That day felt like it would never end. In fact, the whole week had dragged by. Unfortunately that left more time for more self-reflection. I sat staring at my pen in my hand at the office realizing that my dissatisfaction with my job and my life had reached an all time high.
I turned 30 that week. My birthday came and went with little fuss. My mum rang in the morning and I had a few emails from friends. Truth is, I'd started cutting off ties with my close friends as they got married. It wasn't really a deliberate choice; we just seemed to be heading in very different directions. Being single bothered me more than it should have because I had always thought that I would be the first of my school friends to marry. I was always popular at school, with boys constantly fighting for my attention.
It was time for a change. I left work a little early. I just couldn't find the enthusiasm to start something new at 4.45pm. On the bus home, my gaze floated over the other passengers, wondering who else felt frustrated with their life.
I dawdled, in no rush to get home after I got off the bus. The short walk from the bus stop to my house was one that I'd walked over a thousand times before, without really seeing it. Tonight as I walked home, I noticed the odd uniformity of the houses, with little well kept gardens providing privacy to the lives inside the houses. It might be a cliché but I had never stopped to smell the roses.
I arrived home to my own well kept little garden. It was low maintenance like the rest of my life outside of work, but was attractive enough. Checking the mail, only to find the electricity bill, I sighed. I wondered if the whole world was like this, little microcosms of uniformity, people's lives following the expected pattern. That night I decided I would go traveling. I had to know if it was different elsewhere. Was there more to life than this?
I spent hours on the internet that night. I sat drinking coffee until 2am in the morning trying to decide where I would go. In fact I spent hours over the next month researching my travel plans. At only 30, it felt like I was too young for a midlife crisis but suddenly my life felt infused with a passion. Within the month, I had quit my job and was on a plane to London. London felt about as far away from my little predicable life in Perth, Australia and I wanted to see many of the European countries too. It was a difficult but liberating decision.
Two days after setting foot in London I felt like a different person. I was alive with anticipation and enthusiasm for the adventure to come. The climate in London was colder than I had expected. I did some shopping on Oxford Street. Although all I really needed was a warm coat, I couldn't resist several other items. My favourite was a gorgeous white embroidered bra with matching knickers.
That night, back at my hotel, I tried on my new clothes. I always do that — try all the new clothes on, in different combinations with my older stuff. I think it is just about mentally working out what goes with what, and besides, it makes me feel good. The new bra perfectly cupped my breasts, and you could see my nipples through the sheer striped fabric. My new grey bootleg trousers were fantastic too. I am quite tall for a woman at 5"9' and often find it hard to get pants long enough. But these were perfect and I loved how they made my ass look, round and tight, but not too big. I'd already decided what I would wear the next day.
I'd booked myself on a weekend trip to Scotland when I booked my flight to London. I was really looking forward to it and felt excited and nervous at the same time. I went to bed early since I would be picked up at 8am. Sliding into bed, I almost felt suffocated by the tightly tucked in sheets. I hate hotel beds. I squirmed and flanged until the covers were completely messed up, no longer tightly pinned to the bed.
My right hand began to automatically rub first my breast, then it trailed downwards. I say automatically, because it too had become routine. It had been months since I had slept with a man. Masturbating before sleep relaxes me and I always sleep better.
I melted into the bed, feeling my fingers delve into my warm pussy lips. I had become surprisingly wet very suddenly. I was very tense since I hadn't gotten off in the last two days - sightseeing had just left me too tired. I wished that I had been brave enough to bring my vibrator from home on this trip. Lying back feeling the vibrations of my favourite purple vibe pulse through my body would have felt fantastic, but instead my fingers would have to do. Not that that was a bad thing, I liked the way I felt and tasted too.
My right hand fingers pushed inside my pussy, finding a very swollen and aroused g-spot. I rubbed back and forth across it thinking of the very sexy man I had been sitting next to on the plane to London.
I imagined that I had been forward enough to make a move on him, rubbing his penis underneath the fold-down tray. I imagined rubbing his dick and making it strain uncomfortably against his pants. His penis would stand up erect, dislodging the fold-down tray, spilling his beer.
I felt my clit grow bigger with this thought. I wiggled my fingers up and down against my clit as though I was playing a trill on a piano keyboard. I imagined him taking me doggie style in the bathroom cubicle on the plane. His hands would roam over my breasts and squeezing my pert nipples roughly. I would struggle to be quiet as he fucked me harder and harder pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. Suddenly my breathing became very ragged, and I came hard in my hotel room, alone.
The alarm rang, waking me abruptly from my slumber. I felt groggy and still asleep as I dragged myself into the en suite bathroom. I glanced at myself in the mirror. My long dark brown hair was awful, long, dark and unruly — what bad bed hair! It was normally so neatly pinned back for work, looked like a wild animal had escaped from the zoo and taken up residency on my head. The hot water streaming over my naked body felt good as I wakened myself slowly from my deep sleep. I rubbed the complimentary soap bar over the soft skin of my breasts, and noticed how hard my nipples were.
