Chapter 35

Our flight to London departed on June 19, and we had a lot to do before then. We spent most of the time getting ready, shopping for travel essentials and trying to decide what to take with us. We also had to get our passports in a hurry. Chris made a few calls and we had to pay a rush fee, but we got them with time to spare.

Finally, the day of our departure arrived. My family had delayed their trip to camp so they could see us off. Erin and Leah were also excited about us going (and bringing things back for them, of course). We had a care package for Gina’s grandparents, including pictures and other mementos.

Gina and I had used some of our spending money to buy new clothes, and I bought a 35mm camera. I wanted to take pictures of European architecture, or anything else that caught my eye. We also bought a Berlitz guide to Europe. We spent an entire night looking through the book, searching for the best vacation spots in southern Europe. Finally, we decided to spend a few days on Ibiza (an island in the Mediterranean, near Spain), but we hadn’t decided where else to go.

On the flight over, we could barely contain our enthusiasm. As was my habit, I quickly befriended the stewardesses, and they suggested a few cool nightspots in London. The women thought it was wonderful that our parents would give us a trip to Europe as a graduation gift.

When the after-dinner movie was over, the crew dimmed the cabin lights and Gina and I tried to get some sleep. Unfortunately, we were both too keyed up. When I felt her hand creeping toward my zipper, I looked around. Most of the other first-class passengers were asleep, and the stewardesses were back in the galley, so no one would see us. Gina had figured out the same thing.

Slowly, she extracted my erection, then ducked under the blanket and sucked me into her mouth. In the dim cabin, her head bobbed up and down as she quietly fellated me. I tried to stifle a groan as I came, but I wasn’t all that successful. Fortunately, no one was awake to hear it.

Gina sat up and wiped the corners of her mouth, smiling smugly. Then she guided my hand under her skirt. The crotch of her panties was soaked. Both of us knew we couldn’t actually have sex in the seats, so she talked me into joining her in one of the lavatories. I tucked my saliva-slick manhood back into my pants and stood up.

The younger of the two first-class stewardesses looked up as we entered the galley. When Gina put a finger to her lips and gestured toward the lavatory, the stewardess simply smiled and put her own finger to her lips, admonishing us to be quiet.

Sex in an airplane lavatory is cramped. It’s awkward as well. But it’s also incredibly exciting. Gina merely slipped her panties off, unbuttoned my pants, and then sucked me for a few minutes. When she had me hard again, she stood up and turned around. As she bent over, she looked over her shoulder at me. Her expression was smoldering.

I slid into her pussy with ease and then grabbed her hips. With practiced, measured strokes, I fucked her. Her hand was a blur on her clit as she drove herself toward her own climax. She came quickly—and quietly—but I kept thrusting as her internal muscles clenched me. Finally, I buried myself deep inside her and filled her with my seed.

After we cleaned up, we tentatively opened the lavatory door. To our relief, no one was in sight. Much to our surprise, however, the young stewardess brought us two glasses of champagne after we reached our seats.

“Welcome to the mile-high club,” she said softly, grinning.

We arrived in London and Gina’s grandparents, Ramesh and Arundhati Narayan, met us at the gate. Gina simply called them “Nana” and “Nani.” From the airport, we took one of London’s famous black taxis to a house in a very nice neighborhood. To my surprise, her grandparents rather casually ensconced Gina and me in the same bedroom. When I asked Gina about it when we were alone, she actually blushed.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“What?” I pressed.

“Nani called the day before we left Atlanta,” Gina explained. “She wanted to know if they should put us in the same bedroom or not.”

“What did you tell her? Oh, duh. Never mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goof.” Then she smiled to take the edge off her words. “Nani told me, ‘Now that you’re a woman, you should enjoy a man. They’re good for a few things now and then.’”

“Your grandmother said that?”

“Uh-huh. I told you she’s cool.”

“No kidding.”

After relaxing a little bit, to get the kinks out of our muscles, we unpacked a few things and then went downstairs. Gina’s grandmother had fixed lunch—rice, chicken, and flatbread—so we sat down to eat. The food was very good, with just the right amount of spice and exotic flavor. While we ate, we talked.

