The same story, edited by a native English speaking guy
WARNING: English is NOT my first language – I learned it in school and have used a lot in business, but this is, even though pornographic, supposed to be literature.
So please bear with me or, if not, just read something else.
I also need to mention that the story is true, depicting my personal memories.
All the names and/or places may have been changed, due to privacy.
God, it's so hot!
The sun is practically burning!
The terrace is full, and I'm thirsty. I really am!
I look around see absolutely no empty seats, except for a chair at a table for four where three people are sitting -- a man and a woman in their early fifties, and another woman in her very early twenties, probably their daughter.
Honestly, I'm not the kind of guy to track my muddy boots into the midst of a family group, but I'd already been standing at the entrance to the room for more than ten minutes, and I couldn't help but notice that they aren't really having a conversation with each other.
Finally, what the heck! It's a public place, and I'm thiiiiiiirsty!
I approach their table, greet them, and politely ask them if I might take a seat.
The couple smile at me and invite me to take a seat, while the young lady is absorbed in her plate of food.
I thank them and sit down.
As so usually happens when you’re desperate for a bloody cold beer one appears on my table after a wait of more than ten minutes. I providently order another.
When the next beer appears at my table the waiter also brings the bill, which he leaves in front of the male of the couple.
After five minutes, he's back, gets the money and the tip, thanks them, and leaves.
The guy stands up, helps his wife to do the same, than they say good bye, and leave.
I say good bye, and, to my surprise, the one that I've thought that she was their daughter says good bye too!
I look at her, more attentive this time.
She’s blonde, with blue eyes, a beautiful face, very fine skin texture, with no makeup, a nice pair of boobs, with the nipples tenting her white tee shirt – It’s clear that she isn’t wearing a bra but, believe me, she doesn’t need to. The rest of her charms were hidden by the table and by the table cloth.
She's finished eating, and now she's taking care of her beer and lighting a cigarette.
I haven't ordered anything to eat, since, in this heat, I have little appetite.
After another five minutes, or so, I gather enough courage to try to start a conversation.
“Please excuse me, but I've thought that the lady and the gentleman that just left were... your parents...”
The young lady looks at me, clearly understanding that I've been talking to her, and she explains to me in French that she doesn't speak Romanian.
Gosh! Great! It so happens that I do speak, besides my native Romanian, English, French, Italian, and even a very little of Arabic.
So, I just start laughing, explaining, this time in French, what I've been wondering about the connection between her and the two folks.
The girl is clearly surprised by the quality of my French, and, when I explain to her that I also speak English and so on, she asks me to speak with her in English, since that is the only foreign language that she knows, and she would love to have some more practice at it.
Gosh! English spoken with French accent! Great! Sweet! Silly!
When I see the waiter, I order another two fresh beers, and then start telling Hortensia, since this is her name, how, while in high school, we, the pupils, were complaining that we cannot learn French way with a proper accent, since our main foreign language that we studied learned was English.
I simply explain how our teacher, a very well known Don Juan, had spoken to us in a bewildering and impeccable English for about ten minutes, and how, afterwards, I swore to God that I would do whatever it took to make myself speak French as it should be really spoken, with a Parisian accent and everything.
Maybe I was born to be a teacher, or maybe I'm just crazy, but I start and keep correcting poor Hortensia’s every phrase that she dares to speak in English...
To my surprise, she isn't bothered, but, on the contrary, when I excuse myself for being such a jerk, she just thanks me and encourages me to keep on doing it.
She's just graduated her sociology studies, she's a member of The French Communist Party, or something, and she has come to Romania to do I don't know what studies in the core of communism.
Her guide, a young student, has had to go and look after her dying grandmother, so that, at least for today, she is alone.
Actually, she's says lonely, so that I have to explain to her the difference between alone and lonely.
She bursts into laughter, then tells me, in French this time, looking straight into my eyes, that in fact, without intending to, she's told me the truth.
She really feels lonely!
