Oh god, not again

This was our third meeting. The first time we had passed each other on the steep street. She had smiled at me and I didn’t have time to respond before passing. The second time we sat on the same bus. I told her of the history of the town we were both staying in. Now I was sitting on the castle wall, looking at the lightning playing among the distant clouds and drinking a bottle of cheap wine. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw her smile, bright and cheerful.
“hi, here you are again!” she said.
“hi. Climb up and join me?”
“Sure”.
She turned her back to the wall and jumped on, then turned again to face the sea. Behind us the ruins of the castle were quiet. The courtyards had long since turned into wild gardens and where medieval knights once fought only the occasional nocturnal adventurer from the town walked.
“So what are you doing up here?” she asked.
“Nothing special, just sitting. The storm is beautiful.”
Somewhere below a fisherman cast his line and the sound of his radio playing old Turkish ballads intermingled with the whispering of the waves.
We spoke a bit more. The usual traveler chit-chat. Where are you from? Where are you headed? How long on the road?
I’d been attracted to her from the first moment I saw her. It was hard not to be. Besides her perfect figure and classical facial features there was always that cheerful disposition with an undercurrent of naughtiness that I could never stop wondering about. From the way her hand brushed mine occasionally I guessed she at least didn’t object to my presence. Tonight she was wearing a short, black dress that set off her flawless body. Glistening black curls framed her face.
“I have a challenge for you”, she said, her smile turning distinctly mischievous.
“What kind?”
“Well, actually, it’s a series of three challenges. If you pass, I guarantee you the reward will be worth it. Think you’re up to it?” she said as she jumped off the wall. I followed her.
“What kind of challenges are we talking about here?”
“Well, now, that would be telling. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
I thought about it for a second. Normally I’m not much of a thrill seeker but after almost a whole bottle of wine it was easier to let curiosity get the better of me.
“Hmmm...OK. I'll try out your challenge.”
“Ready?”, she didn’t even wait for a reply, “Let’s start. First of all I’ll test your concentration. Remember when you were telling me about Ottoman history?”
I nodded, recalling our bus ride together. I was never quite sure if she had been interested in what I told her or just pretending to, but I couldn’t find a good subject for conversation so I told her about the sultans and warlords and long-dead knights who had warred over the town and fortress which were our temporary home.
“You never finished the story. So tell me the rest of it now and I’ll try to distract you. All you have to do is keep telling me the story”, her face turned mock serious. “But don’t fail because this is only the first challenge.”
I wondered what her plan was. I’m easily distracted even at the best of times, and now I was far from being clear headed. But the promise of a reward did seem tempting.
I started again where I left off on the bus. She looked straight into my eyes and I stuttered slightly but continued. After a few sentences I started getting into the rhythm of it, even enjoying myself. My usually reluctant tongue loosened and I let my voice convey what I knew of the past.
Abruptly my mind was thrown back to the present. I felt a cool hand slipping between my pants and the skin of my stomach, questing for my underpants’ band and then diving inside, cupping me.
“Don’t stop”, she said.