My company sent me to Budapest for a few months. I didn’t speak Hungarian, but being unattached and knowing that a majority of the recent porn stars came from Central and Eastern Europe, I was looking forward to the trip. I arrived in late spring at Ferihegyi (the airport outside of Budapest), made my way through customs, and took a taxi to the apartment that my company had rented.
The taxi driver spoke some English, so he gave me advice on things to see while in country. As he navigated through the traffic, I kept getting distracted from the conversation by the women walking on the sidewalks. The fashion that spring seemed to be a white cotton dress which fell smoothly to just above the knee and a white thong. From the way their tits swung as they walked, it was apparent that most of the women were not wearing bras.
We reached the apartment, I unloaded my bags, paid the driver and collected his business card. After figuring out the locks on the door, I took the lift up to the second floor (three floors above the street, because Hungarians count “Ground, 1, 2,…” when numbering floors) and found my way to the apartment. The building was constructed around a central courtyard. The lift and a set of stairs were at one corner of the courtyard. Each floor had an open air walkway that ran around the courtyard and provided access to the apartments. My apartment was caddy-corner to the lift, so I had to walk halfway around the courtyard and past other people’s apartments to reach mine. Amazingly, I managed to unlock the apartment door and turn off the alarm system on the first try and without rousing the locals. That taken care of, I examined my home for the next few months.
Two bedrooms, the equivalent of two full baths (Hungarians have one room for the shower/bath and another room for the toilet with a sink in each), kitchen, dining room, and living room. Hardwood parquet floors throughout, plaster walls, somewhat older furnishings but a high speed wireless internet connection. The windows of one bedroom and the living room faced the street. The window of the other bedroom, the kitchen, and the dining room faced the courtyard. It’d do. Having found through past travels that the best way to cope with jet lag is to stay up as long as possible, I showered to remove the stink of the trip and then went out to find something to eat and drink.
The apartment building was on a street with a variety of stores, everything from a bakery (closed at this hour on a Sunday) to an electronics shop. I went into a bar, sat down, and ordered dinner and a beer. A few beers later, I’d come to the conclusion that the best one available was Leffe blond, a beer made in Belgium. Afterwards, I returned to the apartment and unpacked. As I switched through the TV channels available, the only ones in English were the BBC, the music channel, and the travel channel. Having gathered all of the news that I could stand during my journey, and not caring for the crap on the music channel, I left the travel channel on while I read. At the top of the hour the Travel channel turned to porn! Some of the scenes were in English, some were in Hungarian, most were pretty graphic. regardless of language, it made for relaxing watching prior to bed.
The next morning I got up, showered, and decided to go to the bakery for breakfast. I walked in and joined the end of the line, observing the customers in front of me closely to see if there were any peculiarities in ordering that I should follow. I couldn’t help but notice the young woman who was working the counter. Golden blond hair that fell in curls to between her shoulder blades, grey-blue eyes, a strong nose between high cheek-bones, and full lips above a well defined jaw were just the beginning. She had a dancer’s grace as she moved between the pastry case, the coffee pots, and the cash register. Her full, round breasts moved slightly beneath the white button down shirt and the globes of her ass caused her black skirt to sway as it fell to her ankles.
When my turn came, I greeted her in Hungarian, and ordered coffee and a croissant in a mixture of Hungarian, English, and gesture. She smiled at me as she got my order together and asked “British?”
“Nem, America-bul,” I replied.
She nodded and told me the pendik escort amount due in perfect English. I pulled bills from my wallet and handed them to her. She wished me a good day as she returned my change to the saucer on the counter. As a few of the other patrons had done, I left the change as a tip. She smiled again and thanked me as I turned away. I took a table that allowed me to watch both the people passing on the street outside and the girl behind the counter. It was a delight.
As I finished my breakfast, the line of customers disappeared and she began moving around the small cafe area, collecting used dishes. She stopped at my table to ask if everything was okay, “Very good,” I replied. “What is your name?” I asked.
“Kriszta,” she replied. “And yours?”
“I’m Jim,” I said. “You speak English very well.”
She smiled, “Thank you. How long will you be in Hungary?”
“A few months,” I said. We continued chatting for a few more minutes. I told her about the apartment across the street, what my company does, where in the US I’m from, etc. I did my best to pay attention to the conversation and not her proud breasts (which were just above eye level) or her spicy perfume. As she was getting back to work, she smiled and said, “I’ll see you later.” I watched her ass as she swayed to the back of the shop.
I spent the rest of the day in a haze of horniness. The women in their on the subway going to and from work, the secretary in our branch office, and the waitresses and patrons in the bar at dinner all served to tune me up to a sexual frenzy. All of them were attractive, many of them were dressed provocatively by US standards. That night, however, it was Kriszta who filled my fantasies.
