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I stood behind my colleague, Dan, waiting in line for him to complete check-in at the hotel we were staying in for work for the next several days. We were halfway through the trip, having travelled from Chicago to Europe, and from the first stop in Norway to our second here in Germany. He was talking to the young lady behind the counter, and I was desperately trying to hear what she was saying. Well, at least trying to hear her German-influenced English accent.
I fell into thought about how I loved to travel, to experience different culture and architecture, but that I hadn’t been on many international work excursions because of the large workload and domestic travel I had in my prior job. That was one of the reasons I left the company for a position in another company: the workload. The boss was kind of a shit as well, but I was ready for something new, and this company was providing me with new challenges. Things were great, though different, and still I was still becoming accustomed to the job, but overall it offered more balance to my work-driven lifestyle than before, and had opened up opportunities to travel I never had that I always wanted.
Many years ago I took a couple of German language classes, Spanish too, and because it had been more than twenty years, I was curious to see how much would come back to me here in Germany. Already having travelled through the airport and train, I was daunted by just how much I didn’t know and couldn’t remember. But, it was fun trying to understand the people riding on the train, the signs posted along the way while we travelled on the train, and then navigating our way to the hotel.
The hotel was fairly close, and we walked for just a couple of blocks from the train station rather than catch a cab or rely on some other transportation. In all, it was more opportunity to try to remember words, phrases, how sentences were structured, and start to experience the language best I could, even though we were surrounded by sex shops, casinos, and restaurants.
Somewhere in my reverie, I came back to the present to catch the hotel clerk telling my co-worker that a voucher for coffee and cake would be valid any time, though breakfast time might not be best due to the volume of people in the afternoon. Stopping for a second, she quickly caught the error and corrected what she said, saying that it was busiest in the morning. Interestingly, she turned a slight pink color out of embarrassment and kind of laughed it off with Dan. I smiled. I had forgotten that the people here were speaking a second language for them, English, and though they certainly had more experience with English than I had with German, I felt a bit more settled about being in a foreign country.
My co-worker stepped away from the desk, and I stepped up. I measured the young lady in front of me, Sabine, as she ran through the check-in routine – calm, respectful, assured, and confident in her English. Sabine was 5’7″, maybe 24 years old, thin, and fair skinned with color similar to a white seashell glowing a light peach from the sun setting on a tropical beach – radiant, soft, and lovely. Her hair was parted above her left eye, pulled over to the other side and back into a tight bun, though still exuding texture and color with light brown providing a backdrop to blonde highlights that reflected playfully under the light above the counter. She had very full lips, with strong facial features that were definitely attractive. Under a blue blazer she wore a white shirt with a white tie – oversized compared to the way men would wear a tie in the United States – with a pair of blue blazers to match. Though the uniform didn’t exactly compliment her shape, I could tell from when Sabine bent over to get the receipt from the printer that she had nice curves and that she was shapely if not in shape as well. Yes, I was looking, I couldn’t help it. What can I say?
I smirked as I thought of a “cute” little comment I could make from her encounter with Dan. I’d always had a penchant for playfulness, though it had backfired on me with several women in the past, and I sort of fluttered inside thinking of what it would be like to say it. Hell, it wasn’t like I was going to say it, mind you, because it would be kind of flirting and I was definitely of out of practice.
You see, I was quite shy. My hesitancy to connect with new people had led me to a career in IT, where I could write programs and code away hours into the night, or read up on the latest technology trends in journals and magazines. I had never been an avid online gamer or social site follower, so I didn’t have much of a community of friends that way. I had a few close friends, like me, which resulted into numerous nights of drinking and watching Star Wars or The Lord of The Rings trilogies. It was a good, perhaps sometimes lonely, life.
And it’s not that I was overweight, or rail thin, or that I had really bad acne, or wicked crooked teeth, or coke-bottle glasses mind you. Not that any of those are bad or wrong, it’s bakırköy escort just that I was roughly six feet tall, 175 pounds, and I’ve been told that I’m handsome. I ran 20-30 miles a week after fighting the weight gain that had crept up on me, losing twenty pounds from my heaviest. At 41, I had a full head of hair still that I styled into a curly mess on the top of my head, with grey here and there in a way that some called “distinguished,” though to me I just felt older. I had what I thought was a larger nose than should be, but average size down there, if you know what I mean. Sure, one of my former girlfriends had told me I had more girth than other men she’d been with, but I guess I took that with a grain of salt. It was just that I was shy. Oh well…
“Here is your voucher for coffee and cake, sir, which is good at any time,” Sabine continued her talk.
