Kondar Max’s Month of Love

By Cristiano Caffieri

A Brief Preamble
I was born in the little town of Bünde in Germany and I was just two when my family emigrated to Canada. After I graduated from high school in Toronto my father thought that I might go to university and become an engineer like him but he thought wrong. My interest was in books, in fact, I spent all my spare time and all my money frequenting second-hand bookshops all around the city.

On the day of my graduation ceremony, I told my parents that I’d like to work for a year before thinking about a degree. They reluctantly went along with my plan, thinking that once I’d been in the workplace for a while I would come to my senses. However, I happened to find a job with a bookbinder, who, amongst other things restored antique books. I loved the work and I became very good at it.

I’m not sure if you believe in fate but when the company I was working for closed down and I had to move back in with my parents temporarily, my whole life changed. This was due, in no small part to Angela. She was the daughter of a friend of my mother’s from Germany; she was in Toronto on business and had taken over my old room. Consequently, I was relegated to the basement.

She was about thirty-five years old, fashionable; sophisticated and was very sexy. For the next couple weeks, she took the family out including my girlfriend Zoe and treated us to meals and even bought us all gifts.

Angela had an important job with a German government agency based in Strasbourg in France where the European Union has its parliament. She said if I’d had a better command of German and French she could probably have gotten me a job there. We talked a lot about my future and then without warning, she suggested that I should fly to Strasbourg and stay with her for a while.

“It would be a great experience and I could drive you to Bünde to visit your grandparents once in a while.”

My mother’s jaw dropped a mile. I could see that the idea of her son staying with an attractive divorcee was not something she could swallow. However, to me, it sounded like a dream come true, and I was soon totting up my assets to see whether I could afford it. I had no need to worry, when my mother was out of earshot Angela whispered that she would take care of my airfare.

The following week, after several grueling arguments with my parents, my younger sister and my girlfriend, I was off to Strasbourg and what I hoped would be an exciting new life.

Angela and I arrived in Paris this morning. It was pretty early and so I thought we might look around a bit but she was anxious to get back to Strasbourg. After we’d cleared customs and immigration we located her car in the long-term parking and off we drove. We arrived in Strasbourg around 2.30pm, having stopped for a brunch on the way. Angela’s apartment is on the Quai Saint-Bataliers overlooking a tree-shaded canal. It’s an old building but very well preserved. I am most impressed with the layout of her place – it would be no exaggeration to say it’s luxurious.

Unfortunately, the stairway is rather steep and because I had brought an excessive amount of luggage I had to make two trips. When I entered the apartment puffing and blowing for the second time Angela already had some coffee sitting on the table.

“Sit down and have a rest,” she teased, “When you’re as old as me you will learn to travel light.”

While I sat and drank my coffee she tended her flower boxes that had been forced to fend for themselves for a few weeks. She had those glass things that let the water in a bit at a time but they were all dry. As she leaned out of the window I couldn’t help but notice what great legs she had and she was probably aware of that because she wore quite short skirts. At one point she leaned so far forward I could see her white panties and I almost spilled my coffee down my shirt as I lost all concentration. After she’d finished her chores she washed her hands and sat down with me.

“I only have one bedroom,” she announced, “So you’ll have to sleep on the sofa.”

I was a bit surprised that someone would invite you to travel thousands of miles to stay with them when they don’t really have room for you. However, her next statement was even more astounding.

“If you’re not comfortable,” she smiled, “I have a very large bed.” She said it in all seriousness and then went back to sipping on her coffee. I was too taken aback to comment and there was no further conversation until she got up and suggested that I should get a shower.

“And perhaps you could dig out something nice to wear, she added, “I’m going to take you out for dinner later.”

She’s given me some space in the bedroom closet which doesn’t seem too convenient but I’m living rent free (I think?), so I can’t complain. When I’d showered and finished unpacking, Angela, feeling a little jet lag, went for a nap and I decided to do the same. I lay on the sofa and within minutes I was asleep.

I was awakened by Angela poking me in the shoulder. “Put something on decent and we’ll go out to dinner,” she said. Looking up I almost gasped as she was wearing a gold top with a plunging neckline and the shortest black skirt I’d ever seen.

She poked me a second time, “Come on – get a move on I’m starving.”

In the bedroom I put on the blazer and pants I sorted out earlier, they were creased up a little but I figured my body heat would straighten them out. However, when I stepped into the living room and she turned around to look at me, I could tell by the expression on her face that I’d barely passed muster.

We got into the car and headed up for the Restaurant au Crocodile on the Rue de l’Outre. It turned out to be a great place – very romantic in fact. As soon as we sat at the table she ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon and as my French is not very good she said she’d select from the menu for me.

We started with chestnut veloute, followed by lobster, frog legs, scallops, and truffles. I have never eaten frogs legs before and I approached them with a certain amount of trepidation but they actually tasted quite good. Although I was feeling quite full we moved on to beef tenderloin and this was followed by cheese and a chocolate dessert – all accompanied by a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-pape.

I only drank one glass as I have a relatively low tolerance to alcohol. Angela, however, chased her champagne, and the rest of the red wine with three glasses of liqueur. When we got up from the table she was feeling no pain and I didn’t want her to drive me back. After a short argument, she handed me the keys and then, not having a clue where I was going I attempted to make my way back home. She helped me to navigate a little but her slurred speech made her somewhat difficult to understand.

When we did arrive at the apartment I had to literally carry her up the stairs. Once inside I headed for the bedroom and with some difficulty, I got her onto the bed. At that moment she raised herself up and asked, “Would you like to fuck me Konrad?” and promptly fell back and went to sleep.

I wrapped the bed cover around her the best I could and then I looked round to see what I cover I could find for myself. In the end, I just took my winter coat out of the closet and managed with that for the night.

I woke up around 8.30 this morning and searched the kitchen in an effort to find something for breakfast. There was coffee and I managed to find a can of evaporated milk as I hate to drink it black. There was some bread and some butter in the kitchen so I was able to make toast.

When Angela got up at 9 o’clock she looked like shit. I offered her some toast but all she wanted was coffee. She then asked me if I would go shopping for some groceries, with her eyes looking like piss holes in the snow she managed to scrawl out a list partly in English and partly in French. She then directed me to her purse and when I handed it to her she threw a bunch of bills at me and told me to get a taxi to Marche U on Rue des Bouchers. She then made her way back to the bedroom and, still wearing all of her finery, flopped back into bed.

I made my way to the supermarket and instead of struggling with French I used German as this border city, that was once part of Germany, seems to a large extent to be bilingual. When I got back to the apartment it was nearly eleven. Angela was still sleeping with the bedroom door open.

Taking out my laptop I looked for an easy recipe so that I could prepare lunch and surprise my host. I came across an interesting one for a stew that seemed to be simple to follow and by noon it was simmering on the stove. At 12.30 Angela staggered from the bedroom once again, and just as quickly went back in, saying she was going to shower.

Around one o’clock she reappeared not only looking like her old self but wrapped in an ultra-short robe that didn’t leave much to the imagination. She sat down at the table and I proceeded to ladle out the stew and put a plate of fresh rolls on the table along with a jug of orange juice.

Angela took a taste of the soup and raised her eyebrows, “This is quite good – you’ll make somebody a good husband one of these days.”

I told her that one of these years would be a better expression.

“So you still want to keep sowing your wild oats,” she said, then paused for a few spoons of stew and continued, “I don’t suppose Zoe would approve of you sowing them here in Strasbourg would she?”

I explained that this trip had pretty well-finished things for us and that I was now a free agent again. Angela finished her food, wiped her mouth with a napkin and then stood up letting her flimsy robe drop to the floor.

From the first time I saw her I knew there was something good beneath those sexy clothes of hers but I was not prepared for just how beautiful she was. Her breasts were firm and cone-shaped like those of a much younger woman and casting my eyes down I saw that her flower was not only shaved but perfectly formed.

“It’s time for dessert,” she smiled, taking my hand and leading me towards the bedroom. When we reached her bed she just flung herself on it,

I was a bit shocked by the abruptness of her approach but I was not going to argue and turn down this gorgeous nubile body that lay before me. Zipping off my shirt was not a problem but I had such a hard-on I had to take more care with my pants.

As soon as I was naked Angela sat up in bed rolled her eyes and said, “My, my – you are a big boy!” then she very quickly slid down the bed onto the floor and took me into her mouth as she dug her sharp nails into my buttocks.

She not only moved to and from on me but her tongue kept made circles at the same time. It wasn’t long before I was feeling the urge to come and so I eased her away from me and drew her up to her feet. For a while, we just embraced and let our tongues entwine but then I re-positioned her so I was sitting on the bed with her standing before me. Those two beautifully shaped breasts were just at the right level, mere inches away from my mouth. I slipped my hands around her waist and brought her forward until I was able to reach her hardened nipples with the tip of my tongue. I flicked them gentle for a while before taking them between my lips and sucking them.

As Angela started to moan I worked the trick she used on me and slipped from the bed down between her legs. I was soon exploring her pussy, pulling back the lips with my fingers and licking her crevices with my tongue. She began to gyrate her hips as I delved deeper into her moist recess and then crying “Fuck,” at the top of her voice she began to tremble from head to toe.

I quickly laid her on the bed, opened up her legs and penetrated her flower with one powerful thrust. She had worked me up to the point where my balls were aching and I had the strongest possible desire to copulate. Angela was just as anxious as I was and urged me on as I increased my strokes and she moved her ass in time with them.

I had her arms pinned to the pillow and as I looked down at her gorgeous breasts moving from side to side I became more and more excited. It seemed as though my balls were on fire as I made that last desperate push and as she screamed her legs tightened up around me as if she wanted me to stay there forever.

As we both lay there gasping for breath Angela took my hand and snuggled her warm body against mine. “That was incredible,” she said, “I don’t think you should sleep on the sofa tonight.”

And I didn’t.

I was the first one up again and I made breakfast, and I made lunch. It seems as though Angela is not the domesticated type. It’s fortunate that I had to fend for myself for a number of years and I don’t have a problem rustling up a meal.

Apparently, she had a part-time maid until a few weeks ago but there was a serious disagreement and the woman quit. When I mentioned going out to find a job today she suggested that I could hang around the apartment for a while and she would pay me to keep things clean and tidy. What she’s really saying of course is she wants me to take on the maid’s role and that’s not what I came to Europe for. However, I thought I’d play it cool until I found a suitable position.

Angela must have money to burn as we went out to dinner again tonight. After some deliberation, we ended up at a restaurant called Chez Yvonne on Rue Sanglier. It wasn’t quite as elegant as Au Crocodile but we had a great meal. My host ordered for me as though I was an idiot incapable of reading a menu in French but she paid so I guess that’s OK. We both had the duck and we only had one glass of house wine each.

“I have to work in the morning,” she said, “So I don’t want to be hungover.”

Although we slept together and I did make an overture – she was not in the mood for sex and so I had to try and sleep with a big hard-on.

Angela woke me up before she went into the bathroom and ask me to make some coffee and rolls for breakfast. When I told her we didn’t have any rolls she told me to take the car and go to the bakery on the corner of Quai des Bataliers and Rue Munch and get some.

It was just a few blocks and I grumbled to myself all the way. I hate being treated like a fucking errand boy.

The bakery not only turned out to be really nice but I met an attractive American girl who was having difficulty with her French. Even though mine is not that good I did manage to help her out. We talked just for a few minutes outside the shop and I learned that her name was Taylor Woodrow and that she had just arrived to stay with her father who was working with some American company here.

Back at the apartment I dutifully made breakfast after which Angela gave me a quick kiss on the cheek like as if we were an old married couple and told me that she’d be back at 5.30.

“I’ve left you some money on the dressing table,” she smiled, “Buy something nice for supper.”

When I was alone I started to feel a bit of a jerk. Why should I object to doing things for someone who had been so kind to me? I guess it’s the way she treats me like a child sometimes – I’ve never liked being bossed around – I suppose I have a bit of a chip on my shoulders.

Back on track, I cleaned the place up a bit and then went to the Marche U again and bought some supplies including pork chops as I intended to treat Angela to one of my favorite Italian recipes. I also picked up some wine and a selection of cheeses as I fancied that for my lunch.

I bought a paper this afternoon and did my best to read the classifieds in French with little success so I went online but didn’t find anything of interest there either. In the end, I took a nap.

My supper received a good response and Angela even helped to load the dishwasher. When that was done she asked me if I played cards. I said I played poker.

“What about strip poker?” she laughed.

