Fuck it. All the stone churches and gift shops could wait. It was just past the first half of their European vacation, and Evan had had it. He and Victoria had been getting along well enough. They were hitting the right spots, eating at nice restaurants, taking selfies at all the famous locations -- even a few that were not so famous. But it lacked the sparkle of adventure he had imagined when he agreed to take the trip. It was starting to feel like a drudge.
Seasoned travellers know, when that happens; you take the next few days off, and you go deep. Preferably in some sleepy little town -- one with chickens and cows. Maybe even goats; and decent coffee. It was time to get off the train, find a hotel, and dig in for the weekend.
It took some convincing on Evan's part. Under Victoria's impressive organizational regime, their schedule was truly a thing of beauty. It read like the show schedule of the Rolling Stones, like the bucket list of Atila the Hun. It was the Grand Tour on steroids. It also squashed even the slightest hint of free time or spontaneity. She was beautiful. He loved her. She had the sweetest pussy. But sometimes she just didn't know how to live.
Ultimately he convinced Victoria to give him control, just for a few days. They would get off at the next stop, whatever it was, and take their chances somewhere in the depths of Europe. Finally, a proper adventure.
The conductor seemed shocked as he watched them gather their things. Evan couldn't tell for sure, maybe these Europeans were just that way, but he thought he read some concern on the older man's unshaven face. It was probably just cultural differences. Once the car's doors opened, they stepped into a warm pleasant night of the perfect Medieval town. They didn't even know its name.
The dim stone walls towered above them in the moonlit silence as Victoria watched the lights of the train fade into the darkness.
Evan could read a town. Victoria had learned this about him on this trip, it was one of his super powers. Hefting their packs onto their backs, he led them under the massive stone arches into the narrow streets of the quaint walled city.
In the moonlight, they could see newly planted flowers gracing the windows. Fragrant garlands hung from the lampposts. Huge banners spanned the streets at intervals -- all in some mysterious language.
Victoria whispered, "I think there's going to be a parade or something."
Evan secretly hoped to himself, like the beer gardens of Munich, it included outfits that showed lots of cleavage. They could barely make out the huge letters on the banners. But it didn't matter, the language was unfamiliar to them both, and his translation app required an internet connection -- something often in short supply in walled cities.
As the streets widened, they began encountering the occasional person, surprising for such a late hour in such a sleepy little town. Everyone seemed uniformly welcoming and friendly, smiling at them as they passed.
Hoove falls on the cobblestones behind them caused them to tuck into a dark alcove, as what appeared to be a mounted garrison passed them by. They took in the vision as each rank passed, two wide. Each rider was ghoulishly silhouetted against the bright moon. Many carried a tall pike, topped with something rounded (Evan assumed they were some sort of spear tip protectors used when the force was moving among friendly civilians).
The weary riders paid them little notice, and once they had passed, the couple retook the street. It was looking more and more like a parade every minute.
After a slight turn to the left, they found themselves in the central square, where a spirited crew was completing final touches on a large pavilion. Making eye contact with one of the workers, Evan used international pantomime to secure a recommendation on suitable local lodging -- the polite worker pointing to a set of lit windows on the far side of the square.
The clean, nicely lit pensione was pretty much what both of them had pictured when they had discussed this adventure on the train.
Things were going particularly well.
A handwritten sign in the tiny lobby defeated multiple attempts at translation. With fragile confidence they decided it meant the innkeeper was asleep and that guests should take a labelled key from the basket; matters would be resolved at "the ultimate meal", which Evan imagined to refer to the first meal -- hopefully breakfast, he was getting hungry.
They found the labelled room on the third floor. It was a well sized, nicely appointed suite, facing the square. They tucked in for the night. The soft and comfortable beds in combination with the solitude of the quaint town and the weariness of their journey, lead them both to a deeply sound sleep.
