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A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 01

By: dtiverson



Since you seemed to like the first book I am going to drop the second book here. This is actually the second chapter. The first simply catches new readers up. There are more to follow. The story here is one that I particularly like. It is about assumptions and renewals in married life and I wanted to share it with you. I am glad that a few of you enjoy this. I am a big fan of erotic romance (writing and reading) and I would love to talk about that with you.

~

An Affair to Remember

Paul

We finished our business in Paris in the morning of the next day. The aim of the Foundation is to develop childhood potential within the unique characteristics of that particular culture. So our strategy was geared around local control. 

Our movements around Europe that year were meant to ensure that we did not hammer the children into a common mold. And more practically we wanted to talk with the people who would administer each country's program to stress the importance of cultural distinctiveness. 

We also wanted to make sure that they were the right people for the job. 

Our meeting was at the hotel, in a room that we had reserved downstairs. It was attended by four French representatives who we had chosen based on their work in the area of exceptional children. 

They would be responsible for the general organization and administration of the program in France. 

Janey, Helen , who we call Hilley, and I sat opposite them across the table. We had brought Hilley because her precociousness and beauty would illustrate our concept of what we thought "exceptional" was. 

In that respect then, Hilley was to be the "face" of our organization. 

Hilley was a study in poise, composure and childhood intelligence. Her performance was exactly what we expected from her. 

She answered questions in her typical quasi-adult fashion. Her contralto voice is another thing that she inherited from her mother. Thank God it does not have the sultry smokiness of her mother's, YET! 

Hilley also asked some questions of her own. And they were very much on-point. Her amazing blue eyes in that dark haired dusky face had the French mesmerized. 

We had brought her with us partly to expose her to the realities and requirements of her position in life. 

The last thing we wanted was a spoiled and entitled rich kid. And Hilley will be a very rich woman someday. We wanted to instill a fundamental sense of her duties to others and her society, which are an obligation of her birth. 

From a very early age we made her participate in volunteer work around Como, from her church group picking up trash to bringing food to poor people. 

Because she is a deep and wise child she loved every second of the giving back. And she understood that the helping work she was doing was a form of paying forward her own great good fortune. 

On the other hand her mother is a truly great beauty and it was clear that somebody that gorgeous was both totally unexpected as well as completely unnerving to our French hosts. 

Janey has a penetrating intellect that will blow away pretense and that combined with her face and figure is very intimidating to any man. 

She was wearing a top and skirt combination that she must have picked up the day before because I had never seen it. It was very contemporary and chic. 

She has her own fortune so she buys her own clothes and since she has never looked at a price tag in her life, what she buys always reflects her superb fashion sense. 

This outfit was some kind of fuzzy cloth material in muted pastel colors. The top was like a short jacket, buttoned down the front over a silk blouse and the bottom was a relatively short but very stylish skirt of the same material worn over nylons with sensible, for Janey, three inch heels. 

A simple gold necklace with small diamonds finished off the ensemble. 

She has the kind of smooth totally healthy complexion that does not require much makeup so all she had on was a little lip gloss and some stuff around her eyes. Wearing an outfit like that, she looked like a cross between a Fortune Ten CEO and the goddess of love. 

With her huge boobs and powerful hips, the French didn't know what to make of her. 

Janey ran the meeting and between her and Hilley I had little to say. I just sat and studied our four French partners. 

They appeared to have the requisite level of expertise and organizational skill and they had the right answers so the meeting was routine. 

We excused ourselves just before noon because all of us had a train to catch, one of our representatives to his home in Nice, the other to Caen, the third to Lyon, and the last one to a little suburb of Paris. 

Janey, Hilley, Zeus and the Governess and of course myself had First Class reservations out of Paris Nord on the Eurostar to St Pancras station London.

~

Janey

I woke up in a glorious Paris spring morning. Paul was still snoring beside me. I rolled on my side to study him as I always do when I wake up first. 

I have loved the man from the minute he appeared in the doorway of that classroom. Nonetheless, true love never stands still. If you love a man for a lifetime of marriage you will discover that whatever you felt at one stage in your life will change, deepen and broaden as time goes by. 

I loved him then with my body and soul but now we have matured so that our love joins us in our dealings with life as if we are one person. 

We still have our disagreements, which can occasionally get very heated, especially when he puts our daughter in jeopardy, but those are like ripples as a great river flows along. 

He had told me before we started this project that he wanted me to be out front when we met with the various delegations and that he wanted Hilley to be my adjutant. 

We both understood the goals of Hilley's involvement but what he was telling me was that he respected my ability to do this work and also that his own ego was not tied up in our endeavor. 

He didn't need to put me in charge. A lot of men, especially self-made men like Paul would have wanted to hog all of the limelight. 

It has been my experience that men are insecure little boys, constantly trying to prove their status on the playground. Paul is different. He clearly respects my abilities but he almost appears to take personal pleasure in not being visible during my successes. 

If I am strong and competent in a meeting I can sense him feeling the deepest satisfaction. That in turn makes me want to excel in what I am doing for him.

The French delegation was the usual collection of academics and bureaucrats. They looked like they were decent and competent enough but they were also French. 

The raging ambivalence that they were so obviously feeling about dealing with only me and my daughter would have been comical if it were not so important to ensure a proper business footing. 

The guy across the table couldn't keep his eyes off the swell of my tits under my Gaultier jacket. And the nonplussed look that the guy from Nice got when Hilley asked him, in perfect French to elaborate on his ideas about early childhood development, was absolutely priceless. 

I had to toy with them a bit, because I am always me. So I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs as we talked. The occasional embarrassing interruptions in their train of thought were rewarding. 

Paul sat there like the Cheshire cat during the entire meeting. Out of the corner of my eye I couldn't help noticing the looks of adoration that he kept giving Hilley and presumably me; very un-businesslike but totally satisfying nonetheless. 

When the meeting broke up we collected our baggage and Zeus and the governess. 

The governess had worked for one other family prior to our hiring her. Her name is Ada, meaning "noble" in German, and Hilley loves her. 

She DID have a certain amount of working class nobility about her for somebody so young. 

She is a sweet, hard-working apple cheeked girl of 21 from Zurich and she is almost as devoted to Hilley as La Legion is. She is not exactly beautiful but she could be described as "cute", tall and almost mannishly strong. 

Her main mark of distinction is the biggest pair of tits I have ever seen on a woman. Mine are big, especially against my much smaller body. But Ada's are like boulders on her chest. 

As a woman with large breasts I am aware of the strain of carrying those things around all day. So, I actually found myself engineering ways for Ada to take a load off; so to speak. 

Ada had Hilley in tow and Paul had Zeus beside him. Both seemed to be marching along with martial pride at the 88 steps of La Legion. 

We were making our way to our first class accommodations on the Eurostar, down the very busy and crowded platform at Paris Nord. 

If Paul did not have the influence he has it is likely that Zeus would have had to face the fact that he is actually a dog. But because Paul is who he is the creature seems to think he is ACTUALLY ex-Foreign Legion. 

As a result, Zeus was sauntering along with Gallic disdain written large on his muzzle, a rope of drool hanging off the corner of his lips like he had a lit Galloise cigarette. A Kepi and Legion Etrangere patch would have finished the ensemble. 

~

Paul

Now that the Eurostar is running, I never fail to marvel at the ease of a channel crossing. Our Premier Class cabin only had three other people in it beside us. So Hilley had the run of the train car. 

Hilley was in full little girl mode through the entire trip, scampering excitedly from window to window to look out; and sampling everything that the steward had to offer. 

She was especially thrilled by the 23 miles that the train spent in the cross channel tunnel, staring out the window like she was hypnotized by the lights passing by at over 180 miles per hour. 

She spent the first part of the tunnel section sitting on my lap; hugging my arm like a teddy bear. She was looking at the passing scene with her eyes wide open with wonder. 

Her mother thinks that I over-indulge her. But how could any male resist that combination of energy, beauty, charm and the unconditional love. 

I know that my kitten is her mother's spitting image so I am never concerned about her sense of values. But even if I were concerned, I know that her mother is wise and tough beyond her years. 

And she worships our daughter with a mother's ferocious love. So she would never allow her child to be anything but a decent and proper young woman. 

We both believe that it is important that Hilley learns about consideration for others at a young age since it is clear that between her beauty spirit and intelligence she is going to rule the male world. 

After five minutes of watching the tunnel flash past Hilley wandered off to sit with Ada. I moved over to sit next to her mother. 

Janey was looking particularly sexy without intending to. She had on a short traveling skirt without the nylons and still sported the three inch heels she had worn in the meeting. 

Janey does not need help with coloration since she is naturally dusky and spends enough time in the sun that her incredible legs always have the golden brown look that an expensive pair of nylons imparts. 

She had a light white silk top that covered her bra, which held her remarkable tits in sheer semi translucent splendor. She was watching our daughter with utter devotion and pride etched in her beautiful face. 

That look motivated me to slip into the seat next to her, brush back a strand of hair and kiss the graceful muscle of her neck. 

That is one of her number one hot buttons and a blush appeared and a forest of little goose bumps ran down her neck. She turned her head and looked at me. Sheer unadulterated lust was written in the depths of her eyes. 

She whispered harshly, "WC!! One minute! 

Then she rose with her natural pantherish grace and made her way down the train car to the toilet. I thought to myself, what the fuck was that??!!

Premier class Eurostar cars have a small airline style toilet at the front. Janey disappeared in there. All of us were sitting well back in the middle of the car except the three people who were not with our entourage. 

Two of them were sitting together in the back apparently making out in the dark of the tunnel and the third was asleep in a single seat slightly further up the car. 

I counted to 60 and rose and made my way as casually as possible to the front. 

I pushed on the folding doors of the toilet, which gave way instantly. Janey was standing just inside. She grabbed me by the arm and in one motion drew me in and threw the deadbolt on the door. 

I started to say something but she "shushed" me and took a step back to hop her beautiful muscular butt up on the sink. 

Then, she spread her legs as wide as a person could balancing on a toilet sink and pulled up her dress revealing nothing but her perfect pussy. She must have left her panties somewhere else. 

She was looking at me with a smoking hot "come hither" look that didn't require interpretation. 

I undid my belt, dropped my pants and advanced between those beautiful muscled thighs to plunge into a cauldron of heat and wetness. 

I know we were on a train full of people but I could not suppress a loud groan. 

She gasped and threw her head back. The sheer naughtiness of fucking her in the public toilet torqued me from genteel Eurostar passenger to lust crazed animal in approximately 5 nanoseconds. 

I began to pound her pussy like I was trying to start a fire the way a caveman might rub two sticks together. 

I looked down between us to where we were joined. That is something I normally can't do because her heavy tits block my view. But she was leaning far back on the sink with her head against the mirror and her mouth constricted into a perfect "O" of effort. 

My cock sliding in and out of her as we fucked was glistening with her copious juices. The smell of sex was driving me insane. 

I gathered her small hard body to mine and we kissed. Janey was doing that intimate thing that she occasionally does where she is totally open to me at both ends of her body. Her jaw was stretched as wide as she could get it, with her tongue dueling with mine. 

The heat from her mouth was intense. Her pussy on the other end was even more intensely hot, churning passionately. 

When she is in that state she is totally all-there for me, like she is a part of my own body. It is one of the most intimate feelings imaginable. 

We were both panting like we were running some sort of outrageous 40 yard dash and she was emitting quiet little moans. 

At the rate I was humping her I knew that I was going to explode faster than usual but she beat me to it. She hissed and clamped down on me and began to dramatically shake, while emitting little squeaks. 

How she managed to keep her ass on the sink was beyond me, but I never put any physical feat past Janey. 

I came like Mt. Vesuvius on a really productive morning, crushing her to me as we both quivered in ecstasy. That went on for a minute while we got our breath back. Then I slowly shrank out of her. 

She hopped down and began to rearrange herself while I pulled my pants and boxers back up. I buckled my belt, brushed a hand over my hair and pushed the door slowly open. I peeked out in order to determine whether anybody was out there for the show. 

Nothing had changed in the five minutes we had been in the toilet. Hilley was sitting on her knees on a seat staring out the window. Ada was watching Hilley as she pointed things out. 

Only Zeus was staring at me with his worldly look of je ne Sais qua that said he knew what had happened in there and as a man of the world he heartily approved. 

I sat back in my original seat thoroughly fucked and wondering how I could have ever been so lucky to ever find such a woman.

~

Janey

Paul was holding Hilley on his lap while she marveled at the light show going on out there in the Channel tunnel. The sight of the two of them together and the gentle and loving way he was holding her set off a rush of sheer arousal. 

There are times when I think that if Paul had to pick between me and Hilley he would choose her, not that he is ever going to have to make that choice. And that thought actually made me hornier for him. 

My sexuality is never far from the surface. And the mother in me suddenly wanted to have him right there on the spot. That emotion centered on our child. It was some kind of atavistic need to reinforce our sexual bond. 

I fucked people when I was young because I liked it. I still like it, perhaps too much. But now that we have a child sex provides an added bonding between husband and wife. And I was feeling that connection. 

I am not ashamed to admit that I am one of the horniest women walking the face of the earth. My life force is just that strong. As I sat and watched the two of them interact, the need to have him inside me was killing me. 

The added responsibility of rearing a child who you love to distraction, with a man who feels the same way about that child, was just driving me wild with a desire to fuck him. 

Hilley skipped happily off to sit with Ada and Paul came back to sit with me. He sat down with a particularly loving look in his eye, brushed a strand of my hair aside and kissed me tenderly on the right side of my neck. 

That shot a lightning bolt down to my pussy that started a fire that had to be quenched right HERE and right NOW! 

When I turned to look back at him my hunger must have been written in my eyes because he did a sort-of double take. 

I knew that I had to fuck him immediately or I was going to die. So I told him to meet me in the only private place I could think of, the toilet. 

When he opened the door one minute later I had already taken off my wet panties and left them hanging on the coat hook. The shear wickedness of my opening myself up to him in such a public place was adding fuel to my fire. 

I grabbed him, locked the door and hopped up on sink and spread my legs as widely as I could. 

I wanted to show him the thing that I needed him to pay immediate close attention to. 

The fact that I have a large jutting ass that fit nicely on the counter helped me in that process. 

I came the moment he entered me. It was just a little very satisfying flutter and pinch that he probably didn't even notice because he was pounding my pussy like he wanted to break it. 

He was bottoming out right at the top on my cervix and the sensation of being filled like that at the rate he was doing it drove me to another much stronger orgasm within a short couple of minutes. 

This one was a full-out clamping, milking series of earthquake contractions that I thought would never end. My hands turned to claws and I began to shudder wildly under the impact of what I was feeling as Paul crushed me to his chest. 

He shot into me so strongly that I thought he was going to set off another earthquake but the little lady in my head took that moment to remind me we were in a public bathroom. 

He shrank out of me, reached down and pulled up his pants while we both were catching our breath. Then kissing me one more time he surreptitiously peeled back the door and seeing nobody out there he disappeared nonchalantly back down the aisle. 

I did a little cleaning up myself, got back into my panties one leg at a time and started my own nonchalant stroll down the aisle. 

The situation was exactly as we had left it, except Zeus was grinning at me with a look of canine worldliness in his eye. There are times I think the creature really is French.

~ 

Paul

We got into St Pancras late in the afternoon. We took a car service over to the Baglioni. Janey insisted on "roughing" it the first time we came to London. So we took the train. But we were traveling with a lot of excess baggage now, child, governess, and dog. So we were happy to have all of the help we could get. 


A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 01



I had hired a Maybach and driver to get us around town. Janey wanted to tour along the Thames for Hilley's sake. So we arranged to motor into the City on the North side of the river and thence to Westminster and on to Hyde Park. 

We looped down on the A201 to where it crosses the Thames on Blackfriar's Bridge. We had to do that In order to get to a starting point east of the City. Then we made our way slowly along the Embankment all the way to Birdcage Walk and from there north to Knightsbridge and the Park. 

Most of historic London passed outside our windows; from St. Paul's, Fleet Street and the Inns of Court to the buildings along the Strand, Horse Guards and White Hall, to the grand centerpiece which was Westminster and Parliament. 

Hilley was entranced. She was thrilled by Paris but London's display of unadulterated pomp and circumstance clearly touched something in her soul. 

I marveled at how such a young person could have such a deep feeling for the human condition. We were passing the new Globe Theater on the other side of the river as I was thinking of that and Hilley's precociousness reminded me of Shakespeare. I mused to myself that there are just people born in this world who have that capacity. 

I made a mental note to myself to make sure that Hilley saw and experienced it all before we left London. 

~

Janey

This was the first time in London for Hilley so I wanted her to get a view of the incredible history of the place. 

There are very few cities in the world where you can literally take a one hour drive and see every aspect of the memorable events that have shaped your OWN life. 

In the drive we passed places with famous names. But more importantly monumental events happened there. 

We would see architecture spanning two thousand years; ranging from the ancient walls of Roman London, through the Saxon Edward the Confessor's Cathedral at Westminster, through the Norman Tower of London and its bloody history to the preserved pock marks of bombs dropped in the London Blitz. 

All of these lay within our short drive. Artists like Shakespeare and Dickens had lived and been inspired there. And famous monarchs like Henry the Second, Henry the Eighth, his daughter Queen Elizabeth and Queen Victoria had all ruled there.

We looped along the Thames and I could see the Inns of Court, which more-or-less gave us our legal system, while a replica of Shakespeare's Globe Theater passed across the River. The wonders of Parliament were approaching in front of us while a giant Ferris wheel built to celebrate the millennium was spinning slowly to our left. 

We looped up past Regent's park and cut over to Knightsbridge passing Harrods in all of its Victorian glory. Hilley and I had a long date with that place in our future. As we crossed over to Hyde Park corner, we even passed 221B Baker Street, the fictional home of Sherlock Holmes. 

The park itself was sliding by on our right in the late afternoon sun with picnickers sprawled in the lawn near Albert Hall and the Albert Memorial, which in its baroque curlicues must be the singular ugliest memorial in the world. 

Hilley was entranced through the entire ride, her intelligence was on full display. London is not as "showy" as Paris. But its appeal to your intellect is compelling. 

Hilley's wonderful mind was soaking that all in at an incredible rate.

We arrived at our destination. A battalion of valets began unloading our car while I walked Hilley up to our room with the concierge. The man was entranced by her beauty, as anybody would be. But the excited running commentary that she was providing about what she had just seen would have done credit to a museum docent. He was impressed to say the least. 

He was less impressed by the hound but being well bred and English he chose not to notice that we were accompanied by a dog. 

Zeus was checking the place out like he was planning on moving to other quarters if this one didn't suit his needs. That is the curse of Gallic arrogance. 

Paul was doing all of the things you have to do to get a group like ours checked in. I was both pleased and disappointed when I saw the room. 

I was pleased because it was splendid accommodations. I was less pleased because Paul and I had planned to play a little game that we occasionally like to play to spice up our married sex life and tonight was the night. 

Hilly, Ada and Zeus were obvious potential handicaps in that game. But then again the challenge was stimulating in itself.

~

Paul

There was the usual period of settling in at the hotel, which involved getting the dog properly oriented to life in a five star. That orientation was followed by a walk across the street to Hyde Park where he did his business. 

It was time for high tea when I finally got all of the details of Zeus's daily constitutional sorted out with him. 

The last time I stayed at the Baglioni I had an unfortunate incident involving several gallons of English beer. Since that time I have been careful about eating and drinking in moderation. 

We ordered the classic English high-tea service. And we included Ada with the group. Zeus had been stationed upstairs with instructions to protect our things. 

We had stayed in a single room the first time we came to London, but this time we had numerous extras with us. So we were staying in a suite. With Zeus posted in the living room, probably knocked out on the couch.

Hilley was in a little girly Adrianna Papell tea dress that her mother had picked out for her, complete with long white gloves. Her mother was in a similar item, which showed off her extremely feminine curves. 

Janey takes Hilley's social upbringing seriously and the dress and carefully coached etiquette were all part of her master plan to turn our daughter into a highly knowledgeable and sophisticated debutant well before puberty. 

Ada is far too German to dress like an English lady. She was wearing a white shirt and a dark worsted skirt with a certain amount of Teutonic defiance. 

We had the usual first course of tea sandwiches, unsubstantial cucumber and egg salad things with the crusts cut off. 

Personally I don't eat rabbit food. But I also didn't want to get plastered. So I nibbled on those insults to my manhood with ill grace. 

The scones in the second course were a different matter. I devoured them with clotted cream and jam ignoring the third course of lemon and fruit pastries. 

Janey is extremely well bred and genteel and she has been doing tea since she was three years old. She has brought up her daughter to be just as adept in this weighty English ritual. 

Both of them were studies in gracefulness and culture while I was dribbling jam and clotted cream on the front of my shirt. As a result, they were acting like they didn't know who the stranger was who had sat down at their table. 

Meanwhile they were carrying on a polite, highborn conversation about a Jane Austen novel. I hate tea and I couldn't make it through a Jane Austen novel with a gun to my head. However, my wife and daughter are aristocrats. So they managed to drink their pot of tea without looking even remotely disdainful at the pint I had ordered. 

Ada, being German Swiss, was all-in with me on the beer. 

Ada had turned out to be a surprise. I had hired her as a governess for Hilley because she had impeccable credentials. But she had turned out to have a lot of good humored German compatibility with the family and total devotion to Hilley that promoted her into our inner circle. 

She was not a beautiful girl by a long shot but she did possess the largest pair of tits I have seen on a human female. Those got her occasional admiring glances from the younger men in the room. 

I was thinking to myself, "Are all men that simple minded" when the little voice inside MY head said, "Yes! Yes WE men all are."

We moved into the restaurant for dinner. I love English cooking. It is hearty comfort food. Janey hates it for that exact same reason. And she has co-opted our daughter in her ongoing effort to drench the world in sauce and truffles. 

Ada is German so of course she was on my side in this struggle. But the dear sweet girl is too devoted to Hilly to do anything but agree with her mother. 

So as usual I was on the outside in that argument. 

I admire Janey's care and attention to the upbringing of our daughter and her impeccably patrician breeding. So I leave all of the social guidance and judgment to Janey and just revel in my lack of class. 

I know that Hilley loves me anyhow, no matter how low bred I actually am.

After dinner we went upstairs to our suite to get ready to go out. 

Janey and I had planned a thing we do once in a while to spice up our relationship. Janey has a mouthwateringly creative imagination when it comes to sex. She also has a predator's hunting predispositions. She sometimes likes to indulge both of those instincts. 

Before we met she would just hunt men when that need arose to do it. And of course she was the best there ever was at the ancient female rite of proving who the queen bitch was on any given night in any given bar. 

But because she is totally and without question committed to our marriage and me, it is hard for her to be both huntress and faithful wife. 

So we have a little game that we play that allows her to occasionally exercise her hunting skills within the bounds of our marriage. 

We adopt fictional "characters" and we go to a high class club. The places we choose have to contain a selection of attractive and sophisticated men. 

Our "characters" have a back-story, like "here for a convention", or "traveling on business", or in her case it is often "here to see my boyfriend but he stood me up." 

Janey sits at the bar waiting to be approached. Her looks and body guarantee that that never takes very long. Then she engages in the small-talk that is required to decide whether she likes the man. 

If she decides that her quarry for the evening is acceptable she allows the man to "romance" her. This all takes place in a very public and non-sexual way. 

I sit somewhere else and wait until things have progressed to a point where the other guy thinks that he might have a chance to fuck her. Then I step up next to her and essentially "pick her up." 

She makes a show of "deciding" and then chooses me, much to the disappointment of the other guy. 

We then go up to my "room" as if I had just gotten lucky with a total stranger. The sex that triggers is always something deliciously naughty, just as if we were having a one-night stand. 

When we can hold ourselves in character we even go through the uncomfortable morning-after rituals and "depart" by swearing to never tell our spouses about our little affair and also promising to "meet again." 

Needless to say this little game has led to some spectacular escapades, without coming close to violating a marriage vow. 

~

Janey

We were going to play one of my favorite games. It is a little elaborate and it takes some planning but it allows me to reenact the amazing thrill I got when I fucked Paul for the first time. 

Essentially we go to the right kind of club, no pool halls or biker bars, and I sit until I am "picked up" by one of its denizens. 

I always have a story about why I am there by myself. My favorite is that I have been stood-up, or sometimes just been dumped, by my boyfriend. 

If I play the part right I convey my desire to get back at the bastard by sport fucking the first person I meet; maybe even YOU sailor. 

That normally leads to a round of romancing where I can wind the fellow up, without violating any of the strict rules I have about loyalty to my husband. 

I give Paul a little signal when I feel like I have played with the dude enough. 

Paul will usually be sitting alone somewhere in the club, looking like an international man of mystery. Sometimes he will appear to have just walked in and spotted me. He will approach me with a line aimed at seducing me up to his room. 

One time, with a devilish grin on his face, he even offered me money to fuck him. That got the shit beaten out of him later. But since I was in the role I went along with the plot twist of "Janey as hooker." 

I learned in my teens that being successful on the meat rack depends as much on HOW you dress, as HOW you look. 

If you cover up too much they can't see the goods and they will pass you by. If you dress too conservatively men won't come over because very few of them are there to engage in intellectual conversation. If you dress like a slut you are going to definitely attract men but you probably won't like what happens afterward. 

