Alpine Adventure

It was just as I was about to take the final slice of apple tart, when the young woman stopped by my table on the sun terrace, and asked me. "Is this seat taken?"

I looked up and there she stood, sunglasses perched on top of her head, in a long thick imitation fur coat over a gray suit. She wore a cashmere scarf around her neck, and snow boots on her feet. She also wore a very inviting smile.

"No, please!" I hesitantly beckoned to the chair.

Nodding her thanks, she sat down opening her coat, and let me see that she was indeed very well proportioned under that fake fur in her smart well cut suit, giving me a full panoramic view of her ample alps.

She must have been in her late twenties, early thirties, I really couldn't tell. What I could tell though, was that she was an extremely attractive woman, with short styled auburn hair and almost green eyes. She could have been Irish, but her accent was not from the Emerald Isle, and sounded American from her short request to sit at my table.

I smiled at her, rather embarrassed now, as I ate my apple tart with a large spoonful of whipped cream on top. It tasted just out of this world, and showed on my face in an expression of pure bliss.

"Are you here to ski?" I asked her as she watched hungrily, while I devoured the tart.

"No," she shook her head, still intensely watching the tart disappear.

"Maybe you'd like a coffee?" I offered, quite put off by her staring at me.

"Oh yes please, and a slice of that, if I may? It looks so delicious."

I caught the café waitress as she passed, and ordered two coffees and some more patisseries. May as well give her a selection I thought.

"So you are not here to ski, then perhaps you skate?" I asked politely, " or maybe you curl?"

"No, not those either, I'm just here to have some fun!"

"Good place to come. Sun, snow, and lots of beautiful people." I remarked.

The coffees arrived and she ate the first slice of apple tart like she hadn't eaten for a week.

"Forgive me, but you do seem a bit on the hungry side?" I wondered.

"Oh I'm sorry, but it has been a long day getting here, and yes, I am very hungry."

"What about a proper meal, a dish of something more filling?" I asked her, as she started on the second slice of fruit tart.

"No thank you, this will be fine, I will soon fill up my little stomach."

"Where are you staying?" I also wondered.

She stopped eating and then looked at me very intensely, and said quietly, "I thought I might stay with you for tonight!"

"You what?" I spluttered almost choking on my coffee.

"Only till I get myself settled in. It would only be for one night, or two maybe. What do you say?"

"Hell's teeth! How do you know I'm on my own, and not with someone else?"

"You just look as if you are here for a good time too." She replied, taking the last patisserie and munching into it.

"Can't you find a hotel, is that it?"

"Sure, I can find a hotel, but without any baggage and not much money to buy some, I would be out on the streets in no time. It turns pretty cold, up here, in the mountains at night.

Look Sweetie, please help Nikki, she'll be very good to you, she knows how to be nice, believe me!"

"I'm sure you do, ... Nikki." I stammered. "But it's not that easy. Swiss hotels do not take kindly to people bringing in unregistered guests. They don't mind the sex bit, it's the loosing out on the cost of an extra bed they get angry at. I know from past experience, they get very angry indeed, and besides I happen to like my hotel and don't want to be thrown out."

"You tell me the room number and the name of your hotel, and I'll get in with no one seeing me, it's that simple!"

She touched my hand, and not only because her hand was cold, did it sent a shiver down my back. Her green eyes looked deep into mine and I was lost for a moment in all her sultry, female pleading.

"It can't be done it, I'll be caught and thrown out."

I blurted out, trying to reason with her, but she still had hold of my hand and was still searching my face for some kind of help.

Some days you throw caution to the wind and to hell with the risk. This could be just one of those days, I thought, as my mind raced, and I looked once more at those perfect breasts she had hidden under her pink jumper and jacket.

"Just one night?" I hesitated, hardly believing I had asked.

"Or two!" she replied smiling, knowing full well that she had won.

"Okay, but I'm not happy, not happy at all. It's number thirty- eight, on the third floor, Hotel Berg, just across the square, over there. Use the lift, but go into the underground car park and take it from there. The third floor ... can you remember all that?"

"Yes, but can we go now? I would love to take a hot bath."

I paid the café bill, and walked away from her, and over to my hotel. A new building, but done in a pleasing Swiss style, giving an air of old looking modernity, so as to blend in well with the many old traditional chalets in the town.