I said I hadn’t actually played that because I normally played with a bunch of guys and had no desire to see them naked.

“OK – let’s play,” she said and quickly produced a pack of cards.

Of course, I’ve seen her naked but I was just as anxious to see her naked again. I also thought there might be a bit of tail involved.

I’m not a bad player and so it wasn’t long before she had to take off her top, followed by her bra, which she insisted I took off for her. Although I had to remove my shirt and socks, she was soon completely naked and I was clearly the winner.

“Well,” she laughed, “You win so name your prize.”

I thought for a moment then I suggested we had sex standing up.

“Wow – you’re quite an adventurous guy – I like that,” she said.

We started by embracing and kissing in the middle of the room and of course, I couldn’t keep my hands off those perfectly formed breasts. However, when it came to inserting my now large throbbing boner it wasn’t so easy. Angela is a good three inches shorter than me and after a couple of attempts at bending my knees and failing to make a connection I took one of the cushions off the sofa and invited her to stand on it.

She started to giggle at my efforts which killed the mood a little but when I did slide it in successfully she just gasped and held on to me. I put my hands on the cheeks of her firm round bum and started to move in and out slowly. She closed her eyes and seemed to be in a state of ecstasy. I gradually increased the pace until our bodies were crashing against each other and she was breathing heavy and biting her lip.

It began to get fast and furious and although my legs were feeling a bit weak I kept going until I came and we both fell onto the sofa groaning and moaning. We held on to each other as tight as it was humanly possible and she kissed me with great passion, so much so that we both rolled off the sofa unto the floor. Here she went on the attack straddled over me she began to perform fellatio. I hadn’t gone completely limp and quite soon I was back to having a giant hard-on.

As she had her back to me I was able to turn her on to her side and maneuver into the 69 position. From that moment on the intensity grew for both of us. As we consumed each other with unbridled passion I could feel the climax was about to break and when it did I’m sure they could hear our cries as far away as Paris.

We spent the rest of the evening cuddled on the sofa watching a TV show I could barely understand but it didn’t seem to matter.

Angela took off at about 8.30 and I tidied the place up intending to go out job hunting. However, about 9.30 I heard a key turning in the lock and thinking it might be a burglar I armed myself with a poker from the fireplace and stood ready. I was quite nervous as the door slowly opened and a tall gaunt-looking man about forty, carrying a suitcase, entered.

When he saw me he just froze. “O – I’m Angela’s ex-husband –Barry Walsh,” he said with a strong English accent, “I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”

I guess I just stood there with my mouth open as he extended his hand, “Angela and I have an arrangement that I can stay here when I’m in Strasbourg – I travel a lot with my job you see.”

After I’d put the poker down to shake his hand I did manage to tell him my name but to some extent, I was still in shock at somebody just walking into the apartment. I was also concerned about the idea of me sleeping with Angela while her husband slept on the sofa.

The prospect didn’t seem to worry Barry as he dumped his suitcase telling me that he had some calls to make and that he would be back about six. “Dinner’s on me tonight,” he said as he closed the door.

After lunch, I went out job hunting. I had noticed in the paper that there was an Employment Agency in the Rue des Hallebardes. The owner, Madame Belanger, was very pleasant and spoke perfect English but didn’t offer me much encouragement as she said there was very little demand for people who didn’t speak fluent French. However, she took Angela’s telephone number and said she would give me a call if anything came up.

When I got back out on the street I bought yet another paper and eventually sat down at a café on the Place de la Cathedrale, drank a great cup of coffee and browsed the classifieds. Didn’t find a thing.

When I got back to the apartment Angela was already there as she had quit early and when I told her about Barry she was furious, “I’ve got to get my key back from that asshole – he’s too fucking cheap to get a hotel room.”

It was obvious that when he came in at six there was going to be an argument and I just wished that there had been someplace to go so as to avoid getting involved. Unfortunately, the apartment was just too small and just didn’t afford me the luxury of a hiding place.

After the two ex’s had vented their anger at each other it all became very civilized and Barry was as good as his word and took us both to dinner. We ended up at a very nice restaurant called L’Alsace à Table, on Rue Francs Bourgeois.

The only problem was the place had romantic significance for Barry and Angela – apparently, they met there seven years ago. Because of this, for a good part of the evening, I was left out of the conversation as they reminisced about old times.

I began to realize that I had developed an emotional attachment to Angela as some of the intimate details of their relationship made me feel quite uncomfortable – but there was worse to come. When we got back to the apartment she asked me if I would mind sleeping on the sofa as Barry had a bad back and needed to sleep on a bed.

Holy shit – I just about flipped and it didn’t improve matters when he gave me a knowing smile as he entered the bedroom. If he’s got a bad back it didn’t seem to affect him last night. It was agonizing to hear the bed head smashing against the wall and Angela crying out “O fuck – it’s so good.”

Did I get up and get breakfast this morning? Did I fuck! At 7.30 I was out on the street looking for somewhere I could have a pee as I didn’t want to go through the bedroom on the way to the toilet. I ended up in a friendly little café where I had breakfast and took lots of deep breaths to get rid of my anger.

I didn’t return to the apartment until I thought it was all clear. There was a message on the table – “Please don’t be angry with me.”

I was angry – really fucking angry. It was hard to think about anything else all day. I didn’t eat lunch, I didn’t think about a job – I just lay around and occasionally threw things across the room.

Barry’s suitcase was gone but when I heard the key in the lock I was tempted to pick-up the poker again just in case it was him. I thought the police would accept my explanation that I thought it was a burglar. It turned out to be Angela who ran over to me and started to smother me with kisses to which I did not respond.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry – I’m sorry,” she babbled. “It was just that the restaurant brought back old memories and we were married for three years. Please forgive me.”

I said there was nothing to forgive – I told her she didn’t owe me anything but I thought we should just keep our relationship on a friendly basis. Gosh – anyone would have thought I’d have told her that she only had three weeks to live. She just plopped into a chair and started crying.

I was determined to not let that influence me and so I told her I was going to get a Pizza from down the street and told her to put the coffee on. Wow – she jumped to it before I got out the door. Makes me think she likes to be bossed around a bit – maybe I’ll give it a try.

I woke up from tossing and turning on the sofa all night. Several times she’d called softly out of the bedroom – “Konrad – Angela’s sad,” but I ignored it and eventually she fell to sleep.

I did prepare the coffee and rolls this morning and we sat silently across from one another with her looking sheepish and fluttering her eyelids occasionally.

“I’m going to take a bath this morning,” she said at length, “Would you wash my back for me.”

I said I didn’t think that would be advisable, which caused her to change her demeanor and she simply said. “Fuck you,” and disappeared into the bedroom.

After Angela had left, slamming the door as she did so, I tried to straighten things up a bit but I couldn’t put my heart in it. For lunch, I heated up the leftover pizza and then flopped onto the sofa.

I must have nodded off because at 1.15 the phone woke me up and it was Madam Belanger from the employment agency. She told me she had a client that was interested in my bookbinding abilities.

“It’s for an American company,” she said, “They’re interested in getting all their newsletters, reports and other materials in leather bindings, and I thought of you. They don’t want to go to an outside bookbinder because they want to closely supervise the process. It should give you at least three months of employment and if you get the job you’ll be working under a Robert Woodrow – he’s an American and so your knowledge of French won’t be a problem.”

I was over the moon and quickly got ready for a 3 pm interview. The office of Selamax Integrated Systems was on Avenue des Vosges. It was a nice old building flanked by trees on a very beautiful street. I had to walk up a flight of stone stairs and in the reception, a rotund jovial looking receptionist greeted me and then escorted me to the boss’s office.

Mr. Woodrow is a really nice guy and when I showed him some pictures and testimonials he stuck out his hand and asked if I could start next Tuesday, “I would say Monday,” he said, “but I’m away that day and I want to be here to show you exactly what I need to be done.”

I didn’t ask him if Taylor Woodrow is his daughter but I think it’s a pretty safe bet.

Before I left he showed me the office where I would be working. It was more of a general area with a microwave, coffee maker, photocopier and lots of filing cabinets. It also served as an office for a lady named Paula Barilli who was responsible for editing the newsletter and sending out promotional mailers.

When Angela came home I was in a much better mood and I prepared a really nice supper with a bottle of wine. I think she took this as if all was forgiven but I didn’t encourage her to take that thought any further. However, she gave me another apology; she said she’d been incredibly stupid and that she valued our relationship and wanted it to continue.

I didn’t know what to say but later that evening when she emerged from the bedroom wearing a short see-through nightie – my resolve took a back seat. Like a lamb to the slaughter, she took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom where she’d prepared a bath for me. She’d also lit about a dozen candles on the vanity; there was the aroma of fresh garden flowers and soft music was playing in the background. After she’d undressed me slowly and sensuously I stepped into the tub, she then dropped her skimpy outfit to the floor and joined me.

We sat facing each other and she rubbed her hands over my chest and I reciprocated, then she raised herself up and lowered herself on to my boner which had been poking out of the water like a periscope. Her breasts were right in my face as she moved up and down with a cheeky smile.

The sensation was so intense I had to grip onto the sides of the tub and I was puffing and blowing as she increased the pace and the water started to slop over the sides and onto the floor. It wasn’t long before I shot my load and it felt as hot as fire. Angela just moaned and kept on grinding her ass as she kissed me passionately and dug those long nails into my back.

When we climbed out of the bath she took one of the white fluffy towels from the rail and insisted on rubbing me down. I tried to do the same for her but she waved me away, “No – this is your treat,” she said, “I owe you.”

I told Angela about my new job this morning. She was not over enthused but said, “If that’s what you want do ahead.”

When I suggested paying something towards the expenses she simply brushed that aside saying it wasn’t necessary.

“It is OK for me to keep living here isn’t it?” I asked.

Angela paused with her coffee cup at her lips then she put it down and gave me her cheeky look, “I don’t like sleeping alone – do you?”

I told her I loved sleeping with her. That seemed to really please her and she gave me a long mushy kiss before she left for work.

This morning, after I’d tidied the place up a bit, I decided to get to know the town better and so I walked down the Quai to Rue de la Pierre Large and eventually found myself in Place Saint-Etienne. I could see the spire of the Cathedral from there and I made my way towards it. However, when I got into the old town I got lost in the narrow streets and it was sometime before I actually arrived outside the towering Cathedral. Officially it’s known as Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-Strasbourg, it’s a magnificent building that took over 300 years to complete.

When I walked inside I just gasped as I have never seen anything so beautiful. I sat in one of the pews for a few minutes just to savor the atmosphere. The acoustics are such that you hear every footstep and every whisper.

On the way back to the apartment I bought some nice fish and I cooked it in white wine and cream. I had it ready by 5.30 when Angela was due home but she never came. At 6.30 I decided to eat on my own. The hours went by and she still didn’t come home – I don’t know her cell phone or work number and so I was unable to track her down. At midnight I went to bed, I was concerned but I didn’t know what the fuck I could do.

I woke up really early this morning. Still being worried as hell – I had little interest in getting breakfast. I sat on the sofa, looked out of the window and sipped my coffee. As I gazed out across the river I realized how little I know about Angela. I have no idea what government department she works for; I don’t know what kind of a position she holds; I don’t know any of her friends or business associates – I know fuck all.

This afternoon there was a couple of phone calls for her but I just had to say I didn’t know when she would be back. I was reluctant to leave the apartment in case she called and so I stayed in all day; had a can of soup for lunch and waited and waited. At 6.30 Angela came breezing into the apartment as if nothing had happened. When I asked her where she was last night she said she had to work late and decided to stay over rather than come home.

“How far is your place of business from here?” I asked, feeling she was serving me a crock.

“What is that to do with anything?” she snapped and disappeared into the bedroom.

I followed her in, “I think you should have phoned me,” I said, “I was worried about you.”

“O – that’s nice,” she smiled, patting my cheek as if I was a three-year-old, after which she began to take off her clothes and fling them on to the bed. “Change into something smart,” she said, “I’m taking you out to dinner.” She then went into the bathroom and started the shower.

I was furious – the last thing I wanted to do was go out to dinner with her – so I just went into the living room and switched on the TV. When she reappeared she was rubbing her hair and just wearing a towel.

“Come on get a move on – I have reservations for 7.30.”

“You go alone I don’t feel like it.”

“Ooo – you’re still mad at me,” she said in a patronizing tone.

I didn’t answer her and so she sat on my lap, “Do you want to go to bed and have a quickie first?”

The fact that she thought everything could be smoothed over with a little sex made me even angrier.