My mind slipped back almost to my dream state and I saw an image of a man's naked, slightly sculptured body. I realized the alarm must have woken me up in the middle of an erotic dream. I let my hand stray to between my legs wishing myself to remember more of my dream. I discovered that I was already slippery wet, but not from the action of the shower. I squeezed my nipples, but it was to no avail. I was too much awake to remember anything else.
Laughing to myself, I wondered if I had been masturbating in my sleep again. An ex-boyfriend once told me that I did that. I didn't believe him at first, but then I would wake up too often with my hands resting on my pussy.
Realizing that the bus would be there in just ten minutes, I hurried myself out of the shower and threw on the clothes that I had chosen the night before. I felt attractive but not overdressed, with added confidence from the new clothes. I sighed as I realized that I wouldn't have time to blowdry my hair. I pulled it instead into a loose bun. I grabbed the overnight bag I had packed the night before, and went down into the foyer to wait for my pickup.
I had barely walked down the stairs when a stunning young man walked through the sliding doors of the hotel. I wished now that I wasn't going on the trip so that I would have the chance to 'accidentally' run into this man. I watched slyly as he went to the concierge to get his room keys. The concierge didn't give him room keys, instead beckoned my way. He quickly turned to walk over to me, catching me looking at him. A wide smile played across his face.
"Hi, you must be Anna. I'm Luke, your tour guide. On behalf of Impulse Tours I'd like to welcome you and let you if there is anything, and I mean ANYTHING I can do to make your trip more enjoyable, then please just ask"
I felt myself begin to blush as he winked at me and took my bag. I thought I also caught him surreptitiously checking me out. I pulled my shoulders back and thrust my breasts out a little as I walked to the bus, deciding that I might as well have some fun.
"We just have one more pick up then we will be on our way," Luke said to me before giving the bus driver directions to the next hotel pickup.
I nodded to him and made my way down the aisle of the bus to an empty seat about a third of the way down the bus. I wanted to say something to him, but just couldn't find any words.
The bus was quite full, but surprisingly most of the other tourists were in their late forties. There was also a cute young couple who seemed totally enthralled in each other. Young love, I thought to myself, remembering with a pang some of the failed relationships I had when I was younger.
The final passenger boarded, and I watched Luke prepare to speak to his captive audience. He was in his early thirties, with long, wild, sun-bleached blond hair. I recognised his accent, another Australian! He was quite tall, lanky but muscular, and looked like he spent all his free time surfing.
Luke briefly outlined the trip ahead. We would be taking the M1 for the early part of the morning, stopping in Skipton for lunch. I had never heard of Skipton before. Then we would pass through the Lake District before stopping in Carlisle for the night.
The morning travel passed quickly. I relaxed in my seat as I watched the countryside slowly change. There was a bit of friendly chatter on the bus and I eavesdropped on several conversations without really joining any of them. I learned that Luke was indeed from Australia, but had been in England for four years. One of the older couples were English, wanting to enjoy their anniversary away from their teenage kids. There were two couples from Germany as well. I studied German at school and could understand a few words, although not enough to really follow their conversations.
The bus pulled off the M1 and stopped at a service station. Most of the passengers got off the bus to stretch their legs and grab a coffee. The young lovers stayed on the bus, still looking intoxicated with each other.
I ordered a cappuccino and a muffin from the Starbucks franchise adjacent to the service station, and took a seat at a table near the window. I had a good view of the bus, and I noticed the back of the young girl pressed hard against the window. She seemed to be squirming in her seat, and I wondered what they were up to. My inquisitive thoughts were interrupted though by a deep and slightly accented voice.
"May I join you?" I looked up and noticed it was a passenger that boarded the bus that morning after me. I hadn't really taken much notice of him— being too captivated by Luke the tour guide.
"Yes, please do" I replied, now smiling back a little. He was tall, unassuming and I would guess about ten years older than me, but I couldn't be sure. I have never been good at estimating the age of men.
My companion introduced himself as Anders. We talked briefly before our coffee orders arrived. He had been in London for a conference and had decided to take a little post-conference trip to see a bit of the country. Anders was from Denmark and worked in research in computer technology.
The conversation with Anders was friendly and easy. I explained to him that I'd left my job in search for something more out of life. Anders laughed at me for choosing London to try to find myself.
Luke then called us all back on to the bus. He greeted us all individually as we made our way back to our seats. Anders was sitting in one of the last rows. I thought about moving to join him, but decided that might seem desperate. I sat down alone in my old seat 3 rows from the front of the bus.
Luke again picked up the microphone and announced that the drive to Skipton would only take about another hour. I resumed watching the countryside. The side of the road was covered with daisies, bright yellow like tiny flashes of sunshine. My mind drifted back to my childhood. I used to love sitting in the middle of a meadow making daisy chains. However, I wasn't left alone with my thoughts for long. Luke flung himself down beside me shortly after the bus was back on the M1.
"How's it going?" he asked speaking with a familiar and slow Australian accent.
"Pretty good so far" I replied. "There seems to be a interesting mixture of people on this tour."
"Yes, often we don't get your sort" he said, and nudged me teasingly.
