This is the longest story, and most autobiographical, I have ever submitted. The story is actually a sexual travelogue that I hope to continue through several different countries and experiences that I am familiar with while developing the characters. Because of the length involved I have broken the story down into chapters, something I have not done in my previous stories. My intention is to give the reader some travel ideas wrapped into a good tale of sexual and personal exploration while dealing with the sex and its risks in today's world in a real manner.
It all began one Saturday afternoon in May when my husband Jeremy and I ran into a dejected Lucinda Orubixe in the travel department of Seattle's biggest book store.
Lucinda is a backpacker who supports her travel habit by teaching in the Seattle schools system as an elementary teacher. Jeremy and I do the same thing in the secondary school system of Seattle.
We first met Lucinda in Bilbao at The Guggenheim. Jeremy and I were on our way to Santiago de Compostela. It was the second summer that we had walked the ancient pilgrim route. The first summer we had started from le Puy-en-Velay and we were finally finishing the walk. I am not really big on hiking, but when you don't make a lot of money and you choose Europe to travel in it is about the only alternative to a Eurailpass. I had done that before, in fact that was how I met Jeremy for the second time and we both agreed that if you really want to see Europe trains just don't go to many of the most interesting places. Since car rental was more than we could really afford we decided to spend the last two summers walking through France and Spain.
Lucinda was not going to Santiago. She was, in her words, "On a pilgrimage to The Oak."
When we asked what she was talking about she explained to us that her parents were Basque and that she spoke some of the language herself. When we asked if she had family in the area she told us that her parents were both orphaned on the 26th of April 1937 and that they came to America after they left the orphanage for a life as far from Franco as they could get. Lucinda could see that we were puzzled and she told us the story of how her grandparents on both sides went to the market that morning and one set of grandparents left a baby girl behind and the other set of grandparents left behind a baby boy. That morning Franco had a Nazi German air squadron bomb the market place and those two surviving orphans were her parents.
"The name of their village was Gernika, you know it as Guernica from Picasso's painting." Lucinda told us as her voice began to break and then she said with contempt in her voice, "What kind of a world do we live in that Franco would be allowed to die a natural death in his old age?"
When I asked her what about the oak tree you are making a pilgrimage to? She answered, "The Gernika Oak was one of the places where the lords of Biscay came to swear that they would respect the privileges of the Basque people. What is left of the oak is in a small temple behind the Casa de Juntas and that is what I am going to see."
When we found out we were all teachers in Seattle we decided to do the tapas bars together before we all went on our separate pilgrimages. Lucinda was a lot of fun to go bar hopping with. When ever we entered into a bar we were glad that we had Jeremy with us because every man in every bar we went in would hungrily stare at us. Lucinda is five four and has jet black hair, beautiful white complexion and piercing blue eyes. She also has a dynamite body that exudes an earthy sexuality. She has a throaty laugh and a way of tossing her head back and her hair off her shoulders that always gets attention. That night in Bilbao we bought very few drinks and she fit into the tapas scene perfectly and knocked out the locals with her few words of Basque.
To be honest I guess that I turned my fair share of heads that night too. I won a few beauty contests in my late teens and early twenties that I entered for the scholarships. I am now 28 years old and I haven't put a pound on since my freshman year of college when I blossomed into the 34C-24-34 that I am today. I have often been told that I look like a young Cybille Shepard. I come from a Scandinavian background and I am your typical long legged blond and at five eight a little on the tall side while Lucinda is a little on the short side. Lucinda often tells me that the only ass she would ever trade for is mine and I laugh and tell her that she has a better bum than I do, but she just can't see it. When she told me that the same was true for me we both agreed that the only way to know was to ask a third party and Lucinda walked up to some poor guy on the street and said, "Which of us do you think has the best ass?"
The guy turned red in embarrassment and finally said, "You are both so beautiful that I think anyone who would try and answer that question would make an ass of himself." And Lucinda laughed and gave his ass a squeeze and walked away. That sort of behavior was typical of Lucinda. She is one of the most honest and uninhibited women I have ever known.
