I love London. One, they speak English, and proper sexy English. Two, the guys are good-looking and the women really aren’t, so the competition is non-existent. Three, it reminds me of Manhattan. And four, pretty much every book or movie I like is placed in London so it will forever have my heart. If I was to live anywhere else than Manhattan then it would be London.
I went to London with my mom years ago and did the normal tourist attractions. I had fun and was happy to be there with my mum (as the British would say) but a vacation with a parent is not the same as going with a lover. With a significant lover, every attraction looks different, every meal has a magically feeling, and every day has a sense of romance.
Going back the second time with my Brit didn’t seem like I was a tourist, but just returning home with my man. It was during Wimbledon and we just had lunches at pubs (doesn’t that sound a lot better than a bar), drank and cheered with the locals. We had dinner one night with my Brit’s friend and I felt like I was welcomed. We walked around the city, and I listened to stories of my Brit’s past. That trip, I felt closer to my man than I ever had.
We didn’t need to go sightseeing because I already saw everything with my mom and he’s from there so it was not needed. Instead, he took me to the local hangouts and I saw London from a different point of view.
If we didn’t have dinner out, my Brit’s sister in-law cooked delicious meals for us. Practically every night I read to my Brit’s nephew while he read to his niece before bed.
It wasn’t really a vacation, even though I didn’t have to work and ate a lot (as usual) but it did remind me of boot camp. I had to be on my best behavior because I knew I was being judged, by his family and friends… and maybe even him, to see how well I did with his home away from home. We woke up early and went to bed late. The kids still had school so before they left at around seven in the morning, they would storm in our room (because it was a no locked rooms home) and jumped on the bed, the very tiny bed which meant they were jumping on our backs and chests.
And, once you are jumped on, you are awake. So no sleeping late for me… and I freaking love sleep. So that was our routine every morning, getting jumped on, awake with aches from little feet and hands pounding on you, and going down to breakfast where your man makes you the most yummy toast and butter you have ever eaten.
I felt comfortable with the family but not super comfortable meaning I had to plan my bathroom time like I was figuring out a football play. I made sure to go while everyone thought I was taking long showers and public bathrooms became my home away from home. And, my Brit had to know what was going down in those bathrooms because every time we went out, I paid the bathroom a visit, as if it was a tourist attraction.
I enjoyed his family so much that I was starting to picture a life there for my Brit and I, maybe because we did the “normal stuff” as well as “vacation stuff” meaning besides going out for meals and gorging on food and wine, we also dropped by the kids’ school for lunch to surprise them, take them to the movies, and like I said before, read to them every night.
We bought the family gifts as a thank you for letting us stay in their home for a week, a Jamie Oliver cook book and her favorite expensive jam for the sister in-law, which was a gift for the brother in-law because we made his wife happy, Hedwig stuffed animal from Harry Potter for the niece, and some Iron Man super toy for the nephew. I knew I was winning the family over, I mean I even got my Brit’s brother’s and sister in-law’s mobile numbers so we can text whenever.
The last day we were there, my Brit’s parents came in to see him and meet me. I was so nervous but when we came down for breakfast they welcomed me warm smiles and hugs. I was quiet during that meal, just wanting to gage the parents’ attitudes.
The parents wanted to take the family to lunch so I was panicking with what I was going to wear. I wanted to make a good impression and didn’t want to offend them in any way, especially with my big tits and fat ass. My Brit didn’t want that either because he knows how out of control my big tits can get, always wanting attention (greedy bastards) so he helped me pick out a midi skirt and top that covered the tits.
We went to a tourist attraction in the brother’s town, a mansion like home that was one of the queen’s. We had a nice lunch and walked around, talking, viewing, and shopping. We even all took pictures together… and I made it on their wall of family pictures!
But for some reason I felt uneasy around them, maybe because I want this relationship to work and know the influence of parents could wreck it. Plus, I know I am a smart lady but they seemed so intelligent and with my Long Island accent I didn’t want to say anything wrong or sound dumb. I mean they both were professors back in the day, so they could probably school me. Also, maybe because of those accents they just seem smarter too.
That’s all for this post. Will post part 3 shortly. You can email me with any questions or comments at firstname.lastname@example.org