Renaissance of the Heart - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Renaissance of the Heart - Part 3

November had come and gone and December had slipped in unnoticed by the time I was due to go to Europe. It was an odd feeling. A huge task lay ahead when normally I was winding down, ready for the Christmas break. While I would usually be thinking of dusting down the sled, I was headed for one of Europe’s most beautiful cities in all its autumnal glory. I sent a text to Elizabeth from the airport, a final call to keep her fingers crossed for the hurdles that were to follow. My only regret was that I couldn’t take her with me. I could only imagine the wonderful time we could have together, but we both knew it wasn’t a vacation. The ‘sale’ of the painting had got her out of the immediate threat of bankruptcy and a holiday now would only pile on a profligacy that we could ill afford. I needed to be focused on the task in hand. If I took in some culture along the way, then that would be my reward for a little dedication to my art. It had occurred to me some time back that I might be challenged over my taking the painting on the plane. It wasn’t exactly big, but with the wrapping it was the size of a decent pizza. I made representations to the Chamber of Commerce and with a little smooth talking got them to issue a waiver. I was fearful of what might occur if it went in the hold, and I had visions of someone’s suitcase cutting it in two. This way, I had the necessary documentation, which said it was ‘valuable merchandise’ and needed to be hand luggage. If I didn’t have enough ...

... bridges to cross, stumbling over bureaucracy was something I could do without, but at least the painting would only have to make the journey twice. I can’t say that I relish flying. It’s a necessity but I do get the jitters from time to time. I was just happy that it wasn’t a long-haul. The flight to southern Italy takes the scenic route, crossing the snow-capped mountains of the Alps and the lake district of Switzerland. I had taken first class for that little extra comfort and because I could afford it. After breaking through the clouds, I was up and away, relaxing in my reclining chair, a glass of wine on my tray and a tub of Pringles on my lap. The wine and the gentle hum of the engines had a soporific effect. I hadn’t slept well the night before. I never can when something’s going to happen and I nodded off, occasionally experiencing momentary periods of wakefulness as a little turbulence rocked the plane. I wasn’t entirely surprised to be the only passenger in first class but I was surprised by the Stewardess. As far as I knew Elizabeth was in telesales, so what was she doing working on a plane? I watched as she trundled the drinks trolley up to my seat, her uniform snugly accentuating her hourglass figure. Her skirt seemed to be a size too small, so that her panties bit into her bum cheeks. “Would you like something else, Madam?” she asked. “Eh? Elizabeth?” “I’m your sexy stewardess for the flight. Would you like a little massage?” “Won’t the Captain mind?” I asked. “The ...