“OK, then, is that breakfast in the afternoon?” I blurted, surprising myself and smiling a broad smile through my rose-tinged skin as I felt a rush of blood come to my face from embarrassment. I was now unbelievably nervous and hadn’t really expected to say it out loud, but there it was.
Then she did the most amazing thing: she smiled. Not just a “Nice comment, asshole,” kind of smile, no. Sabine gave me a bright, light-up-the-room kind of smile that filled my entire vision. She, too, had blushed, perhaps what I said embarrassed her, maybe my shit eating grin caught her off guard, but it was absolutely the most delightful experience of my day, and possibly the trip.
She laughed, and kept smiling throughout the rest of my check-out experience, my to my delight. We finished, and I left, feeling definitely warmer than I had when I came in. Was it from the hotel’s heating system or from her? Stupid, of course it was her.
I worked my way up to the room, pulling my luggage behind me carrying a backpack full of computer equipment on my back. I thought back – damn – I must’ve looked like the hunch back from Notre Dame because I never took it off during my encounter with Sabine. So much for a good impression. I popped the door open and, with much effort, threw all my stuff down and fell back on the bed, reliving my experience in my mind. Then, I fell asleep.
“Ring-Ring” the phone rang, waking me from slumber. Ok, it was more like sounding a bull horn next to a monkey sleeping soundly on a tree branch: I basically screeched the call of the jungle as I jumped off the bed in a state of confusion, nearly falling to the floor while looking for the phone. “Ring-Ring” it went again, and I swore under my breath at whoever was on the other end of the phone, rubbing my knee that had hit the bed frame. I picked up the receiver, “Helllo?”
“Jack, it’s Dan. We’re downstairs waiting for you.” Oh shit, I thought. Six O’clock. We had promised to meet our contact in Germany for dinner and a tour around downtown.
“Ok, sorry, I, uh, got tied up in my work,” I said, stammering and pulling on my shoes. “I’ll be right down, Dan.”
“OK, thanks,” Dan said curtly, and hung up. Crap. I wasn’t sure if this would be a night of drinking, of work conversation, of bull shitting around or what. So I didn’t dress up, hoping that would signal that I didn’t want to go to someplace with a dress code or a lot of people, and headed downstairs.
The night went better than expected, mostly. We had great food in a well-known, older place that had been serving food for over a century. That was one thing I liked about Germany that we just didn’t have in the United States: places to go with history and a story. Over dinner, our local guide, Robert, told numerous stories about the local area, how people treated each other differently that were from different regions from across the country, and plenty about history as he had studied and travelled extensively. We finally wrapped up dinner conversation and eating after nearly three hours, something that typically took 45 minutes at home for me when I ate on my own. Oh well, when in Rome.
Back toward the hotel, I remembered my experience with Sabine and smiled. Neither of my walking mates noticed, but I started to get anxious about seeing her again. As we neared, I got even more concerned, and excited, but as we entered the hotel, she wasn’t anywhere to be found. I suppose her shift ended, or she was on break, I didn’t know. We sat down and, unfortunately because I was tired from getting up very early for the flight that day, Robert spent the next two hours going through sales material and ideas for helping us sell our services throughout the world. I kept looking back at the reception desk, but Sabine never returned. I was bummed. Finally, around 2am, we called it a night and I headed back to my room. I fell asleep in minutes.
I awoke naturally around noon the next day, which I had scheduled as a down day. Wow – that was more sleep than my typical 5-6 hours a day that I got at home. I guess that exhaustion is a pretty good sleep aid, and I was glad beşiktaş escort I had booked an extra day during the week to “recover” from travel. As usual, however, I noticed I had the typical morning wood and for some reason my thoughts returned to Sabine. I felt blood surge as I remembered her radiance the day before, and nonchalantly began to stroke my hard-on, as it had been since I started to travel since I last masturbated. The thought of her smile got my imagination in full gear. I pictured passionately tearing away that ridiculous uniform to find a thong sashaying up her scrumptious ass, and a bustier that allowed her nipples just to peek above her bra.
