Mary Jenkins
The tempted tourist

CHAPTER ONE

Jill Duncan shifted restlessly in her reclining airline seat, the blanket that the stewardess had given her in New York slipping in a tangled heap down her long shapely legs. For a moment she hovered between sleeping and waking, then fell back into her dream. The loud whirr of the jet engines became the excited buzz of spectators in a crowded courtroom, and she herself was sitting in the defense attorney's chair staring at the prosecutor in front of her. He was shouting, "True or false? True or false? Tea or coffee?" And when she didn't answer he began shaking her arm, repeating, "Tea or coffee?"

Jill groaned, not understanding his question, and then the courtroom abruptly faded as she opened her eyes to stare around the jet in confusion. A well-dressed man seated beside her was gently shaking her and speaking the words she'd heard in her dream, and a wide-awake and smiling stewardess was standing in the aisle with two steaming silver pots and a cart full of cups and saucers.

"Coffee," she muttered, rubbing her eyes and pushing her tousled red hair out of her face. Groggily accepting the plastic tray containing a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a sweet roll, Jill turned to smile at the man beside her.

"Gosh, I was really dead to the world. Thanks for waking me up."

"Well, I thought you might be hungry if you missed breakfast. You fell asleep before they served dinner last night."

Jill gulped down the hot coffee and began to feel fully awake. She glanced at the man out of the corner of her eye, noting that he was handsome with curly blond hair and blue eyes. His English was perfect, but a slight foreign accent prevented him from sounding like an American. He must be Scandinavian, she decided, and maybe he'd be able to tell her some interesting things about northern Europe. This excited the young redhead much more than his rugged good looks, for she prided herself on being scholarly rather than silly and romantic.

"Excuse me, but are you Scandinavian?" she asked him politely.

"You can tell by my accent?" he said with a little laugh. "I have studied the English language for ten years in school, but still I have an accent."

Jill was afraid she had insulted him. "Oh, no, you speak very good English," she reassured him. "I just wondered if you knew anything about Denmark. I'm going there to live for a year, you see."

"Let me welcome you to our little land," he smiled. I'm glad she's not just another tourist, he was thinking to himself. This girl's built like a bomb, and I'd like to know her better… much better. "Will you be staying in Copenhagen?"

"Yes, I'll be working with the university there," Jill replied.

"I'm also from Copenhagen – I've lived there all my life. By the way, my name's Erik Mortensen."

"I'm Jill Duncan," the curvaceous redhead said, dimpling and then smiling. "Please tell me about Copenhagen!"

Erik stared at her intently, taking particular note of the way her tailored blouse had become unbuttoned in her sleep to reveal two perfectly shaped breasts, their full white mounds thrusting up proudly from the tight-fitting white cotton brassiere. "First I will teach you the most important word in Danish," he smiled, raising his plastic cup of orange juice toward her.

"Skal!"

"Skal?" Diligent student that she was, Jill Duncan had bought Danish records and a language book when she learned that she had received a fellowship to study law in Copenhagen. But that word hadn't been in the lessons.

"Yes, it means 'cheers', and you must hold up your glass, touch it to mine, and look into my eyes," Erik instructed, staring deeply into the young girl's green eyes as she repeated, "Skal!"

"Attention please, ladies and gentlemen. We are now beginning our descent and in a few minutes we will be landing in Copenhagen. Please fasten your seatbelts and refrain from smoking as soon as the sign in front of you is lighted up."

Jill Duncan, surprised that the flight was already nearly over, turned to stare out of the window on her right. A few streaks of pink sunrise lingered on the horizon, but the rest of the sky was clear and blue and promised perfect early summer weather. Far below, she saw the deeper blue ocean with its whitecaps bobbing up and down like small silver-white sailboats.

"The flight seemed so short!" she exclaimed to the friendly young man beside her, obediently fastening her seatbelt as she spoke.

"No wonder!" he laughed. "You've been sleeping like a baby ever since we left New York."

"Well, I didn't want to be dead on my feet when I got to Copenhagen, so I took two sleeping pills," Jill explained. "I want to be able to get right to work."

"To work? I thought you were a student?" Mortensen asked.