Unfortunately Lucinda smokes like a chimney and although it doesn't limit her social life in Spain, we seldom invite her over as we and all of our friends are non-smokers. But we were always happy to meet up with her in the city in areas where, if she wanted to smoke she would have to pop outside. But even being in the same room with her the smell of nicotine and cigarettes would be so pervasive that it would stick to our clothes and hair and leave a sick taste on our tongues.
We noticed immediately that she did not smell of cigarettes and that she was chewing gum at a furious rate. It was also evident that she was sad and depressed and when she said, "This is ridiculous, I feel a real sense of loss. I feel like I have been kindly and gently shot down by a lover and I just met him for the first time for lunch and besides that he is unattractive and old."
At that point we both said, "Lucinda, what the hell are you talking about?" and she handed us an ad that she had downloaded from a travel site on the internet that we all use.
The ad read:
"If you are interested in first class travel, accommodation in some of Europe's finest and most exclusive hotels and fine dining at Europe's greatest restaurants while touring Europe in the comfort of a new Mercedes Benz then you should consider my proposal. I am seeking an attractive female traveling companion in her late twenties to early thirties to share travel experiences with. If you are well educated and want to learn more about the world and yourself we can arrange to meet and establish our travel ground rules. If you are a smoker, vegetarian or teetotaler you need not apply. I am also willing to consider couples that meet the above requirements. I am an affluent, well traveled 60 year old single male who is conversant in several European languages and knows Europe quite well and would like to share that knowledge with a compatible companion or companions. I am not seeking any sexual contact, but I am a voyeur and would expect to be invited to observe your sexual liaisons and adventures."
I looked at Lucinda in disbelief and said, "You answered this ad?"
"Suze don't be so judgmental. I am sick of backpacking. My blisters have blisters. I am tired of being cold and wet whenever I travel. I often hook up with, and even sleep with, guys that I don't particularly care for in order to have some security on the road when I hitchhike."
"Ok, Ok," I answered, "But you are a chain smoker."
"Not since last night at 10:30 PM." She answered while furiously chewing her gum.
"You really think you can quit?" Jeremy interjected.
"I thought I could quit long enough to get through the interview and see if I could stand the guy, and if I could, maybe he would like me enough to not be bothered, or maybe I would like him enough to really give the damn things up."
"What happened?" I asked.
"He invited me to lunch at ‘Entre les Deux Ponts' and…"
"Wow, nice place to have lunch, the guy is a big spender!" Jeremy exclaimed.
"…and when I came into the lounge he was what I expected; an unattractive, overweight and bald sixty year old man, but I figured if nothing else it would be a free lunch. When he shook my hand he held it a little longer than normal and that gave me the creeps, but within seconds we were led away to our table and he put me at my ease and we ordered. When he discussed the wine choice with the wine steward I was very impressed when he noticed a wine from the smallest VDQS in France."
"What does that mean?" Jeremy asked.
"I didn't know either, but what impressed me was the way that impressed the wine steward, and you know how snobby that restaurant is and a few minutes later the owner himself came out and he knew the guy and called him by his first name and said that he knew immediately who the diner was because only one man in Seattle would recognize that wine."
"So what does BDOS stand for?" Jeremy asked again.
"It's VDQS and it stands for Vin Denomination Quality Superior," answered Lucinda with a degree of impatience in her voice.
"Jeremy, that's not important, let Lucinda tell us what happened." I said.
"After we ordered he smiled at me and the first thing he says is, "Lucinda how long has it been since your last cigarette?" I couldn't believe it! I had picked up the pants suit that morning from the dry cleaners and had shampooed my hair twice in the shower; my two nicotine patches were well hidden and I had spit out the gum just prior to entering the restaurant. An embarrassed silence hung over the table for what seemed like eternity and then I said in a shaking voice that I would leave now and he said don't be silly let's have a nice lunch together and get to know one another. After a few minutes we were laughing when he told me how he knew and I told him Sherlock Holmes did smoke a pipe you know."