Without warning I felt the familiar rush bubbling in my groin, and I wildly threw back the sheets with my other hand, stroking still with the other. My breathing labored, my orgasm triggered and I spurted so hard that I got myself on the cheek, neck, and chest before slowing down and dribbling onto my stomach. Another inch or two, and I would have shot into my own mouth, which had been wide open when I came. Thinking of licking my own cum off Sabine (that would be a first, hey, I was fancying things I hadn’t before) caused a twitch in my hand and a small rush of blood, not enough to get me hard again, but enough to know that I was surely revved up by Sabine for some reason.
I got up, tip toed over to the bathroom, making sure not to spill anything on the ground as I went, and wiped off with toilet paper. I wandered back into the room, dug around in my suitcase for my bag of toiletries, headed back to the bathroom and had a nice shower, continually letting my mind run back to Sabine, not so much as to get me riled up again but enough to keep me mentally excited.
Around 1:30pm I cautiously wandered downstairs hoping she was at work but, alas, she wasn’t there. I hadn’t eaten, and because I wasn’t particularly hungry, I ended up walking around for two hours in the rain under an umbrella before my stomach started growling. Interestingly, I could have sworn that I saw Sabine walking toward the hotel at one point, but it could have been either wishful thinking or that she was on my mind. She was all bundled up like a child getting ready for playing outside in the snow, hood and mittens and all, and I half smiled and smirked at the thought of her with pigtails and a long, hard lollipop in her hand, licking it with fervor, wearing nothing but a big ribbon in her hair. I know, I know, what can I say? She really had me going and my naughty side was emerging.
I stopped at a well-known restaurant, and had the sausage and beer – how could I not, I was in Germany. During my meal, somehow my umbrella disappeared from the restaurant, and I left uncovered wondering if this was a European tradition, or practice, or what: I didn’t know that I could’ve just taken another one as I learned later from Robert. It was raining really hard now compared to earlier, and after several blocks, not only was my head soaked, but my feet hurt because my shoes and socks were soaked from all the walking before, my pants were dripping from the knee down, and my coat was wet through to my shoulders. I probably looked like a drowned rat, I was cold, so I was in my head about how I could code something as I trudged through the front door of the hotel. I hadn’t even thought that Sabine might be working: and of course she was. She looked up from behind the desk and kind of smirked, putting her hand over her mouth. Reflexively, I gave her a grimaced, tight lipped smile. I could swear that she even giggled when I did that. Nice, I thought, real nice – way to make an impression, dumb ass.
Sloshing up to my room, I threw my clothes to the ground and changed into new ones to keep warm. I even tried to take the hair dryer to my coat to dry it out, but I’m not sure it helped much since the heat from the dryer didn’t amount to much. I unfolded the laptop, sent some emails, and texted Dan to see if we could talk about our work the next day. We connected in a little library section on our floor, and as we wrapped up, we agreed to meet for dinner and then left for our respective rooms.
Coming out of my room, I strode over to the balcony looking over the entryway, small dining and bar area, and reception. There was Sabine. She hadn’t noticed me, I don’t think, as she was helping other customers. From above, I could see the round curve of her ass as she moved around and could just make out her breasts tucked beneath the lapels of her blazer. My thoughts started to wander again. Maybe she was wearing a red bra, the kind with the underwire that sometimes poked a little too much, that she wanted me to take off so she draw full breaths as I touched her stomach. Perhaps she had on boy briefs, and somehow they were all bunched up and she desperately wanted me to rip them off as she arched her back at my touch and the release from the bounds of her clothing. Frozen, I just stood looking, admiring, when Dan slammed his room door shut and came beylikdüzü escort sauntering my way. Reluctantly, I stepped back from my position, savoring each moment my eyes were soaking her in, and Dan and I left for dinner.
