Sandy's friend did not tell her about another episode during his trip to Europe, although it is related here as though he did. A girlfriend doesn't have to know everything!
After bidding farewell to Marga and Greeta in Cologne, Rick and I took the next train that would connect to one to Venice. We had foregone going on from Florence to Rome to stay with them, not that we could explain to some people why we had. But with our Eurail tickets, it was no problem to return south. The next day, we found the campsite at Venice and pitched our tent, joking about the fact that we hadn't shared it since meeting Greeta and Marga.
We were surprised to see a large bus at the campsite with "Sundowners" along its side, and soon discovered at the bar that it belonged to a somewhat loud group travelling from London to Calcutta, mostly Australians and New Zealanders, with a couple of English young people. We learned that from a couple of girls from the group who seemed more interested in talking to us than to sticking with group.
"We'll be with them for the next seven weeks," Pat explained, after she had introduced herself and the other girl as "Trish," adding:
"Yeah, we're both named Patricia."
They were a couple of years older than us, but didn't seem to mind. When they asked where we had been, we mentioned that we had just come from Cologne, but had been in Florence before that, originally planning to go on to Rome and then Venice. Of course, they wondered about our change of plan. Rick explained that we had met a couple of Dutch girls.
"Oh, ... like that?" Pat remarked with suggestive smile.
"Yeah, maybe," I replied, returning her smile, and they both seemed to like that, Trish remarking:
"Our good luck, or you probably would have been here earlier."
Rick and I agreed to that, and after a couple of more beers, we agreed to have dinner together. They thought that they should clean up first, and we did, too, exchanging nods when we happened to meet at the showers. Then we met again and had dinner, and they didn't object to our offer to pay for theirs. We learned that they had both been in England for two years, now returning to Australia, that the bus trip and flight from Calcutta would be cheaper than flying from London and obviously more interesting. They explained that they shared a tent with two other girls: Jean, also from Australia, and Mary from England. They turned the conversation to the social situation in their group and what they thought about the men: some nice, some less so, and apparently all of them looking for some "action." They didn't seem to object to their doing so, just to some of their too plump attempts, and to the problems pairing off within the group could lead to. Jean had come to Europe with a similar group and warned them about that.
Rick and I showed our understanding, even venturing to suggest that it could be easier when everyone knew when the party was over. We already knew that they were staying for three nights. They seemed to like that interpretation, glancing at each other before Pat suggested:
"Like with the Dutch girls?"
"Um-hmm," I agreed: "a pretty extended party," and we all snorted, not quite smirking, but it was clear that we all understood what we were talking about.
And more clear when at the end of the meal they asked where our tent was, luckily a bit away from those of their group. Of course, we offered to show them, and they didn't seem surprised when we bought a bottle of wine, another big one, implying that we continue the party - or maybe let it start.
As we were about to leave, they stopped and glanced around, and then waved to someone. We didn't see whom - probably Jean or Mary - but understood that they wanted to let one of them know that they were with us. So off we went and were soon settled with the opened bottle in front of our tent.
The first remark by Trish was that our tent was rather small, but that suggested that she had more than just a passing interest in it, and Pat picked up on her comment by pointedly asking:
"With the Dutch girls?"
Trish seemed to find that a bit too forward; it was really too dark to see her expression, but she also snickered when I replied:
"Just one of them, I was always in theirs."
That sort of broke the ice. As the bottled passed, they were more forward than Geerta and Marga had been, Pat showing a preference for Rick, and Trish fondling my fingers when we passed the bottle and then following Pat's lead by putting her hand on my leg. So pretty soon we had an arm around each of them, and were all helping guide the bottle to our partner's lips. Before it was empty, someone put it aside, and we were kissing, and they weren't minding where we put our hands, and after a bit we certainly weren't minding where they put theirs.
Well, it was pretty obvious - very obvious - that no one wanted the party to stop, but someone had to suggest that, and how. Pat did:
"We ought to go to the loo first."
That said it, especially the "first".
With some chuckles of agreement, we got up and went hand-in-hand to the toilets. On the way, Trish asked softly:
"All of us in your tent?"
"Um-hmm, plenty of space if we stick close together," I replied, getting snickers of agreement.
Back at the tent, Rick volunteered to make up our bed, since he had more experience, while the girls and I took off our shoes. When he joined us again, we passed the bottle around, snorting softly in anticipation.
"All four of us," Trish murmured softly, adding:
"I never did this before."
"Not in such close quarters," Pat remarked, apparently about her own experience, nodding with a smirk when we looked at her, and then explained:
"Once at college, there were three couples in corners of the darkened common room."
We all snickered and passed the bottle around again. Then with a nod towards the tent, Pat snorted and stood up and started to take of her long pants. Trish snorted and did the same, and, of course, Rick and I did, too, a little surprised, but it was the most practical way, especially as crowded as it would be in the tent. While she rolled up her pants, Pat glanced around in the dark and saw that no one could see us. We all put our trousers inside the tent, and then with another glance around she took off her shirt, so we did too, and then in just our underwear crept into the tent with some snickers, and more as they took off their bras, and we all lay down.
"Funny," Trish murmured, lying with Pat between Rick and me, and then we were back to kissing and fondling, soon with our hands inside each other's underpants, and removing them. When I murmured: "We've got some," Pat understood that I meant rubbers and replied:
"Don't need them, pill." Trish nodded with a snort.
But I wanted to suck her breasts first - first, before I showed her what I had learned with Geerta. She liked that, of course, and Rick seemed to be doing the same, from Pat's encouraging moans and sighs. Then it was evident that she was encouraging him to move his head further down - and to turn around. Trish didn't mind when I started to move further, but when she recognized that Rick was beginning to straddle Pat, she whispered in surprise:
"Are you going to, too?"
"Um-hmmm!" Pat replied emphatically.
"All the way? ... I never have."
"Um-hmm."
"Oh," Trish responded softly.
By now, I was crouched next to her and nuzzling in her pubic hairs and murmured:
"You don't have to, ... at all, ... if you don't want to."
She didn't reply, but opened her thighs. As I began to explore deeper between them, I felt her hand urging me to move my legs back, so I did, of course. When I was lying next to her, her hand found my cock as she rolled toward me, raising her thigh invitingly.
Ummm, nice pussy! And she was fondling my cock and balls with both hands, and then her lips slipped around the head of my cock. Oooh! At least she wanted to do that much, and it felt like she liked to do it, had experience, but I had thought that Geerta had. Oh, yes, Trish did have experience; she had said that she had just never gone "all the way." Did she want to now? She could decide that. If she had experience, she would know when to stop - if she wanted to. But now I wanted to enjoy her nice pussy, clutching her hips and eating her like a big watermelon, a juicy, not so sweet watermelon, and one that seemed to enjoy being eaten, her pussy rocking to show me where it wanted to feel my tongue. And her tongue seemed to know what would feel good on my cock. "Un-hnn!" I encouraged her.
She did want to go all the way, or just couldn't stop when her aroused pussy took control, her thighs twitching as it went all wet. Whether she had wanted to or not, when I began to spurt, she didn't hesitate to continue, thank goodness - that's so good!
When we had recovered, she finally let him slip from between her lips and snorted and murmured:
"I guess I should have done that before. ... Hm-hmm! Sorry, guys."
Pat snorted with a chuckle and agreed:
"They think it is the best. ... Glad you liked it."
Rick had rolled off Pat by then, and we both replied:
"We sure do," and I added: "Thank you."
The girls both snorted, and Trish shook my now more relaxed cock and replied:
"Yeah, tastes funny, ... don't know what I expected, ... but it sure was arousing, ... to know you were coming that good."