I put on an expensive "little black dress" that showed off both my legs and my money. Sitting on any bar stool men can see your legs. And I know that mine are still perfectly shaped and toned. 

My quads are especially well developed from dance as are my hip muscles and sitting with my legs crossed in a ladylike fashion presents a picture of female lushness that most men can't resist. 

Of course I am aware that the endowment that seals the deal is my chest. But it is never a good idea to show off a lot of cleavage because a busty girl in a low cut sweater generally conveys cheap. 

Instead I cover the goods with something expensive that buttons up above the swell of my breasts. The aim is to intrigue men; make them want to see what is under the dress. It also lets me put on a bra that is capable of hoisting the girls up to impressive standards. 

Men don't realize that women like me can't get the job done with demi-cups. We need full sized industrial strength bras to support all of that weight and those don't coordinate so well with wispy tops. 

I dressed and did my makeup and hair. My hair is cut in a classic long haired preppie bob, which gathers it softly around my face and makes it easy to maintain. And I never wear much makeup, just a little lip gloss and a little touch around my eyes. 

My perfume is something specially blended for my body chemistry that I buy from a perfumery in Paris. Paul says that it drives him mad with lust every time I wear it, so I wear it a lot. 

I had more than usual on tonight because I wanted to send a subliminal sexual message without giving any overt appearance that I was trying. 

When I looked in the mirror I could see myself in all of my curvy, voluptuous glory. 

I am aware that some men are not attracted to a woman with an hour glass shape like mine. But I am also aware that the men who like big breasts, tiny waists and powerful hips REALLY like the way I look. And those are the people I want to get to know better. 

So seeing myself reflected in the mirror I was confident that I had pulled together the right lure for a stimulating evening. 

~

Paul

We needed a room to go to because we were staying in a suite with our daughter and her governess and the dog. So I rented one very similar to the one we stayed in the last time that we were at the Baglioni. I told Ada that we would be in that nearby room, only for tonight. 

Ada made it clear in her own Teutonic way that she knew what THAT meant. I made a mental note to give her a nice bonus. 

Janey was dressed to kill in a short black cocktail dress that displayed a generous amount of her stunning legs and left intriguing mountains under her top. 

She has the hugest most gorgeous eyes a woman could ever ask for and frankly she needs no makeup to enhance their loveliness. So, expertly made up the way she was tonight, her eyes were absolutely hypnotic in their depth and beauty. 

Then she walked by me to the door, trailing a scent which nearly melted me into a pool of lust right there in the middle of the floor. The old cliché, "Shooting fish in a barrel" came to mind.

Since we had a few encumbrances in the form of Hilley and the dog we couldn't stray too far by having my "room" in another hotel. And we had business the next day. So we decided to keep the game in-house. 

We took the elevator down to the bar kissing passionately. Then when the doors opened, we were two total strangers who went our separate ways. 

I have to admit I took a long lingering look at that truly splendid ass twitching its way off into the distance on those five inch heels. 

At that moment I experienced a sudden feeling of profound loss, like a passing cloud darkening a summer day. My inner voice commented, "And don't ever forget what it feels like to NOT have her in your life." 

I thought to myself, "Sometimes my inner voice can be such a shortsighted asshole. The only thing that is ever going to separate her from me will be the grim reaper" 

We were staying at the Baglioni and they have a very decent lounge right off the dining room, which is called the "Brunello." We were both eventually headed there but we were two strangers at that point. 

Among her many talents Janey is an excellent actress, almost living the part she is playing. I didn't know who she was going to be tonight but I decided I was the lonely businessman, a part I played in real life many times before I was lucky enough to meet and marry her. 

I went out into the street and bought a Times and a Sun. After a great day, it was raining hard and so I used the Sun to cover my head on the way back inside, I wasn't worried about getting the front page wet since the appeal of that paper is buried way behind there. 

I was planning on sitting at a table reading my paper until she appeared. That turned out to be a bad idea since you would have to have the night vision of a wombat to read anything in that place. Instead, I decided to people-watch; which is something I like to do anyhow. 

With the rain and the weekday evening the place was more-or-less empty. Janey had not made an appearance but there were six other people along the bar. 

There were three guys in my general age range and relative occupational profile. There was a single guy who definitely had the appearance of somebody who was looking for company and two women down the bar who looked like professional women taking in a little refreshment after work. One was tall and the other was very short. Both looked drunk. 

The single guy was big and good looking, perhaps thirty. He was drinking whisky neat. He looked like he worked out. And he wanted everybody there to know that. So he would occasionally flex his shoulders and neck muscles, while he admired the view in the mirror behind the bar. 

I thought to myself, "I really hope she chooses that one because it will be a pleasure shutting that douche-bag down." 

Then Janey made her appearance. It was obvious that she was playing "little girl lost" tonight. 

She crept timidly to the bar radiating self-conscious. She exuded neglected housewife dressed up to go out on the town. The bartender came over to her and she looked confused and then asked for a rum and coke. 

I knew that that selection was intended to convince everybody around her that she didn't hang around bars much. She slammed the first one and asked for another, making it obvious that she was steeling herself for her first foray into extra-marital sex. 

It was a performance worthy of the Old Vic and frankly the prospect of giving this poor shy woman her first orgasm was even turning me on. That thought had clearly occurred to the single guy as well. 

Janey, in a wonderful exercise in gamesmanship, had chosen a seat on the far end of the bar two seats past the drunk women. That meant that whoever chose to approach her would have to sit between her and them. They were getting rowdier by the minute. 

Her sitting there was undoubtedly designed to throw any prospective lothario off his game. 

If you knew why she was really there, you would have to marvel at how wonderfully practiced she was at the pickup game. She had really been single in barroom situations for only three years before marrying me. But she was obviously an apex predator. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 01



The single guy was eyeing Janey speculatively, when one of the businessmen surprised both him and me by ordering a rum and coke and strolling down to the end of the bar. 

He offered Janey a refill and sat down next to her. She smiled at him with her eyes and downed that one too. Things were getting more interesting.

They talked conversationally, he was obviously introducing himself and she was conveying her role of "housewife who doesn't want to talk about it." Her performance as a "woman in conflict" was worthy of a veteran of the Royal Shakespeare. 

At that point single guy couldn't stand it any longer. He ALSO ordered a rum and coke and wandered down to her. He offered it to her. Then he stood and leaned on the end of the bar on Janey's other side. 

There are normally two motives for guys who approach women in bars. One type just wants the game of interacting with a desirable woman in a public setting. All they are really getting is the thrill of the hunt and they normally achieve that goal just by making the woman interested in them. 

Business man was good looking, charming and witty and if he left the place feeling like he had "bagged" Janey that way; that would feed his ego. 

The second type of guy is a lot less complex and a lot more dangerous. They are purely looking to fuck somebody. Single guy had that written all over his face. 

I saw the same introductory thing going back and forth between single guy and Janey and then she began to convey sexual availability with every fiber of her dramatic persona. 

She started the touching and deep lingering looks that all women do when they are interested in more than just conversation. She was leaning back in her chair with those magnificent boobs pointing in the general direction of the ceiling and crossing and uncrossing her legs. 

She looked restless and horny, which she probably actually was. 

She was also doing drunken pretty well, which I hoped was just acting. She had had four rum and cokes in about 20 minutes after all. 

Normally I give her plenty of time to toy with her prey but I was thinking I had better get closer to the action. So I strode up to a seat at the bar between the business guy and the two women and ordered a pint. 

As I came up I saw single guy slip his arm around her shoulder and pull her to him in a hug. She went along with it like she was beginning to feel the liquor, giving his arm a full boob rub with her right tit and then pressing it into his side. 

As I sat down he was commiserating with her about her husband's lack of attention to her. 

That was the point where I discovered that she was holding up her end of the conversation in a perfect, unbreakable English accent. 

That blew my mind. My little voice said with wonder, "She must have been conversing with those guys all along in their native tongue." 

The little voice marveled, "Is there anything that this woman can't do?" 

I covered for my surprise by looking speculatively at her as I sat down, like I was checking her out for the first time. The conclusion was that she was the most stunning creature who had ever sat on a bar stool. 

And I thought to myself there is no way that anybody with half a brain cell would buy the story that this woman would be ignored by any male of the human species. That is unless they were trying to get into her pants, which single guy clearly had in mind. 

He tried to kiss her but she turned her head at the last second as if to talk to business man, giving single guy a face full of hair. I thought to myself, "Still in total control." 

The single guy was getting a little rough with attempting to get her exclusive attention and I might have stepped in at that point but the business guy was also feeling his aggressive male oats. 

He pulled her by the arm out of single guy's grip to turn and face him. He had clearly decided to go the warm and sympathetic "good guy" route. He took both of her hands in his, while leaving the appearance that he was unaware that she was resting both of her boobs on the backs of them. 

He talked to her in very sympathetic terms about his own wife and how he felt it was important for open and honest communication in a marriage. This was all going on while he was massaging her chest with the tops of his hands. 

Janey pulled her hands away as if the conversation was embarrassing her, thereby removing his hands from her tits. Then she asked with a timorous, "But what can I do to make him want me?" 

I could see that both businessman and single guy had some particular ideas about that. But at that point Janey announced that she had to go to the washroom. 

She hopped off her stool and as she disappeared all three of us watched those marvelous hips twitch down the short hallway. We then turned to each other and we all exchanged meaningful glances. 

Janey emerged a couple of minutes later and made her way back to the bar. She seemed to stumble, which is very unlike my cat-like wife, and then catch her balance by grabbing my arm and the bottom of my coat. 

She said in a perfect south London accent, "Sorry, too much to drink." 

I looked down and saw that she had covertly stuffed her black lace thong in my suit coat pocket. The Artful Dodger himself couldn't have done it any better. 

I got an instant hard on at the thought of my gorgeous wife sitting there on a bar stool between two strange men with no underwear. The little voice in my head laughed and marveled, "That little Vixen!" 

Janey said in a flustered voice, "You men have me all confused." 

Then she then did the signal with her beautiful natural eyebrows. The signal said she had had enough. 

I was just about to start the extraction process when the drunken woman, who was sitting next to me, decided it was time for me to notice HER. So she spilled a drink down my pants. 

The flurry of apologies that followed took me out of the game for a minute and in that time single guy took the initiative with Janey. 

Janey was still in character but she was looking a little nervous as he pulled her by the hand off of her stool and then marched her toward a table for a more "intimate" discussion. 

While I was getting the soaked pants problem sorted out Janey found herself one-on-one in a booth with a guy who was clearly not going to take "no" for an answer. 

Single guy had her in a clinch with his hand on her left boob about to try to kiss her again when businessman rode to her rescue by marching over and sitting down next to her on her other side. 

That was a relief because I sensed that Janey was just about to break character. She has a wicked temper when she is being mauled, and it can get very painful for the person doing the mauling. So business man's actions probably saved single guy's life, or at least his manhood. 

Meanwhile, I finally got most of the ice out of my underwear and finished wiping myself down. I then also walked over to the table and introduced myself as an American stringer who was covering the bar scene for the Sun. I figured sleazy tabloid might make an interesting angle for my approach. 

Janey eyed me with horror and said, "Please don't tell anybody I was here. My husband will commit murder if he finds out." 

Then I said, "Does your husband realize how beautiful and sexy you are?" 

She dimpled nicely at me and said, "Why thank you kind sir." Businessman and single guy both were sending me "piss-off" vibes. So of course I pulled out a chair and sat down. 

We eyed each other, each of us snorting and pawing the ground. 

I decided it was time to cut to the chase so I said, "What a beautiful woman like you really needs is a good fucking from a REAL man." 

She looked totally shocked and said with mock anger, "And what makes you think that you are man enough to provide that." 

I said, "Come up to my room and I'll show you." 

Both of the other men looked like they expected outrage. But instead she looked speculatively at me and said, "And what will I tell my husband?" 

I said, "Where do you live?" 

It was obvious she hadn't thought of that so I covered for her with, "What's the matter, afraid to tell us where you live?" 

She said defiantly, "Near Croydon!" 

I said, "How did you get here?" 

She said, "I drove." 

I said, "Call him and tell him that your car is broken down and you are stranded here for the night. Tell him you are going to get a hotel and you will be back in the morning." 

Janey, still totally in character, said tremulously, "Will you be kind to me? I have never been with any other man but my husband?" 

I thought that both single guy and businessman were going to pass out from sheer lust at THAT revelation. And the hard on her little piece of acting had given me was threatening to break my zipper 

The people with businessman began to leave at that point and he excused himself with a cheery, "My associates are leaving and I must be off." 

He could see that things were getting way too complicated, so discretion took the better part of valor. 

Single guy was made of sterner stuff. He said, "My flat is around the corner, you can stay with me. I guarantee that you will have the fucking of your life." 

Then he settled back smugly flexing his pecs and looked at her like her choice had been made for her. 

She looked hesitant and said, "My husband is an important man and he has people everywhere. He might learn about this." 

I said, "I'll pay for a dummy room for you as long as you come along with me right this second." 

She chewed on her lip, anguish written on her face and then seemed to come to some deep personal decision. 

She said, "I will come with you but I may not spend the night. I have a child." 

Single guy looked like that was the last thing he expected. He slammed his hand down on the table in front of him. He looked angry. He said incredulously, "You would choose this old guy over me?" 

She said suddenly very pointedly, "Yes, he looks like he can give me what I have to have and I am certain that you can't." 

At that single guy stood up and stormed angrily out of the bar. Janey was deep in character and she actually looked appalled at single guy's violent reaction. 

I was suffering from a case of advanced horniness and my only reaction was to think about how to get this beautiful English lady up to my "room."

~

Janey

We kissed on the elevator. Even though I was planning a night of passion it still felt like we were saying goodbye and I hate to say goodbye to him under any circumstances. 

The elevator "binged" and I rearranged my dress, which had ridden up almost to my ass. Both of us stepped out as complete strangers and walked in different directions. 

I could sense him looking longingly at me as I walked away and so I gave him the full swaying hips and twitching buns exhibition, just to remind him what he had. 

It was raining out so I wanted to stay inside the hotel. I went into the restaurant and ordered Pernod, which is my favorite aperitif. 

From my seat I saw Paul come back in from outside with a paper over his head. He was dressed in one of his "casual" Savile Row suits, light brown in color with a dark brown shirt and contrasting tie. 

If I wasn't already married to him I would have skipped across the lobby and proposed marriage to him on the spot. He looked like he had just stepped off the cover of the "CIA Monthly", or whatever magazine they publish out there in Langley. 

He disappeared into the bar. I took my time finishing my drink and thinking about my character for the night. 

I wanted to be somebody different for him. When we actually met I was an experienced woman, free from any anxiety about the act of love. So what I decided I would be for the night was the exact opposite; a woman who had never had sex with anybody but her husband and was totally frightened of the act itself. 

I would be hesitant, inexperienced, timid and shy, and frightened by the thought of letting myself go; basically everything I am not. 

My character had dressed to go out on the town to prove to herself that she was still attractive to men. But since she had met and married her husband when she was a very young girl she had no experiences outside her house, especially with being picked up in bars. 

Because I had to be local in order to sell the story I needed an English accent. One of my talents is mimicry so I decided that the long vowels, hard consonants and the dropped "tees" of a posh London accent would work best. 

I confirmed that my accent was believable by practicing it on the waiter and the guy at the reception desk. Since the guy at reception had seen me check in as an American he was scratching his head about who I really was. 

I walked timidly into the bar. The character was descending on me and Janey would soon become a scorned suburban housewife. But Janey DID take the time to get familiar with the situation before she departed. 

Paul was sitting unobtrusively in the back of the bar, looking at me with wonder in his eyes. There were three of the classic English business types doing the usual male bonding ritual that all salesmen go through in bars. 

Then there was my probable target for the night, the guy couldn't have been more silly and lecherous looking if he had been sitting there stroking a handlebar mustache. 

Finally there were two women down the bar who had obviously been there for a while and who radiated availability to anybody with a reasonable offer and a dick. 

I walked shyly up to the bartender and asked for a drink that a chaste suburban housewife would think was refined, like a rum and coke. 

That got me looks from every one of the males. I don't know whether they had all noticed me come in but they were all noticing me now. 

I slammed it, trying to get my courage up, and asked for another. The barkeep gave it to me and I took it to the end of the bar, radiating how uncomfortable the whole scene made me. 

The two women ignored me but one of the salesmen at the end of the bar brought me a drink. He was there for some sort of sales meeting and he was very good looking and charming. We had a polite conversation along the lines of, "What is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

I told him that I usually didn't go outside the house, but I had just found out that my husband was having an affair and I HAD to get away. His look was sympathy overlaying lust. 

We talked about how cruel unfaithful men could be. That was a line I knew he was spinning because he was wearing a wedding ring and he already had his hand lying casually on the top of my bare leg. 

At that point the one who I expected to show up appeared with his offering. I hate rum and cokes but since I was in character I thanked him and pounded it to sustain my courage. He got the whole story while the sales guy sat listening. Sales guy had not bothered to remove his hand from my leg. 

The younger guy put his arm around me as if to console me and I gave him a full boob job just to turn his temperature up. 

The sales guy removed his hand from my leg long enough to pull me away from the younger guy and actually started bouncing my tits on the back of his hands while he held both of my hands in sympathy. In my role as timid suburban housewife I couldn't exactly call him out about what he was doing. 

So as Paul appeared next to him, like an additional suitor, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. As soon as I got in there I held on to the partition between commodes and stripped my sexy black lace thong off and on the way back to my seat slipped them into Paul's pocket, just to say "hello."

I had reached the stage where I wanted Paul right then and there, preferably spread out on the bar. So I gave him the extraction signal, just as he was getting a crotch full of icy drink from the hussy sitting next to him. 

It was a brutal maneuver but it got his attention. While he and the woman and the salesman were sorting that out the single guy grabbed my hand and walked me over to a dark booth where he proceeded to work over my left tit like he was trying to unscrew it. 

Besides losing style points Janey was about to emerge and kick him in the balls. The sales guy came over just in time to prevent that from happening and sat down. 

I went back into character looking totally embarrassed that I had let another man touch my bosom. Then Paul appeared and I could tell by the look in his eye that it was time to move to the next stage of our little game.

We quickly did the offer and hesitation, decision and acceptance thing that we have done many times before. 

It was obvious that the single guy thought he was going to get fucked by me, and since he had generally pissed me off already I told him that I didn't think he was man enough to please me properly. 

THAT got the angry reaction that I wanted. 

But of course little miss innocent would be startled and appalled by the violence of his departure. So I sat there with my hand on my chest looking frightened. Paul stood and offered his hand saying, "Shall we go up to my room? We can discuss your marital problems in much greater depth there." 

I was thinking," I'll show him depth, SNORT! The way I felt after dealing with those other two guys this is going to be one of the deepest experiences he has ever had."

~

Paul

She stayed in character all the way up to the room. Chatting with me in such an amazingly perfect upper class London accent that I was wondering if Janey had a twin over here and that I had accidently picked HER up. 

She was also doing hesitant and frightened so convincingly that I was trying to figure out how to even approach her. 

We stepped into the room and I flipped on the lamp in the corner, giving the room a soft amber glow. I drew the curtain over the window. Hyde Park was silent outside in the soft rain. 

She was standing uncertainly in the middle of the room, like she didn't know what was going to happen next. 

She is short but she is well muscled, lush and ripe figured. So she appears to be a very substantial woman. 

I felt the same rush of pure desire that I felt when I first laid eyes on her twelve years ago. It was an uncanny job of acting. The way she was standing there so nervously I felt like I was seeing her for the first time. 

I walked up to her and gazed into those fathomlessly deep eyes. Instead of the usual hunger they were full of childish innocence. I said, "Do we need to do this slowly?" 

She said, "Please, I don't know how to start."

Okay, I can play that game. So I said, "May I kiss you?" My inner voice was saying, "It always pays to be polite." 

She actually looked fearful, gulped and said, "Yes, but you are the first person besides my husband who I have kissed in twelve years, and I am afraid you will be disappointed." 

I said, "Come here" and very gently placed my hands on her back. She timidly stepped forward into me and against my body. The feeling of her huge tits against my lower chest was suddenly new and wonderful. 

My little voice was saying, "Aha, you've been taking things for granted." 

I lowered my face to her lips and kissed her. She kissed me back chastely with her lips but that was all. I broke the kiss and she was looking at me wide-eyed, with a look in her eye like she had never been kissed before, and she had just discovered she liked it. 

We were both standing in the middle of the room with me holding her, one hand lightly behind her back and one behind her lower waist, just above her huge round ass. I lowered my lips to hers one more time and just nibbled on her lips. 

She began to breathe a little heavier. I flirted with her lips for a minute or two and then moved across her beautiful face to snack on an ear. She made a little sound and stepped the rest of the way forward plastering herself against me. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 01



I kissed down her neck to the neckline of her dress. I could hear her breathing loudly now. 

I went back to her lips. She was panting and her mouth was slightly open. I just teased her lips with my tongue and suddenly her jaw relaxed and her mouth opened to me and I was totally inside her wide sensual mouth. 

It was hot in there. 

Our tongues dueled back and forth as the noise of her breathing continued to increase in volume. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes again. 

She was looking at me with an absolutely orgiastic wide-eyed stare, lost in her own feelings. 

I reached with my hand and slowly unzipped her little black dress all the way to her butt. She gave a quiet little moan. I looked back into her eyes and she was staring at me without seeing me. I slipped the front of the dress down exposing her breasts in their black lacy bra. 

She had her bra set to "stun" and the vision of the overspill of her huge tits was breathtaking. In the back of my mind I knew that she had the most glorious set of boobs in the universe. But I realized that I hadn't taken enough time recently to appreciate how truly marvelous and womanly they were. 

The little voice in my head said with sarcastic anger, "Remembering a few things that you might have forgotten, you moron?" 

I undid her bra and let it slip down her arms to rest on the top of the dress. She was now naked from the waist up. 

I looked at those amazing breasts. They were enormous, full and firm, perfectly shaped and as she moved her arms back to my shoulders they didn't jiggle as much as they lilted magically, with symmetric waves running through them as they bounced. Her nipples were huge and brown and quaveringly erect. They looked intimidatingly functional. 

I was holding her and looking at her like I had never seen her breasts before. She was looking back at me with wonder written all over her face, like she had never experienced being examined like that. 

In some ways that was true since I was seeing her intense physical attractiveness in a completely different light tonight. 

My little voice was annoyed with me, "You've been paying attention to the wrong things you dumb shit. If it were anybody else but Janey she would had been fucking the gardener by now. Make sure you tell her every day what a totally spectacular woman she is." 

The exploration of the woman who was my wife, but not my wife continued. I moved to drop her dress to the floor. She stepped back in order to clear her legs. As it fell all that I could see was perfection. 

Her figure was like something out of a renaissance sculpture or maybe an anatomy textbook. Her stomach down to her pussy was perfectly shaped, with smooth little hills and valleys that screamed female fertility. 

Her waist was a tiny bridge joining her spectacular upper body to her outrageously wide and tightly muscled hips. I knew that she had the strength and grace of a cat and those are the source of her power. But the extreme contrast between her waist and her hips was outrageously sexual. 

One of the initial things that I noticed about her when we first made love was the fresh natural smell of her skin and hair, which is like bright sunlight on the most luxuriant garden imaginable. It is the smell of good health and outdoors coupled with a bouquet of earth goddess scent. 

Tonight she had on the man killing perfume that she buys from a little perfumery in Paris. That concoction is designed to drive men wild. The musky scent of her growing arousal mixed with her natural healthy smell and her mind-altering perfume made me insane with desire. 

I didn't need to remove her panties. She had done that for me downstairs. I desperately shed every stitch of my clothes while I was holding her with my other arm at arms-length studying her. 

We were naked. Then we came back together. I could feel my rock hard cock between us poking her firm belly. I looked into her eyes. She was still wide eyed looking at me like a bird that had been hypnotized by a snake. It was like she was feeling things that she didn't understand. 

I dropped my mouth to hers and crushed her to me. She gasped loudly. She is tiny yet substantial and the sensation of that full round body, which is both small and muscularly wide at the same time flattened against me, was beyond description. 

I had not touched a single hot button that she owned and yet we were both panting loudly. We kissed passionately, open mouthed for several minutes. It was like I was kissing another woman, one who was just discovering the depths of her passion. 

I looked once more into her eyes. The strange woman was still in there looking back. She said with almost innocent earnestness, "Fuck me!?" 

I led her by one hand and she lay gracefully on the bed, one leg out and one leg slightly bent with the knee raised. I lay down next to her and lightly stroked her breast. She moaned loudly and her hips bucked. 

I moved my hand down to that beautiful pussy and dipped my finger into it. She had been staring at me with the same wide-eyed and almost innocent stare she had been giving me since we started this. When I slid my finger into her boiling hot slit her eyes rolled up in her head and she came instantly, loudly and violently. 

I held my hand on her mound while she humped it crying out urgently. The muscles in her legs stood out in stark relief as she stretched her legs straight out in front of her on the bed. Her toes were curled to a point where I couldn't see them on her feet. Her stomach muscles were churning and jumping like angry ocean surf. 

She opened her eyes when the climax washed out of her. Janey was back and she was massively hungry. 