"I am, I'm researching criminal law, and I received a grant to study crime in Denmark," the voluptuous redhead replied somewhat proudly. "I consider that work."

"It sounds very interesting. But wouldn't you be better off studying crime in New York? I just spent two weeks there on business, and it seemed much more dangerous to me than peaceful Copenhagen."

"That's just the point!" Jill exclaimed, her voice taking on the tone of a university lecturer as she began to speak of her scholastic studies. "I want to observe just how and why your society is so much less violent than American society, and what effect Danish laws have had on the criminal mentality in your country. The recorded facts show, for example, that when Denmark repealed the laws against pornography, your sexual crimes decreased a statistically significant degree, and…" She broke off in sudden confusion as she realized that her blouse was undone, and that this handsome young Danish man was staring intently at the cleavage of her shamelessly revealed breasts. "Exexcuse me," the curvaceous student stammered in embarrassment. "I think I'll just run back to the ladies' room and freshen up a bit." Her cheeks flaming, she squeezed awkwardly past him, more perturbed than ever as she felt his knees intently pressing against her firm young thighs.

Erik Mortensen smiled quietly to himself as he stared with unabashed interest at her gently swaying buttocks which were undulating in unconscious provocation beneath her short skirt as she hurried down the aisle. Like so many of the American girls he'd met during his frequent trips to the United States, she seemed ashamed and fearful of her own sexuality. Well, she'd change her ideas soon enough in Denmark, he was certain of that. And he was also sure that he'd do his utmost to help instigate that change!

In the tiny toilet cubicle at the rear of the airliner, Jill stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still burning at the thought of what Mr. Mortensen must think of her – he would certainly imagine that she was one of those cheap girls who believed in displaying their bodies to attract men. Then she tossed her long auburn hair proudly. Well, she wasn't one of those girls, and she would continue to act serious and polite to prove that fact to him. Working slowly so that she'd have plenty of time to regain her composure, the attractive twenty-two year old carefully cleansed her smooth fair skin and applied a light touch of lipstick to her full sensuous lips. Sometimes Jill wished that she hadn't been so generously endowed with good looks, for it only made things more difficult for her. Most men simply couldn't believe that a lovely young girl like herself could be more interested in her scholastic career than in their persistent attention. They invariably tended to stare at her long shapely legs, gently flaring buttocks, and proud high-set breasts when she was trying to discuss something serious with them, and she'd learned to steel herself against feeling flustered and confused by their not-so-very-well-disguised interest in her body. As far as Jill Duncan was concerned, her classically molded face and voluptuous body were merely handicaps to the intellectual development of her mind.

By the time she returned to her seat, refusing to react to Erik's tight-pressing knee as she squeezed past him, the red "No Smoking" sign was flashing. The excited young redhead peered eagerly out the window, surprised to see how very different the Danish countryside looked from the New England scenery she had grown up with. Instead of neat rows of white frame houses separated by white picket fences, that were so characteristic of American countryside, the Danish houses were painted in bright shades of gold and blue, and all the roofs seemed to be made of a red tile that gleamed in the bright sunlight.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" she exclaimed.

"Me, too," he agreed. "I'm always glad to come home. Traveling is all right, but I'm happiest here in Copenhagen."

Now they were flying over low red brick apartment houses, and the airplane was steadily falling lower and lower.

"Where are you staying?" Erik asked. "Some friends delivered my car to the airport parking lot, and I'd be glad to give you a lift into town."

"Oh, I don't have anything planned," Jill answered. "I didn't want to waste money on a hotel, so I thought I'd start to look for an apartment of my own right away."

"I'm afraid that's not going to be very easy," the blond man warned her. "It's almost impossible to find flats in the center of town, especially if you don't know anyone. And if you go to an agency for help, you'll pay a lot more than you would have at a cheap hotel. But it's too late to think of that now, I guess. All the hotels are full this time of the year. Why, you'll find kids sleeping in all the parks."

"Oh no!" Jill exclaimed, a worried frown creasing her pretty face. She had just enough money to rent a cheap apartment, to eat, and to buy the necessary books and supplies for her studies. If she had to hand over a lot of money to an agency, she might have to give up eating until next month's check arrived. "Is it really that bad?" she asked in a sober voice.