Gina’s grandfather was a doctor, with a normally serious demeanor that hid a playful sense of humor. Her grandmother was a quiet woman. At first, I thought she was shy, but I quickly realized she was merely thoughtful. And she never missed an opportunity to tease her husband, puncturing his ego whenever she thought he was being too clever. They were a very loving, open couple, and I could see where Gina’s mom got her personality.

“I’m sure you’re completely knackered after your trip,” Gina’s grandmother said after lunch. “Why don’t you go lie down and have a nice nap.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Gina said, stifling a yawn as she stood.

I stood as well and thanked Gina’s grandmother for lunch. Then we headed upstairs. Once in our bedroom, we shed our clothes and slipped into bed. I wrapped my arms around Gina and was asleep in minutes.

For the first few days of our visit, we took the usual tours: Big Ben, Parliament, the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, and too many other places to list. We rode the famous double-decker buses and had fun riding the Underground. (Well, we didn’t really have fun riding the Tube, since it was always so crowded—something to do with new ticket prices—but we had to ride it, just to say we’d done it.)

In addition, the city was positively awash with news of the royal wedding. Prince Charles and Lady Diana had their pictures everywhere. Selfridges, a big department store, had three huge commemorative banners hanging from the front of their building. Gina thought the wedding was romantic, and I could see how it would be easy to get caught up in the excitement of it all.

In the evenings, we planned the rest of our trip. First, we wanted to spend a few days in Paris. Neither of us spoke a word of French, but between Gina’s Latin, my rudimentary Spanish, and a good Berlitz dictionary, we knew we’d survive.

From Paris, we planned to travel south, to the island of Ibiza. It was a very popular destination for a lot of Europeans. Many British tourists went to Tenerife, in the Canary Islands, but Ibiza appealed to us more. Since the island was a protectorate of Spain, I’d hopefully get to try out my Spanish.

After Ibiza, we didn’t really know where we wanted to go. We definitely wanted to see Rome and Venice, but we also wanted to see a lot of other places, like Greece (I really wanted to see Greek architecture firsthand). In addition, we wanted to see places like Mozart’s home in Salzburg and the Gothic cathedral in Cologne.

We thought we’d lie on the beach in Ibiza and decide where all we wanted to go. When we leafed through our Berlitz guide to Europe, everyplace looked cool. We didn’t argue about it at all. Far from it. We simply wanted to see too many things, and we fed on each other’s enthusiasm.

Finally, we re-packed our things for the trip to Paris. We promised to call Gina’s grandparents regularly, to let them know how we were doing (and where we were). We also told them we’d let them know when to expect our return to London.

Gina and I both wanted to do some shopping in the city’s major department stores, as well as some of the smaller shops. So we planned to return to London several days before our flight back to the U.S.

Paris was amazing. We saw all the touristy things: the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Sacré Coeur, the Louvre, Montmartre, and the Jeu de Paume with all the Impressionist art (Gina was surprised that I could tell her so much about the artists).

Paris in late June is usually hot, but the weather was actually fairly cool. In the mornings, we needed to wear jackets (which we’d had to buy in a local shop). Toward the afternoon, it usually warmed up and the weather was beautiful, almost spring-like.

The franc was at a new low versus the dollar, so we got a lot of souvenirs and shipped them back to Gina’s grandparents. We even got these really cool little cassette players with lightweight headphones. We could wear the players on our belts and listen to music any time we wanted. Needless to say, we kept those with us.

Paris was a very different city than we were used to. We drank wine with lunch and dinner, but it was almost impossible to get a Coke with ice. I remembered how much it irked me when Mark and Todd Zachary blathered about “how they do things in California,” however, so I kept my mouth shut about “how we do things in America.”

We picked up a few phrases in French, but we were hopeless when it came to understanding the flowing, lively speech of Parisians. We quickly realized, though, that as long as we tried to speak French, people were eager to help us. With only a limited vocabulary and a good attitude, we got around with ease and had a blast.

On Ibiza, we found a hotel near the beach. Gina went topless on the beach itself, like the majority of the women under forty. Our second day there, our plans for the rest of the trip changed drastically—we made some new friends.