"What do you mean 'my sort'?" I asked
"Oh, you know, gorgeous, young and sexy," Luke said, smiling.
I blushed not knowing what to say, his overt flirting catching me off guard. Luke then explained that he didn't mean to embarrass me. "The Australian sense of humour can take a bit of getting used to." he explained.
"Ah, but I am Australian," I replied.
"Really?" Luke asked, "You don't have much of an Australian accent. Where are you from then?"
"I'm from Perth," I replied, and then explained that my parents were English, so that was probably why I didn't speak with a very strong Australian accent.
We talked for a bit longer. I was still insanely attracted to him, and sometimes this got the better of me, causing me to become for words. Luke didn't seem to notice and easily filled my gaps in the conversation. He asked me why I was in London. I explained for the second time that day. I also told him that I didn't know how long I was going to be in London, and I didn't care, as long as I was enjoying and experiencing life. Luke had smiled, putting his arm around me, and pulled me in against him.
"Well I can guarantee you will enjoy this trip, at the very least."
His cheerful and easy going nature was intoxicating. Luke was always smiling. He went back up to the front of the bus after the brief embrace, leaving me wanting more of that enthralling man. He winked directly at me as he told the bus that we would be arriving in Skipton shortly, where we would have lunch, then an hour to explore the town. He suggested either exploring the castle or the outdoor markets. We needed to be back at the bus by 2pm.
I had hoped to spend some more time alone with Luke, but he was being professional in his job as guide, spending equal time with all passengers. The German tourists were currently occupying his attention as we wandered the streets near the markets. I was following their lead, but hung back behind, watching with interest the animated fashion in which Luke was describing the fascinating history of the town.
"Pretty little town isn't it."
I spun around, surprised to notice Anders beside me. I wondered if he could see right through me and my infatuation with Luke. In an attempt to hide my feelings, I turned all of my attention to Anders.
"Want to go find some lunch then?" I asked Anders, smiling at the tall Dane.
Anders nodded and we split from the rest of the group in search of somewhere quieter for lunch. After finding a few crowded coffee shops, we discovered a little pub in a side street. It was quaint, small and quiet, and only smelt slightly of stale beer. The advertised counter meals were traditionally English, with bangers and mash, and Guinness pie on offer. We bought a pint of larger each, ordered some dinner and sat down near the window.
"Enjoying the trip so far?" Anders asked.
"Of course" I replied. "The countryside is so different from home, and really pretty".
"It's so different compared to Denmark too, but I'm particularly enjoying the company of the new people I've met," Anders replied with a twinkle in his eyes.
Was he flirting with me too? As I studied Anders, over the drink, I realised how handsome he actually was. His clear blue eyes were stunning, bright and alive, contrasting beautifully with his dark brown hair. Oh, my pulse had quickened. I was seriously attracted to this man.
But two men? It had always been a fantasy of mine to make love to two men at once... I was attracted to both Luke and to Anders, but I hadn't changed my life just to have another casual fling.
Oh, Anders had been talking to me, and I had been too distracted fantasizing to notice. I had to start living in the moment.
"Oh, I'm sorry Anders, I guess I'm just still trying to take it all in." I explained. Thankfully our meals arrived at that moment which saved me from having to explain my distraction further.
We spent the rest of our free time in Skipton together, exploring the differences between our countries and this new town. I was amazed that England, for a country with so little land and such a large population, could still have quaint little towns like this one. I really enjoyed that afternoon with Anders.
We returned to the bus, and as I was boarding, Luke winked at me. Oh, my heart fluttered. It felt so confusing. I had spent more time with Anders now, and really liked him, but I was also seriously attracted to Luke.
That night in the hotel in Carlisle, I thought about both men. Anders was quiet and reserved, but so genuine and warm. Luke on the other hand was far more outgoing. His appearance would attract every woman alive, but refreshingly he didn't have a big ego. Both of them were vastly different to the sort of egotistical, pretentious men that I was constantly surrounded by in my previous job.
I was roused from my thoughts by the sounds of sex emanating from the room next door. It sounded like they were having fun! I laughed a little as I recalled who was actually in the room next to me. It was an older English couple that I'd overheard say at dinner that they'd spent their honeymoon in Carlisle 30 years ago. That comment was stuck in my memory. Thirty years ago, I was had only just been born. Two thoughts were stirred. Firstly, how short life is, and secondly how quickly it passes you by. It didn't seem fair.
I picked up my book and tried to read. The sounds from next door were now stronger and more penetrating than before. I tried not to think about too deeply about it. It wasn't until I had read the same passage of text in my book for the fourth time, without understanding any of it that I finally put my book down. I glanced at the clock. I couldn't believe they had been at it for so long. I wondered if men got more stamina as they got older — as certainly no man I had ever been with had lasted this long. I fleetingly wondered what it would be like to have mind-blowingly slow sex with a man old enough to be my father. I quickly buried that thought, feeling like it was perhaps wrong to think that way.
I flicked the light switch, plunging the room in to darkness. The noise from next door suddenly seemed louder. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but the excitement next door was penetrating my every thought.