A shaft of sunlight traced its way across their room until it found the couple entwined under the covers. Evan's eyes followed the feline lines of Victoria's naked body as she slipped from the sheets. His eyes lingered on her fine ass as he savored the memory of the last time he fucked her from behind. She drew wide the drapes, her sweet breasts, bouncing almost imperceptibly with her motions, were perfectly illuminated in the morning sunshine, like fruit in an artist's still life. It would make a perfect European postcard. As Evan smiled at the idea of his grandmother getting such a card in the mail, Victoria slipped back into his arms in the bed.
They watched the town waking up below them from their comfortable vantage point. Victoria noticed that the women, without exception, were all dressed quite provocatively.Though he said nothing, this same detail was not lost on Evan. The women all seemed to be radiating. What was it that they ate here? Maybe it was the water. It was all making his cock hard, which he made a point of rubbing against Victoria's soft ass. She ignored his pokes, claiming instead to be starving.
Evan and Victoria dressed and stepped out into the hall. They joined several couples just entering the elevator. As the car descended, Evan could see in the mirrored wall that one of the women wore a skirt pinned up in the front, accentuating her long legs. As his eyes followed those legs he was surprised to notice that it exposed, entirely, her naked crotch -- she had obviously forgotten a critical part of her outfit. His first reaction was to warn her of her oversight, but not before he had a chance to get a good look at her. Her lovely labia were on bold display. Discreetly rolling his eyes, he saw that indeed, the other woman in their group was showing herself as well, wearing a more familiar fashion with stockings and a racey mirrored garter.
Once the elevator doors opened, Victoria took him aside.
"Did you see that?" Victoria asked, shocked. "Those women were flouting their pussies like they were whores or something. I thought this was a nice part of town." Feigning disapproval, Evan nodded, assuring her that he would address the matter immediately with the management. He was about to suggest it might have been part of some kinky dare when three more women passed them in the hallway, each with their lovely crotches fully exposed.
Evan was dazed, it was probably more different pussies than he had ever seen in one day, and it was still early morning. He liked this town already.
After a few starts, they managed to make it clear to the innkeeper that they spoke only English. As luck would have it, his twenty year old niece, Kenra, was visiting from college and she spoke passable English. If they would be kind enough to wait, she would be better able to help them.
They had to wait for a few minutes for her to arrive, but when she did, Evan found her, and her lusciously displayed slit, stunning.
"Welcome to the city of Quim," Kenra told them. It was barely intelligible in her thick accent.
Evan shot Victoria a look, but there was no reaction. Maybe it was the accent or maybe Victoria was tired -- she didn't seem to get it.
Their translator went on to explain, with frequent gesticulations to her own prominently displayed, and mouth wateringly beautiful Evan thought, cleft, that they were visiting at an especially auspicious time. This weekend was the famous Festival of Quim. Theirs had been the last train of the night. The drawbridge was up, the city was now closed for the weekend.
The festival celebrated pussies. Unabashedly, it seemed to Victoria, who immediately wanted to leave. If they hurried, they could return to the safety of their previously scheduled itinerary.
"There must be a way to escape."
Laughing, the concierge's niece told them there was no escape, but trying was often quite fun. A specially appointed force garrisoned the town during the festival. They enforced the blockade and the rules of the festival quite strictly, she giggled. Every year, a few people intentionally attempted escapes for the sheer adventure of it.
Later, when they had gained access to the internet, Evan and Victoria would learn that the town was situated on a unique geological formation, which, like Kent in England, lent the town its name, or rather, which since ancient times had lent its name to the feminine organ we have all come to love. The ancients has long recognized the town as a sacred location, nestled in a deep valley that had been formed by the flow of a stream sourced from a mysterious cave that had never been fully explored. Its waters flowed always warm, at times hot, which had fed speculation that it's source was the planet's core.
Pointing at Victoria's crotch, Kenra's advice to Victoria was to take off her pants, and to enjoy the festival weekend, adding, with a giggle that they would not regret it. She would even lend her some scissors and thread if she wanted to try to alter her clothes.
Evan thanked Kenra as together they made their way to the dining room. Victoria was fuming. As they tried to enter the dining room, the hostess stopped them, making it clear that she would not be able to seat them if Victoria did not expose herself.
"No fucking way, I'm out of here!" And with that, Victoria bolted.
