by Yossi Porat
the music, emanating heat and pleasure, totally immersed in herself and her body. She let her left hand remove her camisole slowly, revealing a shining white shoulder. Slowly she revealed the other shoulder as the nightie fell to the floor. She was left with her bra and panties, her black pumps on her feet. She was stunning.
Her rear was round and shining, flawless in shape. Raphael felt himself grow hard as he remembered the pleasures of the morning with this beautiful creature. “Look what you’re doing to me,” pointing downward. Deborah was in heaven as she removed her panties, opened her bra and let her pear-shaped breasts free. Nude but for her shoes, motionless, she seemed a Greek goddess. Removing her shoes, she entered the Jacuzzi, approaching Raphael. He felt as if all his dreams were coming true.
“The jewelry is beautiful,” he breathed. He reached out his hand confidently, examining the chain, closing in on her. Deborah wrapped herself around him, thrusting her right breast in his mouth. He bit her playfully, moving quickly to the left breast, endlessly arousing her. Deborah’s nipples, their color rich and dark, became more and more erect. She felt her quickening pulse beating in her temples like a drum. She gently removed her breast from Raphael’s’ mouth, turned her back to him and fell to her knees. Raphael got to his knees and entered her from behind. Deborah’s breath stopped from the depth of Raphael’s penetration, and she felt he was filling her up completely. The jasmine oil eased his movements inside her, and she put her own hand on herself, stroking herself in her sweet spot, first softly and then with more urgency. The combination of her hand and Raphael’s rhythmic movements inside her led her to a shuddering climax, begging for more. Deborah felt like a colorful, soaring bird, swooning aloft on high.
“Keep going!” she ordered in a forceful voice. “Don’t ever stop!”
Raphael continued his strokes, matching Deborah, who grabbed his left hand
and used it to replace her finger. Raphael used his member and his hand, causing her to lose herself completely. She sank into the most pleasurable depths, colored with flame, feeling as if she were on a roller-coaster. An instant before his climax, Raphael pulled his member out of her vagina and wordlessly thrust it into her anus. Deborah practically stopped breathing. Size is important, she thought to herself. She bent her upper body, lifted her rear and allowed Raphael to climax inside her, feeling surprisingly relaxed and free as he continued to play with her erect clitoris while his left hand circled her nipples. Raphael cried out in pleasure as he came, holding her close as his shudders rocked him. Waves of heat engulfed her and she closed her eyes, completely intoxicated, forgetting everything but this moment.
Raphael came out of her and Deborah turned to face him, hugging and kissing his face and lips, holding tightly to his body and feeling completely dependent on him. “That was incredible!” she sighed with pleasure. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Raphael gently kissed her eyes, her lips, and her face. “That’s just the beginning – I’m already fantasizing about the next time.” He continued to stroke her face and neck, sending shocks of pleasure through her melting body.
Deborah suddenly remembered that she had promised to be home by five-thirty, and stole a glance at her watch: she had only one hour. She quickly exited the Jacuzzi, kissed Raphael hard on the lips, passionately biting his upper lip, and left the room. His upper lip was bleeding and he hoped it would stop before he had to explain anything when he got home.
Reaching her office by taxi, she quickly entered her car and drove home, listening to music with a heavy beat, causing her blood to beat in matching rhythm. She thought pleasantly of the afternoon’s adventure, but she had a twinge of confusion at her newly exhibited behavior. She stopped at a candy store on the way. When she entered the house, Lance greeted her warmly.
“I got a phone message from Volvo with an offer of an upgrade and a free vacation in America,” she told him in a businesslike manner, careful of showing any lingering excitement from her afternoon’s activities. “So did I,” Lance replied. “What do you think? Should we do it?” She answered positively, and with a proud glance, told him of Raphael’s plans for the Rome branch. There was a cash bonus from the office, and she had indulged herself with new lingerie and shoes. “Don’t I deserve it?” she asked with a huge smile.
