by Wolf Wootan
“Bob, I am so sorry—my English is failing me. I am not saying the things in my heart. I am thinking them in German. If I could tell you in German, perhaps you would understand me better,” she said, close to tears.
“I understand your English just fine, Kat. You’re saying men—me included—just want you for your body, not for who you are,” he replied, more gruffly than he had intended. He had no intention of letting her know how fluent in German he was. She was blasting him well enough in English.
“I said something like that, but that was not the point I wanted to make. I was born with this face and this body, and all of my life—first boys, then men—have only been interested in my body parts. I have never been able to have a relationship with a man that transcended that. With you, however, the last few days, and today, I was so comfortable. I began hoping. I had so much fun—singing with you, ice skating with you, just holding your hand …”
Her voice trailed off into silence, and she looked back at the fire as a cinder flew when the log popped. He had to admit to himself that he had felt some of the feelings she was talking about. He had enjoyed her company immensely. But he could not lose sight of the fact that she was a spy who slept with the enemy in order to obtain information. He decided to make her get all of her cards on the table, without revealing any of his own. He looked around to make sure they had complete privacy. They still did.
“Kat, you have made me feel very ashamed of myself. You are right. I started out with the goal of getting you into bed with me. But since you started this honesty trip, let me finish it. First, let me say that I truly did enjoy your company. You are a fun person to be around. But, also—continuing the honesty thing—I had a few pangs of jealousy watching you parade those embassy guys around. I know what your real job is, Kat. I figured if you were giving them a piece of the action, why not me?”
She straightened up and shifted her body to face him. Her face was white and frightened, her eyes red. She let go of his hand, and looked around to see if anyone was listening.
“What are you talking about?” she gasped.
“Kat, you said I should not insult your intelligence. Do not try and insult mine. You are an East German Stasi agent, and one of your jobs is to sleep with the enemy and pick up pillow talk. Right?” he stated pointedly, but without anger.
“Oh, Bob! You know? I mean about the job? But I did not sleep with those men! Believe me, Bob!” she sobbed, less concerned that he knew she was a spy than that he thought she slept with her dates.
He reached out and pulled her to him, and she cried into his chest. He found himself stroking her hair and gently patting her back. He retrieved his handkerchief and gave it to her.
“All right, Kat. Tell me about it, then,” he said gently.
God, this woman has my emotions spinning! She has touched parts of me I haven’t felt in years! What in hell is wrong with me?
She told him her story. She worked for the Stasi as a surveillance agent. This was not her choice, but she was told if she did not do as they said, she and her mother and sister would be thrown in prison, or worse. They held the welfare of her mother and sister over her head while she was on assignments out of East Germany. Recently, they had added the extra duty of seducing U.S. Embassy employees. They made her dress provocatively and date those that she could. It was true that she was ordered to sleep with them and pump them for information. She could not bring herself to do that, so she lied to her superiors and said that she did. The quality of the information she was supplying was poor, so they were threatening to send her back to East Berlin if she did not do better.
“They told me that with my looks I should be able to charm the pants off of the Ambassador himself,” she finished up her story. Her eyes were dry now, but were still red. Her makeup was a mess. She leaned back against him and he put his arms around her again.
“How did you know I was a spy, Bob?” she said in a muffled voice.
Think fast, Hatcher! You can’t afford to blow your own cover!
“I know some of the guys you dated. You know, from the piano bar. A couple of them told me they thought you were pumping them. And you came on with the sexiness. I put two and two together,” he lied. “If I may say so, you’re not a very good spy.”
Jeez, that’s weak, Hatcher. She’ll never buy that explanation!
“And they said they slept with me?” she sniffed, missing the weakness of his statement.
“Not in so many words, but you know how guys are. They will never admit that they struck out.”
“But you assumed I was?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then maybe my superiors will think so, too!” she said with a sigh. “It is important that they do. Otherwise, I am in even bigger trouble. Are you going to turn me in, or have you already?”
“I haven’t yet,” he responded.
“And I know why you haven’t. You wanted to take my pants off first, right?” she accused.
“You mean get into your pants,” he corrected.
She thought for a moment, then said, “That does not make much sense. Your American idioms are very strange sometimes. I was trying not to use a more vulgar expression. What I meant to say is that you wanted to screw me. Is that more understandable?”
She laughed as she said that, starting to feel better.
“Now, Kat,” he soothed, stroking her hair.
She moved away from his chest and took his left hand in both of hers and pulled it to her chest, resting it between her breasts.
“I have an idea. Let me go wash my face and fix my makeup. Order us another of these rum drinks while I am gone. Then we will start over. No more talk today of what a poor spy I am, or that you are trying to screw me. We will enjoy the rest of the day as we were before I spoiled it!”
With that, she grabbed her handbag and headed for the Ladies’ Room.
Hatcher took a quick trip to the Men’s Room and splashed cold water on his face, trying to pull himself together. Her revelations had shaken him deeply. He knew the right thing to do was to take her home, forget her, and move on with his life. Or he could give her name to the appropriate people in the CIA and let her become their problem. Somehow, he could not bring himself to do either. He had to see how this strange scenario would play out. He trudged back to the couch in front of the huge fireplace, ordering more drinks on the way.
