What's the sexiest thing that's happened to you on a trip?
 

Inspired by the various European love stories, and annoyed that "lust" seems to have been deleted, tell us your erotic story. Please, for this thread, no honeymoon tales, or "It was with my husband/wife." We'll see how long this thread lasts. (Feel free to register under another name for your contribution!)

Since this was pre-marriage, I can tell this story without changing my name. It's not exactly a love story but is rather amusing in retrospect. We were 17 in Florence (my best friend and I) where we were thoroughly annoyed with the Italian pushy men. (Did I mention we were 17 and blonde and thought of ourselves as "liberated" women "degrated" by all the Florentine men's comments.) We were in line to climb the Campanile stair when we hear these 2 guys speaking English-after 3 weeks in Europe we were thrilled to hear English. They turned out to be 2 G.I.s from the nearby base-on from Oklahoma and one from Boston who proceeded to convince us to go off on their scooters with them and explore the countryside. We left and didn't make it much outside the Centro of Florence but had a great day and ended up at the Red Garter bar (an American bar in Florence) until the wee hours. When our fine military escorts walked us back to our hotel, they tried their hardest to convince us to let them come up to our room (after a while of the European pressed against the wall make out). We protested, they got ticked, but little did they know that we were travelling with my friend's parents who had given us a "free day". They would have been in for a big surprise had they come up to the room and seen my friend's father there! We thought we were highly rebellious running around with these G.I.s whom we would have never looked at at home.

It was my first time in Paris with a friend. She and I were about to cross the street when two young men approached us, the taller one was one of the most handsome guy I'd seen in ages. I spoke not a word of French but my friend did and was answering whatever he had said. She turned to me and said, they want us to join them at this cafe across the street to chat and I'll tell you why when there. As we sat , he talked, she translated. It turns out I looked like his fiancé who died in a boating accident. I said ya sure, that's a unique pick-up line I have ever heard. When she told him what I said, he passed me a photo. I thought I'd faint, she did look like me and what was so weird was that she was wearing an exactly the same outfit I owned(I always more mostly French and Italian clothes) We saw eachother after that, showing me around Paris and to his Aunt's tea room, and wrote to me every week when I returned. He spoke of coming to school in the states so that he could be near me. I stopped writing back with that. I would never be sure if he loved me or he thought he did because I looked like a dead young woman.
That was long ago, one of the many stories in the Naked City.

OMG Swelter! A friend of mine owned the Red Garter. There was an explosion, a waiter killed; so it was closed down.

Cigalechanta, what a bad story. Was this recent? They were recently listed in a guidebook recently because I noticed it when we were planning our trip to Florence last October and got a good laugh out of it!

no this was long ago in the 70's, the placed reopened with the partner. The one I know now lives in Florida and had a bar before that in key West, where his son now has a Provençal restaurant.

Great thread...While in Madrid about 15 years ago. I shared a pension with two swedish girls and we played "strip yahtzee" all night. I recently tried to reinact the game with my wife and she looked at me as if I were crazy.

A beautiful AA FA I met on a ORD-LHR flight.
Sometimes faith is stronger than any planning. She was working the business class and we did exchange some words and smiles but that's as far as it went. I was staying at a hotel in the Bayswater area in London. The same evening on the way back to the hotel I stepped inside a pub in the neighborhood, ordered a beer and stood by the bar. Guess who walks in? She was on her way back from some shopping to her place in the neighborhood that she shares with 3 or 4 other FAs. We talked and shared a beer. I had to get back to make some calls and she wanted to go home as well. I decided to go for it and asked her if she possibly wanted to have dinner later. To my suprise, she accepted and also suggested a place. It was an Indian restaurant. I walked her back to the apt, and went back to the hotel. Picked her up about 2 hours later, and since the restaurant was in the neighborhood, we just walked there. I can't remember the name of the place, but it was huge and very busy. The host/owner? recognized her and we got a table ahead of some people. It seemed so natural but we were having a beautiful time. The dinner was great, the host/owner came around and bought us a bottle of wine. Finally after about 2 hours of talking, laughing and just having a great time it was time to leave. As we were crossing the street I grabbed her hand and she accepted. We did not let go for the rest of the night. I walked her to the apartment(I'm not the one night stand expert type of a guy) but I decided to give her a good night kiss. We kissed for some time and she invited me for a drink. Her 2 roommates were stretched out on the couch, watching tv. They were not from the same flight and I believe one was actually a UA FA. I started some small talk with them, but she grabbed my hand and we went back to her room. Needles to say, the room service at the hotel had one less bed to make-up in the morning. :-D
She had to go back and I had to go up north to Manchester next day. We said our goodbyes and exchanged phone #'s in the US. We did actually talk few more times but we never saw each other again. She is based out of Chicago and I live in Florida.
I have not talked to her now for about a year and that's fine, but it is one of the most beautiful, fun, exciting, memories I will always cherrish.
Funny thing is, as much as I fly with AA(over 100K miles this year) and half of the trips are to England, I never ran into her, although when I ask the other FAs, she still does the UK routes. Maybe one day! :-)

