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Archive for October, 2013

We ate for a while in silence. I picked at my food, thinking it was a good thing they didn’t know the real truth – that Stefan didn’t even want me as much as I wanted him. Ha. I laughed to myself. That was the irony of it. But even if it was only me that was so obsessed, even if it was all a delusion, a dream, I wanted it anyway. I wanted it for as long as it lasted, which I hoped would be for a very long time. That was the truth; my truth. Whatever the cost, I didn’t want it to end. I just wanted to keep disappearing down that rabbit hole of bliss and stay there forever.

“So tell us about this Stefan,” my mother said, “handsome he must be, but what does he do for a living? Was it Stefan who bought you the fancy clothes?”

“I really don’t know exactly what he does, but he works for a man named Albert Giovanni who is the head of a big company called Giovanni International.”

“What does this Giovanni International do Rachel?” my father asked.

“As far as I know, they sell heavy machinery all over Europe and the Middle East.”

There was a slight lull in the conversation until my mother said, sweetly but firmly, “Look Rachel, why don’t you just get on a plane and go back to Amsterdam and have a talk with Jan. Really sweetheart, you owe it to your son.”

When I didn’t say anything my father added, “At least you can give it a try.  Jan might just surprise you and understand. But whatever happens, your mother is right; you owe it to your son. Don’t abandon your child for some pleasure now that isn’t going to last very long. That’s what you should be thinking about.”

After that, we didn’t speak for a while. We were all digesting what had just gone down.

My father wanted to go for a little walk after dinner and I was relieved because I couldn’t bear to talk about it anymore. It was a lovely balmy evening and we walked down the Promenade des Anglais. It reminded me of summer vacations when I was a kid.

We felt close together, but also sad that so many of the things we had shared were past and would never come again. I had this sudden intuition about how it must feel to grow old and see the world you have known and loved fade away. Our lives were passing away so quickly. In a flash we are gone with all our happiness and all our troubles too. It made my own problems seem small and insignificant. The stars were shining down upon us, the same stars that were there when we came into this world and would still be there when we left. What did it matter if I laughed or cried? I was only one more flare in the night, shining brightly for a split second in time. It was the same for my parents. And I had to face it, one day all too soon they too would be passing away. I missed them so much even though they were right there, walking on either side of me. They were my parents, my very own special parents and I would never have any others. They had wedded and bedded and out of that mysterious union, I had emerged with all my hopes and dreams. And they had tried to give me a direction as best they could. Whether they had succeeded or failed didn’t really matter at all. We might have quarreled in the past, we might have misunderstood each other at times, but they loved me and I loved them. It was as simple as that.

I stopped and hugged them both, one after the other. They didn’t say anything, but I knew they felt the same.

_____

   The next day I put my parents on their plane to Israel.

They left saying, “Now be a good girl Rachel and think about what you are doing! Why don’t you just go home to your son?”

It was such reasonable advice. Hearing them talk made everything seem so simple. I was a mother and had a responsibility to my own child. But as soon as I walked out of the airport’s glass doors into the sunshine of that splendid Nice morning, I felt that jolt – that marvelous zap of energy running through my body. Wow! And yes, it was that jolt, that zap that sent me on this adventure in the first place. It was such an overpowering sensation and to say it was just a physical thing would have been to underestimate what was going on with me. I was possessed, obsessed, enchained, entranced by an energy I didn’t understand. And it didn’t have anything to do with the logical, reasonable world my parents lived in and talked about. I had run off in pursuit of something magical. Some might say I just wanted to get my kicks, but whatever it was, the truth was, I wanted more.

Maybe I should go home and maybe I would, but not just yet!

Feeling that jolt of energy course through my body made me remember the day I met Stefan and I shivered with pleasure.  It was an early summer day at Zandvoort beach; I was there, enjoying the sun and sea with little Daniel. We’d been there all afternoon and it was early evening – most people were gone or leaving the beach. The sun was sinking slowly in the Western sky. I remembered how cool and peaceful it was and how I was just lounging around enjoying the tranquility and the evening air while Daniel played close by in the sand. All of a sudden this blond Adonis came out of nowhere and asked me if I had a light. I hadn’t noticed him before that moment, but apparently he must have been lounging somewhere nearby because he had seen me. (I later found out that he had been sitting moodily on the beach, feeling low because he had just split again from his Dutch wife Monique and their two small daughters – Linda and Sabine. They had been having this on and off relationship for quite a few years until finally Monique had asked for a separation. She was fed up with his uncommunicative ways and the fact that he was away so much on business because of Albert. But obviously at the time, I didn’t know any of this.)

A couple of young Indians were making food on a small grill not far from where I was sitting and one of them ran over and asked us if we would like to join them. Daniel jumped up and said “yeah!” because he was hungry and so it all happened so naturally. We laughed and joined the Indians and got to talking as we munched on their lovely food. (The Indians thought we were a couple and laughed heartily when we said we didn’t know each other.)

So truly it was as if the gods had arranged our meeting (and of course they had). I found it easy being with him in the cool evening air – and I liked his quiet ways. From the very first moment, I felt as if we were being drawn to each other by this powerful magnetic force and there was nothing we could do about it. I remembered I couldn’t take my eyes off this blond Adonis – and he kept looking at me too. We stayed until late in the evening; and by then it was obvious we would meet again.