“What I want from you,” I fumed, “Is the name of the place you work; your telephone number and a promise that you will keep me informed about what you intend to do.”

She quickly got off my lap, “Who the fuck do you think you are – my fucking husband? Look – I don’t answer to anybody since I got rid of the last asshole – and I’m as sure as fuck not going to answer to you.”

She went into the bedroom and I could see her standing there naked. Slowly she began to slip into her flimsy underwear. She did it slowly as she knew I was looking out of the corner of my eye. Holy shit I was tempted to take her up on her offer but I was still seething inside and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to admit defeat.

While I pretended to be interested in some mindless TV show she walked through the living room in her slinky outfit. It looked as if it had been sprayed onto her supple body and it left little to the imagination. She opened the door and paused to give me one last glare – then she left slamming it behind her.

I lay back on the sofa confused about my feelings and wondered why I was so upset about her not coming home last night. As she says I’m not her husband – we don’t have any commitment – she doesn’t have to answer to me. She doesn’t even have to ask my permission to fuck her ex-husband. I hate to admit it but – I may be just acting juvenile, after all my life experience is limited compared to hers. Perhaps I need to grow up. I spent the rest of the evening soul searching and trying to figure out how I could atone for my behavior.

My supper consisted of a cheese sandwich and a mug of tea. I settled down on the sofa at around 11 o’clock and fell asleep – only to be woken up at 11.30 with a phone call from the police. I had a hell of a time trying to decipher what the officer was saying on the other end of the line but I eventually managed to understand that Angela, or Madam Angela Hartmann, as he put it, had been involved in a car accident and I could pick her up at the gendarmerie on Rue de la Nuée Bleue. Jesus! my heart sank a mile – I was blaming myself for the accident before I even got into the taxi.

When I arrived at the police station, a foreboding looking building if ever I saw one, she was sitting there looking reasonably sober, even though her hair looked like a rat’s nest and she seemed to have lost her shoes. As soon as I came into her line of sight she got up and flung her arms around me. In an attempt to comfort her I held her tight for a while and then I lowered her back into the seat until I had dealt with the duty officer.

It appears that Angela, pissed as a newt, had run into the side of a building and totally destroyed the car. Fortunately, she wasn’t hurt and had been found by the police sitting on the steps of another building almost a block away.

She said nothing on the way home, she just sniffled. When we got up to the apartment she sat on the sofa with her head in her hands and started to mumble about how sorry she was. I didn’t say too much but asked if she’d like some strong coffee and she nodded. When I’d brewed the sobering concoction I sat with her. No sooner had she raised the mug to her lips than they began to tremble and tears started to stream down her face. I took the mug from her and placed it on the side table along with mine and I put my arms around her. She then burst into tears and sobbed for the next five minutes while I struggled to find words to comfort her.

She never did drink that coffee. I eventually helped her onto the bed, covered her up and returned to the sofa for the night.

When I awoke this morning I found Angela kneeling beside the sofa looking at me.

“Good morning,” she greeted, as I opened up my eyes.

“Good morning,” I replied, turning over to face her.

“I’m sorry about last night – I was very foolish.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t go with you to the restaurant.”

“It’s not your fault,” she sniffled, “What you said was correct – we are in a sort of a relationship aren’t we?”

I nodded although I’m still not fond of the term relationship as it might be construed as what they call “A life partner.” That’s kind of scary.

“I like living with you,” she continued, “You’re good company and a great lover and I should be more forthcoming. However,” she faltered, “I can’t tell you everything about my job because it’s classified but I will give you my cell phone number – but,” she faltered once more, “I don’t always have it turned on.”

I don’t seem to have gained much but I felt so guilty that she may have crashed and got herself in serious trouble with the law because of me. For the time being at least, I’ll have to be satisfied with the minute concession she’s made regarding the cell phone. Of course the word “classified” conjures up images of spy’s and subterfuge and that’s going to give me something to think about – especially if she stays out all night again.

After some serious tongue wrestling and body groping Angela suggested that we should go out for breakfast. It sounded like a good idea as I’ve been eating pretty light for a couple of days.

Both of us got a hasty shower, dressed and headed out by cab, as we had no car. We ended up at the Regent Hotel in the Petit France and crazy Angela did nothing less than rent a room and then had room service send up a wonderful breakfast. As usual, she ordered for me.

This hotel is absolutely beautiful. It overlooks the river and our room was superbly appointed. In fact, it’s a very romantic place and once the waiter had collected the wagon it was back to the shower and onto the king-sized bed.

Angela just lay there with her arms and legs spread out across the bed.

“I think it’s my treat today,” she said. I could hardly argue – I knelt on the bed between her feet and rubbed my fingers up the inside of her legs.

“That tickles,” she giggled and lifting her legs upwards she placed them under my arms and guided me forward until my lips hovered above her breasts. I didn’t waste too much time in taking those inviting nipples into my mouth. One of my knees was still between her legs and she moved her flower up and down on it.

I took her shoulders and turned her on top of me so that her breasts were hanging over me. She moved them from side to side across my face until I reached up and cupping one in both hands I held it firmly and sucked it until she started to moan.

Being straddled across my body she moved her flower sensuously across my skin and then repositioned herself so that it was on my face and I could reach into it with my tongue as I continued to fondle her breasts. For Angela, this was pure ecstasy she groaned and moaned and then I could feel her velvet folds beginning to tremble and she went into a massive orgasm.

To my surprise, she stayed on top of me and slid down my body onto my boner. I gasped and held onto her arms as she started to gyrate in belly dancing style going faster and faster until I began to move my ass as I couldn’t wait to blow my load. It felt like a nuclear explosion and she was so carried away she tried to milk every drop out of me.

When it was over I was completely shagged but she got up went back to the shower and then emerged dressed and ready to go. I was a little slower getting ready and when I re-entered the room she was on her cell phone. She quickly ended the call when I entered the room and then smiling sweetly she announced that she was going to take me to Germany for lunch.

She settled our bill and the desk clerk got us a taxi to take us to Kehl just over the border. She told the driver to drop us off at a little pub called the Alte Zunft. This place had a nice atmosphere and the food was great and Angela looked very relaxed. As I sat there admiring her she gave me the occasional smile. I think that she feels a little bit more comfortable with me after last night’s escapade.

As we sipped on our coffee I talked about my past and the fact that I’d never been to college and this led to her opening up about some of the things she’d done. I must admit I never expected someone with her looks and lifestyle to have had such a remarkable resume.

She told me that she did four years at Heidelberg University; two years at the Sorbonne in Paris studying the History of Art and Archeology and then she’s worked for a string of museums in Paris, Berlin, and London. I would have loved to have asked why the work she’s doing now is so secret but as things seem to be going so well between us now I didn’t want to screw them up. However, when we were about to leave something very strange happened, a man at a nearby table, who I’d seen looking in our direction a couple of times, got up at the same time as we did and seemed to deliberately bump into Angela. Apologies were exchanged, she paid the bill and then instead of calling for a taxi she led me a little way down the street and stopped at a shiny black Mercedes. She took a key unlocked the door and told me to hop in.

Naturally, I wanted to ask what the fuck was going on but I knew I wouldn’t get a satisfactory answer and so I kept my mouth shut. Later I figured the suspicious-looking man at the Alte Zunft must have passed her the key. But what do I know?

Once back in the apartment we spent the evening snuggled up on the sofa, had a pizza for supper and made passionate love once more before we both dropped asleep.

Angela didn’t have to go into work this morning. I got up at 8.30 – offered her Ladyship breakfast in bed but she just covered her head with a pillow and declined my offer. I sat and drank my coffee alone looking at the many ornaments and vases around the place. With expertise in antiquities, it’s unlikely she bought these at Wal-Mart. I have a new respect for them now and resolve that when I tidy up I’m going to be more careful just in case I should break some Egyptian relic or maybe Ming vase.

I’m excited about starting my new job tomorrow I just wasn’t made to sit around doing nothing. Since I arrived in Strasbourg, apart from sexual activities, I’ve been somewhat sedentary. Back in Toronto, I was a member of a Judo club; did some rock climbing and I was the arm wrestling champion at my local watering hole.

I even think I’ve put on a couple of pounds since I’ve been here because not being active I fill the time with snacking. The strange thing is Angela doesn’t seem to do anything strenuous, well apart from sex, but she’s in perfect shape – and I do mean perfect!

At 11 am she had not risen from her bed and so I decided I would go for a jog so I put on my tracksuit and headed off down the Quai. You can run beside the river for miles and it’s very pleasant.

Quai des Bataliers gives way to Quai des Pecheaurs and there’s a little restaurant there that’s called Le Rafiot that actually a boat anchored on the side of the river. As I was passing and breathing a little heavy I heard a voice call out “Hey Canadian,” I looked towards the outdoor tables and there was Taylor. She signaled for me to join her.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember your name,” she groaned, as I sat down across from her, “I’m just not good with names.”

“It’s Konrad – Konrad Max,” I said.

“Of course – I’ll remember that in future.”

She then invited me to join her for brunch. “I’m afraid I got up late,” she said, “Daddy forgot to give me a call before he left for work.”

“Is your father Robert Woodrow?” I asked.

“Yes – he is,” she replied looking a little surprised that I might know him.

Over a light lunch, I told her about my new job and she said that she sometimes did some filing for her father so we’d probably see each other there. And then she went on to tell me that she lived on Rue de Zurich, which is quite close to Angela’s place. However, when she asked me where I lived I felt a bit awkward for some reason.

“I live with a friend on Quai des Bataliers,” I replied, a bit embarrassed to say that I’m shacked up with an older woman.

It must have been six coffees later that we eventually parted company. Taylor has such a bubbly personality it wasn’t easy to break away and of course – she’s very easy on the eye being tall, very slender and very blond.

When I got back to the apartment Angela was sitting at the table eating a piece of warmed up pizza.

“Where’ve you been,” she asked, eying my attire.


“I’m afraid I’ve eaten the left-over pizza – you have to figure something out for your lunch.”

“O – I ate at the Le Rafiot – someone actually bought me lunch.”

“You make friends quickly.”

“It was the daughter of the guy I’m going to work for – they live on Rue de Zurich.”

“You never mentioned there was a daughter in the equation – she’s pretty I suppose.”

“Hm – she’s quite nice looking.”

“Prettier than me?”

“O you’re two completely different types – she’s just a kid actually.”

“So I guess she just bought you lunch out of her pocket money.”

Sensing I was digging a large hole for myself I leaned over her and kissed her gently on the back neck, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” I teased, slipping my hands down and cupping her breasts. She leaned back on to my chest.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” she purred?

“Is it working?”

Then she shot out of her chair and said last one into the bedroom is the slave. She made for the bedroom door and I didn’t attempt to beat her as I don’t care what role I play – it’s always good!

She was lying naked on the bed as I entered and I knew what she wanted. I started by tickling the soles of her feet with my tongue and when she couldn’t stand it anymore I licked up the inside of her leg but stopped before I got to her flower and then I moved up to do some magic on her nipples.

Angela turned and twisted with my every move until I thought it was time to bring my tongue down over her tummy, lingering on her belly button for a while before heading down to the moist folds of her flower. By this time she was getting very excited and began to call for me to make her cum. To do this I began to flick my tongue like a butterfly’s wing. This caused her to moan out loud and she grabbed onto my hair and pulled it quite hard. When her body started to shake like crazy I quickly penetrated her flower and went straight for the gold.

The bed was crashing against the wall so violently that the pictures were swaying back and forth. When the big climax came she grabbed hold of my face and kissed me so hard it bruised my lips.

I was so exhausted after our romp I hoped I’d be fit to start my job in the morning.

I felt great this morning and Angela and offered to drive me to work. She dropped me off outside the building on Avenue des Vosges so she knew exactly where I was going to spend my day. I hadn’t a clue where she was going to spend hers.

Madam Thibault had a smile for me as I entered and informed me that the coffee was on in my work area. Paula seemed to be engrossed in her tasks but acknowledged my presence with a nod.

She’s an unusual looking woman in her mid-forties, with red hair and a broad black parting and her left arm is almost completed covered in tattoos.

I was at a bit of loss about what to do as I had no tools or materials to work with. However, it was only a couple of minutes before Mr. Woodrow appeared and suggested I should go into town and buy whatever I needed.

“My daughter Taylor has a credit card so she’ll drive around, meanwhile I’ll get Yvette to stack the first bunch of newsletters I want binding on your table and off we go!”

