Assisi

My time in Assisi was very short. I would have liked to have spent a month there.
I didn't, I only spent 2 days there.
The first day was filled with exploring the town and taking tours of the church. Assisi is absolutely breathtaking to see. From far away it looks like any little town in Italy, but once you start roaming the streets and visiting the shops, you find something wonderful. It was such a quaint and peaceful town, you felt like you could breathe easier there. The church/monastery itself was a building you could spend most of the day in.
Over all I loved it.

The second day was a day just to relax and enjoy the town while we were there. Since I had explored the town heavily the day before, I decided today was a day I could just enjoy myself and the atmosphere of Assisi.
I was sitting at a fountain, reading my book, when I felt someone looking at me.

(Pause: Leading up to our time in Assisi, I had some run-ins with Italian men. I had been felt up twice, backed down an alley way, and had things said to me in Italian that I'm sure I would have blushed at knowing their meaning.)

I was sure it was another Italian man noticing an American woman (seemed almost like a game: "Who can get the American woman to blush first"), so I determinedly stared at my book without looking up. I felt someone sit down nearby. "Shit," I thought, "I hope this one isn't as bad as the guy who used his member to feel up my leg."
A flower was placed between the pages of my book.
I looked up, and there beside me was a fairly attractive Italian man. He said hello and then immediately asked me if I was American and staying at a nearby hotel.
At this point, all frustration on the male race just gathered to the point where I just let it go, and laughed. His English was somewhat broken and he seemed more of a romantic than the others, so I suspected he didn't mean to imply what he did, and a few minutes later my suspicions where confirmed when his eyes got wide and he started to say something along the lines of "I do not think you are an American prostitute."

Whether he was a supreme Italian player, or just a little naiveté, he won. He got my attention. We talked for a bit about small things, life in America, life in Assisi, and how long I was there for. We had started walking at some point, wandering the streets and looking in shop windows. We came to a little alleyway that I had come across the day before and we stopped to enjoy the view. He put his arm around me and said something in Italian that could have been “whore” for all I know, I didn’t care I wanted to have the feeling of a romance novel at that point. I had only been with two men when this happened, and I had kissed only a few more. I felt his grip grow tight and I looked up at him. He kissed me. I could feel the kiss grow harder and I knew he wanted me as much as I did him. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep with him, he didn’t know that, it was obvious from his pants. Whether I was a supreme American tease or just a little naiveté, I won the battle of who was going to have my pants.