Trip to the Worlds Fair – 1958, Part 4

After breakfast the next day, all of us piled into our two cars and headed back to the fairgrounds.  The parking, as usual, was chaotic but we finally managed to park together way at the back of the dusty lot.  By the time we got to the entrance gate we were already tired and thirsty.

The parents split off again leaving us kids to our own devices so we took off for the nearest place we could get something to drink.  As it turned out, the Belgian Congo exposition was the nearest and they had a sort of coconut drink that was very refreshing – also expensive.  We all had two of the milky drinks before we moved on.

Next on our agenda was the cable ride over (or actually beside) the Atomium.  It was a simple end-to-end lift with little round cars that seated four.  The cables actually ran through the open structure of the Atomium so you approached it, dove through, and popped out the other side.

After that ride, we queued up for almost an hour wait to get enter the Atomium.  Once inside, you had to be a hardy soul because there were elevators, but they were only for the sick and infirm.  We managed to huff and puff our way into one of the upper bells but decided to go no further.  I’d climbed to the top of the Washington Monument and had no desire to do that again.  After spending a while looking out the portholes at the entire fair grounds we left and took the tram to the Soviet Building.

Except for the French and the United States buildings, the USSR had probably the largest building on the grounds.  It was immense and held all sorts of interesting displays.  There was the obligatory huge statue of Lenin but what caught my eye was the replica of Sputnik in the aviation section.  There were also sections on agriculture, machines of all description, and a car assembly line.

By contrast, the US building was quite different.  It had wide tree-lined areas where periodically a fashion show would be held; demonstrations of “future homes” which had great expectations, but just didn’t pan out; a lot of fountains with synchronized water spouts; and, finally, a glass-walled booth with “Waldo” controls in them so that they could reach out and tap people on the shoulder and the like.  Waldoes are the name given to the remote control arms used mostly in nuclear laboratories to handle dangerous items.  One guy manning the controls was so good that he could lift a person’s wallet right out of their back pocket – with that person’s permission that is.

The three of us began to crash around three in the afternoon and began searching for another café. We found one at the US pavilion and rested our weary feet.  After a short burst of rapid-fire French, Adrianne told me that they were planning on leaving this evening for home.  Colombe looked sad at this announcement, but I guess she knew it all along.  In silence we trekked back to our meeting place for the trip back to camp.

Adrianne headed for the beach again while Colombe and I walked towards the boat rental place.  This time we just got a swan pedal boat and aimlessly wandered the lake.  At one point, we ended up on the little island but there were so many people on it we couldn’t be alone.  By the time our hour was up both of us were pretty frustrated at our attempts to get off by ourselves.

As the sun fell towards the horizon, we chanced on a perfect place.  There was a large structure that sat off to the side near a wooded area.  From the front it appeared to reach the ground, but when approached from the back through the woods you could see that it was supported about six feet from the ground on pilings.  There was a door in the lattice held by a simply hook which, when opened, allowed us to get under the building.

We worked our way deeper under the building until outside noises faded and we were completely screened from view.  When I threw down our ever-present blanket Colombe sat and then lay back reaching out to me with her hand.  When I took it, she pulled hard and I dropped down near her.  She began immediately raining kisses all over my face and neck.  Not to be outdone, I returned her effort myself.  Kisses and caresses became more and more serious until we were both panting for breath.

In the process, her blouse had become unbuttoned and her bra removed.  My shirt was gone completely and my belt unfastened.  She lay on her back and, while holding my gaze with those incredibly blue eyes, lifted her hips and pulled her Capri pants down to her knees.  I removed them completely and put them aside.

She reached out and found my erection and was in the process of liberating it when I stopped her for a second.  She looked puzzled at me until I held up a foil packet I had taken from my dad’s shaving kit the other day.  All she could say was “Bon!”  And she wasn’t kidding.  I ripped it open and we both rolled it down.

I rapidly removed my shoes and pulled my clothing the rest of the way off.  When I bent over and began kissing her breasts she closed her eyes and started humming to herself.  She hadn’t let go of me though and while I kissed lower and lower, she did a slow stroke that drove me wild.

I finally had reached a turning point and pulled the elastic of her panties away and down her legs.  I rolled over her and between the two of us our bodies met, and joined.  It happened so rapidly that her eyes flew open and she gasped once and recovered enough to begin pulling on my hips as she raised her knees.  Silence punctuated by kisses, sighs, gasps, and an occasional word in English and French ensued as we melted into each other.

Once she rolled me over to be on top for a while and then let me roll her back over as our passion erupted into a mutual climax.  She bit my shoulder again, much harder this time, to keep from crying out; I had to let out a small shout as she did.  Finally, and much too soon, it was over and we lay back in the afterglow gasping for air.

Slowly we got dressed, shook out the blanket, and made our way to the door.  Just before we opened it, she kissed me deeply and thanked me once more for the wonderful time.  She would be leaving in an hour or so and I would never see her again.  I’d have the memories though for the rest of my life.

Hand in hand we walked back to our tents and rejoined the others for dinner.  Conversation was relative light, but quiet, as we finished supper and they went off to pack up their car.  As the got ready to leave, Adrianne and Colombe both came over and kissed me; the former with a tiny bit of tongue and the latter with a lot of tongue.  She was a hell of a kisser.  Both turned, got into the car, and they drove off.  I had an address and a telephone number but I wasn’t sure I would ever write or call.  One never knew though.

We left Brussels the next afternoon and went back to Stadt.  It was a very quiet trip except when my mom noticed that the little bite mark had a twin on the other side.  She didn’t really say anything, but I could hear wheels turn as she mulled that one over.  I wasn’t ready to lie to my parents about what had happened so I was thankful that neither one of them asked.

All told, it was a hell of a trip to the Worlds Fair.



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