This is my second edition of a story I wrote and published a few years ago.
*****
CHAPTER ONE
Day One
Jasmine opened her carry-on luggage as the customs agent checked its content.
"Nothing to declare," she said.
Her face warmed as he verified the name on her birth control pills against the passport. "Any other drugs?"
"No, just this one prescription," she said.
"Have a wonderful stay." He closed her carry-on and handed it back.
Her face warmed again, but she smiled. "Thanks, I do plan an exciting time."
Her first actual vacation in her more than twenty years of life, she planned to indulge in her love of museums and the elimination of her problem.
Jasmine grabbed the rest of her bags, rested them on the cart, and pushed them out of Heathrow to the curb. She stood in line and waited her turn at the Long Distance check-in. The taxi captain signaled and a cab pulled up to the stand. He signed the LD car out. The black boxy carriage, with their old-world charm, made her feel grown-up and sophisticated. She appreciated the alternative taxi design of the Beardmore, with its distinctive red body and black top, but considered the all black version as traditional and therefore more elegant.
The driver slipped out of the hackney and moved around to the sidewalk. She stared at him. A vague sense of recognition intruded on her. The scent of his cologne drifted forward. Maybe he's wearing the same cologne as someone I know.
The cabbie moved to help load her luggage in the boot. His muscles bulged and rippled with each movement of his arms. Jasmine focused on him as he walked toward her and then opened the door. She estimated his height at about five-feet, eight inches, maybe two inches above her. I like the sight of this man.
She flexed her long slender legs as she lowered herself into the back. She inched the hem of her azure, tight-fitted skirt, up just a fraction as she swung her legs into the well of the cab.
The name on the license listed him as Alfredo, and his chestnut curly hair and hazel eyes with delightful moustache suggested he was something other than English.
"Your destination, Miss?" His accent, more Spanish than Portuguese, told the tale. "The Knight's Hotel, Manchester," she said. "Por favor."
He laughed a hearty laugh and Jasmine smiled at him.
"American?" he asked. "Business?"
"American, yes...but pleasure." She took off her suit jacket and adjusted her position to get comfortable for the four hour ride.
"My itinerary includes England, France, Spain, with stops in Amsterdam and the Italian Riviera."
"That's a wonderful holiday. Graduation present?"
"Yes." Jasmine smiled. "I just graduated from college, Class of '79. I am scheduled to enter medical school in the fall. This is a present to myself. I worked two jobs for the last six years so I could make this trip. I have been saving for this holiday since high school."
"I love the money," Alfredo said. "But, why didn't you take the train from Trafalgar Square? It would save you two hours."
"I want to be able to stop whenever I want," said Jasmine. "I just need to reach the hotel by four o'clock."
Jasmine smiled. A revelation jumped to the front of her mind. This man personified her vision of a fantasy lover. The man she visualized when she masturbated. A blend of her favorite leading men from late night movies. Her perfect fantasy of a more mature man who taught her all the delights of adult sex, not just some boring humping. How funny. I imagined I might meet him in Spain or Italy.
Her mother tried to convince her that she would have more fun with her friends, but Jasmine had a special plan for this vacation. On this trip, she planned to search until she found the right man to lay. She would scour every country...every city on her schedule, if need be. She'd managed to repress her sexual appetite until now, but she determined to release it from its confinement.
Before she left the States, she arranged more than the usual booster shots. She covered herself for every conceivable, known disease, transmitted through sexual contact. She refused to leave Europe before she found her first lover and learned about good sex...whatever that was. She had always been ahead of her peers in every way, except this virginity thing.
Jasmine studied Alfredo's face reflected in his rear-view mirror. In the mirror, Alfredo eyed her back...maybe. Her stomach and chest warmed to the memory of last night's fantasy...a strange man on the plane sitting next to her, putting his hand under the blanket that covered her, stroking her leg and touching her through her underpants. Alfredo, my fantasy lover?
She placed her back against the left corner of the back-rest, pulled up her skirt and put both legs on the seat. Her C-cup bra peeked through her short-sleeve blue silk blouse. Maybe that will pique his interest. She re-crossed her legs. Okay, what's next?
She spied him again as she ran her fingers through her long black hair. She shook her head. Ebony tresses framed her delicate face and trailed down her back. She grabbed her hair at the ends and made a twist and set it high on the top of her head. Jasmine reached in her purse and found a clamp for her hair, and secured it.