"I'm afraid so. It's hard enough to find a place to live even during the winter, but in June the city's flooded with tourists." Erik Mortensen enjoyed watching the independent girl's self-composed mask crumble to pieces and delighted in her new found vulnerability. "But maybe I can do something for you…"

"Oh, Mr. Mortensen, I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble," she protested weakly.

"No trouble at all! I was just thinking of the building where I lived when I was a student. The landlady's an old friend of my family's, and if there's anything available I'm sure she'd let you have it if I come around with you. It's nothing fancy, but it's only three hundred kroner a month and ten minutes walk from the university." He paused, then grinned, "And please don't call me 'Mr. Mortensen' – it makes me feel like an old man!"

"Okay, Erik," Jill smiled thankfully. "It sounds just perfect! I'm so grateful to you."

There was a sudden slight bump as the plane landed, causing the young girl's heart to leap in a joyous thrill of anticipation. She was about to set foot for the first time on European soil, about to start a new life!

In a daze of excitement she followed Erik out of the plane and down a confusing maze of corridors to the baggage and customs area. Though she didn't like to admit it to herself, the usually self-reliant girl realized that she would have felt lost without the handsome blond man there to lead the way and carry her heavy book-laden suitcase. As she listened to the voices around her babbling in strange-sounding Danish, she knew that her language records with their slow, well-pronounced phrases had been of very little real use. Jill turned in bewilderment to the helpful English-speaking Dane waiting beside her in the quick-moving customs line.

Just as they were approaching the custom booth, the line came to a standstill.

"A couple damn Arabs," Erik said, peering toward the head of the line. "Probably carrying dope."

Jill watched curiously as, after a long conversation in Danish and Turkish, two dark-complexioned men were led away by uniformed officials. Though she had, of course, read about the drug problem, the attractive student had never actually encountered anything except a little marijuana smoking in her quiet New England college, and the thought of smuggling narcotics all seemed fascinatingly wicked to the innocent young girl.

"Anything to declare?" the man behind the booth asked Erik, startling Jill out of her reverie. The custom official's eyes focused with obvious interest on her long slender legs, and she was annoyed to feel herself blushing.

"One bottle of whiskey and one carton of cigarettes," the well-built blond man answered smoothly.

Turning quickly to Jill, the official looked at the one-year student visa stamped in her brand new passport and smiled. "Have a good stay in Denmark!" he said, waving them on.

And then, after another tangle of corridors, they found themselves standing in the warm sunshine, climbing into Erik's little car, and driving down the highway toward Copenhagen.

"Got away with three bottles of whiskey and four cartons of cigarettes!" Erik boasted.

"But that's against the law!" Jill gasped.

"Well, here in Denmark there's a 100% tax on alcohol and cigarettes, so we don't quite take that law quite so seriously," he said.

The auburn-haired law student supposed that she ought to be shocked; after all, telling a lie to a custom's official was a crime. But the handsome Dane was grinning at her with such infectious glee that she had to smile back.

"Wow! If I'd known that, I'd have bought some duty-free cigarettes at Kennedy International. I guess I'll have to give up smoking."

"Take one of my cartons," he offered. "And one of the bottles of whiskey too."

"Oh, I couldn't do that!"

"Please. I'm going to Munich in two weeks, so I'll be able to get some more. Besides, I owe you a favor. That customs official might have opened my bags if he hadn't been so busy staring at your legs."

Although this was just the sort of remark that Jill resented, and in spite of her reservations about accepting smuggled goods, she didn't quite know how to refuse his offer. He was being so very kind to her, and she didn't want to seem rude.

"Thank you," she murmured at last, thinking to herself as she spoke: Just this once – this will be the first and last time I ever break a law.

It seemed no time at all before they reached the center of Copenhagen with its copper-spired townhall and crowded square. A few blocks farther on, past a little park with a small lake filled with ducks and swans, Erik turned onto a winding cobblestone side street.

"Here we are," he said. "It's good to be back in Copenhagen after New York's traffic. Let's go meet Fru Larsen and see if she's got a flat for you."

