Cultural Exchange 6 - Take Off (Patreon)

After that moment, my days became routine in a sort of exciting way. Clara and I had wine calls almost every day. Nudity wasn't always the norm, but we would do it whenever we wanted to. Sometimes one would be naked even if the other wasn't, and that changed nothing of our dynamic.

We kept masturbating together, but it was always about us. Sometimes I would read her some of my favorite erotic stories. Other times she would share her screen and we would watch porn. There were times when we just felt like it and did it without any other inspiration than our company. The curious thing about it was that we never saw each other do it; we would just do it together.

With Marcos, light teasing kept going. Regarding Clara, I just told him she wasn't comfortable playing with us, and he accepted it, although he did ask me several times about what we did in our calls, but I always steered the conversation away from Clara and me. One time he blatantly asked if I had seen her stuff a toy in her pussy; I put a hard stop to that. 

In our nonsexual conversations, he started bringing up advice from Mia. Since she had been in an exchange at my age, she had some valuable insight. So I asked my dad to invite them over for a carne asada, and he happily agreed.

We had to set up the carne asada in the afternoon, before the rush of snack orders. I had to take orders just from my recurring customers in order not to spend too much time on it.

I ended my shift early and went to my room to get comfortable. My feet were killing me, and my clothes felt constraining, so I changed into my usual pajamas, an old t-shirt and loose shorts. My bed called me to lay in it and rest, but I needed to return to the social gathering happening in my backyard.

"So, what would you say are the most important items I should definitely take with me?" I asked Mia when I joined them.

"It's a long list, and I'll skip the obvious. Do you have a power converter yet?"

"I need a power converter?"

"Oh, girl, this is going to be a long night," she said. "Ok, either get a European charger or an adapter. If you plan on traveling a lot, a good adapter with multiple options would be your best bet. Avoid the Chinese shit; it will break, and you'll have to buy one there, in Euros."

"Ok, noted. What else?"

"Your passport is your most valuable possession; don't lose it and don't leave it behind. Buy a simple but durable cover for it so it won't get so mistreated. Remember, being in Europe might mean traveling around several countries, and you'll use your passport a bunch."

Mom and Dad went to bed early. They had been helping me a lot while still having full-time jobs and were exhausted. I was too, but this conversation was too interesting to skip it.

At one point Marcos excused himself to go to the restroom, and that's when Mia approached me and began whispering.

"Do you have condoms? You should buy some here and bring them with you; they can get expensive overseas, and the language barrier can be an issue trying to get some, trust me, it happens." 

"Ok, yeah, good idea," I replied.

"If you're bringing an adult toy, which you should, you have to put it in your carry-on and keep it visible. People at the airport will see it, and they won't give a fuck. If you send it with your documented luggage, it may get taken away. Also remember the charging cable."

Having her give me the same advice as her dad made me chuckle.

"Bring nice underwear, but also some everyday pieces. You don't want to get caught doing the sexy bit in granny panties, but you also don't want to walk six hours a day in a lacy, itchy thong," she said, and we both laughed.

"And remember to always wear protection; don't bring back an STI as a souvenir," she said just before Marcos came back. It was refreshing getting advice from someone around my age.

"So, why were you girls laughing so much?" Marcos asked.

"We were bad-mouthing you," I said.

"Actually, I was giving her advice on some adult-themed things while you were away."

I had a hard time reading whether Mia was joking with her dad or if she had that level of trust with him. Either way, Marcos let out a small chuckle and changed the subject. "It's getting chilly out here; maybe we should go back inside?"

We settled on the living room, which I knew was a nap-trap. Any time anyone slightly tired would sit there, they had a warranted nap coming. 

"Bring a nice going-out dress, preferably more than one. The French make bread-buying look like a fashion show. You'll need nice outfits if you want to blend in. And I suggest bringing some money dedicated to fashion shopping. I didn't, and I still regret it."

"Oh, that sounds like a lot of work for just a baguette!"

"It is, and the bread is not even all that great, but you'll eventually feel out of place if you don't wear the part. If you want, I could come shopping with you."

Mia's advice was becoming extremely valuable. We spent a couple more hours talking, and she shared some of her experiences while in Europe, but I could tell she held back on some topics, the private ones.