Imagine my disappointment when I entered the bakery the next morning and realized that Kriszta was not the girl behind the counter! Swallowing my chagrin, I greeted the girl with a smile and ordered my breakfast with the same combination of english, hungarian, and gesture that I’d used the day before. Although, not as classically good looking as Kriszta, this girl was very attractive. Petite; dark brown, almost black hair to the small of her back; small perky breasts; and a full round ass. She gave me a sweet smile and wished me a good day as I paid for my meal and left the change once more as a tip. I sat at the same table as the day before, with one eye on the women passing in the street and the other on the girl behind the counter. The bakery’s uniform of white blouse and long black skirt suited this girl as well as Kriszta.
Once again, as I went through my day I was subjected to the delightful torment of Hungarian women. Two of the five people in our offices were women, Mia and Natasha. Both had brown hair dyed blonde and were well formed. Mia was slender, her hair to her shoulders and dyed completely blond, blue eyes, perky tits and a heart-shaped ass. Natasha had larger breasts and wore her hair longer but she, too, had blue eyes and a heart-shaped ass. Monday both women were dressed relatively conservatively and were all business. By Tuesday, they had begun to let traces of humor through.
I had lunch that day at a sidewalk cafe. On the way to the cafe, I was distracted by the secretaries, sunning on their lunch breaks. At the cafe, I watched as a fellow diner dropped her napkin and bent over to pick it up, her micro skirt riding up to expose a white thong to the world. On the street and on the escalators to the subway the bright summer sun shone through white cotton dresses, often outlining a woman’s thong-covered mound and dark nipples to my eager view.
That night Kriszta once again filled my fantasies. Wednesday morning I went back to the bakery. Kriszta wasn’t working, but the same petite brunette was. I found out her name was Jana before sitting down at my now customary table and enjoying the scenery as it moved past.
That day, Natasha wore a white, button down blouse and a dark skirt that came to just past the middle of her thigh. In the morning she came into my office to chat. We agreed that I should learn a new Hungarian word every day and started with “lashban” or “slowly” as in “speak more slowly, please.” Natasha spent most of the time we were talking with her hands up “fixing” her hair. escort pendik Since this position emphasized her large breasts and her blouse was unbuttoned in order to display a significant amount of cleavage, I quickly came to the conclusion that this girl liked to be watched.
All five of us went to lunch on Wednesday, and again I was surrounded by women wearing clothes that did little to conceal their charms. That afternoon, Natasha bent over to pick up something she’d “dropped” in front of my office door, exposing the top of her black thigh high stockings to me. I pretended not to notice her noticing me looking, while I enjoyed the brief glimpse of black lace and pale flesh.
By the end of the day, what with one thing and another, I was wound up tight. Masturbation wasn’t going to cut it anymore, so I decided to go to a strip club. Maybe not the best idea – going into a strip club alone in a foreign country where you don’t know the rules and can’t speak much of the language. But I figured the worst that would happen is I’d get rolled for a few bucks and at least I could get the girls to spin around “lashban.” I paid the $10 cover in Hungarian Forints and went in.
The club was pretty much the same as any similar establishment in the US, full of dark corners, flashing lights and music just a bit too loud. It was relatively early by Hungarian standards, only 8 pm or so, and the club wasn’t crowded. I found a seat along one wall with a good view of the stage and the rest of the room. A waitress wearing very little came over and took my order for a Lehe. The girl who was dancing when I came in was attractive but relatively forgettable. After another song, having stripped to nothing and performed the typical stripper bumps and grinds she left the stage. The waitress returned with my drink as the second girl got up on stage. She’d started dancing by the time I’d paid for the drink and tipped the waitress.
She wore a gauzy purple dress that fell off her shoulders and almost reached her knees with heels. As she spun, the dress flared out revealing a matching purple thong and thigh high stockings. So entranced was I by her movements, it took me almost a minute to realize that it was Kriszta. By then, the first song was over and her second song began. In classic stripper style she unlaced the front of her dress and slipped it off. The dress was tossed to one side and she continued dancing in thigh highs and thong. The thong was transparent enough that her neatly trimmed bush was visible from across the room.
Kriszta continued to dance through the second song, ending up lying on the floor and simulating masturbation. As the third song began, she lifted her hips and slipped her thong off. She rolled over and rubbed her pussy a little more with her ass in the air, then she climbed to her feet and continued dancing. I got up from my table and walked to the stage. Kriszta saw me coming and smiled. I slipped the Hungarian equivalent of $10 into her stocking, gently brushing the inside of her thigh as I did so and said, “Stop by when you’re free, I’ll buy you a drink.”
