5 comments/ 154936 views/ 10 favorites 1994: Our Sexy Honeymoon By: gggsss1962 Our Wedding was a stressful event. I know, almost all weddings are, but ours was more than most. First of all, taking it place in Piedmont while we were living next to Milan, my parents were more or less in charge. You can imagine the problems, when the mother takes the lead... Second, I was a Catholic marrying a non-Catholic in Italy. It isn't as you think, it's NOT that it is strongly disapproved or anything; it's just something still extremely rare. Officials, both religious and administrative, have no clue how to handle it. We ended up getting married at the Town Hall, just because the priest needed more documents we could provide him with, since many had to be found either in Holland or in France. He wasn't trying to discourage us: he was truly in shit with his bishop. Then, of course, Karin was stressed herself. She sensed my mother's reproach about all those problems, and felt sorry for me, then felt inadequate, and then... ...She got a crisis, and I spotted her on the verge on doing something very stupid which involved white powder. Fuck that. Well, anyway. We managed. The ceremony, as organized by my parents, was perfect. We had a long evening party at our favourite restaurant on the river banks, and Karin was beautiful in her creamy-white dress. Somebody wasn't happy about Ysa being there too, actually dressed up with a cute ribbon bow, but we wanted ALL our best friends, and Ysa listed quite high on our list. We ended up sleeping (yes, sleeping... No first night story, I'm sorry. When we hit bed, we were devastated) in the hotel where Karin and her family had slept the last two nights. The day after, we left for our honeymoon. *** Karin wasn't in her best shape when we left. The stress of the last days hit her more than I thought. Thinking of it today, I should have expected it: after all, until that moment it had just been a thought... Now she was really married to me. It wasn't a dream; her life had really changed so much! Just a year earlier she was just having a nice sexy flirt in Portovenere, with a former client of hers who just turned out to be a nice guy... Eighteen months earlier, she had just being waiting for the overdose that would take her away forever. Of course she was stressed! We drove to France just with a small igloo tent, after leaving poor Ysa in the best pension we knew. I wasn't so mad about France. People from Piedmont have been at war against continuously-invading French for almost five hundred years in a raw, until the demise of Napoleon. After that we tried to get along for pure decency, but we never really trusted our cousins. Maybe because we are quite alike. Or maybe because we both got bad experiences from each other. People from Northern Europe, on the contrary, live in the cult of France: culture, cuisine, even language... Their inherited nemesis having always being the Germans. Karin made no difference, and felt compelled to show me wrong. In a way, she managed. France is beautiful, and you don't need to go to Paris to discover it. France is not Paris, just like Italy is not Naples and USA isn't NY. Now I love France... And I try to live with the French. One of the reasons why I wasn't mad to go to France, anyway, was the pure fact that Karin wanted to go there. You know, she had been married there. *** She had been in Provence the first time at 19, just after graduating at the high school, and she fell in love with life there. She also fucked a number of boys there, and when one of them offered her to get married, she was fast to say yes... Just for the sake of staying there. Jacques family was living in Valbonne, a dream village not far inland from Cannes, were in the early eighties there weren't too many tourists yet and which as a consequence wasn't that spoiled yet. They opened a bar and started their life as an ordinary southern French couple. Karin being Karin, she never really intended her marriage to be something specifically binding: it was a tool to stay where she wanted to stay. Her husband on the other hand, wasn't the kind of guy most mothers hope their daughter to marry: he had friends which had good reasons to stay away from Gendarmerie, and was a gambler. Two sharks married to each other can make very good friends or very bad enemies; very seldom they remain a faithful couple. Jacques started quite soon to loose the money there were earning with the bar; Karin became Miss Valbonne the very first time she took part to the context, and as such, got not only scores of clients for the bar, but also scores of admirers. Soon enough, she started fucking a few of them