Fru Larsen, a plump, gray-haired woman with a cheerful smile, did indeed have an empty apartment in the old five-story building. "The couple that lived there went on a holiday to the country last week," she explained, "and just two days ago they wrote me a letter and said that they had decided to stay there. Isn't that lucky for you!"

The three of them made their way up a dark narrow flight of wooden steps to the top floor where the landlady fitted a key into one of the three doors in the hallway. The flat was tiny and sparsely furnished, but it was scrupulously clean. Sunshine streamed in through the large windows of the single room, making it seem cheerful in spite of the threadbare carpet and shabby bedspread. Beyond this room there was a miniature kitchen and a tiny room containing the toilet.

"A toilet, that's great!" Erik exclaimed. "There weren't any toilets when I lived here."

"We put them in two years ago. And I'm afraid the rent went up, too, it's four hundred kroner a month now," the landlady apologized.

"This is just perfect!" Jill said happily. She was so grateful to find a place to live without any trouble that another hundred kroner didn't bother her at all. Quickly figuring in her head, she realized that the rent was only about $75, which she could easily manage. "Can I move in right away?"

"Of course, dear. And if you have any questions about anything, just ask me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some cakes in the oven."

As the older woman's heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs, Erik turned to the excited redhead. "Well, do you like it?" he asked.

"Oh, I love it!" Jill cried. "I, I can't thank you enough, Mr… uh… Erik."

"My pleasure," he said, thinking that when he managed to get into her hot little pussy he'd be amply repaid for all his efforts. But not too fast! he cautioned himself. I'll wait until she wants it, and that shouldn't be very long if I'm clever about it. His restlessly stirring penis gave a little lurch, creating a noticeable bulge in his tight-fitting trousers. Somehow this voluptuous yet naive young American girl whom he planned to seduce excited him much more than his many Danish girl friends, all of whom were more than willing to go to bed with him whenever he pleased.

"Now how about seeing something of the town? We can have lunch, and then I'll show you one of those porno shops you mentioned."

Jill only hesitated for an instant, then nodded. "Okay, but just let me get out of these clothes, I feel all dirty and rumpled. I'll just be a moment."

Quickly tugging open the small suitcase which Erik had lugged up the stairs for her, the attractive young redhead pulled out a clean skirt and underwear and hurried into the kitchen. She stood naked before the sink, waiting for the water to run hot and listening to the foreign sounds of three youngsters yelling to one another in Danish from the courtyard below. How strange everything was! She didn't feel at all like her usual self. Just the very idea of visiting a pornography shop with a near-stranger would have been unthinkable to hear back in New England – though, of course, it was necessary now for her research, and she was grateful not to have to go into a shop alone.

Even stranger was the fact that she was allowing herself to undress in an apartment with a man just beyond the door. She'd never thought she'd do that again, not after what had happened to her the last time, but somehow she felt so differently here in Denmark that even this seemed all right.

That other time… that other time… the thought reverberated in her mind and she felt herself drifting backward in time…

It had happened two months ago, at the little college in New England that now seemed so far away that Jill wasn't quite sure it really existed. She'd come home late from her gymnastics class, and had just finished her shower when Jeff, her ex-boyfriend, arrived for their date to hear a lecture being given by a visiting Supreme Court judge.

Unthinkingly, she answered the door in her robe, and immediately realized it was a bad mistake when Jeff grabbed at her with unaccustomed ardor and kissed her on the lips.

"Wow!" he whistled. "You ought to answer the door like this more often!"

"I'll be ready in a moment," Jill replied coolly, attempting to pull away from his strong embrace and escape to the bathroom.

"Don't rush, baby, I like you fine just like this!" he leered. "Jeff! What's the matter with you tonight?"

"What's the matter? You're the matter, Jill. You're so Goddamn sexy sometimes that it drives me insane not to be able to touch you!"

"We've discussed this matter before, Jeff," she said sternly, still trying to pull away from him.

"Yeah, sure we have, but I still don't hear any satisfactory answers," the frustrated young law student retorted. "Are you going to marry me or not? If you are, then what are we waiting for? Honestly, Jill, I can't take this frustration much longer…"

"I've told you before that I don't want to think about marriage until I have my degree," the scantily-clad redhead answered. "I enjoy being with you, but I don't want to get too serious."