She unceremoniously rolled me on top of her, inserted me, groaned loudly, wrapped her legs around my hips and began bucking like she was going to die if she didn't quickly finish what we had just started. 

I was slamming into her and her small body literally bounded up into the air and back down on the bed from the force. The humping made her huge breasts bounce in a number of different directions at once and gyrate in elliptical circles on her chest. She was shrieking and moaning while clawing my back to ribbons. 

Her wild bucking meant that we were going to reach the end of the line a lot sooner than I wanted, but biology is biology. When I came, the world contracted down to what was going on in my balls and I literally saw spots. 

She yelled, "Ohhhhhhhh, Yessssssssssss!!" Then, as she does when she can't handle the convulsions, she immediately passed out colder than a mackerel with her insides violently working me over. 

It took me several minutes to get enough oxygen back into my system so that I could think rationally. Janey was still out like a light but her insides continued to frantically churn. Her occasional full body shaking and her frantic rapid breathing told me she was still alive. 

I rolled off her and looked at her lying there spread-eagled. And as I often think in time like this I said to myself, "I cannot believe that this amazing woman is mine." 

~ 

Janey

I think it was the accent that caused it. I am a natural mimic. It is a talent. I don't know where I got it from but I have always had the ability to imitate any accent. And even though I have not danced professionally since my teens, 31 years of intensive training will turn you into a superb actress. 

Good dancers have to BE the part that they are dancing, especially in the ballet which is my specialty. So I am used to putting on a character like a second skin and becoming that person for the duration of the ballet. 

This evening, it seemed as if doing the accent had driven me deep into the role that I was playing. And I found it so intriguing that I just kept burrowing deeper and deeper until I found myself becoming the poor frightened and neglected housewife who I was pretending to be. 

As we walked up to his room I was sensing all of the nervousness and trepidation that an inexperienced woman would have if she were going someplace to have sex with a strange man. 

I sensed the fear that a woman would have just being alone with a stranger. And I was feeling all of the anxiety about sex that a woman who had only had one man inside her would feel. 

I wrestled with the issues of unfaithfulness and discovery. I was in touch with all of the legitimate emotions of a lonely disregarded woman who was about to have her first affair. And they had replaced Janey with a new persona, one who wanted this experience very badly, but was afraid of it nonetheless.

He opened the room and guided me in. I stood there with all of my fear and hesitancy written in my face and posture. He adjusted the light in the room. Then he turned and looked me over, as if he was examining something he had purchased in the store; but had not actually looked at closely until he had gotten it home. 

He seemed satisfied with what he saw. He walked up to me and looked deeply into my eyes. I was looking back at him communicating, "Please don't hurt me." 

He seemed to read that message because he asked me whether I wanted to go slow. I told him that I didn't even know where to begin. 

When I had sex with my husband it was always the same biweekly routine. I would turn out the lights in the bedroom and lie down in my nighty. He would emerge from the bathroom in his pajama bottoms and I would spread my legs for him. He would get between them and we would have sex. 

The sex itself was satisfying. There was no actual passion but it would normally last a reasonable length of time and I would sometimes even come for him. He would come loudly and then go into the bathroom to clean up. I would follow and then we would go to sleep. 

I knew that there were other ways of making love but that was the only way that I had ever experienced.

He put his arms around me, standing in the middle of the room, and asked to kiss me. I told him that he could, but I added apologetically that he would be the first other person I had kissed since before I was married. I was afraid he would be disappointed. 

We kissed and instead of kissing me directly he nibbled on my lips and moved to my ear and down my neck. That set off a fire in my belly that I recognized, because it was the same fluttering I felt when my husband entered me. I began to breath harder than normal. 

He kissed me this time and suddenly I felt a wave of desire sweep over me. I had never experienced a feeling that profound before. I opened myself to him like a wanton woman and we truly passionately kissed. I had never kissed anybody like that before. 

He looked me in the eye again and I looked back at him, communicating the depths of my arousal. 

Then he unzipped my dress. That act sent delicious shivers down my back all the way to my legs. I flushed and goose bumps appeared everywhere. 

He looked at me in my bra like he was valuing a piece of art. Then he unhooked my bra and suddenly my breasts were bare in front of another man. I was so overcome by such pure physical passion at the utter naughtiness of his gaze that all I could do was stare at him willing him to go further. 

He finished stripping my dress off and I was naked in front of him with my chest heaving with the raw passion I was feeling and getting wetter by the second. We embraced again and I felt the thrill of my naked breasts compressed against his chest and his penis on my belly caught between us. I had never felt like this before.

We kissed passionately. I was totally open to him on both ends now. So I broke the kiss and said to him simply, "Fuck me!" 

I don't know what had come over me. I had never used that word in public in my life and I had never EVER used it to actually ask a man to make love to me. But I wanted him to fuck me like I had never wanted anything in my life. 

He led me gently to the bed. I lay down with one knee up and waited nervously for him to get between my legs. Instead he gently stroked my breast. I thought my nipples were going to explode. 

I made a loud moan. I have never done that before either, but I was so absolutely and totally aroused that I thought I would die if he didn't quench the raging fire in my lower belly. 

Then he stroked his hand gently lower and dipped his finger into my vagina brushing my clitoris. 

As he did that I totally lost control over my own body. I felt my eyes instantly roll up into my head. My insides were overwhelmed by a series of contractions that felt like they were going to burst me. 

I was stunned by a feeling of blissful agony that I never imagined could exist, let alone be felt. It was an orgasm so spectacularly ferocious that I was bucking my hips against his hand entirely uncontrolled. 

Eventually the contractions died down to quivers and flutters in my stomach. But I was just a visitor. Having experienced real passion for the first time in my life I now gratefully surrendered my place to the rightful resident. 

Janey was back and she was ravenous. 

I had to have him inside me immediately, if not sooner than that. So I manhandled myself underneath him inserted him into me with some force and began to fuck him with an animal intensity that I don't remember ever generating before. 

My fire was driven by what I had just gone through; experiencing sex from the eyes of an inexperienced woman. I usually don't like it rough but I was so full of hunger I wanted him to take me as totally and violently as possible. 

He was literally bouncing me off the bed as he fucked me, driving deep inside me with each stroke. My tits were swinging everywhere and I was having a hard time seeing anything, as my head was rebounding off the mattress as he pounded me. 

I had my legs around his ass pulling him into me as tightly as I could and I was shrieking and clawing my need for him. I was wilder than I had ever been with him. It was like I had lost my mind. I guess he came in me. I really didn't know because the orgasm that hit me seconds before that blew me to smithereens. 

I was feeling contractions that were more like childbirth, not orgasm and they built to a point where I had to switch off the lights to protect myself. I can honestly say that I have never come that violently in my life. Then everything went black.

~ 

Paul

We fell asleep together with me spooning her now softly sleeping form. I wanted to leave before she awoke so I set the little alarm clock in my head to go off when the sun rose. That alarm has been reliably waking me since my army days. 

There was enough sun to leave her a note as I tiptoed out. I looked back at her lying on the bed. Her dark hair was spread out around her like a halo and her beautiful face was completely relaxed as she slept. 

Because I had put her there, I knew that she was naked under the covers. All I could see were the tops of her delicate but muscular shoulders and her arms over the top of the duvet. The hills that were her breasts were rising and falling with peaceful regularity. 

She had passed out as she often does when the sensations get the best of her and that then leads to slumber. I had moved her into a comfortable position and laid down spooning her so that she would go gently to sleep. 

Her sexy round butt was against me and sometimes that elicits the obvious response but tonight I just wanted to love her. 

This had been both a strange night and also an eye-opening one. I have never come close to taking her for granted. But I have been around all of that perfection for twelve years and sometimes you lose track of how exceptional a woman she is. 

I suppose it would be similar to living in the Taj Mahal and assuming that everybody's house looked like that. Although I don't think it is possible for anything to make me love her more, tonight reminded me what an extremely lucky man I am. 

And I made a vow that as we continue to journey through life I will not lose track of how simply beautiful my wife is and more importantly I would make a point of telling her that once a day whether she needed it or not.

~

Janey

I awoke by myself in a strange bed. Then I remembered that I had gone there with a strange man who I had "picked up" in the bar downstairs. 

In that bed I had experienced a height of passionate love that I never thought was possible to achieve. 

I was naked but all of my clothes from the night before had been carefully folded and laid on the chair. 

As I dressed in preparation to go back to my husband I saw a note on the dresser. 

It said, "You were a vision and a dream last night. I have never experienced such passion in my life. I want us to make love like that again as soon as you want me. I will never forget your beauty. Your husband will never know." 

I promised myself that I would make love to my mystery lover that night and for every other night until death do us part.



A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 02



The Battle of Berlin

I am glad you like these travel stories so here is one more that is part of the second book. It follows a stop in Stockholm which is notable for the sex between the two protagonists and not much else. This one and the one following has a lot of action (and the obligatory married sex) and it fills in a lot about all of the characters. As always, thank you for reading me. 

~ 

Paul 

We left out of Stockholm-Arlanda, on a Cessna Citation CJ. We were bound for Berlin Tegel. 

Along with the now closed Tempelhof Airport, Tegel was the main point of arrival for the Berlin airlift. 

It also has a history that actually predates flight since it was the home at the end of the 19th Century of the "Parseval" airships of the Prussian Airship Battalion. 

Because of its age the facilities themselves are not particularly convenient. However getting through customs was relatively easy because we were in a private jet. 

My people had arranged a car service to transport us to the Regent, which is ideally located on the Charlottenstrasse in the heart of Berlin. 

It is one of the best hotels in that city but its main attraction was that it was pet friendly. It was also a ten minute walk to the Tiergarten, which I knew Hilley would love. 

We had booked two Premier suites side by side. We had to do that because the Presidential suite was occupied for the duration of our visit. 

The Regent is located in one of the more accessible areas for people who want to soak up German culture and history. Unter Den Linden is two city blocks to the north and the Brandenburg gate is a 15 minute walk west. The Reichstag is a little further along on the Tiergarten Park and the legendary "Checkpoint Charlie" is fifteen minutes south. 

Berlin experienced some very dark moments; before, during and after World War Two. It was bombed extensively and it had an all-out house-to-house battle fought in it. It was divided into four parts for almost a half century and it was blockaded miles inside communist controlled East Germany. 

Finally and most strikingly it had a wall built through the middle of it that was designed to keep the residents of the East German part of the city from crossing to the west. 

When the Wall fell in 1989, that event marked the reunification of Germany. And the vital city that I now saw around me arose in an astonishingly short time from the ashes.

It was early winter, but the weather was brisk and sunny and so Janey and I and Hilley walked up to the Café Einstein on Unter Den Linden for a late afternoon snack. 

Janey was wearing a pleated dress and sweater combination that looked like pure wool and cashmere and a little leather coat and lamb's wool collar that had a stylish "bomber jacket" feel to it. 

That was a little ironic given how extensively the area we were walking through was bombed during World War II. 

Hilly had an expensive dark blue wool coat and matching knit beret combination, which she wore on top of another of her "school girl" dresses and tights. 

She looked exactly like what she was, a very intelligent and well-bred little child of privilege. I would think about that impression the following day.

The main attraction of the Einstein besides its excellent location is the art. There is a gallery attached to it that displays the work of local artists. 

We browsed the paintings and photographs on display and sat on the sidewalk drinking afternoon tea and watching the traffic headed toward the Brandenburg Gate, which was a little further along. 

The Regent itself has excellent restaurant and bar facilities and we wanted to include Ada in the evening meal, so we made the short trip back to the hotel to get her. 

Janey and Hilley needed to get dressed for dinner and I wanted to sit in the wood paneled splendor of the bar and sample the Marillenschnaps, which I planned on getting a lot more familiar with when we got to Vienna. 

It is basically apricot brandy but the Germans do something to it that gives it a very smooth and tart taste. It is also guaranteed to give me a good appetite for something that I had not had in a couple of days, which was sex with my wife.

My beautiful wife made her appearance in the entrance to the bar shortly thereafter. She was clearly looking for me and did not see me lurking in a nook next to one of the bar windows. 

I eyed her as if I was seeing her for the first time. I often do that. She has so many outstanding physical features it is hard to select the best one. But today she was standing there in the very high heels she favors with a short black dress on. 

The leg that was revealed from just above her knee to the tips of her stylish pumps was exceptional. 

It is hard not to notice Janey's tits. They are huge, firm and perfectly proportioned. But everybody notices those. The thing that is more subtle is her exceptional grace. 

That is a consequence of her years of dance training. The cat-like way she moves gives her bearing a sort of dignity that people sense rather than consciously understand. 

Right this second though she was looking more pissed-off than dignified. I ambled up on her blind side and said, "Boo!" 

She turned toward me with a look that said, "Is that your best shot?!" So I put my hand on one of her incredible hard buns to help her forward. That nearly got my arm broken.

~

Janey

The flight to Berlin was what I consider proper transportation. I was also very pleasantly surprised at the quality of the hotel. 

Like a lot of Americans my visions of Berlin tend to either be shaped by World War Two bombsite photos, or the Cold War spy-versus-spy world of Checkpoint Charlie and the Berlin Wall. 

So I was expecting cold and grim, black and white buildings with perhaps a touch of thick fog to add atmosphere. I couldn't be more wrong of course. 

Berlin is modern and vibrant. It goes without saying that much of that urban renewal came courtesy of the Eighth Air Force in the 1940s. 

But there are still a lot of buildings in Berlin that survived the bombing. 

Being creative seems to be a residency requirement in that City. So the mix of new and old, there, produces an affect that in subtle ways was more charming than Paris and London. 

Hilley was not picking up on any of that charm however, simply because unlike Paris or London there are no iconic monuments except the Fernsehturm. 

That tower, which has all of the appeal of a communist era war memorial, was built by the GDR back in the 1960s as a symbol of the City. At 1,200 feet it is one of the tallest freestanding structures in Europe and it is also no doubt one of the ugliest. 

The Brandenburg Gate has the requisite 19th Century grandeur but she had not seen that yet.

Hilley's attitude toward Berlin changed radically when we got to Café Einstein. They serve a Trinkeschokolade that is to die for. I had to cut her off after two of those insidiously delectable things or we were never going to get her to bed that night. 

We sat on the sidewalk in the pleasant early winter weather and drank our hot drinks and watched the world go by. 

Hilley is a lot more creative than I am; at least in art forms other than dance. And I thought I would never get her out of the gallery that was part of the building the Einstein is in. 

She was studying each painting like she wanted to duplicate it as soon as we got home.

We dined together in the hotel as a family. Ada was originally hired as a governess and nanny but her good humor, eagerness to please and absolute devotion to Hilley had quickly earned her the status of "big sister". 

She was a sweet, unassuming and innocent girl from a lower middle class family in Zurich. She is German in the sense that Zurich is a German Canton and she has a lot of the steadfast loyalty and love of family that is characteristic of Germans. 

She looks like a German fraulein, long blond hair which she does in thick braids, huge blue eyes in a round pink face with apple cheeks. And she is very shy. So those cheeks turn even pinker when she blushes; which is frequently. 

She has a sturdy round body that just screams "motherhood", not fat as much as designed to birth and raise a large number of children. 

Her breasts reinforce that childbearing image in that they are so big they look like they could easily feed quintuplets. 

Her generous mouth hints at fires burning under the surface. But she was proud of being a virgin at age 22. She has a boyfriend back home and she is saving herself for him, which seems incredibly naïve, but sweet, to the likes of me. 

I suppose I have the same attitude about my body where Paul is concerned. But I only discovered that after considerable experimentation. 

I was getting exceptionally horny watching us interact at dinner. The river that is my life force runs very deep and fast. The tributaries that feed it are my husband and my child and my profound feelings toward both of them. 

I express my feelings toward my husband by working hard every day to secure the special bond we have with each other. Of course part of that bond is the sex we share. 

Sex is a chicken or the egg conundrum. I have never been sure whether we have fantastic sex because we are two souls who are bonded together, or we were bonded by the sex. 

At any rate my love for Paul and my physical need for him are inseparable. 

I express my feelings toward Hilley by trying to be the best mother I can be. I study the art of motherhood and try to improve my techniques. I put her first in everything I do. I try to give her a role model. 

But I also want her to understand the importance of others and her role in respecting other people's personal boundaries and rights. So I am bit of a disciplinarian. 

It is sad to say, but my own mother considered me to be a huge burden. She communicated that to me in every way possible. 

If it had not been for my father I would have had no self-concept whatsoever. I was lucky, or perhaps tough enough, not to turn into a total slut in my teen years as a result of my father's love. And I do not want any of the experiences that I had while I was wrestling with who I was to happen to my daughter. 

I am aware that the clock is ticking for her and she will soon be just like me in more ways than her looks and dancing ability. So I reinforce the message of her personal value every chance I get.

~

Paul

The next morning was beautiful and sunny. We had breakfast at Einstein's and walked down to the Tiergarten. The Great Tiergarten is a huge park in central Berlin, like central park is in New York. The Berlin zoo is there hence the name, "Animal Garden". 

Unter Den Linden, which is a lot like Fifth Avenue in the Big Apple, enters that park at the Brandenburg Gate. 

Janey was dressed in a pair of skin tight jeans and her expensive lamb's wool bomber jacket. The jeans showed off her magnificent butt to its maximum advantage and men were literally turning to watch her twitch her way down the street. 

Hilly was in a pair of tailored kid jeans that must have set Janey back a couple of hundred dollars and a thick wooly fisherman's sweater. 

She had a bandana wrapped around her head holding her hair back, which made her look like a small girlish version of Cochise. 

Ada was wearing her usual sensible pant and shirt outfit but she had put on a light cardigan sweater over the combination. She was in particularly good spirits walking along with Hilley. 

The two of them were discussing their surroundings in fluent German. Ada seemed to be drilling Hilley on the wording of the signs. 

Zeus was ambling along with me with his usual sense of martial arrogance. All he needed was a kepi and a swagger stick and I would swear he was Gary Cooper, in Beau Geste. 

We walked through the gate and into the park. The park has a forested feel to it with very well groomed paths leading off into the "wilderness". 

Our little group took the first turn on our left and headed in among the trees. Germany was very heavily forested well into modern times. In fact, in many places it still is. 

As a result, Germans seem to have an atavistic need to be among trees. 

As we progressed further along the little trail and the trees closed around us we got less and less of a sense that there were 3.5 million people in the general vicinity. Instead it felt like we were alone in the Black Forest. 

Ada, who could probably pass for "Heidi" commented that it reminded her of the mountains around her home. All she needed to look authentic was a herd of goats. 

We came up to a little intersection in the paths and Hilly and Ada took a turn off to look at a huge flower bed that you could see in the distance and Janey and I just kept walking, holding each other's hand. Zeus accompanied Hilley of course. 

We told them that we would meet them back at that place in fifteen minutes. We had walked for most of that time, just gazing around and commenting on the uncanny impression of wilderness in the middle of the second largest city in Europe. 

Then we heard a SHOT!! 

A noise like that in a peaceful place like the Tiergarten was terrifying. We both turned and with the same thought we raced back down the path in the direction that the shot had come from when we heard a second one. 

I was kicked into a hyper frenzy of anxious running because I had a premonition of what was happening.

~

The kidnappers struck as Ada, Hilley and Zeus walked down the path toward the flower garden. There were six of them. They must have been hiding in the trees as we walked past. 

Hilley loves flowers and so she separated from the group to explore the garden along with her faithful guardians Ada and Zeus. 

As soon as they saw the kidnappers approach from the direction of the flower bed Hilley and Ada had begun to run back up the path toward the intersection. 

Their aim was to retreat up the path toward where we had walked, but that was part of the kidnappers plan and they had anticipated that move by stationing three of them there as well. 

What they had not expected was that Ada would stand and fight where the paths converge, which was the exact geographic point where their carefully planned abduction unraveled. 

Ada is a German woman, tall and extraordinarily strong. And she had all of the fighting instincts of a Valkyrie. Especially when she was protecting a child.

She grabbed the first attacker by his tactical vest, lifted him off the ground and threw him backward into the next one coming behind him. 

Then, while yelling to Hilley to run, she turned to face the others with fists and elbows flying. 

The fight at the intersection took several seconds as Ada was determined that nobody would pass and the attackers, being men, chose to try to wrestle her out of the way rather than simply go around her. No mere woman was going to prevent them from going down that path. 

The, six against one, odds temporarily worked in Ada's favor since only one man at a time could approach her. 

It was basically Thermopylae all over again and Ada's heroic stand was delaying the kidnappers from their real target. 

Finally one of the black clad attackers produced an epi-pen. The contents of the pen were probably meant for Hilley. There was a hiss and Ada slumped to the ground unconscious. 

But she had bought Zeus and Hilley the time they needed to retreat down the path towards the public road. 

They stopped at a little cement memorial tucked into a tight crescent shape grotto. It had a statue of the Virgin Mary on top of the base of the long "U". 

Hilley could see the black van with its doors open waiting for them on the street at the end of the path. So she chose to make their stand there. 

Our daughter has all of the heredity of her mother's British ancestors in her tiny body. Those are the same valiant bloodlines that formed the squares at Waterloo, the "thin red line" at Balaclava and who fought Hitler's panzers to a standstill on the causeways of Dunkirk. 

As a result, rather than panic, or curl up in a ball and cry as any child would in that situation, she had calmly and judiciously found a place that she and her dog could defend. 

The foliage and passageway formed by the walls made their position a sanctuary of peace and contemplation. It was also good ground for a final fight because it channeled any attackers into a confined space. 

La Legion could have engaged at the crossroads but he knew his duty was to Hilley. He placed himself in front of her at the open end of the "U". 

Hilley had grabbed a small tree branch as she ran and shaped it into a makeshift spear. She stood there behind her dog with her spear in her hand and the same steadfast look on her little-girl face that the Scottish pikemen must have had standing in their scheltrens at Bannockburn. 

Two of the kidnappers passed the grotto wrestling Ada's limp body down the path to the van. Four men entered the grotto. 

La Legion had not done anything to actively defend Hilley to this point. That didn't mean that he wasn't planning to do something. He was simply falling back on prepared positions buying time. 

Finally, he knew that he had reached the place that he would have to turn and stand. 

The first two attackers were laughing as they approached Zeus and Hilly. It must have looked comical to see a petite little girl ferociously brandishing a makeshift spear behind a large tousled looking dog. 

Even funnier, the dog seemed to be lying on the ground with his hindquarters in the air and his front paws out in front of him, like he wanted to play. 

The attacker on the right walked into something that had the destructive force of a full barrage of Legion artillery. 

Zeus pounced face high like a huge cat with his jaws wide open. One hundred and twenty pounds of canine ferocity and inward curving fangs ripped the man's face in a way that guaranteed that he would be lot less popular with the ladies in the future. 

The guy was actually fortunate that the Legion gunners were a bit high with their first salvo, because the real aiming point was his throat. 

There was a mist of blood and the attacker catapulted backward into the one who was coming up behind him. 

They both went down in a heap of tangled limbs. Both of them were temporarily out cold. 

With the artillery preparation out of the way, La Legion's infantry came out of their trenches with an all-out assault on the remaining two attackers. 

A Bouvier has the same amazing biting power as a Rottweiler but its neck is immensely stronger. 

Zeus easily snapped the bones in the first man's left forearm with his jaws. But then he gave a powerful shake which almost ripped the attacker's left arm off. 

Unfortunately the attacker had a 9 mm in his right hand, which he fired point blank at Zeus before shrieking in agony, turning and running. 

His arm hung down as if it had been torn completely out of his shoulder, which it probably had. 

The bullet he fired went into Zeus's hindquarters and the brave fellow whimpered and went down slowly on his side. 

The final attacker saw this. He made a grab for Hilley over the body of La Legion. 

Hilley let out a shrill war cry and calmly and very forcefully shoved her makeshift spear into his outstretched palm. 

Hilley might be only 60 pounds of determined mademoiselle. But she had her mother's uncanny strength. So the tip of her spear actually penetrated almost out the back of the attacker's hand. 

And then, while lying immobile on his side, what was left of La Legion's troopers executed a final heroic attack with the naked "Rosalie", the fearsome French bayonet. 

Zeus sank his already bloody fangs into the kidnapper's ankle and shook it, severing his Achilles tendon completely. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 02



The attacker screamed in agony and fired down at Zeus. The bullet grazed the top of his head. It did not enter his skull but it made a crease across the top, took a big nick out of one of his ears and knocked him out. 

Nevertheless, La Legion's final noble stand had done the job. Three of the attackers had injuries so severe that they were going to need extensive medical attention. 

All of them had now hastily and ignominiously departed the battlefield leaving the final attacker. 

The fourth was just coming back to consciousness after having been knocked out in La Legion's initial barrage. 

He was unharmed but he was by himself. 

He heard Hilley, whose fighting blood was inflamed by the sight of what they had done to her dog, shriek and then advance on him with her little spear, fully intending to poke it through his right eye. And he could also hear the frantic sounds of an oncoming rescue party just up the path. 

So he turned and ran in the direction that the other three had gone, Hilley yelling after him, "Come back here! I'm not done with you yet!!"

~

Paul

I arrived on the scene as the van doors were closing. Janey was a few steps behind me. 

Seeing the van roar off almost killed me. I was sure our daughter was in there. 