_____

When I got back to our hotel suite, Stefan was sitting on the armchair with his feet up on the window sill. He was talking on the phone. All I could think of was how good he looked, how inviting, how sexy. He had on tight-fitting underwear which revealed his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He had just taken a shower and his wet blond hair was combed straight back off his face. He looked around at me and motioned me to be quiet.

“Happy Birthday little Linda,” he was saying into the phone in a special voice I’d never heard him use before. “How old are you now??… Five years old! Did you get the present Daddy sent you?”

My mood of sex and adventure vanished when I realized who he was talking to – his youngest daughter Linda. His wife and two daughters were still living in Amsterdam. And today was the little one’s birthday. Funny, but up until that moment I hadn’t really thought of Stefan as being a father (though of course I knew he was) or of him being able to speak to a child in that kind of warm friendly Daddy voice.

I felt vain and stupid hearing him talk to his little daughter like that. Maybe deep down inside, he scorned me because I’d run off with him and left my own son. Maybe he thought I was a pushover, a woman of no character, with only a hot cunt to speak for me. Mentally I began packing my suitcase to catch the next plane back to Amsterdam. My parents said I should go back, Stefan must be thinking the same thing. What was there left for me to do? I really did miss my son.

I went to the bedroom and sat down on the bed while Stefan chatted and laughed with his daughter.

But still, I told myself, this was the first time I’d ever been away from my son and I hadn’t been gone very long. Didn’t I have a right to a little vacation? But who was I kidding? This wasn’t exactly a vacation – this was an uprising – a full-scale rebellion! Looking back, I could honestly say I’d tried; I really had, for years. I’d tried to convince myself that my life with Jan was great. But it just didn’t wash. It wasn’t enough. I hadn’t taken care of me. I hadn’t nurtured the woman I was. In fact it had gotten so bad that I no longer even knew who I was. Oh yes, I was a mother and a wife, but it all seemed so tame after the great hopes and dreams of my younger years. Back then I thought I was going somewhere, thought I was going to do something, be someone, achieve something that mattered. And now all I had was the crushing frustration of a life I had freely chosen with a man who turned out to be a real drag. And I hadn’t wanted to admit it, at least not until I met Stefan.

Stefan came to me in the bedroom after he said goodbye to his daughter. I guess I looked depressed because he sat down and put his arm around me and said, “Was seeing your mother and father that bad?”

“Oh no… not really,” I mumbled.

“Well then, what is it?”

“It was just… just hearing you talk to Linda like that…”

“Oh come on Rachel, you knew from the beginning that I have two small daughters. They are very dear to me and I am sorry their mother and I are not together to take care of them. You know that.”

“Stefan, do you think I should go back to Amsterdam?”

“You should do whatever you have to do – but not right now!” he said and laughed. “How did we get on this subject anyway?” He pushed me playfully back on the bed. He was determined to make me forget. It wasn’t hard to do. He kissed me and I couldn’t resist him. There was just something about him, something…

He undressed me expertly and then did what he always did. He took off his underwear and then positioned himself, completely naked, over me with his arms outstretched as if he was about to do push-ups. He surveyed my waiting body and then lowered his firm suntanned body slowly down upon me, touching me gently as I closed my eyes in a swoon. He knew I liked it like that, liked it when he teased me with the touch of his exquisite body until I was wet, wet, wet. And then, when he knew I was ready, he entered me slowly and lay very still on top of me, letting me feel his manhood. And when I sighed that special sigh of intense delight, which he knew so well, he pressed himself deeper into me. I’d never been with a man who fucked like he did. It was always the same – and even if it was missionary through and through, he had a very special talent for it. A very special way of moving slowly in and out of me, which never failed to light my fire. And even though he made the same moves every time, it always worked. Because there was just something about the trancelike way he moved his beautiful body which always turned me on. Something about the slow, rhythmical movements he made that I loved. And then he’d pick up speed and move slightly faster – and then faster. And I loved it even more. Loved the way his slow deliberation would always lead to that special moment when I felt the thrill of his hard body gaining speed and momentum. Then nothing could deter him. And he would keep his eyes closed and continue to breathe ever so quietly even as his excitement mounted. Then it was all higher, higher, higher and deeper, deeper, deeper – into that pool of intense ecstasy where I could surrender completely – to his rhythm, his guidance, and to the energy that enveloped us. He did not rush, he never did. Nor did he speak as some men do or alter his rhythm or the flow of it. The strength of his body and his arm muscles allowed him to flow onward until we met and found each other in the passion and power of being together and coming together.

Aaahhh… the incredible sweetness of him. Of us.

Afterwards my blond Adonis propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me. His face was open and suddenly vulnerable. He flicked some strands of hair away from my face.

“You know I never met a woman like you before…”

I did not reply but waited, quite sure he was about to say something important, something I desperately wanted to hear, something I thought I’d never hear him say.

“Rachel, I just want you to know,” he said softly, slowly, “… that no matter what happens… I really do…”

There was a knock on the door.

We both lay very still. Damn! I hoped whoever it was would go away. Who could it be anyway? No one ever came to our hotel. But the knocking went on.

“Open up Stefan, hurry up! It’s important. Come one. It’s me, Joey.”

The banging continued.

“Merde!” Stefan drew away from me.

“I’m coming Joey, hold on!” he shouted back.

He put on his underwear.

