Objects of Desire

by Roberta Latow

  Anoushka’s eyes were brimming with held-back tears. Hadon watched her bite on the corner of her lip and take her fork and knife in hand, making an attempt on the food in front of her. She looked utterly miserable, but more glamorously so than she had at the rail of the ship. That was what prompted him to say, ‘I don’t really want to hear about your husband or about your conversational Japanese. You’re more than that, much more. I’m offering you a job as literary translator for my work.’

  ‘I don’t want a job. I don’t need a job. I want my marriage back, my husband, my family. I don’t want to change my life. I was happy with the old one, but that’s gone, wiped away. I am married to a most important and extraordinary man. He was my life, my whole world. He created it for me and then destroyed it. He dumped me for another woman. Threw me on the rubbish heap like some object he once desired and no longer had a use for.’

  The pain and humiliation, her catastrophic losses, threatened to swamp her once again. Hadon thought for a moment that she was going to lose control of her emotions as she had when she had said goodbye to her family. The very idea annoyed him. About to say something to that effect, he was stopped by the manner in which Anoushka raised her chin just that little bit higher.

  ‘I shouldn’t have accepted this invitation. I’m sorry, but I think I must get some air.’ She placed her napkin on the table and rose very slowly from her chair.

  Hadon followed suit. ‘No, please. Stay. Finish your dinner. Don’t be stupid. I hate women when they play the martyr while they suffer.’

  Anoushka sat down again. She wanted to play no more roles. The two waiters who had come to draw their chairs retreated and Hadon sat down. He picked up his napkin and draped it across his lap, then his knife and fork and continued his meal. ‘The rosti potatoes are delicious,’ he told her.

  ‘My suffering has nothing to do with you, and martyrdom has always disturbed me.’

  ‘Then why do you constantly inflict it on me. Is it some kind of a female ploy of yours? If so it’s very unbecoming. You have other far more interesting female traits to practise on a man. Drop whatever is eating away at you and get on with your meal. Enjoy your life, the shackles are off.’

  When had Anoushka heard such straight talk from a man? Hadon Calder’s manner had certainly never been Robert’s. He pacified, charmed, showed affection and passion. But only now, listening to Hadon Calder, did she realise how Robert had pandered to her weaknesses, accepted them, or pretended to. He had never coped with her faults, and almost never bothered to point them out. What a fool she had been to think that his silence was caused by love for her.

  She found it impossible to eat, merely toyed with the food on her plate. She did, however, manage the Mouton-Rothschild claret quite easily. Hadon watched her in silence for some minutes then asked, ‘How would you say in Japanese, “One doesn’t wait for tomorrow, every minute is another day?” ’ And he smiled. It was a generous smile, not one that warmed the heart but one that declared, ‘I’m your friend.’

  Anoushka translated for him.

  ‘And, “Live in the heart of every one of those minutes.” Go on, I want to hear how it sounds in Japanese,’ he told her, a distinct twinkle for her in his eyes now.

  Again she answered him, only this time it was Anoushka who smiled. There was a spark of life in her smile that he had not seen before and he knew, though he had not expected it, that she would reveal more of herself to him before this night was over. Not a man to hesitate, he asked, ‘You would really like to get out of here, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Only when you’ve finished your meal.’

  ‘Let’s go. We’ll have that flamboyant dessert you ordered elsewhere.’ And he placed his napkin on the table. This time they both rose from their chairs at the same time. After Hadon asked the waiter to have the Baked Alaska and coffee sent up to his suite, they left the dining room together.

  The cabin steward was in the corridor. He rushed forward to open the door to Hadon’s suite. Hadon watched Anoushka and was convinced that she still had no idea that they had met before. An attraction had sprung up between them. As it usually is with these things, it was difficult to pinpoint just when it happened between them, but it was most definitely there.

  To block him out of her mind was one thing, but could she block out the rooms where she had, in some hysteria, passed out in his arms? He hoped so. How nice it would be for them to leave their first meeting far behind them, if only for this one night.

