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The Language Barrierthis story is part of the FanClub (fm:older women/men, 2227 words)

Author: Signet
Added: Aug 08 2001Views / Reads: 8180 / 7092 [87%]Story vote: 9.00 (2 votes)
A young man traveling alone in Italy finds the true meaning of hospitality.
 


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It wasn't the nicest hotel in the world, but I had seen worse. Southern Italy is poor, by Western standards, and the hotel I'd found was cheap but not dirty. That was all I cared about.

I was in a small town on the southern coast of Sicily, and it was early July. After three hot weeks of museums and expensive cities in other parts of Europe, I was ready for a warm beach, the blue waters of the Mediterranean, and the 'vacation' part of my trip.

The proprietress was a middle-aged woman, perhaps in her 40s but not younger, and still very attractive. Her large breasts were evident under her thin summer blouse, and I couldn't help but to notice the dark line of cleavage that ran between them and disappeared beneath the fabric. She had dark eyes and fair skin, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a way I can only describe as matronly. I wondered about her family life, her home, her story, and too many cliches from old Italian movies popped into my head.

I paid in advance for a week's stay, and she asked me to follow her to the room so she could show me where everything was. The hotel was old; there were a few rooms on each of the three floors, and each of the floors shared just one bathroom. Since it was the busiest season of the year, my room was tucked away in the farthest corner of the building. As we approached the room, I heard the sound of a baby crying. The proprietress hurried and excused herself as she rushed just past my ...

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