We were at the Red Garter July 4th 1989-what a trip that was-when I think about how stupid we were taking off with these two guys! I hope I never have a daughter so stupid!

I went to Italy in fall 2000. I was single at the time (well, still am...but I have a boyfriend now), and was traveling with my aunt on a tour, because I didn't have time to plan and she felt more comfortable that way.

Anyway, I became friends with a woman about my age (early 30s) who was traveling with her mother. My new friend liked our bus driver, and he was a big flirt. He promised to take her out when we got to Sorrento. She didn't want to go alone, and wanted me to come. I said I would if the bus driver brought a friend.

The friend, Massimo, was about 25, gorgeous, and spoke very little English. We conversed in a mixture of English, Italian, and Spanish (NOT easy), but then went dancing and exploring Sorrento and had a fabulous evening, without having to say much.

The evening ended very late, with me sneaking from his room to mine - a no-strings-attached, I'll-never-see-you-again night that was totally freeing (safely practiced, of course).

At breakfast the next day, the bus driver said he had seen Massimo earlier and he seemed a very happy man...I live with a fond memory of doing something that was quite out of character!

I was 16, and it was my first solo trip to France to spend my summer at my cousin house in Avignon.
Almost every Sunday, my friend and I in our scooters drove in different small villages to enjoys the festivals, the music and most of all the dancing in the square.
Being a big city girl this was new to me and I truly enjoyed this simple life.
One Sunday, while I was dancing with someone, I saw this cute guy watching me all the time..Finally, he came over and asked me to dance..We danced the night away....He was there in vacation, but was leaving the next day for Sweden.

He gave me his family address, because he knew that I was going to Paris later on, and his family lived near Chartres.
We became pen pal for awhile, but we were young,..and life goes on..

So in other words, AAFrequentFlyer, your name has more than one meaning!!

Patrick,

:-D

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "airline loyalty".

It was a gorgeous spring day in Paris when I first laid eyes on her. While strolling eastward along the Rue St. Louis en l'Ile, I happened to look to my right into a small shop and was immediately captivated. So, getting up my nerve, I walked in...and a few moments later walked out with my hand around her.

I paused and looked at her, amazed that it had been so easy. My pulse began to race as the blood surged through my veins. Paying no attention to others nearby, I drew her close for a kiss, and my lips were rewarded with one of the most delicious sensations I've ever experienced. Did she enjoy it as much as I did? I couldn't tell; she was expressionless.

Puzzled, I drew her close and kissed her again. And again, no expression. Was this that famous French nonchalance I had heard about, or something else? Perhaps a kiss was not enough. Perhaps she wanted more. So I drew her close a third time and this time I licked her. And then licked her again. And again. Still no expression. My ardor now turning to frustration, I shouted at her "What is the matter? You don't pull away from me so you must enjoy this, yet you show no expression of delight or desire. Why? S'il vous plait...why?"

Just then I heard a voice to my right say "Monsieur..." I turned to see a young woman looking at me, shaking her head.

"Monsieur, perhaps it is because you are licking an ice cream cone, n'est-ce pas?"

One of the sexiest things that ever happened to me was in Paris....

My best friend and I, both married, went to Paris for my 30th birthday. We were on the Metro, and I caught a gorgeous guy looking at me across the crowd. The whole time between my seeing him and when he got off at his stop, he just kept glancing at me and smiling. Nothing else happened, but for that whole ride this newly-30 married woman felt much younger, and very flirtatious, and it was a really nice feeling.

My best friend and I had a wonderful time celebrating my birthday in Paris (I'd been before, she hadn't), and the whole trip, plus the short flirtation on the Metro, are great memories for me.