"But, damn it all, if you won't marry met then at least you could really enjoy being with me. You must be the only senior on this campus who's still a fucking virgin!"

"That's not true! There are plenty of other girls around here who believe that a woman should be pure for her husband. And if sex is as fantastic as you say, then surely it's worth waiting for." She spoke more vehemently than she'd meant to, trying to deny the unwanted thrills of pleasure that shot through her body as her boy friend's hands massaged the supple flesh close to her sensitive breasts.

Jeff thought he could detect a slight relaxation of the redhead's voluptuous body, and decided to soften his tactics. "You know I don't want to fight with you, honey. I do understand how you feel, but I just can't believe you're right. It feels so good to touch your beautiful body, how can it be wrong?"

Jill shook her damp curls confusedly, not quite sure of herself and tweaked teasingly at the tiny nipples. "It's just wrong…" she finally muttered.

"But there's nothing wrong with a little kiss, is there?" the excited college man asked in a soft, convincing tone, pulling her down on the narrow bed beside him without releasing his hold on her lushly ripened breasts. It I can just get her hot enough, he plotted, maybe she'll let me go all the way. She just has to, or I'm going to cum right in my jeans.

Jill felt his long moist tongue prodding insistently into her own unresisting mouth. Almost without knowing what she was doing, she found her own meeting his, and stabbing lewdly into his warm mouth, sending rampant thrills of intense desire coursing through her entire half-naked body. Even though she knew she ought to stop him now before he got too excited, Jill just couldn't seem to make the effort. Just another minute more, she promised herself. Then I'll stop him.

But one minute became five, and before she knew what was happening she was lying below Jeff's muscular body on the bed. Somehow he'd managed to undo the loose robe she had been wearing and was kissing her nakedly quivering breasts, first one and then the other, his hard hot tongue spiking her nipples to a tingling erection that sent electric surges of sensation running from the tips of her bare toes to the top of her skull.

"No, Jeff, no… we mustn't… we… Mmmmmmmmmmhhhhh!" The innocent college girl's weak protests melted into a groan of ecstasy as his strong teeth fastened on her left, biting first softly, then harder as his hands continued to squeeze at the firm flesh of her ripe young breasts.

"God, Jill, your tits are so soft… so warm! They feel so good!"

The aroused redhead shook her head mutely, not wanting to admit even to herself that his depraved sucking of her excitedly tingling breasts felt good. "No, Jeff, we… we have to stop!" she managed to say in an unconvincing voice which the boy completely ignored.

His hands were running down along her rib cage now, caressing the flat silken flesh of her belly, and then – oh God no! – entwining themselves in the forbidden "vee" of her pubic hair. Jill knew she had to do something fast, but when she tried to speak the words somehow changed to a moan of helpless pleasure.

"Ooooooooooh, ahhhhhh," she moaned in mindless bliss as his finger stroked along the sensitive wet slit of her virginal little pussy and rubbed in teasing circles around the quivering bud of her clitoris. Oh God! She's done this same thing to herself dozens of times in the past, but not once had it ever felt as good as this!

For a moment Jill's mind cleared, and she gasped out, "No! Stop! Stop!" but it was no use. His lewd titillating finger merely swirled across the erect clitoris even more eagerly, then pushed through the moistened lips of her pulsing vagina. I can't let him do this, it's wrong terribly wrong! her mind cried in silent warning. But her body, as though following the commands of a brain of its own, began to twitch and squirm in helpless abandon, and her long legs spread wider to give him freer access to her wet, throbbing pussy.

"Can't wait any longer, baby," Jeff groaned, jerking his finger roughly from her heated vaginal flesh and hurriedly unzipping his jeans. "Gotta fuck you now!"

His sudden withdrawal from her hotly pulsating cunt and the obscene words he uttered so shocked the young co-ed that she didn't realize he had unfastened his fly until she felt the urgently pulsing cock-head pressed against her naked thigh. Then she shuddered, jolted at last from her unwanted erotic arousal.