Deborah opened her bag and removed the new Romanson watch, holding it out to Lance. “And this is for you, darling.” She pulled out the roll of bills and said, “This is for the new cars. And I brought chocolate, too!” She hugged Lance, holding him to the length of her whole body, kissing him softly on the lips. Feeling him becoming quickly aroused, she patted him on the shoulder and went upstairs to change her clothes.
Although he had heard of the wise belief that expensive gifts were usually a compensation for someone’s bad behavior, Lance felt none of this. He was happy, feeling that his life, and especially his wife, was perfect. He went up to their bedroom, and felt her soft kiss on his cheek. Suddenly he wondered “Why didn’t she kiss me on the lips, the way she always does?”
Chapter Five
At five-forty that afternoon, Morris reached his home in Camden Town and opened his blue front door. The brisk wind outside almost knocked him over, and he thought of the strong winds that sometimes used to blow footballs the wrong way in his boyhood games. Closing the door behind him, he knew that Anne had not yet retuned from work. She usually got home at around seven, so he knew he had about an hour to prepare his surprise for her.
He called the local Japanese restaurant, Tokyo Diner on Arlington Street, ordering a table for two for eight that evening. Then he called the flower shop, the Phoenix Garden on Stacey Street, the store that always had beautiful bouquets and gave off a lovely scent to the whole neighborhood. He asked how long it would take them to deliver a bouquet of red flowers to Number 46 Stockley Road. “Thirty minutes,” was the reply. He asked for five bouquets, price no obstacle. He slammed down the receiver. “This isn’t like me,” he thought to himself.
Morris went up to the darkened bedroom, where the bed was still unmade from the morning. He straightened out the sheets, folded the blankets, fluffed up the pillows. Then he brought out all his purchases. He noticed Anne’s matronly nightgown, the one that reached down to her knees, thrown on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and smiled to himself. Purring like a cat awaiting his next meal, he hid the lingerie and the new nightgown under Anne’s pillow, while the sheer lilac robe he spread invitingly on top of the pillow. He opened the bedroom window, letting in fresh evening air. The dank bedroom filled him with sadness; the narrow bed, the old-fashioned reading lamps, giving off their pale, murky light, but especially the ripped lampshade, a reminder of an old fight with Anne. The old clothes and the thin towels hanging in the small closet seemed to him to belong to a couple at the beginning of their careers, just waiting for something better. In fact, the whole apartment felt this way to him. The faded wallpaper reminded him that he had promised Anne to replace it. All in all, he felt like they were just mired in this dull life, not moving on, not reaching any higher.
The ring of the front doorbell had him leaping down the stairs two at a time. The sweat-covered delivery boy held the bouquets out to Morris, who asked him in. “That will be seventy-five pounds, sir,” the boy said politely. Morris drew out a 100-pound note and gave it to the delivery boy, who put the flowers on the floor of the room and left the house, smiling from ear to ear. Morris suddenly remembered his last visit to the garage with his car, arguing with the mechanic about a thirty-pound charge, and a strange feeling came over him. He felt that something was not right, but he could not figure out exactly what it was.
He found four non-matching vases that had all known better days, and arranged four of the bouquets in them. “Life could be wonderful,” he thought to himself. He put three of the vases in the sitting room, and one by the entrance to the flat. As he passed through the hall, he looked with pleasure at his model ships, thinking that in time his children, and maybe e
ven his grandchildren would enjoy helping him build them. First he admired the small model of the USS New Jersey, one of the largest ships in the world. Then his eye was taken by the model of the Roman galley with its two giant red sails stamped with the seal of the Roman Empire. The sails were arranged so that it seemed that they were perennially filled with air – a touch that constantly delighted him. He thought to himself that he must devote more time to this wonderful hobby.