First, of course, I had to find out where I could buy the stuff I needed and so Taylor took me into an office that was not been used and together we browsed the web. I must say while I tapped away on the keyboard she was not shy at getting close. Her perfume was quite exotic and I found myself getting quite hot under the collar.

When we’d found a couple of possibilities we headed out the back to the car. I couldn’t help admiring her long youthful legs which showed off their full extent with her wearing a micro-mini skirt.

I’m not sure what she’d told her father about her knowledge of the city but she’d only been here a couple of months and I don’t think she knows it any better than me. Her driving was also a bit to be desired but with me navigating and her trying to avoid colliding with the people that were honking at her we managed to find the first supplier.

There were a couple of pieces of equipment I needed that they didn’t stock and so we went on a wild trip around the city trying to find the other address on our list. Unfortunately, we passed by one intersection three times but after almost three-quarters of an hour, we found it. Once we’d loaded these rather heavy pieces into the trunk it was almost eleven and Taylor suggested we should go for an early lunch assuring me that her father would not mind. According to her, he had given her complete authority over me for the day.

Instead of heading for a restaurant she insisted on finding a place where she’d been with her father and it turned out to be a gourmet sandwich shop called Bretzel Burgard on Place Kleber. It took us twenty minutes to locate it but when we did I must admit it was worth it. We stocked up on some mouth-watering delicacies, bought a bottle of wine and two glasses and headed off looking for a place we could park by the river. By this time I’m feeling that Taylor is just as crazy as Angela, and her father must be a bit strange to give her license to do whatever she wants – and a credit card to boot.

As she struggled to open the bottle of wine she said she loved France because back in the states she’d have to 21 to drink. At this point, I warned her to only have one glass as she was driving and she nodded saying that was all she intended to drink.

I was still a bit worried about the situation as this was my first day at work and here I am idling away the day drinking wine with the boss’s daughter. However, she switched on some music, we clinked our glasses and nothing seemed to matter except that moment in time.

I never thought a sandwich could lead to a romantic moment but it did. It appears that I had a speck of pate on my lip and Taylor leaned over with a napkin to wipe it off. The next thing I knew our lips met, it was a sweet kiss but I didn’t really want to get involved so I didn’t take it any further. She smiled when it was all over as if she’d achieved something and then headed back to the office. We didn’t actually get in until almost one-thirty and she helped me unload the stuff. I must say that when she bent over the trunk of the car to retrieve some of the items it seriously interfered with my ability to concentrate.

Madam Thibault, who insisted that I call her Yvette spoke acceptable English and she assisted me for most of the afternoon showing me what Mr. Woodrow wanted. It was pretty straightforward really.

Angela phoned me just before quitting time and told me she would be picking me up. At five o’clock, as promised, she turned up in her new black Mercedes. Just as I was about to climb into the passenger seat Taylor ran out with my cell phone that I had apparently left on the desk. Both women eyed each other up and down and I made a quick introduction. As we drove away Angela turned to me with a half-smile, “So that’s the kid is it?”

“Yes she’s just 19 – just finished high school,” I added quickly to hoping to make my former description of her plausible.

“She’s very well developed for her age.”

“I suppose she is.”

The conversation kept coming back to Taylor all the way home – I can tell that Angela doesn’t trust me but I don’t really care a shit – she didn’t think of my feelings when she fucked her ex-husband in the next room. But what am I talking about – I have no designs on Taylor – she’s the boss’s daughter I’d be foolish to get involved AND I have a relatively good relationship with Angela so why should I start looking for tail elsewhere.

This morning I asked Angela when she was due to appear in court regarding her drunken driving charge and she just casually said that it had been looked after. She really takes a bit of summing up – she appears with another brand new car – it doesn’t look as if she’s going to face any charges for her crime and she won’t tell me where the fuck she works. Talk about a mysterious lady.

After a quick breakfast, she said she’d drop me off at work but she wouldn’t be able to pick me up as she was going to be away for a couple of days. “There’s money in the dressing table drawer,” she said casually, “Just help yourself.”

When we drew up outside the building she gave me a quick kiss, told me not to worry and she’d text me if she could. She then drove away into the shadows.

When I walked into the office Taylor was already sitting in my chair. She gave me a sweet good morning and said she was just warming up my chair for me. Paula who sits directly across from me raised her eyebrows.

“I wonder if I could watch you work for a little while,” she asked.

I didn’t have any problem with that and she drew up a chair. However, when Paula had to go out for a meeting she moved her chair a little closer. It was then that the questioning began.

“Was that your girlfriend who picked you up?” she asked.

“Sort of,” I replied.

“What do you mean sort of?”

“Well, we do have kind of a relationship.”

“Sort of – kind of, that all seems very vague,” she laughed.

I was really getting pissed off with the questioning and asked her to hold a book that I’d made up while I applied some paste to the spine. Now, of course, she was even closer.

“She seems a bit older than you,” she ventured, looking directly into my eyes.

“Do you think that’s a problem?”

“No, but men usually go out with women younger than themselves.”

“Perhaps I’m unusual,” I replied.

“Perhaps you are,” she smiled, “Perhaps you are.”

Paula re-appeared, the process of the book was finished and so Taylor decided to go and do something else. She gave me a weird little smile as she left, almost as if she was up to something.

I didn’t see her for the rest of the day but as I was trying to hail a taxi Bob’s car pulled up and Taylor, who was driving, offered me a ride. I didn’t see any harm in accepting but I did get a little nervous when she dropped her father off on Rue de Zurich and said that she would drive me home.

During the trip, in conversation with Bob, we got onto the topic of men cooking, which he apparently enjoyed. Unfortunately, I inadvertently mentioned that my girlfriend was away for a few days. Consequently, when we arrived at my building Taylor parked the car and got out at the same time as me.

“Are you going to invite me up for a drink?” she asked grabbing hold of my arm.

There are moments in life when you don’t get enough time to successfully think yourself out of an awkward situation. This was one of my moments.

I really didn’t want to take her up to the apartment because if Angela found out she’d probably cut my balls off. However, I didn’t want to snub my boss’s daughter. I believe they call such a dilemma – “Being between a rock and a hard place.”

Putting the key in the street door I said I had an appointment at 6.30 so there would only be time for a quick drink. I don’t think Taylor believed that for a minute, she smile and nodded and said OK but I had the feeling I was heading for trouble.

We climbed the stairs I opened the next door allowing her to go in first.

“Wow – this is a pretty nice place,” she commented, “Your girlfriend must have lots of money.”

I ignored the comment and proceeded to make for the liquor cabinet.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked.

“Jack Daniels on the rocks if you have it?” she replied nosing around the room.

“How about Scotch – single malt?”

“OK if that’s all you’ve got.”

I poured the drinks nervously and then went into the kitchen for some ice. When I came out Taylor was nowhere to be seen. However, I didn’t have to look far – she was in the bedroom.

Stretched out on the bed she asked me if that’s where me and my girl did it? I said I didn’t think that was any of her business.

She pulled a little girl lip and asked if I’d like to do it with her. I repeated my lie that I had an appointment and I immediately left the bedroom.

I’m standing in the living room with a drink in either hand when Taylor stormed past me and slammed the door as she left. It was a bit like déjà vu as Angela did the same thing a few days ago.

Paula, who I always thought of as the silent type, opened up today. She certainly doesn’t like Taylor and made no secret of it.

“Her father spoils her rotten,” she said, “I suppose he feels guilty about his divorce from her mother and as a result, he gives her whatever she wants. Goodness knows what will happen if he marries Mademoiselle Fortier and it looks as if that’s the way it’s going.” And then she went on to warn me that Taylor had got her eye on me and that she usually gets what she wants.”

I thanked her for her advice and she went back to her worked and clammed up again.

This afternoon Bob came in and said that he’d neglected to show me around the whole office and so I got a guided tour. The organization is simply an HQ for European Sales and there about 12 sale representatives in the field. Here in Strasbourg, there are about ten people in the office who process the orders and a warehouse in another part of town that sends out the components.

During my tour I was introduced to the people in accounts; the assistant manager Charles LeBold; the two secretaries who provide support to the staff in the field and process the orders; Sasha a young gofer who sits in a closet-sized mail room and last but not least Elise Fortier. She is Bob’s private secretary and occupies an adjoining office. If Paula is correct in her assumptions this will soon be Mrs. Woodrow.

If anyone asked me to describe Elise it would take me a good half hour. In spite of her French name, she is either Oriental or a good part oriental. She is Miss Universe, Miss World and Miss Galaxy all rolled into one. A gorgeous face; long black hair that cascades down to her waist; and a figure that would give a 95 old man an enormous hard-on. To sum it up – she is perfect!

When she held out her hand to shake mine I didn’t want to let it go. Bob looked at me for a second as if gloating and murmuring under his breath “she’s all mine.”

I must say that thoughts of Angela and Taylor left me for the rest of the afternoon. It even screwed up my work somewhat but I fought to shake it off and by the time I went to bed with a large whiskey the image was beginning to fade. Wow – how can somebody possibly have that kind of impact on a man.

Angela turned up this morning before I left for work. She said she was very tired and wanted to crash right away – which she did, but not before suggesting that I drive her car to work. When I drove into the parking lot I saw Taylor climbing out of a cab. She looked very attractive in a short white dress and as her legs slid out of the taxi door she revealed her brief underwear for a moment. I think that most men would consider me an idiot to have turned down her advances of such a beautiful woman.

We ended up walking through the door together and she greeted me quite pleasantly so I presume she’s not holding a grudge. Being a gentleman I let her ascend the stairs first and followed her up enjoying the view as I went.

Entering my workroom I exchanged nods with Paula who was busy on the computer and sat down to work on my binding. At that moment Bob walked in and congratulated me on the books I’d completed.

“They look great,” he said, “Really great – I’m going to buy a new bookcase to accommodate them – maybe you and Taylor could go out this afternoon and look for one – you know the exact specifications so that will make it easier.”

When he left the room I started to try and calculate how many volumes there would be in total as I certainly didn’t want to screw up on the size. This meant going to the storeroom to check out the amount of material needing to be bound.

As I opened the door I picked up an aroma that I recognized and sure enough there was Taylor sorting through some files.

“Guess what?” she said as I walked in, “Daddy has given me the authority over you again today and so we are going to start by having lunch – we leave at 12 sharp.” Then without giving me the chance to say anything she picked up a pile of papers and left.

At noon I was shocked to find not Taylor at the reception to meet me but Elise!

“Taylor had to go home with a headache,” she said in a low sexy voice, “Mr. Woodrow asked me to stand in for her.”

I’m not sure what I mumbled in response but I followed her out to her sporty BMW in a daze and climbed in. The next thing I was aware of was those long slender legs extending themselves beside me and her reminding me to fasten my seatbelt.

Unlike Taylor, Elise drove confidently in a city she obviously knew well. First, we drove to a quaint little restaurant in the Petite France area called La Corde a Linge.

“Taylor said she promised you lunch,” she smiled, “I think you’ll like this little place.”

Quite frankly a hot dog stand would have been OK – just being able to spend time with such a beautiful woman was enough to satisfy my appetite.

We took a table under the trees by the river and browsed the menu.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, “But I like good plain Alsacian food.”

I wasn’t going to disagree and we both ended up tucking into traditional meatballs with mustard sauce with spaetzle on the side. I was rather surprised that someone with her figure could put away so much food.

Over coffee, she began to ask me questions about myself. I told her straight up that I was living with Angela and she surprised me by asking if I loved her. It was not an easy question to answer, I said I loved her but I wasn’t actually in love with her.

“That’s exactly how I feel about Bob,” she half whispered, as though she was afraid of what she was saying. She then put her cup down in the saucer somewhat clumsily and added, “And we’re getting married next month.”

When I told her I was not aware of the upcoming nuptials she said only a few people knew about it.

“I was married before,” she said, as she mopped her saucer with a napkin, I was only seventeen. He was quite a bit like you – young, handsome and without any prospects.”

“Thank you,” I laughed, trying not to take her too seriously.

“O – I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude but I mean a man like you can’t give me the material things I want – that always leads to arguments. My marriage only lasted eight months.”

I commiserated with her but then checked my watch and politely suggested we should perhaps get on with the job at hand. Elise looked very sad as we left the restaurant and remained quite solemn for the rest of our trip.

After we’d ordered the bookcase at Aldeos on Quai Kellermann and arranged for delivery we returned to the office. As we got out of the car she urged me not to mention our conversation to anyone. She obviously regrets being so open.

When I got home this evening Angela had prepared a wonderful meal and we spent some quality time together – much of it in the bedroom.