"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T!" Jill cried out, as she stiffened her body and tried to move away from him, clamping her thighs together in an involuntary motion of protection.

"Open your legs!" Jeff gasped, clawing cruelly at the tender flesh of her inner thighs with talon-like fingers. "Goddamn it, Jill, I can't wait! Open your legs!"

"Nooooooooo! Get away, get away from me!" the now-frightened girl wailed in near-hysteria. "NO! Nooooooooooo!" The voluptuous redhead's tight-pressing thighs had trapped his invading penis between them, but her fear-tensed muscles squeezing this blood-inflated cock-head only served to enflame his already uncontrollable lust for her.

Jill felt her boy friend's body buck and jerk above her own nakedly cringing loins, felt his long hard penis ramming back and forth between her tightly clamped thighs, heard obscenities spew from his mouth in incoherent gasps. Then, much to her horror, his wildly throbbing cock began spurting out gushes of hot thick sperm all over her trembling thighs. Jill lay completely still, trying desperately to suppress the strange sensation of regret that spread throughout her unsatisfied body. Thank God I stopped him before something awful happened, she told herself, and by the time Jeff raised himself off her body to glare at her in undisguised anger, she'd succeeded in convincing herself that this was what she really felt.

"Goddamn it, Jill!" Jeff exclaimed, rising to his feet with his rapidly deflating penis still held in one hand. "What the hell did you make me do that for?"

"Why don't you go get a towel and clean up the mess you've made," she replied in a cold voice.

"You bitch!" he raged. "You frigid cock-teasing bitch!"

"If that's the way you feel about me, then maybe you'd better leave," she said, close to tears as she rose from the rumpled bed and drew her robe tightly around her swollen and suddenly aching breasts.

"You bet your life I'm leaving! I'd rather be with a five-buck whore than a cold slab of meat like you!" He glared at her with what seemed to be a burning hatred as he yanked up his jeans and started for the door.

"And don't bother coming back!" Jill defiantly called after him, Jeff's harsh words wounding her more deeply than she would ever admit.

"That'll be a pleasure, baby!" he yelled over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

Hot stinging tears sprang to Jill's green eyes as she listened to Jeff's footsteps clattering down the stairs and heard his motor gunning and tires squealing as he sped away. Steeling herself against the tremors of frustration that now were shaking and rippling through her body, she took a second shower, downed some sleeping pills, and fell into a restless sleep.

She'd seen Jeff only once after that evening – at the International Law exam. Jill turned immediately away when she saw he was sitting next to a petite blonde nicknamed "Hot Pants Susie". Good riddance she told herself, forcing back the unexplained hot tears that fell, one after another, on her examination paper…

With a jolt of surprise, Jill realized that she'd been standing in her new kitchen staring with unseeing eyes at the running tap for over a minute. Quickly picking up her washcloth, she began sponging her body with vigorous strokes as if she were trying to scrub away the disturbing memories. All that's in the past, the twenty-two year old redhead told herself firmly. Now you're here in Denmark, starting a new life, and you won't make the mistake of trusting a man and letting him get too close to you again. This thought reassured her, and by the time she'd pulled on her white cotton brassiere, bikini panties, and her clean navy blue checked mini-skirt and navy top, she was humming a little tune to herself.

Erik, who had been peering through the bead-curtained doorway leading from the kitchen to the main room with great curiosity while the voluptuous naked American girl stood as if in a trance before the sink, had prudently moved back from the doorway and was staring out the front windows when Jill reappeared.

"You look lovely," he said, smiling warmly at the pretty redhead. But in his mind's eye he was seeing not her neatly clad body, but the white-skinned, gracefully curving buttocks and firm youthful thighs that he'd watched in the kitchen five minutes ago. Goddamn, this girl was really fantastic! He thanked his lucky stars for having been fortunate enough to sit next to something as nice as this on the SAS flight, rather than the overweight businessman or talkative little old lady he usually encountered on airplanes.

"Come on, let's go. I'm dying for a real Danish beer after two weeks in New York. Let's have lunch first, then go see that porno shop, all right?"