Since she arrived, ten days ago at the Bucharest airport she's has had only official meetings, accompanied by her guide, with people who are mostly attentive to what they shouldn't say. It's the era of Ceausescu, and people are just being... careful.
I do realize that, in fact, she's surely being followed, but, since I've already crossed the line, and my father is who he is, I consider that I just don't care.
Finally, the girl comes from I don't know what shit of a communist organization, so... what the heck?!?
I simply ask her if her guide has taken the time to show her the beautiful park that we do have here, but she tells me that, except from the few streets in the neighborhood of the hotel where she's living, she hasn't seen shit.
We ask for the bills, pay, and get away from the terrace, into the heat of the street, with the asphalt melting around our feet.
I cannot tell why, but, a minute after we get out from the terrace, it so happens that an empty taxi is approaching.
I'm not stupid, but also not afraid, so I just wave with my hand, and the taxi stops.
I say hi to the driver, who looks anything but a taxi driver, and ask him to take us at the park.
Reaching there, I take Hortensia by her hand -- she doesn't protest -- and lead her to the rowing boats.
I start rowing, and after reaching at the middle of the lake, I ask her if she is aware that she is being followed, step by step.
She looks at me, bursts into laughter, then asks me, ”What? Do you mean that you aren't in the bunch following me?!?”
She than explains that she's been told by her guide that someone else will soon come and take care of her.
Gosh! I can realize now that she has completely misinterpreted my presence...
I just give her a hint about who my father is, than let her know that, this time, she just sees a guy with no agenda.
She surely doesn't believe me, but... what else can I say?
Actually, I feel that things are getting too complicated, so that I just decide to get back to the shore, and lead Hortensia back to her hotel, and... bye, bye...
She suddenly stands up, takes off her tee shirt and her skirt, remaining only in a pair of panties, and,,, out she jumps into the water of the lake.
Gosh! In this place, swimming is forbidden!
Shit, shit, shit!.
I'm explaining to her, but she just laughs, telling me that she's expecting the authorities to come and arrest her.
I'm absolutely sure that we are being watched from the shore, and probably from some other boats on the lake, and so on...
Shit! But... now I'm in it!
She keeps on telling me how cool and good the water is.
Well, if this is the French communist attitude, then... I like it!
Finally, after more than twenty minutes of tormenting my mind, feelings, fears, and so on, Hortensia decides to get back in the boat.
She asks me, in a mixed English and French, since she doesn't know the word for island in English, to take her to the island in the middle of the lake.
We reach there, and she just lies on her back on some grass, from where a water snake leaves in a hurry. She's not afraid of snakes.
Suddenly, she takes off her panties, hanging them on a tree branch to dry.
Now, look at me, a guy in a pair of jeans and a short sleeved shirt, standing, like a stupid monument, beside a completely naked girl.
I get closer to her, intending to say... I really don't know what.
She just grabs me by the belt of my jeans, unbuckles it, than encourages me to take off my trousers and shorts, and... here I am, with my throbbing dick deeply impaled in her mouth...
Gosh! How she's sucking me!
Her hair is filling my fists, while I keep on making her take more, and more dick inside her mouth.
She's a real champ! She keeps on sucking, licking, engorging, without gagging, only with enthusiasm.
We are surrounded by trees and bushes, so that I just hope that nobody can see what we are being doing over here.
Looking around, the natural environment gives me an urge to fuck.
I just take away my dick from her mouth, and ask her , “Honey, will you let me fuck you?”
She just jumps at me, making me lie on my back, and in a second she's riding me, telling me some words in French that I really do not understand...
English is long gone and forgotten.
She's so fucking sweet...
Her moves are exquisite! She's full of energy, determination and... lust.
Gosh, we both feel so good, and when she's trembling and milking my dick with her cunt, she looks into my eyes as if she sees there the map of the world.
