World Traveler Seeks Companion

He sleeps with the daughter & falls in love with the mother

All characters are over 18. This is a long tale. Give it time and you'll encounter sex (oral, anal, and regular), and swapping, public and group sex. The traveler first has sex with the daughter, then her mother and then, a stranger at the mother's request.

^^^

Sunday

Jan was depressed.

It was past noon on a cold, but beautiful sunny Sunday in February. She was still wearing her pajamas. She had on a pair of soft, cotton, leopard print leggings and a crew neck tunic with long sleeves. The top was imprinted with a large face of a

cat: ears, eyes, black nose, and whiskers.

The eyes were off, wrong, misshaped. Her large, heavy, braless tits distorted them.

She had been crying.

"Fuck!" she called out loudly to no one. She was alone in her tiny apartment in center city Philadelphia.

"Why do I find all the turds? Guys who wine and dine and after they fuck me, they disappear?"

She threw a pillow across the room. It crashed harmlessly against the wall.

"I should start charging for it," she said angrily.

"I lead with my heart, looking for love and give them everything. I let Charlie fuck my ass and still the bastard lost interest and broke up with me. It's not fair."

The twenty-five-year-old started crying again. It had been a rough weekend. She was on her third box of Kleenex tissues.

Friday morning her most recent beau, Charlie, had texted her and suggested they have lunch. When they met, he was quieter than usual. Jan got a foreboding feeling. She pushed her salad aside and said, "What is it, Charlie? Tell me what's going on. You seem distant."

"Ah. Ah," he stammered. Then he blurted out, "I think we should take a break."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes shot opened in surprise. This conversation was completely unexpected. Last weekend, they had been at a lovely B & B and shagged the whole time. They barely left the room. He plied her with tequila and she consented to let him shove his dick in her ass.

He hurriedly said, "It's not you. It's me. I'm not ready for a serious relationship."

"You're twenty-eight. I'm twenty-five. We're hardly kids!"

He didn't respond. She stood and flipped her salad over. It landed on the vest of his three-piece suit. She spat out, "You bastard. Don't ever call me again!"

She marched out of the restaurant. Everyone stared at the cursing, crazy woman.

She struggled through the rest of the workday and had been holed up in her apartment ever since. She ordered in food. She ate her emergency stash of ice cream and she spent the weekend bitching, cursing or crying.

Sunday morning came. She was still wearing the same pajamas she'd put on Friday evening. She grabbed a tissue, dabbed her eyes, and then she blew her nose loudly. It sounded like someone blowing a cheap party horn.

The doorbell rang. She ignored it. It rang again and the visitor also knocked.

Jan wasn't in the mood to see anyone. She continued to ignore it. Then she heard incessant knocking and a demanding voice. "Jan, this is your mother. You've been ignoring my calls all weekend. I'm not leaving until I see you. I need visual proof that you're alive."

"Fuck. This is all I need," Jan murmured.

Her mother continued to knock. Jan knew Isabella wouldn't go away. She called out, "I'm coming. I'm coming."

She unlocked the door and let her mother in.

"My, you're a sight!"

Isabella was taken aback by her daughter's unkempt appearance. She sniffed, wrinkled her nose and said, "You stink."

Her mother put the clues together - seclusion, crying and a disregard of personal hygiene and concluded that her daughter had broken up with some guy. She enveloped her in a big hug and said compassionately, "There. There. He wasn't worthy of you."

Jan instantly felt better. She said, "Damn straight."

"Come. Let's get you cleaned up. I'll start a bath."

While Jan brushed her teeth for the first time in days, Isabella filled the tub. Then the mother helped her daughter to undress.

She studied her daughter's lush, young body and wondered, "She's so beautiful. Her face, bellissimo. Those green eyes and thick, black hair, magnifico. She has the Romano women's famous figure - full tits, a tapered waist, and a womanly bottom. She should have her pick of men. How does she always end up with losers?".

She chuckled when her gaze fell on her daughter's shaved sex. She said out loud, "I'll never understand why women these days shave their pubic hair. Armpits, legs, yes. But there? It's so incongruous to see the vagina of a girl on a woman's body."

Jan said shyly, in an embarrassed manner, "Guys expect it. I blame the Internet."

"Huh," Isabella emoted. "Jannie, get in the tub. I'll shampoo your hair."