"Sounds wonderful," Jill agreed. She was feeling in high spirits, her unpleasant memories canceled out by the fact that Erik hadn't tried to bother her while she was dressing in the kitchen. European men must be different, she thought thankfully. Erik seemed to be a real man, not a silly college boy like Jeff had been.

They made their way down the steep stairway and out into the bright sunshine.

"That's the library," Erik gestured toward a new, three-story building across the street. "They have lots of books in English too, magazines and other things. Come on, let's walk that way. It's no use taking the car, there'll be no place to park it."

Jill looked around her in wide-eyed fascination as they strolled down the cobblestone street lined on either side by small shops interspersed with large buildings that Erik told her belonged to the university. It all seemed clean and peaceful, and she knew that she was going to like living in Copenhagen. They came to a small canal where several old women were vending fresh fish, turned a corner and found themselves at a restaurant.

Inside it was dark and cozy with wooden tables crowded with people and a delicious smell of cooking food. Jill suddenly realized that she was ravenously hungry and thirsty.

"Two Elephants," Erik said to the waiter in Danish.

"Elephants?" Jill laughed. "Did you really ask for two elephants?"

"That's a kind of beer," he explained with a smile. "You'll like it, I think."

Jill did indeed like it. She gulped it down quickly, and Erik immediately ordered two more bottles with their meal, a giant plate of Tartar Steak – which was only raw meat ground up and topped with onions, capers, and a raw egg.

"We say in Denmark that this raw meat makes you sexy," Erik said, glancing hungrily at Jill's full upthrust breasts pressing enticingly against the thin fabric of her cotton shirt.

The auburn-haired girl was too dizzy from the two powerful beers to be offended by his remark, as she normally would have been, and just smiled absentmindedly.

"Another beer before we go?" the attractive blond man suggested, ordering them before she had time to object.

By the time the couple left the restaurant, Jill was feeling more relaxed than she had in months. She was unused to alcohol, and the three unexpectedly strong beers had made her half-drunk. Now the prospect of visiting a porn shop seemed pleasurable rather than an ordeal. It would be fun!

The restaurant was only a couple blocks from something that Erik called the "Walking Street", a mile-long pavement lined with shops where no cars were allowed. Thick crowds milled down the street, and many cafes and restaurants had seats out on the sidewalk where people basked in the sun, watching the parade of pedestrians Jill immediately spotted three large signs reading, "Sexy Shop", "Porno World", and "Sex Land". Born and bred in rural New England, the young woman had never been exposed to pornography in all her twenty-two years. Somehow she'd imagined that pornography shops like this were only found in dark slum-quarter streets, and she was relieved to find that this store was right in the center of town, flanked by an expensive jewelry shop on one side and a bakery on the other. Even more relieved by the fact that none of the passers-by seemed to take any notice of the sex shop's customers, she followed Erik though the doors of "Porno World".

The store was crowded with customers speaking in a babble of languages. On the walls hung row after row of color magazines, and the ceiling was hung with erotic posters. Loud rock music issued from hidden speakers, its insistent beat seeming to pound in the intoxicated young redhead's bloodstream.

"Gosh… I don't know quite where to begin," she murmured to Erik.

"Why don't you just look around? I'll pick out some of the really good stuff for you," he suggested, and she gratefully agreed.

The rack beside her was crammed with magazines labeled. Color Climax, each with a different illustration on the glossy cover. Although no one seemed to be noticing her, Jill felt too embarrassed to actually pick one up and look through it. Still, even the covers were pretty wild. One that particularly caught her eye showed a pair of lovely young girls draped nakedly over a couple of large motorcycles with two muscular leather-clad males approaching menacingly, their enormous cocks held in their hands. A lewd little thrill of arousal rose unbidden down between her legs, and she quickly turned away to stare at the ceiling. Just above her head was a poster divided into twelve sections, each one representing a different astrological sign illustrated by a sexual position. Dazedly, Jill picked out her own sign, Scorpio, and gazed in stunned disbelief at the seemingly impossible contortion of the nakedly entwined couple. God! Did people really do things like that? What would it feel like to be that woman on the poster?