while Jacques was out gambling. One of them, a certain Henri, turned out to have the biggest cock Karin had ever seen, which at the time still meant quite a lot to her. She dropped the other lovers, and kept him as a fixed one, taking him at home to fuck each other stupid in her husband's bed each and every time he slipped out. Valbonne wasn't Amsterdam. In a matter of weeks, the whole village knew Jacques was a cuckold. In a matter of months, Jacques knew it himself. A night in which he was supposed to get out to play he came back early instead, and surprised Henri ploughing his monster on his own bed into his wife's blond pussy. Jacques got pissed, and called Karin a whore. Karin got pissed getting insulted, and called him a cuckold; her hubbie then slapped her in full face. Henri was more pissed than them all for getting ignored and having his fuck session spoiled, and being much bigger than the landowner just kicked Jacques' ass out of his own home. Not a good idea. Jacques came back an hour later with his friends, all of them provided with sticks, bats and knives. Karin and Henri barely escaped in the night, got a lift to Vance and there took a train to Amsterdam. Due to tax reasons, Karin had constantly kept her money in Holland, including her own revenues from the bar, and when they arrived they had enough to live. They got a small flat, and Karin quickly found herself a job as a dance teacher. Jacques friends came as far as Amsterdam to take Karin back to her scorned husband, found Henri at home and gave him a beating. The neighbours warned Karin before she came home, and just called the police. The three Frenchmen got arrested and sent back to France, and Karin got a quick divorce. After that, Karin maintained Henri at home as her own personal stud for a while (he didn't speak English, not to mention Dutch, and made no effort to find a job of sort). They went often to France to see mutual friends both in Nice and in Guyenne. In summer, Karin also worked at the Opera de Nice as a ballerina - and even at Lido in Paris for a while - still out of love for France. This continued until summer '85, when she got tired of maintaining a lazy bastard just for the sake of the size of his cock, and dumped him in Nice before going back to Amsterdam for good. *** So, that was Karin's French Connection. I could understand she wanted to close that chapter of her life, but the pure idea to go back for our honeymoon to the place she had been married the first time sounded a bit odd to me. Anyway: I loved her, and I thought our relationship was far too strong to be worried. I proved right. It was strange to discover she knew the road so well, considering she wasn't driving at all. But of course, she had been around a lot, both with her friends and with her lovers. We left the highway from Italy at Cannes, and then drove north to Grasse, and then we turned to Valbonne, where we arrived at dusk. It was a small, but extremely cute spot, basically a village built around a small square, on which lay both the only two restaurants and Karin's old small bar. We found there also a small, cheap and extremely characteristic hotel. I couldn't believe how cheap it was, being straight in the centre of such a tourist location, until I realised the furniture were back from the thirties... Including the bed springs and sheets. It was very romantic, and also a bit noisy. There was kind of a music performance in the square, which meant barely thirty metres from our bedroom, and due to French habits the crowd wasn't to be expected to dissipate before late at night. We gave up going to rest after settling down, and decided to hang around for a while. I had to admit I liked the place. It was cosy and sweet, absolutely clean and full with nice spots and viewpoints. I wasn't sad Karin wanted to show it to me the first night of our honeymoon. We got a drink and a salad in what used to be her own bar (centuries ago, she said), and then we went back to the hotel. It was almost 11 pm, but the night was still young in Valbonne, and there was far more crowd in the streets than when we had left our room. So we went exploring inside the hotel, which Karin knew to be very old. Next to our room, there was a corridor with no rooms, which walls were covered by thick velvet curtains. We got curious and lifted them to see behind. It turned out there was a small glass door adjoining a small balcony straight over the main pedestrian street: the heavy curtain was supposed to keep both draft and noise from the hotel corridors. From the balcony, we had a beautiful view both of the street and of the square, we enjoyed nice fresh air after the heat of the