"How did he know?" Jeremy asked.
"After he shook my hand he smelled his hand on the way back to our table. Then when we sat down the first thing he did was look at my right hand and he saw the nicotine stains on my fingers. He explained to me that he had never smoked and that it would just not be much fun for either of us to travel together and I have to admit the way I feel right now I am unfit for human companionship. I want a cigarette so bad I am ready to kill someone"
We both looked at her in astonishment; because it was now three in the afternoon and we had never seen Lucinda without a cigarette for longer than fifteen minutes!
"So what was he liked?" I asked.
"He was brainy and fun to be with. He has lived in five different European countries and speaks or can get by in Swedish, German, Italian and French. I liked him, he was open and totally honest with me and I think he liked me too except for the smoking thing. We had a good laugh when I said to him that at least I wasn't a vegetarian or a teetotaler."
"Yeah, what's the guy got against vegetarians?" asked Jeremy who had once tried to be a vegetarian for about a week before he decided that PETA should stand for People Eating Tasty Animals.
Lucinda laughed for the first time when she said, "I couldn't agree with him more. He said that most, if not all, vegetarians were a giant pain in the ass. It was not only difficult for them to find something to eat in a restaurant, but they always seem to have a self-righteous attitude around meat eaters. He told me that he likes pate de foie gras and with a good sauterne and doesn't want some self-righteous dip shit to ruin his enjoyment of either."
I remember now, only because Jeremy would remind me of it later, that I said, "Sounds like my kinda guy!"
That was when Lucinda handed me the copy of the ad she had downloaded and said, "You two would be perfect for him and I am sure you both would not mind traveling through a Europe that none of us would probably ever get to know otherwise."
"I don't think so." I answered.
"Send him an email and the worse thing that can happen is you two will get a free lunch." Lucinda answered returning to her cheeky self.
"She's right." My husband piped in taking the paper out of my hand.
Lucinda smiled ruefully and said, "You know, he's the first man I have ever tried to quit for, but I don't think I can do it, and even if I did, we both know I would relapse when we were on the road together."
Later that evening when my husband told me that he had sent an email and we had a lunch date tomorrow I went ballistic.
I screamed at Jeremy, "What the hell were you thinking! You read that ad. The man is a pervert who wants to watch us fuck! Do you want to whore out our sex life so that we can travel around Europe in comfort?"
Jeremy floored me when he said, "Why not? Its not like we haven't had an audience before and you not only didn't seem to mind that audience you were more than willing to…"
"That never would have happened if you had not engineered the whole thing and I am beginning to think you did so to insure that you would be warm and dry…." I began to retort before he cut me off.
"You seem to forget that you were warm and dry too." Jeremy sneered.
"Yes, I was but we sure did not have to have sex that night with him on the other side of me." I shouted back at him.
"You did not seem to mind sharing yourself with him and you were very eager to show him your special talent weren't you?" My husband said hitting below the belt.
"At least he was willing to please me in the same way and that is more than I can say for you." I said that to my husband knowing that we were now fighting on very dangerous ground.
Jeremy then said, "Its not like you are miss purity, I may not have been one of the in crowd on campus, but I knew about your reputation."
"It was only a reputation Jeremy, you were the first man I ever slept with and you know it!" I said to him as my voice began to shake and my eyes began to fill with tears.
"Yes, but I wasn't the last was I?" He said going too far and damaging our marriage irreparably.
I did have a reputation in college and I have to admit I should not have been so innocent as to think that the stories that circulated about me would not become widely exaggerated.
I know it may sound conceited, but I was the best looking girl in my high school but I was pretty shy and did not start dating anyone seriously until my senior year. Tom and I became high school sweethearts, but other than some pretty heavy petting I would not let things progress as far as Tom would have liked. One night the summer after we graduated things progressed to the point that I had his penis in my hand and he begged me to masturbate him until he came all over us and the car making a real mess. It was a miracle that we cleaned ourselves and the car up enough to not be found out by our parents.
