Travelling North, Part 2.

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When I got on the plane in Manila to continue my journey to Frankfurt, my assigned window seat was taken. A child or woman was curled up in sleep or indifference against the cabin’s wall. The plane’s flight had started in Tokyo, and she or it had taken possession of the vacant seat.I was in a happy mood and let it be. After stowing away my hand luggage, I quietly sat down next to this rolled-up bundle.Close to midnight – I had not managed to fall asleep – the bundle stirred. What emerged was a woman with short, unruly hair. In the low cabin-light, she appeared almost waif-like, slight in body and a drawn, pale face. Sitting up, she unhurriedly straightened out her crumbled clothing. I noticed she had beautiful hands and manicured nails. When she looked sideways at me with a tentative smile, she pointed down into her lap and asked: ‘Your seat?’Her voice was mature and well-modulated. English was for her clearly a foreign tongue. Now that she looked at me, I saw an interestingly attractive, not at all childlike face. I could not guess her age: She could have been twenty or thirty-five.During our torturous, long flight to Frankfurt, we became attached. In addition to the scheduled stops in Bangkok and Athens, there was an unexplained delay in Islamabad. All passengers were herded under armed guards into a function room. After a four-hour wait, we continued our flight on a different plane. We, somehow, just stayed together. I did not encourage her, nor did she cling.Isabelle was French. When she gave me her name, I repeated it in my best French accent. It earned me an approving smile. But not then and not during the rest of the flight did we get to know much about each other. Isabelle slept for extended periods. But the main reason was the language barrier. Isabelle’s English was almost as poor as my neglected school-French. As I learned later, she had acquired her English only in Tokyo in meeting with other foreigners.Nevertheless, we fell into liking each other. As strangers, we were at ease with each other in a state of suspended distrust.Isabelle had lived for almost two years in Tokyo and was now permanently returning home to her mother in France. She was willing to tell me what brought her to Tokyo and what she did there. I gathered that Isabelle had met a Japanese man in France. She had followed him to Japan. But now, their relationship had ended. Isabelle’s body language suggested a sadness tinged with anger as she struggled with words.I wondered why Isabelle was flying to Frankfurt and not Paris. Isabelle hesitated for a moment. Then she explained that she wanted to return to her mother’s home on the Cote d’ Azure by train and bus through southern Germany, Austria and Switzerland. I somehow did not believe her laboured explanation. Pretending it was the truth, I jokingly suggested that she come with me for part of the way. Isabelle did not answer but looked at me with a thoughtful smile.During the lengthy flight, I also told her about myself. As much as the language difficulties allowed, I told her about my background in Australia, my teaching and study leave in Germany, and my holiday plans.Therefore, Isabelle knew before we landed in Frankfurt my immediate intentions: I would spend a week with my in-laws near Stuttgart, buy a car, and then drive to Austria for a holiday with relatives.At Frankfurt’s airport, with our suitcases at our feet, we stood in embarrassed silence. I tried to find the words to ask her, ‘What now?’. Suddenly I did not want Isabelle out of my life with a goodbye I could have said in perfect French. So, I haltingly mentioned that I was going to a hotel for an overnight rest before going on to my in-laws tomorrow by train. Isabelle looked down at the luggage at her feet. Then she turned to face me. With a blush and stammer, she asked if she could come with me. My smile must have told her that I was pleased.We, with all our luggage, took a taxi. I did not know Frankfurt. Therefore I asked the driver to take us to a hotel close to the central railway station. The one he chose looked somewhat seedy. When the unshaven fellow behind the reception desk asked whether we wanted two singles or a double, I looked at Isabelle. With a show of fingers and in French, I enquired, ‘Un? – Deux?’ Isabelle’s ‘Un!’ was emphatic as her hand grasped my arm. I suspected it was the hotel’s and the receptionist’s appearance that discouraged her from being in a room on her own.The room and the bathroom appeared clean. I was dead tired, and Isabelle looked exhausted despite her periods of sleep on the plane. I pointed her to the bathroom to shower while I went down to the reception to check the railway’s departure times for tomorrow.On returning to the room, Isabelle had not yet left the bathroom. I started to undress. When I looked up, Isabelle stood in the bathroom’s doorway, unsmiling, with her eyes fixed on me. She wore school-girlish cotton underpants but had left her top uncovered. Isabelle’s lithe body, with her perky little breasts, appeared to glow from the shower’s heat. Then, Isabelle lowered her eyes and walked to the bed. Without looking or speaking to me, she slipped under the doona.I, like her, had a long shower. I thought about Isabelle’s provocative display. She had surprised me with her temptingly sexy nakedness. Still, in my state of tiredness, my cock showed no response. When I joined her in bed, Isabelle did not open her eyes. Her body gave no sign of stiffening resistance about our skin touching. So I drew Isabelle into a comforting cuddle. And it was Isabelle that – shyly and childlike lovingly – kaçak iddaa offered me her lips for a gentle, first kiss. Then, in our state of exhaustion, we quickly fell asleep.Despite our falling asleep so closely embraced, we awoke at ease with each other in the morning. It almost felt we were lovers. And over breakfast in a nearby café, Isabelle reached across the table for my hand: ‘Fred, can we be together a bit longer? I want to –‘, she paused, searching for the right words, ‘travel to Austria with you?’When I stammered, ‘Yes, yes, I’d like to have your company!’, Isabelle burst into a peal of delighted laughter.During our train journey to Stuttgart later in the morning, we laboured through our language difficulties planning our shared time. Up to then, all that Isabelle knew was what she might have gathered from our laboured talking on the plane. Now I told her again that my in-laws expected me to stay with them for a few days. I was also uncertain about how long it would take to buy and register a car for my one-year stay in Germany. This involved a wait for Isabelle. The length and details of our journey together to Innsbruck in Austria could be left open.I was set on making our time together worthwhile for Isabelle. She readily agreed to wait for me in Stuttgart, for however long my in-law visit and car purchase would take. Then, in my car, we would travel leisurely through Bavaria to Innsbruck. From Innsbruck, Isabelle could conveniently continue her journey through Switzerland to her mother in southern France.After arriving in Stuttgart, I relied on the Tourism Office at the station and not the ill advice of a taxi-driver to book suitable accommodation for Isabelle’s stay. When we got to the hotel, we were pleased. I glanced at the king-size bed and asked if I should stay the night. Isabelle answered with a smile and spontaneous grab for my arm. I phoned my in-laws, telling them that I would arrive tomorrow.Then we went for lunch, and after to a tourism office to collect brochures on Stuttgart’s attractions. These Isabelle could sample while she was waiting for my return. Both of us needed to go to a bank to convert our traveller’s cheques into the local currency. My side-way glance at Isabelle’s transaction eased my mind. With the money in her wallet, she did not need to attach herself to me for mercenary reasons.We concluded the day with dinner in a restaurant close to her hotel. I introduced her to the local specialities. Tiny as she was, Isabelle was a hearty eater enjoying the food and local wine. We were in good spirits when we returned to her room.Without much ado, Isabelle let me know that she wanted me to be first in the shower. She joked, telling me she took so long that I could be asleep by the time she finished. As she wrestled with words, I took her in my arms for a first proper kiss. Isabelle pretended, I thought, to be surprised. But then – with a sigh – any thought of resisting was overcome. When I released her, Isabelle had a cheeky grin on her face.After my shower, I lay in bed and waited. When the bathroom door opened, I pretended to be asleep. From under only partly closed lids, I looked at her. Again, like last night, Isabelle stood in the doorway in her cotton panties. But bravely bare-breasted, with her pointy nipples, Isabelle was invitingly sexy! She reached back and closed the door with a bang. My supposedly shocked awakening was