This morning Angela suggested we should visit our relatives in Bünde in Germany. I was thrilled at the idea as I had never met my grandparents who live there even though I have spoken to them on the phone.

It was quite a rush as we were faced with a five or six-hour drive. We quickly packed a picnic lunch so we didn’t have to stop and we got away just before 9 am. Wow – that was a tough journey. We shared the driving and arrived in the very cute town of Bünde mid-afternoon. First, we headed to Kleiner Bruchweg were my grandparents lived and gave them a big surprise.

These are my father’s family as my mother’s parents live in Hamburg. I intend to visit them one day soon.

Grandma Helga sure got a shock when we rang the doorbell. I was hugged by her and Grandpa until my ribs were sore.

Once Angela had dumped me off she took off to visit her parents in Ostkilver a few miles out of town. Instead of staying in a hotel we both stayed with our respective families and arranged to have a big get-together lunch on Sunday at the Zum Metzger mit dem Zopf.

Saturday proved to be a busy one as once the news got around that I was in town relatives I hadn’t even heard of descended on the house. It was truly a very special time and I actually slept in the room that my father slept in as a boy.

This morning I saw the house that I was born in; visited the cemetery were some of my ancestors are buried and I answered a lot of questions regarding my relationship with Angela. Obviously, my mother and Grandma Helga have been discussing the situation and so, even though my father’s family don’t approve of shacking up together, I did come clean and told them that we were having a relationship.

After my confession, Grandma suggested we went to church together but Grandpa said that it was too late and there were lots of things to do and so my sins had to be put on hold. Angela turned up at the house with a second car full of her family and little groups seemed to form and every so often they would cast their glances toward the two of us.

The lunch went extremely well with everybody having a good time and a few people drinking a little more than they should. Later at the house, there were tearful goodbyes and promises for future get-togethers. Around 3 pm, piled up with food provided by the family who didn’t want us to starve to death on the way – we left.

“I don’t think you’re grandparents approve of our relationship,” Angela remarked as we pulled out of town, “It was rather brave of you to admit to it.”

“No point in lying to old people – they have a gift for reading faces.”

“So you think we look like a couple.”

I didn’t want to pursue that couple stuff and as luck would have it a van made a dangerous maneuver in the front of us causing Angela to ram on the brakes and to curse enthusiastically. When things got back to normal the subject was not broached again.

It was nearly midnight when we arrived back home as we had, in spite of all the food packaged by the families, stopped for a meal. Both shagged out from the whole experience we dropped into bed and quickly fell asleep.

Believe or not Angela got a call at 6.30 am and left immediately. I didn’t want to keep taking a taxi because of the cost and so I tried taking public transportation and arrived at work five minutes late.

Paula had news for me this morning. Bending over the desk and looking around furtively she informed me that Monsieur Woodrow and Elise were engaged to be married. I tried to look surprised and was about to get on with my work when I got a call from no other than Elise, she said that Bob had to fly for a series of meetings in London and would be away for a few days. She had apparently entrenched herself in Bob’s office and wanted to see me there.

When I entered Elise was on the phone and she was leaning over the desks looking through some papers at the same time. I couldn’t help but notice her breasts swaying from side to side as she was wearing a low cut top and obviously no bra.

She seemed to be getting quite angry with whoever happened to be on the other end of the line and slammed the phone down on them.

“Dam salesmen,” she said, “They get the orders wrong and then expect somebody else to sort it out for them.”

She settled down and asked me to take a seat.

“Konrad,” she began, “I found it very easy to talk to you the other day and I still have a few worries I’d like to discuss – is there any chance you could have dinner with me tonight?”

I hesitated because I knew that if Angela returned this evening I would have a job explaining where I was going. Elise picked up on my hesitation and said if such an arrangement proved awkward for me perhaps we could just have lunch together. I certainly had no objection to that and went back to my work with a spring in my step. After all, any man would enjoy having lunch with a beautiful woman like her.

I didn’t see Taylor around this morning and presumed that she was probably in London with her father. However, when Elise and I drove away I thought I saw her at the window.

That didn’t particularly worry me but after we had parked the vehicle in the Rue des Juifs she informed me that we would be lunching in her apartment.

“I’ve got fresh bread, pate, brie, and some great coffee, and it’s very comfortable,” she smiled.

She led me a little way down the street, inside an old building and then down a stone staircase to what I can only call a cave. It’s an absolutely beautiful one-room apartment, quite large and with a high rounded stone ceiling. It was well furnished in antique pieces with a large comfortable looking bed in the corner.

“How on earth did you discover a place like this,” I asked.

“I wanted something unusual,” she said, “something with atmosphere – a love nest for Bob and I.”

“You certainly found it,” I laughed, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She invited me to sit on the well-stuffed white sofa while she busied herself in the kitchen area. The bed – situated right across from me conjured up some erotic images in my mind.

Elise soon brought a tray across and we started to eat our lunch. I was expecting her to begin discussing whatever her problem was but the conversation turned to food and other trivial things. I drank a couple of cups of coffee and polished off several pieces of bread and I was still waiting for her to open up once more.

She took the empty tray away and came back to sit by me but she didn’t say anything, she just gave a big sigh and then started to cry. I didn’t know quite what to do but I reached out to touch her arm in order to comfort her and suddenly she had her arms around my neck and continued to weep.

After a while, she straightened herself up again.

“I don’t want to go through with this marriage,” she cried, “but I’m responsible for his wife’s death and I can’t really call it off.”

“How could you be responsible for his wife’s death?” I inquired.

“She committed suicide because of me.”

” How could that happen,” I stammered feeling very uncomfortable.

“Bob came over here a year ago,” she sniffled, “his wife stayed in the states so Taylor could finish her high school and then he met me and when he told his wife he’d found someone else she killed herself. Taylor stayed with relatives until a couple of months ago – I’m sure she hates me – she pretends not to but I’m sure she does.”

I’m not often stuck for words but I was at that moment. I started to look at my watch again hoping that I could think of some way to get out of this situation but things got worse.

“Is your girlfriend a good lover?” she inquired.

“Yes,” I spluttered, “I suppose she is.”

“Bob isn’t a good lover,” she said, “That’s the problem, yes I want material things but I also want someone who can satisfy me sexually.”

I looked at my watch again.

“Do you satisfy your girlfriend Konrad?” she asked putting her hand on my thigh.

Holy fuck – she’s beautiful and alluring but she was beginning to spook me. I suggested that it was probably not appropriate for the two of us to be alone and that Bob would probably blow his top if he found out about it.

“I was hoping that you could be my friend,” she pleaded in a low voice – tightening her grip on my thigh.

In spite of sympathizing with Bob and his deceased wife, I was beginning to feel terribly horny. However, I thought I might be reading the situation all wrong and I didn’t want to make a move that might lose me my job and possibly damage my relationship with Angela.

I didn’t need to worry as she started to whisper “I want you to be my friend Konrad – I want you to be my friend,” and as she said it her face got closer and closer to mine. Whatever resistance I once had suddenly disintegrated and I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her toward me. The next we are all over each other and I was enjoying the sweetness of her tongue.

As we became more and more entwined I ventured to slip my hand under her short skirt. The moment my hand made contact with her smooth warm skin she started to tremble and rained frenzied kisses all over my face. When I reached the edge of her panties she gasped and tightened her grip on me. At this point I rose to my feet pulling her up with me and taking her up in my arms I carried to that most inviting bed.

She looks so fragile lying there I slipped off her skirt and panties very gently and moved her top up to her shoulders. I paused for a few seconds just to admire her beautiful body – it was breathtaking. When I bent my head and started to brush my tongue over nipples she closed her eyes started to whimper. As I took them into my mouth she arched her back and groaned and putting her arms behind her she grabbed on to the bed head.

It occurred to me that as she was naked I should take my clothes off and as I stood beside the bed taking off my underwear her hand reached out to feel my groin. As her fingers began to explore I felt the blood rushing through my veins and I swear my boner grew another inch. She soon took advantage of this and re-positioned herself so that she could absorb me into her mouth.

I held onto her shoulders as she slowly took as much of it in as physically possible and then withdrew it at the same speed. Every so often she would just use her tongue to tantalize me, sometimes bringing her it from my balls right to the tip.

When I could stand no more I lay her on her back and as she opened her beautiful long shapely legs I slipped my tongue into the petals of her flower. Once more she grabbed the bed head and raised her bum upwards making it easier for me to immerse myself in her warm moist folds.

As she got more and more excited she urged me to put in my finger while still making rapid movements with my tongue and it wasn’t long before her body began to twist and turn, then she screamed out loud as she went into a massive orgasm. At this point, I took hold of her wrists and lowered myself on to her gradually penetrating her flower. I teased her a little by rapidly going in and out for a few strokes and then stopping. Every time I stopped she would move her ass up and down desperately wanting it to continue.

Because my balls were aching and ready to explode I began to increase my pace. The bed was creaking with my every move – faster and faster until it was my turn to scream and she broke her arms free and held onto me as hard as she could.

I had just made love to possibly the most beautiful woman in the world and I was beginning to feel guilty about it. Elise seemed to have no regrets and after slipping on a lacy robe she went to the kitchen area to put more coffee on.

When she came back she sat beside me kissed me and said, “That was wonderful.”

There was no denying that but I wondered where this was going to lead us. She had no such doubts.

“Do you know something,” she said, taking my hand in hers, “I think I will marry Bob and perhaps you could be my lover.”

I’m not sure what you say to a proposition like that. To turn down having sex with a gorgeous creature like Elise would certainly put one’s masculinity into question. Consequently, I just said that we could possibly work something out. A stupid answer but it was all I could come up with at the time.

As luck would have it when I got back into the office Taylor was once more sitting in my chair. It was almost three o’clock and she commented on the fact that I had taken a rather long lunch.

“The next time I ask you out to lunch,” she smiled, “You’ll have to spend as much time with me.”

This evening I received a text from Angela? She’s going to be away for two or three days.

The fire alarms went off in the office building today and we all had to troop outside for twenty minutes while the fire department went through each floor systematically. I stood by one of the trees that line the street with Taylor on one side and Elise on the other. Paula, who sat on garbage can by the door looked over at us with a wry smile. When we were allowed back into the office she commented that I was quite the ladies man. After that, every time she looked at me she gave that same little grin. Goodness knows what she’s thinking.

It didn’t help the situation when at noon Taylor came into the office and told me she was going to buy me lunch. When I said I was too busy and I was just going to go out and bring back a coffee and a sandwich she tried to pull the “My father gave me complete authority,” again.

“I thought that Madam Fortier was in charge in your father’s absence,” I said, glancing over at Paula who seemed most interested in our conversation.

The expression on Taylor’s face certainly conveyed her feeling about Elise.

“She’s not Mrs. Woodrow yet,” she exploded, “I’m just as important as she is so get your ass off that chair and we’ll go to lunch – I’m paying.”

The last thing I wanted to do was to capitulate to a kid of nineteen but I was in an awkward position. To save face I said that I would go but I would certainly mention her behavior to her father when he returned.

“He’s not back so let’s go,” she snapped.

I would truly liked to have taken her over my knee and given her ass a good tanning but I grabbed my jacket and followed her out with Paula giving me a sly wave as I did so.

It seemed ridiculous to even consider going to lunch with both of us being angry and so before we got to her car I suggested we forgot what happened in the office and have a pleasant lunch together. She smiled, the kind of smile that could melt your heart, and squeezed my hand.

“Let’s do that,” she agreed.

Taylor drove her usual hair-raising fashion and I must admit her choice of restaurant was a bit of a surprise – none other than McDonald’s in the Rue Grandes Arcades.

“I’m fed up with all the fancy food,” she laughed, “I just want a hamburger and fries.”

Now, this is not one of my favorite establishments but I must admit after dining in so many swanky restaurants I thought it would be a nice change. She asked me what I wanted then told me to find a table while she got the food.

I must say what started out so badly between us developed into a most enjoyable lunch. However, when we walking back to the car she asked me if I’d mind coming back to her apartment as she had something serious she wanted to discuss with me.

I immediately envisioned the trap that Elis had set for me and the look on my face must have indicated my reluctance.

“It’s OK I’m not planning to seduce you,” she smiled, “I really do have a serious problem – and – it’s that time of the month and so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

I was mostly worried about what Elise was going to say because as far as I was concerned she was the boss now Bob was away. When I expressed my unease about taking an extended lunch she looked at me with puppy dog eyes and I fell in with her plan.

