GIF #2 - Traveling Abroad

By Barker Tree

Michael:
So, I was stuck with my parents at this stupid conference in Italy. Like, it was cool and all to be in Italy, but they would just leave me at the hotel, which was totally in the middle of nowhere. Meanwhile, the company took them on tours and dinners. Just me and my phone, playing games.

The one bright spot was that there was another girl stuck here too, about my age. Our eyes met when we checked in and we shared a mutual look of boredom. She was pretty good looking, skinny and braided, and she looked away and then I didn't see her again for another day or two after she and her parents disappeared with their luggage into the elevator.

I spent a while wandering the halls to pass the time. It was like an old mansion or something, and mostly empty. I saw her flipping through her phone in one of the lobbies.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey," she said. "Stuck here too?"

"Yeah. Florence this ain't."

"You're telling me," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm Rachel."

"Michael," I said. I couldn't help looking her over out of the corner of my eyes, because she was really hot. "So... what are you up too?"

"Just texting my boyfriend," she said.

"Cool." I said, and I moved on. Figured.

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the grounds. They were huge, and there were like cool mountains and stuff in the distance. There was a little hill and I was curious to see an old looking shrine there, like ancient ruin stuff, only there were signs that it had been used recently. An old barrel and some ribbons and flower garlands. There were some statues there, I dunno, like Dionysus stuff or something, some merry-looking crazy smiling fellow, and some other statues. There was a Latin inscription covered in dirt, and curious I rubbed some of the dirt off. I knew a little Latin from going to a Catholic school, and my phone helped me with the rest.

Looked like a fertility rite. Say the words... for fun I started chanting and thought of Rachel. The thing rhymed pretty pleasantly. I liked thinking of her as the object of a fertility rite. Fertile, I thought. What an interesting word. The statue was smiling at me.


Rachel:
Things were sooo boring here. I was an art major, and I couldn't wait for the stupid conference to be done with so we could go to the Uffizi. I sat in my room in a large t-shirt, doodling on a sketchpad. I was drawing a picture of the Eiffel tower. Anywhere but here. My phone buzzed.

Sorry gotta go to bed, Aaron said, Time change! and I didn't even bother to answer. What was he doing going to bed at nine his time anyway?

I stretched and looked out the window. There was a little hill, and I could see that other hotel languisher, Michael, kneeling out at a little collection of pillars. What was he doing out there?

All of a sudden I felt a little woozy, like something had come over me. I shook my head and sat back down. I looked out at Michael again. He was pretty good looking, I had to say. Absent-mindedly I rubbed my stomach and ran a finger down. Too bad Aaron wasn't here.

I thought the wooziness would go away, but it persisted. It was like, I don't know, a light headache? Only it was affecting my moods? I had this odd horniness and again I lightly ran my fingers down between my legs. Geez. I should get dressed and walk around some.

I went to my suitcase and pulled out a presentable shirt, not the enormous shower T-shirt I was wearing. And then it was like I couldn't help myself. I reached into a side pocket where I had packed something more revealing. A crop top that I had bought in case we made it to the Mediterranean and went to any beaches. A girl can dream, I had thought packing. I had this insane desire to look good. To look enticing.

"Get it together, Rachel," I muttered to myself. "You're at a stupid hotel."

I stopped and thought for a while. The idea of walking around, enticingly, was maddening. I rolled my hips slightly. I wanted them to feel wide for some reason.

"Well, you're only young once," I said, tearing my shirt off and putting on my top, almost greedily. My entire waist was showing -- I was sure it wasn't appropriate for this sort of hotel, but knowing that made me feel happy, subversive. I blushed, thinking that it was a pretty strong come-on. I hoped some of the staff would see. A dumb, clueless American. Américaine. Boy, was that turning me on.

I was starting to feel a little worried. This wasn't like me at all. What was going on? I looked at myself in the mirror and admired my waist. Being skinny wasn't easy. I headed to the door, but felt nervous. I wasn't usually like this. I swear.

But then the wooziness intensified, and I felt the fear evaporate. It was almost... I dunno, exciting.

I walked around a little -- the hallways here were soo long -- and I got hornier and hornier, I felt kinda like a goat or something, I couldn't keep my hands away from myself. I stepped out onto the veranda and I got a glimpse of Michael in the distance. He was still sitting cross-legged at the ruins, and all of a sudden I was hit by this powerful crazy sense of rut. I backed up against the wall. Maybe if I take my pants off... I thought carefully.

"Rachel!" my brain said. "You can NOT take your pants off."

I looked down and noticed my jeans were already crumpled on the ground. I had done it, I realized with relief, before I could stop myself. It was just me and my polka-dot undies and ludicrous top.

Maybe just a little help to myself, I thought, sliding my fingers down. God, it was like I was itching a spider bite something, I had never felt so lustful, like today was made for being ridden. I felt ripe. The thought pushed me over and before I knew it my hand was down there making measured motions, and I pushed back against the wall. Oh my gosh. This felt really, really good. I started making these ridiculous noises right away. I was almost hoping someone would hear me.

I imagined being fertile. I don't know why, that's not something I usually think about. Young and fertile, perpetuating the human race, being used for that purpose and wanting it. God! Awesome. The thought made me look at my boobs. Were they bigger? I looked at them puzzled and grabbed them. They sure felt like it. It made me happy. Fertile.

I pulled off my top and threw it on the floor. My boobs just swung there, enticingly. My hands resumed diving. I felt like I was changing all over, slightly. I was delighted. Happy. And then I saw Michael turn the corner, dumbfounded.