day, and we were in the darkest shadow, so people from down in the road could not see us even if we were right over their heads. Again, it was very romantic, and we took advantage, holding and kissing each other like the newlywed we were. Karin's tongue played magic into my mouth, and in no time I was horny as a teenager. My hands started roaming over her body, looking for the parts her skimpy dress wasn't hiding enough. One lifted her skirt until was holding her tight buttock, the other got easily hold of a soft breast and went ahead playing with the quickly hardening nipple. "Hmmm..." my bride moaned inside my mouth, and I knew she was on for a hot quickie. My mouth moved to her erected nipple and started suckling fondly, while my lower hand went from back to front to explore her crotch. Her knickers were damp. "Oohhh..." she moaned, "Don't tease me. Fuck me! Oh fuck me, please..." Never disappoint the bride. My fingers played for a second with the clammy tissue covering her cunt, then moved it to the side and started searching amongst her pussy hair for the dripping slit. Her labia opened up at the first pressure, and my middle finger slipped in quite easily. "Uuhhh! Oh, yesss..." I started quietly finger-fucking her, causing her excited body to squirm and shake. I was still sucking her nipple, and her head was wavering, the long hair flagging the cooling night air. It was Karin who stopped the foreplay, pulling free of my teasing hands and turning her shoulders to me. "Take me, now!" she ordered, firmly. She bent down, holding on the balcony side fence and offering me her gorgeous butt. I opened my fly, lifted her dress over the ass cheeks and moved her knickers to the side, uncovering her very ready opening. We were trained enough by then, and I didn't need to aim the main armament to the target: I just held her hips and the spear hit right home. "Aawww..." Karin howled as my cock slowly sank into her warm and soggy pussy channel. There wasn't much space, the balcony being little more than a classic French window: My wife was holding herself on the iron at the right side of it, and my ass was bumping back against the one on its left; on one side we had the open window door and the curtains adjoining back to the corridor, and on the other we had the fence and Valbonne nightlife beyond it, with its lights and sounds. The mix of the drinks we got and the lust we achieved was combining into a blur of excitement, as I started thoroughly fucking my sexy, newly wedded wife. "Oh! Oh yes... Yesss! Do me... Do me like that. I like it... I like it... Oohhh..." Karin was truly horny, more or less oblivious of our precarious and exposed position, and her moans started getting louder and louder. I wasn't worried, since the noise from the street was so loud the chance of anybody to hear her from downstairs was really low; of course, should somebody look up to our balcony, they could probably see something even through the shadow, but who looks up at night in a crowded street? I reached for her naked right breast and grabbed it, squeezing it fondly. "Aahhh!" Karin yelled in pleasure, tossing her head to the window to try to watch at me. That very second, the curtain swung open just in front of her, and a man appeared. He froze, startled at what he saw. He was a guy our age, maybe slightly older, with a dark jacket over a white T-shirt and slacks, who probably heard Karin's moans, or maybe he was just curious as we were about the corridor curtain... Who cares? I never really looked at his face, since I was busy fucking the shit out of my wife, but she had him right in front of her turned face. "Wow!" Karin smiled, incoherently adding in Italian, "Scusi?" She didn't wait to hear an answer to her pardon plea... Her free right hand went straight to his groin to check the guy's bulge, and in a blur I saw her starting opening his fly with firm, experienced movements. The guy said nothing. He stayed frozen in the door frame as Karin opened his trousers and got hold of his quickly swelling cock, and I just kept on fucking her, curious to see what was going to happen next. Unsurprisingly, Karin started stroking the new cock and in a few seconds was holding a fully erected penis, ready for use. "Hmmmph..." she muttered, gobbling it into her mouth. The man hissed and groaned his appreciation at my wife oral ministration, and positioned himself for enjoying the unexpected entertainment. Karin's position wasn't the most comfortable one, since she was basically blowing the guy on her right side while I was still fucking her from behind, so she wasn't on for a long event. Rather, it was a wild one. In a moment, our uninvited