Date: Sat, 15 Jun 2019 17:08:21 +0000 (UTC)
From: Dave <nvtahoeus@yahoo.com>
Subject: Finding Myself Again in Europe (Part 1)

This is my first Nifty story since 2016 and follows a young man on his
quest to recover from the premature loss of his husband by retracing some
of their earlier European destinations.  It'll start out a little dark, but
it will brighten before long.  Be patient!

I'll make you a deal, gentle reader - I'll try to give you a good read and
you send me your feedback and tell me what you think.  Agreed?

No minors were harmed in the writing of this story, but if you are one
please go find something else to do.  Please do not reproduce this story in
any form without the permission of the author.

Damian
nvtahoeus@yahoo.com


FINDING MYSELF AGAIN IN EUROPE

Part 1

As my plane was roaring down the Washington Dulles runway and then lifting
off into the air, I was having conflicting feelings of sadness and euphoria
– sadness that my long-time love wasn't sitting beside me, and euphoria
that my recent struggles with his premature illness and passing, and
especially with his combative parents, were finally behind me.  I was off
to Europe by myself, where I hoped to finally find some closure and peace
of mind.

As it turned out, I found all that and much more.

Graham and I had been partners – and more recently legal spouses –
for more than 10 years.  He was my life, and he had been taken from me much
too soon.  With me lying beside him in our own bed one night almost six
months ago – 10 days before Christmas – he had silently lost his long
struggle with incurable cancer.

My loss was nearly indescribable – I had loved him with all my heart and
soul, and we had shared every wonderful thing that two men could possibly
share.

When he finally passed, it was all I could do to put one foot in front of
the other to go to work and to do all the things that one must do when he
loses a spouse.  Unless you've been through it, you have no idea how many
details one must attend to.

His parents were no help at all.  In fact, they were a hindrance, pure and
simple.  We had had an okay relationship with them for most of our 10
years, including regular holiday meals together at our house or theirs, but
upon his death they wanted and expected to take over.

His mother in particular was a constant source of irritation.  She wanted
her only son buried in the family plot, but Graham had always insisted on
being cremated.  It was even in writing in a legal document, but she
refused to acknowledge it.  When I had his body cremated shortly after his
death, she hit the roof and blamed me for going behind her back.

Then she wanted to come in and claim half of what was in our house,
although 90 percent of it were things that we had purchased together and
legally belonged to me.  I gave her a few token things, but she wasn't
satisfied.  I had to literally change the locks on the house to keep her
and Graham's father from cleaning me out.

As soon as I could, I sold the house and most of the contents and moved to
an apartment in a Virginia suburb just outside of Washington, DC to try to
start the rest of my life over at the tender age of only 34.  My parents
and my two siblings were totally supportive, and that's what kept me going.

But it was still so very tough!  I was depressed and anxious over my future
and even contemplated ending it all.  Fortunately, my family and my friends
kept me from doing such a stupid thing, and I'll be forever grateful to all
of them.


Six months after Graham's untimely passing, in June 2017, I decided to take
a leave of absence from my job as a software designer to go on a six-week
trip to Europe, which had always been our favorite destination.  I didn't
even try to find anyone else to go with me – I felt I needed some R & R
all by myself.  I planned to revisit some of our favorite places, as well
as see some new ones.

I would start in Scandinavia, which had been Graham's and my first European
destination.  That had been a 10-day tour of Copenhagen, Oslo, and
Stockholm in December eight years ago.  Who goes there in December?  Hey,
it was cheaper then, and we were on a tight budget.

We soon discovered that daylight is scarce there at that time of year.  It
was dark until 9 a.m., full daylight not until 10, dusky at 3 p.m., and
dark again by 4.  Adding to that narrow window of daylight was the near
absence of sun.  In 10 days we had only half a day of semi-sun in Oslo.  At
least the snow there was beautiful, but when we arrived in Stockholm –
that very walkable city of beautiful islands – it was rainy and
miserably cold.