“Rachel, go out to the bathroom and get dressed. I forgot to tell you we’re going to a party at Albert’s house on Cap Ferrat today. So dress up nice.”

I grabbed my robe and rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Damn.

I pressed myself against the door to hear what was going on. Two men entered the suite. They were speaking French and they were in a hurry. I turned the water on in the sink. I didn’t want Stefan to think I was listening. They were talking so fast I didn’t understand much, but I did understand when Stefan said, “Joey, no, not again. Not another car bomb!”

The man called Joey replied, “We just got word.”

“Merde,” said Stefan, “does Albert know about this?”

“Yes, and he’s not happy at all. It’s making our operations very difficult.”

“Merde,” I heard Stefan say again.

I didn’t dare listen to more.

I wondered what was going on. It sounded serious, dangerous, risky… But I didn’t dare ask. Stefan never talked to me about what kind of business they were in (but then again, Stefan never talked to me about anything). And it seemed to be understood that as far as business matters were concerned, I was to be kept completely out of it, whatever it was. Was it chivalry on Stefan’s part? Or was it just the man/woman thing in this part of the world? I was curious to know more and knew I should care more, but the truth was I didn’t. The truth was I felt like a million. I felt like a fool. I felt enchanted, entranced, insane. I felt wonderful, wild, happy. My life was a mess and my Adonis was about to tell me that he loved me. I was sure; positive! So I wondered – was this it? Was this true love? He was about to say it, I knew it. I knew it. I knew he loved me. And regardless, the lovemaking was divine. I slid down onto the cool tile bathroom floor as the thoughts whirled round and round in my head.

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When I woke up the next morning, Stefan was already out in the bathroom shaving. He came out smiling and said, “Come on Rachel, hurry up and get dressed. I am going to take you sailing.”

No reference to the past night. He was just like he always was, cool, calm, and tightly closed upon himself. Not a trace of emotion on his beautiful face. My beloved Adonis went back to the bathroom, his face only half shaved, the other half still white with shaving cream. If I didn’t get out of bed right away and start dressing, I’d have to make a scene and leave him. But his lovemaking and the events of the night before had confused me. I had to wait and see. And besides, I’d had never been sailing before. I got up and got dressed.

Stefan and I grabbed a taxi at the Place Massena and drove out along the coast on the Lower Corniche. The day was warm and sunny. We got off at Villefranche, a fantastic bay and harbor which I immediately fell in love with. We walked down to the quays and sat at an outdoor café and had coffee and croissants. Stefan pointed across the water and told me that all the rich people lived over there on Cap Ferrat. I could see the hanging gardens and beautiful houses. Stefan reminded me that Albert had a house on Cap Ferrat too.

We spent the day sailing on a sea of blue glass.

But underneath the surface of amazing calm, I was volcano of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I simply couldn’t figure out what the deal was with Stefan and Albert. Here I was, Stefan’s girlfriend of the moment, and Stefan had just let Albert, his great hero and mentor, sleep with me, his woman. He even mentioned right before it happened that Albert had slept with other women he’d been with. What was with him? Didn’t it bother him? And what about me? Didn’t it bother me? Even though I vaguely thought it should, when I thought about the incredible night I just had with Albert, I realized there was no easy answer to that question either. Simply because making love with Albert had been such an extraordinary experience. Up until that night, I’d thought sex with Stefan was the best thing I’d ever experienced. But it turned out that sex with Albert was even better. It was simply out of this world. Way beyond anything I’d ever experienced before. The man had awakened this incredible tide of liquid desire in me that I didn’t even know existed. And the experience had been so powerful that it overshadowed everything else. So honestly no, the fact that Stefan had shared me with Albert didn’t bother me either!

All I knew for sure was that just the thought of how deeply Albert had touched me made me tremble all over.  And I couldn’t help but wonder how Albert felt about our encounter too. Was I just one more woman in a long line of women to him or had he felt the power of our coming together the way I did? There was just something about it, something about the intensity of our meeting that had blown me away.

So there I was, confused maybe, but feeling so very, very alive! Wondering what would happen next. But not much did… at least not for the next few days. In fact, the following days passed quietly enough. Stefan and I slept late and went down to the beach. We didn’t see Albert. Sometimes Stefan left me alone on the beach for a few hours to do some business, which I didn’t mind at all. In fact I liked lying on the beach all alone, savoring the feeling of liquid desire in my loins. Stefan and I never talked about Albert either or about the night I’d spent with him or about anything that was emotionally difficult. Nor did we talk about the future or what would happen to us. We took long walks in Nice, along the Promenade Des Anglais, looking at all the big hotels and the crowds on the beach. We explored the Old Town which seemed vaguely Italian and we ate the famous bouillabaisse there.

Then one day, out of the blue, my parents called and said they were coming to Nice, the very next day. I was so surprised. Of course they knew I was in Nice, but I didn’t in my wildest dreams expect to see them there. But they said they were on their way from New York to Israel to meet some friends and decided to stop over in Nice for a day to see me.