guest started groaning loud and breathing fast, clearly taken aback by the violence of Karin's oral assault. Her hand was pumping and stroking really fast, and her gorge was sucking recklessly and noisily, and I could imagine the feeling of vacuum the guy had to suffer in his groin. I slew down my assault on Karin's cunt, since I wanted to witness my wife blowjob to its end before taking her to the peak, and I was myself not going to last too long. Karin was merciless: the visibly man tried to hold it back, but there was no resisting her fierce blowjob. I saw him tense, stiff, and jerk his head, as his semen was brutally taken out of him. I view my wife's throat working hard exacting the sperm out of the guy's testicles and swallowing directly into her stomach for a few, long and wild seconds, until the guy jerked of almost painfully, and stepped back. Karin smiled coyly, just a thin trickle of cum oozing out of her lips. The man shook her head in disbelief, and disappeared back behind the curtain. I drove hard into Karin's body, causing her to bump ahead and grind against the fence, and she straightened her position to face my assault. "Oh my God!" she gasped only, while I pounded her mercilessly, "Oh my God... Oh my... Oh my... Oh my Gaaaawwd!!!" I wasn't sure she was cumming too, even though she was twisting and shacking quite wildly at the rhythm of her own shrieks. I could not hold it any more, and she got her extra fun already: I felt my head and balls explode quite at unison, and held her tight by her jerking hips, to shoot home my hot, sticky cumload. I breathed heavily, drinking the fresh night air, as I finished emptying myself into my wife's still bumping belly. Karin raised her head to smile at me, mockingly showing her tongue all dirty with the guy's cum. Then she swallowed it all. *** The morning after, we met our unknown friend at breakfast. He was a little bit older than we thought, in his mid-forties, and was eating together with his wife. Karin sat at our table in a way to watch at him and smiled, winking naughtily. When we left and they were still eating, she winked again, and showed him her tongue. The poor guy was so embarrassed, I had to run out to avoid laughing... When we had dinner the day before, Karin couldn't help asking about Jacques; but nobody knew anything about him. I didn't think she wanted to see him... Not for the sake of seeing him at least. But I could understand she wanted to close that chapter of her life. So I wasn't surprised when she told me she wanted to see Fayance. Fayance is another small town in Provence, as characteristic as Valbonne, about thirty kilometres west of it. It was Jacques' birthplace, and the spot where his family lived. His mother owned a restaurant there, and Karin felt like going and say hello to her mother, who actually used to be quite sweet to her. It was okay for me, considering we had all the time, and I did know nothing about Provence. Again, it was a beautiful – not to mention hot – day of July, and Karin wore another one of her very small dresses. Maybe she also wanted to remind her former husband what he lost, but hey, it was me the one who was enjoying the view, so I didn't complain. The restaurant was still where Karin remembered it was; we parked next to it, and walked in front of it, but she didn't want to enter. "I want to show you something first," she told me. We walked uphill for a while. Valbonne is in a valley, while Fayance lay on top of a hill. There used to be a castle on top of it, but there were only a few remnants now. The most interesting spot was the foundation of a tower, which had been partly restructured into a very nice viewpoint. It was the top of the hill, and you could enjoy a magnificent view of all the surroundings, like from a mountain; it was one of those rounded places where, on the rim of the fence, there were inscriptions showing all the landmarks you could see, with their names and brief descriptions. Even if it was basically the most interesting spot of the town, it was deserted. It was almost midday, and extremely hot: all tourists were downtown, looking for a fresh spot where to have a meal. That is, all tourists except for us. We admired the beautiful landscape of Provence: from there, you could see as far as to the Mediterranean. It was hot, but also a bit windy, which helped resisting the heat. "It's wonderful..." I admitted. Karin smiled: "I was sure you'd like it. As far as I know, this is the best viewpoint in the whole of Provence." I put an arm across her shoulders and pulled her to me. I felt the softness of her skin; her scent filled my nostrils with the power of an aphrodisiac. She