This time I went in early summer, and it was wonderful in all three
countries – Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.  Sunny, warm, and – although
very expensive – inviting.  A large part of my enjoyment in Copenhagen
was the unexpected companionship of my very handsome flight attendant on
the trip from DC to Copenhagen.

Carl was the consummate professional on the whole flight, but every time I
looked at him he seemed to be looking back – surreptitiously, of course.
It started at the door of the plane.  His smile, the light in his eyes, and
his warm greeting instantly told me that he found me attractive, and it was
certainly mutual.  It was the first time since Graham's death that I had
felt such instant attraction to another man.

I had splurged for a ticket in business class for the first time ever.
During takeoff, Carl was in his jump seat facing me, and I detected a
slight smile and a twinkle in his eye.  Later it seemed that he was walking
by my aisle seat quite frequently, once or twice brushing against my elbow
(oops – did I have anything to do with that?).

In the middle of the flight, as most passengers were sleeping, I got up to
stretch and use the restroom.  When I came out, I was near the galley and
decided to see if I could get a cup of water, hoping perhaps that I would
find Carl alone for a bit.  As luck would have it, he was there tidying up.
No one else was around.

"Could I possibly have a cup of water, Carl?"  I knew his name from his
nametag from the moment I had boarded.  He probably had noticed me reading
it.

"Of course," he said with a warm smile.  Our hands touched briefly as he
passed it to me.  Even that little bit of contact was thrilling to me after
months of male skin-to-skin deprivation.  The way he continued to smile at
me, I was sure the touching was no accident.

"Do you live in DC?" he asked.

"Yes.  I'm on my way for a few weeks in Europe.  Where are you based,
Carl?"

"In Copenhagen.  You know my name – may I ask yours?"

"It's Nate – short for Nathan, but no one's called me that in a long
time – except my mother, of course."

"Traveling alone, Nate?"

"Yes – it's the first time, but I thought I'd give it a go and see how I
like it."

Wanting to keep the mood light, I chose not to go into the whys and
wherefores of that decision.

"Well, I certainly wish you a wonderful time.  Nice to have you onboard,"
he said, turning back to his galley work.

"Thanks, Carl," I said as I reluctantly returned to my seat.  I could feel
my pulse rate spiking a bit as he gave me one last smile.

We landed at 6:20 a.m., about the same time Graham and I had landed in the
same city several years ago.  Then it was dark.  This time, blessedly, the
sun was already shining brightly.

I don't usually shake hands with a flight attendant when deboarding, but I
made an exception as I walked by Carl, thanking him for his good service.
We looked longingly at each other, and I thought that would be the end of
it.  I was wrong.

Fortunately, we met up again in baggage claim.  My bag still hadn't
appeared, although it looked like no more were coming around the empty
carousel.

"Hello again, Nate," he said as he was walking by me, pulling his small
wheeled bag.  "Still waiting for your luggage?"

"Oh, hi.  Yes, it seems to have vanished.  I didn't expect to see you
again, Carl.  Are you off duty now?"

"Yes, I finally have a few days off.  Is this your first time in
Copenhagen, Nate?"

"No, actually it's my second.  My husband Graham – late husband, that is
– and I were here a few years ago for three days.  It was in December,
so we didn't see much daylight."

"Well, this time of year you certainly will.  I'm sorry about your husband.
How long ago did he pass?"

"It's been six months.  I finally feel like traveling again, so – like I
said – I'm here by myself this time.  Luggage-free, it looks like,
unfortunately."

"Let me take you over to the office that handles delayed baggage.  I know a
fellow there who'll track it down for you, if he's on duty.  If not, anyone
there can help you."

"Thanks, Carl.  But if you're in a hurry, I can manage."

"Nonsense, Nate.  Glad to help.  I've got nowhere to go but home, and no
one's waiting for me."

"Too bad.  Someone should be."

"What do you mean?" he said, looking puzzled.

Suddenly I felt flustered at my rather blunt remark.  I'm not usually that
forward.

"Uh, well, it's just that I'd think a guy like you...I mean, I'm just
surprised, I guess, that you're implying that you, uh, live alone.  I mean
in the U.S. you'd be quite a catch," I said, managing a grin.  Now it was
Carl's turn to blush.