The place she resided with her dad was in a very nice building with a doorman no less. We took the elevator to the third floor and entered the plush apartment. She suggested I sit on the sofa and asked if I wanted a drink.

“I think I’ll be in enough trouble with Elise without adding to it by smelling of alcohol.”

“That bitch has really got you under her thumb hasn’t she?”

“You obviously don’t like your future stepmother,” I said.

“I hate that fucking bitch,” she replied, pouring herself a large drink and plopping down on the sofa beside me. “She doesn’t love my dad, she likes the fact that he has money.”

“What makes you think that,” I asked, trying to be diplomatic in spite of the fact I knew this to be true.

“A couple of weeks ago I caught her in the storeroom with one of the salesmen – he had his hand up her skirt and she was loving it – I don’t think that’s the kind of woman my dad should marry – and she was also responsible for my mother’s death – a woman who was loving and loyal to the last.” At this point, she burst into tears.

Between sobs, she told me the same story that Elise had relayed to me regarding the suicide. Of course, I pretended to be shocked as if it was all new to me.

“I only wish I could prove she fucked around with other guys,” she said, “But I’d have to have video evidence to convince my dad. He’s so smitten he thinks she can do no wrong.” She sighed, “She is very beautiful isn’t she?”

I had to admit she was – nobody could deny that fact. But it seems that she is not quite so attractive on the inside.

“If you had the money I guess you could hire a gigolo to make love to her and provide you with the proof you need,” I said, more as something to say than a serious suggestion.

Taylor jumped up and down in her seat, “That’s brilliant,” she cried, “I have lots of money – my mother came off a very rich family and after the way, my dad behaved she left it all to me. I don’t get it all until I’m 21 but I have enough to be going on with.”

After the fact, I wasn’t sure that I had done the right thing making that suggestion but she was raining kisses all over my face and it didn’t seem the time to backtrack. I did make an attempt to stand up saying that we should get back to the office but she pulled me back down.

“I want to do something special for you,” she said, “You’ve saved my life.”

Even though I insisted she owed me nothing she proceeded to unzip my fly. The proximity to this lovely young woman and the kisses had caused me to start getting hard and when she felt this she giggled with delight.

“Now lie back and enjoy,” she said, taking it out and nibbling the end with her full lips.

It was too late to argue about it now and as she slid it further and further into her mouth I lost all sense of responsibility. She gradually moved until she was kneeling in front of me and then she stopped urging me to lift my bum so she could pull my pants down.

I did her bidding and soon she was rhythmically going up and down on me with her tongue doing magically moves at the same time. Putting my fingers in her hair seem to excite her and she increased the pace until I could feel my veins burning hot and ready to cum. I warned her but she ignored me and kept going until I shot my load.

It took me a couple of minutes to come down from the moon during which time Taylor ran to the bathroom. When she returned she gently cleaned me up with a warm face cloth.

“That was quite amazing,” I said kissing her forehead.

“One day I’m going to get you into bed,” she smiled, “And that will be amazing!”

It was almost 3 pm when we got back to the office and Elise was there to greet us.

“Where the hell have you been,” she asked, aiming her vengeance at me and ignoring Taylor.

“Don’t blame Konrad, I insisted he took me to lunch and when we came out of the restaurant the car wouldn’t start. It took an hour and a half to get a mechanic out.”

I could see that Elise didn’t buy it but she told me to stay an extra hour to catch up, which I had no problem with but Taylor started to curse at her and they continued the argument in her office while I sneaked back into the workroom.

Paula had obviously heard the commotion. She looked up from her work for a second, raised her eyebrows, then went back to sorting through some news clippings.

She’s a strange woman, sometimes she doesn’t say a word for hours and then she latches on to some piece of gossip and she can’t wait to share it. When I first met her I thought she was a miserable looking bitch but now her dry sense of humor is beginning to grow on me.

Just after five, which was my normal time to leave, Taylor slipped in for a few minutes and vented her frustrations with Elise. She then told me she was about to put my plan into action, kissed me on the cheek and was about to leave when the Oriental Goddess herself entered the room. Taylor made a quick exit without giving her so much as a glance.

Elise turned and watched her leave the room, she then looked at me suspiciously, “Is there something going on between you two?”

“We’re just friends, apart from her father she’s the only North American I know here. It’s nice to stay in touch with your own culture.”

“Be careful,” she warned me, “She may only be nineteen but she’s sex crazy – I’d hate to see you become involved – it would only lead to disaster and,” she paused and rubbed my shoulder gently with her hand, “I don’t want it to interfere with our arrangement.”

I’m not aware that we have an arrangement but she seems to think we have. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy making love to her the other day – it was incredible. Whereas Angela makes love aggressively Elise makes it feel like it’s part of a ballet. It’s different – but full of danger and I really don’t want to create problems for myself because I like working here. Bob’s not going to be too pleased if he finds out that if I’m fucking his wife and his daughter.

Angela called me early this morning – I’ve no idea where she was calling from but I thought I heard Arabic or a similar tongue been spoken in the background. She said she was going to be away for a few more days and when I questioned her about her location she just rang off.

I’m beginning to wonder if you can maintain a relationship where one person’s activities are cloaked in mystery and secrecy. The fact that I’m living in a foreign country, where I have no real friends or relatives, seems to exacerbate the problem.

I made a big mistake when I got to work this morning. In conversation with Elise about some of the bindings, I unconsciously mentioned the fact that I found it lonely in the evenings with Angela away. She said that she felt the same way with Bob still in London.

“We used to go out almost every evening,” she said, “Now I sit on my own and watch TV.”

When she said this I felt that she might be trying to lure me into her web again and so I quickly changed the subject. As Paula was sitting right across from us with her ears twitching Elise didn’t bring it up again.

For the rest of the day, Elise seemed to be engrossed in business occasional shouting and screaming at people which seemed so out of keeping with her angelic looks. I honestly think the responsibility she’s been given by Bob is just too much for her. Taylor didn’t show her face all day I suspect she probably busy planning her future stepmother’s downfall.

I drove home in the evening, had a shower and tried to figure out what I was going to have for supper. I was just about to raid the fridge when the doorbell rang and who should be standing there with a bag of Chinese take-out but Elise.

“I could bear to think of you cooking your own food and then having to eat alone,” she said with a little pout that seemed to say she was hoping I was not angry with her for taking such a liberty.

There was really no option but to ask her in and she was soon spreading the food out on the table and asking me if I had a corkscrew for the bottle of wine that had been hiding in one of the bags.

I tried to be gracious but I was really pissed off that she had just turned up at my door like this. Even though Angela is not here there are neighbors who may well take note of her visit – she’s hardly a woman who would go unnoticed.

It seemed a bit too late to do anything about the situation and so we ate our meal, drank our wine and engaged in polite conversation. However, every mouthful I took was accompanied by the thought of what she might have got in mind for dessert.

When we’d polished off the Moo Goo Kai Pan, Egg Rolls and the Beef Chow Mein she suggested that we might sit on the sofa to finish our wine. I was under no illusion as to where this would lead, but having been treated to the gentle sway of her perky breasts as she reached across the table with her chopsticks, I was beginning to feel the urge.

When she had finished her wine she announced it was time for the entertainment and she promptly got up and started to look through Angela’s CD collection. Having found the one she wanted she placed it in the player. It turned out to be Lena Meyer- Landrut singing “Taken by a Stranger.”

Music was not the only thing I was about to enjoy as she began to dance seductively to the pulsating rhythm, then one by one she shed pieces of her clothing throwing them this way and that. Wearing so little she had completely disrobed before the second verse.

Dancing towards me she held out her hands and pulled me to my feet. She then she began to slowly take off my clothes until the two of us were dancing with our naked bodies pressed hard against each other. When the music stopped she eased me back onto the sofa and straddled over my lap lowering herself on to me and absorbing my throbbing boner deep inside of her.

She placed her hands on my shoulders and moved up and down slowly. Her long hair brushed my chest and her nipples found their way into my mouth. I closed my eyes and just drifted into ecstasy as she moaned softly and continued to move her ass up and down and sideways.

Elise was in no hurry for me to cum whereas I was feeling a real need. She just kept on tantalizing me first with slow and then with faster moves until she began to go into orgasm, then she threw her head back and gave it all she’d got. I’m always using the term explode but that’s exactly what it felt like and as I ejaculated and I kept urging her to continue so as to drain every drop.

We both showered and then she put on her clothes, gave me a peck on the cheek and left. It was almost a cold goodbye after such extreme passion. I was left wondering whether I was just a convenient fuck for her and that anybody presentable could satisfy her needs. I’m afraid that Bob is not the lucky guy I once thought him to be.

Taylor was back at work and sitting at my desk when I arrived. She was all bubbly and smiling like the cat that got the cream. I had the feeling that she was making progress with her plan to bring about her “future step-mother’s” downfall but in spite of busting at the seams with excitement, she was seemingly not ready to share the details with me.

She helped me to sort some of the stuff to be bound and we even had a quick lunch together at the little café across the street. Elise was absolutely inundated with work and all I got from her was a little nod as we passed in the corridor.

Bob is apparently getting back tomorrow and so he and his bride to be will be busy making plans for their upcoming nuptials. However, if Taylor has her way the event will not take place.

To my surprise, when I got back to the apartment that evening Angela was there. Of course, I was glad to see her but just a little worried in case any of my suitors turn up at the door bearing food. Fortunately, it never happened and after a heavy lovemaking session which started in the bathroom and carried on into the bedroom, we went out to dinner at the Restaurant au Crocodile and I ordered for us both. The waiter was very patient and Angela had a problem to restrain herself, occasionally correcting my pronunciation. Every time she did this I’d stop and look at her over the menu and she’d giggle and ask to be excused.

We had a great meal, shared a bottle of wine and she insisted on paying the bill – which was good as I have not received a paycheck yet.

When we got home Angela wanted to play “If you can catch me you can fuck me.” This entailed her running through the apartment nude with me in hot pursuit. It seemed as though it would be easy enough to catch somebody in a small apartment but it wasn’t. She was in fine fettle and leaped over the bed, dodged around the dining table and broke my grasp at least three times before she was subdued on the living room carpet.

Even then she kept crossing her legs and squirming all over the place making it extremely difficult for me to achieve penetration. When I did manage to get it in she went crazy and we ended up rolling all over the floor. At one point I pinned her down holding on to her wrists and I just looked down at her, and said, “Fuck – you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled and started to move up and down on me. I bent my head and kissed her. It was just a gentle kiss but it lit her fire and the next thing I knew she’d broken free and grabbing my hair with both hands she kissed me back passionately sticking her tongue into my mouth as far as it would go.

The tongue wrestling went on for a few minutes and then, not being able to restrain myself any further, I started to move my ass in quick time. The sweat began to drip off of me as I increased the pace, even more, then her body started to tremble violently and we both began to call out obscenities as we reached that moment of rapture together.

After we had recovered our strength we retired to the bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Bob arrived back in the office at around ten in the morning and I was not sure what the problem was but I assumed that Elise had screwed up on some deliveries. You could hear them both yelling all over the office. It made me think that Taylor might not have to interfere with their wedding plans, as after such a bitter confrontation their relationship could easily end up in tatters.

Taylor appeared in the office about 11 o’clock, oblivious to the battle that had taken place earlier. Like yesterday she was bubbly and in the best of spirits and at 12 noon she insisted that I go to lunch with her.

We just went across the street to the little Turkish restaurant again. It was over a great cup of coffee that Taylor sprung a big surprise on me.

“Tomorrow my father wants you to drive me to look at a car he saw advertised in Karlsruhe – if I like it I’ll drive it back.”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow.”


“I don’t work on Saturday.”

“Not even if your employer wants you to and is prepared to pay you a bonus to do so?”

“I’ve always understood I work a five-day week.”

“Konrad,” she pleaded, “I want you to do this for me – I’ve always been good to you haven’t I?”

I think she was referring to the blowjob and not the number of lunches she’d bought me.

“It’s not that Taylor,” I said, “Angela’s home and I don’t know how to explain that I’m driving to Karlsruhe with a beautiful young woman.”

“O – so you do think I’m beautiful.”

“Of course.”

She flickered her eyelids, “Thank you.”

“Now can we get back to discussing this trip tomorrow?” I asked, getting a bit agitated.

“Meet me at the office at 9 a.m. and just tell that Angela of yours that you’re going with my Dad.”

“That would be lying.”

“Yes it would but I’m sure it will not your first time.”