I heard her cry, "Daddy" turned and there she was, standing in a little grotto behind the body of her dog. 

She had a short spear clutched intrepidly in her hand. It had a lot of blood on its tip. 

The area around them looked like a battlefield, with blood everywhere. 

She dropped the spear, ran up the path and threw herself into my arms weeping. I held her tiny body to me thinking very dark thoughts indeed. 

I was sure she had been so traumatized by events that she would never recover. Instead she said through her sobs, "They killed Zeus!!" 

The bravery of my little daughter was awe inspiring. She was a 60 pound girl who had been threatened by large male kidnappers and witnessed an incredible amount of carnage. 

All she could think about was the health of her faithful dog!! 

I handed her to her mother, who was standing there with a look of indescribably fury on her face and went to check on Zeus. 

La Legion had suffered horrible casualties but it persevered and would never surrender. 

He had regained consciousness and was struggling back to his feet to make his final stand. Blood dripped down his head and into his eyes and his hindquarters were completely covered in it. 

La Legion was down to its last few rounds and its artillery was completely out of action. It was now ready for the supreme honor of dying to protect the person it had sworn its life to. 

It was going to be death worthy of an epic hero. 

The last remnant of La Legion's troops were gathering to launch a final forlorn hope when he recognized me through the blood. 

He relaxed his attack posture. 

I looked at him with anguish. 

He laughed and said gallantly, "It is but a scratch mon ami. How is the little mademoiselle?!" 

I said, "She's fine my dear friend" and watched the look of relief wash over him as he toppled back over on his side unconscious. 

The first call I made was to an air ambulance which landed in the clearing six minutes later. 

The medics were none too pleased when they found that they had made a helicopter run for a dog. 

Nevertheless, money can be very persuasive and I was not in a mood to take "no" for an answer. 

I had my people in California working on where he would be delivered as the helicopter was inbound to pick him up. 

They had already lined up a drop-off at the SMARTVET just up the Bismarkstrasse from the Tiergarten. 

A surgeon had been alerted and was standing by. I made it plain, and with no room for misunderstanding, that all medical measures taken to save the life of such a dauntless hero would receive an exceptional reward. 

As the helicopter lifted off I turned to Janey. The inconceivable rage on her face would have been frightening if I did not know that I had the same look. 

As we made our way back to the hotel carrying our crying daughter, Janey and I assessed the situation together; just as we have always done when faced with adversity,. 

I didn't need to guess what this was all about. We are very wealthy and we travel without a large security detail. Somebody somewhere had noticed that fact and planned to help themselves to some of that wealth by kidnapping our child. 

The fact that the attempt had occurred in a place that was ideal for such an act indicated to me that they had been watching us. 

The length of time that surveillance had taken place was not clear but what WAS obvious was that this was a premeditated crime, not a random event. 

When that plan had broken down the would-be kidnappers did the next best thing. They kidnapped our governess and quasi-daughter. 

We both knew that we could expect contact soon and probably the usual list of demands. So with my second call I had already phoned our security people. They were on a NetJets flight out of Como, due in in the next hour. 

That team was composed of people who I had served with and who I respected. 

When I was in my late teens and early twenties I was a crew chief and door gunner on the H-53 Pave Lows of the 160th Aviation Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division; commonly known as the "Night Stalkers." 

Besides hauling the occasional airborne rangers the Night Stalkers are the taxi service for the Army Special Operations Groups, Delta and Green Beret. 

So I had worked with soldiers who were the finest in the world. And five of the best-of-the-best worked for me now. 

They arrived within two hours, without fanfare, carrying nondescript bags. I was in the lobby to "greet" them. 

We didn't know who was watching so the act we chose to put on was, "rich guy and five of his sales employees". 

Our behavior reeked of "late afternoon business meeting". 

We talked for a while then one after the other the six of us drifted off in random directions. We met fifteen minutes later in the room next door to our suite, which was now the command center. 

My operators were competent and well paid professionals. They set about opening boxes and cases and assembling things with cool proficiency. 

There were five of them. Steve McAuliffe, my security team leader, was smart, experienced and strategically and tactically incisive. I had dropped him off in a number of places where I never expected to see him again. 

Then there was a sniper. Every Delta team has a sniper. Mine was nothing like the movie cliché of the southern hillbilly. He looked like a skinny CPA, with a receding hairline, grey suit and actual Clark Kent style glasses. 

It wasn't until you looked into those uncanny pale eyes and saw a stone cold killer looking back at you that you realized what he really was, a savage bird of prey. 

There were two "door kickers" who were highly trained and experienced combat entry specialists. Those two averaged 250 pounds of elite fighting muscle and they could probably take on a NFL team in a hand-to-hand situation and win. 

That kind of mentality needs the adrenaline rush like a junkie needs drugs. They particularly liked zero knowledge entry situations, which meant they were either very brave or very crazy. 

Finally there was a hacker. He was a very short, muscular African-American guy, who was not your usual nerd. He could own your computer system with one hand while doing one armed pushups with the other. I had actually seen him do that. And he was also an expert in combat entry. 

My guys finished setting up and we all got down to a council of war. Janey insisted on being part of that council and all of us could see from the look of pissed-off determination in her eyes that she was not going to stand for any argument. 

She had put Hilley to bed in our suite after calling a person who we consider a family friend. 

Our friend just happens to also be one of the leading authorities on child behavior, with PhDs in both education and also psychology. 

More important she is a kind and generous person. Hilley thinks of her as her grandmother. 

My parents are dead and Janey's mother stopped speaking to her when Janey's father left his money to Janey, rather than her. So Hilda has been the only older woman who Hilley has ever known. 

She calls her "Nonny". Nonny has been at every Christmas and birthday since Hilley was two and our little daughter loves her. 

We wanted Hilley to wake up to her face. So Nonny was inbound on the Cessna Citation that we had hired to get her from her home in Geneva. 

She had literally walked out of a high level academic conference when she got the word about what had happened and gone directly to the airport. We expected her within the hour.

We knew they would contact us sooner or later. It took much longer than we had imagined, almost four full hours. 

Because we didn't know what method they were going to use we were monitoring every communication channel that we could think of, cell phones, e-mail, even Skype. 

Our hacker had all of the electronic channels filtered into a single monitor display. And one of the door kickers was stationed in the lobby in case they went the old fashioned ransom note approach. 

As it turned out they chose e-mail. There was a message sitting in the inbox of my public account. This is an account that we publish on my personal website as a means of encouraging people to talk to me. 

There was a simple note. It said "10,000,000 Euros... Keine Polizie..." 

There was a link embedded at the bottom of the message. I clicked on the link. It took a while to load. We all stood there wondering what we were going to see. Then it opened to a live feed. 

~

Ada was in the middle of the picture. She was out cold, lying drugged on the bed. I watched as a skinny little man went around the room closing the blinds. He then turned and looked at her. 

She had her entire body lying on the bed. Her chubby legs were hanging off the edge. He went to where she was sleeping and picked up one arm and dropped it. There was no reaction. Then he slapped her. 

She rolled her head to one side and opened her eyes momentarily. They were glazed and lifeless. Then they closed. 

The man looked significantly at the camera. Then he unbuttoned her pants, lifted her legs and began to work them down by pulling on the waistband on both sides of her hips. She didn't move or react. 

The pants came off leaving her in her panties. The man then sat her up. She was not able to hold herself erect and her head hung forward with her face hidden by her long blond hair. 

He eased her sweater and shirt off by pulling the neck up over her head and then off over her arms. 

He then dropped her back on the bed laying there 

in her simple bra and pants. Her vulnerable white body was on abject display. She was not fat as much as she was very round and sturdy. 

She was sleeping, her huge tits rising and falling regularly. They were so big that they looked like she had two halves of a watermelon lying on her chest. 

The man then carefully eased his own pants down and left them puddled on the floor. He was not wearing underwear. He stripped his own t-shirt off and stood there skinny and naked for a second, sporting a highly aroused cock that looked like it was a foot long. It was sticking out in front of him like a bowsprit. 

He then turned back to Ada. He pulled her panties over her hips by their waistband and along her legs to lie between her feet on the floor. He stopped and savored the sight of Ada's full peasant bush and virgin pussy. 

She remained unmoving, breathing slowly and rhythmically, deep asleep. Finally, he reached between her giant tits and unsnapped the front clasp of her utilitarian bra. 

Ada was now lying completely naked and helpless on her back on the bed. Two huge, firm white tits were revealed, which only slightly puddled out over her chest and arms. The aureoles were big, perhaps six inches in circumference and pink. 

At that point the nipples in the middle of those circles were two small bumps. But as the outside air began to revive them they grew. 

The skinny man began to tweak each of them. Soon they were prominent and red and the size of the tip of your finger. 

Ada's breathing seemed to pick up at the stimulation as her huge tits rose and fell more rapidly. 

Her boob flesh took up most of the space on her chest as those massive jugs folded over on top of her ribs. 

The man sat on the bed next to her and took one massive tit in both of his hands. The tip of the breast and the nipple plumped up above where he had his hands closed around it. 

He took one of his thumbs and rubbed it back and forth across the nipple. It doubled in size and turned a bright angry red. 

He began sucking and biting the nipple. Ada made the first sound I had heard her make. It was a faint groan. 

The man played with both of her breasts in the same fashion. This went on for a little while. 

During that time Ada's helpless pale body got pinker and pinker and a reddish flush began to appear on her neck and upper chest. 

She made several small moans. I thought to myself, "Is he turning her on?" 

Then the man dropped her boobs and went to kneel between her naked spread legs. He raised them and held them apart so that her pussy was completely exposed to him. 

He then began to lick up and down her slit stopping on each pass to run his tongue over her clit. 

As he did so Ada's face, which to this point had been completely blank, began to change. She was still lying limply on the bed but she started to get that furrow in her brow that is an indicator of sexual arousal in women and her lips opened and her breathing immediately picked up. 

Her giant jugs were now rising and falling very rapidly. 

The man dropped her legs and looked at her lolling there. She was completely naked and totally defenseless, lying mostly on the bed with her legs open in that classic "froggy" position that female hip structure dictates when a woman's legs are spread like that. 

The man stretched himself over Ada and lay down on top of her, without actually inserting himself. 

Instead he left his cock to rub back and forth against her pussy with the tip in the space between her ass cheeks. 

Returning her to me without her virginity intact would damage the goods and he knew that. He began to slowly hump her. 

Her unconscious face took on a look of increasing arousal and the man's cock was clearly getting very slick with her juices. He picked up his pace and Ada began to moan softly again. 

He held his upper body off her as he humped her, and her giant tits were bouncing on her chest. He was watching them bobble and jiggle. 

She was moving her head from side to side as if fighting off a bad dream. His skinny ass was thrusting at her faster and faster and she was moaning regularly and loudly now, a cocktail of pleasure and pain written on her face. 

As her moans got louder and more urgent, the man suddenly jumped up and shot a load of sperm on her stomach and chest while looking smugly into the camera. 

He then moved out of the camera's view and you could hear a door close and lock. Ada lay there totally naked and exposed. 

Her moans became softer and softer. Then she succumbed back into her drugged sleep. All was quiet again. They had made their point loud and clear. 

~

Paul

I shut off the picture while keeping the link open. Janey, who had suddenly appeared beside me, began to cry wildly. 

At this point all we knew was that there was a live feed coming from somewhere and the link was still open. 

Our hacker did a little tapping. Then he began to laugh. Nobody in the room was in a mood for nerd humor. 

The hacker said, "It's a regular IP. Those dudes didn't even bother to anonomize it." His tone of voice said that he didn't like amateurs. 

The team leader said, "Where is it coming from". The hacker told him Lichtenberg over in the old East German section; a lot of bad neighborhoods over there. 

The hacker did a little more tapping and the factory building that the feed was originating from came into view. I was wondering what law enforcement did before Google Maps. 

I knew we should turn this over to the police but I wanted a piece of those motherfuckers with every fiber of my body. 

For obvious reasons the current situation only included us at this point. And the bad guys had told us to not involve the cops. So my little voice said, "Maybe we can do this on our own terms." 

There was no way that the kidnappers could know that I had five of the best Special Forces operators in the world sitting in the room with me, all of whom possessed the talents that this situation demanded. 

I wanted some serious payback for what I had just seen. So, I just nodded to Steve, who was watching me intently. 

He reacted like an eager hunting dog that had just been told to "fetch". And we began the serious planning for what would happen next.

~

Janey

The day that had started so cheerily had turned into the darkest nightmare imaginable. 

You don't think about the target that immense wealth paints on you, until reality intrudes. We had a wonderful family breakfast and the morning was bright and sunny so we took a walk in the woods of the Tiergarten, just to commune with nature. 

I am the nature lover, Paul a lot less so. He says that he got quite enough of nature during his childhood in northern Minnesota. But even he seemed to enjoy the sense of being lost in a primeval forest while you could still hear traffic noises out on the Strasse Des 17 Juni. 

We were walking up a very well groomed path among all of the trees. Everything in Germany seems well groomed. Then Hilley asked to go off on a side path to see a bed of bright fall flowers that was perhaps 100 yards off to the right. 

I told her she could go but that we needed to meet back at this spot in 15 minutes. She frisked off in the direction of the flowers, like the happy little girl she is, with Ada and Zeus plodding along dutifully behind. 

Holding hands, Paul and I took the continuation of the path to inspect a large clearing approximately 75 yards in front of us. The sun was bright and we had not gone more than a few yards when Paul dragged me to him and kissed me. 

I checked to make sure that everybody was out of sight and then I put my hand behind his head and kissed him back with a passion that was designed to let him know how happy and secure I felt. That feeling wouldn't last long. 

It had been no more than ten minutes when we heard a shot behind us, followed a few seconds or so later by another. 

With no hesitation whatsoever Paul was on the dead run back down the path. I followed as fast as my shorter legs could take me. I couldn't imagine what had happened. But it had come from Hilley and Ada's direction and that kicked me into a hyper-frenzy. 

I could see action going on up the path. Paul was quite a distance in front of me. I could see him stop, look to his right and then run into a little grotto. He came out carrying Hilly with a look of absolute rage on his face. 

I still didn't know what had happened. But I was weak with relief at seeing her. She was crying hard and she almost never does that. 

Paul handed her to me and went further into the grotto. Zeus was standing there with gore all over him. 

Zeus looked like he was about to attack Paul as he approached but then the two of them talked and Zeus just toppled over on his side. Paul produced a cell phone and made a quick call. You could see that he was instructing somebody in no uncertain terms. 

Then he came out carrying his dog with tears running down his cheeks. I had seen him cry exactly once before in our entire married history so I knew this was bad. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 02



He walked wordlessly up the path to the clearing we had originally come from. 

Less than two minutes later a helicopter landed in the clearing and two medic types jumped out. There was a short period of argument and gesturing then they loaded Zeus into the helicopter and it whisked back off over the treetops. 

I was holding Hilley. All I could get out of her was that she and Ada had been attacked by a bunch of men and that Ada and Zeus had saved her. But they had taken Ada. 

The horror was palpable to me. 

I knew I had to be strong for our daughter's sake but I wanted to break down right there. Paul looked grimmer than I have ever seen him and the murderous, cold blooded anger in his eyes was frightening. 

On the way back he filled me in based on what he knew. We tried to keep the discussion in code since I was still carrying our daughter. However, I noticed almost right away that she was asleep on my shoulder. 

I understood. Unconsciousness is how I handle overwhelming stress too. 

When we got to the Hotel I went straight to the room and put Hilley to bed. Then I called Hilda. We had originally gotten to know Hilda when we started testing Hilly to evaluate her intelligence. 

Hilda is one of the leading academic women in Europe when it comes to child development. But she is also a warm, loving, strong and nurturing woman. In short she was the exact opposite of my mother. 

Although Paul is the man in my life, young women like me still need an older woman's wisdom and guidance. I got all of that and more from Hilda. 

Hilda was a wonderful dumpling of a German-Italian woman in her late 60s. Her husband, who was twenty years older than she, had died several years ago and she lived alone in their big house overlooking Lake Geneva. 

She never had kids. She said that her work was her kids. Hilley, Paul and I clearly substitute for her family. Hilda loves all of us that way, but especially Hilley. And no matter where she is in the world she makes it a point to be Hilley's "Grandmother" at every birthday and Christmas. 

Hilley of course adores her with the deep and unconditional love of a child. 

I was beyond overcome with grief and fear. I needed Hilda's motherly advice and comfort so I called her as soon as I had put Hilley to bed. 

Hilda answered with a whispered, "Hello". 

I said, "Hilda, this is Janey. Something horrible has happened. Can we talk?" 

She said "wait" and I heard the sound of a large number of people conversing in the background as she carried her phone someplace else. There was the sound of a door closing and then Hilda said with concern in her voice, "What has happened, my daughter?" 

I love having her call me that and she knows it calms me down. Crying in the phone I said, "Somebody tried to kidnap Hilley here in Berlin and I don't know what to do!!" 

Hilda said, "How fast can you get me to where you are?" 

I said, "I can have a jet waiting for you whenever you can make it to the airport." 

She said, "I am leaving for Geneve-Cointrin immediately. Please have it ready in twenty minutes!" 

I was overwhelmed with gratitude. What I didn't know was that she had simply just walked out of a large meeting of the United Nations Children's Fund, which she was chairing. When I found THAT out I was humbled by her love and compassion for us. 

But there was still the situation with Ada. My thoughts went from fear to white hot rage. I went next door and found Paul sitting with five of the solidest, most capable and intimidating looking men I had ever met. He introduced them as our security team. I knew we had one but I had never met them. 

They had an air of calm almost tangible competence. They had flown in from Como to handle Ada's kidnapping. 

I had no idea whatsoever that Paul had ever had any association with U.S. black operations soldiers. But the gentlemen who made up our security team were clearly comrades of his from his past life and they were some kind of ex-special forces. 

I have known that he had life or death situations in the military but he keeps that part of his life locked in a dark and secret place. I heard some snippets of his past life when he visited a friend of his but he made it plain he was only confessing the things that applied to me. These men were clearly another part of his life that was still a total blank.

We talked it over as a group. Paul involved me in that discussion like I was one of the men and frankly none of them could match my current level of pitiless rage so in effect I WAS one of them. 

We were waiting for a contact from the kidnappers. One of the operators was a computer specialist and he had set up all sorts of components and monitors. 

We waited for over three and a half hours for somebody to contact us. In that time Hilda appeared. The flight from Geneva to Berlin is a couple of hours and she had moved heaven and earth to be there when Hilley woke up.

We both went in to see Hilley. Looking at her innocence, lying with her bear in the darkened room, I was overcome by unexplainable grief. 

Hilda held me to her ample chest and let me cry myself out. She said, "I understand that an event like this can raise ugly awareness in everybody, especially a child. But if we handle this properly we can ensure that this occurrence only makes her stronger." 

I gave Hilda a look that told her that I was in no mood to channel Nietzsche. 

But Hilda had a plan. "We have to work very hard from the moment she awakens to assure her that she is safe and loved. Then we need to help her understand that she has to face bad things in life in order to conquer them. 

"She is an intelligent child and she will see the logic". 

That was close to the very same thing that my dad had taught me, so I stopped sniveling. I also recalled that Paul had told me that Hilley, with her brave little spear, had been actively involved in defending herself. 

I thought to myself, "She's my daughter! She will endure!" 

I looked at Hilda. She was standing there like the perfect example of mature womanhood that she was. I made the promise to try to someday be as strong and decent as she was. 

In the meantime she had restored my fighting spirit and there was still one member of the family to rescue from those monsters. 

So I asked her to please sit with Hilley and start the process of helping her use this to make her stronger. 

I walked in as the men were watching a porn movie. Or at least that is what it looked like. 

There was a naked woman on one of the monitors who was being violated by a repulsively skinny man. Then it came into perspective. That was Ada!! 

I watched the conclusion of the whole revolting scene. Then I noticed that rather than it being a movie, what we were watching was taking place in real-time.

What had happened was an abstract event for every man in the room but it was a personal violation for a woman. The shame and horror of what I had just seen was too overwhelming. I thought, "Oh poor sweet Ada! She was saving herself for her future husband!" 

Paul looked grim and said, "No, they are just playing with her to make a point to us. They know better than to damage the goods." 

Then the African American gentleman started to laugh. We all looked at him like he had loudly farted in church. 

He continued to laugh. He said that the kidnappers had left an open connection that he could easily trace. He said that he hated amateurs but he was glad that these guys were so stupid. 

The men in the room began to do the "saddle up" thing that men have done since time immemorial, when they are going off to do battle. They were talking among themselves, collecting things and locking things down in deft competent moves. 

Then I noticed that Paul was one of them!! 

I grabbed him and dragged him out into the hall. 

I said, "What are you doing?" 

He said, "We are going to get Ada of course". 

I said, "Excuse me buster! You aren't going anywhere!!" 

He said, "She is in this situation because of me and I owe it to her." 

I said in a fierce whisper, "You owe it to us not to get yourself killed! I am not letting you do this!" Then I put my arms around his waist and looked at him with fierce determination. 

He looked torn then he said, "All right, I will let them handle it but I want to see what is happening. LaShawn, can you rig up a live feed so I can watch?" 

The African American operator said, "Shoot man, I can put you there five different ways".

~

An hour and a half later the team blew the door of the abandoned factory. It was a shaped charge that made very little noise, just a loud "whummmph!!" that could have easily been mistaken for something large being dropped. 

Janey and I watched all of this in our command center. The 55 inch screen displayed camera feeds from the helmets of the operators. Four of them made a "combat entry". 

The essence of a good combat entry is speed and overwhelming force. There were eight bad guys in the building and our operators knew exactly where they were because they had closely studied their movements through the walls using infrared. 

I had made sure that they had all of the necessary remote sensing technology as part of their standard operational gear. So the extraction was choreographed to the step. 

The sniper covered the entry from a roof across the street. It is never a good idea to kill somebody's citizen in a foreign country so that would be an absolute last resort. 

But the M40 that my guy was using had a GemTech silencer that guaranteed that any resulting deaths would be no louder than a heart attack. It was night by that point and in his black ghillie suit he could not be distinguishable as a person, even up close. 

The eight tangos were in several rooms. But Zeus had ensured that three of the hostiles were lying together in agony in bunks in one room, which left five mobile. 

Two were in the room guarding the door with Tec-9s. The first inkling that they had that something was about to happen was when the hacker killed the lights in the front of the building, leaving that area pitch black. 

He couldn't kill power everywhere because we still didn't know where Ada was. 

The force of the shaped charge and the flash-bang that followed stunned the two guys inside. They were quickly tasered and the hacker stayed behind to secure them with plasticuffs. 

The third rushed in from the room behind the entrance and ran right into my guys. 

Since it was pitch black and my guys were wearing head to toe light absorbing black tactical suits that showed nothing but their eyes and mouth there was no way he could see them. 

My people were wearing the latest in night vision goggles so they could see just fine. One of the door kickers disabled the third kidnapper with a hand thrust to the solar plexus and then shoved him to the hacker who bound him with the rest. 

That left two who were in the much larger area of the factory floor. As the team entered that part of the building one of the kidnappers was foolish enough to grab a gun. 

McAuliffe shot him neatly in the elbow of the arm holding the weapon. 

The single round from the 10 inch barrel of the silenced CQBR shattered his elbow and then literally disintegrated leaving no evidence of how that individual had lost his arm. 

Steve applied a battlefield tourniquet and pressure bandage. Then he plasticuffed the man's feet to keep him immobile. 

The final hostile was the skinny guy. He was apparently the "brains" of his whole pathetic operation. 

He slowly raised his hands in surrender. One of the door kickers grabbed him from behind and held him while Steve screamed in the kidnapper's face, "WHERE IS SHE!!? WHERE IS SHE!!? WHERE IS SHE!!??" 

The aim of the tactic being to get what the interrogator wants through sheer, overwhelming aggression. 

The skinny guy quaveringly pointed in the direction of what might have been a manager's office at one time. There was a light under that door. 

Steve and one of the door kickers ran to the door, threw it open and there was Ada lying on a makeshift bed, just as she had been when the leader last saw her. A camera was trained on her helpless naked body and she was unconscious. 

The two men quickly but gently placed her in the folding Medevac 4 combat stretcher that the door kicker was carrying on his back. A thermal blanket that they had applied before securing the straps covered her nakedness. 

Then the door kicker placed his arms under the middle of the stretcher, picked it up like a forklift and headed for the van, which my men had driven up in a mere seven minutes earlier. 

While 250 pounds of well trained and very elite muscle was placing Ada tenderly in the van, the rest of the team was going through the extraction procedures, securing the three who Zeus had badly wounded to their bunks with plasticuffs. 

It was almost too easy, but these guys were truly amateurs, probably local criminals who had gotten the idea the day before. Seven of them were left lying there bound and gagged. 

At my request they had shot up the skinny guy with enough high grade heroin to give him a serious addiction when he got back to consciousness. 

I didn't allow Janey to see that part of the operation. She claims she is tough but she is too much of a humanitarian. I have never ever pretended to be a nice person and somebody had to pay for the harm that they had done my loved ones. 

The team leader called the Berlin Polizie and in perfect German dropped an anonymous tip about a drug transaction. 

The pills and cocaine that the team had left lying around were sure to be enough to guarantee a long time in a German prison. 