smiled and held me back, making it clear she was ready and available. We kissed, and she grinded her naked thigh against my groin, to feel my growing erection. My fingers felt her hard nipples through the thin tissue of her dress. I had a look around: nobody; and I could see quite far away. I fell on my knees, and pushed my face against her bare legs, kissing the smoothness of her inner thighs. Karin parted her legs as much as it was needed, and I started kissing my way up on her naked skin, lifting the elastic hem of the skirt. Her scent grew stronger, and more arousing. She wore no knickers: my nose found the rebel curls of her sparse pussy hair, and a second later my tongue found the opening between her labia. Karin shivered as my tongue made its way into her wet slit. "Uhnnngg... Go on, there is nobody around... Oohhh..." My hands started moving along her thighs as I started slowly eating her pussy. I loved liking my wife's pussy, and she loved me doing it. After quite a training, we had gotten good enough that I managed to make her come almost on order. Karin held herself to the low wall of the tower and raised one leg until her foot rested on it, in order to allow me maximum access to her most intimate parts. 1994: Our Sexy Honeymoon I was basically tongue-fucking her, eating her juices and playing her clit with my spare hand while I caressed her asscheeks and legs with the other. "Aahhh..." she moaned in delight, "Oh yes, eat me. I love it... Yes. Yesss... I'm coming... I'm coming... Aahhh!" I ate her cum with gusto, while she was shaking over me and her hand tried to push my head into her sloppy cunt. I rose on my feet, my tongue hurting for the prolonged effort, and she smiled happily, her eyes sparkling for the recent orgasm. "Take me, now..." she hissed lustfully. Karin turned her shoulders to me and placed her elbows on the wall, opening her legs and pushing behind her sexy bum. I lifted again the hem of her skimpy dress around her waist, and aimed my cock to the main target. The wind was waving her hair like a beautiful golden flag, and her eyes were shooting blue lightning at me from her pretty, tanned face as she smiled to me. I eased my cock into her sopping cunt, and Karin let go a satisfied groan of pure lust. I grabbed her by the hips, and started fucking thoroughly into her hungry belly. It was another measure of her ability as a dancer, the fact that she was capable to bend her legs so easily to level her entrance to my groin: her legs were so much longer than mine, that it would be impossible for me to take her in a standing position if she wasn't capable to do that. I screwed her in the tower for at least half an hour, in the loneliness of the sunny Provencal noon, before she finally erupted in another powerful orgasm. I was going to let go myself, but Karin stopped me with the most unexpected of questions. "Wait..." she panted breathlessly: "Do my ass, now!" Damnit, I had no lube, nor anything to prepare her... I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it was a fucking exciting one, and anyway, you always oblige the lady, so... I let go of her, and bent on her upturned ass crack to kiss and lick her small hole. I passed a hand between her legs caressing her freshly fucked cunt and moved as much pussy juice as I could to her sphincter, where I mixed it with my spit and smeared it all around the rim and into the hole using the tip of my aching tongue. "Hmmm..." she moaned excitedly: "Come on, fuck my ass... Now!" I spat again, both on her puckered asshole and on my cockhead, and then I placed it on my wife's rear-entry, ready to fuck my way into her. I hesitated a moment longer, worried to hurt her, but Karin yelled at me, urging me to do her anally. I pushed, hard and slowly; the ass crack was coated by a thin layer of sweat due to the heat and to her recent exertion, and quite surprisingly, the mix of juices made up for enough lube, since my spearhead slowly sank between the girl's buttocks and into her hole. "Aawww..." Karin panted, this time in pain: "Fuck it hurts... But it hurts nicely! Ouch... No, don't stop. Hold on a second... Hmmm... Yes, there you are. Yes... Yes! Yes, fuck me. Fuck me, now!" I felt my cockhead slip over the second sphincter, and as for magic I was all into her boiling rectum. I held her naked buttocks, and pulled halfway out before slowly pushing back into her. "Ah! Aahhh... Oh, yes! Yes, fuck me. Fuck me! Ah! Ah! Ah! Aahhh..." I gave a quick glance to the surroundings: Karin was getting pretty loud by then, and getting arrested for obscenity by French police wasn't my idea of honeymoon, but there was still nobody around. I slammed back