I couldn’t argue with that and so not wanting to displease my boss after such a short time on the job I decided I’d do it. Taylor demonstrated her gratitude by getting up from her chair and giving me a kiss right on the lips. Unfortunately for me, that happened to be at the very moment Paula walked in to buy her lunch.

When I got home that evening I opened the door to find a man dressed like a workman sitting in a chair with a tool bag by his side. I was not sure if it was one of Angela’s ex-husbands and so I just stood there by the door and waited for him to speak. He got up from his chair, extended his hand and introduced himself as Pierre Aubert.

He smiled, “Don’t be alarmed Monsieur Max, Angela sent me.”

He went on to explained that Angela had driven home at 3.30 in the afternoon and saw two suspicious men seemingly staking out the building. “They’re still outside,” he said, “By the black Citroen.”

A bit befuddled by it all I went over to the window and looked out cautiously. Sure enough, there were two men standing by a car wearing dark glasses and looking straight up at the apartment.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“I’m not absolutely sure but they may present a danger to Angela, in her line of work it’s easy to make enemies.”

“What is her line of work?”

“That’s classified.”

“I thought it would be.”

Aubert smiled as if he understood my frustration. Then he told me to pack all my things and leave no papers or anything that could link me to Angela. “This is a recent development, I don’t think they know about you.”

“They must have seen me when I came in.”

“There are several tenants in this building from their point of view you could be any one of them,” he said.

“And where am I suppose to go ?” I asked.

He handed me a fist full of money and told me to find a hotel in another area, pay cash and register under an assumed name. He handed me a cell phone

“Take this,” he said, “Angela will call you on this number when she feels it safe to do so – until then don’t tell anyone about this matter.”

I was beginning to feel like a secret agent and it was quite exciting but I have to admit that inwardly I was scared shitless. When I’d grabbed my things he told me to exit out of the back door and get a cab. He left by the front – the way he’d come in.

Unfortunately, I tend to travel with far too much luggage and so I was completely shagged out by the time I found my way on to Zurich and got a cab. I was so paranoid by this time I didn’t even trust the cab driver. I told him to proceed along Quai des Pecheurs and cross the river at Avenue de la Liberte then onto the Cathedral. I got him to drop me outside the main door and I looked around and saw the Hotel Cathedral which looked very presentable and I booked myself in as Justin Trudeau, which was the name of the current Canadian Prime Minister. In the circumstances, I thought I had better maintain my sense of humor.

It was a great hotel but I hardly slept a wink

Even though I woke up feeling like shit I felt I had to keep my appointment with Taylor. I turned up in the cab half an hour late and she was obviously beginning to get anxious.

“I tried to phone your number and it’s no longer in service,” she said.

I was taken by surprise but said it was probably because Angela had not paid the bill. “She forgets things like that all the time,” I laughed, trying to casually pass it off.

Even though I tried to weasel out of taking this trip we soon got on our way to Karlsruhe. I didn’t say much on the journey while Taylor chattered incessantly. When we finally reached our destination we took a look at the car, a 2009 Porche, and she decided she didn’t like the color combination.

The highlight of the day was finding an Italian restaurant called the Aposto where we had an incredible lunch. After that, it was simply a matter of returning to Strasbourg where things got a little complicated.

Taylor drove the return journey and as my mind was preoccupied I didn’t pay too much attention to where she was going. The next thing I knew we were heading for Angela’s apartment.

“I’ll drop you off at your place,” she said, with a yawn indicating that I had been less than good company.

“No” I yelled in panic, “Don’t even drive past.”

Taylor was taken by surprise and quickly turned up the Rue des Bateliers narrowly avoiding a bicycle parked on the edge of the sidewalk.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she cried as she struggled to retain control of the wheel.

“I don’t live there at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for a while as she concentrated on negotiating the traffic on the narrow street. However, when we drew into the Place de Zurich she pulled over and turned to me with a quizzical look on her face.

“So – you’re not living with Angela anymore?”

“It’s not that exactly.”

“Are you living with her or not?”

“It’s just that she’s not there at the moment – she’s,” I hesitated, “Away.”

“And she doesn’t want you to live there while she’s away?”

“I’m sorry – I can’t explain it – there’s some secrecy involved.”

“OK,” she said impatiently, “Where do I drop you off?”

“Anywhere – I’ll take a cab the rest of the way.”

“No – you came out to help me today – I’ll drop you off wherever you’re staying – where are you staying?”

“I really can’t tell you,” I replied, feeling like a complete fool.

“Are you sick or something?” she queried, feeling my forehead.

“No,” I said, thinking fast on my feet, “To be honest with you Angela is in a kind of witness protection program at the moment and she doesn’t want me to become involved. We both have to lie low for the time being.”



So you’re both living in the same hideout?”

“No I’m living in one place and she in another.”

Taylor perked up. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to cheer you up,” she smiled, pulling back into the street. “I’m going to take you back to my place where you can rest while I make dinner for you.” She turned to me with a look of sheer admiration on her face, “ You’re an absolute hero to come out with me today when your life could be in danger – you’ve gone up three notches in my book.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that but I did know that I had become trapped in my own rhetoric and I was now bound for her apartment on Rue Zurich.

When we arrived I asked her if her Dad would mind me dropping in for dinner but she told me he had gone to Paris for the weekend. The plot seemed to thicken.

As it was still early afternoon it was too early for dinner and so Taylor opened a bottle of wine and we sat on the sofa together. It was a bit like a de je vu moment reminding me of the last glass of wine I’d shared with her future stepmother.

“You’re not the only one who’s had to hide out for a while,” she said, her beautifully shaped lips pausing before taking another sip of wine. “I did something really crazy once and my guardian wouldn’t let me out of the house for almost three months. I had to do homeschooling for that time and when my confinement was over she sent me to another school – a girl’s only school.”

I was intrigued by her admission but I restrained myself from asking her the details. She didn’t let me off that easy.

“If you’re interested I show you what I did,” she said.

I could hardly say I don’t care a shit what you did and so she left the room and came back with her laptop.

“I can’t believe I did this,” she said, firing up the computer, “But I just intended it to be private – something I could get off on occasionally, unfortunately, the douche bag who made the video sent it out to his friends and it went viral. ”

She punched something in on the keyboard and up came a scene with Taylor, and a guy she said was her boyfriend at the time, sitting on a sofa together. They began to kiss and the next thing his hand was slipping inside of her top. Soon the top was off all together showing a prize-winning pair of tits. At this point, I began to expand rapidly and that was only the beginning.

After a bit of tit kissing, she bent over and unzipped the guy’s flies and started to suck on his prize-winning dick. All the time she was doing this she was moaning as if she hadn’t eaten for weeks.

Taylor snuggled up to me a bit closer and giggled as the video got raunchier and raunchier. The couple began to tear off each other’s clothes and the guy soon had his face between her legs while she moaned and groaned and hung on to his forearms.

It wasn’t long before she was screaming fuck me, fuck me you bastard. The guy pulled her legs over the arm of the sofa and rammed his dick in as far as it would go and then his ass started to move like a fiddlers elbow. Taylor was writhing in ecstasy and cursing as she did so. When she finally reached orgasm she actually eased herself up, grabbed the guy by the hair pulled him on the top of her.

She switched off the computer and turned to me. “I was very bad to do that wasn’t I?”

I wanted to say she was very good but in fact, I was speechless.

“I’ve always been motivated sexually,” she said, “Maybe I’m even addicted.”

As she said this she put her hand around my neck and pulled my head towards her until our lips met. There was something very special about those lips because no sooner had they made contact with mine than my balls seemed to burst into flames.

Drawing away from me for a second she asked me if I’d ever made love in a sauna. I said I hadn’t had that pleasure and she informed me that they just happened to have one and led me by the hand to show it to me.

It turned out to be an amazing experience as our two bodies, dripping with sweat, pounded against each other in an upright position and then she leaned against the wall I penetrated her from behind. I took hold of her gorgeous ass and drove it to her a mile a minute. When I blew my load I threw my arms around her and held onto her tits, as I continued to ram it into her cavity in an effort to give her the full contents of my balls.

I don’t think we’d been dried off and dressed for more than ten minutes when the door to the apartment opened and in stepped Bob and Elise. Bob, a bit shocked to see me there, explained that they had decided not to go to Paris. Elise looked at me as though I was the lowest vermin on earth.

Taylor was a bit flustered but she took her Dad by the arm and in one corner of the room whispered in his ear. Elise, wondering what was going on, looked somewhat alarmed but when he came over to me and said he was sorry about the situation I was in I could see her sigh with relief. I figured that at first, she thought that I’d talked to Taylor about our little fling together.

Bob told me I could rely on his support and said I could take a few weeks off if I needed to. I said I didn’t think that was necessary but I thanked him for his kind consideration. It did worry me a little when he shared the details of my predicament with Elise but I guess it was the natural thing to do as she was going to be his wife.

I was pleasantly surprised at Taylor’s culinary skills even though I didn’t have much appetite. What made it difficult for me to fully appreciate the food was the fact that she sat across from me, and every time she placed a morsel in her mouth she’d close her eyes and savor it, then lick her lips, open up her eyes again and smile at me. If we’d have been alone I would have thrown her onto that table and fucked between the chicken cordon bleu and the scalloped potatoes.

Back in the hotel, under the influence of wine and completely shagged out I slept like a log.

I slept until 10 am and I only woke then because the cell phone rang. It was Angela.

“Don’t tell me where you are,” she began, and then went on to say she was sorry that I “might” be in danger because of her. She went on to tell me not to worry, be careful, that she’d see me soon and ended up by saying she missed me. That was it – she simply rang off.

To say I was confused at that moment would be another understatement. I liked Strasbourg; I liked living with Angela and I liked my job but this particular situation was making me wish I was back in Canada.

By the time I had showered it was too late to eat breakfast and so I wandered around the streets for a while and then went into a beautiful old restaurant called Le Gruber. The atmosphere was breathtaking, and I wasn’t the only one to think so as it was quite crowded for lunch. I was fortunate to be placed across from a very attractive young lady in her early twenties with whom I had a great conversation.

It all started when I commented on her meal – it looked delicious. She told me it was Alsatian Tart Flambe and it prompted me to order the same along with the chicken in Riesling sauce.

She knew from my very bad French that I was not a local. I explained that I was a Canadian with German roots and she said she was French with German roots. Her name turned out to be a mixture of the two – Gisèle Gassmann.

“My English speaking friends called me Gigi,” she laughed, “Have you got a nickname?”

I had to admit that I hadn’t although some of the kids at my school did call me a “Square Head.” She thought that was rather funny and we just kept rambling on. I found out that she sewed, what she described as little whimsies, which she sold through local stores.

“I own a small building on the edge of Petit France,” she said, referring to the very old touristy part of town, “ I live and work on the top two floors and rent the rest,” she smiled, “My living space is a little cramped but it’s all mine – I have my independence – that’s very important to me.”

I told her that I was staying with a female friend but there was a small problem at the moment and so I was living in a hotel. She didn’t question me any further on this and so our conversation strayed into favorite movies, music, and even philosophy.

As the restaurant was doing a brisk business and they probably had someone waiting for our space we left together and once outside I asked if we could continue our discussion over dinner. She hesitated for a few moments and I had to turn on my “lost in Strasbourg look,” which solicited an OK and a smile.

I arranged to meet her outside the Cathedral at 7 pm and zipped back to my hotel to look up some nice quiet restaurant on my computer. I was quite excited about my dinner date but not in the romantic sense – Gigi just seemed like a nice girl, she has a good sense of humor and she’s interested in many of the things I’m interested in. She was quite pretty but not as glamorous as Angela; as exotic as Elise or a California blond like Taylor. She was just pretty.

I felt terribly alone isolated in the hotel. Her company during lunch had cheered me up a great deal and I sure need some cheering at that time.

As I stood outside the Cathedral I was a bit doubtful about her turning up but a couple of minutes before seven there she was. That afternoon she’d been casual with a jacket and jeans, now she was elegant in a dress and a very smart coat.

We got a cab and drove to the Le Caquelon restaurant on the Rue des Tonneliers. It looked very cozy on the internet and very French. I didn’t want to show off and take her to some of the places that I frequented with Angela – I figured Gigi was a down to earth kind of girl and she would just appreciate a good meal. I was right.

She had never been to the restaurant before and seemed to enjoy the ambiance as I did. We had a fruit salad and a three cheese fondue and passed on dessert as we were both quite full. Gigi didn’t drink and so I just had one glass of wine and we finished off with coffee.