When she returned, there was no trace of her previous tears. She had a wide smile and looked radiant again. She had unbuttoned her sweater and he saw she was wearing a white, vee-necked top underneath it. She sat down next to him, picked up her drink, and then faced him.
“To better relations between us,” she smiled.
He retrieved his glass from the table and clinked it against hers.
“To women like you, who put men like me in their places,” he smiled back.
“Now let us talk of more pleasant things,” she continued. “May I have a cigarette, please?”
• • •
For dinner, he took her to an Italian restaurant. She insisted on spaghetti, over the more exotic dishes available, and he delighted in watching her try to eat it. She managed to get sauce all over her pretty face. They laughed a lot and drank red wine that came from a bottle wrapped in straw. He did not try the martini ploy as he had planned earlier. After dessert and coffee, he hailed the waiter and asked for the bill.
“You know, Bob, I have never had such a nice day. I have comfortable feelings toward you. I am willing to make a deal with you. I will break my rule about no kissing on the first date, if you will promise me you will not pursue your goal tonight. I would very much enjoy snuggling with you and—how do you Americans say—petting?” she said as the waiter left the table with Bob Kelly’s credit card.
He had not heard that term in years. He knew what it meant. A lot of kissing and no screwing! He had not spent a lot of time immersed in that scenario. Not since high school. Could he promise Kat that he would not try to go farther than just kissing? Somehow, he th
ought he could. Besides, he was dying to kiss this woman! He experienced a warm feeling just thinking about snuggling with her in front of a roaring fire, and kissing those sweet lips. Yes, he thought he would like that.
“Petting?” he said with an arched eyebrow. “That would really be breaking your rules! In America, that’s something teenagers do. Are you a teenager, Kat?”
“No, I am twenty-eight! But today I feel like a teenager! How do you feel? Do you think you can behave like a teenager, and not a leecher?” she teased with a broad smile.
“You mean lecher, I think. And you know, Kat, I think I can. I promise, for tonight at least, that I will not pursue taking your pants off,” he said. She giggled at that.
“You make fun of my English,” she answered coyly, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.
“Does your apartment have a fireplace? Snuggling and petting is best done in front of a roaring fire, I’m told,” he stated.
“My poor apartment? Heavens no!” she exclaimed.
“Well, mine does. Will you come to my place? Or would that make you feel too uncomfortable?” he asked.
“If you have a fireplace that is much better. We will go to your place,” she said with conviction.
• • •
When she entered his apartment she was in awe. It was much, much larger than hers. It had a large front room with a fireplace made of stone, was well furnished, and had a comfortable look. It had a separate kitchen, a spacious bedroom, and a bathroom with a shower and a tub. Hatcher, because of the nature of his business, had few personal belongings. He had made this place look as if he did have possessions, however. He had bought books, art for the walls, a television set, a stereo tape player, and so on. It had the look of a comfortable bachelor’s apartment. While she toured the place room by room, he started a fire. Plenty of wood was stacked in a niche beside the fireplace.
“How about a drink, Kat?” he yelled, not knowing exactly where she had wandered off to.
“Yes, that would be nice,” she answered from the bathroom, where she was admiring the tub. Her apartment had a shower only, and she was lucky to have that. Some apartments had communal showers. She had not soaked in a tub for a long time, and she wished she could do so right now.
“I have some rum. Do you want another hot rum drink, or something else?” he yelled again.
“Another rum sounds delicious,” she said, coming back into the living room. She found him in the kitchen. She put her arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him with moist lips.
“I just love your apartment! It is so homey!” she exclaimed.
He put some water on to heat and gathered some rum and spices from a cabinet. She wandered back into the living room, speaking as she admired the pictures on the walls.
“I just love your bathroom, especially the tub. I really miss having one. My mother has one on the farm where she lives. I love to soak in it.”
“Feel free to use it, Kat. I’ll bring your drink to you and wash your back,” he teased, wishing she would actually take him up on the suggestion.
“You would use any ploy to get a girl’s pants off, wouldn’t you?” she laughed.
“OK, Kat! I promised, so I’ll keep my promise. But you are welcome to use the tub anytime you wish,” he stated sincerely.
He finished fixing the drinks and brought them into the living room and put them on the table in front of the couch that faced the fireplace. The fire was roaring now, snapping and popping behind the fire screen. She had removed her sweater, because it was now getting warm in the room. He followed her lead and took his off also. He sat on the left end of the couch and she sat next to him, taking off her boots and pulling her legs up on the couch. They sipped their drinks and watched the fire in silence. The tape he had started playing when he lit the fire softly wafted Mozart strains around them. She leaned her head on his right shoulder and hummed softly to the music. He put his arm around her, and she continued to hum and watch the flames do a crazy dance.
“This is such a nice end to the most vonderful day of my life. I hope you had some enjoyment, too,” she sighed contentedly.