into Karin's ass. "Auch!" she screamed. "You wanted it in the ass?" I teased: "Take it! Take it all, like the bitch you are..." "Oh yes! Yes! Oh, I'm such a bitch... Such a nasty fucking bitch... Fuck me. Fuck my ass... Oh yeah. Yeah... Hmmm... Oh! Ah! Ah! AH! Aahhh..." I slammed my wife's ass with all what I was worth, all restraints gone by now, flashed by her luscious and horny screams. I felt my shaft was pumping into a burning, twitching hole, greased just enough to allow my forbidden taking of my naughty, pretty lady. Not much energy left inside me, I accelerated the fucking tempo feeling my testicles twitch and boil on the verge of a powerful explosion. "Oh yeah," Karin panted, sensing my impending release, "Yeah... Yeah... Yeaaaaahhhhhh!!!" I ejaculated deep into her belly, flooding her rectum with my full load of hot, sticky sperm. My legs were shacking dangerously, and I was ready to collapse on her back exhausted, when Karin shocked me once more. She pulled free of me; almost ripped my poor spent penis out of her abused asshole and fell on her knees in front of me. I watched at her in full astonishment, as she got hold of my still undeflated cock and hesitated a second. Karin winched at the smell, and then she licked my tip clean of the last drops of cum. I held myself to the wall to avoid ruining on top of her, and a second later my sweet lady opened her mouth and got my cockhead all into her mouth. I couldn't believe it: Karin was sucking my cock clean just after I corn holed her! Her nasty meal didn't last long, but she managed to milk some more cum out of my spent balls, almost causing me to fall on the floor by the surprise and the power of the release. "Oh my God..." I panted, bucking against the wall and trying hard to regain my breath. Karin stayed on her knees, smiling naughtily at me and furbishing her mouth with her fingers. Sill inspiring hard and shacking badly, I reached for my pocket, and hastily got hold of a handkerchief. I used it to clean her lips as best as I could; then I had her back on her feet, and cleaned her gaping asshole of the cum that was slowly leaking out of it. Finally, I used it to roughly clean my limp dick of the last remnants from our unholy coupling. Then I threw it in the small disposal bin of the tower. I was exhausted, totally spent. Karin looked in great shape, the nasty light in her eyes just enhanced by the obscenity of what she just did. "Okay, now I'm ready," she stated: "Let's go to the restaurant." We walked down in the sun to our car. I asked weather she wanted to clean herself using a wet towel from our survival kit, but she weaved me off. Without any hesitation, she walked into her former mother restaurant. When I followed her in, I realised it was still a bit early, since there were no client sitting at the tables. Rather, there was a dyed lady in her mid-fifties moving in front of the counter, while a young man and a girl were finishing laying the buffet table. The lady recognised Karin at first sight: she opened her mouth silently for a second, and then started talking in French far too fast for me to follow, and opened her arms to her. Startled, I saw Karin embracing her and kissing her briefly on her cheeks, and then the two started chatting very quickly, ignoring anybody else. I approached slowly, readying up to shift to my basic French, and so did the other man. Karin tossed towards us, and smiled openly. "Hello Jacques," she said: "Comment ca va?" I hadn't recognised him at all: he absolutely didn't look like the guy in the pictures I saw at home. He looked somehow younger and a bit fatter... And definitely awkward. And then, for the last time that day, Karin stunned me. She stepped forward to her former husband, held him by the shoulders and placed an open-mouthed kiss straight on his shaking lips. I felt jealousy and rage surging from the depths of my stomach, readying to burst out of my own mouth... Then it suddenly freeze in my throat, all of it, and I couldn't help but smile. It just occurred to me that the tongue she had planted in his mouth was still sticky from what she licked out of my cock fresh from her asshole. Jacques must have sensed something was wrong, because he winched and jerked a bit as Karin kissed him in mock love, but again it was her who pulled out with a cruel smile. She said something about being happy to find him sound and happy helping his mum as a waiter in her restaurant, and then turned to the lady and basically ignored him. Just like you do when you talk to the local boss and discard his hand. Karin introduced me to the lady as her husband, and we shook hands. After a short hesitation, I chose to do the