  Anoushka walked across the room to the desk and placed a hand on one of the books. It wasn’t going to happen. He could see recognition on her face. There was no embarrassment in her voice, just a sudden hint of too much pink on her cheeks. That surprised Hadon.

  ‘I had forgotten about these rooms. The good Samaritan who put me in his bed. I’m very good at blocking things I can’t cope with out of my mind. Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘There seemed no point.’

  A simple enough statement but one that changed everything between them. They fell silent and something new was born between them. Something erotic sparked, began to smoulder for them. It was instantly physical and exciting. Faces liking faces, a body wanting a body. The new and the fresh, flesh coming alive, wanting to make contact. A shiver of pleasure for Anoushka brought passion into her eyes. Not missed by Hadon. He walked across the room and, raising her hands to his lips, kissed them, first one, then the other. Then, very gently, he kissed her on her lips. He led her away from the desk close to the marble table in the centre of the room. The scent of red roses enveloped them. Very slowly, as if he were savouring every second of the act, Hadon removed the transparent silk jacket from Anoushka’s shoulders. His hand grazed the side of her neck and she yielded by dropping her head to one side and caressing his hand with her cheek. Like a pussy cat begging for affection, wanting to be caressed.

  He liked the feel of her skin. It was warm and soft, so smooth, yet taut over firm voluptuous flesh. His hands roamed sweetly over her chest and shoulders, down her arms. He played with her fingers, so long and slender, and liked the smoothness of the long oval-shaped fingernails. An almost imperceptible sigh of pleasure from her delighted him, prompting him to turn her hand over in his and raise it to his lips and kiss it.

  ‘How sweet and erotic the scent of red roses,’ she told him as she raised his head from her hand by placing a finger under his chin. Then she put her lips very carefully upon his and licked his lips, nibbling at them.

  While her kisses were taking him over, he caressed her breasts through the sensuous silk covering them. When Hadon slipped his hands under the strapless bodice, Anoushka’s sigh was one of a woman experiencing exquisite pleasure. To feel again the caress of a man’s hands on her naked breasts was to trigger pent-up sexual need. The very thought of intercourse, orgasm, that moment of ‘the little death’, strong and powerful, a coming that triggers a moment of perfect bliss, and the beat of a rampant penis taking possession of her, blocked out everything in life that was less than sexual. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his caresses and the sexual excitement she’d seen in Hadon’s eyes. She gave in to him, raised her arms and draped them round his neck, and everything in Anoushka Usopova Rivers gave herself over to all things sensual in Hadon Calder.

  She was more, much more than Hadon had anticipated. How well she hid the fire, the passion, her sexual hunger. It took him over, incited his own. He found the fastenings on her dress, fumbled with them and gave up. Unable to wait, he tugged at the strapless bodice. When it lay crumpled round her waist, he buried his face between her ample breasts and drew in the natural sweet perfume of her flesh, an aphrodisiac for Hadon. He licked and sucked her into his mouth. She tasted divine. He pressed the sides of her breasts against his face. The sensation of being smothered by her voluptuous flesh incited him to bite into her: love bites, leaving passionate tracks to her nipples. The large and dark nimbuses round the already erect, long and succulently fat nipples was sexy in the extreme. He held o
ne breast in both his hands. It overflowed his fingers, this firm fleshy wonder of erotic delight, and he lowered his mouth to it and sucked deeply, using his teeth to taunt and tease.

  Anoushka writhed with pleasure. Her breasts had always been unbearably sensitive. She murmured just above a whisper, ‘That’s wonderful. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.’

  She caressed the nape of his neck, ran her fingers through his hair and grasped it tight, pulling at it as her excitement intensified. From there her hands found their way under his jacket and began to caress his flesh. She tore off tie, jacket, shirt, and Hadon crushed their naked bodies together in an embrace. He held her tight, two bodies entwined, until he could bring his passion under some control. When he released her it was just enough to step back and admire her breasts. Once more he caressed them. His fingers tweaked and teased the raunchy dark nimbuses, pinched hard at the nipples. He liked watching her. She was trying so hard to control herself but her face, and the way she squirmed, gave her away. She was coming and wanted more and stronger orgasms. He wanted total out-of-control sex for them, erotic oblivion.