So the next evening Jerry and Isabel arrived and I discovered that despite the fact that my life was in turmoil, I was really looking forward to seeing them. Waiting at the airport, I made up my mind that I was going to try to be honest with them about what was going on in my life. I just had the feeling that if I had the nerve to tell them the truth, my mother in particular would understand me. I guess I felt this way because my mother was a very elegant lady who always seemed to know more than I expected. She’d been married once before she met my father and sometimes made references to a past that didn’t sound exactly typical. Her flair, her manner, her way of dressing spoke discreetly of a worldliness which the rest of us didn’t possess. She was very different from my father who was just a regular hard-working guy with a kind heart who was getting more and more sentimental with age. I was his only child so he really had a soft spot for me. I also had an older, half-sister, Marlene who was eight years older than I and was my mother’s daughter from her first marriage. I never got to know Marlene that well because she was so much older than I was. And besides, we were as different as day and night. Unlike me, she’d never really tested her limits or been a wild child, but rather followed the straight and narrow path. When she graduated from college, she married a doctor, and settled down. She lived on Long Island with her husband and two children and once in a while sent me emails with pictures of her well-dressed family.

I saw my parents coming through into the arrival hall. My father looked older and my mother looked tired, but when they saw me, they brightened and came rushing forward.

“Rachel! Why Rachel darling, don’t you look beautiful! How are you?” They both said, kissing and hugging me. My mother was looking at the elegant white suit I had on. Her right eyebrow arched ever so slightly as if to say – this is a change!

When we got to their hotel room, my mother went to the bathroom to freshen up. My father stretched and yawned and then put his arms around me, his sentimental side showing its head. There were tiny tears in his beady brown eyes. But they still sparkled like they used to do when I was little and had been particularly naughty.

“Oh Rachel, it’s so good to see you. Am I going to hear about one of your adventures again? Aren’t you a mother now with a beautiful son?” He sighed, let go of me and sat down tiredly in the big armchair. Then he smiled. “But you know I could never get angry with you, could I?  All I can ever see is the mischievous, little green-eyed girl you once were. I guess you will always be my little girl. After all, how many daughters do I have? Ah Rachel… I like to think you take after me!”

My mother came out of the bathroom and when she saw the tears in my father’s eyes, she said gently, “Remember Jerry, we promised each other not to get upset. Now go in and freshen up so we can go down and have dinner. I’m famished.”

My father disappeared into the bathroom.

“Gee Mom,” I sighed, “you look great, you always do. What’s your secret?”

“You know I only wish we had a few days to talk, really talk.” My mother looked at me. “I’ve experienced things I’ve never told you about and now that you’re 35, you’re old enough to understand.”

Then she examined the white suit I was wearing and added, “What a stunning suit this is… I’ve never seen you wear anything like this before. Are you really here in Nice all by yourself?”

“What do you think?”

“I figured as much,” she said and signed. “I only hope that whatever you have to tell us will not weigh too heavily upon your father. He’s not as strong as he used to be.”

“I really don’t want to upset him or you either, but I really do want to talk.”

My father heard my last remark as he came out of the bathroom.

“Talk? Of course we’re going to talk. I want to hear exactly what’s going on. Do you think I came all the way to Nice just to look at the beach? Now let’s go down and eat and you can tell us everything.”

As soon as the waiter left with our orders, my mother started, “So you walked out on Jan and Daniel to come to Nice with whom?”

“He must be something,” my father said and sighed. “You know I’ve never said a word against Jan, even though I wished you had married someone who lived a little closer to New York, or who at least had a little more money. But done is done and I’ve never complained. And now you are going to tell me things aren’t working out?”

“Yes,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t help it, I started crying. “I’m so confused.”

“Come, come Rachel,” my father patted my hand rather ineffectively, “there must be more to it than that. You can tell us.”

“Well,” I said slowly, “As far as appearances go, things were pretty okay. It was just…”

“Just what?” my mother said, looking at me rather sharply.

That only made me cry more.

“It was just…” I said again slowly.

“Just what?” my mother repeated more slowly and more gently.

“Well just…” I was struggling to find the words, “I felt like I was suffocating. Like my life was going down the tube! It was all just so meaningless.”

My parents were silent, both looking at me with their kind eyes, so I rushed on, “Not only was our life together such a bore, but Jan is so….”

I paused, not knowing how to explain.

“So what…” my father asked.

“So mean and cold – and so small-minded!”

There I’d said it! I’d blurted it out!  Jan was a bore, an asshole. My life sucked!

Now that it was out, I rushed on, “I mean our life together was just so uninteresting… I don’t know if you can understand but I just felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore,” I paused for a moment and then plunged on, “I just couldn’t figure out what I was living for… And Jan never really saw me anyway. He just took me for granted, like I was a piece of furniture or something! It seemed like my only job was to make him happy!”

There it was!

My truth. What a relief to finally say it! Up until then, I hadn’t fully understood it myself. But now that I said it, there it was, lying quietly on the table before us. Like a smooth, round stone, silent and hard. My truth! My life was a bore! My husband was a jerk! Hearing my own words was such a revelation.

“It was just so frustrating, having a small child and all that and Jan being so closed in upon himself. In the end it was just the same old, same old routine every day. It was like I didn’t feel like a real person anymore.” I cried some more. “I know this sounds really stupid, but it was just such a drag… In the end, it was like I didn’t exist.”

“Ah Rachel,” my mother sighed and said thoughtfully, “This is something that happens to many women your age. Suddenly your youth is gone and you think, is this really it? Is this really my life? Is this all there is to it? It happened to me too so I know how scary it can be. So many of us go through this… one way or another. What it really means is that it’s time for you to find something interesting to do with your life whether or not you stay with Jan. It’s high time you start making a life for yourself! But Rachel darling, it doesn’t mean you have to leave your son, your precious child!”

