she thought of my swarthy complexion and dark eyes, my dark curly hair and my athletic build but I did not ask her.
We soon began to converse as old friends and she filled me in on her life. She was raised in the Midwest in a large catholic family. She had three sisters and two brothers and her father was a professor at a very well known college there. Her mother was a homemaker and freelance writer who often took her father's notes, made sense of them and got them published. I had heard of both of them and was pleased to meet their daughter Elena. She was attending classes, with no declared major, at the college her father taught at but found herself becoming apathetic. She told her parents she wished to see the world and, being the generous loving parents they were, they sent her with their blessings to Europe.
She had originally been traveling with a girlfriend but she was called home suddenly due to a family emergency and so Elena continued on alone. She had not been frightened, feeling very at home in this exciting country, until she had been attacked in the alleyway.
I told her of my own life, of my parents in New Jersey, of my own studies at the famous college in Manhattan. I told her of my liberal older sister, bent on saving the world. Every day, she packed sack lunches: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a granola bar, a box of juice and a $1 calling card she had specially printed with the large note "Call Home!" She took it upon herself to distribute them among the homeless of the city, making a point of reminding all who would listen that giving them money would not help them get off the street but undoubtedly only feed their addiction whatever it may be. She had the paper sacks she used printed special as well and on the outside was listed a number of shelters and agencies who could and would help those who genuinely wanted it. By day, my sister worked in the financial district and made a great deal of money but spent the majority of her income on helping the homeless.
My younger brother was still in high school and I told her about him as well, how he loved soccer and looked up to his siblings with a kind of hero worship.
I told her of my home life, the old world feel of it where my mother deferred always to my father. She was also a homemaker while my father toiled the day away as the Manager of a factory in Newark.
We sat and talked for a long while. The waiter brought us menus and we ordered food, eating it without really noticing it as we continued to become acquainted. It was hours later when the waiter stood at my elbow politely clearing his throat and advising us he needed to close up.
I paid the bill and took Elena's hand, guiding her out onto the street and around the corner down the alleyway she had been attacked in and towards her own hostel. She shivered in the dark and leaned against me and I wrapped my arm about her possessively. When we reached the spot where I had found her, I turned her into my arms and kissed her passionately, pressing her back against the wall.
She returned my kiss just as passionately and I eased her skirt up about her waist. My hands then undid my jeans, my cock hard and ready for her already. One finger slid between her legs, pulling her panties away from her sweet cunt and I slid inside her.
Her fingers clenched my shoulders as I buried my length into her wetness. She was panting into my shoulder as I fucked her there in the dark. My cock slid in and out of her quickly, I was extremely aroused and I came fast into her womb.
She shuddered with pleasure as my hot sticky cum filled her and she relaxed against me. I bent down and bit her neck and she moaned with passion. Then I took her back to her hostel and we made arrangements to meet the next day.
The next few days, we were together constantly. We made love in her room, my room, in dark alleys, on the bank of the river. We could not get enough of each other; we were so hungry for it.
After three days of our constant fucking, I took her to the American Embassy and we advised them we wished to be married. They were very cordial and cooperative, smoothing the way for the paperwork. Within a week, Elena was mine as we exchanged vows right inside the Embassy. I called my parents and told them I had a wife and she would be coming home with me, to make my room ready. They told me it would be done.
After the ceremony, I took Elena back to my room. Her face shined with happiness and she kissed me. I put her at arms length and sternly told her that from this day forward, I was the Master. She would call me Master. And she would worship me as I desired.
She smiled, nervous, as I instructed her to remove my shoes and socks. Then I told her to kiss and lick my feet, and she obeyed. When I was satisfied, I ordered her to take my cock in her mouth. She undid my pants and slid my cock free, taking it willingly down her throat.
She had never performed orally on me before and I was in heaven. Her mouth was warm and wet and she knew exactly how to please me. She looked up at me worshipfully with those big blue eyes as my hips slapped against her face, fucking her mouth with fast intensity.
Soon I came, filling her mouth which she swallowed with a smile. I pulled her tightly into my arms, affectionately marking her neck with my teeth. She fell asleep with a smile of submission upon her lips.
The next evening, we boarded our flight to New Jersey and headed to our new home.
She was a good girl, very pleasing and I looked forward to introducing her to my family. As we crossed the threshold of our home, my parents came forward to greet us. Weary after our long flight, I led my wife to my room. My childhood bed had been replaced with a comfortable double and a new dresser had been left for my wife's things.
I instructed her to unpack and I watched as she did so, reclining on the new bed so wonderfully covered with freshly washed linens by my mother. When Elena had completed her chores, she turned to me and I wiggled my shod feet at her. She quickly crossed and slid my shoes and socks off then began to worship my bare feet with her mouth and tongue.
When I was satisfied, a snap of my fingers brought her mouth to my crotch and she began to suck and lick on my hardening cock. I allowed her to continue her ministrations until I had enough and then, grabbing her by her waist, I turned her about so her back was facing me and slowly pressed by cock inside her wet hot cunt.
She rode me like a wild thing, her long hair whipping across her back, as I thrust up inside her again and again. Finally, my balls released their seed and she came at the same moment, crying out so loudly I knew everyone in the house had heard her. I smiled. I was not embarrassed and I would not allow her to be either.
Satiated, I pulled her to my chest; her head nestled beneath my chin. I asked her if she was hungry and she admitted she was starved. We took quick showers and dressed casually as we headed downstairs for supper.
My father, brother and sister were already at the table as I led Elena into the room. They all smiled at her as we took our seats at the table. I fondly stroked her neck as she smiled into my eyes, content. The swinging door to the kitchen opened and in stepped my mother with our meal. It was a lovely girl, long dark hair, dark eyes, her arms bound behind her, her ankles secured together, and a gag around her mouth. Mother pushed her gently into the room and placed her on her back upon the table.
Father blessed the meal and welcomed Elena to the family then we all bowed our heads and began our feast.
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