I was hoping that the skinny guy would have an opportunity to experience the same sort of sexual violation that he had forced on Ada during his stay, FREQUENTLY. 

~     

Janey

We watched the operation take place sitting together in the luxury of the suite. I held his hand as he intently watched the screen of the 55 inch monitor. 

I could tell that part of him wanted to be there. It is very hard for a capable man to sit and watch other people doing something he feels he should be doing himself. But I could not bear the thought of losing him and we paid these men to perform these sorts of impossible tasks. 

Plus they were highly trained and conditioned for the task. Paul wasn't and he knew it. 

We had walked the operation through to the second. All of the men agreed that if it happened in less than ten minutes it would probably not attract any attention. 

We were aware that what we were about to do would be considered just as illegal as the kidnapping by the German authorities. 

The actual operation took nine minutes almost to the second. In that time Paul's people disabled five very disreputable looking men and rescued our beloved Ada. One of the kidnappers sustained a serious gunshot injury. 

I was astonished and a bit disturbed to discover how pleased I felt from seeing that injury. 

Paul told me to leave the room in the last two minutes. I left willingly. I knew that he was shielding me from something far worse. 

I am aware that Paul has a side of his personality that only appears when the people he loves are harmed. He has told me that several times. And I knew that that disgusting skinny man was about to pay some sort of ultimate price as a result. 

There is really no more decent and loving person than Paul. But he has had a different life than mine. That experience has shaped his morality and the rules he plays by are more Old Testament than mine. That was what I recognized was taking place here. 

I was astonished to discover how satisfying that thought was. 

I went into the next room. Hilley was awake and talking very seriously with Hilda. She was recounting what had happened in the most controlled and adult terms. I was astounded by the lack of anguish in her voice. 

Having just seen the exact same behavior from her father in the room next door I was beginning to wonder just how much of his totally pragmatic personality she really has. 

It was a gratifying thought that she might be less emotional than I am, since over-emotion has been a handicap my whole life.

Hilda was totally focused on Hilley as she spoke. She was listening intently and not giving any kind of reinforcing comments that would influence Hilley's narrative. I knew that that was a psychologist's technique but the way Hilda was behaving it was the grandmother sitting there, not the master of child behavior. 

Hilley finished with, "And then Zeus saved me from the last man while he was lying there hurt. He's alright isn't he?" 

While Paul was engineering the retrieval of the lost member of our family I was in constant touch with the veterinary clinic where Zeus had been medevac'd. 

I knew that Zeus had survived the operation to remove the bullet from his hindquarters, but that he would be more-or-less crippled as a result. 

I walked to Hilley's bed and smoothed her hair and I said, "Zeus will be fine, but he is hurt right now and you will have to take care of him until he gets better." 

The determined look that came into Hilley's little face reminded me that there was also a lot of me in there too and she said, "Can I go be with him right now to help?" 

My eyes misted as I looked at Hilda. She said, "Zeus has to stay at the doctors for a couple of days just so he can rest up but when we go get him he will need you to take special care of him." 

Hilley gave her a look like Florence Nightingale must have had on her face when she was told that she needed to take care of the casualties from the Crimean War. There was no trauma, just determination, compassion, dedication. And in that moment I knew that my sweet angel was far stronger than either her father or me.

~

Paul

My guys took Ada directly to the hotel. I had arranged for her to come up to our suite quietly via the freight elevator, rather than have her suffer the indignity of being dragged through the lobby on a stretcher. 

I had paid the hotel staff to ignore anything they saw. The staff at five star hotels understands discretion. I had a German MD specialist in both trauma and drugged assault waiting in a third suite which we now considered her temporary hospital room. 

She was beginning to come around and since she was a hero in every respect I wanted her to be given the best of care. 

We were being especially furtive because we had just created a lot of havoc out there in one part of the City. And although I was certain that it was a clean mission I wanted to stay as far under the radar of the German authorities as possible. 

My security team was already on its way back to Italy, having sanitized everything that they had touched. They were going to be a lot richer as soon as they looked in their bank accounts. 

The clinic was told that the dog had been accidentally hit by a stray bullet from an unknown assailant while we walked in the Tiergarten. 

We suggested that we bore no hard feelings, although we were disappointed to discover that something like that could occur in a city like Berlin. Newark or Detroit we could understand but Berlin was supposed to be civilized. 

The people at the clinic were so busy apologizing that they lost track of the real point, which was that a gun had been fired in downtown Berlin. 

That was our plan of course. The substantial incentive I provided them to not report the shooting of a mere animal had appeared to allay any concerns that they had about police involvement. 

The MD treating Ada was told that she was the victim of a date rape and that we were just being solicitous because she was so important to us. The fact that the statement was true only made that story all the easier to sell.





A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 02



Ada came fully awake lying in a bed with drips in both of her arms. One was saline to get her fully hydrated after almost 24 hours of forced unconsciousness. The other was a mild analgesic. 

Janey and I and the doctor were standing at her bedside smiling at her with love in our eyes and relief in our heart. 

She had almost no after-effects from the drugging, but she was understandably confused about where she was. Her last memories were walking toward the flower bed in the Tiergarten. 

We explained that she had been drugged while she was defending Hilley from an attempted kidnap. And that the kidnap failed as a result of her actions. We told her that she was a hero. 

She glowed absolutely pink to the roots of her hair and looked embarrassed. The doctor told her that she should sleep, while removing the drip catheters from her arms. He gave her a mild sedative to help her do that and then left the room. He would also be a much richer man by the end of the day. 

Janey lovingly tucked a blanket around Ada and we pulled the curtains and left. She was already asleep in her bed. 

Having gotten the heavy lifting out of the way I immediately went to Hilley's room. She was playing some kind of word association game with Hilda, while laughing delightedly. My inner voice said with amusement, "Well, that's behind her." 

She clearly had the same strong minded courage as her mother. 

Before Hilley was born, Janey had successfully fought off five men who had tried to rape her in an alley on the island of Mykonos. It would be a traumatic event for any woman. But afterward, Janey's strong and sensible mind had wrestled that experience into a box and buried it out of sight. My little voice chuckled again and said "Like mother, like daughter!" 

~

Janey

The pieces of the shattered puzzle were beginning to come together, as they always do when Paul sets his mind to something. 

His five highly competent men brought Ada up to the hotel room. They then packed and left in a matter of twenty minutes. They were out of German airspace before another hour, leaving no fingerprints whatsoever. 

The personal doctor, who Paul's people had secured to treat our Ada, examined her in every logical way including her status as a virgin. His judgment was that she was unharmed, including the thing that she held most dear. 

She came around as the doctor was just completing his examination. She looked extremely puzzled, as I would have if my last memories were walking in the park and then finding myself in a bed with us standing there while a total stranger poked and prodded me. 

We told her that she had saved Hilley from kidnappers but that she had been drugged in the process. We did not tell her anything else and we never intend to. We told her that she was a hero and she lit up with embarrassment. It was sweet. 

The doctor detached her from all of the medical gear and we left her sleeping. 

We went down to Hilley's room and found that she had completely moved on from the event. It was not that she was that superficial. It was simply as Hilda predicted. We had established that she was safe and loved and she was brave and strong minded enough to understand that the events of the morning were now in the past, and she had decided to keep them there. 

She would learn from the experience, but it would not dominate her. I glowed with pride. 

We asked Hilda what she wanted to do now that the crisis was past. She said that she wanted to stay with Hilley. 

We arranged for her to move into the now vacant command center which had magically returned to its status as a luxury suite in a five star hotel. 

We pay extra for those kinds of magic tricks. Like the good grandmother she was, Hilda would be in the bed next to Hilley when she woke up tomorrow morning.

Then Paul and I sat down for the serious discussion that I knew we were going to have to have. I recognized that Paul would not let this deter him from his larger goals. But there was no way that I was going to allow Hilley or Ada to continue with us since there was no guarantee that this kind of attempt would not be made again. 

We did not want to send a message to Hilley that when things got tough she should run away. And I was afraid that Ada might wonder what had really happened to her if we made a big deal about today's events. So we needed to find a plausible explanation for returning home. 

We talked back and forth and Zeus was the factor that made up our mind. We called the vet center, which was open because we had paid to give Zeus full 24 hour trauma care. We talked with the veterinarian who was on duty. 

He told us that Zeus would eventually be able to walk. But the bullet had shattered one of his leg bones. So he would have to have constant care for the next several months if we did not want to put him down, which was what he suggested we should do. 

The idea of having Zeus put down as a reward for his heroic defense of our daughter had about as much currency with us as suggesting that every wounded winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor ought to be euthanized. 

So Paul asked the vet when he could be moved. The vet said that he could be transported somewhere else the day after tomorrow, if we were willing to pay for ambulance service for a dog. Our intention to give Zeus a hero's treatment was a moot point. But the timing of that also worked out very well for us.     

~

Paul

Janey and I make every important decision in our lives together. So once we had ascertained that Ada was unaware of what had happened to her and that our valiant daughter had moved on in her own mind, we sat in our room discussing the future. 

Unfortunately I was locked into a mission that I could not simply walk away from. On the other hand, I also had other people to consider at this point and so a decision had to me made. 

I was convinced that we were exposing Hilley and indirectly Janey, Hilda and Ada to danger without some kind of formal security. And I would be damned if I was going to move around protected by body guards. 

I suppose that is a pig-headed attitude on my part but I have never been very smart where my own safety is concerned. And the majority of my personality, which is STILL a Duluth wharf rat, simply can't visualize any situation where I would be so important that I would have to be surrounded by a bunch of men in black. 

I am used to making my own quiet way through life and I consider myself to be a very brutal and dangerous guy when provoked. Therefore the thought of having visible protection holding my hand in public was personally embarrassing. 

Nonetheless there was no way I would gamble with my daughter's well-being and the only other person equally as precious is my wife, so they had to be secure. 

The answer was obvious. I would have to finish the project on my own and Janey would have to go back home where my guys could protect her. 

She did not argue with me. Given the choice between me and Hilley she would probably have chosen our daughter anyhow. In fact, she looked like she was relieved at my making the decision for both of us. 

She loves me and she is a wonderful friend and companion but there is no way anybody would EVER ask a mother to continue blithely along ignoring what had just happened. And Janey is as fiercely passionate about her child as she is about me. 

So we made the simple agreement that I would proceed along the course we had set and she might join me eventually, only if she was absolutely certain that Hilley was totally all right.  

But we still had to figure out some way to make it appear to both Ada and Hilley that the events of the past day were not important enough to cause us to abort our original plans. I wanted both of them to be blissfully ignorant of how close they had come to disaster. 

Fortunately, the chief architect of their salvation needed their care. We had gotten an update on Zeus's status and learned that my old legionary buddy was going to carry a mark of his heroism for the rest of his soon to be over-pampered life. 

The vet actually suggested that I put him down, since his leg wound was serious, which was laughable. But of course the vet didn't know that Zeus was actually a member in good standing of La Legion Etrangere and the La Legion never abandons its wounded. So the plan came to fruition. 

We would do our business as we had planned the next day. Then we would spend a quiet evening in the Hotel, eating and sleeping like nothing had happened. 

In that time, we were going to tell Hilley that Zeus was hurt and that we needed her to take care of him. Consequently, she and Ada and Janey would have to accompany him back to our place in Como where he could rest and recover. 

I knew that I would have to tell Ada to make sure that Hilley did not attempt to sleep at the foot of Zeus's bed as he had with hers. 

Then Janey told Ada that she wanted her to help her make certain that Hilley kept her normal routine around Como. 

That accomplished two things. It helped ensure that Hilley would just merge back into her old life without trauma. But more importantly it ensured that Ada would be thinking about other issues than what might have happened in the almost full day that she couldn't remember. 

In essence it was a classic win-win. Both Hilley and Ada seemed delighted at the prospect of returning home. Ada obviously missed her future husband. And it was clear that Hilley was already planning an exercise in canine patient care that was going to make the most advanced life-support settings in the best hospitals in the world look amateurish by comparison.

I was more upset than I have been in a long time at the prospect of leaving Janey, but there was no getting around the situation. 

Janey is a mother and mothers have to be with their children. Both of us knew that and I only loved and respected her more for the fact that she never really considered any other option. 

I was a little concerned that the following day would be uncomfortable as we marked time to go. But we met with the German representatives, disposed of our business, ate and went to bed with not a single hitch. 

Janey and I had not made love since before the attempted kidnapping, which was only three days previous. But it seemed like an eternity. So we made a different kind of love that night, reveling in the fact that we had overcome another disaster together. 

It was not a big production. I simply held her and stroked her until she said that she was ready for me. She said in an almost matter of fact tone of voice, "You need to fuck me now." Then she lay back in the classic fucking position and I entered her. 

This was probably the least complicated entry into her that I had ever made but we needed the connection. Her hot and silky pussy fluttered around me as I worked in and out of her. She made little gasps each time I bottomed out in her. Then she would emit a little puff of air as I withdrew. 

Because it was a connecting fuck, not a hot passionate one, that went on for perhaps forty five minutes and in that time the gasping got louder and louder and the puffs were now a lot like the breathing she did during child birth. 

Finally she spasmed and did a little thrashing. That sent me over the brink. 

It was not spectacular by our standards. It was just a reaffirmation. In many ways it was an intimate statement of our total confidence in each other. We had triumphed together as we always have. 

As I looked into her beloved face as she was coming back from our merging I knew that I had been blessed. There would never be another person in the world for me.

~

Janey

I was amazed by our good fortune. It appeared that the two people who should have been most traumatized by the events of the past three days had completely moved on without any awareness of how close they had come to catastrophe. 

I knew that Hilley would realize the magnitude of the potential disaster in her later years. But it was obvious that it would not have any significant impact on her psyche and it might actually make her stronger as she thought about what she had done in her own defense. That was as Hilda had predicted. 

Hilda herself was masterfully reassuring to our child. It made me wish we could move her into our estate just so I could have her near me. 

I wanted to have a female role model with almost the same desperation as the love I felt for Paul. 

He steers his own course and never seems to need other people's reassurance, except mine. On the other hand, I do not share Paul's inner guidance system. 

Maybe it is because women's lives, or their emotions, are more complicated. But sometimes I need to talk to a wise and experienced female. 

Hilda has a depth of wisdom that my mother was never capable of achieving, or providing. 

So I decided to raise the prospect of her moving into our mansion as soon as we finished our business.

Paul and I talked but the decision was already made as far as I was concerned. We had been blissfully naïve and very lucky this time. But there would certainly be other times. So we had to think about our child's safety and continuing to traipse around Europe with her and a governess without serious security protection was simply out of the question. 

Which meant that Hilley had to go back and that meant Ada too. I was a little angry at Paul because he could have solved the problem by simply bringing his security team back into play. 

But Paul is, and always has been, a lone wolf and more than a little anarchistic to boot and he would not travel like the rich man that he is. 

Nevertheless, I was not going to continue on with him. 

It made me sad because I understood Paul's situation. We had made commitments to people and Paul does not ever back off a commitment. It is one of the things that I love the most about him. And even with our combined wealth, Paul is still an Army Ranger at heart, who is used to doing the guarding, not being guarded. 

In a matter of five years he went from active duty soldier to very rich man and he has told me a number of times that he still doesn't understand how he got so wealthy, nor does he feel like he is any different person than the one who grew up on the Duluth docks. 

As a result there are still parts of him that are very uncomfortable being rich. It is almost like he is waiting for fate to come along and take it all away from him, like it was just a big cosmic joke.

I was brought up with wealth and I have never questioned who I am. At heart, Paul does not really consider himself one of the wealthy elite and he seems to be burdened by the belief that sooner or later he will be revealed as the imposter that he thinks himself to be. 

I am not a psychologist but his success might have happened too fast for him to internalize the meaning of it all. If you scratch him, right under the surface you will still find the blue collar orphan kid with no family and nobody to love him. 

That creates a serious fault line in the personality of somebody who is otherwise as competent, self-confident and self-reliant as Paul. 

His insecurity sometimes carries over into our marriage and I want to come to grips with it before he starts seeing things that aren't there. 

When he is in one of those moods I try to surreptitiously assure him that he is my one-and-only man. But I have noticed his insane lack of self-worth more on this trip than I have ever seen it before and I do not want him to ever think that I want anything more from him than the absolute love and devotion that he so obviously and freely gives me.  

He is so used to being alone and unacknowledged, that unfortunate state seems to be where he is the most comfortable. Thus, in my opinion it was a little too easy for him to decide that he would continue the journey on his own. 

It worried me that he would only have himself to rely on in harm's way. And it hurt me a lot to see him slip back into the closed up character he was before we met. 

But I knew that he was tough enough to see the challenge through and that Hilley was his top priority. I would join him when I was certain that Hilley was safe and more importantly had adjusted to what she had experienced. 

She is MY child and I know that she has my innate toughness and courage. But she had survived an experience that would send most adults off to therapy and I HAD to be with her until I was certain that there were no lasting effects. 

Our only aim was to ensure that there was no permanent damage to her psyche. Thus, first and foremost we did not want to do a lot of hand wringing in front of her. That would have made her think that she had been in more jeopardy than she actually was. 

We had decided to use the story that we had to return home to care for Zeus. And if Hilley went home then Ada would have to go with her and that solved that problem as well. 

I knew that Hilley's dedication to her dog would make that an automatic step for her. I also knew that Ada would never leave Hilley's side. The fact that Ada's boyfriend and future husband lived in Como would be an added bonus for her. She deserved that reward and a whole lot more for her sacrifice in our service. 

I had already taken the steps to ensure that she would be amply rewarded in that respect. My people were developing the initial plans for the beautiful little chalet right on the lake on our property that I was going to give to her and Fritz as our wedding gift. We were also planning on hiring Fritz as the handyman for our estate.

We awoke the next day and had a big breakfast downstairs in the hotel restaurant. Hilley, Paul, Ada Hilda and I talked about our house in Como and how nice it would be to get home. 

I off-handedly suggested to Hilda that perhaps she would like to stay with us for a while instead of rattling around her big old house in Geneva. 

She looked at me sharply, like I had been reading her mind and said, "I have been thinking of that too. I have been lonely there since Gerhardt died and I was wondering if it might not be better if I found a smaller place." We agreed to talk more about it once we got back. 

The little lady in my head was dancing around with joy at the thought of my having a wise woman friend to help keep me properly oriented. The business was efficient. German business is ALWAYS efficient. We finished in the early afternoon. 

Hilley was getting impatient to see Zeus and so we took her to the clinic where he was being prepared to go home. 

He was still being restrained while they built the orthopedic brace that would underlie the cast on his leg. But the restraint did nothing to confine the stump of his tail. The minute he saw us his eyes lit up with doggy love and his stump began to wag ferociously. 

He said in his most debonair French manner, "Ah! My little Mademoiselle it is so good to see you. I would stand to greet you but these people insist that I must lie down." 

Hilley threw her arms around the big lug's neck. He looked exactly like the heroic old veteran that he was. 

He was wearing some kind of surgical cap on his head where the bullet had creased it and only one ear was exposed. The other ear was partly missing due to the passage of the bullet. 

He was wildly licking Hilley's face, her arms, and her dress, whatever he could reach. She looked at him with ferocious little girl concentration and said, "I am going to take care of you when we get home and I am going to make you better." 

The big lug actually looked touched and said, "Merci ma belle!" Since Hilley is already fluent in French she said, "Avec plaisir monsieur." 

Paul went to bed that night with the resolution to proceed on our journey once we had seen our loved ones onto the chartered jet. However, there was one other little chore that I absolutely required Paul to do before we went to sleep. That was ME. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 02



I had not made love to him in three days and I had to put the extreme emotions I had experienced into some kind of tangible form. 

We persevere together and so it is sometimes necessary for me to have him inside me as a form of reassuring that bond. 

In some respects it was almost like recharging a battery. I simply lay there while he stroked my body like you would a cat in your lap. I was purring like one too. 

Then, when I was ready for him I just told him that he needed to fuck me. His entering me filled the void I always feel when I need him that way. We fucked slowly, almost dreamily for a very long time. 

We have reached the heights of physicality when we fuck but this was something different. It was him and me reassuring each other of our dedication to each other. Of course that didn't prevent my body from having all of its extreme sexual reactions to him. It was just that I was not vocalizing like I almost always do. 

I finally had a very strong and satisfying orgasm and that caused him to come inside me. But even that was more a sense of strengthening our togetherness than a feeling of sexual release. I am, and will always be, his. But there are times when our possession of each other is total. This was one of those times.

I needed that reassurance for what I knew I had to do next, which was to leave him for an indeterminate period of time. We have not been apart for more than a week in the twelve years that we have been married. And there was always a date certain when we would be back together. That was not the case this time and the impending separation weighed very heavily on me. 

~

Paul

La Legion was standing at parade attention when we came to get him. He was fully groomed with his Bouv whiskers bristling with martial valor. He looked a little different than he did the last time I saw him, covered by the carnage of the battlefield. 

He was wearing a bandage over his head that made him look like the jaunty dude on the right in the "Spirit of 76" painting. His left hind leg was in some kind of contraption that would allow him to walk without putting pressure on his wounded limb. And the leg itself was in a plaster cast. 

He saluted and said, "Je prendre son service, Messieur!!" I accepted his salute and said, "Your duty is to get better soldier. The mademoiselle will be your nurse and you will obey her every command". 

That wasn't as harsh as it sounded because I knew that Hilley would spoil him to death. But La Legion demands strict discipline. 

We rode out to Berlin Tegel with Janey and Hilda chatting with Hilley about her experiences on the trip. There was no mention of the last two days. 

Ada was basking in the glow of a young woman about to see her beloved and Zeus lay drooling in the middle of the limo floor. 

He was accepting the scrupulous but overenthusiastic ministrations of his new little nurse with Gallic stoicism. I hid the tear in the corner of my eye. 

We rolled up to the tarmac with the two NetJets already winding their turbines. 

The ground crew carried Zeus on-board the bigger Cessna. As they lifted him he looked slightly more arrogant than De Gaulle surveying the troops after the liberation of Paris. 

Hilda and Ada and shooed Hilley up the steps and into the plane and I turned to the love of my life. She was crying softly. I hugged her beautiful little body to me and said, "We have always triumphed together and we always will. This is just a short parting while we both do what we have to do."

"I will wake up thinking of you and I will go to sleep with your face in front of me. I will thank God for every minute I have been married to you and I will thank him for your love. Go take care of our child and I will see you around - Louie."

Then I turned as fast as I could and sprinted up the ramp of the little Fokker that was warming up next to the Cessna. I didn't want her to see my face since big tough men like me don't have tears in their eyes. I knocked on the door of the cockpit and said, "Let's roll". 

She was still standing there watching as we began to taxi out. The look on her face was pure anguish. I had the momentary selfish thought that maybe she DID love me as much as I loved her. I hated to admit that thought made me feel better, but I've known all along that I am an insecure and self-centered bastard.



A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03



This is another travel story from my second book. It follows right after the previous story. My theme in all of these stories is that married sex can be the best sex. That is illustrated here for those of you who have told me that you like your stories hot. I actually borrowed an idea toward the end of this from something I read on Lit a long time ago. I don't remember the title or the author but if you are out there thanks for the concept, it helped a lot with the narrative (and to make my point). As usual, thank you for reading me. 

*****

Dante's Inner Circle 

Paul

The Fokker dropped out of the clouds. Vienna International airport is southwest of the City, set in a lush green valley and right on the river. The Danube, which at this height looked more brown than blue, glittered directly below us. 

I was more depressed than I expected. Travel without Janey was something I never wanted to have happen. But coming into land was still a beautiful sight. The trip itself is barely over an hour so I still had most of the morning to explore the City. 

Vienna is historic and cultured beyond imagining. But it was never part of my business dealings. Accordingly I had no reason to visit before now. 

Then, after Janey and I were married we spent so much time exploring far-away places that we never got the time to come up to neighboring Vienna, even though it was only eight hours by car from our home in Como.

I had reserved a suite at the Hotel Sacher Wien, which is right in the middle of the historic City downtown. The hotel itself reeks of so much Habsburg grandeur that you would almost expect to run into Franz Josef sitting in the lobby reading a Kronen Zeitung. 

It was a little weird checking into a hotel alone for the first time in almost thirteen years. 

Janey and I had traveled Europe extensively before Hilley was born. Nonetheless, this was the first time I had actually been totally alone in a hotel since before Janey and I met. 

I think that if I was being honest, I would have to say that I was semi-enjoying the freedom to indulge just my own interests, rather than having to worry about the many needs of the entire entourage. But I missed my wife. 

The Burggarten was right up the street from the hotel, so as soon as I got situated in my room I strolled there to look at the facade of the old Hofburg Palace. 

The Hofburg Palace is the traditional winter home of the Habsburgs and the area I was standing in has been a seat of government for various empires for the past 800 years. So the term "majestic" doesn't really come close to describing the surroundings. 

Standing in the Heldenplatz and facing the extensive structure of the Hofburg I was looking at most of Austria's imperial history encapsulated in one building. 

The columns along the face of the crescent shaped Neue Burg section just screamed imperial grandeur. 

I lingered by the statue of the Duke of Marlborough's old pal, Eugene of Savoy, and looked back across the park toward the Staatsopernmuseum. 