He took the final bouquet and went upstairs to the bedroom. There he removed the gold ribbon that held the flowers together, and scattered the flowers over the bed like an exotic fan. The fresh smell of roses filled the air, reminding him of how much Anne loved red roses. Usually he could afford to give them to her only on birthdays or anniversaries. He hoped she would be as happy today as she always was on those occasions.
He removed six flowers and went to the bathroom, arranging them on a large towel. He polished the mirror, set down five flowers in the sink, and one in the corner of the mirror, and left, satisfied.
On the way downstairs he turned on the stereo, putting on a disc of Sinatra that Anne loved to dance to. There was a bottle of four-year-old Cabernet Sauvignon in the kitchen cupboard. He opened it and set it out on the kitchen table to breathe. How he loved to watch Anne slowly drinking a glass of wine! Two wine glasses were set on the table by the bottle, and he rinsed out one of them, feeling that it was not sparkling enough for the occasion. Morris felt proud of all he had done.
He took out a bag of walnuts, pouring them into a small wooden bowl. The fresh smell was very pleasant and he remembered their first trip to the Camden market, searching for bargains, walking hand-in-hand, so much in love. When he reached the sitting room he heard Anne’s key in the door.
“What’s up?” she asked, taking in all the flowers and the wine. Her eyebrows rose in wonder.
“We’re celebrating,” Morris smiled broadly. “I love you so much!”
“But what are we celebrating?” Anne was answered with only a smile from Morris.
Anne hugged Morris, taking in the wonderful smell of the roses. “It’s so beautiful,” Anne breathed. “I love surprises.” Morris poured the wine and gave Anne her glass, along with a light kiss. “Cheers!” Anne slowly sipped her wine, enjoying the moment. “We’ve got a table for eight o’clock at the Tokyo Diner,” he continued. Anne ran upstairs, blowing him a kiss.” What’s happening to my Morris?” she asked herself.
“Oh my God, you’re completely crazy!” she screamed, running back downstairs. She jumped on Morris, hugging his neck with her hand, wrapping her legs around him. “I’m not used to such expensive gifts. Did you get a raise? A promotion?” Morris kissed her gently, breathing her in, and she kissed him
back, turning to go back upstairs. At the last moment, she turned to Morris. “I love you, Morris, so much, but I must ask you: do we have enough money for all this?”
“We’ve always lived so simply, haven’t we?” his face suddenly serious. “Why shouldn’t we allow ourselves some fun once in a while?” Anne smiled, feeling sorry for pestering him, and Morris breathed more easily.
Morris followed her up to the bedroom. Anne removed her clothes and entered the shower. Morris meanwhile removed all his clothes and lay down on the bed, thinking sweet thoughts of love.
“Too bad she doesn’t look like that woman Deborah that I met in the store,” he thought, picturing Deborah sweeping her long, sensual fingers through her hair. He napped, but Anne’s soft touch in his hair woke him, and he got up to shower. Leaving the bathroom, he was thrilled to see Anne in her new lingerie, which fitted her perfectly and gave her a mysterious, alluring air. Anne slowly turned around and Morris remembered the first time he saw her without clothes, coming towards him with her perfect, smooth body. His blood was rising, but he could not help himself from showing his tension. Anne pretended not to notice, but somewhere inside her she felt a warning twinge.
Morris kissed Anne, feeling her soft lips moving on his, while his hands massaged the back of her neck. “We’ve got to be at the restaurant in twenty minutes” he murmured, worried as usual about being on time. They left their house in an embrace, walking quickly in the direction of the restaurant. Morris felt energized and hopeful. On the way, Anne once again tried to discover what Morris was feeling, but Morris was uncooperative. She decided to let it go for the evening, to enjoy herself and to leave the probing for another day.
They were seated at the desirable corner table. The quiet background music
and the lovely Japanese flower arrangements relaxed them both. Being unfamiliar with Japanese food, they left all the decisions in the hands of their kimono-clad Japanese waitress.
They sipped at their warm sake, and Morris closed his eyes in pleasure. The sashimi was arranged beautifully, and their waitress asked if they knew how to use chopsticks.