Every now and then Marcos would chime in with his advice or some joke, but the conversation mostly happened between Mia and I.

At some point Marcos started talking about his travel experience, and the nap-trap worked its magic. Mia started nodding off on the couch until Marcos asked her, "Do you want us to leave?"

"No, no, I just… Do you mind?" She asked as she laid down on the couch and fell asleep.

"I'm sorry about that; she's been working on her thesis, and it's taking a toll. She's actually been avoiding any social compromises, but she knew this was important to you," he said as he used his jacket to cover her. It was nice seeing Marcos be all fatherly towards Mia. Even if she were a fully grown woman, for him she was still her little daughter.

We moved to the kitchen to keep talking without disturbing her sleep.

"So, are you nervous?" he asked.

"About going shopping with Mia? Yes, a little; she seems very opinionated."

"No argument there, but I meant about the trip. You and Clara are very close; have you thought about what will happen when you're there?"

"We decided not to plan for anything regarding us; let destiny take us wherever it needs."

"Oh, destiny! Not hormones and desire; we're calling it destiny now." 

"Yes, it's destiny. I'm not a person who lets herself get carried away by hormones alone."

I could see Marcos occasionally staring at my feet; I was wearing sandals. It was an unconscious decision that was now being enjoyed by him.

I wiggled my toes and opened them whenever I caught him looking at them. Then I realized that we had never really had an intimate moment in person.

"Sorry about the slides; my feet were killing me."

"Oh, I don't mind at all." He looked a little ashamed of getting caught.

"Do you like my nails? I think they need a polish retouch."

"They look alright from here," he replied.

"What about now?" I asked, lifting a foot to the counter near him.

He swallowed hard and took a few seconds to reply.

"Gorgeous, as ever."

"Do you really like them?" I asked and moved my toes for him.

"I really do. Would you accept a massage from an old man?"

"No, never." I could see a gloomy expression forming on his face. "Never from an old man, but from you, anytime."

He grabbed the foot I had raised, and it made me stumble, almost losing my balance.

"Maybe we should sit down for this. How about the backyard?" he asked.

"Too chilly, remember? Maybe the dining room?"

He turned to see Mia sleeping in the living room; she was still knocked out, and he nodded.

We sat facing each other, and I gave him my left foot, and he put it over his knee. He immediately started rubbing it, pressing firmly on the ball of my foot and making small circles. I closed my eyes and leaned my head backwards, lost in the pleasure of being pampered.

"I've been wanting to do this since forever. You have gorgeous feet; you should get daily rubs."

I held back any reply. I was in heaven, and talking felt like a sin.

"Give me your other foot."

My left foot went back to the floor, and I raised my right one. A few seconds passed, and he didn't resume the massage, so I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"What are you waiting…"

That's when I noticed his eyes fixed on my leg. I followed his eyes and saw what he was staring at. My shorts had ridden up slightly, and the inside of the leg was now open. My bare pussy was on display for him; for the first time he was seeing it in person.

I trust these people so much that I forgot; I was in full rest mode, with no underwear at all.

My hand went to the edge of the fabric and pulled it down, ending the show. He let out a slightly exasperated huff and turned to see me, or rather to see my face.

"I'll let you look if you keep the massage going."

Marcos' hands immediately went to my right foot, and I dropped my knee slightly and let go of my shorts. My pussy was even more visible than before. I gave the other side of the shorts a little tug, making it fully visible to him.

His hands felt hot on my foot, and my breathing became sharper, harder. I had my eyes fixed on his face; his eyes reflected a desire I had never seen in him.

One of his hands left my foot and went to his crotch; he arranged his growing erection, and I licked my lips thinking of the fat cock I had only seen digitally until then.

My body moved on its own. My butt dragged forward on the chair, making me bend my knee further. Next, my leg extended and landed right on top of his hard bulge. He gasped and turned to see Mia once more. I started rubbing him with my heel, and he returned his eyes to my pussy.

He gave me a slightly panicked look. In response, I lifted my t-shirt, showing him my breasts. He tried reaching me with his hands extended, but I gently pushed him back into the chair with my foot and shook my head.