"Well, thanks, I guess.  I've never been called a `catch' before – we
Danes don't use that expression much."

Suddenly I felt hot in my chest, and a thrilling feeling was filling my
long-neglected groin.  Was this being disloyal to Graham?  Surely he would
understand.  Wouldn't he?

"Uh, well, pardon my forwardness, Carl.  Where's that office you
mentioned?"

"No problem – you flatter me, Nate.  It's over here."

Carl took me to see his friend Felix who worked in lost luggage, and he
stayed with me while I filled out the necessary paperwork to trace it.  I
was glad he did, although I wondered why.  I didn't have to wonder for
long.

"I have a reservation at a place nearby.  Let me dig out the information,"
I said, about to pull open my carry-on bag.

"He'll be staying at my place, Felix," Carl said with a wink to his friend,
and he gave him his address and phone number.  I was gobsmacked!

"Thanks, Carl, but you don't have to do that.  I don't want to put you out
– we've barely met."

"I'd be very happy for you to stay with me till your bag is found, Nate.  I
have plenty of room, and I would enjoy your company."

"Well, thanks.  I appreciate your offer, but aren't you tired from working
all night?"

"Yes, I plan to get some sleep soon, but you're welcome to hang out at my
place for however long it takes to find your bag.  You seem like a nice
man."

I hadn't slept much on the plane myself, so I was ready to catch a few
winks before seeing any of the city.  I wondered if Carl had two beds –
and hoping he didn't.  With any luck, I thought, my bag wouldn't be found
too soon.

"You are too, Carl.  I can't believe you'd take me in just like that."  "In
my line of work, I'm a good judge of character.  No worries on my part."

The Uber ride to Carl's place was not long.  All the way there I marveled
at his unexpected hospitality and wondered if anything would come of it.
He was the most exciting man I had met in a long time, and his manner put
me at ease.  At the same time, I was thinking wistfully about Graham.

Carl's apartment was on the third floor of a modern building not far from
Tivoli Gardens.  As we rode up in the elevator, I got a bit nervous, but
Carl carried on conversation like we were already friends.  Suddenly we
were at his door.

"Here we are – please come in.  Would you like some coffee or anything?
I think I have some frozen toaster waffles.  We could have a bite before we
rest."

"Thanks," I said, looking around.  I had looked about most of his apartment
already and noted that I saw only one bedroom – with one large bed in
it.

After our simple breakfast, it was apparent that we were both flagging from
the long flight from DC, but I felt too grungy to just lie down
immediately.

"Would you mind if I took a quick shower, Carl?"

"Of course not, Nate.  I need one, too.  Let's take your carry-on bag to my
bedroom and we can get out of these clothes and clean up.  You can wear
something of mine after our shower."

Our shower?  Singular?  Not showers?  Welcome to Copenhagen, I thought, as
my cock twitched – something it hadn't done much of lately.

I had spent half the flight from DC mentally separating Carl from his
uniform, and the next thing I knew it was now hanging up in his closet and
he was standing there in just his boxers.  Then he whipped those off and
was completely nude in front of me.  My earlier imaginings paled next to
the reality.  His body was magnificent – slender but muscular, with
little hair.  I drank it in with my eyes, not even bothering to be discreet
about it.

I was still in my undies when he threw me a clean towel and started toward
the bathroom with one over his shoulder.

"Well, are you coming?"

I will be pretty soon if I jump in the shower with you, I thought.  Oh,
well – when in Denmark...

I followed that gorgeous rear end gladly.

He had a large walk-in tub-less shower area with just enough room for two,
and I was happy to be one of them.  As we soaped up barehanded, it was
obvious that we were both gladly enjoying the view of each other's bodies.
Carl's uncut 8-incher wasn't quite at 90 degrees from his body, but it
wasn't far from it.  He was clearly more than a bit erect.  A glance down
at my cut 7-inch member revealed that I was, to my slight embarrassment,
likewise levitating noticeably.

"You have a wonderful body, Nate, if I may say so."