Jan climbed in the tub. The twenty-five-year-old instantly felt loved. Her mom's use of her childhood nickname and the fact that she was going to wash her, made her feel safe. It reminded her of happier days when she was a child and her mother used to bathe her.

Isabelle used a plastic cup to pour warm bath water over her daughter's head. She shampooed and rinsed her shoulder length hair. Then she used a cloth and gently cleaned her daughter's back and limbs.

Finally, Jan explained, "Charlie broke up with me. He said he wasn't ready for a serious relationship."

She looked her mother in the eye and said, "I tried so hard. I gave him everything. Last week at this time, he had his dick up my ass. I don't know what more I could have done to make him happy."

Isabella said nothing. She continued to lovingly bathe her daughter. When she washed Jan's chest, she cupped her daughter's full breasts. Her fingers rubbed and softly tweaked the puckered nipples that greeted her. They were dark like ruby red cherries.

"Oh!" Jan exhaled. Her mother's groping had caused her to gasp.

Isabelle overlooked the sound. She released the nip and said, "Up on you knees, Jannie."

Jan rose to her knees and spread her legs wide. Isabella scrubbed her daughter's abdominal area and ass. She dropped the cloth worried that it was too rough to use on tender flesh. She washed her daughter's shaved pussy with just her hand. Her fingers fluttered through her daughter's pink petals and then swooped down and around. She explored Jan's butt cleavage. Her fingers lingered on the crinkled star.

"Is your bum still sore?" Isabelle asked. Before her daughter could answer, a soapy finger penetrated Jan's anus.

"Oh!" Jan groaned. "No. Not now." She leaned forward to give her mom

a better angle to penetrate her butthole. She said, "I was sore the next day."

Isabelle playfully pumped her slim finger in and out a couple of times. She laughed and said, "My grandmother was the first person to stick anything up my butt. She fingered my ass as she explained anal sex to me."

Jan looked over her shoulder at her mother intrigued by her words. Isabelle continued the fingering. She was careful and gentle as she shoved it in deeper and added a second finger. She wanted to make sure her daughter had no lasting injury from last weekend's buggery.

"Hmmm," Jan sighed contentedly. "You have a nice touch."

"I developed it massaging your father's prostate. He'd go off like a cannon when I did it while giving him a blowjob."

The women shared a smile. They'd each done it for their partner to increase his pleasure.

Isabella continued her story. "I had been married a month. Your father and I were back from our honeymoon. We were living with my grandparents to save money so we could get our own place. I'd never had anal sex, but I would that night. Your father asked my grandmother to prepare me."

"Really?"

"Yes," Isabella said. "Men have been butt fucking women since the beginning of time. Your father felt no shame about his desire. My grandmother was not shocked when he brought up the subject. Their only concern was that I be properly prepared.

"So, Grandma Sophie took me aside. She explained and demonstrated what was going to happen that night. I still remember her words. 'It's no big deal Bella. Lubrication is the key.' She told me her grandmother had prepared her for anal sex saying, 'That's why God made olive oil'."

Both women laughed. Isabella pulled her fingers out of her daughter's butt. "I'm glad your bum is okay. Why don't you soak in the tub?"

She felt sorry for her daughter and added, "I'm sorry the world has changed so much. Men have always had the appetites of wild beasts. They all want to take their women in every hole possible. In my day, the deal was a woman would give a guy all the sex he desired, but the man had to marry you. They owed you a home, children, and respect.

"Did I marry the last honorable man?" Isabella asked rhetorically. "Your father was a kind and gentle lover. He had passions and I gladly satisfied him with my mouth, my pussy, and my ass. I took care of him. He married me and gave me everything I wanted: a home and a family."

Isabella left her daughter soaking in the tub. She skinned and crushed some tomatoes. She added garlic, olive oil, and other spices and put the mixture in a Dutch oven on top of the stove. Then she cleaned up the apartment.

Her daughter entered the living room. Isabella smiled and said, "In an hour, we will be having the food of the gods. I found enough ingredients to make the Romano's family famous gravy."

"It smells good," Jan said with a smile.

She felt better. The bath and having her mother with her did the trick. Jan reclined on the sofa and opened her computer. Isabella sat beside her and read a magazine. They didn't talk. They didn't need to talk. They just needed to be with each other.