  Anoushka’s hands had been busy, wrapped around his semi-erect penis. He knew now that she thrived on sex. She was a lady who knew not only how to handle it but had a passion for it. The manner in which she toyed with the knob of his penis – teased at the eye with the tip of her fingernail, the rhythm she used in her fondling of him, pressure and release, to stimulate and excite, sliding, grasping; hands, fingers used with as delicate a touch as a feather’s, up and down the shaft, the shiver of delight that went through her when she cupped his scrotum, they were messages relating her lust for phallus and the joy she derived from her own sexual cravings.

  There was a knock at the stateroom door. It was as if Anoushka had not heard it, or if she did, didn’t care because she continued to caress Hadon. He smiled at her, kissed the tip of her nose, and with much less haste now raised the bodice of her gown to cover her breasts. He adjusted their clothes so that they looked presentable and reluctantly removed his hands. He led Anoushka to a chair and took one opposite her. Finding it impossible to answer the door in his erect condition, which showed no signs of abating, he called from the chair for whoever it was to enter.

  The cabin steward and a waiter entered the room, the waiter carrying a silver platter covered with a large domed cover, plates, coffee pot, and demi-tasse cups. Once they had set the table where the red roses were displayed in all their glory, and had placed chairs there for Anoushka and Hadon, the two men stood at attention. One whisked the domed lid away. Baked Alaska appeared, a confection of ice cream covered in meringue and baked to a golden colour.

  ‘Something extra from the chef, his own special addition to the traditional Baked Alaska.’ With that the waiter poured over the domed pudding a thin cassis sauce and struck a match. Blue flames leapt into the air and the scent of blackcurrants filled the room.

  After the right comments from Anoushka and a wry smile from Hadon, the flames finally spluttered out. The waiter asked, ‘Shall I serve, sir?’ and held a chair out for Anoushka.

  The cabin steward was more astute. He suggested, ‘Or would you care to serve, sir?’

  ‘I think we can manage, thank you.’

  The two men retreated and once the door was closed Anoushka turned to Hadon. ‘That was quite a performance, and the Baked Alaska looks marvellous, but why did you answer the door?’ Disappointment echoed in her voice.

  ‘Because you wanted Baked Alaska.’

  ‘But I wanted sex more.’

  ‘You can have both. Baked Alaska does not preclude sex,’ he told her as he rose from the chair and went across the room to her. Taking her by the hands, he pulled her from the chair and up tight against him. He held her there for a few seconds and then swung her off her feet and into his arms.

  Hadon carried her to the bedroom door, where he stopped. Anoushka reached down and turned the door knob and he kicked the door open and walked with her to the bed. There he stood her on her feet. He had hastily put on his shirt and jacket when they had been interrupted by the arrival of the Baked Alaska. Now he wasted no time removing them while gazing intently down at her. He needed no words. His eyes instructed her to disrobe.

  Naked, Hadon appeared much younger than his years. A fit body, sensual, exciting, and not the least frightening despite the exceptionally well-endowed and very erect penis, and the large scrotum hanging low against his muscular thighs. Anoushka’s heart raced with desire for the power and beauty of such a phallus. Merely to imagine how it would feel to have such a sexual organ as his ease itself into her, take possession of her, to be riven again and again by Hadon, was thrilling beyond measure. Seeing this staff pulsating with life and sexual vigour was to incite even stronger yearnings in Anoushka. Such imaginings and the sight of him standing before her were just enough to whet her appetite, to titillate her for all things carnal with this man.