I collected my room key from the front desk, and then took the lift, and strolled on down the corridor to my room overlooking the frozen lake and the surrounding mountains. It would be a pity to get thrown out of this lovely room with a view, however beautiful the prospects it might afford.

I smiled at remembering Gerald Hoffnung's reading of an alpine hotel brochure that stated there was, 'A French widow in every bedroom, affording great prospects.' I wondered if my American was going to be just plain affordable?

She had to be on the game, I decided. No doubt about that, but the hell if I was going to pay her for services rendered. She owed me now!

A knock at the door brought me back to reality, and I quickly let her in.

She kissed me warmly on the cheek and giggled with excitement as she danced around the room, touching bits of furniture. I took it that she liked the room, as she flung her coat off and the jacket of her gray suit, before diving onto the bed still giggling madly.

"Is the room to Mademoiselle's liking?" I asked, wanting to hear it from her.

"Perfect Cherie. Come here and let me kiss you. You are so very kind to Nikki in her hour of need!" she laughed, speaking in a French accent.

I knelt with one knee on the bed, but she caught my arm, and pulled me to her and kissed me. She was gentle at first. A definite, thank you kiss, but then came passion, and a definite, I want you, kiss!

I rolled over onto her, and pinned her down, and started to devour her. She ate me back, and made soft moaning whimpers as I bit her lower lip and felt her small firm breasts. Lifting up her jumper and bra, I felt their eagerness to be loved. Their hard nipples were so perfect, as I squeezed them, and then enjoyed their horny hardness, as I sucked them, one after the other into my mouth.

I had my hand between Nikki's legs now, and rubbed her crotch hard as she writhed at my touch.

All I knew was, that right now I wanted to fuck this American girl, whore or no whore, and it seemed to me that she was in the mood to be fucked too.

"I should first take a bath." She gasped, struggling in my arms. "I feel so dirty from all that traveling."

I like them dirty, I thought. To hell with washing, she can wash afterwards.

I started to strip her naked, and she obligingly let me do as I wanted with her. When she was all so beautifully bare, she helped me to throw off my own clothes onto the floor, and lay back on the bed, legs wide apart. With a welcoming smile on her face, she bid me enter her.

She reached out and taking my cock in her hand, led it to the lips of her very wet and wanting pussy. Her legs came up with her knees pressing hard against her small full breasts, as she slipped me inside her with a groan. Then she brought her legs up over my shoulders and said something in French of which I only caught the odd word, but knew it had to be deliciously dirty.

I pumped her roughly while she looked into my eyes, tossing her head from side to side and telling me to screw her really hard!

I wondered if she said that to all her clients?

She obviously like to be screwed, it was her work after all, but some pleasure had to be gotten out of it, some way along the line of her daily grind.

Pictures of a student friend of mine, vomiting into a gutter in Paris, after having been with a pretty little whore in the Place du Tertre, crossed my mind. It had not been anything she had done that up set him, but the sordid sight of her next customer waiting outside the cheap hotel room door that had turned his stomach inside out.

Best not to dwell on matters of that kind I thought, still wondering how, and where, and with whom she had been?

She rolled me over and sat straddled across me, holding my shoulders down and now pumping me. She gasped and let out a shriek, as she climaxed, sending waves of pleasure from her cunt racing through out her body. She purred and smacked her lips and said, "Oh yes!"

I threw her off me and kneeled up on the bed behind her. She lay on her side in a scissors position, and with one knee between her parted legs, I thrust my cock back into her pouting puss. I pulled backwards on her outstretched right arm watching as she turned to look at me, smiling sexily and saying, "Oh yes Darling, fuck me hard, I need it hard!"

Her cunt was now so wet, it positively squelched, as I thrust my cock in and out of it. She was certainly a very wet and wanton woman. I pulled her bum's cheeks apart so as I knelt there, I could watch my cock fucking her hooker's hole. I saw the pale white juices coating my shaft as she drooled for me, and told me dirty things she loved to do. Filling my head with luscious filth that made me lust for her even more.

She groaned, and I asked if I was hurting?

"No, don't stop. I just love it!" she hissed.