Kriszta finished her dance, collecting a few more tips. She stepped off of the stage and back into her panties, slipped her dress back on her arms and tied it loosely. She made her way over to my table as the next girl got into her routine. She smiled as she sat down and said, “What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?”
“Looking for a beautiful Hungarian woman to teach me the language,” I said. We continued flirting as the waitress delivered an overpriced glass of colored water.
Then Kriszta invited me to a back room for a private dance. After checking the price, I gladly accepted. She took my hand in hers and led me past a bouncer into the back room. Stalls were set up along the walls, open to the center of the room with solid walls almost to the ceiling and an oversize armchair in each. Kriszta led me to an empty chair out of direct sight of the bouncer. She pushed me gently back into the chair, then placed a knee on either side of me, straddling my lap.
She put her arms around my shoulders and leaned forward, pressing my face into her cleavage and rotated her torso against me. My hands ran along her legs from ankle to mid-thigh and back. She pendik escort bayan leaned back as she began untying her dress slowly and sensuously. She slid the dress apart, exposing her magnificent breasts. Firm, hemispheres of flesh capped by dark areolas the size of a half dollar and upstanding nipples. She cupped her breasts and rolled the nipples between her thumb and forefinger. She leaned forward again, returning her arms to my shoulders, and pressed her bare breasts against my face.
I took a nipple between my lips and sucked gently. She pulled back with a soft laugh, “Ah-ah!” she said. “Can’t go too far on a first date!”
She climbed off of my lap and turned around. Her dress still hung from her shoulders, but I could see the soft curve of her ass through it. She bent forward at the waist and ran her hand slowly up and down the inside of her thigh. I could see the mound of her pussy through her thong and almost-transparent dress, but her pussy lips themselves were hidden by a thicker patch of fabric along the crotch of the thong. She turned and stepped up onto the chair, one foot one either side of me. My hands slid up her legs, from heel to knee, then slowly higher. She was tall enough that her pussy was just at eye-level. I could see her trimmed pubic hair and smell her spicy perfume through her panties.
As my hands reached the top of her thigh-highs, she placed both feet between my legs and slid her body down mine. Her thong-covered pussy brushed against my nose and mouth, then her belly. She paused her slide for a moment as her breasts reached my face and her ass reached my hands. I cupped each globe gently during the pause, then slid my hands along her sides. She ended on her knees between my legs, my hands pressed against the side of her breasts and those magnificent mounds pressed around my rapidly expanding cock.
She rubbed her breasts against my cock a few times. As she did so, I slipped a hand around to gently squeeze a breast. She backed off and smiled while saying, “You can’t keep your hands off of me, can you?”
“It’s just too much temptation,” I replied.
“Here’s what we’re going to do then,” she said. She stood up and slipped the dress off of her shoulders. Tossing it over the back of the chair, she turned around and sat in my lap. She took my hands in hers and laid back along me. Looking over her shoulder I had a great view of her magnificent breasts. My cock rode along the crack of her ass as she began moving against me.
I moaned quietly and blew gently in her ear. As she developed a rhythm, she squeezed my hands tightly, then began sliding her hands, with mine underneath them, across her flat belly. I matched my breathing with hers, then slowly started increasing the pace. Her eyes closed as she continued to rock back and forth and her breathing sped up. Her hands pulled mine up onto her tits.
“Pinch my nipples,” she whispered. I complied.
“Harder,” she said. I squeezed each nipple tightly between thumb and forefinger, drawing a moan out of her. I cupped her breasts, then began rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefingers, paying attention to her breathing and tweaking them harder at appropriate times. she kept rotating her hips moving against me, eyes closed, breathing more and more quickly and I continued to play with her tits. Less than a minute later she let out a sharp moan and shuddered. Her legs squeezed together. Her back arched, lifting her ass off of my lap. She let out a long sigh as she lowered her ass back down to my lap.
She moved to sit up, her eyes opened wide. I pressed her back against me saying, “Stay there for a minute.”
She lay back and looked over her shoulder at me. “I’ve never cum at work before,” she said.
“Well, I’m happy that I could help you fix that,” I replied. She laughed softly.
“I don’t want to get you wet, this thong must be soaked through” she said and slid off of my lap and onto her knees between my legs once more. “I’d love to give you another, more private dance,” she said as she laid her cheek along my still erect cock. She stood up over me, dangling her tits in my face and said, “I get off at 8. Would you like to meet me for a drink at Dr. Watson’s down Tatra street?”
“I’d love to,” I answered.
“Good,” she said. “When we walk out, leave right away and go to the bar. I’ll meet you there after I’ve finished work and cleaned up a bit.” She kissed my cheek and led me from the back room back to the main floor.