THAT building is more-or-less ground zero for opera, having been graced by everybody from Mozart, to Mahler. 

The weather was beautiful, harkening to a potential early spring and I was in a relaxed mood. For a change I wasn't thinking about anything more than finishing our project in a reasonable period of time and I knew that all of the people I loved were safe and happy. 

As I hustled back down the Philharmonierstrasse toward the Sacher my little voice reminded me that I was getting ravenous. So I ducked into the lobby and across to the Café which is the originator of the legendary Sacher Torte. 

Because it was a beautiful spring day they had the windows open at the front of the restaurant. I sat at a table on the boulevard and eyed the Opera House across the street. 

I was watching the people go by, sipping my Viennese coffee and scarfing down the chocolate and apricot delicacy that is perhaps the most iconic symbol of that city. 

You don't have to spend much time in Vienna to realize that the Austrians and the Germans are not the same culture. 

There is something in the Austrians that makes them more extravagantly outgoing than their German peers. You can see it in their music and especially in their architecture. 

Munich is the same kind of City on the German side of the border so it might just be that southern Germans are more sociable than Northern Germans; like the south and the north in the U.S. 

While I was enjoying my one million calorie indulgence, I had the distinct feeling I was being watched. 

Given what had just happened in Berlin, my defenses went to Def-Con four and I began to aggressively scan the area looking for trouble. 

I had worked my search halfway around the café when I literally locked eyes with an exquisitely beautiful woman who was just standing there. She appeared to be about Janey's age. 

She was tall and model slim with a mane of copper colored hair above a perfectly proportioned heart shaped face. The impression was Irish colleen; huge green eyes an impish upturned nose and a gorgeous wide mouth with sculptured lips. 

Those lips hinted at a lot of good humor, and much more interesting things underneath. 

Her flawless skin was porcelain white instead of Janey's dusky color. The bright red of her lipstick and the dark green shadow, which highlighted those sparkling emerald eyes, was striking in contrast to that coloration. 

She was several inches taller than Janey, perhaps four inches. She was not as awesomely round as Janey but she did have an absolutely huge pair of tits, which looked all the larger because of her much narrower frame. 

They looked so big that my first thought was, "Those can't be real?" 

She was looking so directly at me that I did a comedy turn where I glanced behind me to see who she was really looking at. 

She was amused. She walked gracefully over to my table and said in a disturbingly sexy tone, "May I sit down?"

I am not used to having striking redheads with overdeveloped mammaries approach me at any time of the day, let alone lunch. 

Of course I am normally with a woman who outshines all others in the beauty department and that tends to discourage approaches from stray females. 

I gave her a puzzled stare and gestured with my hand toward the other seat. She sat down but continued to look amused.

She said, "You don't recognize me do you?" 

I said, "I'm sorry but no and there is NO possibility I would forget a face as beautiful as yours."

She chuckled again causing unspeakable forces to move around underneath her expensive cashmere sweater. She said, "I was at your wedding. I was Janey's best friend at Penn. My name is Emma Westlake. 

"You were led around all day looking like the bull that was going to be sacrificed to the gods of holy matrimony, which I guess you actually were. So I understand how you might miss even noticing somebody who looks like me." 

I was impressed by her total lack of false modesty.

I said, "Well you are right about being in a daze. It was a pretty sudden transition from the life that I WAS living to the one I am living now. But how could I have missed somebody as striking as you?"

She said, "I left early with Martin Van Dyke. You DO know who he is right?" 

I got two impressions from that question. The first was that she was testing my knowledge of how serious a couple Janey and Martin had been, prior to our getting together. 

After all, Janey WAS semi-engaged to the guy and he WAS perhaps the handsomest man I had ever known. 

The second impression was the fleeting sense that the two of them had left early because Emma wanted to give Martin the longest and hottest consolation fuck ever awarded to a spurned boyfriend.

Emma smiled and gracefully extended a long slim hand. I took it and shook it. I was thinking to myself, "This lady has serious money. The Rolex Datejust 31mm Gold President on that wrist must have set her back twenty five thousand bucks alone." 

She had a warm, mellow voice, not as smoky as Janey's but equally sexy. As she sat there in the chair across from me, much to the envy of every other man in the lobby, my little voice was shaking its head and wondering, "Man! Those two together must have made for some kind of popular student apartment!"

Emma said huskily, "Janey is a very old friend of mine. We lived together during our undergraduate days and we partied for years prior to that. 

We haven't seen each other in at least 13 years and then I run into her husband eating Sacher Torte in the lobby of the hotel where I am hosting a meeting. What kind of coincidence is that?" 

Emma said, "I work for the United Nations and I've lived here in the Museumsquartier for the past six years. 

That told me a couple of things. Miss Emma was living on a trust, not her own salary. People on UN salaries don't live in the Museumsquartier unless they have a second source of income and Janey's aristocratic friend didn't look like she did waitressing on the side. 

And second, Miss Emma was clearly as high minded as her former roommate. Emma laughed and said, "Work, might not be the right word. I serve as a facilitator for UNODA fund raising and other activities." 

My little voice chuckled and said, "I bet she has the nerds eating out of the palm of her hand".

The United Nations of Vienna is arguably ground zero for all things nuclear disarmament and most of the conferences that have gone on involving various rogue state's nuclear programs have been held there. 

If Emma was a friend of Janey's she had to be at least in her approximate league when it came to smarts and social graces. So Emma's working as an organizer of some of those conferences for the U.N. Office for Disarmament Affairs was definitely not too farfetched. 

The fact that she was also a stunningly attractive woman was probably not lost on the people throwing the conferences.

We talked amiably for several minutes. I asked her how she liked living in Vienna, which probably qualified as one of the world's stupidest question. 

She was polite, in that she didn't give me the look I probably deserved. 

It would be hard to imagine how a gorgeous 36 year old woman with Emma's obvious breeding and money WOULDN'T like a City as cultured and vibrant as Vienna. 

Emma told me that she enjoyed the nightlife and the clubs and that she would be happy to show me around if I had time. 

There was a lot in Emma's demeanor that made me think that there was more going on under that aristocratic surface than altruistic interest in nuclear disarmament. 

But she was Janey's friend and frankly I was so lonely that I wanted to be around anybody who even faintly reminded me of my wife. 

I told her I was only in town for meetings over the next couple of days. But that I would be happy to buy her dinner if she could find us reservations at whatever place best represented Vienna nightlife. 

She said, "I have a UNODA luncheon to get to upstairs but I will text you a number. It's my personal cell and I will always answer it no matter what time of day. Call me later this afternoon and I will tell you where to meet me." 

Then she arose languidly from the table. There was a stir among the men on the terrace. The effect was roughly the same lifting of heads and focusing of attention that you get with Serengeti antelope when the lion shows up. 

We shared an amused glance that said, "Men!" and she proceeded to twitch her way back inside. She looked as good going as she did coming.

It was still early afternoon. After I paid my lunch tab I went up to my room and did something that I almost never do. I took a nap. 

I am a big tough man. But the feelings of loss from being separated so suddenly from my wife had drained the energy out of me. 

I admit that I don't handle emotion well. I blame it on my upbringing. 

In effect, I had no mother. So, I had no maternal love in the early years of my life. Then my dad died when I was eight and I was brought up in a family of cousins. 

They all knew that I was not one of them. So any sign of weakness was a point of vulnerability they could use to inflict a delicious range of kid sponsored atrocities on me. 

My foster parents believed that any emotion, except that of fervent love of Jesus, was a sin and so they discouraged it. 

My co-workers at the ore loading docks boiled emotion down to two strictly man things; fighting and fucking. I did both of those well but there was not a lot of joy, or even sadness involved. It was sheer animal behavior. 

The only good emotion I have ever felt was my absolute love for my wife and child and that is so all consuming it has always been enough for me. 

Prior to marrying Janey the only other powerful emotion I ever felt was absolutely cold blooded fury. 

That emotion doesn't go away until I have exacted suitably ruthless payback, which was the situation with Janey's former lover Martin. And it was the situation three days ago in Berlin. 

Janey, I might add, has a million profound emotions. And she never seems to hold a grudge. 

My little voice has regularly reminded me that "It must be nice to NOT have to carry a list around with you all the time". 

I benefit from her entire range of emotions. But the most personal one is her extreme passion, which makes her an incredible lover. 

Of course she also has bright sunny laughter and fierce devotion in her little body, along with her iron courage. All of those make her the exceptional person that she is.

I called Emma to find out where to meet. It was around 5:00 and I had just gotten a text from her with a phone number. 

I said, "Hi, this is Paul Larson. You said something about me buying you dinner and you filling me in on all of the cool things to do in Vienna. What time should we meet and where?"

She laughed and said, "How about I fill you in on all of the cool things that your wife and I used to do in our teenage years and you can meet me at Korso. Reservations are hard to get but they know me. Is seven o'clock too soon?"

I said with gusto, "I've heard of that place and I'm starving. Should I pick you up or meet you there?"

She said, with flirtation in her voice, "I am tied up at UNODA and I need to change for such a handsome gentleman as you, so meet me at the restaurant."

I hung up grinning and called my beautiful wife. I figured that she and the gang would be well settled in as night began to fall and I wanted a full after-action report. 

I have mentioned before how husky and smoky her voice is. It is something that is a very unique and sexy part of the total package and hearing it never fails to generate massive yearning in my loins. 

She answered with a bright, "Hello lover"

I said, "And how are you, you sexy thing."

She said, "Everything is fine here. We got in before noon and we have been settling back into routine. 

"Hilly is in her room playing with Antonia and Felicia and regaling them with tales of her exploits. She hasn't even mentioned Berlin except to say that Zeus was hurt there."

I said anxiously, "Any signs of trauma?"

Janey laughed and said, "The only trauma so far has been my prying her away from poor Zeus. She has been feeding him way too many treats, he already threw up once."

I laughed and said, "Sounds like business as usual at the Larson house." 

Janey cooed, "I miss you." My heart spiked with sheer lust at the husky sound of that cherished voice.

I said laughingly, "Not as much as I miss you my love. 

"By the way, I ran into your oldest and dearest friend today, Emma Westlake. She works here in Vienna at the United Nations. I am going to buy her a bite to eat tonight and she is going to fill me in on all of the wild things you two used to do before you became an old married lady." 

There was total icy silence on the other end of the phone. I said, "Hello???"

Janey said with anger in her voice, "What is she trying to IMPLY buster!!? Just because we partied together doesn't mean that I was as slutty as she was!" 

I said, "Okaaaaaay?!" 

She said, "There have been some things that happened during that period that I haven't told you about" 

I said inquiringly, "And you are about to do that now??" 

She said, "Emma might seem like a well put together preppie but she has a problem with alcohol and when she drinks she does some incredibly stupid things, usually with men." 

I said, "And that affects you and me; how??!" 

She said, "Occasionally back then she would pull me into situations that I am not proud of." 

I said, "For instance??!" 

She said, "For instance I would occasionally wake up in some strange guy's bed the morning after." 

My eyelids must have flown up like window shades, while she quickly added, "I had too robust a self-image and I was too afraid of STDs to actually fuck any of those guys. But I DID spend the night with them and we DID fool around, sometimes a lot." 

I said, "Okay, but that was fifteen years ago, how does that affect us now?" 

My little voice was telling me that it really wanted to drive to Como rip off her clothes and have her right there on the floor; just to get the erotic image of her waking up with some strange guy out of my head. 

She said, "I don't think she has changed very much so watch yourself." 

I said, "What the heck does that mean". 

She said, "I think she will try to get you to fuck her." 

I spluttered, "PARDON ME??!! That is simply never going to happen!! Who do you think you're talking to??!" 

She said, "Yes I know, I trust you and she IS supposed to be my friend, but she just can't help herself." 

I said, "And you put up with THAT!!?" 

She said, "I wasn't ever afraid of losing any men to her, but once she has had too much to drink she has no concept of appropriate. 

"Back in the day she even came on to my daddy when she was drunk." 

I said with a certain amount of wariness in my voice, "Well, that's certainly new and very useful information. The woman seemed to be so totally cool and in control. Do you want me to call and cancel with her? "

Janey said, "No, don't do that. I trust you and your love for me. 

"More important it would look to her like I had warned you off, which would cause a huge loss of face for me. But just make sure you don't get into any situations where she can embarrass you." 

I said "Great! You're not here and I have to fend off a man-eater who I am only hanging around with because I thought she was a friend of yours."

Janey said, "In a twisted kind of way she is like my nutty twin sister, so be good to her. Just give me a call when you get back tonight, okay?"

I said with great resolve in my voice, "I will remain pure and unravished at your request my love."

She hung up laughing and I sat there scratching my head, was there a hint of jealousy there? 

~

Janey

I had to warn Paul even though it meant I had to reveal some things that I would have just as soon kept to myself. 

Men are simple creatures when it comes to the games that sophisticated women play. 

I think it comes from the fact that they think mostly with that little head buried in their pants. And they are pack animals. Consequently, for most of them friendship tends to equate with concepts of strict collective loyalty. 

On the other hand in the case of women, particularly ones with the outright sexuality that Emma and I both have, friendship can often turn into a competition to prove who the queen bitch is. 

Back in my late teens and early twenties we regularly had opportunities to compete along those lines at the clubs that we visited. 

I always ruled the dance floor and that was a huge advantage for me when it came to showing off the goods. 

But Emma had one advantage that I didn't have. She was willing to do anything with any man who caught her fancy. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03



Often that took place in dark corners, rest rooms and even alley ways behind the club, but it gave her considerable appeal to certain types of guys. 

It was a standard routine most club nights, I would hit the dance floor and she would stand there long enough to attract the right man. 

If she was drunk a number of interesting sexual incidents might happen while I was dancing. And since men usually travel in herds I would frequently find myself going along with her to some apartment, or loft to finish off the evening. 

That would typically also put me in some kind of compromising situation with whoever Emma wasn't screwing. 

I never actually fucked any of them. Not because I was afraid of the fucking part. It was just that I like to at least know the guys last name before I let him into my body. And the situations she would get us into did not lend themselves to in-depth discussions about a bedmate's personal and sexual history. 

Nevertheless, because Emma would normally spend the night loudly banging in one room, I often found myself in bed with some strange guy on the other side of the wall. And since I like sex I often did some very stimulating things with those men; just never crossed any actual lines. 

That behavior had all changed when I got my own place. I didn't see Emma as often and we drifted apart. I was getting into much more serious relationships at that point, ones where I was actually regularly fucking the guy. 

Then I met Paul and all of the kiddy experimentation came to an instant stop. 

I had not had one thought of Emma, or our clubbing days, until Paul mentioned he had run into her. And I was justifiably very concerned about her spending any time with Paul. 

He is totally naive when it comes to women like Emma. I know that he is so clueless because the vast majority of his experiences came with women who didn't know how to play the game any better than he did. 

But the idea of leaving him with a sophisticated predator like Emma was sort of like leaving a baby in the clutches of a Bengal tiger and trusting it not to eat the kid. 

So I had to warn him. 

I could tell that my discussing my early sexual adventures also turned him on a lot. 

The little lady in my head noted that for future exploitation. One should always be looking for ways to spice up your married sex life.

~

Paul

Korso is located in the Hotel Bristol, which is another five star hotel. 

The Bristol was just a block and half from the Sacher so I walked there. 

It was a beautiful evening in Vienna. The air was getting that fertile Springy texture to it and I was feeling lighthearted mainly because I thought I detected a delicious sense of possessiveness in my wife. 

I am not stupid enough to even think about exploiting that but it DID indicate to me that maybe she felt the same crazy way about me as I did about her. 

The entrance to Korso is off the street across from the Opera and it was everything I had expected. 

It was obvious from the beginning that Emma was at least as sophisticated as Janey and the entire ambience reeked of money and class. 

I had arrived a little early and the Maître'd showed me to my table. I knew I was going to be drinking wine. Women like Emma do not drink beer. 

So I wanted to sample an Ottakringer, the local Viennese beer, while I waited.

As I sipped I looked around at Vienna's social elite. And make no mistake; this was where the crème-de-la-crème of their society hung out. 

I was in one of the silk-blend bespoke suits that Janey has made for me by a tailor in Hong Kong. 

Her taste is so unerringly perfect that she can even dress a hulking red-neck like me and make me look like a successful man. 

Emma appeared fashionably late and three Ottakringers later. 

She walked in the door looking ethereally beautiful and every male eye watched her with longing. Mine might have been the only exception, since I have a much more striking version as a life's companion. But Emma is beyond a doubt an exquisitely gorgeous creature. 

Emma was done up in a way that emphasized her porcelain skin and flashing green eyes. 

Janey often dresses to minimize her splendid chest. She thinks that showing off her girls without any purpose other than to generate sheer lust in the male onlookers is tacky. 

On the other hand, Emma had clearly decided to go all out displaying her incredibly large shapely breasts. 

There was no doubt that Miss Emma had a magnificent pair of bouncers. They were so big and she is so slim that they looked like somebody had attached two watermelons to a broomstick. 

Those two beauties were on display to a point where I was wondering what kind of super glue she was using to keep her nipples just concealed under the deep cut out in the front. 

Since Emma's skin was so flawlessly translucent the emerald color of the dress seemed to make it glow. And she was showing several inches of her slim beautifully shaped legs at the bottom. 

She struck a pose just before she sat down and said with a certain amount of challenge in her eyes, "You like?" I liked a lot. She was 

dazzling. But of course she was not close to being Janey. 

I stood and attended to her chair. She sat with the classic grace of a well-bred woman. I sat down opposite and she was looking at me radiating good humor. 

She said, "So you are the legendary Paul Larson, the guy our circle has heard so much about. Janey disappeared so fast off the social radar after you two met that none of her friends ever got the chance to know you."

I said, "It WAS rather sudden and it must have represented a mind-blowing change for Janey. 

"After we met it seemed like the two of us just disappeared into a little cocoon of happiness and then just before the wedding we bought the house in Mystic. 

"We moved there right after the honeymoon."

She looked slightly envious and said, "Where was the honeymoon? 

I said, "I would have taken her anywhere but as you know she is crazy about history and so we spent the entire two weeks touring around Tuscany and the Italian coast from Rome to Naples. 

I don't think there was a Roman or Greek ruin that we didn't poke around. She loves Italy and we eventually settled in Como after our child came along."

Emma looked sad. She said with tone of envy in her voice, "I have always wanted a child. But I guess it isn't in the stars for me. Tell me about yours."

I said, "Her name is Helen. It was natural to name her that because she was conceived in the ruins of ancient Troy. 

"She might exceed her mother for sheer beauty. But I could be a little biased" 

Emma looked intrigued and said, "Ancient Troy, tell me about THAT!"

I said, "We were sailing the Eastern Mediterranean at the time. I knew Janey wanted a child in the worst sort of way and you know how she is about history so I arranged for us to have some privacy at the archaeological dig that was going on at the site of the Troy of the Iliad. 

"We made love there. It was our first attempt at conception and given the fact that Janey always does things better than any other female she managed to get herself knocked up first try. 

"So it was natural to name our daughter Helen. If it had been a boy we would have either named him Hector, or Achilles. We call her Hilley and she is the other love of my life."

Emma looked like I had just confirmed everything she ever thought about her friend. I said, "So how did you and Janey get together?"

She said, "Janey and I used to rule the male population in high school.Janey and I had not exactly grown up on the same street. But since we were arguably the two hottest and richest girls at Philadelphia Prep Charter we evolved from arch rivals, to learning that it was easier to hunt men if you had a wing-chick. 

"Once we got into college it just seemed logical to room together. 

"Before coming into her family money she more-or-less lived like the other starving college students at Penn, meaning we had a neat little apartment that we shared. 

"As you can see, Janey is as much opposite me as she can be and still be in the same species. She is short, dark and voluptuous where I am taller than average, very fair skinned and slim. 

"But mainly, where she was athletic, I considered anything involving sweat to be exhausting and beneath my upbringing." 

"What we did have in common were two of the largest pairs of tits on campus and an appetite for men that meant that we never went into places without somebody to guard our six. So Janey did the dancing and I did the drinking. 

"In our early 20s the two of us used to go clubbing in New York every weekend. We'd ride up on the train on Friday and boogey until all hours. Then we would crash in some upscale hotel on my rich daddy's credit card and take the train home. 

"I enforced a "No Creeps Zone" for her on the dance floor and she made sure that we got home safely and without any company that we didn't want to keep."

That coincided with what Janey had told me. Then Emma laughed and said, "Janey was pretty wild back in our clubbing days." 

Suddenly I was beyond curious. I said, "I get the impression that she didn't have many men in her life before she met me." 

Emma laughed uproariously and said, "She must have fucked half the eligible males in Manhattan. I don't think she was loudly playing video games during her long sweaty nights in some strange guy's bed." 

That statement caused a jolt of jealousy that nearly killed me, even though Janey had warned me in advance. 

If Janey had out-and-out lied to me about her sexual history then she was somebody I absolutely did not know and all of my old insecurities kicked in. I suddenly felt very forlorn and alone. 

I didn't want Emma to sense any of that. So I told myself to grow up and address the current situation, which was dinner with a beautiful and accomplished woman. 

We had ordered a $300 bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which Emma was killing like it was Kool-Aid. I wasn't sure about ordering a second bottle. Emma solved that problem by asking the waiter for another. 

The food was as tasteful and exquisite as I expected and the evening wound on in a series of recollections of the past. But I couldn't get the idea of Janey fucking half of Manhattan out of my head and so I might have appeared a little distracted.

We ordered a decanter of the Marillenschnaps and I was watching Emma getting more-and-more toasted, when a bare foot began to snake its way up my leg. 

My dinner companion was sitting there with the blandest, most innocent look on her face. 

Nevertheless, I couldn't think of anybody else's foot that could reach that far except hers. 

I shot out my chair trying to look like I was NOT startled. I said as suavely as possible, given the erection she had just given me, "I have to use the facilities and then I suppose we should put you in a cab since I have an early day tomorrow." 

She said, "I could walk back to your hotel with you and find a cab from there." 

I knew what she was angling for and we would be dive bombed by flying pigs before I invited her up to my room. 

I decided that Miss Emma was indeed a VERY bad girl. 

We walked the 300 yards or so up the Kärntner Strasse with her intimately holding my arm, one heavy breast resting on my forearm with a big rock hard nipple poking into it. 

When we got to the lobby of the Sacher she turned to me looking dreamy and said, "I won't invite myself up to your room tonight. But you have to do me a favor and escort me to the annual UNODA fund raiser at the Palais Ferstel tomorrow. I am the coordinator and I don't have a date for it." 

She added puppy-dog eyes to the dreamy look. I am always a sucker for puppy-dog eyes. 

I was going to plead business but I am not that big a coward. And I really had nothing to do tomorrow night. 

So I said, "I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman to her party, what kind of dress is it?" 

She said, "Black tie. Do you have an outfit?" 

I love black tie. It is so far from my early life experience I will take any opportunity to dress up like that. 

So I said, "I can get one. What time do you want me to pick you up?" 

She said, "I have to be there early to check the arrangements but I will leave word at the door. How about meeting me in ballroom at 7:00?"

I put her in a cab. She grabbed my hand as I was closing the door and said with an absolutely sizzling sexual look, "Thank you for a wonderful evening." She than kissed my hand while she proceeded to show me about a half-acre of cleavage and two of the biggest breasts in Western Europe. 

I made my way rather unsteadily up to my room. It wasn't the drink. Miss Emma just seemed to have that effect on men, even a guy as happily married as I am. 

I was thinking to myself, "This might be a fun new experience. 

"But if I don't keep her away from alcohol it might also turn into a big game hunt featuring me as the prey."

I called Janey as soon as I got back. 

She answered first ring like she was waiting by the phone. 

I said, "You're right. She's definitely a man-eater. I barely got out of the restaurant with my virtue intact" the snicker I gave didn't even sound convincing to me. 

There was dead air on the other end of the line. 

I said, "Are you there?"

She said, "I am there my love and I assume because you are calling me so early in the evening that nothing untoward happened."

I said, "There weren't any outright attempts at raping me. But I think that she was headed in that direction." more cold silence at the other end of the line. 

I decided that I really had no experience talking to a woman about things like that.

I said, "She talked me into accompanying her to some U.N. event they are throwing tomorrow night. I couldn't think of any way to get out of it without outright telling her that I was afraid of her. 

"Do you want me to cancel? I will? It isn't like I am going to actually succumb to her charms but she is acting like the two of us are an item and that seems like a betrayal of you; even though everything has been strictly hands-off so far."

Janey said in a tone of voice that I did not recognize but which might have been close to the Janey of the Manhattan clubbing days, "No, you have to accompany her for sure. This is a challenge and I can play that game better than she can."

I thought, "What the fuck does that mean?" But I am aware that women's brains function on a wider bandwidth than men.

We went through the normal endearments that we have always shared before sleep and then I sadly ended the connection.

It was rainy the next day. But the rain was very light and it created a romantic setting with the wet streets and the people bustling past under umbrellas. 

It was still warm and so the hotel had the street-side doors open in the Café. 

I was sitting there sipping my Viennese coffee and eating some kind of intricate pastry confection. I was thinking about my conversation with Emma last night.

I am not what might be called the "jealous type". But Janey and I share a special bond that the best couples always have and there are never any secrets between us. 