My left foot also went to his crotch, and I was able to rub his hard cock with the arch of my foot. I tried keeping my legs as open as I could so he could still see my pussy.

Marcos signaled me to remove my t-shirt, mimicking the motion with his hands, and I shook my head once more.

He grabbed his phone and texted me: "Let me suck them at least." And stared at my tits.

I raised my right foot and put it in his mouth. He sucked my big toe as if it were a tiny cock and licked between my toes while my other foot kept rubbing his hard-on.

I texted him: "Take it out."

He hesitated for a moment, but his hands went to his pants and undid his belt and button, and lowered his zipper. He tried taking it out, but it was still pressed by his pants, so he had to raise his hips and lower his pants a bit.

As he did that, I stood up and dropped my shorts. I turned to see Mia, and she was still sound asleep, looking away from us.

I sat back down and put my feet around his hard cock, surrounding it with my arches. He let out a grunt as soon as I applied a bit of pressure.

I grabbed my phone and sent another message. "You'll have to guide me; I've never done this."

He nodded, but let me do my thing for a bit. I raised and lowered my feet along his shaft. He started leaking precum, and the feeling of the slick drop on my feet was surreal.

His eyes were still fixed on my pussy. I licked my middle finger and slid it up and down on my slit until it was soaking, and extended my hand to his mouth. He grunted when he tasted me and closed his eyes as he licked.

His tongue swirled around my fingers until no trace of my taste remained. My hand returned to my pussy, and the tip of my finger started teasing my clit.

Marcos put his hands over my feet and started setting the rhythm and applying a bit more pressure. I could feel the muscles and veins of his throbbing cock under my soles. He let out a muffled moan as my finger moved more aggressively on my pussy.

With my free hands I raised my t-shirt again and bit on it as much as I could take, leaving my breasts exposed while the fabric silenced my moans.

Marcos' gaze darted between my tits, my vagina, and his cock. He grunted with his mouth closed and moved my feet faster. I pressed tighter on his cock, and he looked at me with lust and nodded.

"Oh, god, fuck!" he said under his breath, and he let go of my feet.

His thick cum oozed from his penis, soaking my feet, which kept rubbing it slowly, milking it to the last drop of cum.

My middle finger traveled further down until it reached my entrance, and it slid right in. I fucked my pussy fast, and my breathing became harder and harder. The t-shirt was only half-working to silence me.

When my orgasm came, my mouth opened, letting out a guttural gasp. My hand froze, and I struggled to catch my breath. When I reacted, Marcos was looking at me practically without blinking.

I reached out for the napkins at the table and handed him a bunch, and he delicately wiped my feet clean and then his cock.

I fed him my juices once more, which he took hungrily.

When Marcos stood up to dispose of the napkins, he dragged his chair, making more noise than intended.

"Dad?" Mia said with a groggy voice. "Can we go?"

I immediately stood up, and my t-shirt covered me completely. I just hoped she didn't notice I wasn't wearing my shorts anymore.

Marcos replied calmly while arranging his pants using slow, small movements. I don't think she noticed anything in the state she was.

"Yes, baby, we should go now."

They said some very short goodbyes and went their way.

After that interaction, Marcos and I had no more chances for an intimate moment. My life was hectic as it was, and this was nothing but a small relief to the stress I was living.

Mia and I stayed in touch though. She kept throwing advice and would send useful links to things like insurance options and tours available. 

One of the most valuable tips she gave me was to try to arrive in France more than a couple of days before my first day of classes. "Jetlag is no joke and you can settle in better if you get there on a Thursday," she said.

I still had to get approval from Bere at school and convince my parents which, surprisingly, wasn't all that hard.

Clara talked to her parents about receiving me earlier and apparently they too were onboard without an issue. We worked out the details in one of our video calls with them. Clara and I were ecstatic about us being together for a few more days.

Mia told me when to look for the least expensive flights and actually helped me with that booking. My parents weren't completely thrilled about that. Mom expected me to do that purchase with her, but she respected my right to make my own decisions.

Mia also threw in the occasional tip regarding dating with Europeans and flirting there. I don't know how universal her knowledge was, but I still appreciated the effort.

I saw her once more. We went shopping for my baguette outfits, as she called them. Along the way she suggested a couple of multicolored suitcases, and since the price was reasonable and the style matched my own, I went for them.