***
Chapter Two
They inched through the London traffic. The cab crept across the Tower Bridge and up Oxford Street. They passed Great George Street. To her left, the sun perched on the horizon like a sparkling polished shilling. It reflected off the cement sidewalks and intensified the heat inside the car.
"How long have you been in England?" His voice sent shivers through her body. I love his accent.
"Fourteen years," he said.
The sound of his voice meshed with her fantasy of a mystery lover. The man in her dreams that put his mouth on her clitoris. The one who stroked her breast and licked her nipples. That is as far as her fantasy proceeded...as far as her imagination took her. The more she visualized him, the more it convinced her that Alfredo came to her in her dreams. He came to her in her dreams? Ridiculous.
Here in Europe she did not need to concern herself with some boy who might talk about her and ruin her reputation, thus invoking the moral turpitude clause. I refused to be a sperm vessel for some post-adolescent male.
America pretended it was growing out of its provincial attitudes, but it still harbored puritan values and Victorian mores about the place of women, and stereotypical nonsense and downright bigotry about any minority. The hypocrites and their attitudes annoyed her. Another eight years-plus of hard work before she finished all her medical studies. No, I'm not going to be a thirty year-old virgin.
They continued northwest out of London, followed the M54 motorway, and veered off east to Leicester.
"I know it is a little out of the way," said Jasmine. "But, I want to see the castle and the home of Lady Jane Grey."
"Why?" asked Alfredo.
"I'm very much into history and museums. I want to visit Rockingham Castle." said Jasmine. They lunched at a restaurant that overlooked the river.
"I want to see all the things I've read about. I have a curious nature." Jasmine smiled at Alfredo. "Next I want to go to Nottingham. I love Robin Hood, even if most people say he is just a legend. Some say he was actually born here in Leicester or in Leicestershire."
"So you spend your energy in books and museums instead of experiencing life.
"No, I do volunteer. I took a Humanities class as one of my electives and learned of opportunities to help six weeks each summer as a volunteer teaching English in different countries."
Alfredo led Jasmine back to the car. "I fancy Robin Hood, too." He smiled. "Thank you for lunch," he said.
"De nada." Jasmine smiled back.
Their journey to Nottingham and through the Sherwood Forest National Reserve excited Jasmine. She imagined the giant pines may have sheltered so many of the merry men. The forest leaves gave forth the sweet smell of pine and whispered a melody to the noon day sky. Jasmine listened to the birds that hid in the arboreal splendor. A common lizard slithered into a hollow log. A Fallow Deer crept from his hidden spot and blended with the tree trunks. Jasmine threw her head back and twirled around like a five year old as she focused on the top of the trees.
They visited a twelfth-century Cistercian abbey. "I think this is where Friar Tuck came from," said Jasmine. Alfredo held Jasmine's elbow and guided her through the exhibit. The cool damp air of the forest belied the heat of the day.
They started back to the hack and settled in for the ride. Their next stop, Liverpool. She could not wait to visit the home of the Beatles. Alfredo helped her to follow the steps of the Beatles. He led her to Albert Dock and then to Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields. Once back in the car, Alfredo turned northeast and back toward Manchester. They sang Beatles' tunes and laugh at their harmony or lack thereof... .
"I'm hot," Jasmine said. "Can you turn on the air?"
"Sorry, Miss, it is not working." He continued their exodus but drove the taxi off the main highway and down a side lane. A slight tension enveloped her stomach.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"To get you a cool drink." He pulled up to a roadside restaurant. He exited the car and swaggered to the counter. His tight butt rippled when he walked. Mmm...He moves like a fighter or a hunter...on his toes.
He returned with two Lemon Seltzers.
"Oh, thank you," she said. "Are you this kind to all your passengers?"
"Only to beautiful young women." He winked at her.
***
Chapter Three
Alfredo opened all four doors of the car. He sat on the passenger side of the front seat, His back to the interior and his feet on the ground.
She took the frosty concoction and ran the cold bottle across her neck and the exposed skin above her chest.
"I don't want to make you too late," he said. "But if you want to cool off, we can take a walk down to the lake."
"Well, for a little while, I guess. But we need to call the hotel. "
Alfredo grabbed his car phone and dialed the number. He handed her the phone. Jasmine gave the hotel her name...and the number of her taxi, plus Alfredo's name...just in case. They promised to hold her reservation, and she authorized an additional charge, equal to another night, on the credit card she used for the reservation.