  How good it felt, such overpowering sexual desire, what excitement this giving oneself over to free-wheeling sex with a stranger. How had she not realised she had missed that during all those years with Robert? She reached out and took Hadon’s hands in hers and placed them on her breasts, directing them how to caress. His touch was to electrify her further. She placed them under her breasts and held them there so that they could feel the weight of them in his hands. She pressed his hands hard against her own flesh, wanting to feel even more the sensation that his hands could instill in her. His fingers bit hard into her flesh and she felt luscious, scary erotic pain, lust. She drew his hands away from her breasts, now moving them over her back, down over her bottom. He had no further need for her to direct him now. He took over.

  He was a voluptuary, that was clear from the way he enjoyed the fleshy but tight orbs of her bottom, caressing between their cheeks. Clearly he liked the curves, the weight and shape, so sensuous and perfect, something further to excite his own lust for sex with this woman. She widened her stance and with searching fingers he explored the hidden recesses, so private and mysterious, the essence and heart of female sexuality, except for moments like this when a woman wanted to share that part of herself with a man. He wanted more and found more, a tight place and past that a moist and lusciously soft slit: fleshy, satiny, long, slim cunt lips, a bud ripe for the taking. She shivered with delight.

  But Anoushka wanted to be in control of this glorious fondling. Quite gently she removed his hands and placed them over her hips, indicating that she wanted more caressing, for him to know all of her body. Hadon obliged Anoushka with many kisses, and always the roaming hands. It was easy to give her what she wanted, liking as he did the feel of her, all of her: the slight swell of the belly, the very blonde almost white silky triangle of pubic hair. He spread his fingers through it, and combed it, and grasped the fleshy mound beneath. Once more she took control and directed his hand to the cleft of that voluptuous Mound of Venus, so seductively captivating to men.

  He slipped searching fingers between the warm lips, even more moist now from the light, almost imperceptible orgasms she had been enjoying. This time she did not remove his fingers. Size, reaction to touch, a clitoris used to agitation … this was a noble female sexual organ that gave untold pleasure.

  She was unexpectedly free sexually. A lady and a libertine, or a lady wanting to be one. Everything about her sang a song of sex, lust, hunger for sexual oblivion with no holds barred. This once wife and mother had true sexual audacity.

  It was confirmed when she very slowly, wanting him to savour every bit of what she was doing, turned round with her back to him and bent over. She spread open the cheeks of her bottom to give him an exquisite view of female genitalia. He was mesmerised by the voluptuous act, enraged with lust, throbbing for Anoushka’s cunt.

  She was beautiful, unbelievably raunchy and provocative, like a lovely, exotic female of the wood, an animal in heat lusting for cock and sperm. She was offering herself, teasing and taunting him with open cunt. But she wasn’t an animal.
This was a luscious lady, naked and desperate for sex and to come alive in lust. A lady with a voluptuous body, long and shapely legs encased in cream silk stockings that culminated high on her thighs and were held tightly in place by a wide band of white lace. A lady standing in high-heeled tarty shoes who was used to playing the role of part wife, part whore. One of that rare and special kind of woman who knows how to keep a man with her cunt.

  Hadon was impressed and felt himself slipping under her sexual spell. He placed his hands on her waist; she moved back against him until their bodies touched. She reached back and wrapped her arms round him and leaned that little bit more into him, rubbing herself up and down against him.

  He caressed her back and then her bottom, and beneath that, and without ceremony, pulled apart as far as was possible her cunt lips and inserted the knob of his penis against her. He slid it up and down and round the opening and felt the shiver of excitement rend her body as he pushed hard to insert the head of his penis inside her. He teased it by gentle withdrawal and forceful thrusts, always sliding that little bit more of himself inside her. She was tightly wrapped round the tip of his cock and it felt sublime for both of them. Moist as she was, it was not enough: cream or butter, saliva, oil of jasmine or gardenia to make her ready for the more easy passage of such an ample penis was what was needed. He liked her courage for wanting all of him, no matter how. He kissed her on the nape of the neck.

  ‘Great sex takes time. You’re not a woman to be rushed,’ he whispered in her ear, a husky lust in his voice.