"It's better if your luggage stands out; it's harder to miss on the conveyor belt and less likely for it to be misplaced, too," she said.

Mia and I had such a good time together that we decided to have a drink. We went to a bar, where she told me a story about her time abroad.

"I know this may seem exciting and positive. But I would say you need to be ready for some heavy feelings coming your way," she said while taking her first sip of beer.

I looked at her with inquiring eyes, waiting for her to say her piece.

"My first week in Paris was rough. I had a lot of trouble settling in. I thought I had mastered the language until everyone started talking at once and faster than I had ever heard. I stayed silent for most of that first week, and loneliness kicked in. Hard.

"I cried myself to sleep that first week every night. I felt alone and helpless in a strange city with little support. Whenever I talked to my parents, I had to put on a brave face so they wouldn't worry. That made it all worse for me.

"During my first weekend I went clubbing with the girl that was hosting me, Juliette, and his friends. Out of loneliness or desperation, I ended up hooking up with one of them in the club toilets.

"I won't go into the gory details, but the STI advice? I learned it the hard way that night." Her eyes were watery and her voice started to crack as she told the story.

"I'm so sorry. Did you end your trip early?"

"And admit defeat? No, not my style. I powered through it. I actually had to tell Juliette about my burning crotch, and she took me to a clinic where I got some antibiotics, and we actually became close after that. No more crying in the night, but I still was homesick for most of the trip."

"That sounds rough. And are you…?"

"Clean as a whistle, chlamydia clears after a week of antibiotics. I got lucky."

"So, the whole "bring your toy and condoms" bit…"

"All personal experience, yes. So, if you feel alone, desperate, or in a bad place, I'm here; call me, drop a text, whatever. I won't judge."

Somehow it felt as if she were turning into a sister of sorts. I was glad I had her by my side through all of this.

Weeks went by and July approached fast.

On the home front, the businesses went great. Mom and Dad started making a plan to continue selling during my time away. They said it would help me keep my customers, and when I returned, I would have the choice to either end it, slow down, or keep only one of the businesses; it would be my choice.

At one point, during one of our end-of-night talks, Dad apologized. "Hey Kiddo, I need to say something. I know your mother and I opposed this trip a lot and gave you the toughest time. You didn't deserve it. We had our reasons to be worried, but you have proven to us, time and time again, what a responsible and smart woman you've become, and we are proud of you."

"I kind of get it, Dad. I know you worry and want the best for me, but I have to admit that for years I resented you for saying no so much. A part of me still does, because I feel I lost so many opportunities in the last years because of your and Mom's attitude."

"I see. Well, it's not nice to hear your daughter resent you. What do you think I could do to make things right?"

"Pay for the full trip yourself?"

"Oh, now you're trying to be funny with the person you resent?"

We both laughed, and once we settled, I returned to my serious mode. "If I could know why you were so adamant about refusing the exchange, maybe I could understand you and move on."

"I get you, but… Ok. I can tell you this: It is not my story to tell. Your mom… she has been through some stuff, and if anyone has the right to share it, it is her," Dad said. Before I could answer anything, he kept talking. "But what I can tell you is that I'm very worried about your safety there. The calls with the Simons have gone a long way to ease my nerves. But you will face so many things there on your own that I'm still worried sick."

"Ok, look, Dad, I know you worry; it's basically your job. But I'll be fine; you've taught me how to defend myself, to identify danger, and to evade it or face it if force comes to shove. I'll be fine. Besides, I won't be alone; Clara and I have become really close, and she and her family already have plans for us to tour around whenever I'm not in summer school."

"That all sounds good, but can I ask you a favor? For me? Keep the alcohol consumption to a minimum. It's a different country with different ideas, and a gorgeous, drunk foreigner could look like easy prey for someone with bad intentions."

"Ok, but weed is ok, right?" I asked, and he gave me a stern look; apparently this was not the time for jokes of that kind.

"I'm being serious. I know you're smart; just don't be a smartass, ok?"

Over the days, whenever we were alone, he would give me safety tips, and he actually taught me how to kick someone in the balls. I hope I never have to use it.