The inexperienced redhead sensed an uncomfortable moisture spreading into the vee of her tight white cotton panties. She again fixed her eyes on the rack of magazines. This time her attention was caught by one where a naked, sun-bronzed brunette was hungrily sucking a black man's gigantic erect penis into her ovalled pink lips.

It's perverted! It's sick! Jill told herself. But in spite of anything she could do, the prurient flames of illicit desire surged with ever-increasing urgency through her belly. This unwanted physical reaction frightened her; she liked to think that she was in complete control of herself at all times, but right now she felt strangely vulnerable.

"Hey, you should see the things they've got over at the counter," Erik was suddenly pulling on her arm, directing her attention toward the glass-encased display case containing bizarre clothing, little whips, and dildos.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Jill gasped involuntarily, more shocked and aroused than ever. Somehow these lewd objects seemed even more obscene than any picture, people actually bought these things and used them! The very idea took her breath away. Her wide-open green eyes focused in fascination on a pair of purple silk bikini panties with a slit in the crotchband, then at an eight-inch dildo with a red light flashing on and off in the head. God! She simply couldn't believe it! She had to get out of this place before she fainted.

"Can we leave now?" she asked Erik in a weak, shaky voice.

"Already?" He sounded disappointed, but led her out the door, handing her a thick parcel which she guiltily stuffed into her purse.

"It… it was just a little stuffy… too crowded… I got dizzy," she tried to explain, not wanting to tell him of her indecent arousal.

"Let's walk in the fresh air, then you'll feel fine," he suggested. The handsome Dane had a shrewd suspicion of just what was bothering the young redhead, but he nonchalantly continued playing his role of the polite Danish gentleman, occasionally interjecting a suggestive comment and gleefully noting her awkward confusion.

For the rest of the afternoon they explored the Walking Street and the narrow streets surrounding it, stopping here and there for a drink.

"How about dinner?" Erik finally suggested as the townhall bells chimed six o'clock. "We could visit one of the live sex shows afterward… you really should see one, just to know what they're all about for your research."

Jill hesitated, feeling the shameful shivers of excitement coursing through her loins at his seemingly innocent suggestion. She'd had a good time with Erik Mortensen all afternoon, and had decided that she trusted him. What the naive twenty-two year old didn't trust was her own body's strange reactions to the pornography she had already seen. She was afraid that a sex show would make her feel just like she had in the sex shop, and that was something she simply couldn't face. These confusing physical sensations must be caused by fatigue, by "jetlagging", she decided. Best to go straight to bed. Besides, she had two meetings in the morning, and she wanted to be alert for them in order to make a good impression.

"I'm sorry, but I think I better go on home and get some sleep," she said to Erik, feeling guilty at his obvious disappointment. He'd been very nice to her, Jill thought, but after all her work was really the most important thing. "Maybe some other evening," she added.

"Oh, come on," he insisted. "You slept on the plane. And it's still early."

If I can only get her to watch a live show, I'm sure she'll loosen up, he was thinking. Already, I can see her Victorian mask starting to crack. But Jill was not to be persuaded. "No, I'm sorry," she said firmly. "I have important work to do in the morning."

She suddenly sounded aloof and stubborn, and Erik decided not to press the issue. He'd wait a day or so, and then he'd try again. And again and again, if necessary, for this auburn-haired girl with her large, proud breasts and firmly swaying ass-cheeks was well worth waiting for. He knew instinctively that when he finally got to fuck that tight little pussy of hers, all his efforts would be more than worthwhile.

At the door to her apartment, Erik pulled the luscious redhead to him and kissed her, his lean muscular loins pressing suggestively against her slender body. Taken by surprise, Jill responded eagerly. Before she was aware of what was happening, her hips were grinding up against the warm bulge in his trousers as forbidden waves of erotic arousal surged through her body once again. Almost immediately, however, she came to her senses and broke away from him with an embarrassed little laugh.

"Good night, Erik," she said rather breathlessly. "And… and thank you so much for all you've done to help me today."

"I'll be seeing you very soon," he said softly. He stood there in the stairwell, watching her firm, panty-clad buttocks undulating beneath her short skirt as she mounted the stairs. Yes, it had been a good day… and next time would be even better, of that he was sure.