The food wasn’t much, but it was healthy and it was a good change from the pizzas under the door and hamburgers on the road. There was a small generation gap and a few political differences between Dan and me – not much but enough to make certain discussion topics a little strange. Fortunately, he was a great guy and the discomfort was far outweighed by the interesting conversation. The rain remained constant the entire time, and we came back to find Sabine still working behind the counter. At this point I just wanted to hear her voice, though I was still scared to talk to her, and I slowed down desperately trying to think of something to say to her.
“Want to come up to my room and fuck me silly?” No, that wouldn’t work, dumb ass. Maybe what I wanted to say, but that’s just insensitive.
“Hi Sabine, I’ve missed you.” All right, creepy. Way too creepy.
“Hi, can I get an extra key to my room? I’d like to give it to you.” Smarmy, weak, come on man, think of something – anything.
Dan called over, “What’s going on?”
Desperate, I stammered, “Uh, just head up, I’m seeing if they have… something.”
“Okay…” he responded, a bit quizzically, and headed up the stairs.
I turned to Sabine. She smiled. I melted. Fuck it – shoot from the hip.
“Hi, um, do you have a pen larger than the ones that they have in the room?” Brilliant. Well, at least it was something, and it came out as a full sentence. And the pens in the room did seem about the size of your thumb and how the hell are you supposed to write with something like that? Well, that’s what I thought when I saw it the first time I walked into the room, anyway and it somehow formulated into a sentence when I saw the bright orange pen in her hand. I looked up from the pen and back and up into her eyes. I melted again. Damn it.
“Um, this one here is mine,” she spoke. Sabine turned – hmm, lovely behind – and she gleefully chirped when she found a full-size pen and turned back to me. I took it from her, smiled and said thank you, and headed up to my room. I opened the door, walked in, and shut the door behind me, heart beating far too fast for a small encounter like that. What the hell was I doing? I felt like a friggin’ school boy. I didn’t need the god damned pen. I considered it, resting in my hand. Nothing special, it had the hotel logo on it, silver, just a pen.
Then it hit me. I could write. Pretty well, as a matter of, well, my opinion. I tore my laptop out of mmy backpack and quickly typed up:
“Hi Sabine. I am writing a story about you. I plan to finish tonight and if you would like, you can read it. However, it is sexual, and if you are uncomfortable with that, then I will write the story but keep it for myself. I will return to the lobby around 10pm. If you want to read the story, tell me how to get it to you. To be clear, I have no expectations of you… just giving you the chance to understand how others might see you. Jack.”
Then, for the next 30 minutes or so, I laboriously translated it into German. I’m sure it wasn’t accurate, with the right sentence structure, but at least it was something. I hand wrote a note using the translation along with paper that the hotel supplied, wrote her name on it, and somehow managed the courage to step out the door. I made it down the stairs without stumbling, amazingly, and kind of tripped into the lobby. There she was, working away, nobody else at the counter. Hell with it. Perspiring, butterflies tearing about my nerves, I strode up to the desk and put down the pen with the note placed under the clip.
“Danke schoon,” I did my best in German, thanking her for the pen.
“Bitte schoon,” Sabine responded, the customary response, looking curiously at the folded paper.
“Fur dich, aber… read it later,” I said, mixing up my German and English. I knew how to say it was for her but, well, I couldn’t remember the word for “read.” Why didn’t I take more German classes?
“OK,” she said, picking up the paper and putting it into her pocket. “Danke?”
Was that a question or just the way it should be said in German? I ran up to my room about at the speed of light, fearful of her or anyone else catching up to me, wondering what might happen next. Next. Shit. Now I have to actually write something.
It was late, but I had to get started. I had appointments the next day, so I looked around for the clock – nothing. I looked around for the phone – there it was, but it didn’t have a wake-up button on it. There was a pamphlet there, though and, after skimming it, I found out how to set up a wake-up call: through the front desk. Voila! There was the premise for my story!! And Voila! I was freaked out!! I still had to set the wake-up call, which required me to go back downstairs and talk to Sabine. After 20 minutes of working up the courage, I peeked out of my room, walked out and looked over the balcony. Not there, some guy. Whew! I hustled downstairs, set the wake-up time, and bolted right back up. Though I was relieved she wasn’t there, I was also disappointed that I didn’t get to see her.
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