When Gina and I were having lunch at a beachside café, she noticed another couple our age. They were just coming up from the beach, walking toward us. Gina flicked her eyes toward the attractive—and topless—girl, inviting me to look. When I raised my eyes, the chestnut-haired girl gazed right at me and we made eye contact.

I was busted.

I momentarily panicked, but then smiled to cover my embarrassment. To my relief, the girl smiled in return. Then she and the guy sat at a table next to ours.

Gina resumed our conversation, but I wasn’t paying attention. I tried not to seem distracted as I surreptitiously checked out the newcomers. The girl was a couple of inches taller than Gina, but curvy and lush, with full, round breasts and a flat stomach. The guy was tall, dark-skinned, and aristocratically handsome. When Gina asked me a question, I turned to ask her to repeat herself, but the girl at the next table interrupted me before I could open my mouth.

“Excuse me,” she asked in British-accented English, “are you American?”

Gina and I were taken by surprise, but nodded.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” the girl said, “but I heard you talking about the nightclubs.”

Was that what Gina had been talking about? I wondered.

“Some are cool,” the girl volunteered, “but some are more for old people. If you like, we can tell you which are the good ones.”

“Cool,” Gina said. “That’d be nice, thanks.”

The girl told us about some clubs, and Gina asked a few questions. When it looked like the conversation was picking up, Gina paused.

“Would you like to join us?” she asked the other couple, gesturing toward the two empty chairs at our table.

“Thank you,” the girl replied, smiling as she did. Then she and the guy stood and moved to our table. “I am Annika,” she said. “This is Tomás.”

“My girlfriend, Gina,” I said, gesturing. “And I’m Paul.” Then I reached across the table to shake Tomás’s hand; his grip was firm and a little challenging. I made eye contact with him and gave a little squeeze of my own. His smile flashed even, white teeth, and then he released my hand.

When I turned to shake Annika’s hand, she arched an eyebrow. I tried not to blush at her appraising glance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tomás kiss Gina’s hand. I released Annika’s hand and she smiled again. Then, with confident ease, Tomás pulled out the chair next to Gina and sat down. Annika moved her chair closer to mine—ostensibly to get out of the walkway—and sat down.

“Are you here on holiday?” Annika asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, nodding. “We’re here for a month.”

“A month on Ibiza?” she asked.

“No,” Gina explained, “we’re in Europe for a month.”

“In reality,” I added, “we’re just on Ibiza to relax for a couple of days while we figure out where we want to go next.”

“This is your first time in Europe?”

Gina and I both nodded.

“What about you?” I asked. “Do you live here?”

“Sometimes,” Annika said.

“Sometimes?”

“My father has a house here,” Annika said, shrugging. “But most of the time, I live in Amsterdam.”

Gina turned to Tomás and asked him, “Are you from Holland, too?”

He shook his head. “España,” he said. “Uh ... Spain.”

“Oh?” Gina said. “Where in Spain?”

Smiling, he told us he was from Barcelona. His English was heavily accented and slow, but understandable. I wanted to try out some of my Spanish, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. When Gina told Annika that I spoke the language, they coaxed me into saying a few things in my halting high school Spanish. Tomás complimented me, but I could tell he was just being polite.

As the afternoon progressed, we had a few more drinks and talked about all sorts of things, from the beach and the island itself to the nightlife and clubs. Annika and Tomás were an interesting couple, although I wasn’t sure if they were boyfriend-girlfriend or not. Tomás wasn’t rude about it, but he didn’t make it a secret that he was interested in Gina. Under the table, Annika occasionally rubbed my lower calf with her foot. The contact wasn’t overt, but it was certainly suggestive. So I began to wonder exactly what kind of relationship the two of them had.

I was hoping to steer the conversation in that direction when Annika suddenly said, “Let’s have a party tonight, Tomás, in honor of our new American friends.”

Tomás flashed a brilliant white smile in Gina’s direction and then nodded.

“We can get the gang together,” Annika said to Tomás, “at the villa.”

He nodded again.

“The villa?” I asked.

“My father’s house,” Annika explained. “So, you will come?”

Gina looked at me questioningly. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know how much she wanted to go.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Cool,” Annika said, laying her hand on my arm. “It will be fun.”