Mom and I actually got very close over the months. We talked about loads of things. She was always particularly interested in my boyfriends, but I guess that's what moms do. She even started sharing stories about men before my dad and her relationship with her parents, which I knew was never great, but hearing the sordid details really made me admire the woman learning to roll croissants my way.

The day of my trip drew closer. My seemingly never-ending checklist started to look almost complete.

The weekend before my trip, a huge party in my home erupted suddenly. I'm sure my folks planned it for the longest time and had all the family and friends keep the secret. Suddenly more than 20 people showed up unannounced to my house.

Even my grandma, who never leaves her house, was there to celebrate my trip. Everyone showed up with a little gift.

My grandma gave me a framed old picture of her, my dad, and me when I was practically a newborn. Some cousins gave me an instant camera and a big pack of films for it and demanded pics of all the places I visited.

Mia also showed up for a bit and gave me a gift bag with a passport holder that matched perfectly with my suitcases. Apparently she had it custom made for me. "False bottom," she said to my ear when she hugged me. I knew what she meant and decided to explore that when I was alone.

Mom and Dad said their gift would come later and left me wanting.

Marcos took me aside to give me his gift.

"Hey kiddo, look, I know I haven't been around much; I wanted to give you your space and work on your project. I'm so proud you've come this far. I didn't know what to get you, so my gift for you is simpler," he said and handed me a plain yellow envelope. Inside it I found a bunch of euros, a couple thousand, from what I could see.

"I can't…"

"Nonsense, you'll need money to enjoy as much as you can. I know it isn't much, but it will surely help you. I won't take it back, no matter what." He said and hugged me tight before returning to the party.

Happiness flooded me, and I might've drank more than I should, because part of the night became a blur.

The next morning was a Sunday, three days before my trip and the day I had set aside to pack. My plan was to wake up early and start packing as my mom helped me with the pastry business. I woke up close to noon and immediately panicked.

I moved as fast as I could, trying to make up for the lost time, but my head was banging and I could barely focus.

A text from Clara awaited me: "Three days, Shime! I need you here!" I felt butterflies in my stomach, but I didn't know if it was from the message or the nausea from the banging hangover.

We texted a bit, and it started getting sexy, but I ended it. I was already late.

When I walked down the stairs feeling defeated by my hangover, my mom received me with some effervescent aspirins, chilaquiles, and a black coffee with plenty of sugar, my go-to kit for a rough morning.

"Good morning, sunshine. I guess you haven't really worked on your luggage, have you?"

I shook my head, downed the aspirins, and sat down to eat.

"Don't worry, I'll help you; we'll be done before lunch, you'll see."

When I was done eating, and some semblance of energy returned to my body, we headed upstairs to start packing.

We shared some light banter while she helped me pick my clothes for the trip. She actually made me model the two dresses I had picked with Mia, and her eyes glowed when she saw me wearing them.

She started organizing everything in the checked-in bag while I started sorting out other things.

Mia's gift bag was still on my bedside table, and I grabbed the passport cover from it. Just then I remembered about the false bottom she mentioned, and I grabbed the "empty" bag; it was heavier than it should.

The bottom of the bag shifted, and I saw something shiny under it. I moved it and, lo and behold, an assorted collection of condoms flashed before my eyes. Textured, ultra-thin, with aphrodisiac, and even some extra-large ones. She went out of her way to get me as many different rubbers as she could find.

I held back my laughter and took a pic of the condoms without Mom noticing. The photo went on a message to Mia: "Thanks for the gift, you bitch! My mom almost catches me opening the world's largest condom collection. How many guys do you think I'm going to fuck?"

I opened my carry-on and put a couple of pieces of clothing there, and while Mom was looking away, I stashed all the condoms under the clothes.

But there was one other thing that I needed to bring on my carry-on. I knew I could do it later, but I was afraid to forget it. So I reached under my bed for Marc and put it under the clothes in my small suitcase. Mom didn't really notice; she was way too focused rolling my clothes and telling me about some dispute with an aunt I hadn't seen in ages.

I was almost done with my carry-on when my mom looked at my bigger suit with pride and announced, "This one is done; you still have some room for your purchases and some nice souvenirs for your folks." 

"Speaking of souvenirs!" I said and opened my bedside table door. I took two bottles of tequila I bought for the Simons and handed them to Mom.