“Oh I know,” I said crying even more. “What a mess I’ve made of things! My poor baby! I miss him so much… I really do…” I blew my nose and then added, sniffing, “I probably wouldn’t have left him if I hadn’t met Stefan.”

“So,” my father said, fingering his napkin and looking down at the table, “you wanted to go to bed with this Stefan and instead of being like we used to be when we were young, you actually did go to bed with him. And you liked it very much.”

Hearing these words from my father really surprised me. He never seemed to understand my generation before so this was really a change.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Don’t you think we know a little about sex too my dear?”

“I just didn’t think you could possibly understand what I’ve done. I feel like such a fool.” I started to cry again.

“We all make mistakes Rachel,” my father said, “but that doesn’t mean you abandon your child… Think about what you’re doing sweetheart! Is this guy Stefan worth it?”

It was true; I didn’t know what to think.

There was a loaded silence. Then I said what I guessed we were all thinking, “So you think I should go back or what? I mean what would I do? Go back to Jan? Get a divorce?”

“How should we know Rachel? But for starters you could go back and have a talk with Jan,” my father said. “I mean he is your husband – so why not tell him exactly what you just told us? Why not tell him the truth? Why not tell him how unhappy you are with your life.”

“I don’t know if I can – he’s so hard to talk to.”

“Well you could try. Don’t you think you owe it to your son?”

I was grateful that the waiter came with our food. Not that I was hungry, but I needed a break, and time to assimilate what my parents said. Of course I had expected them to scold me, but did they really understand? Could they possibly understand how difficult living with Jan was and how dissatisfied I was with my life? And what about the whole sex thing? The whole good pussy bad pussy thing? Could they possibly understand how strong that drive was? And how it drove me to experiment and do things I couldn’t possibly tell them about? Like sleeping with Stefan’s best friend and loving it too? How could they understand when I hardly understood it myself! Stefan! Albert! Good pussy bad pussy! I didn’t know what to make of it… or her.

All I knew for sure was that when I met Stefan, I just wanted to forget everything else about my life. All I wanted was to disappear down the rabbit hole into the ecstasy of our sexual encounters. Being with Stefan had made me feel so real again, so alive. There was just something about it that made me forget everything else. It was so deep, like total annihilation. I just loved it. I loved disappearing into the bliss. And when that happened, I didn’t want my real life anymore. I didn’t want to wake up anymore with a husband who was as cold as ice and always lost in his own worries. I just knew there had to be more to life than that. With Stefan it was different. When I was with him, all my frustrations disappeared into this shining passion that seemed to consume everything. Maybe it wasn’t real life, but who needed real life? Our passionate encounters were so much better than real life; in fact being with Stefan felt like a dream come true. And it was happening to me. When it was so intense like that, I felt that for once in my life, everything had come into focus. Everything was clear. I was present, alive, thrilled in the moment.

But sitting there at the table with my parents, I knew what they were going to tell me with their down-to-earth, common sense view of life. They were going to say Rachel darling, no matter how good it is, it won’t last. They were going to say that life doesn’t work like that, that life can’t be that good, that much fun. To them, life was work, responsibility, sacrifice and so on. In their world, you couldn’t always get what you wanted. And to them, the bottom line was that whatever I was doing there was my son to think about.

I knew that was what they were going to say but I didn’t want to hear it. Right then, all I wanted was my shot at ecstasy.

To be continued…

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But then I thought of Jan and the life I‘d left behind and my heart skipped a beat. Did I know what I was doing? Suddenly my old life seemed so much more attractive… or maybe I was just longing for the safety of the known. You could do the same thing with many men. What was the difference? And then there was our child! My son! Why hadn’t I seen it before? Did I have to lose him to realize how precious he was!

And what about Stefan? How could he just turn me over to another man like that, even if Albert was his mentor and hero? What was with him? What were they into? I shivered inside, realizing I didn’t have a clue as to what I’d gotten myself into.

At that very moment, Albert began fondling my nipples just firmly enough to excite me. I didn’t resist, nor did I participate. I just let it happen, as if I was watching him and myself from some far away place. This was such a new experience for me; being touched by a man I’d never met before. I didn’t quite know what to think or feel. But Albert was so powerful and attractive that I found it strangely thrilling to feel him touching me so I let myself settle back into the chair.

He understood my body language immediately because he let go of my nipples and lifted my legs expertly and placed them one on each arm of the chair so I was spread eagle before him. I stiffened in surprise, remembering I had no panties on. He went down on me, not waiting for my consent, but tasting me slowly and making me wet. Oh my God I thought… was this me? Was I really doing this?

But yes I was… and then…

Oh my, oh my…

I heard myself moaning at the thrill of his tongue touching me.

He was good… goodness was he good…

He removed his lips from me and put his fingers up me with a gentle firmness that bespoke a knowingness of women and years of experience. I gasped. He came up to me again and began kissing me on the mouth, keeping his fingers in me at the same time.  I moaned as he kept on touching me knowingly, kissing me and bearing down on me. There was no resisting him now. And I felt myself opening even wider under his expert touch.

“You’re…” I mumbled not knowing how to react, confused by the intense pleasure I was feeling.