While Annika and Tomás retrieved their things from one of the kiosks with lockers, Gina and I slipped back to our hotel room and quickly changed clothes. Then we met the other couple back at the café.

“I will take you, Paul,” Annika said. “Tomás can take Gina. Okay?”

At first, I wondered what she was talking about. Then I saw the row of scooters we were walking toward.

“Sure,” Gina said, before I could answer.

Tomás hopped onto his scooter, and Gina got behind him without hesitation. Annika climbed onto her scooter and looked at me expectantly as Tomás and Gina zoomed off. When I settled behind the Dutch girl, she wiggled her ass against my crotch and then laughed playfully.

“Put your arms around me to hold on,” she said.

“Oh, sorry.”

Annika’s stomach was smooth and firm, and I was sorely tempted to move my hands higher, to the softness of her breasts. She wore a loose pair of shorts and a light top, but her breasts were free beneath it. I could feel them sway as she negotiated the turns out of the resort town.

Thinking about her breasts, I felt myself begin to stiffen. She must have felt it too, because she turned to me and smiled. I tried to think about mundane things (like nuns playing baseball), but my dick refused to cooperate. Since Annika didn’t seem to mind, I ignored my half-hard manhood and simply enjoyed the ride.

When we got to her father’s house, we pulled into a small carport. I got off the scooter and stared at the house, although “house” might be an understatement. Palace might be a better word. Estate might be the best word, though. As Annika gave us a tour, Gina asked her about the house.

“My father owns a shipping company in the Netherlands,” Annika explained.

“It must be a big company,” I half-muttered.

“It is the largest in northern Europe,” she said.

“So how do you and Tomás know each other?” Gina asked, changing the subject.

“My father was married to his mother,” Annika explained. “When I was thirteen and Tomás was fourteen.”

“So you’re step-brother and step-sister?” I asked.

“We used to be,” Annika said with a shrug, her eyes twinkling.

That almost explained their attitude toward each other, but it was obvious they’d probably been much closer.

“We should plan our party,” Annika said suddenly. “Tomás, you and Gina go out and see who you can round up. Paul and I will ring up Mia. She should know where to find the rest of the gang.”

Tomás nodded, smiled at Gina, and offered her his hand. Gina looked a question at me and I nodded in reply. In a moment, they were back out the door, headed for Tomás’s scooter.

When Annika got off the phone, she joined me at the back of the house.

“Mia and the others will be here soon,” she said, slipping her arm through mine.

“Cool,” I said distractedly. She had taken off her blouse, and I decided to focus on the scenery instead of the softness of her breast. “If you’ve got a private beach like this,” I asked, pointing over the veranda to the Mediterranean beyond, “why do you go to the public beach?”

“Tomás was bored,” she said. “We like to go where there are other people, to hang out. It is a good thing, you know? Besides, if we had not gone, we might not have met you.”

“Yeah.” I paused for a moment to compose myself and then asked, “So what’s up with you and Tomás? Are you two boyfriend-girlfriend or what?”

“You mean, ‘Are we lovers?’”

I felt my face heat.

“We used to be,” she said frankly, chuckling. “Does that bother you?”

I quickly shook my head.

“Good,” she said, giving me another appraising look. Then she grinned mischievously. “I want to cool off before the party. Come on.”

With that, she headed for the pool, shedding her clothes as she went. Her full breasts bounced as she turned to make sure I was following her. Then she took three quick steps and gracefully arced into the bright blue water, raising hardly a splash. When she surfaced, at the other end of the pool, she beckoned to me.

When in Rome... , I thought with a grin.

At the party, there were about fifty people. They were all our age, give or take a few years. As far as I could tell, no one was over the age of twenty-one or twenty-two, except for a few household staff members. When I asked Annika where her father was, she explained that he was in Bali with his new wife.

“He hardly ever comes here, though,” she said. “He only keeps the house because I like it.”

I looked at her blankly, wondering how much money it took to maintain the villa.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and smiling seductively. “Dance with me.”

The music was loud and fast—a mixture of European dance music and American disco—and Annika pulled me onto the improvised dance floor, a trellised porch with flashing lights and a large stereo. I’m not a great dancer, but Annika didn’t seem to mind. Near us, Gina and Tomás were dancing as well.