same with poor Jacques, who was wrinkling his nose uncomfortably. I said a few banalities to the lady just in order to take part to the brief, uncomfortable conversation which followed in French, but I didn't need to make too much an effort: In a matter of minutes we were out and walking to the car. I asked weather it wasn't a better idea to look for a place (maybe a few streets further away) to have lunch, but she smiled happily: "No. I want them to see our car. Jacques always liked nice big cars, and now he could never afford one like yours!" Boys, I hope never to be the target of Karin's wrath! *** The day after we drove west to leave Provence, and we stopped at Pont-du-Garde. It is a beautiful spot, where an ancient Roman acqueduct stands still over the river as proud as it was two thousands years ago. We walked all the way along it, and then we went back going first downhill and then uphill. It was great fun for me, mad for history as I am (and she knew that), but I realised Karin was uncomfortable. The poor girl was breathless, and she hated it. She complained that once, when she was in shape, she would walk uphill faster than me and without breathing hard. Now, after all the shit she had being through... She cried. She cried long, and I held her tight, welcoming her release. All the tension of the wedding, all the recognition of her new life, all the ordeal of going through her bad former life, everything solidified into hot, bitter tears. Oh, Karin, I thought. My sweet, little fallen angel... She wasn't alone anymore; and she knew it. That night, in a small hostel near Arles, we didn't make love. We just held each other for a long, long time, feeling each other's love. *** Carcassonne and its beautiful fortified citadel. Toulouse, the capital of French Midi. Bordeaux, the city of wine. And on top of all, Brittany, the place where we stayed the longest. Our honeymoon covered all those parts of France where you always want to go and you never make it due to lack of time since you want to see Paris first... Forget Paris, and forget Provence too: go to Brittany. It is really beautiful, wild nature meets history in the most romantic way. The wildest coasts of Europe, the pre-historical sites, the Merlin and Arthur forests, the middle-age castles, the crepes and the cider... We stayed two wonderful weeks in Brittany, and didn't regret. The people too were so nice and friendly, and the tourists... Well, it was nice to see there are French too, in France! Americans and Japanese, Italians and Dutch ended at Carnac; from that point on, there were only locals and a few French only. Wonderful! The food was fantastic. The real crepes are something that can't really be eaten anywhere else than in Brittany. When you eat them together with a good glass of cider, you can hear the angels singing... Well, having a girl like Karin next to you helps a lot. Did you ever make love inside a Dolmen? It is so intriguing, doing it inside a men-made construction which is more than 5000 years old, made up by megaliths and partly underground. A place where so many generations have been moving around, loving and dying... Okay, maybe it was also a bit exhibitionist, considering there were also other tourists around and somebody could easily fall on us with our slacks down and going at it like rabbits. But, hey! I was there with Karin, and she was so damned sexy in her denim shorts! She was getting better and better every day. Good food, lots of walking, swimming and lovemaking, and most of all, lots of pure, unconditioned love were making what psychologists and doctors couldn't do for years. Karin was slowly getting to believe in it: her life did change for good, and for the best. When we moved on, it was towards the Loire valley and its castles. Chinon, Amboise, Blois, Chambord, Bourges... We made our way back towards the Alps and Italy until we reached the Mont Blanc tunnel and our last stop on the bottom of Miage Glacier. We were now in my own territory: Vallée d'Aoste, just at the feet of the highest mountain in Europe; the north-westernmost corner of Italy. The mountains of my childhood. There, Karin climbed a mountain with me. We hiked for almost 2000 metres, admired the view, had a bite and walked back downhill. We had dinner and went to our tent, where we made love. After making love, I asked her weather she was tired. She smiled and as an answer, she tried to fuck me again. Since I could not make it anymore, she did me with her mouth. Before falling asleep, I reminded her of her desperate tears at Pont-du-Garde for being so week. She cried again, this time with joy. My sweet fallen angel had gotten back her wings.