met with a grin. Putting her hands on her hips, Isabelle skipped to the bed. I folded the cover aside to invite her in.Isabelle quickly slipped into bed to lock me into an affectionate embrace. It contradicted, in a way, the seductive allure with which she had stalked to the bed. I took it to be a sign of her uncertainties: What would or should come next between us? So, I let her cuddle me. I stroked gently over her short hair till she raised her face and offered me her lips for a first, tentative kiss. Then, as if she regretted it, Isabelle nuzzled her face with a murmur into my neck. But when she eventually raised her face, her lips greedily sought mine.They opened with a hot gasp of breath, and Isabelle’s tongue welcomed mine in a possession-taking twirl. It encouraged me to let my hand stroke down her back to take possession of her shapely little ass. Isabelle moaned into my mouth as I caressingly moulded her shapely buttocks. However, I took care not to press her too suggestively against my growing erection.But it was no longer Isabelle’s tongue and quickening breath alone that signalled her mounting arousal. As my fingertips stroked up her spine and down her sides, over her buttocks and down her thighs, Isabelle pressed her pubes against my stiff cock. There was no denying that we were turned on by each other!But then, with a cry of ‘Non!’, Isabelle pushed me away. What did she mean? She neither turned her back on me nor curled up in defence. Instead, stretched out before me was Isabelle’s slight, but so delectable, in arousal quivering body. And her eyes, with her lips sensuously half-open, looked questioningly at me.I bend over to kiss her pert tiny breasts for the first time. Isabelle quickly cradled my head. In the minutes that followed, she guided my lips and tongue over her quivering body, from her throat and shoulders down to the boundary of her panties. After our intermittent, now telling-all kissing, Isabelle pressed my lips time and time again on her sweet tiny breasts and rampantly pointy nipples. It caused her body to arch against my mouth and her thighs to twist in undeniably lustful expectation.I thought it was time to raise the curtain: Isabelle kaçak bahis needed to be freed of her superfluous ‘not-yet panties’. I reached down and placed my hand on her pressed-together thighs. When I drew my fingers, barely touching, up over her pubes, Isabelle’s body went rigid. She hissed an emphatic ‘Non, Fred! Please!’ and twisted away from me.What came first into my mind was that Isabelle did not want unprotected sex. I had actually put a condom on the bedside table while she was in the shower. So, I kissed her gently. I must have murmured something to appease her anxiousness before I reached for the condom. She shook her head. Averting my eyes, she repeated a low voiced, ‘Non. Non’ Isabelle sounded genuinely regretful, choked by her inability to explain.I thought there was no need: She just had her period. I did not want to show any disappointment. I pulled Isabelle into an embrace without digging my cock into her now off-limits pubes. In between consoling kisses, I must have murmured some comforting sounds to soothe Isabelle’s, I thought, silly anxiety. When her hand moved down my sides and feathered towards my still rampant cock, I demonstratively jerked away from its touch. I grinned at Isabelle’s still worried face as I pressed out my exaggerated ‘Non! Non, please!’ She responded with a happy giggle and snuggled up close, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘imbecile’.Eventually, we fell asleep. I think it took me longer. It was our second night together, and we had not yet fucked. And I, for one, not only had begun to desire Isabelle badly. I was well on the way to fall in love.The following day, I caught a train to my in-law’s hometown. Neither Isabelle nor I had – in those long ago pre-‘mobile’ days – a phone. With our oral communication anyway shaky, I would send her a telegram to let her know when I would return to Stuttgart to begin our journey. The dozen words required I could even manage in French! She accompanied me to the train to bid me, with a loving hug, “Au revoir.” It reassured me. Isabelle did not want it to be a goodbye.I spent six days with my in-laws, who were glad to see me. I liked my in-laws and had planned to stay longer but was eager to return to Isabelle. I managed to buy a suitable car and get it registered and insured.When I pulled up at her hotel, Isabelle was waiting in the foyer with her luggage