After an hour of soothing silence, Jan announced, "I'm going to take a break from dating."

She sighed heavily and said, "God! I need a vacation. I have the vacation days, but I don't have the money."

"You know I'd help you if I could, but since your father died, money has been tight."

"I know, Mom. Listen to this ad I found on Craigslist. The title is "World Traveler Seeks Female Companion."

Jan read the following:

I lost my Valentine. My wife of twenty years died five years ago on February the fourteenth. As you can image, Valentine's Day is now a very difficult holiday for me. Before she passed, she made me promise to travel the world as we had planned. 'Life is to be lived! Savor every moment!' were her commands.

She even encouraged me to find a companion with whom I could share the experience.

I have been too overwrought to follow her advice until now. I am seeking a female traveling companion. For legal purposes, she must be at least eighteen. There is no upper age limit. I am forty-nine. You need to be fit enough to walk the cobblestone streets of European cities and to run on the most beautiful beaches in the world. Bring plenty of sunscreen. You will be required to be topless and naked where the laws allow.

You must be a happy, upbeat and adventurous person. We will travel as a couple. We will share accommodations. Yes, sleep in the same bed and have sex. I will pay for everything. If you are intrigued, but concerned about traveling alone bring your mother, sister or best friend along. I will cover their expense.

I have planned a trip around the world covering six continents and both hemispheres. It will take years to accomplish at the leisurely pace I envision. I understand that may be an issue for some so I am willing to break the trip up into small, more digestible bites. Can you join me for a week in the Caribbean or two weeks in Vienna?

Respond by e-mail to worldtravelseekscomapanion@gmail.com. Send a copy of your driver's license to confirm your age and a short note explaining why you would like to join me on the trip. Sam

When she finished reading the ad, Jan looked up at her mother and asked, "What do you think?"

"Are you seriously considering this?"

"Yes."

"You'd have sex with a stranger?"

"I've been having sex with men I've selected and look what it's gotten me? Nothing but heartache. At least this guy will give me a rocking vacation."

"But it's not safe."

"That's why you're coming," Jan said with a sly smile. "He says he'll pay for you too."

She saw a look of distress on her mother's face and she said, "What's the harm with dropping him a line? I'll send him an e-mail. If it isn't real or he's a kook, I'll forget about it. If he seems sincere, I'll arrange a meeting in a public place. I'll go and feel him out. If he seems hinky, I'll call it off.

"Mom, I know this is unusual. Think of it as playing the lottery. You know the odds are horribly stacked against you, but somebody wins. Maybe it's my turn to have something good happen to me."

Isabelle frowned. She didn't like the idea, but she didn't believe it was real. She didn't expect anything to come from it. She saw no reason to get in a fight over something that was unlikely to occur. She stood and said, "I think the sauce is done. I'll get dinner."

Jan took her mom's silence on the matter as implied consent. She began working on her response. She typed.

Dear Traveler,

I'm sorry to hear of the loss of you wife. I too am expecting to have a miserable Valentine's Day. I've just broken up with my boyfriend. I was so sad and disappointed that I was tempted to crawl into a hole and wallow in self-pity, but now that I've read your ad, I'm inspired by your wife's sage advice. We need to live life and carry on despite difficulties and tragedies.

This world throws us all curveballs and occasionally we get knocked down. I think one measure of success is getting up. I congratulate you for deciding to fulfill the dream of you and your wife by traveling the world.

I would like to join you on that journey or at least a small part of it.

Your terms are acceptable to me and I met your requirements. I am a twenty-five-year-old woman who is physically able to travel and not daunted by going to a nude beach or sharing your bed. I do have two conditions. One is to bring along my forty-five-year-old mother and the second is meeting with you before I commit.

Attached is a recent photo and a copy of my driver's license."

Jan hit send and then got up and set the table. She and her mother had an enjoyable meal. As her mother prepared to leave she said, "Let me know when WE meet the traveler."

Jan was not surprised. She answered, "Will do."

^^^

Monday morning at 7:00 a.m., Sam sat down and booted up his computer. He was an early riser. He had been all his life. He sipped his coffee as he opened one of his e-mail accounts. He began clicking on the responses he'd gotten from his post on the Philadelphia version of Craigslist.