Once I coaxed Annika off the dance floor, she fixed us drinks (something fruity, but with a healthy alcoholic kick). Gina and Tomás joined us after a few minutes, breathing hard from their dancing. Around us, the party swirled, with people on the dance floor, in the pool, or in and out of the house. Annika, Tomás, and their friends were a lot like us—teenagers enjoying their summer.

By midnight, the party was still going strong, and nobody wore a lot of clothing. The girls in the pool and hot tub were all topless, and at least two were completely nude. Gina and I obviously didn’t have any hang-ups about nudity, which surprised Annika.

“Americans are usually very prudish,” Annika said as we stood just inside the house, looking out at the scene by the pool. She was wearing only a pair of bikini bottoms, and even though I was used to seeing bare breasts, I was having a hard time not sneaking peeks at hers—they were very attractive. She laughed when she noticed my not-so-covert glances. “It is okay,” she said. “I like you looking.” Then she smiled coquettishly. “Do you like them?”

“Very much.”

Her eyes twinkled and then she made a moue. “Sometimes, I do not understand this. Every woman has them,” she said with a shrug. “But I like it when men look at me.” Then she glanced at Gina, who was in the hot tub with Tomás. “Your girlfriend,” Annika asked, “she would be upset that you are looking at another woman?”

I shook my head.

“Why not? She is not jealous?”

“She’s very beautiful herself,” I replied diplomatically. “And she knows I’m not going to run off with the first beautiful girl I see.”

“Ah, but I am not a girl.”

I cocked my head to the side.

“I am a woman.”

“Oh ... um ... yeah ... sorry.”

She laughed, a playful, musical sound. “You are quite handsome when you blush.”

“Um ... thank you. I think.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling mischievously, “wait until later to thank me.”

With that, she looped her arm through mine—which pressed one of her luscious breasts against me—and gently directed us back out to the party. Once there, she slipped away and gestured to Tomás, who took his arm from around Gina and climbed out of the hot tub. Gina used the opportunity to join me.

“Annika’s really hot,” she said, to which I nodded.

“Tomás’s pretty handsome, too,” I replied.

She smiled diffidently.

“What?” I asked, shrugging. “If it’s okay for me to look at girls, then it’s okay for you to look at guys.”

She breathed a small sigh of relief. Then, “He asked me...”

“He asked you what?” I prompted, when it became obvious she wasn’t going to finish. I wasn’t angry, just curious, and it came through in my tone.

“He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere private with him,” she said simply.

I nodded.

“You’re not mad?”

“Do you want to go somewhere private with him?” I asked.

She didn’t answer.

I stepped close and pulled her into my arms. “It’s okay if you do. I mean, we both have sex with other girls. Heck, you wanted me to have sex with Lisa and Heather.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“How?” When she didn’t answer, I continued. “Do you love him?”

She immediately shook her head.

“Do you think he’s cute?”

After a moment, she nodded.

“So, do you want to have sex with him?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. Then she looked up quickly. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it. I swear I won’t. If you want, I’ll tell him—”

“Hold on,” I said soothingly. “Slow down.” When she looked up at me apprehensively, I smiled. “I’m not jealous,” I said. “I know you don’t love him.”

“You’re really not angry?”

“No. I would be, though, if I thought you were falling for him. You’re not, are you?”

She quickly shook her head.

“Then what’s the problem? I love you. I know you love me. Are you going to let him come between us?”

“No,” she said without hesitation.

“Just like I don’t let Heather come between us. And I have sex with Heather.”

“But never alone.”

“So?”

“I don’t think Tomás’s invitation really included you,” she said, smiling tentatively.

“So? If you have sex with him, by yourself, do you think you’ll love me any less?”

She shook her head.

“Will you want to break up with me?”

“No.”

“Do you think you’ll enjoy it?”

She blushed.

“Would it bother you if I had sex with Annika? By myself?” I asked.

“No,” she said at once.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I know you love me.”

“See? It works both ways. You trust me and I trust you. I trusted you with Scott.”

“That was different.”

“How?” I asked.

“You were in the other room.”