at the ready. She looked rested, refreshed and enticingly attractive. She had paid the hotel for her stay and was as eager as I to begin our journey.We planned to spend two nights in Munich and two nights while crossing through Upper Bavaria. The decision about how many we would spend in Innsbruck before parting we left for later. That I remember it now in term of the nights suggests – correctly, I admit – that my attention then focused more on the nights ahead than the happenings during the days.We arrived in Munich mid-afternoon, booked into a small hotel not far from the centre. In the remaining daylight hours, we strolled around the hotel’s neighbourhood: First in search of coffee and then for an unhurried evening meal. Isabelle was happy and chatty, and our struggle with language was fun, animated by her expressive gesticulations. And I began to remember more and more of my long-neglected French vocabulary.When we returned to our room, I wanted to rush Isabelle into bed. She, however, smiling sweetly, freed herself after just one kiss to busy herself with unpacking a few things. It established an almost domestic normality. After Isabelle had put some of her stuff in the bathroom, she told me to go in first. She sat down on the bed and watched me undress. I felt both shy and determined not to show it. Her eyes never left me until I stood there naked and walked past her to the bathroom.When I was finished and opened the door, Isabelle was still sitting on the bed. She was naked. My eyes were immediately drawn to her closely trimmed bush. Getting up from the bed, Isabelle’s stood for a long second before me, with a smile playing over her face. Then, swaying her hips, she brushed past me in going to the bathroom. While earlier she had not averted her eyes from my then limp cock, she now did not glimpse at my promising erection. When Isabelle reemerged in the doorway, panties were back on. They were a briefer but not a provocatively sexier version than her cotton ones. I searched her face for a wink or a held back grin. Was she teasing me with her on/off chastity panties? But Isabelle avoided my eyes as she walked up to me.I reached for her hips and stopped her from sliding into bed. Swinging out my legs, I embraced her and pressed my lips on her belly for a long, sucking kiss. Isabelle stood still; the kiss was to leave its mark, just near the edge of the damn panties. I grabbed their elastic seam between my teeth and let it snap back on her drawn-in belly. Isabelle grabbed into my hair and pushed me away. But then, sensing my growing annoyance, Isabelle quickly pulled my face to her breasts, whispering a pleading ‘Non! Please, Fred. Non.’At that moment, I no longer heard it as a teasing ‘Not yet.’ nor was willing to accept it as a justified plea. Isabelle’s refusal to properly make love was beginning to hurt and anger me. It questioned, firstly, the genuineness of her affection for me. Even more so, her refusal to fuck made Isabelle’s otherwise openly sexual behaviour, I now thought, a calculated lie.Isabelle was no longer a naughtily playful little virgin still afraid to finally fuck. I suddenly saw Isabelle’s behaviour as a cynical ploy. I was offended. I had not illegal bahis forced my attention on Isabelle, just as I had never in my life coerced any woman into sex. It was not my nature to take what was not willingly given. And with Isabelle, even my gentle attempts to take off her panties rendered me guilty of what I had sworn I would never do.My first thought was to end it right now: I would drop Isabelle tomorrow morning at the railway station and say cooly, goodbye. Male pride made me quickly change my mind. I would take her to Innsbruck as promised. For the remaining days, I would ignore her false sexual innuendoes and book us, for the nights, into separate rooms!We were now silently lying next to each other. I don’t know if Isabelle sensed what was going through my mind. During our following days and nights, Isabelle never asked, and I did not confess what I had planned to do. By then, I had learned and accepted why Isabelle behaved as she did. However, it was Isabelle’s all but the last reservation surrendering loving that stilled my anger and suspicions at this critical moment before I knew more.As Isabelle’s lips came searching to be kissed, her body pressed and wriggled against mine. I was lying on my back, not responding. With a moan, Isabelle slid full-length on top of me, and her gasping lips found mine. With anger still simmering, I