Last night's conversation was quite disturbing to me because it indicated that there might be some things that she wasn't telling me about her past life. 

I was perfectly willing to accept the fact that somebody as sexual as my wife might have sown a few wild oats in her younger days. 

After all, I ALREADY knew about the 54 year old that she was fucking when she was only 18. 

But the concept of Janey having frequent indiscriminate sex with large numbers of faceless men just didn't jibe with the woman I thought I knew. 

Worse, if she had been doing that I would expect her to tell me about it. 

As much as my own confession shamed me I had eventually confessed my promiscuous life as a soldier and both of us were the better for that confession. 

That was because it got the sins of my past out of the way between us and there were no more guilty barriers. 

I was certain that the person who had been my partner for the past twelve years was someone of great honesty and personal integrity. That was not the same woman Emma had described. 

What was upsetting me was the thought that perhaps Janey felt like she had to hide something important from me. 

I owed it to Janey to not carry around thoughts that she was a whole lot sluttier in an earlier incarnation. And if she was, I needed to make it clear that she did not need to hide that fact. 

So I owed her a frank talk when we were next together. Knowing that would happen, I put those insecurities in a box to deal with in their proper place. I had business to attend to now.

I paid my tab and wandered into the conference room, which I had reserved for the day. I had made arrangements with the Austrian representatives to meet me there. 

All four were PhDs and three of them were Professors, which indicated how seriously the Austrians were taking our initiative. 

I am a lot less intuitive and more of a plodder than Janey. Thus, the meeting with the Austrians took almost all day. The actual discussion was as brusque and formal as one might expect with people who insisted that you call them "Herr Doktor Professor".  

Inside my head I was thinking to myself that academics insist on titles because they really don't have anything else going for them. 

We probably spent more time on the administrative details than Janey would have but at the end of the meeting we had a satisfactory resolution. 

We shook hands. One of them actually clicked his heels when he did it. I thought that they only did those things in the Prussian General Staff. 

It was getting close to evening. I had told my guy in California to order up a tailored black tie ensemble from Knize, which is the best bespoke place in Vienna. 

Of course he already had all of my measurements. 

It had been delivered to my suite while I was in my meeting and it was hanging there waiting for me when I got to the room.

I had to admit that I was a little nervous. In the first place I am not an "Embassy Ball" kind of fellow. I have always depended on Janey's unerring social graces to get me through those kinds of evenings. 

And I was more than a little afraid of what Emma might try to do afterward. 

I had absolutely NO intention of letting her add me to her vast collection of men, even if I was not committed to a woman who I thought was the pinnacle of womanhood. 

Likewise, the idea that Emma might leave the impression with the people attending the party that we were a couple was a little disquieting.

The problem was that I had no concept of how to handle Emma. I am not socially adept. I am the son of a bar fighting, whore fucking dockworker. I was a soldier and a businessman-nerd. I was never a person of sophistication. 

And until I made my money there was never a woman in my life who was NOT as simple minded as I was. 

I knew how to handle a bar slut's advances. But Emma was slippery, even though she was probably just as slutty as any of my past women. 

She never gave me an opportunity to draw the line. Instead she stayed just the right side of appropriate, using innuendo and the occasional intimate touch to substitute for the direct come-on. 

And if I HAD tried to draw some sort of line with her I would have looked like an egotistical jerk since what she was doing was a matter of interpretation, rather than actual fact. 

For instance, everybody at last night's restaurant thought we were a happily married couple. 

She never outright made that point. But it was all in the way she focused her attention on me and oriented herself toward me and touched me as we interacted. 

I was sure I was in for the same treatment tonight. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03



And although there was absolutely no reason to think anything more about the situation then the way it was, it felt like I was somehow betraying my wife. 

Nonetheless, short of not showing up at all there was no way around it. And Janey had ordered me to go but it was a frustrating state of affairs.

I had hired a car for the evening. I like Maybach 62s as an evening town car because they provide the sort of quiet, sensual luxury necessary to make the right statement. 

I was driven the mile and half to the Ferstel Palace and I told the driver to be ready to pick me up when I called. 

The gala itself was being held in the main ballroom of the Palace. It was a fund-raiser for UNICEF and even though I was the invited guest of the organizer herself, I thought it was appropriate to drop off a draft for ten thousand Euros at Reception. 

This Reception was like the herald's station for a grand ball. There were very polite and white-gloved minions who took your invitation and discreetly steered you to a place at one of the tables that were set around the marble dance floor. 

I told them to tell Emma that I was here.

With the floor to ceiling windows the place was a baroque wonder, even if it was actually only about 200 years old. 

This whole evening was Emma's doing. I had to marvel at her ability to create the classiest kind of ambience. 

I wandered up to the full mahogany bar and ordered a double Marillenschnaps in a snifter and drifted over to stand next to one of the windows. 

Looking around at the gala crowd I could see that I was a long way from the taconite docks in Duluth. And the part of me that still doesn't believe his good fortune was waiting for some snooty butler to come along and "remove" me. 

I felt more alone than I have been in twelve years.

Then I heard a sultry, smoky voice next to me say, "You, look like a guy who would like to meet a girl like me. Why don't we go someplace private and you can see whether I'm easy?" 

I recognized the voice and my head snapped around in total astonishment. There she was in all of her spectacular glory. 

My mind was so totally blown that it took me a second to even reboot it. But I tried to play it cool. 

I said as casually as possible, "I was waiting around for the hottest woman on the planet and it looks like she just showed up," 

Then I gathered her in an embrace and kissed her with overwhelming need and passion. 

~

Janey

Paul is a good-hearted soul and I know that he loves me. But I had spent far too many nights watching Emma in action to allow her to have any time alone with the love of my life. 

He is the sort of guy who has no idea of his effect on women. 

He thinks of himself as an out-of-place, hulking red-neck. While everybody else sees this very dangerous looking man in a tailored tux, with eyes that miss nothing and that will look right through you to the bottom of your soul. 

James Bond himself should be so magnetic. 

And I knew that Emma would make a play for him tonight. I was certain that nothing lasting would happen because I am sure that he is mine and mine alone. 

But he is a man with no social grace whatsoever and the minimum I could expect would be that whatever actually occurred would be unpleasant, if not totally embarrassing to all of us. 

I had accomplished what I had set out to do. My level-headed daughter was thoroughly and comfortably engaged back into the life that she had been living before our great adventure. 

She was upstairs playing with her two best friends; who I might add were the daughters of local middle-class tradesmen, not the social elite. 

Hilley is more of a populist than Eugene Debs when it comes to her friends and confidants.

She was re-enacting some of the things that had happened to her on her trip. And there was not even a mention of kidnapping. 

I know that she was aware that something bad had happened. But as Hilda predicted Hilley knew that she had triumphed, right to the bottom of her brave little soul. And she would be stronger because it had not defeated her. 

Ada, who had a touching reunion with Fritz her fiancé. She was fussing around Hilly as she always did. 

Zeus was lounging imperiously on a bed that we had made up especially to accommodate his appliance. He looked like a cross between Vercingetorix and the famous Roman statue of the Dying Gaul.

I could tell that Paul was beside himself with apprehension and I was no more than an irritation to my daughter, who was already treating me like she usually does; basically like I was in her way. So I knew where my duty NOW lay. 

I would have probably joined him sooner than later since it was clear that I was not needed at home any more. But given the situation with Emma I had something a little more dramatic in mind and it did NOT involve telling them that I was coming.

I chartered an airtaxi for the 300 mile flight to Vienna. The Bell 407 picked me up on the lawn and I was in my own room at the Sacher by 3 PM. I was planning a "surprise" for that evening. 

I knew that Paul would be delighted. I was pretty sure that Emma would NOT be. Nevertheless, I wanted to make a point that neither of them would forget 

I had guessed that Paul would finish his meetings around 4 PM and so I taxied down to the Ferstel Palace where the event was being held and made a "donation" from my own funds that guaranteed VIP treatment when I arrived. 

That also kept me away from the lobby during the time I thought he would be wandering around down there, 

Then, I made a couple of stops along the Jasomirgottstrasse to pick up some fashion accessories that I would need to complete my ensemble. 

I assumed he would be leaving the hotel around 7PM and so I was slyly sitting in the Hotel's Blue Bar sipping Pernod and observing him as he exited. 

He was dressed in a black tie ensemble that looked tailored for him. His blond hair shone like a halo above his rugged, deeply tanned face and his sailor's beard had been neatly trimmed. 

But he did not radiate his usual confident jaunty self. Instead he looked like a Christian who was about to be fed to the lions. Without me there he probably would have been.

He got in a Maybach and was chauffeured off. It was an odd choice of transportation, one that made me wonder if he was not more under the spell of that woman than I had assumed. 

I waited another fifteen minutes and took a taxi down to the Ferstel.

I had thought a lot about what I ought to wear and eventually decided on the classic tight black silk evening gown with my auburn hair piled up so that there was nothing but skin from my hairline down to the tops of my boobs. 

I like my neck and shoulders. They are muscular rather than bony. My dress showed them off to their optimum. 

I went with diamond earrings and the simple diamond necklace that Paul gave me on our first anniversary. It drapes nicely in my cleavage and the gold contrasts well with my coloration.

My boobs are bigger than Emma's. Hers just look bigger because she is so skinny. I wanted to make a point about that so I had the girls hoisted into two huge delectable mounds by a black bustier bra. 

I had on a black a thong and garter belt contraption that held up my hose showed off my big round ass and protected my modesty without actually making anything unintended visible. 

I had gotten all of that equipment on the Jasomirgottstrasse that afternoon.

The dress itself was classic length for evening attire, tight across my hips and ass but it had two slits up the side from my ankles to my hips. I wanted a flash of leg to appear as I walked. I know that my legs are my best and most unique feature and I wanted to use them.

I did the kind of makeup I rarely use on my eyes and cheekbones but I wanted to look my best tonight. I rarely outline my lips but I wanted to make them kissable. 

I splashed on a liberal dose of the killer perfume that I buy from the little perfumery in the 1st Arronddisement. I have worn it all of the time we have been married and it reduces Paul to a little ball of lust. That was my general aim. 

It also seemed to distract the cab driver. Since I didn't want to suffer the irony of being killed driving over to surprise my love I told the driver to keep his eyes on the road, not my chest. 

I got the greeting I expected from Reception. They appreciated the donation to the point where they wanted to put me at the head table. Then they found out that Paul Larson was my husband. 

Based on his donation I think that they wanted to hold a special ceremony as well. I told them that we were there to support UNICEF, not garner publicity. 

I saw him the instant I came into the room. He was drifting away from the bar toward his usual position, which is lurking surreptitiously next to a wall. 

He was looking very lonely and unhappy. I felt a pang of selfish joy that I had caused that. 

I worked my way around out of his line of sight until I came up behind him. 

Then, in my huskiest and smokiest voice I said something about seduction and how easy I thought I might be for the right man. 

He turned startled. It was clear he had recognized my voice but it didn't compute. He actually stopped and gawked at me like I was an apparition. 

His just standing there staring at me took me out of my game. So I ALSO just stood and gazed at him with a tentative smile on my face. 

My little voice said, "Say something you idiot before he resorts to exorcism". 

I said, "Well, are you happy to see me?" In response he absolutely crushed me to his barrel chest and I think there were tears in his eye. 

I tilted my head back and he kissed me like he was 20,000 leagues under the sea and I was his oxygen supply. 

It put a lot of things in perspective for me and it confirmed what I had suspected. He REALLY missed me.

~

Paul

I was feeling sorry for myself when I heard her voice. I had the momentary thought that I was hallucinating. Then I turned and saw her standing there. It simply blew my mind. 

I just stood there with my mouth hanging open gaping like an idiot. 

Had I summoned her through some form of superhuman teleportation? 

The joy I felt and my love for this woman just soared out of the stratosphere.

And she was a vision of such superb beauty that it brought real tears to my eyes. 

I have seen Janey dress for every conceivable situation. In all of those instances her appearance will range from fabulous to outright stunning. 

But tonight she would have made Aphrodite the goddess of love melt with pure envy. 

The dress she was wearing was some sort of silk thing that looked incredibly tasteful and expensive and which left her bare to the shoulders. 

She has the highest, firmest and largest pair of tits a woman could ever ask for and she had hoisted her girls up to stunning proportions. The delectable mounds sticking up above the neckline of the dress were astonishing.

She was wearing some sort of contraption, that made it look like she was not wearing panties and at the same time nicely covered up all of the strategic spots. 

The view of those magnificent buns twitching without the benefit of any form of cover was unspeakably moving to my male mind. 

Janey has absolutely perfect legs and the dress that she had on was designed to show them off to their ultimate advantage as they appeared and disappeared in the swirling fabric. 

She actually told me that that was a tactic she used to emphasize her sexuality. She knew that no man would miss the perfect musculature of those thighs or the shapeliness of those calves. 

Her legs are so perfectly colored that she never needs to wear nylons. But in this case she had a black pair on that went just above the radically high cut slits of her dress and gave her legs a sparkle of mystery. 

Her makeup was what was different about her though. Because of her bone structure and perfect skin Janey can go completely without makeup and look better than most women. I get used to seeing her that way. 

However, when she goes all-out with those indescribably striking eyes and applies the other feminine touches to her face she has the potential to stop male hearts. 

Apparently she was aiming for myocardial infarctions for the entire male population tonight, because she was so artfully made-up that her beauty made you want to weep. 

Then you got close enough to her to smell her perfume. That was the final fatal touch. It works with her body chemistry in a way that should be outlawed by the Geneva Conventions. 

Your first thought when it hits you is absolute and complete yearning. 

I was probably snorting and pawing the ground as I stared at her. Then I gathered her into my arms and kissed her with all of the feelings of loneliness that had accumulated over the last two days. 

That might have led to other things but she would not let me mess up her carefully done makeup. So she did a quick spin move out of my arms and headed toward Reception. 

I followed in her wake watching those magnificent buns twitch. And bounding along like Pepe Le Pew. 

Emma was waiting for us at Reception and she did not look pleased. She gave both of us a fake smile and said, "Janey, they told me you were here. How good of you to join us. And we can't thank you enough for the generous donation." 

Her tone of voice actually seemed to say, "What the FUCK are YOU doing here!!?"

Janey said, "It was mine and my husband's pleasure." There was a heavy emphasis on the words, "MY husband". 

"We want to support UNICEF's efforts any way we can. Children are the reason why Paul and I have been traveling around Europe together for the past two months". Again, there was a very heavy emphasis on the word "together".

"Our daughter was traveling with us but I had to take her back to our estate. Nevertheless, I couldn't wait to rejoin Paul. 

"Thank you SO much for watching out for him while I was taking care of our child. I know he missed me while I was gone". 

The emphasis on "our child" couldn't be overlooked as she gave my arm a proprietary squeeze smashing it between her weighty breasts.

This conversation was taking place in a highly refined and civilized manner, like the two of them were long lost friends who were absolutely delighted to see each other. 

However, the subtext was more along the lines of a hair pulling, rolling around on the floor bitch fight between two broads in a biker bar. 

I marveled at the sophistication and ferocity of the jungle that women live in.

Emma said, "Your donation qualifies you two to sit at the head table with me and the other dignitaries. 

"Paul is my guest so he would have sat with me in any case. But you are welcome to join us". 

The sweet smile she gave Janey looked exactly like a Bengal Tiger showing somebody its teeth. 

Janey took my hand and said, "I want both of us to be seen as clearly supporting you. After all you are my best female friend. And since Paul would never sit anywhere EXCEPT next to me I accept your kind offer". 

The threat was clear and she did everything to highlight it with the exception of actually flexing her claws in and out.

This was getting scary. It was the most cordial conversation that I had ever witnessed where death threats were implied. 

To separate the two combatants I said, "Why don't we find our seats and I can get the two of you a drink."

They both turned to me brightly. I had the feeling that they were now thinking about sawing me in half and divvying up the spoils. 

They both said almost simultaneously, "Pernod" and went back to looking at each other like a mongoose and a cobra.

I went over to the bar and ordered up another Marillenschnaps and two Pernods and headed toward where the two of them were taking their seats. 

There was some more jockeying going on, but in the end they compromised and left the seat between them empty. The unspoken stares made it look like I was now sitting in their version of no-man's land.

Throughout this anybody looking at the two of them would have assumed that the world's most refined and pleasant conversation was taking place. 

I made a note to myself to NOT forget that I was totally out of my league with those two.

Dinner was the usual drone of self-congratulatory speeches and ego stroking. The food was excellent, which seemed to be one of Emma's trademarks. 

The two of them exchanged conversation around me along the lines of catching up, as well as establishing their position for further negotiation. 

It was like I wasn't even there.

Then the tables were cleared and a DJ started setting up what looked like a bank of 2 million watt speakers. The room darkened and a series of spotlights in the roof came on highlighting the dance floor. 

The Viennese ball was about to begin. Except, the music was not exactly a Straus waltz and this was clearly the 21st, not the 19th Century. 

I was hit by a wall of techno sound that turned the elegance of the place into something else entirely. 

Of course as soon as the music started my wife headed for the dance floor like the Pied Piper was playing lead guitar. And she didn't stop until she was spotlighted in the middle of the room. 

She was out there with her arms over her head doing something with her hips that made you think of sultans and dancing girls and drifting sensual clouds of hashish smoke. 

Janey never waits to be asked to dance. All she has to do is appear on the floor and she attracts partners. 

Tonight, in a formal evening dress that covered everything but still left her amazing body for everybody to see, she actually had a couple of men stop dancing with their partners and follow her as she walked to the spot where she had decided to post up. 

Knowing the perfume cloud she was trailing I could understand why. 

Emma looked at me with a question in her eye and we both got up from our seats and made our way over to the bar. The crowd more-or-less parted as she walked along and filled in behind her. 

All I could think of was Moses and the Red Sea. Except this version was a lot better looking than Charlton Heston or any of his Hollywood leading ladies. 

I bought a pitcher of gin and tonic and we appropriated a table right next to the dance floor. 

Janey was in the middle of the floor dancing with what appeared to be three guys simultaneously. The sound was deafening so talking was out of the question. It was also getting hot.

We hadn't been there 3 minutes when some 60 year old guy who looked like a former Eastern European Count asked Emma to dance. 

She smiled at me with her eyes and went out onto the dance floor. 

Her moves were nowhere near as polished and graceful as Janey's but they might actually have communicated more raw sexual promise. 

I was doing what I normally do, which is to watch the people around me. 

They were all my social superiors. That fact was for certain. Most of them were older than me but a few were mid-30s. 

Oddly enough, the music was stuff I recognized. It was mostly the late '70s and '80s tunes that I remembered from my off-base military days. 

Janey came over; after thoroughly demonstrating what the difference between an amateur and professional looks like. 

She actually downed a drink. She was hot so she slammed the gin and tonic I had poured for her, which is a heavy dose of alcohol for her and then asked for another. She gulped that down and went back on the floor. 

Emma appeared, with the same glow on. She asked me if I would buy another pitcher of gin and tonics. I said, "Sure". 

The bar was a rat-race so I ordered three pitchers just to keep from having to go up there again. I drank another glass while Emma finished one of the pitchers. 

I remembered what Janey had said about her problems with alcohol but she looked just fine to me. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03



I went back to the bar and replaced the pitcher and bought two more because it was getting hotter in there and even Janey was coming over more often than she usually does for a drink. 

Janey's visits were more like pit stops at the Indy 500 than they were actual drinking stopovers. But, she was clearly hot and thirsty. 

Emma came by every time she didn't have a partner, which was almost never. But when she did she would make a pitcher disappear. 

I took a little inventory of the empty pitchers that I had in front of me and the total was six, of which I might have finished half of one. 

I went back to the bar and bought three more. 

They played a slow tune. It was one that I recognized from my Fort Campbell days and Janey appeared. We almost never dance together, since I am scary-bad on the dance floor. But this was a chance to hold my gorgeous wife while I shuffled around and no male in their right mind would pass up a chance to feel that beautiful little hard body pressed against them. 

I put my hands together behind her back, just above her butt and pulled her into me. She squashed those huge pillow tits of hers against my chest. I could feel them moving and shifting between us. 

And frankly the hard-on that caused was exerting the kind of pressure on my zipper that is normally only felt at great depths on the ocean floor. 

She put her arms around my neck and rested her lovely head on my chest and we swayed and hugged. 

It was an incredibly sensual moment. Her perfume and a slight smell of her sweat were making me mad with desire and her little moans told me that she was enjoying the interlude too. 

My wife seemed a little drunk but she was not in the league of her friend, who was in the arms of some guy who was rubbing her left butt cheek with one hand while his other seemed to be giving her right tit a massage. 

I got the distinct impression that she had decided to forego her role as event coordinator for the duration of the evening

Emma had her head resting on the guy's shoulder and she had a look of total sexual abandon on her face. 

The music ended and Janey went back to doing what she does. I drifted back to the table and poured myself another. 

I was trying to be casual about the huge lump in my pants but I don't think anybody noticed in the noise and heat. 

I was watching my wife dance, which is one of my favorite past-times. 

The guy she was dancing with was very good looking in a Mediterranean way. He was also a good dancer, not in her league but much better than most of the men out there. 

They danced front to front and then Janey turned and presented her butt to the guy. 

Janey has the biggest roundest buns a woman can have without having an ounce of fat on them. In her present get-up there was nothing covering them except a few microns of silk. 

The guy, in perfect synchronization with the rhythm slapped her hard on one of her butt cheeks. What he did was perfectly appropriate to the dance at that point. Then he did it again, still in seamless agreement with the music. 

I was expecting her to turn around and deck him since she does not like being manhandled. 

Instead she turned toward him and did a little finger shaking, "no-no-no" move that fitted perfectly with what he had just done. She then turned back to rotating her butt in some sort of sensual display and got it slapped twice more, hard. It still fitted the dance. 

She turned toward him this time but rather than seeing anger I saw pure lust written on her face. She put her arms around his neck while holding her body away from him and swayed her tits close to his chest. Then she turned away again. 

He slapped her several times on her essentially bare ass. It was all in time to the music and if it had been on stage it would have looked like it was choreographed. 

She dropped her head like she couldn't hold it up any longer while still rotating her beautiful butt toward the guy. 

He slapped her again. She turned toward him and did the same "no-no-no" move but you could see that she was totally turned on. Her eyes were closed and chest was heaving like she was in the middle of an intense fuck, not a dance. 

She never stopped rotating her hips in front of her partner's crotch. It was in perfect time with the music, but she never actually touched the dude. Then the song ended. 

Without stopping, or even acknowledging the guy further, Janey marched over to me, grabbed me by one arm and dragged me toward the toilets. She didn't say a word but her actions conveyed desperation. 

Before we got to either bathroom, we passed a balcony that was slightly wider than the open door that led to it. 

She is small but very strong and as we were passing the door she grabbed me by both collars and yanked me outside slamming the door and pulling the curtains. 

It was pitch black out there, but since she had ahold of me she had no trouble yanking on my belt, pulling out what she wanted to have, turning and then pushing her magnificent buns against me and inserting it into her. 

The heat was indescribable. She proceeded to hold the balcony railing and push frantically back against me like she wanted every inch inside her. 

She was just whimpering with lust. 

While she did that she began to frantically slap her own butt. I got the idea and took over the task with great pleasure. 

She pushed back like a mad woman and gasped loudly, while I spanked her in a sensuous rhythm, not hard enough to hurt her but plenty hard enough to stimulate her. 

After four or five slaps she came very wetly and loudly, bucking frantically. I did not come simply because the sensuality of the moment was so extreme that all I could think about was how humbly and totally I appreciated the love of this woman. 

Her turning toward me pulled me out of her. She kissed me with a passion that was a little extreme even for her and said, "Thank you! I love you!!" 

That was it. We put ourselves together and walked back to the table holding hands. 

~ 

Janey

Emma was dressed for the competition. There was no other way to put it. 

She had decided to emphasize her beautiful tits. 

I decided to go with my entire arsenal. 

We both knew that our aim was the same; proving who ruled the male population of that event. 

The sound in the ballroom was glorious and I sort of drifted out onto the dance floor without any kind of conscious guidance. 

I was dancing and watching Paul. I always watch Paul no matter what I am doing on the dance floor. 

He was doing his Sir Galahad thing with Emma, getting her a drink and making sure she was attended to. 

She chose to play it coy and didn't just walk out on the floor. But she almost instantly got asked to dance by some geezer who looked faintly like nobility. 

We were both out on the dance floor like we were in the good old days. 

Paul had glasses of a clear drink sitting in front of him and I was getting very hot and thirsty so I drifted over to his table still moving to the music. 

I downed the one he handed me and one more just to get my thirst beaten down. Then I went back out for another session. 

Most of the time that I was out there I was dancing with multiple men simultaneously, trying to give each of them some attention. 

None of them really caught my interest until a super good looking Italian or maybe Greek guy joined the group. 

I more-or-less shifted my dancing strictly to him and the rest drifted off. 

He put himself into his moves and I was able to compensate for his lack of polish. We attracted a lot of other people's attention. That is always my aim when I dance. 

Then they started up a slow tune and I needed Paul to hold me. So I dragged him out on the floor. 