“I have to admit, Kat, that I really had a great time with you today. You seem to bring out some of my basic humanity, and stir feelings I haven’t felt for a long time,” he replied wistfully, and honestly.
She put her drink down, then took his and placed it next to hers. Then she stretched out on the couch, her upper body in his lap, her head on his left arm, which rested on the arm of the couch. He pulled her up and put his right arm around her body, kissing her gently. She began tasting his lips with her own and he followed suit. It was the most sensuous kiss he could remember. They continued like that for what seemed like several minutes. Finally, they broke the kiss.
“I liked that very much, Bob. Very much!” she sighed. “I am glad I broke my rule!”
“So did I, Kat! You are a champion kisser!” he replied in a nearly inaudible voice.
They sipped their drinks for a moment in silence.
Then she said, “I think I try to do even better.”
He pulled her close again and this time her tongue began exploring his mouth. Her small breasts were against his chest as he held her tightly to him. His tongue dueled with hers, frantically. They broke for air and he stroked her hair with his right hand and she leaned back into the cradle of his left arm.
“I think petting includes this,” she whispered. She took his right hand from her hair and placed it on her left breast. His hand was on fire as he squeezed the firm mound of her breast. He could feel her nipple strain against her bra. He kissed her again, furiously. They broke the kiss again, and he ran his hand over her breasts, first one, then the other. He ran his hand under her shirt, the better to feel them.
“Undo my bra,” she whispered. “It unfastens in the front.”
He found the hooks, but had trouble unhooking the bra with one hand. She pulled her shirt up and helped him. Her white bra fell away and he saw her breasts in all their glory, pink erect nipples rising from smooth pink areolas. He ran his hand over them, playing with her nipples. Her breasts were as white as the snow falling outside. She looked like a porcelain doll, or more like a Varga Girl created with an air brush. He could not believe she was allowing him to view this gorgeous sight.
“May I kiss your gorgeous breasts, Kat?” he said hoarsely.
“I don’t know. Is that part of petting? I know petting allows ‘feeling up,’ as you Americans say, but I do not know if breast kissing is allowed,” she taunted him.
“Yes, in America, petting definitely includes breast kissing,” he said, not knowing if that was true or not.
“Well, then I guess I must allow them to be kissed. But be gentle. For some reason, my nipples are very sensitive right now,” she giggled.
She rose up so they could shift her position to one that would allow his mouth access to her breasts. She took off her shirt and bra and threw them on the floor. As he bent to suck her nipples, his right hand moved down her body, across her flat stomach, and reached her belly button.
“Keep your attention on my breasts, please. Your hand is going in the wrong direction. Remember your promise!” she chided.
Christ! That was just a reflex action on my part. I hope I didn’t get her upset! This is way too good to screw up now.
“Sorry, Kat! I’ll try to stay more focused,” he said, moving his hand back to her left breast, cupping it gently as he sucked its nipple.
“Ah, that feels very nice, Bob. Isn’t petting fun, like I said it would be?” she said, arching her back so her breast was forced further into his mouth.
“I just love petting,” he mumbled through his breast-filled mouth.
“I want to kiss you again. You may get back to my breasts later. Come up here!” she demanded. He obeyed.
• • •
They “petted” for another half-hour or so, then sat up to sip their drinks. He was still amazed at the sight of her sitti
ng there naked from the waist up. He went to the kitchen and started heating some water for more hot drinks.
This is unbelievable! I am about to explode! She must have felt my erection, but never said a word. How can she have such self-control? By all rights, we should be fucking our brains out by now! She is either trying to torture me, or trying to teach me some kind of lesson about self-control. Either way, I’ll keep my promise. She is too gorgeous and sexy to lose. And I am really having a whale of a time!
He brought the warm drinks back and they drank from those, she sitting there half-naked and showing no embarrassment or uneasiness. She seemed so relaxed and at ease, he finally calmed down and became more comfortable with the situation. They each had a cigarette, and smoked quietly for a while.
“I have tomorrow off as well as today, so we do not have to be in a hurry tonight. We can sleep late tomorrow,” she informed him.
My God! She’s going to spend the night? And I have to keep my hands north of her belly button? She must also be in charge of the Stasi torture squad!
“That’s just great, Kat! You can spend the night here then?” he managed to say.
“If you will let me. That way, you don’t have to take me home in the middle of the night,” she answered.
“And you get to soak in my tub in the morning, right?”
“Of course! I am not stupid about all things!” she giggled sheepishly.
They sipped drinks, had long bouts of French kissing, and much more breast kissing for another hour or so. He stoked the fire and added wood twice during that time. They had switched to wine, because heating water for the rum drinks was too time-consuming and distracting. Finally, they were both exhausted from the long day’s activities, and the drinking, so they decided to go to bed. He got her one of his large tee shirts to wear. She stripped off her black pants and he saw that she was wearing black bikini underwear. He nearly melted at the sight of her. She pulled his tee shirt over her head and climbed into his bed. He undressed and climbed in next to her. She kissed him sleepily and rolled onto her left side.
“Snuggle me, please,” she stated.