“I want to see you come,” he murmured in my ear, his fingers emerging slowly from inside me and again playing gently with my innermost lips, caressing them ever so softly. Ahh… The softness of his touch was exquisite, so exquisite. And he waited as I sighed even more deeply and he continued to caress me with such perfect gentleness until he knew that I wanted him too, wanted him to see me surrender completely to his touch.

Then he went down on me again, this time even more slowly, kissing my very wet pussy and doing things to me with his tongue that I’d never experienced before.

I heard myself gasping again with pleasure.

He was a man who could take me exactly where he wanted me to go. And he did. I was defenseless against the tide of liquid desire he released in me. And then I felt it; the confusion of emotions, the rush of ecstasy, the warmth, the wetness. I heard myself moaning and I grabbed his hair – I was nearing the point of no return. I cried out… shaking and trembling, exactly as he knew I would… exactly… and I was there, precisely where he wanted me to be… there as the tide of liquid desire swept me away… and I disappeared happily, ecstatically into the ecstasy of the most amazing, shuddering climax.

No man had ever made me feel like that before. Ever!

When I opened my eyes, my fingers were twisted in Albert’s hair. I would have pushed him away, but he didn’t give me time. He grabbed me and pulled me up. Now he too was aroused. There was no mistaking the hungry look on his aristocratic face, a look mixed with satisfaction. Now he wanted me too. He led me to the bedroom.

“Take off your dress.”

I did as he said. Trembling and bold at the same time.

He undressed and came to me on the low bed. I was wet and ready. He entered me and I gasped, not expecting him to be so hard. He held my hands down and rose above me. There was something strangely magnetic and powerful about him, something I’d never seen in any man before. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, my body bending to his will. He was approaching his climax.

“Tell me, do you want it?”

He looked me deep in the eyes, his gaze penetrating me.

When I didn’t answer, he said it again, “Tell me, do you want it?”

He had this intense, one-pointed quality about him and I felt myself being drawn into his passion.

“Yes,” I murmured softly, “yes.”

He thrust himself deeper into me. “Say please.”

And then he paused, breaking his rhythm and moving in me slowly and sensually until I felt that tide of liquid desire rising in me again. Oh my, oh my! Again!

“Say it!” He moved faster, deeper.

“Say it!”

And I felt it; the liquid tide was gaining momentum – again – and moving, moving, moving… ready to sweep me away until I heard myself crying, “Yes please, please!”

And then he did sweep me away with a fierceness and intensity that did not stop until we both shuddered and came at exactly the same moment. Then he lay on top of me for a long time, his face turned away.

When at last he looked at me with those deep penetrating eyes of his, I felt so many strange emotions.

 _____

When I got back to our suite at the hotel, I was relieved that Stefan wasn’t there. I didn’t want to face him just then. I wanted to be alone. So much had happened. I needed to sort out my feelings. I had gone through so many changes in one evening. Albert said very little after his first explosion inside me, but there had been a change in him. After we lay still for a long while on the low bed, he made love to me again. But the second time was so different from the first, so tender and gentle, showing me another side of this incredible man.  And later, when he drove me home with the wind in his face, he was silent and I liked him for it.

But by the time he left me at the door to the hotel, he was the same again as he was in the beginning.

“I hope our little princess has enjoyed herself,” he whispered in my ear and left.

When I got back to our suite, I closed the door and leaned against it, my legs trembled so. Then I went to the bedroom and lay down fully dressed on the bed, overwhelmed by what had just happened and by what I had just done. There was no denying it; this was the real raw adventure I’d been dreaming of, but what I hadn’t expected was that it would trigger such powerful emotions in me. Albert was such an incredible man. I’d never met anyone like him before and didn’t know what to feel or think.  Our meeting had been so… Was this the beginning of my liberation or enslavement? Oh where oh where had good pussy bad pussy just taken me?

Albert!

   Stefan!

   Good pussy bad pussy!

   What was going on?

What was happening to me?

All I knew for sure was that I’d experienced a depth of passion I’d never tasted before – and with a man I’d only just met.

I didn’t know what to think and drifted off to sleep.

Much later I heard the bedroom door open and knew it was Stefan. I didn’t want to face him so I pretended I was sleeping. I heard him moving around the room. He didn’t turn on the light or try to wake me. Instead he came over to me and gently raised my dress. I was lying on my stomach and he lowered himself down on me. I was still wet from Albert, so he entered me easily.

“Oh Rachel,” he whispered tenderly in my ear, “if only you knew how sorry I am. If only you could understand, I couldn’t prevent tonight from happening.”

I was stunned. He had never been like that before, never showed me that he cared – at least not like that. Before he’d always carefully kept his distance, closed in upon himself like a beautiful oyster. But as I felt him growing in me, he was holding me tighter than he had ever done before. Loving me as I had hoped he would, finally, when I thought I might be through with him. Thought I might be through with him for giving me so nonchalantly to his best friend.  But how could I be? How could I be through with the man I had wanted so desperately, right up until that very day? The man who had swept me off my feet with his silent beauty? I might have been confused by it all, but deep down in my heart of hearts, I knew I couldn’t resist him – at least not for long. Not for more than a second or two. So I let myself glide away and be swallowed up by the force of his passion. Only in the dark, when he thought I was half asleep could Stefan reveal his true feelings for me, only after he had coolly given me to his best friend and mentor, the incredible man who had just possessed me so utterly and completely.