I nodded. “And tonight, I’ll probably be just down the hall. Tomás’s got a room here, right?”

She nodded. “Are you going to have sex with Annika?”

“I dunno,” I said with a shrug. “She’s interested, I think, but...” When a shadow crossed Gina’s face, I couldn’t help but smile. “Let me guess, you want to watch. Right?” I asked.

“God,” she said, without a trace of sarcasm, “you know me so well.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, I’d love to watch you and Annika together. She’s so incredibly sexy. But...”

“But you wanna see if Tomás is as good as he thinks he is.”

Instead of replying, she looked down and nodded.

I tilted her head up and kissed her tenderly. As the kiss heated up, her nipples hardened against my chest. “Are those for me?” I asked wryly. “Or Tomás?”

With a guilty grin, she playfully punched my shoulder.

Then we turned our attention to the rest of the party.

Once Gina realized I wasn’t upset, she started flirting with Tomás, teasing him. He took it as a challenge. Shortly after three in the morning, most of the partygoers had departed. Gina surreptitiously came and kissed me goodnight, whispering “good luck” in my ear. Then she went to find Tomás. With a satisfied smile, Annika took my hand and led me into the house. I hadn’t read her wrong; she was very interested.

“Your girlfriend, she does not mind?” she asked.

“She’s with Tomás,” I said, pulling the sexy Dutch girl toward me.

“You do not mind that she is with Tomás?” she asked, a little confused.

I shook my head. “I know she loves me. She’s just having fun with Tomás.”

“Like you are ‘having fun’ with me?”

“I thought you were having fun too,” I said evenly.

“I am. But you are different. I have never met an American man who does not talk to these,” she said, indicating her bare breasts.

“I’m not like other American men.”

She reached for the lump in my swimsuit. “Maybe you are not all that different?” she teased, squeezing gently.

“I think you’d be surprised.”

“Oh? Show me.”

“In a minute,” I said. “I want to shower.”

“Oh.” She started to pout, but I forestalled her with a roguish grin.

“D’you wanna join me?” I asked.

Her mood brightened immediately and she nodded.

Without hesitating, I untied my swim trunks and slid them down my legs. My dick, which had been half hard all night, sprang out and bobbed gently. Annika’s eyes darted to it and she smiled. When she looked up, I glanced down at her bikini bottoms and then lifted my eyebrows.

By the time she’d removed her bottoms, I was fully erect in anticipation. Her pubic hair was also chestnut-brown, and she kept it trimmed into a neat, narrow triangle. It was my turn to give her an appraising look. She moved to kiss me, but I turned and guided her toward the bathroom instead.

The shower was a big, tiled stall with a shower massager. We stepped into the spray and she immediately glided into my arms. My erection pressed against her as I kissed her fiercely. She returned the kiss with equal passion, wrapping her arms and one leg around me.

My original plan had been to tease her and get her really worked up before doing anything more. But as soon as I felt her luscious body press against me, something within me snapped. I cupped her ass as I ground my dick into her soft belly. She responded eagerly, her fingernails lightly raking down my back.

Then I pushed her against the tile wall with my body. Her full, sensuous lips hungrily pressed against my own and she invaded my mouth with her tongue. As we kissed, she ground her hips against me, mewling softly with increasing passion.

We separated long enough for her to dart a hand between us and grip my shaft, but then I pressed my lips against her again. She kneaded my hardness as our tongues danced against each other. With a low groan, I began kissing down the side of her neck. When I reached her collarbone, I worked my way back up her neck, making her squirm with delight. Then I turned my head and kissed her lips, my tongue seeking hers. Panting, she pulled back and tried to aim my cock at her pussy.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly thinking clearly. Most of my body, including my dick (which was 90% in control) screamed to keep going, but the rational part of my brain made me stop. “I don’t have any rubbers.”

“How do you say?” she said, her Dutch accent coming through. “I’m on the pill, baby.”

That was flawless American slang, I thought.

She tilted her pelvis and I eased forward. Then she guided my erection to her opening and sighed as my glans pressed against her. I slid into her easily, her steamy folds parting as my girth spread her open. Since I had her pinned against the wall with my body, she wrapped her other leg around me and clasped her ankles behind my back.