You certainly may, I thought.  "Glad you think so – so do you."

"Would you mind washing my back?" he added.

Mind?  Who, me?

Carl's hairless back felt wonderful to me as I took my time washing it –
and enjoying every muscle and curve.  I thought I heard a slight gasp from
him as I washed the back of his neck – a very sensitive area for most
guys.  I even used my thumbs a bit in an effort to relax the tension that I
felt there.  Was it from working the long overnight flight, or might it be
from my unplanned presence?

He hadn't invited me to wash him below the belt, so I reluctantly didn't
– except for maybe just a little on the outside of his hips.  I would've
loved to go farther.

"Thank you, Nate.  Now may I reciprocate?"

"Please," I said, turning around to face the wall.

As Carl's hands caressed and massaged my tired back, I felt the tension in
it wash down the drain like the soap subs.  I also felt goosebumps – it
was amazing.  Like I did to him, he washed all the way down to the outside
of my hips.  He paused there, seeming to want to go farther.  But we were
still two virtual strangers testing our limits and not wanting to spoil the
moment with a possibly premature touch.

We finished washing ourselves, cocks bobbing away the whole time with
neither of us verbally acknowledging the obvious.  Once in a while I would
look up at his face and see a shy smile, his eyes raking my body.  We
toweled ourselves dry but helped each other dry our backs.  Then we hung up
our wet towels and walked back to his bedroom naked.  I wondered what might
happen next, but it was clear we were both too exhausted to do anything but
sleep.  Carl slipped into a pair of clean boxers and handed one to me.  I
usually sleep nude, but I followed his lead and pretty soon both of us were
fast asleep on his queen-size bed.

Carl had set his alarm for 5 p.m., giving us plenty of time to catch up on
our sleep before dinnertime.  I woke up shortly before that time, and I
watched the sleeping beauty next to me as his chest rose and fell with his
somnambulant breathing.  His cock was making a big lump under the sheet.
Was he dreaming about me?

It had been half a year since I'd occupied a bed with anyone but me in it,
and I have to admit that I liked it – a lot.  I wanted desperately to
touch him again.

Suddenly I couldn't stop an unexpected sneeze.  It woke him up, and he
looked over at me with a "Gesundheit, my friend.  Did you have a good
sleep?"  He touched me briefly on the arm as he said it.

"Oh, yes, I sure did," I said as a reached for a tissue to blow my nose.

"And you?"

"Yes.  As an overseas flight attendant, I've learned to stay awake when I
have to and sleep when I can.  What would you say to getting dressed and
finding a nice, quiet place to have a drink and some dinner?"

"Only if you'll let me treat, Carl.  It's the least I can do to thank you
for your kind hospitality."

"I would gladly accept that.  I would take a little kiss, too, if you don't
mind," he said with a grin.

OMG, yes!

I smiled, leaned over, and did what I'd been wanting to do ever since I
first saw him, kissing him softly, with my hand on his cheek.  It wasn't a
passionate kiss, but more like a gentle kiss between new friends who had
discovered one another and wanted to show some affection.

"I'm glad we've met, Carl."

"Yes, I think it was meant to be, my friend.  But if you don't let me up
now, I think we might miss dinner."

I tousled his hair and threw the sheet off of us.  Still in just his
boxers, he peeked out his door to see if my bag had arrived, but not yet.
That was okay with me.  The longer it took for my bag to arrive, the longer
I could reasonably stay with him.  And I was in no hurry to leave, believe
me!

Carl rummaged through his closet and found a shirt and some jeans for both
of us.  Fortunately, we were of similar size, although his jeans were a
little tight on me, especially with what was still hard between my legs
from the excitement of occupying his bed with him and kissing him.

We had a wonderful dinner in a quiet little café in Tivoli Gardens,
where Carl had an annual pass.  I can't even tell you what I had because my
entire focus was on my new Danish friend.  His smile and his gorgeous blue
eyes captivated me.