“No,” they both smiled. She smilingly offered to teach them. “It imitates the beak of a bird,” she explained. “You must hold the bottom stick steady on your thumb while your finger holds it on top. That’s it, very good! Now the second stick rests on the bottom one, with the ends parallel to each other. Your finger moves the top stick up and down. Try, it’s easy.”
Morris and Anne laughed and dropped their food, laughed and tried again. They knew they were acting like young lovers, feeding each other with their chopsticks. The sake, poured again and again into their small cups, did its work, and they felt light and airy.
They were fed more and more beautiful Japanese dishes – shrimps, chicken in ginger, eggplants arranged on wasabi, steamed broccoli. The exquisite arrangement and the exotic taste of the Japanese food made Morris feel light-headed, almost faint. The main course was tempura, salmon roll, and Vietnamese salad with glass noodles. Their desert was presented to them on the house: banana, nuts and cinnamon wrapped in a sweet dough, with coconut sauce. It was delicious, and they both felt completely satisfied. There did remain a niggling feeling in Morris’s stomach, which he tried to ignore by concentrating on Anne.
Morris paid the bill, leaving a more than generous tip for the waitress, who responded with a traditional Japanese bow and an untraditional grin on her face. Morris took Anne by the hand and led her out of the restaurant, where the brisk air served only to strengthen the inner warmth that both were feeling.
On their way home, the wind blew at their backs, hurrying them along. A feeling of loss of control angered Morris. “Have I ever really been my own master?” he thought angrily. They continued to walk, both of them careful not to ruin the warm feelings left by their dinner. Anne was thinking how Morris seemed to have changed overnight, becoming a spendthrift with no regard for the value of money. She wondered where the money was coming from, but she was afraid to upset him by probing too much. Morris thought how he was being influenced by something out of his control, and he was also afraid to probe too deeply, not knowing what he would discover.
After coming home, Anne announced that she was going to get ready for bed. Morris meanwhile lay down on the bed in his underwear, full of anticipation. A worrying thought, like a fly buzzing around his ear, kept coming to him: “What was I doing? Why had I stolen the money?” He tried squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to get rid of these troubling thoughts. Anne entered the bedroom, wearing the beautiful lingerie that set off her perfect figure beautifully. She was feeling aroused and ready for Morris. Turning out the lights, she lay down next to Morris, stroking him gently on his chest. “Morris,” she whispered. But there was no answer, just Morris’s light snore.
Anne looked at Morris and tried to wake him up by caressing the length of his body, but it did no good. He moaned lightly in his sleep and that was it. Anne smiled and decided to try to fall asleep as well. She thought of their lovely evening, but underneath, she still had that doubt which left her tossing and turning. “Maybe he is like the other policemen,” she wondered. “Could he be grafting on the side?” A sharp pain stabbed at her heart and she felt guilty for even h
aving such thoughts about her lovely husband, who tried so hard and had never gone off the straight path. “I must find out what’s going on,” was her last thought before she finally fell asleep.
Chapter Six
“So how’s the Beta going?” Adam rubbed his Dogue de Bourdeaux’s great head. Andrew was deep into a complicated Sudoku, tapping his pencil on the table in irritation.
“It’s going well,” Andrew shrugged. “We had a slight problem yesterday when 1002 and 1003 met each other and had a brief conversation.”
“What?!” Adam exploded. “How could this happen? I thought you were in control!”
“We don’t know what they discussed, since our reception was not optimal at that moment.”
“This is a disaster!” Adam was devastated. “Imagine if this happens when our real mission is on! We’ll be discovered! You’ve got to make extremely clear to the programmers that this kind of mistake must never happen again! I want daily reports on their progress!” He looked almost like a crazy old man – hair pointed in every direction, forehead wrinkled in worry.
“Relax, Adam,” Andrew drawled. “I’ve got it all under control.”