It was a devastating break up with the love of my life back in London. Our time together was blissful, but it was not meant to be and he moved away - leaving me cold and lonely in a dark, wet city. I fled to Assisi to lick my wounds and nurture my spirit. It was an oddly warm winter day when i emerged from my room at a tiny pensione. I met a delightful Scottish girl on the bus the day before and we planned to meet up for a late lunch. While enjoying a few bottles of wine and couple of steaming bowels of rebollita together, I watched as a man stood outside of the window taking notes and making sketches of the building. He was tall, slim, dark thick hair, and wore glasses. I noticed this how strong and deliberate his hands moved across his sketch pad. In retrospect he now reminds me of Andrea Boccelli and gifted with deep brown eyes. He was wearing long pants, a sweater vest and a jacket. When our firt course was being brought out I briefly looked away from the window. Crestfallen when I noticed that he was no longer outside of the window. Moments latter, he entered the osteria with a young couple. He was even more handsome then I thought. I could hardly keep my eyes off of him. We had finished two bottles of table wine between us and just when I thought it was safe to continue starring, he turned in my direction and smiled the sweetest smile I have ever witnessed to this very day. He only glanced two more times in my direction and excused himself from his table before the other couple orderd their meal. My friend was also very taken aback at the presence the mystery man had. While walking alone back to my hotel I realized that I was turned around. I kept walking in circles. As I turned another corner, The Man was coming out of one of the apartments. We almost literally bumped into eachother. After excusing ourselves he walked off and I pretended to know where I was going. It started to get late and a bit misty. Quietly the rain started to fall and I took shelter under an awning and I found myself thinking of the love I had lost and began to cry. I turned to look into a closed shop window and when my eyes were no longer focusing on the pottery inside, I saw the image of The handsome gentleman standing behind me. What a shock! He started to speak to me in Italian eventhough it was obvious that I was not Italian. He then proceeded to speak to me in perfect English. He said he noticed that I had been walking in circles and asked if he could direct me. The streets were almost deserted and the rain began to pour. Just then we decided to go next door to a small bar for a coffee. Coffee turned into brandy and one hour turned into three. His name was Gian Lucca, he was an architect from Sienna sent to Assisi to oversee some retro fitting. The couple he was in the restaurant with were his cousins and the house he was coming out of was a guest house his aunt kept for visiting family and friends. Outside, the rain had stopped and the sky broke out into every shade of purple and blue. He asked me if I would like to see something really beautiful. We hopped onto his BMW motocycle and he took me to the top of the city for a meraculous view of the valley below. The chill of the wind blew my skirt up and around my body as we explored the narrow roads around the city. He gave me his cashmere coat to keep me warm. The sleeve hung down to my knees, but the weight of it was comforting and I could smell his cologne "Cerrutti" on the collar.

This is not my story I swear but one of an old roomate when I was single. She was taking a train across Paris and Italian military men were also aboard. She always wondered what it would be like to make love on a train and found out for herself with a beautiful young Italian that she'll always remember.

On a trip to Banff one winter, my friend and I met some nice, funny Canadians. During the evening we found out they were well known professional hockey players, little did we know, so that was why the bartender kept giving them free drinks. They were wearing expensive suits and looked like accomplished businessmen, tall and muscular to say the least.

Mine drove me back to the hotel, we sat and sipped drinks on the shore of Lake Louise, watching the full moon on the water and the blue outline of the glacier. We kissed as the water lapped on the rocks at our feet as we watched the stars in a bright panoply above us. He too gave me his coat and I could feel his muscles taut under his shirt, he was so strong yet tender with me. He sang a song to me in French, he is French Canadien and had a low deep voice and could hold a note for a long, sexy time and then blow the rest of the notes in my ear and down to my neck.

A few months later he and I we met for a week in Hawaii, we rented a Harley motorcycle and rode all over the island in the rain. It rained almost every day and we would be completely drenched with our clothes dripping and clinging to us as we rode on the edge of the sandy beaches. One day we _______ on a deserted beach and were surprised when we received a round of applause from some locals picnicing under some trees, the first time he received applause when he wasn't wearing skates.

We dated for years and I would fly out to wherever he was playing and we would have romantic times all over Canada and America, but, alas.... we never visited Europe together.

ttt for Marilyn