I learned that he was 28 years old – six years younger than I – and
that he'd lived in Copenhagen for most of his life.  He'd been out for a
few years but had yet to find any relationship that had lasted for more
than a few months.  His latest breakup had occurred four months ago and had
been quite painful for him.  He was still mourning it, much as I was
mourning the loss of my beloved Graham.

Carl had worked as a flight attendant for the past five years, mostly
flying between Copenhagen, Miami, and Chicago, with occasional legs to
Amsterdam, London, Washington Dulles, Boston, and JFK in New York.  He said
it had been a mostly humdrum work experience – until I came along.  I
was dubious about that, but flattered nonetheless.

The food and the wine had had a delicious effect on my mood, and I was very
mellow by the time we got back to his apartment.  We were both ready for
another long sleep, but – to my considerable annoyance – my lost bag
was outside his door when we got home.  Drat!  There was no more reason for
me to linger there, much as I wanted to.  From the look on his face, I felt
that Carl was on the same wavelength.

"Well, there's your bag, Nate.  But no rush.  Let's have another good night
of sleep before you go on your way."

This time I made a point to go to bed au naturel, and Carl followed my
lead.  Instead of falling asleep right away, we cuddled with each other for
a while.  I held his body next to me, spooned so that his rump was next to
my hard cock.  I kissed him gently on the neck while tracing my fingers on
his hardening nipples, as he moaned in appreciation.  He scooted tightly to
me as I did this, indicating to me his openness to such intimate contact.

He turned and faced me, and we kissed again – this time with more
passion than before.  He soon turned his body 180 degrees so that his lips
were on my cock and mine were on his.  It was gentle and prolonged, and I
enjoyed it more than I can say.  For the first time in months I came in the
presence of another human being, and I eagerly swallowed what my handsome
bedmate had to offer in return.

Forgive me, Graham, but this just seemed so right!


The next thing I knew, it was morning.  There was no more reason for me to
stay, except that I didn't really want to go.  Carl was still off duty for
two more days, so we decided to tour Copenhagen and vicinity and continue
to enjoy each other's company – in and out of bed – knowing that this
was, sadly, only temporary.

Finally, it was time for him to go back to work – and for me to be on my
way.  I could barely say good-bye to him, as it had been such a wonderful
experience sharing his apartment – and his bed.  But I had plans, and he
had obligations, so we parted tearfully with a sweet kiss and promised to
stay in touch.

Before I left, he put one of his Transatlantic Airlines pins in my hand and
told me to think of him and remember our too-brief time together.  I did
– for the whole rest of my time in Europe and beyond.


Traveling alone, I soon learned, has its advantages and disadvantages.  You
don't have to negotiate with anyone as to where to go, what to see, what to
eat, and where to sleep – it's all up to you!  The downside is the
insidious loneliness that gnaws on you increasingly as the days go by.

Mealtime was the worst for me.  I've never enjoyed eating alone, trying to
appear content to others around you while you're feeling anything but.  On
the overnight ferry from Copenhagen to Oslo, I did manage to find another
man to talk to for a while over dinner.  He was a Norwegian farmer, so we
didn't find a lot of common ground, so to speak.  He was no substitute for
Carl, but it was better than nothing.

Oslo was much more beautiful and enjoyable in June than it had been in
December, for obvious reasons.  I especially enjoyed Frogner Park with its
well-known Vigeland sculptures, but all the ones of naked men just reminded
me of my time with Carl, which was apparently over now.

From there I went on to Stockholm, which is one of the most beautiful
cities in the world.  It consists of a number of islands and has some
majestic architecture.  It had been a long, long time since I had been to a
gay bathhouse, but Stockholm had one near my lodging, so I decided on a
whim to go there one evening.  I didn't click with anyone in particular,
but I certainly appreciated how well-hung those Swedish men were.  I had to
go back the next night just to be sure – ha!

From Stockholm I flew to Frankfurt and picked up a rental car so that I
could explore some rural areas as well as the big cities.  It was a good
decision.

I made a return visit to the charming walled town of Rothenburg, where
Graham and I had once taken a night watchman's tour and attended a Lutheran
church service.  We didn't understand a word of the German, but the music
was wonderful.  So I did all that again.  Going to Rothenburg is like
walking back into medieval times.

