**Note**
The following story takes place in the Icelandic capital of Reykjavik. Although the characters and events portrayed are entirely fictional, the story is based on actual Icelandic dating customs.
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In most countries, the idea of the "one night stand" is considered sleazy and even degrading. However, that notion is not shared in the Land of Fire and Ice. While Iceland's spectacular geysers, waterfalls and volcanoes may be alluring to foreigners, the Icelanders themselves, specifically the young ones, couldn't care less about these things. In fact, they struggle every day to understand why someone would pay hundreds of dollars to camp on their midge infested lakes, and breath in their smelly sulfur fumes. Therefore, if you're a young person in Iceland there are really only two forms of entertainment, alcohol and sex. The latter was exactly why 22 year old Simon would travel to the Icelandic capital in the dead of winter.
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Simon was a smart, young English lad who hailed from a small village outside of York. He was a student of botany at a university in York, and worked as a chess tournament commentator, and trivia host to earn a few pounds. For this reason, most of his classmates considered him a nerd. It didn't help that he wore glasses, and had only recently gotten his braces off. For the most part however, Simon wasn't an ugly guy. In fact, he didn't even fit the description of a stereotypical nerd. He was almost 6 feet tall, slim, and fair skinned with dense brown hair and a subtle beard. Even with glasses, his face was easily an 8. Plus, he was a charming English gentlemen, and his mates always told him that he knew how to show them a good time at the pub. But there was something about him that just didn't appeal to women.
Most of the lads in his class had already lost their virginity, while Simon had never even been on a date. The only girl to ever kiss him was a childhood crush in grade school. One thing he did have going for him, was his above average penis. But it didn't matter that his cock stood at almost 7 inches when fully erect, if he didn't have anyone to put it in.
Simon had promised himself that 2017 would be the year he lost his virginity. However, 2017 was quickly coming to an end, and he had yet to accomplish his goal. With only two weeks left of the year, and the semester already over, his chances of getting laid in England were pretty slim. Desperate, he began scouring the internet for any article he could find on "sex tourism." It was then that he came across an online blog post entitled, "In the Land of Fire and Sex". The article was written by a young Polish lad, who had lived in Iceland for several years and had experienced its liberal sex culture. He spoke of Icelandic women "fucking first and asking questions later".
One quote from his article stated, "I had never experienced anything like this in my life. The women in this country will sleep with you, before they even ask you your name. I went to bed with a young lady I met in a bar, only to find out afterwards that she was a hardcore feminist vegan. But at that point, I didn't care as she had already given me a night to remember."
One comment on his blog read, "I'm a native Icelander, and what you say is completely true. If you can't get laid in Iceland, there's something wrong with you."
At that moment, Simon knew he had found the solution to his dilemma. However, there was one problem that he was made aware of as he read the article. The country's promiscuous culture meant that Iceland also had the highest rate of STDs on the planet, with a significant portion of the population suffering from chlamydia. Although this was somewhat concerning, Simon reckoned that as long as he used protection and didn't perform oral sex, he would be fine. Besides, he still considered Iceland a far better option then the Red Light District of Amsterdam. At least this way, he would be losing his virginity to a regular girl, and not some prostitute. He had made up his mind.
Simon immediately went on a booking site and began searching for flights to Reykjavik. Just his luck, the only flight he was able to find was on the 31st of December, that left England at 6:00 in the evening, and arrived in Iceland at 8:00 PM. Factoring in customs, exchanging currency and getting into town, he really had just a three hour window to lose his virginity, before the start of the new year. With all the drinking and partying that would be taking place on New Year's Eve, this task would normally be a walk in the park. However, finding a single gal in a city of over 100,000, seducing her, and getting her in bed, all within three hours, seemed downright impossible. But Simon was up to the challenge. He knew if he didn't go through with this, no other goal in life would ever matter. Without hesitation, he finalized his booking, and marked the date on his calendar. Now, the wait began.
The two weeks that had passed since he booked his ticket, were the longest two weeks of Simon's life. Every night he would look at pictures of nude Icelandic girls, and watch hours of amateur Icelandic porn, counting down to the day that one of those girls would be his. However, Simon was deliberately making things more unbearable for himself. He had abstained from masturbating that entire time, as he was saving himself for that lucky lasse in Iceland. Just when he thought he couldn't make it another second, December 31 had arrived.