Dancing with him is not a matter of expression, or movement. He never learned to dance and he is way too self-conscious to do anything but shift around from foot to foot. But he pulled me into him and I put my arms around his neck and we had an intimate moment of hugging, which was aided by the feeling of my boobs on his chest, moving around as we shifted. 

It turned me on more than if he had actually been manipulating them and I stared moaning with sexual hunger. 

I looked at Emma and she was dancing with a handsome 50 something. That dude WAS manipulating anything that he could get his hands on and Emma looked like she loved the attention. 

I had noticed that she had been drinking pitchers to my glasses and I could sense that things had not changed much at all since our days in New York. 

The song ended and I stepped back and looked at my husband. We shared the look of simple comradeship that only two married people who truly love each other can share. Then he almost sadly turned and trudged back to where he was stationed watching me. 

I thought to myself, "Time to put on a good show for him". 

The guy who I had danced with before was back. And we started moving vigorously to the music. The sound itself was like swimming in something rather than listening to it and I was really getting into the movement. 

I had turned my back and was giving him and Paul a nice view of my rapidly twitching buns when he slapped me so hard on my right cheek that it stung. 

I was about to turn around and say something to him when he did it again. This time rather than sting it stimulated. 

I have no idea how pain can translate to sexual stimulus and normally I will take the head off of somebody who tries to hurt me but this guy was a master of not quite doing that.

Instead the stinging slaps on my butt were translating into heat a little further down. 

I suddenly got very wet and I began to pant. I turned and in time to the music shook my finger at him. That was meant to be a "naughty-naughty" gesture, not to discourage him. And indeed when I turned back around he did it again, several more times. 

The stimulation of the slaps lit a five-alarm fire in Miss Puss-Puss. I was so turned on I couldn't hold my head up. I was totally aroused and lost in the sensation. 

It was no longer a case of a super sexy dance. I had to get fucked. 

As soon as the song was over I headed for the only person capable of fixing my problem, Paul. 

I was a woman on a mission. I dragged the poor baffled man toward the toilets intending to lock us in a stall while I had my way with him. 

But I saw the door to a small balcony first and threw him out there. 

Normally I care about giving as well as taking. But I was incredibly turned on by what had happened on the dance floor. So I had him inside me and was pushing back on him before he could even think about what to do. 

I showed him what I wanted him to do. After a few more slaps I came like a wild woman totally through my own efforts and in the most selfish fashion possible.

Normally I would be mortified but I knew that this circumstance was something special. 

So rather than trying to satisfy him standing out there on a little balcony I turned and kissed him and thanked him sincerely for helping me out with my problem. 

The man loves me. I know that. And I was planning a sexual extravaganza for him for some time later on. But that little interlude DID prove once and for all that the days of clubbing and random men were far in my rear view mirror. 

That was because I knew I had married the only man I ever wanted inside me.

~ 

Paul

Every time I think that that incredible woman can't surprise me she does something that further proves that she is an infinite garden of sexual delight. 

I didn't even come in her, didn't really want to truth be told. But her indescribably passionate erotic performance had excited me in some abstract way; much more sensual than simply firing it off inside her. 

As I watched her go back to dancing, like we had not just had a wild sexual moment, I marveled at the absolute profundity of her female spirit. 

As far back as I can remember I have always been in awe of Janey's white hot sexuality. It is like living next to an active volcano. You can never tell when it is going to erupt and when it does it is a world shaking event. 

That was true in this case. It was obvious that she had sought me out the moment her own arousal crossed the point of no return.

And when she satisfied herself without involving me I didn't feel like I was providing a cock for her pleasure. It felt like she was making a statement about our absolute bond as husband and wife; that she could trust me to always be there when she needed me that way. 

It was humbling to have her view me in that fashion. It also satisfied some of my insecurities about whether she was indiscriminately sexual or not. 

Even though the guy who had aroused her to that peak was a lot younger and better looking than me, her only thought was to take her business directly to me.

Because we had lost ten minutes I thought it would be a good idea if I started looking around for the other member of the group. That was Emma. 

She had disappeared completely and I was thinking that she had perhaps gone off with somebody, as Janey had warned me she might. 

I asked the bartender if he had seen her. Bartenders always know where the best looking women in the room are. 

He told me that she had gone into the baroque sitting room, off the main ballroom. That room was a quieter place where the high rollers could gather and socialize. 

That room was strictly reserved for the people who had made a large donation that night. In effect it provided the opportunity for the beautiful people to drink and mingle with each other, without riff-raff like me getting in the way. 

Janey was still shaking her booty out on the dance floor. So I wandered over to the door of the room. 

The large gentleman who controlled access wanted to know who I was. When I told him who I was he was impressed. Apparently Janey had made QUITE a contribution that night. 

I also made a donation to his own personal welfare fund, which I tucked into his pocket. He was very appreciative. 

It was much quieter in this room, thickly carpeted with funky Hapsburg décor and extremely civilized. 

There was a group of glitterati standing in a corner of the room talking animatedly. Emma was among them. 

I looked her over like I had never seen her before. Her beauty far outshone the other women in that group. 

Her thick copper hair was done in some sort of fashion model ponytail that emphasized the faultless bone structure of her face. Her stunning green eyes set over those flawless cheek bones shone with intelligence as she talked. 

Her outsized and high riding breasts sat on her tall and elegant frame with a yard of cleavage showing. Her hips were lithe and supple with two small perfectly formed buns. She was constantly turning to touch whoever was talking. 

Janey walked up behind me as I was admiring Emma's beauty. She said, "Down boy, that one is strictly off limits." 

I said, "After the way you just ravaged me I can't even think about another woman". 

She said, "You haven't seen anything yet. Wait until we get home." 

As we approached the group Emma was arguing with one of the men. I heard her say in a teasing fashion, "You men are all alike. You ALL think that all you have to do is just push a few of our buttons and we'll just give it up." 

She was clearly hammered.

The man she was arguing with said, "I didn't say that. What I said was that no woman can be subjected to a man's really skillful foreplay without wanting to get fucked". 

Emma laughed out loud and said, "You could stimulate me for as long as you want and I would never give it up to you. That's because I don't have any feelings for you. In fact I think that you are an asshole for even suggesting it" 

Janey nodded in agreement, but I could see that Emma was digging herself into a hole. 

The man said, "That's just you talking. I guarantee that if I had fifteen minutes of free access to your body, you would be BEGGING me to fuck you". 

Emma had clearly had too much to drink because instead of saying, "In your wildest dreams my man!" and walking away, she said, "Not a CHANCE!" and stood there laughing. 

That pissed the guy off. He said heatedly, "Easy to talk, why don't you prove it!" 

Emma looked at him like he had just crawled out from under a rock and said, "This is a stupid discussion. I am not going to just give you carte blanche!! I don't even know you!!" 

She sounded really irritated at the mere thought. 

The man said, "So what you are saying is that you are afraid that you won't be able to stop yourself if I was allowed to sex you up?" 

She said, "Of COURSE I could, any woman could! I" 

He said, "So I'll make you a deal. If you let me just kiss you and play with your boobs for five minutes and then you tell me to stop you win and I am out a thousand Euros." 

Janey was nodding enthusiastically, like she wanted Emma to defend the honor of all of the women in the group. 

I could see that the guy's logic was leading down a very slippery slope. But then again, I wasn't drunk, or totally pissed off. 

So instead of telling the guy to go fuck himself Emma said, "You've got yourself a deal my friend!!" 

The guy looked like he expected that to happen. My little voice nodded and said, "He's done this before". It then added, "Emma's a big girl. She can make her own mistakes." 

Emma's picking up the gauntlet led to a discussion about where and how. The final agreement was that we would adjourn to a small library that was off of the main room. 

The door was locked but Emma as the organizer had a master key. 

It was a classic paneled library, just like you would find in any large European house. There were nice reading chairs and a couple of leather couches, the walls were thickly layered in oak and mahogany. There were no windows and the only door ensured our privacy. 

Emma was laughing as she opened the door. She said, "This won't take long". 

The whole situation was beginning to get the look and feel of a duel. The guy had one of his friends along as a "second" and Janey and I were there as Emma's witnesses. 

As we walked into the room I was thinking. "GREAT! All we need NOW is pistols at dawn". 

The room was tastefully decorated with classic oil paintings of nameless nobility and it had shelf upon shelf of books. 

Because of the floor to ceiling bookshelves the place appeared to be soundproofed. That seemed like a functional feature rather than a décor item, designed to insulate the reader from the outside world. 

We locked the door to ensure that there would be no unwanted intrusions. The agreement was that I would hold the watch and call-out the time when they reached the five minute mark. 

They would just kiss and he would play with her boobs for the first five minutes and any progress beyond that point would take place only if Emma permitted it. 

To make sure that I wasn't diddling the time, the guy's second would keep an eye on my Rolex, which I was holding as the stopwatch. Janey would be responsible for ensuring that the rules of engagement were followed. 

Before they started the man suggested that we all have a drink, just to get to know each other. My inner voice told me, "He's just doing that so he can have more time to work on her." 

In retrospect, I should have thought of another reason. 

The guy's second went back out of the room and got us all drinks. 

The drink interlude took a little time and during the delay the guy was sitting next to Emma idly stroking her shoulders. Emma didn't seem to notice. 

The guy who went out for the drinks knocked and I let him back in. He carefully handed each drink out as if he was trying to keep track of who got what. 

We sat and drank for a minute without anybody saying a word. 

The guy had progressed from indolently stroking Emma's shoulders, to running the back of his hand up and down her bare arm. She took several sips of her drink. The silence was getting uncomfortable. 




A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03



Finally Emma said, "Okay, let's get this over with." She sounded like she was having buyer's remorse. 

I said, "You know you don't have to do this. You can walk away right now." 

She pounded the last elements of her drink and said with determination, like she had just decided something, "I can handle myself" and she nodded in the direction of her opponent. 

My little voice shook its head in disgust and said, "She wouldn't even consider this dare if she was sober". 

I told her that. 

She looked pissed off and said, "Are you telling me that you don't think I can say control myself with this guy?" 

That gave me a choice of bad answers so I just raised my eyebrows and sat back holding the watch. 

Janey smacked me and said, "Start the watch. This is all going to be over in five minutes".

The two of them were arranged on the couch next to each other. Emma was sitting up straight, facing forward; knees locked primly together, hands on knees. The guy was turned sideways facing her. 

He leaned slowly toward her and she turned her face to him expecting to be kissed passionately. Instead he just touched his lips to her neck, right at the pulse point. 

It was not so much a kiss as a light connection with the skin of her neck. A forest of goose bumps instantly shot down her neck and a flush appeared 

She gasped in surprised and her eyes flew open. She was looking fixedly at him nibbling on her upper shoulders from about two inches away. 

Her eyes closed again and she sighed.

He stopped his nibbling on her neck and moved up to lightly nibble on her lower lip. He wasn't kissing her. It was like we was massaging her lips with his. 

She made a little sound of irritation and opened her eyes again. She looked hesitant. 

He then proceeded to work his way to the corner of her mouth softly chewing on her lips. She was starting to breathe faster than normal and her eyes flew open again. 

I could see something in them that was not there earlier, rising interest. 

He put his lips gently on hers in a real kiss. Her eyes closed with satisfaction. I looked at the watch one minute had passed. 

They kissed like regular lovers for a short time. He was working on her slowly opening lips with his. Another minute passed like that. 

Then he pushed forward hard and you could see that his tongue was knocking on her door, licking her teeth. 

She gave a small moan and then slowly and inexorably her jaw relaxed. They engaged in a frantic tongue swapping kiss as her breathing increased to a point where it was clearly audible. She was making regular little "moaning" noises. Two minutes had passed. 

While they were kissing he dropped his hand to her huge left tit. The boob was nearly naked thanks to the deep diving cut of the dress. 

He gave her bare skin a caress and then the whole thing a squeeze. 

Rather than telling him to stop she gave a quiet groan and opened her eyes. She was now looking at him with a very hot expression as they kissed. 

I thought, "She isn't going to make it?" 

He continued to caress the outsized swell of her breast. The squeezes, strokes and manipulations got much more forceful. He was now rubbing his thumb persuasively over the area where her nipple lay, just at the point where the deep cut of her dress stopped and her skin began. 

You could see both nipples radically increase in size. She moaned louder. Three minutes had passed.

He dropped his hand to the hem of her dress. He pushed it up so that her panties showed in the delta between her tightly closed legs. 

He began to work his hand into that delta. I threw the "pussy interference" flag. That wasn't supposed to happen until I said it was time.

Emma just looked at me dazed. She should have stopped him but instead her legs began to relax, very gradually; almost as if it were against her will, until they had opened far enough that two fingers of his hand were resting directly on her pussy over her panties. 

He began to rub her pussy while kissing her passionately. 

She gave a loud groan that might have been audible in the next room, even with the soundproofing. 

Then she gently and inexorably began to spread her legs as far as possible giving him full access. 

My little voice shook his head and observed, "Point of no return". 

In my experience, once a woman opens her legs like that there is no going back. 

I looked at Janey. She was watching the proceedings with sexual hunger written on her every aspect. 

Emma in the meantime was beginning to moan loudly as the guy continued to work on her still fully clothed pussy. You could see his fingers plunged in and out of her slit over her dripping panties. 

She was now panting loudly and emitting sharp cries. 

Then five minutes arrived. I called, "TIME's UP". 

Emma was so lost in her own arousal that she didn't even notice. 

Janey was almost as oblivious. I could hear her panting next to me. 

The GUY heard me because he gave me a sly look raised his hand, and proceeded to dramatically dip it down inside the front of Emma's panties. 

Then I could see his fingers on her pussy underneath them. 

He buried two fingers directly in her. She yelled out a loud, "Ahhhh!!" and started bucking against his hand. 

I expected her to come any second and end this farce. But the guy was too smart for that. He quickly withdrew his hand. 

As he withdrew his hand Emma was left bucking the air. She shouted an annoyed "Ohhhhh!" 

He began to unzip Emma's dress. She leaned forward passively so he could slip it over her shoulders and down to her waist. 

Her big tits were on display. She was not wearing a bra. 

Her magnificent bare boobs quivered like mounds of Jell-O as she leaned back. I had the momentary thought, "So they ARE real after all!?"

They were big and firm with long red nipples jutting prominently from the large pink aureoles. I found myself getting very erect at that sight. 

Janey had slipped her hand down into her lap and was pressing on things down there. Six minutes had passed. 

The guy lowered his head and teased a nipple with his teeth. She cried out. He then licked and pulled at the nipple. She gasped loudly and hissed with passion. He pulled one back about an inch with his teeth. She shouted with pure lust, "Ahhhh!" 

He said, "You can make the torture stop. Just tell me you want me to fuck you." 

She shook her head "no". I don't think she had any words at that point. Seven minutes had passed.

He said, "Slide up". She shifted her hips up and he slid her dress and soaked panties down over her long strong legs, to puddle on the floor. 

She was only wearing high heels and white thigh-high nylons now. 

My little friend in my pants was banging on my zipper demanding to be let out. 

Janey was actually massaging her nether parts. 

The guy moved between Emma's legs and began to nip and lick in the area above her shaven pussy, not touching her lips below. 

She was moaning loudly and constantly, trying to hump his chin as he worked over that space. 

He sat back and looked into her lust stoned eyes and said, "No you don't, you've got to say it first!" 

She let out a loud cry of sheer frustrated anguish.

He moved lower and just lightly touched her clit with his tongue. She cried out and began to tremble in the beginnings of an orgasm. 

But he pulled completely away and she let out a long low moan of increasing exasperation. 

He said mildly, "Just say it. Just say you want me to fuck you." 

She looked at him with absolute lust in her eyes but shook her head "no". 

He went back to delicately tracing the lips of her pussy with his tongue. She cried loudly and humped her hips wildly. But he was giving her nothing to hump against. 

Then he imperceptibly touched her clit again. She shouted, "Oh God!!" and collapsed back holding onto the couch with white knuckled fingers. 

Those were the first words I had heard her say since the challenge began. 

Ten minutes had passed.

Her boobs were rising and falling in gasps. Her breathing could be heard all over the room. She was moaning loudly and constantly. The guy's friend was actually sitting on a chair in the corner with his dick out whacking himself. 

The level of sexual tension was off the end of the scale. And, unless all of us watching that incredible display had joined the undead, every other person, me included, was looking for somebody, ANYBODY, to help them take the edge off. 

I could NOW see exactly how Emma's behavior with men could lead Janey into situations where she would end up in some stranger's bed. 

The guy moved up between Emma's legs to mount her, except he was still fully clothed. 

She was lying flat on the couch naked except for her thigh high lace nylons and heels, passionately gripping the cushions in both outstretched hands. 

The smell of her arousal filled the room. It was devastatingly erotic.

He kissed her and she kissed back with extreme passion, making little grunts as she did it. It sounded like somebody was poking her in the stomach. 

That was when I noticed that the guy had taken out his cock and was indeed actually literally poking her in the stomach. 

He was humping into the wide area between her hips and above her pussy, in the general area of her belly button. 

The sensation of a cock pushing into her lower belly, even if it wasn't actually inside her, set off a series of wild cries from Emma. Twelve minutes had passed.

She let out a loud whimper of submission and said something to him as he kissed her and continued to hump his cock along her lower belly. 

He drew back and said, "What was that? What did you say??" 

She said something inaudible while sounding like she was choking to death. 

He said, "I'm sorry but I didn't hear you. You're going to have to say that a lot louder." 

She said something louder but still not audible. He said, "I still can't hear you". 

Finally I heard her say, in a maddened voce that was loud enough for everybody to hear, "Fuck me, you have to fuck me!!" 

He said, "Does that mean I win?" 

She said hysterically, "JUST fuck meeee!!" 

He stood up leaving Emma on the couch, writhing in the throes of desperation. 

The guy's friend had already come and was more-or-less draped in his chair. 

Janey was watching intently. My little fellow was telling me that I had better put him inside my wife very soon or he was going to go off with or without her. 

The man slowly dropped all of his clothes on the floor and got between Emma's legs. 

She was still lying on her back on the couch writhing. 

He put himself against her entrance. She threw her arms around his shoulders and shoved her widely spread legs into the air. 

Then he very slowly pushed into her, not very far. 

She yelled, "Ahhhh" and tried to hump him the rest of the way in. 

But he stayed only very slightly into her entrance. She said, "You have to fuck me now! You have to fuck me!" 

He said, "I'm not sure" and pulled it out. The guy obviously liked the feeling he got torturing unsuspecting females.

Emma screamed. She just shrieked, "Fuck me. I'll do ANYTHING. Just fuck me". 

The guy said, "Do you give up. I win?" 

Emma screamed, "Yesss just fuck me!" 

The guy got on top of her. She inserted him, threw her arms around his shoulders like she was not intending to let go and wrapped her legs around his ass to hold him there. 

The two of them fucked wildly for about ten seconds. Then the intensive stimulation Emma had been getting for the past twenty minutes translated itself into the mother of all orgasms. 

She threw her head back, let out a continuous wailing scream from a mouth that was constricted into the widest "O" possible and writhed wildly. 

Then she started the full body shaking. Her hands turned to claws and raked the guys back. 

He continued to pound her and she almost immediately came again. That went on for minutes, with her coming violently every few seconds. 

I wasn't able to keep a count of the number of Emma's orgasms. That was because Janey had mounted me face to face on the chair. 

She had pulled her dress up and pushed her thong aside, popped me in and was humping me like a mad woman. 

The feeling of her aroused pussy was absurd, the smell intoxicating and frankly I didn't care where I was sitting, all I could think about was the intense sexual pleasure that I was getting from Janey's ministrations. 

After what we had just witnessed we were not in a mood for a long lingering fuck. We both came practically together in about 30 seconds. 

Janey was making loud wails in counterpoint to Emma's continuing wild cries and throwing herself around in my arms. 

I was concentrating on not falling out of the leather bound side chair that we were sitting on. In the meantime I came as thunderously as the Charge of the Light Brigade. 

It was all-in-all the most incredible orgasm I had ever experienced and I don't think Janey was far behind in that category, since she literally slumped in my arms as she does when she passes out momentarily from the excitement of the experience. 

Except we were sitting with her ass fully exposed and my cock sunk to the hilt in her, right in the middle of an expensive library in a 19th Century Vienna palace.

We both recovered with her sitting astride me and with me still rock hard inside her. 

She looked a little shamefaced and said, "Sorry but I had to do that". 

I said, "You bet you did, or I was going to be guilty of spousal rape." 

She smacked me and slowly withdrew. I slid out of her. It was an exquisite feeling to move down her white hot love canal and into the cold open air. 

Old Lucifer still looked like the Empire State Building, but I folded him over and made him decent. 

The guy and Emma were now trying it doggy style with her kneeling on the floor. She was making loud animalistic grunts. Slapping the couch over-and-over with an open palm and thrusting her firm little round butt back at him as hard as she could. 

I wasn't honestly sure which hole he had it in. The guy's friend had left the room if not the building. 

We slipped furtively through the door of the privacy room and back out into the main room. 

The people out there were still mingling. The contrast between what was going on out there and what was transpiring in the library was obscene in its absolute difference. 

It seemed like an eternity since we had gone in there for the bet but it was only a half an hour. 

I locked the door to the library behind me. I had no idea when those two were coming out. But, we were leaving.

Before we left however, I had a question to ask the bartender. 

There was a small well-stocked bar in that room, which the beautiful people could access to restock their drinks without having to go out into the craziness of the main ballroom. 

The guy working behind it looked sleazy enough. I approached him and slid three 100 Euro notes over the bar under my hand. 

He could just see the denomination. I definitely had his interest. I made sure of that. 

I said in a conspiratorial tone, "I just picked up that total hottie over there" and nodded toward Janey. He glanced over at her and his eyes opened wide with approval. He looked like a big rat that had just spotted some choice camembert. 

I said with a wink, "Have you got something to make her even hotter." 

The guy didn't even blink, "He said I have some Molly that is almost pure X". 

I said, "Brilliant! Ecstasy ought to loosen her up!!" 

He looked at the 300 Euros. I looked at him. He reached under the bar and slid a foil package across to me. I let go of the 300 and he slid it into his pocket. 

I said as casually as possible, "Will that work like the stuff you sold my buddy for the woman in the library over there?" and nodded back toward the room that Emma was in. 

He looked at Janey standing there and laughed like an accomplice and said, "Absolutely! You are going to own that hot bitch's pussy just like the guy in there!" 

I laughed and said "Thanks Doc", while adding both him and the guy who was still banging Emma to my special little list. 

I walked over to Janey and she said, "What was that all about?" 

I unwrapped my hand and surreptitiously showed her the little foil packet as we were exiting the room. 

She looked at me puzzled and said, "What's that?" 

I said, "It is high grade powdered Ecstasy." 

She said, "What's that?" Like she couldn't connect the word with the thing I was holding in my hand. 

I said, "It's a designer drug that will loosen every inhibition that you own and make you fuck all night. I suspected that the second guy put something in Emma's drink. Here it is." 

Janey looked horrified and said, "Do you mean he drugged her?" 

As I sprinkled the contents of the package on the floor of the entrance hall I said, "It's too late now but Miss Emma is going to hate herself in more ways than one in the morning". 

Now let's get out of this place. 

~

Janey

That was simply the most incredible thing I had ever seen, I was feeling sorry for Emma, being suckered like that. But on the other hand she had been given loads of opportunity to say "no" and instead she had said "yes" every step of the way. 

The person who had seduced her into her state of total slutty abandon was a master of his craft, able to arouse her at the right speed without setting off any alarms that would tell her that she was getting way past the point of no return. 

I was not sure that I could have resisted that kind of subtle seductive stimulation myself. Of course I would have never been in the situation, because nobody touches me in those places except my husband. 

Then I couldn't express the horror and revulsion I felt when Paul told me about the drug. 

I am probably a little naïve when it comes to the evil that lurks in the hearts of men. My daddy insulated me from that in my early life and I have been in a safe place with the man I love since then. 

Fifteen years ago I would have insisted on staying to pick up the pieces. But I know now that it was that exact same attitude that landed me in bed with a number of people I would just as soon forget. 

The concept of being drugged into the kind of animal behavior that I had just witnessed was frightening beyond belief. 

I knew in my heart that I had moved so far past Emma's foolish and shallow lifestyle that my clubbing days were like a bad dream. The kind of dream that when you wake up in the morning and want to forget. 

I thanked every deity I could think of that Paul and I had found each other and I promised to myself that I would never take a minute of our life together for granted. 

Paul had the Maybach waiting for us at curbside. This evening had taken a considerable toll on my psyche and all I wanted to do was get away from the noise and frenzy of the Palace Ferstel. 

It was chilly in the car and Prince Charming took off his sport coat and put it over my shoulders as we motored silently past the Burggarten to the Goethegasse and back to the Sacher. 

Our love has different moods and tonight's was peaceful well-being. I don't know what he was thinking but I was lost in the simple comfort of being with the only man I have ever truly loved, knowing that he loved me equally. 

We had had sex twice tonight and my hunger for him never completely goes away. But this was a time of bonding, where my soul seemed to be drawing strength from the proximity to him. 

I was actually thinking about the time in the distant future when I will be an old lady and Paul will be an old man. I don't think that the fires will ever die down for us. 

But the one thing I know for certain is that the cozy little bubble of togetherness that we share and live in will only strengthen and grow as time goes by.