To be continued…

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Stefan was wearing a white jacket and an elegant pale blue shirt. His blond hair, which fell softly across his broad forehead, was cut slightly shorter than when I first met him. His suntan… Just looking at him I felt it again… that jolt of energy. He radiated such life force. Why did I want him so? I’d already had him, but still I wanted him, wanted more… it was insane.

A dark-haired man approached our table and I knew at once it was Albert. I tingled inside with fear and anticipation. He was an attractive man, a strong man. Not beautiful like Stefan, but handsome with a certain fierceness one could not overlook.

Stefan was standing up and they embraced each other as brothers will do who have not seen each other in a long time. All I knew was that they spent time together in Vienna when they were young. Albert, whose parents were Italian, was six or seven years older than Stefan. They met when Stefan, who was Austrian, came down from the mountains to go to university. To support himself, he worked as a student intern at Albert’s father’s offices in Vienna. It was there they met. At the time, Stefan was a total innocent and Albert took my blond Adonis under his wing, which earned him Stefan’s undying loyalty.

Albert had his arm around Stefan, he was taller than Stefan. The contrast between them was striking. Albert was tall, dark and very aristocratic looking while Stefan was truly a blond hunk with the most amazing sky-blue eyes.

I started to stand up too.

Albert turned to me, “Ah, so this is Rachel,” he said and took my hand and kissed it. “Please, please sit down. Stefan has told me about you. I hope you are enjoying your stay here.”

We sat down.

Albert touched my hair as if it was his natural right, as if he had known me for years. The waiter approached and we ordered. Then Albert began talking to Stefan in German. He glanced at me and said, “Just business my dear, I am sure you understand.”

I was happy to be left out; happy I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. I tried to collect myself but when I looked at Albert my heart beat rapidly and I felt dizzy. I was nervous but also filled with glee because here was real, raw adventure and it was happening to me.

Everything was uncertain.

I felt alive and tingled all over.

The food arrived and Albert ate and talked with Stefan the whole time. Stefan had a small pad beside his plate and occasionally made a note. He didn’t say much.

Then Albert said, “Please give Mr. Hadid my apologies for being unable to meet him tonight; make some excuse about me being called away suddenly. And give him this.” Albert took a thin white envelope out of his pocket and gave it to Stefan. “It’s a personal invitation to Hadid to come to Cap Ferrat with his wife. You know how important he is to our new set-up in Egypt.”

Stefan didn’t look particularly happy. Why had Albert changed his plans?

Then the thought hit me; was it because of me?

My head spun. Drinking on an empty stomach always affected me like this. I was getting carried away, as one drama after another unfolded in my head! But being with men like them, well I just couldn’t think straight and frankly didn’t care.

Albert had curly jet black hair, cut very elegantly and close to the head. He had a strong Italian face, not so magazine handsome as Stefan, but more alive, more special, more refined and more degenerate. His lips were slightly swollen as if he had tasted every pleasure. He dressed immaculately; a light beige suit, a tight fitting vest, a beautiful silk shirt with gold cuff links.

Was I behaving like a sex-starved maniac?

My husband Jan and I had a good life, or so I had told myself. Once I thought I loved Jan and I knew I loved my son. But now I wasn’t sure I loved my husband anymore. Somewhere there had been a lack. Or was it just the routine and utter boredom of being a mother and wife that had gotten to me? No matter how great I kept telling myself my life was, there was just too much information coming into my head about all the other beautiful people (and women) who were having a great time exploring life and expanding their boundaries. And there I was, stuck and feeling smothered with a boring, small-minded husband in the boring routine of my little life. Sooner or later, I had to go crazy from the sheer frustration of it. And when I met Stefan, I did.

I knew of course that respectable, grown-up women didn’t do what I was doing. They kept their frustrations and raging desires under control. There might be no excuse for my conduct, but there sure as hell were a lot of explanations. And besides, I was having a great time.

After dinner we drank espresso and grappa in silence.

Thru the windows I could sense the balmy air of the coast, the gently swaying trees, the soft night noises, well-dressed people on their way to various pleasures and boredom. I smiled to myself.

“You are enjoying yourself, my dear?” Albert leaned close to me.

“Yes.” In fact, it was the thought of my own misconduct that made me smile.

Stefan took my hand and said, “I have to go now; an unexpected meeting. Albert will take you home. See you at the hotel.” He got up and walked away. I didn’t even care. The liquor had gone to my head. I smiled as he left, feeling mellow and warm between my legs.

Then I felt Albert’s warm hand moving slowly up my thigh, under my dress. His hand was gentle but firm. I tightened inwardly after so much liquor and relaxation.

“Ah,” he said, “I see Stefan remembers that I prefer women who wear no panties.”

“Come my dear,” he said and rose to go. I stood up and followed him, smoothing down the folds of my dress. There was wetness between my thighs. We walked out into the balmy night air and the breeze caressed my bare legs under my dress.

Albert opened the door to a Porsche. I climbed in and we drove off.

_____

Albert had a condominium with a spectacular view of the coast. We were high up. From the balcony you could see forever. The evening was clear, the stars shining brightly. The same stars that shined down on my husband and child so far away. Suddenly all my bravado disappeared and I felt very small and lonely and wished piercingly that I was home again, safe from this adventure. The ache inside was hard and cold and I felt panic.

Albert came out on the balcony with a drink in his hand. “You must not catch cold my dear. Come inside.” I was positive he knew exactly what I was feeling.