It was fun randomly driving through other Bavarian villages and seeing
Neuschwanstein castle again.  Such magnificent scenery, but I really missed
having Graham along this time.

I stayed in a variety of lodgings – hostels, zimmers, pensions, small
inns, etc. – which always provided me with a nice breakfast.  Lunch was
usually outdoors and consisted of some bread and cheese and fruit picked up
at a grocery store, washed down with the local wine.

As much as I could, I would have dinner in a locally popular restaurant
recommended to me by my lodging proprietor.  These often afforded me the
chance to eat community-style at big tables, where I would attempt some
conversation in English – to the extent that my tablemates knew it.
When that didn't work, we used sign language, maps, and smiles to
communicate.

I seldom made a lodging reservation, preferring instead to "wing it" and
hope for a vacancy wherever I wound up that day.  That usually worked very
well, except for one night southwest of Munich.  After visiting the Andechs
Monastery, where the monks make their own beer for sale (and perhaps their
personal consumption, of course), I had indulged in one beer too many.  As
I drove toward Munich in the dark, I wasn't sure if I would ever find a
place to sleep.  Finally, when it was nearly dark, I spotted a small
country hotel, which fortunately had a vacancy.  It was the closest I ever
came to having to spend the night in my car.

I didn't want to drive in Munich, so I parked in a nearby town and took a
train into the city for a few hours.  On the return train trip, I sat
across from a young American man who was, like me, traveling alone.  His
name was Barry, and he was a 24-year-old graduate student at the University
of Washington who was traveling by train all over Europe alone.  He was
quite friendly, and we seemed to hit it off nicely.  I invited him to have
dinner with me, and he readily agreed.  I was quite attracted to him, but
– due to our age difference – I tried to play it cool and pretend
that I had no particular sexual interest in him (although I must say I
did).

As we ate and drank, it became apparent to me that Barry hadn't yet settled
on a place to stay for the night.  I had, so I invited him to share the
space that I had booked before going to Munich, the same place I had stayed
the night before.  Although I offered to pay for it all myself, I subtly
made sure he knew that there were no "strings" attached.  I didn't want him
to think that he had to "put out" just to share a place with me.

By the time we checked in, we were both a little "in our cups" from the
bottle of German wine we shared over dinner.  Barry stripped off right away
in front of me and headed for the shower.  I held back and waited for him
to finish before I did the same.

After his shower, he crawled nude into one of the two beds in the room and
promptly went to sleep.  I took a leisurely shower alone, brushed my teeth,
and was in my bed within half an hour.

Shortly after I turned out my light, I heard a soft voice saying to me,

"Nate?"

"Yes, Barry?"  He apparently wasn't as deeply asleep as I thought.  "Can I
snuggle up with you for a while?  It's kinda lonely over here."  OMG!  I
hadn't expected that.

"Sure, if you want to, Barry."

Next thing I knew he was padding over to my bed in the dark and searching
for me with his hands.  The guy hadn't given me any kind of clue of such
interest beforehand, but he was all over me in seconds.  I hadn't been with
a guy this young in quite a long time and found it quite exhilarating.  He
was no Carl, but he was cute and knew a thing or two about how to please a
man.

The next morning Barry was still in my bed fast asleep.  The sheets were a
little worse for wear from our earlier "activity," but I was feeling great
– and quite flattered that a young hottie like Barry had wanted me as
much as I had secretly wanted him.  Who knew?

We had breakfast together, and then I drove him to the nearest train
station.  He was headed to Berlin, and I was headed in the other direction
for Austria.  At the train station, he leaned over and gave me a peck on
the cheek.

"Thanks for last night, Nate.  I'm glad we met up.  I appreciate the free
lodging last night – and all that went with it.  I think you're hot."

That comment made my day – no, my whole week.  I had enjoyed my travels
so far, but my European adventures had only begun.


(To be continued in Part 2.  Please let me know how you felt about Part 1.
Send me a message at nvtahoeus@yahoo.com.  Thanks!  Damian)