It didn't take us long. It couldn't have taken any longer, as her magical minge was flying fast to paradise.

I told her 'soon', and she begged 'yes'. Then we started to cum in a massive combined orgasm that made us scream the place down, as we fucked and bucked and trembled on that hotel bed.

No French this time, just plain Anglo Saxon swear words, as she got herself off, wrapped around my throbbing knob, as it spewed its seed into her contracting cunt.

"Now, I think you can take that well earned bath, my Yankee Doodle." I sighed, feeling blissfully exhausted, thinking that she was some damned Doodler, this room guest of mine.

We lay in the bath together, with no need for me to play the hero and take the tap end. This bath had the tap and plug in the middle so we each had a smooth end to rest our heads. All so very efficient, and so very Swiss.

She told me her name was Nicole. She lived in Paris, and her mother was French and that her father was an American journalist. Her friends called her Nikki, while her father called her Nick. He always wished for a son he didn't have. She didn't say what she did for a living, only that she had a degree in mathematics, and had studied in both America and Paris.

I simply told her my name was John, and that I was employed in Agriculture. We left it at that, and lay back in the hot water and tickled each other all over with our toes.

"There is one final request I have to ask you John." She said, as we dried each other off. "Could you take me to the Aristo Club tonight?"

"That's not a cheap place Nikki. It's the place where they buy their drink by the bottle, and have little private lockers to store it in."

"I need to land myself a man there, just to help get me started. Do please take me. You can go as soon as I'm settled in."

"You'll need something a bit better to wear than a pink jumper. Maybe if I was to buy you a new silk blouse that might help?"

She kissed me, and we got dressed and went out to shop. Later wearing her new elegant Italian printed silk blouse with a new scarf, we ate in the little Stubli under the Hotel Berg where the four-man band was in full swing.

My blonde Swedish friend Titti, waved to me, as she sat with her captain and co-pilot of the small jet they had flown here, bringing some industrialists to ski for a few days. Titti was bored, and didn't care much for snow, as she lived in the stuff most of the year back home. She did however, care for drink. She loved whiskey, and also the taste of an obliging cock, to chew on, in between her drinks.

I had met her in the hotel lift. We both got on going up, and ten minutes later we both got on together going down, this time dressed in overcoats to go out.

"We meet again!" I had said, a bit taken back, as if by magic, this tall stunning blonde had appeared out of nowhere.

She smiled at me, and linking her arm in mine said, "Where should we go then?"

We had walked around the town enjoying all the pretty lights. We listened to the crunch of very cold frozen snow beneath our feet, and watched the small sparkles of ice crystals floating in that pristine pure alpine air. Later we went to a bar and had a few drinks, before returning to my room to sample my duty free bottle of single malt whiskey, where I tried to fuck this Nordic beauty to a standstill.

I ordered us schnitzel with a large salad and pomme frits together with a carafe of white wine.

Helga waited on us at the table, and did her usual plum fairy walk, as she promenaded about the Stubli.

"She's a ballet dancer." I told Nikki, as way of explaining that odd walk with the feet pointing to a quarter to three, toes down.

"I bet she is." Came Nikki's reply, as she looked the wafer thin young German girl up and down.

"She's working her passage to America."

"You can bet your life on that too!" She grinned, raising an eyebrow.

There is something I always think, so very frail and feminine about ballet dancers. They are like little dolls that need just love and attention. So frail they might break if you were rough with them. Helga, however, was definitely not in the frail league, but did need the love and attention on a daily basis. I put it down to her highly artistic bent, together with her shaved pussy that must have kept reminding her of its needs day and night. She said it was shaved so as not to show through her white dancing tights, but I think she just loved that smooth cool feeling, that kept her so continually sexy.

The real problem with Helga, was not her insatiable lust for being loved, nor her hard skinned feet that she liked to put everywhere, but the alarming fact that the hotel Chef was her husband! This fact had somehow just slipped her mind, and it was only after the dirty deed was done, so to speak, that I found out she was indeed married to a very large and jealous chef.

Being the owner of a dangerous assortment of cooking knives, which could inflict terrible and permanent damage to one's person, made me promise myself to lock my bedroom door securely each night from then on.

It was nine-thirty when we arrived at the huge baronial Royal Palace Hotel, up on the hill, over looking the town.