That morning, Simon packed light, packing only his money, passport, a few toiletries, a pack of condoms and extra underwear just in case. Aside from the underwear, he didn't even bother packing a change of clothes, as he only planned to get laid and leave the country the very next morning. Simon always enjoyed maintaining his natural appearance. However, he figured a smooth man might be more appealing to a Nordic girl, so that day he decided to shave off his chest hair, butt hair, pubic and ball hair, and even his armpit hair. He looked like a bloody muncher. but in the end, his virginity was at stake here. If this would help him get laid, he was willing to do it.
That evening Simon had one of his mates give him a ride to the airport.
"Thanks for the ride mate. But hey, you and the lads are the only ones who know I'm doing this, alright? I won't be able to survive the humiliation if my family finds out about this, so if they ask, I was with you and the lads at Whitley Bay."
"I'll Photoshop some pics of you. Good luck mate. Just don't get the bird knocked up. And don't come back with any nasty souvenirs either."
With that, Simon proceeded to the check in counter. He cleared security without issue and was sitting at his gate waiting for his flight be begin boarding. Suddenly, 10 minutes before boarding time, his excitement had turned into fear and anxiety. Simon rushed to the nearest lavatory, and threw up in the first available john.
"Good Lord, Simon. Get a hold of yourself, mate."
It's a good thing he decided to pack his mouthwash, as he really needed it right now. The last thing he wanted to do was to kiss a hot Nordic blonde with vomit breath. Suddenly, he heard his flight being called for boarding. He finished rinsing and quickly ran over to his gate. Thankfully, they had just started boarding.
Simon entered the plane and made his way to his seat. The flight attendant was giving her routine safety talk, but he tuned her out. All he could think about was those horny Icelandic girls who were waiting for him in Reykjavik. As the plane began to taxi down the runway the reality of what he was doing suddenly donned on him.
"Good Lord Simon! How desperate can you be?"
But at this point it was too late to turn back, and deep down he knew he couldn't wait another day to get laid.
A voice came on over the intercom. The captain was informing the crew and passengers that the plane was about to take off. Suddenly the plane began to speed down the runway, and Simon's heart sank as he felt it lift off the ground. By midnight, he would no longer be a virgin.
7:50 PM. The captain's voice comes on over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Reykjavik. The temperature in Reykjavik is about 23 degrees Celsius, with clear night skies and fresh snowfall. Thank you for flying with us, and enjoy your stay in Reykjavik."
Simon peered through his passenger's window and could see dim lights in the distance. He looked at his watch. 7:51. At this point every minute was precious. He just wanted to be on the ground and off the plane.
Simon could feel the plane start to descent. His leg was shaking uncontrollably with anticipation. Suddenly, he was jolted in his seat. The plane had landed. He was in Iceland. He looked at his watch. It was 8:00 sharp, but he knew it would be at least another 10 minutes before they were allowed to deplane. He looked at his watch again and again. 5 minutes had passed, then 10, then 15. At this point Simon was getting antsy. The flight crew were running late and every minute was precious. Finally, the captain gave the go ahead to deplane.
Simon followed the line of passengers down the steel stairs and onto the icy tarmac. He was immediately hit with a burst of cold Arctic air. The jacket and gloves he had purchased for this trip weren't doing the job, but he knew the body heat of an Icelandic girl would soon warm him up. He glanced at his watch. 8:20 damnit! At this point he wanted to make a mad dash over the airport fence, and grab the first taxi he saw, but if he ended up in prison, he would never get laid, at least not by a woman. So he calmly followed the other passengers into the customs building, which if anything, was at least much warmer. Here, he caught his first glimpse of some real Icelandic women, in the form of customs officials. They were all in their 40s and 50s, but the excitement of finally seeing some in person, made him instantly aroused. God, they looked so hot! He wanted to take them right there, and wondered if he could some how fool them into giving him a cavity search. Had he not been experiencing severe shrinkage from the cold weather he had just been exposed to, he would've had a full hard on right now.
The customs people were taking forever. Simon needed to piss, but didn't wanna lose his place in line. He looked at his watch. 9:20 damnit! He should've been out of here already. At this point, he was wondering if he should just try his luck with one of the customs ladies. Finally, one of the customs official waved him over.
"Good evening sir. Your passport please." There was a long pause as he examined Simon's documents.
"British."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Pleasure sir!", he replied with a huge grin on his face.
"Enjoy you stay."
"Oh, I wil!", Simon replied.
Finally, he was through, but he still needed to relieve himself and exchange his bloody currency. It was 9:30 by the time he finally made it out of the bloody airport. "Bollocks!" Simon said as he looked at his watch. He wasted no more time and grabbed the first taxi he saw.
"Good evening sir, where to?" the driver inquired.