"Ah. Let's see what we have," he spoke out loud to himself. That was a habit he'd developed recently. Talking to himself seemed better than experiencing the complete silence that enveloped him every day in his big, empty house.

"Rubbish," he said as he opened and read the first response.

The next one and most that followed were equally unsuitable. Sam was not surprised. He knew his ad was unusual. It drew many insincere replies. He suspected some were from teenage boys having fun since they signed their letters with names like Dee Generate, Miss Creant, M. Moral, and D. V. Ant. He chuckled at their inventiveness.

"Ah. This one has possibilities," he said as he read Jan's response.

The note was short. It had a ring of authenticity and she was the only one to have included a copy of a driver's license.

"Let's see," he said as he looked at her license. "5' 6", 137 pounds. Black hair. Green eyes. Nice. She's pretty."

He sent her a response.

^^^

Jan had a hectic day at work on Monday. When she got home, the first thing she did was kick off her shoes. Next, she removed her bra.

"Ahh," she exclaimed as she unhooked and tossed her bra on the bed. "Oh God! That's better."

She put on a soft tee shirt and fixed herself a drink. She sat down and checked Facebook and caught up with her friends. She ate left-overs and then opened her e-mail.

"Oh."

She was surprised to see one from WorldTraveler. Suddenly, she was nervous. She clicked and read it.

Hello, Thank you for your response. I think your suggestion of a face to face meeting is a good one. We could meet for coffee. Bring your mom. What do you think of a Caribbean excursion in mid-February? We could get away from Pennsylvania's rotten weather and we would have a good answer for people who ask 'And what are you doing for Valentine's Day?' Do you and your mother have passports? I was thinking we could go to the Club Orient in St. Martin. Orient Beach looks fantastic. Since you sent me a photo, I have attached one. Sam

Jan opened the attachment.

"He doesn't look like an ax murderer," she said and then giggled.

She saw an ordinary man. Not movie star handsome, but not ugly either. He looked to be in his forties. His brown hair was cut short. He had some gray on his temples. The picture wasn't sharp enough to show her the color of his eyes. He was an ordinary guy wearing ordinary clothes. It looked like he was at a casual get-together. He was standing beside a grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other.

"He looks like a nice guy, but I've been fooled before," she said.

"Wait. What am I talking about? This isn't someone I'm considering dating. This is someone who might pay for a nice vacation. I should hope he's polite, punctual and that he showers regularly.

"Where should we meet? Certainly, not the Starbucks down the street."

She started laughing. "What? Am I worried he might be a stalker? I sent him a copy of my driver's license! He already knows my real name and home address."

She typed him a short reply.

"Sam, How about 2:00 p.m. this Saturday at the Starbucks on Chestnut Street? I'll be the woman wearing a red beret. Jan"

^^^

A man wearing a red shirt stood up when Jan and Isabella walked into the coffee shop. He waved. Jan recognized Sam and waved back. He came over and said, "Hello. I'm Sam Spears. Nice beret."

He extended his hand. She shook it and said, "Hi, I'm Jan and this is my mother Isabella."

"Charmed," he said. He smiled and shook Isabella's hand.

"Get your coffee," he suggested. "I have a table in the back."

He returned to his table. The ladies got their drinks and joined him.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" he said.

Jan was nervous. Sweat ran down the sides of her body. "Yes. Weird like a blind date."

"I'm glad your mother was able to join us."

The women smiled in response, but their guard was still up. Sam had expected that. He showed no signs of being insulted or surprised by their wariness.

He said, "Let me tell you my story. My wife, Marie, died five years ago, we had been married for twenty years. We had no children. We planned on it, but Marie became ill and well, there wasn't time.

"We met when she came to work for my company. We do cloud-based data systems for hospitals. She was bright and energetic. She was one of those people who could light up a room by just walking in."

Sam paused remembering her.

"Sorry," he said. "We had fabulous plans, so many plans. Children, growing old together and traveling the world. But, as I said, she got sick. Everything got put off, postponed and then she died. Most of our plans were never fulfilled.

"Before she died, she made me promise to travel. She suggested I find someone and do all the things and go to all the places we had talked about."

He stopped speaking suddenly as his emotions overwhelmed him.

Jan's heart went out to him. She reached across the table and held his hand. She wanted him to know she felt his grief. He looked down at her hand. He was surprised and touched. He placed his other hand over her hand and said, "Thanks."