After twenty minutes and around five orgasms (on her part), I suddenly remember that my back is lyng on grass, that may contain ants, bugs, who knows what else. Since I already know about the snake I make Hortensia stop and sit up on all fours, and, on my knees, I start pumping her from behind.
Looking at her ass, between her ass cheeks, I'm tempted like her to stick a thumb of mine in there, but, since I realize that we don't have even a napkin, I just prefer to postpone everything.
Hortensia is through coming, once again, washing my dick with her juices, while I start asking myself if to take care, or just not care, and shoot my sperm deep inside her womb.
No! I'm not that kind of a guy.
The moment I reach the end of the journey, I just take my dick out and, jerking it, I let the grass get some pure, natural proteins.
Hortensia turns, sees what I am doing, grabs me by the hand, and makes me turn toward her mouth, and then starts cleaning my dick, licking me clean.
She than does something that I've never seen anybody doing before. With her legs widely open, she puts her forearm between her legs, right at her pussy, and starts wiping, until she reaches the tips of her fingers, than, she just keeps her arm at the same level with her mouth, while her mouth licks and kisses her forearm, hand, and fingers.
Anyway, we get dressed, back in the boat, and I row back towards the shore.
Afterwards, Hortensia insists on taking me to her hotel, while I keep on telling her that it's much better if we go at my apartment.
Finally, we reach at a compromise.
We first go at her hotel, so that she can change, then we go at my place, or wherever I wish.
Since I know the hotel policy, mentality, and all that shit, I choose to stay and wait for Hortensia in the lobby.
The receptionist, a fucking informant, just as they all are, is sweet and gentle with the French bitch, but, the moment the doors of the elevator are sealed, taking her up to her room, her face becomes bitter and as shriveled as a raisin, giving me some excruciating looks.
I just feel like asking her (she’s in her late thirties) if she's envying the French bitch for getting my young strong dick between her legs, while she's probably fucking some lousy big bellied boss around, but, since I can realize that I am already fucked, with the political police on my tail, I just choose to behave.
I know it very well, that as long as the French woman is around me, or expecting to see me again, somehow, they will let me be.
In less than fifteen minutes, Hortensia is back in the lobby, coming towards me like a storm, and letting everybody see how she kisses me -- the original French kiss that we all talking about.
I'm almost sure that everything has been recorded, and I'm just asking myself what they will be asking me about, when we are parted.
I honestly am having a lot of fun in the back of my mind.
Yeah, I know, I'm somewhat crazy, and I also have the shield of having a father who’s a big shot in the bloody system.
At my place, we don't waste time.
We are stark naked after less than five minutes, while Joe Dassin is accompanying us with his tunes, and the way she's milking my dick with her cunt. This time, knowing very well that I can let my jizz bathe her cervix since she's on the pill, the excitement makes me blow in less than a quarter of an hour.
The funny thing is the way Hortensia speaks, in English, until she gets fucking excited, and...then starts mumbling in French.
Gosh! This woman loooooves sex!
At around eleven in the evening, Hortensia asks me kindly to take her back to her hotel, since, according to her schedule, the following morning she needs to go to I don't remember what shitty meeting, but she needs to be changed into some approptiate clothes.
She is literally shocked how close her hotel is to my apartment.
In five minutes, we are in the lobby of the hotel, we kiss goodbye, arranging that the following day we will meet each other in the lobby, at five in the afternoon...
The moment I enter my apartment, I can hear the bell of my phone ringing so I answer.
It's my father, who asks me to come at his place as soon as I can.
Shit! They've done their work well!
My father is sipping from a cup of tea.
He's a declared enemy of alcohol consumption, and, generally, we haven’t been on real good terms, ever since I was only fourteen.
Right beside him, is a guy who looks just like him, somewhat the same age and attitude.
Anyway, if I am here, then chances of being arrested, or something, are really close to null.
My father has his eye glasses on his nose, and he's looking at some photos.
He suddenly throws one towards me, letting me see how I've been taken pictures while fucking Hortensia on that so called deserted island.