Inside the space was bare, open, minimalistic. Almost Zen in nature and appearance. A single bonsai, exquisite and proud on a tiny polished black table. A large smooth round stone in the corner.

He put on some quiet music and took me in his arms to dance. He was teasing me, testing me, playing with me. There was something almost ruthless about his debonair manner. And even though I was trying to act cool, I was all fluttery inside.

“Why did you leave your husband for Stefan?” he asked me.

“Oh I don’t know… I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Ah…,” he said, “so the blood in your veins runs very hot, is that it?” He took my chin in his hands and forced me to look up at him. He examined my face slowly and smiled, not unkindly. I felt shy and full of strange desire at the same time. When he seemed satisfied, he led me over to one of the few armchairs in the sparely furnished room. It was a large and comfortable.

“Let’s see if you really are as warm as you are beautiful.”

He took off his jacket and loosened his tie.

“Make yourself comfortable Rachel.”

I sat down in the huge arm chair, my heart pounding in my chest.

He got down on his knees and positioned himself right between my legs. Then he leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth, slow and easy, just exploring. I didn’t feel aroused, only afraid. But there was no turning back now. I had chosen this myself. This was the real, raw adventure I’d been dreaming of.

To be continued…

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The book is now available. You can order it on Amazon.com  or on Amazon.co.uk

Here’s how it all starts….

Pages 1-3:

“I was incredibly horny and told myself it was true love, great passion, high romance, so I left my husband and four-year old son in Amsterdam and went to Nice with Stefan. It was almost the end of August. I had a lot to learn.

We had been in Nice a few days when Stefan said, “Tonight we’re going to meet Albert. Go get your hair done.”

He put money in my hand.

“I’ll wait for you on the beach. When you’re done, we’ll go buy you some new clothes.”

So I was finally going to meet the big man. It was about time. I was really curious. Stefan never talked very much, but when he did Albert always turned up in the conversation.

After I got my hair done, Stefan took me shopping. He took me to the expensive boutiques on the Avenue Jean Medecin. We went into a shop with Yves Saint Laurent dresses and Gucci bags in the window. A glamorous woman waited on us. Stefan told her what kind of a dress he was looking for. She eyed me for size and came out with an absolutely stunning creamy white dress. It had a tight-fitting bodice with thin straps and a loose soft flowing skirt.

Stefan nodded, “Go try it on.”

It fit perfectly and looked divine. I couldn’t believe it was me. I had always wanted to look like that. When I came out to show Stefan he said, “That will be ok for tonight, but now you need some more clothes.”

He bought me sexy lace underwear, new shoes and a bag to match. Designer jeans, a slew of t-shirts, a new bikini, skinny white pants and a white jacket. I couldn’t believe how much money he was spending. Everything was packed up and we went back to the hotel.

“Go put your make-up on,” Stefan said, “we’re going to have dinner with Albert.”

I took my time. It was hard to get used to the feeling of luxury, clothes, money, the Riviera. I felt guilty about running out on my husband and son and having a good time.

Stefan was satisfied with the way I looked. When we got to the door of our suite he said, “Give me your panties.”

I took them off. They were the beautiful new lace ones he’d just bought me. He put them in his pocket.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Down on the street, a limousine was waiting for us. The chauffeur opened the door and we got in. As we drove along, Stefan put his arm around me and kissed me on the neck.

“I want you to do whatever Albert wants,” he said softly in my ear even though the chauffeur could not possibly hear us through the glass that separated him from us. “Do you understand?”

“What do you mean?” I asked in surprise.

“Well… he may not want anything… but then again, he might want to bed you. He has before with other women I’ve known.”

“But…” I started to say.

Stefan put his fingers to my lips.

He was blond, muscular and divinely beautiful. I was madly in love with him or so I thought.

“Don’t ask me why. If you really feel as you say about me, you’ll do what I ask.”

I trembled all over. This was an unexpected turn of events. Not how I had imagined things would be. I’d never been to bed with a man I didn’t know. Just like that.

But it was strange and exciting to be sitting on the backseat of a limousine in a marvelous dress with no panties on. Stefan put his hand up my dress. I was embarrassed by the moisture between my legs. We pulled up before a posh-looking restaurant but Stefan did not remove his hand. Instead he kissed me long and passionately on the mouth.

Inside the restaurant, Stefan asked the maitre d’ for Mr. Giovanni’s table in French. Stefan spoke French and German much better than he spoke English. I always spoke English with him because my French wasn’t very good and I couldn’t speak German at all.

We were shown to a corner table with a marvelous view. There was no one there; we had arrived first. The maitre d’ said Albert had just called and said he would be arriving at 8.30. Stefan ordered champagne.

As we sat sipping our champagne, I looked at Stefan. My heart skipped a beat. What was it about him that drove me so crazy? I couldn’t explain it to myself and now that things seemed to be moving in an unexpected direction, I really wanted to see the man who was the cause of it all.

Did I trust Stefan with my life?

Definitely not!

But I loved being with him. He was my very own blond Adonis, strong, muscular and very self-contained. Because of him I was on the Riviera, sitting at a fancy restaurant, drinking champagne in an expensive dress with no panties on, waiting to meet a man who might make unusual demands of me. It was hard to believe I was just an ordinary woman with a little son. What had happened to me?”

to be continued

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