"Oh, these are nice! Do you plan on getting drunk there?" 

"Not really, they are gifts for the Simons. I promised to make some cocktails for them, but I also plan to put them through some straight shots; so they know who they're messing with."

"Just be careful when you drink honey; you're going to be too far away from anyone that can help you."

"Yes, Mom, I know!" I sounded more exasperated than I intended, but she had said that so much in the past week it had become tiresome.

That's when Mom turned to see my small suitcase.

"Oh dear, your carry-on is a mess! Let me help you!"

I couldn't stop her; she already had the suitcase in her hands and started taking things out of it. Soon she was lifting the last remaining piece of clothing from the suitcase. I held my breath, knowing full well what was beneath it. She was met with Marc over a sea of different condoms.

"Oh, he's coming too?" She asked. Since I didn't reply, she continued. "Wouldn't it be better for it to be in your bigger bag? The one that won't get reviewed in public?" She said, trying to sound normal. She was obviously embarrassed, and her red cheeks showed it.

It took me a minute to figure out how to talk to my mother about the big vibrator on my suitcase. I chose to follow her lead and try to act as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Uh, yeah, I looked into that; apparently since it has internal batteries, if I try to document it, it's considered a fire hazard and could be confiscated. It's safer to bring it with the carry-on and embarrass the people operating the X-ray." 

"Ok, but the condoms…"

"Yeah, it was a gift, and I figured I might as well bring them. I was hoping to be subtle about it, but you found my secret stash."

"No, I get why you bring them. I'm glad that you do, but shouldn't they be in the bigger suitcase? And um, could you move your pink friend? I'd rather not touch it."

"Actually, do you have a large ziplock bag? Like big enough for him." I said, grabbing Marc, and saw Mom blush once more. I moved the condoms, dropping them as they were onto the larger suitcase.

"Wait, I'll bring a couple of bags for the condoms and the toy; don't make a mess there!" She said and bolted out of my room.

While Mom was away, I grabbed my phone. Mia had already replied to my message. "I hope they are enough. Just don't overdo it; a sore pussy is no fun."

"I guess that's a story to have over a beer when I return," I replied.

"More than one story, but yes, over beers."

That's when my mom returned, bringing two Ziploc bags and a small purple bottle.

"Here, I figured you might need this."

I grabbed the bottle, and it was a brand new lube. I never thought my mom would use it, let alone have a new one ready. This was very bizarre.

"I had it lying around; don't ask why. And I know using toys sometimes can be… challenging without lubrication." 

"Thanks, Mom, but, umm. I haven't had… issues in that department."

"Oh. Oooooohhhhh! That's great, honey. I'm, uh, glad for you. Still, it won't hurt you…" she paused, probably finding her words amusing, because a silly grin lit up her face. "It won't hurt you to bring it, just in case."

We both laughed, partly at her dumb joke, but also because the whole talk was extremely awkward and we needed to defuse it.

I put Marc on one of the bags while Mom fished the condoms out of the large suitcase. I gave her the lube, and she put it on that bag as well, and we both shared a complicit smile as we put the adult items away.

"You know. I went on a trip when I was a little younger than you. A lifetime ago," she said while she rolled up the clothes for my carry-on.

I stayed silent; it was not usual for her to share her life story like that.

"It wasn't anything as fancy as your exchange; it was just a week at Puerto Vallarta with my cousins. We drank way too much practically every day. One night we decided to go clubbing, and I passed out on a couch there, drunk senseless.

"A guy, some random guy I had never met, woke me up and told me he was taking me home, and I went with him…"

I didn't dare interrupt her, but my heart sank when I realized this wasn't a happy story.

"All I remember is that he was polite, but his hands were touching parts of my body that made me uncomfortable, but I couldn't really speak to ask him to stop. We walked out of the club, and a car was waiting for us. I almost climbed in when two of my cousins came charging at the guy.

"I ended up crying on the floor, with my legs banged from the fight that broke out. One of your aunts helped me up, and we got into a cab before the cops came."

"Oh, my god, Mom, I didn't know," I said, shocked. I could see tears filling her eyes.