We handed in our over coats at the cloakroom and went down stairs to the Aristo Club.

As always, it was full to bursting point, and we pushed our way to the bar and found a couple of seats spare. From here we could survey the dance floor and all the tables of laughing people.

I bought us both a couple of drinks. A beer for me and for Nikki a tonic water.

"Don't you want anything in it?" I shouted to her above the noise of the music.

"No thanks, I want a clear head tonight."

We danced, and then she told me. "Okay, I have him in my sights."

"Which one?" I wanted to know.

"Over there, he's on his own and he looks nice and rich."

"He looks fat and horrible to me!" I replied in disgust. I looked at her choice and shuddered, thinking of my friend throwing up in a Paris gutter.

"Leave me now, I'll be fine. Trust me, you go home."

I felt kind of hurt, and used, and very angry, telling her. "I'll leave the door on the latch in case you decide to come back."

I'd been asleep for some hours when I heard her in the room, moving about. I switched on the bedside light and looked at my watch. It was three thirty.

"My God it's late." I said squinting at her. She swayed at the end of the bed and it was obvious that she was slightly drunk. "Well, how did it go? Did you score?" I demanded to know.

She reached into her coat pocket and pulling out her hand, threw a fistful of money up into the air.

"I'm very tired, and I think I might just pass out!" Nikki sighed.

I sprang up out of the bed and grabbed her as she swayed on her feet. I pulled off her coat and then let her collapse onto the bed.

She seemed to fall asleep in an instant but I managed to undress her and roll her under the duvet and then climb into bed myself and lie there wondering what on earth she had done for that money?

"Ah breakfast!" I called out, pulling on the white hotel bathrobe, to answer the knock on the bedroom door, sometime after nine the next morning.

"Herr Kalbermatten! Don't tell me you have a staff shortage this morning?" I asked, surprised to see the hotel manager holding my breakfast tray."

"May I have a word with you Herr Stephens?" He spoke in a soft, serious voice.

"Please, come in. Here, let me take that tray."

I placed the tray on the small table by the bed and smiled my best smile, knowing that this could be trouble.

"I was wondering just how long your American lady friend was intending to stay with us?"

Loud singing came from the bathroom, and Herr Kalbermatten nodded his gray haired head in that direction, with all the seriousness of a Swiss banker talking about the holy subject of money.

"We are just about to comb the town for a room, as soon as we have eaten."

I added cheerfully, to try and set the esteemed Herr Manager at his ease. "But as I know only too well, it is the height of the season, and all hotels are fully booked, so it will not be an easy task before us."

"Indeed. As a cherished customer, we would like to help you out here, with say, a nice double room, but alas there is simply nothing available. However my good friend Rubi Wiess, who owns the Hotel Alpenblick, by the church, has a single room free from this morning, if you care to take it?"

"That would be splendid." I said with relief, wondering if he had been ringing round the town all night to find us a room? "Would you tell him that we will take it, and call later this morning to make the arrangements."

The gray haired manager bowed his head and with a sly smile added quietly, almost in a furtive whisper.

"What an amazing woman, your friend is! She is the talk of the town today."

"Really?" I asked, not too sure how this conversation was going to go.

"Oh yes, everyone is talking about her. What a night she had at the Royal Palace Hotel."

I had terrible visions of some kind of wild orgy having taken place. Maybe it had been lewd striptease on top of the bar? Men placing huge bets on her, for all manner of reasons. The mind boggled at the things Nikki-Noo could have got up too.

"Some Crown Prince from the Emirates, lost over ten thousand francs to her on the single flick of a card."

"Really?" I gasped, trying to catch on.

"First, she nearly broke the bank playing roulette, and then went on to clean out the Baccarat players. The Prince was so angry at being beaten time after time by a woman, he pushed all his chips into the middle of the table and bet your friend, all his money, for her!"

"Oh my God!" I gasped.

"My wife's, brother's boy, works at the Casino, and he told us everything this morning. There were free drinks all round, and there was a wild party going on, all by courtesy of your friend. You should have been there to have seen it all."

"I ... I was not well. I came back early, I'm afraid. I do seem to have missed all the fun. I haven't had time to talk with Nikki yet, about it all."