thrust my tongue brutally into her mouth. With her body’s weight pressed against me, she did not shy away from the feel of my growing erection.Soon our kisses grew more demanding as our tongues wrestled each other. Isabelle was much shorter than I. Her thighs had opened to embraced my cock, safely away from her panty-sheltered crotch. When I slid my hands under her panties to grab her buttocks, she cried out, half in protest, half in excited surprise. I loved feeling the shivering play of her ass’ muscles under my hands.Isabelle, between ever hungrier kisses, had started to whisper in French. Her thighs now opened and closed, rubbing and caressing my rampant erection. Overcharged as Isabelle’s behaviour had left me, she would make me come. I still felt and feared this happening as a threatening humiliation. I had to escape.Linked together as we were, I turned us around and rescued my threatened cock. Kneeling close to Isabelle’s now shivering body, I began to kiss her petite tits and tantalise with teeth and tongue her perky nipples. She moaned and whimpered, holding and cradling and pushing my ruthless mouth from tit to tit. And there was no holding me back as I ran my tongue down and up her sides. In circling over her heaving belly, I sank my tongue twirling into her navel before feathering along the slipped lower rim of her panties.While I so kissed her, I had begun to stroke up her thighs without trying to force them apart. Whenever they strayed over Isabelle’s panty-covered sex, her pelvis lifted. And could feel how her pussy shivered against my lightly fondling fingers. Did Isabelle dare me to do more, or was her resistance truly overcome? Slowly, centimetre by revealing centimetre, I peeled down her panties. Suddenly, with a tortured, long drawn out ‘Non, Fred! Non. Please!’ Isabelle grabbed my hands. However, instead of pulling them away, she pressed them onto her feverishly grinding pussy.As she held me and her crying-out mouth sank into my shoulder, I suddenly knew. Isabelle was not playing a game. There were reasons for her refusal to fuck. She was deeply affected by her incapability and upset that I misunderstood her NOs. Now, she clasped my face to look at me pleadingly while he muttered a repeated sentence in French, of which I only picked up my name. Throughout, Isabelle’s groin pressed and quivered against my restive cock.So, I hugged Isabelle into a consoling embrace. Every time she started to search for words I would understand, I kissed them from her lips. As she still pressed her body against me, I began to caress Isabelle’s shapely ass again.Isabelle responded with a gasping sigh. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to be gently kissed; she now kissed me hard, her tongue hungrily invading my mouth with a probing, sucking abandonment. And then Isabelle broke free to shift onto her knees. Crouching over me, she wildly kissed me. I could feel her stiff nipples rubbing over my chest.And then her hungry kisses moved slowly down my body. When Isabelle’s head was at rest on my thighs, her hand took possession of my cock.The bedside light was on, and I could look at Isabelle’s flushed, lust-filled face. Her lips and tongue played over the tip of my firmly held cock as she looked up at me. She wanted me to see, to look at her, perhaps worship her in this – for us then – most intimate way of loving. I whispered something down on her as I began to stroke her hair. I did so gently, without pushing her loving-me mouth deeper onto my cock than she wanted to go.For my other hand, Isabelle’s excitedly wriggling ass was in reach. As it slipped under her panties, Isabelle’s teeth closed momentarily with a threatening growl over my cock. But then, suddenly, she pressed and ground her shapely buttocks into my grasping hand. When the tips of my fingers started to caress the parting cleft of her ass, it responded with a sensual wriggle. Swallowing a cry, Isabelle thrust her mouth deep onto my cock.Isabelle was still kneeling, crouching on my side. As the intensity of our lovemaking – her hungry mouth on my cock and my hand and fingers on her ass – increased, Isabelle drew in her legs more and more. My marauding hand was in her panties. As Isabelle’s thighs spread open, my fingers slid from her ass down onto the raised fleshy fold of Isabelle’s pussy. Her thighs began to shiver. Convulsing, they clamped shut, and the tips of two of my fingers were pressed into the pussy’s slippery heat.

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