"Few people do. I told your dad long ago; Marcos was there too, so he knows. My cousins obviously all know, but no one else. I didn't want to go through the embarrassment of telling my parents.

"My mind has replayed the events that night over and over through the years. Was he going to abuse me? Or was he kidnapping me altogether? I'll never know. But I know that having family close by is what saved me that night."

"So, is that why you never get drunk?" I asked.

"Mostly, yeah. But it's also why I was so rigid about you traveling alone. I was your age, and I almost lost everything on a drunk night. But I wasn't alone."

"Oh, Mom, I'm not…"

"You don't need to tell me. You're not me, and we've raised you to be better than I was at my age. Still, you're young and brave, and that is a dangerous combination. But I trust you. I trust you enough to put in your hands the most valuable thing for me."

"Your new lube?" I asked.

"JAJAJAJAJA! You are hopeless! YOU! You are the most valuable thing in the world to me. I'm sorry for resisting letting you grow for so long. Please promise me you'll be safe. As safe as you can be while still having fun."

"I promise, and I get it; NOW I get it. I would've loved to know this before, though. Maybe we could've talked about it and… I don't know, work something out."

"Maybe, yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, we should hurry; it's almost time for your call with Clara," Mom said.

"We're not having them anymore. I'll be way too busy to make time for them. I'll see her in a few days anyway."

"Ok, that makes sense. Well, we're about done here. Do you want to help me with lunch?" She asked, and we moved on to that.

The remaining days went by in a blur, and Wednesday came. My flight was a little after noon, and my parents and I got to the airport almost three hours before.

As I waited for my flight, my dad invited me to "my last meal," his idea of a joke.

There, he handed me my pending gift, a new debit card with a little over 7K euros. 

I was in shock. I would have never thought my parents would be able to put together that kind of money for me, for this trip.

Apparently they had been saving for months to give me as much spending money as possible. I never asked for a dime for that. I had my own savings. Now, overall, I had more than triple what I had planned to bring. It was clear: when my folks believed in something, they went all in. Maybe that's where I got my determination from.

While we ate, my mind wandered to all the things I had to do to make this trip happen. All the work done, preparations, convincing my parents, new friends, and relationships. It felt like a lifetime ago when Marcos convinced my dad to let me go. And all the red tape. It was incredible all that I went through. And it was finally happening.

Mom and Dad walked me up to the security checkpoint. That was as far as they could go. They hugged me tight and said their goodbyes. We all teared up as I walked to the checkpoint alone.

I looked back at them while I was putting all my belongings on a tray and my luggage on the belt. Suddenly I remembered what was in there, and my stomach sank. I saw the suitcase get swallowed by the machine and then come back and forth a couple of times while I walked through the arch.

"Is this yours?" A female agent asked. She was sitting at the X-ray screen and looking at a confusing image on the monitor.

"Yeah, it's mine," I replied.

"Did you pack this yourself?" she asked.

"My mom helped me, but I saw her do it," I replied. Maybe I was being overly honest, but I was a nervous wreck.

"Ok, I'm going to need you to open it for me. There's a strange object I need to check," she said. Her politeness mismatched with her stern voice.

I opened the suitcase, and of course, the first thing on top was my vibrator in a clear bag. The agent let out a small chuckle but quickly regained her composure. I must've been beet red and almost laughed with her.

"Alright, I think I found the strange object, but I still need to do a more thorough search," she said and started shuffling things around in my suitcase.

She actually had to grab the plastic bag to move it to the side. The whole review lasted no more than 2 minutes, but I felt like hours had passed and people were staring at me and my vibrator.

"Alright, it all seems ok; thank you for your patience," she said and then approached me. I leaned forward too. "And thanks for bagging it; you made my work so much easier." And we both let out a little chuckle.

I arranged the suitcase and started looking for the door where my flight would leave from.

While I waited for the flight, I messaged Mom and Dad, Clara, Mia, and Marcos, all the people that had supported me through the last few months.

I boarded the plane nervous and excited at the same time, thinking of all the good and bad that could happen during a month in a foreign country. I sat down and looked out the window with high expectations.

Right after takeoff my eyes felt heavy, and I realized just how tired the journey had been to get to this point. I let sleep take me, and I dreamt of holding Clara in my arms for the first time.