The bloody bastards have probably installed some remote controlled cameras on some trees, since the photo has been taken from upside down...
The two old guys keep on looking at the pile of photos, having, both of them, lots of fun.
They look at each other, don't smile, but ask me to be veeeeery attentive.
My activity, at the institute, is suspended, since I'm supposed to attend the new task, the French lady...
I'm given the address for the following morning, than I'm asked to leave the premises and... rest.
I say good bye and leave, hearing the two old guys laughing. It seems that they are having a lot of fun, at my expense.
At eight o'clock in the morning I am in the lobby of the hotel, asking a very attentive receptionist to call room number....
Seeing me, Hortensia is convinced that everything has been, in fact, arranged.
Her attitude is, somewhat aggressive towards me.
I just hate the situation, but, unfortunately, I have to face it...
I won't bother you with what we've been doing, during the working hours, the only important thing, if you want, being the fact that everyone was, somewhat, against me.
You may say whatever you want, but, unfortunately, there was a system over there, and, unfortunately, I was an outsider.
We are back at my place, and, gosh, how she grabs me by my balls, forcing me into the bathroom.
The water showers her beautiful hair, while her mouth is soooooo busy sucking my dick.
Actually, I cannot remember washing any other chick's hair while she's making herself busy with my dick, sucking it, licking it, and saying words in both English and French.
In English, at least, her preferred phrase seems to be, ”I am a slut, your slut, please use me and abuse me!”
I cannot tell if and how much I use and abuse her, but while sucking my dick, she often gags, although but this doesn't make her stop.
The flood of sperm, filling her mouth, seems to make her real happy.
She swallows it all, then starts licking my fucking dick...
Whawwwww! How good she is at it! She continues with my balls, the back of them, my ass hole, then goes to my pubes, my belly, the belly button...
She's tickling me like hell, with no mercy.
She just smiles, then makes her tongue encounter mine, so that we have a long and wandering kiss.
When she reaches, again, the head of my dick, it's already as hard as a rock, and she pushes me onto the rim of the tub, then, turning around, she just jumps on my dick, impaling her cunt and humping it with frenzy, as if we're supposed to go somewhere, and we're already late.
Gosh! How I loooooove it!
This communist party member girl is thoroughly corrupting me!
Luckily, I'm also a member of the communist party, so... who the heck is corrupting whom?!?
It doesn't take her more than thirty seconds of having her ass completely filled with my throbbing dick, when she gets the need to have her back door filled.
The way she works, it makes me ejaculate in less than ten minutes, while she's telling me that I am her “bijou”, meaning, as far as I know, a jewel.
Gosh! It's the first time in my life when my fucking dick becomes a jewel!
After two days, a young good looking girl, sad and with an attitude of a mouse, the one with her grandmother problem (who is by now dead and buried) joins us, asking me about the alphabet and some astrological reviews, so that I cannot fuck Hortensia during the day but only at night, comes and follows us, keeping us company, and taking care that we don't stumble on who knows what dangerous rocks.
After a few days, we take Hortensia to the airport in a taxi, and after her departure we take another taxi back to town.
A black car draws parallel with our taxi, and the man beside the driver makes a signal to the taxi driver to stop.
The guide, Lacy, leaves the taxi and gets into that car, though not before leaving, discreetly, a note, with her phone number.
The following day, when I reach at the institute, my place of work, I am asked to visit the counter espionage officer, who, while smoking a cigarette with me, asks me if I do consider that I have any remarks, or something to declare.
I just tell him, jokingly, that the woman has cracked all the records for ass fucking, since she's managed to take me all in in less than thirty seconds.
Please note that, in those times, here, ass fucking was a crime!
He finishes his cigarette, smiles, and tells me that, as he's heard, there is a lot of work someone is expecting me to do.
We shake hands, and he whispers, “Good job! Thank you!”
Ever since, nobody, my father included, has ever asked me about this episode of my life.