The next night he wanted me to do the same and I have to admit I loved having his silky hardness in my hand and found it very erotic to have that kind of power and control over him as he squirmed under my ministrations. But when he began to groan that he was going to cum I got panicked about making a mess again and decided to give into my desire and curiosity about what it would be like and what it would taste like if he came in my mouth. I knew I had to do something or we would make another mess of ourselves and his parents' car as well. When I lowered my head and engulfed the head of his penis in my mouth we both moaned in pleasure. I loved the slightly salty taste of his precum and the hard yet soft silky feeling of his cock in my mouth, but most of all I loved the effect I was having on him and I began to suck harder and harder on his penis as his hips began to push more and more of himself into my virgin mouth.
When he came he was shouting, "Oh God I love you so much Suze" over and over again and that was something he had never said to me before.
After that fellatio became an almost nightly occurrence for us. Tom was content with being orally satisfied and no longer pressured me to have intercourse with him and our relationship became stronger because we were both satisfied with the situation. I loved the feeling of power fellatio gave me. I was totally in control and I enjoyed it. Tom became devoted to me in everyway and I started experimenting on ways to improve my technique that drove him wild. I gradually became more and more sophisticated in my approach.
I loved it when we would go into the country on picnics because it was impossible to make eye contact with him when I had him in my mouth in the car and I loved looking into his eyes and at his expression of pure awe and gratitude as I pleased him with my now very experienced and hungry mouth. I became very adept at what I learned later was called ‘deep throating' and I would often vary what I would do when Tom would find his release in my mouth.
Sometimes I would pull back until I just had the very tip of his penis in my mouth as he ejaculated and I would look up into his eyes as I held him daintily between my thumb and index finger as he shot more and more cum into my mouth. Sometimes I would be unable to look into his eyes because I would have every inch of him totally in my mouth and my nose would be pressed right against his pubic bone. I would sometimes time perfectly when his first ejaculate was surging through his loins and would pull my mouth back a few inches and hold my mouth open in greedy expectation. I use to love the look on his face when I did that and the feeling of being able to absolutely control him and the situation gave me such a tremendous feeling of exultation.
My first year of college we emailed each other daily and I turned down every invitation I got until I was considered a stuck-up snob who was in love with her own good looks. And then as time went on Tom would take longer and longer to answer my emails and the next summer I was not surprised when he told me he had met someone else and we broke up.
My sophomore year I decided to try and change the unfair image that everyone had of me and during rush week I accepted an invitation to a toga party. Darrel was a junior studying political science. He was well known and well liked on campus and was the president of his fraternity. Darrel was considered a real ‘catch' and I was told by my roommates in the dorm that his fraternity's toga parties were pretty wild affairs. I was excited about the invitation, but I decided in advance that I was not ready to sleep with him if that was what it took to get a second date.
The night of the toga party I was amazed at what was going on around me in the dimly lit room. Darrel kept trying to get me out of my toga and by the end of the party we were a little out of sorts with one another from his constant, but unsuccessful attempts to seduce me. On the way home Darrel asked me, "Are you always such a prude, or is it just me?"
"I'm no prude." I answered defensively and when he said, "Yeah sure," with a smirk on his face, I am not sure what came over me, but in a fit of pique I reached across the seat and unzipped his fly and as he drove down the highway I went down on him with every bit of expertise I knew. He finally had to pull the car over into a supermarket parking lot to keep from crashing. When I felt him pulsing into my mouth with his hands on the back of my head I smiled to myself, or tried to with my lips still wrapped around his still pulsing penis.
I kept him in my mouth until he had totally deflated and then I began what I called ‘making a rubber band hard'. It took sometime, but soon Darrel was flopping around on the seat like a fish out of water and when I could tell he was getting close to the point of no return I pulled my mouth free of him with a popping sound and brought my face up to his and said, "Do you still think I'm a prude?" And licked my upper and lower lips with my tongue.