When it was time to go she invited me for further coffee at her place but she stipulated, “No kissing – no hugging – just coffee.”

I agreed wholeheartedly because quite frankly I was almost fed up with sex – I really craved for an intellectual relationship – particularly with a member of the opposite sex. When we arrived at her place we first took a look at her workshop on the third floor and some of her whimsical products made from various materials. I was quite impressed. However, this did not prepare me for her little apartment upstairs.

In spite of it being a bit cramped, it was really cute. The place had been modernized but very tastefully so. It still has the old gnarled beams, lots of wood paneling and a real warm feeling about it.

I must admit that sex did cross my mind for a few moments when she showed me the bedroom. There on the side table, a single candle flickered in a crystal container and the faint smell of roses filled the air. The bed, dressed out in white and trimmed with old-fashioned lace was big enough for two but I was abruptly brought back to reality when she announced she was going to put the coffee on.

When she poured the steaming hot coffee into my cup I noticed how delicately she did everything. She laid out linen napkins, plates, and forks and I was soon staring down at a rather large piece of Black Forest cake. It was a perfect end to a wonderful evening, two people with mutual interests enjoying each other’s company over a cup of Mocha Java.

It was almost midnight when I left and she kissed me gently on the cheek and thanked me for dinner and she said she hoped we could do it again.

I walked back to the hotel feeling like a schoolboy. As much as I’ve enjoyed my passionate encounters there’s nothing quite like meeting someone who is sensitive, feminine and who looks you right in the eye when you talk to them.

As I lay in bed I started to think of Angela and in my mind, I started to build a case against her to justify the fact that I had not only cheated with Elise and Taylor but I was a becoming infatuated with someone else. I began by reasoning that she only brought me over to Strasbourg to satisfy her lust and use me as an errand boy; she didn’t show any decency or consideration when she slept with her ex right in front of me and now I’m hiding out in a hotel because she put me in danger.

After I’d mulled over the details, again and again, I had to admit that she had been very good to me; I knew she really cared about me and I cared for her. Life just gets messy sometimes and I wasn’t sure if I mature enough to handle the messy details.

Took a cab, got to work on time and really got stuck into my binding. I really tried all day to put Gigi to the back of my mind. Taylor brought me some material and gave me a sly wink – but it didn’t do a thing for me. Elise, who obviously knew that I’d been fucking Taylor gave me an evil look as though she might be planning some form of revenge and Paula just gave a little giggle occasionally as if she knows something. I was convinced that woman was a psychic.

Taylor invited me to lunch again and I tried to say I was too busy but the little bitch wouldn’t take no for an answer. On the way out of course, we had to go and bump into Elise. She made some snide remark I didn’t quite catch but Taylor obviously did as she turned and gave her the finger.

During lunch, Taylor leaned over and whispered, “I bet you’re curious about my plans for Elise.”

I had to admit I was but then she said she had a great plan but she wasn’t going to tell me what it was. Wasn’t sure how much time she had but I understood the wedding would be quite soon so I figured she’d have to get a move on.

The afternoon was uneventful. Bob slipped into the workroom a couple of times to see how things were going and to give me a pat on the back. I had a rush of guilt each time I saw him, he was a really nice guy and I’d violated the two people he cared about most. Didn’t make me feel too proud.

Back at the hotel I showered and changed and tried to think of where to go for a bite to eat. I really tried to keep Gigi out of my mind because I thought I was too involved with too many women already and if we started to go out together and she found out it could be awful.

I sat on the bed hoping perhaps Angela would call and say that the danger, whatever it was, was now over and we could go back to living our lives the way they were before. But there was no call, I didn’t have an appetite for eating alone and in the end, my resistance gave way and I walked down to Gigi’s place and pretended that I wanted to buy something for my mother.

She seemed pleased to see me and showed me a few things that might be of interest to a middle-aged North American woman but as I couldn’t make up my mind. In the end, she called my bluff.

“You really didn’t come in here to buy anything did you?”

I was a little taken back by her forthright attitude but I admitted it was just an excuse to see her again and I asked her if she’d go for dinner with me.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said, “

“Why don’t we order a Pizza and when it arrives I’ll close up and we can dine here,” then she added, “No kissing, no hugging just…”

“Pizza,” I said.

We both had a good laugh over that.

When the pizza arrived she even insisted on paying as I’d spent so much on her the night before.

Up in the apartment, she put the coffee on and laid the table nicely for our pepperoni, bacon, and onion treat. Over, (what I call supper), we talked about our respective lives. First, she told me about hers; the fact she was born to a single mother in Lyons; how she dropped out of school to follow her desire to be a designer of some kind; and how an older man she met financed her building for her.

“Do you still have a relationship with this man?” I asked.

“No, he died two years ago. His family was very angry with me and they tried to take the building away from me but I fought them and won.”

Her admission gave me the opening I needed to confess about Angela. I reeled off the whole story but had to tell her, as I had told Taylor, that she was in some sort of witness protection program at the moment and I was affected by it. She seemed to take it all in her stride but she did ask me if I was in love with her.

“I don’t think so,” I said, “I like her a lot and she’s been very good to me but I don’t see any future in just continuing the relationship for no reason.”

“Except for sex,” she said bluntly.

I really didn’t know how to answer her and she could see that I was embarrassed. She took my hand, “Just take things a day at a time,” she said, “If you rush into or out of a situation it can lead to a lot of unhappiness.”

Neither of us said anything for a while as we continued with our meal but then she stopped eating and looked at me with her head to one side.

“I’m curious to know why you’re so interested in me?”

I wondered how many more blunt questions she was going to come up with.

“I’m attracted to you,” I said, trying to be equally forthright.

“And what attracts you to me?”

“You have qualities I admire.”

“What qualities are those?”

“I can have a great conversation with you,” I began, then found it difficult to continue and gave up, “Shit – I can’t explain it – I just like you – and you’re very beautiful.”

I guess I came over as been irritable and she took my hand again, “I’m sorry for asking you so many questions – why don’t I clear up and we can watch a movie together – I have the DVD of The Names of Love – it’s a comedy – in French of course – would that interest you?”

I was just interested in having company and I wasn’t concerned that I might miss out on a lot of the dialogue.

“That’s OK with me,” I replied, “I love French movies.”

She put on the movie and we sat on the sofa together. Naturally, I was dying to snuggle up to her but we sat at least two feet apart. The show proved to be very funny and a bit sexy and everything was going well until my cell phone rang. It was Angela.

“Are you OK ?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“I think we can return to normal by the end of the week,” she said, “The situation is being taken care of. I can’t wait to fuck your brains out.” With this, she laughed and rang off.

I presume these short calls are a precaution but I’m not complaining because I would have been in an awkward position if she’d have asked where I was or who I was with.

Gigi had got up to grab the remote to put the TV on pause while I was on the phone. When she sat down again we were only one foot apart. I almost wished that the phone would ring again thinking that maybe she’d get even closer.

When Baya, the leading character in the movie, talks about always having sex on the first date, Gigi and I unconsciously looked at each other and then quickly turned our attention back to the screen.

“I’m not so sure that this was a good choice of movie,” she commented, looking at me.

“It’s a very funny movie,” I said, “I’m enjoying it.”

At this point, she moved up closer and sort of leaned on me. I wasn’t sure whether to put my arm around her or not but after five or ten minutes talking about it I moved around in my seat and slipped it around her shoulder. She didn’t object.

Even though the actress in the movie was tearing the man’s clothes off it didn’t make me want to suddenly jump on Gigi. I realize now that it was because I respected her.

At eight-thirty we had our last cup of coffee as she said that she had some work to do before morning. Seeing me off at the door she suddenly said she was going to break one of her rules and she kissed me on the lips. I tried to slip my arm around her narrow waist for a more passionate replay but she quickly pushed me away.

“I didn’t say you could break the rules,” she laughed.

On the way home I had a major shock. Right outside the hotel door were two dark-suited men wearing sunglasses. I had no idea if they were the men that were hanging around outside the apartment but it spooked me. Consequently, I walked straight passed and decided that I might find another place for the night. I ended up checking into the Hotel Gutenberg.

What a morning. Still, a little shaken by the possibility that I might be in mortal danger, I grabbed a quick coffee and made my way back to the Hotel Cathedral. There were no men outside the door so I went up to my room and phoned work to say I would be a little late. I changed my clothes and furtively left the hotel looking around every so often to make sure I was not been followed.

Instead of getting a cab this morning I rented a bike, thinking it would save money and also give me much-needed exercise. I arrived at the office at around 9.30 and sat down and finished off the book I was binding the day before. However, my mind was not on my job.

I began to think about Gigi and I decided I should not contact her again until things are back to normal. I certainly didn’t want to get her involved. The office was relatively quiet today as Bob and a number of staff members were having a seminar at a local hotel. Presumably, Taylor was there with him but Elise had stayed back and was in charge of the office once again.

At 12 noon she let what remained of the staff go for lunch saying she would cover the phones. I was about to leave when Elise said she wanted to discuss some additional material that Bob had decided needed binding. This involved going into the storeroom and once inside she locked the door and smiled at me.

“I should be very annoyed with you,” she said, “You’ve been fucking my future stepdaughter.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, trying to look quite put out by the suggestion.

“I know what she’s like,” she replied, “I knew when we found you alone with her in the apartment she wouldn’t have been able to keep her hands off of you.”

“Perhaps she has more self-control than you think.”

“She has no more self-control than I have,” she sneered and started to remove her panties, “Now it’s not fair for you to fuck the daughter and deny the mother her little pleasures.”

She pulled up her short skirt and sat on the edge of the table. The sight of Elise’s long shapely legs and her eager beaver would have excited any man and I was certainly no exception. I zipped open my flies as she opened her legs wider to accommodate me.

It certainly wasn’t a romantic interlude, it was fast and furious with Elise holding onto my shoulders as the table slowly moved across the storeroom floor. When it crashed against the wall and I gave a few sharp powerful thrusts she responded to my final burst of fire by repeating “Leave it in, leave it in.”

She hung on to me for what seemed to be several minutes and then slipped off the table and told me casually I could go to lunch if I wanted to. Sometimes I think she’s a robot of some kind or an alien – be it a very beautiful one.

Feeling a bit like a piece of shit that someone trod in I ambled off for a coffee and a sandwich. As I sat in the little Turkish restaurant full of office workers, many of them pretty young women, I started to review my life.

I would certainly like to quit my job at Selemax just to get away from Elise and Taylor but I don’t really want to let Bob down. He’s like a little boy and he desperately wants to get all the volumes I’m binding displayed in his office. It seems he thinks it will create an atmosphere of professionalism and it’s obvious he also wants to impress the executives from the American HQ when they visit.

If I am to continue working at the company I have to find a way to avoid being alone with those two sex-crazed women. That’s not going to be easy.

I spent a lonely evening in my hotel room watching TV. Ate alone in the restaurant and went to bed. Tried not to think of Gigi.

Biked to work early and picked up a wrap and a coffee to eat at the office. Paula turned up a few minutes later with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other. Apparently, the book, which she had bought the previous evening, listed all the things that happened on certain days in history. The usually quiet redhead continued to bombard me with uninteresting facts for the rest of the day.

As an example, she informed me that the first air crash victim was a Frenchman named Eugene Lefebvre, who took a nosedive on this day in 1909. Before I could fully digest that fact she skipped to 1911 when French poet Guillaume Apollinaire was arrested on suspicion of stealing the Mona Lisa from the Louvre.

When Taylor entered the room all bubbly, dressed in a bright red outfit and smelling of some exotic perfume Paula quickly put the book away and pretended to be engrossed in her work. Taylor came over to me with a big smile and told me that she had found the best place to buy a cheeseburger in the whole of France and she was treating me to lunch.

As it seemed useless to say no to either of Bob’s women, I just went along with it. My plan now was to work as hard as I could to complete the books and then possibly enter a monastery!

At 12 sharp Taylor drove me over to Le Pied de Mammoth, the hamburger joint on Rue Selleneck. I must say it was the best burger and fries I’ve had since I left Toronto. During lunch, she decided to confide her anti-matrimonial plans to me as she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

“I bought these two tiny surveillance cameras from an electronics store and I managed to place one in Elise’s apartment during a “friendly visit” and the other one I put in the storeroom at the office because that was where I caught her with the salesman.” She went on to explain that they transmitted a signal to a recorder she’d concealed in her Dad’s office.

“I’m going to play them back tomorrow to see if I caught any fish,” she laughed, “Do you want to join me for the premiere?”

Feeling quite faint as it appeared that my activities had been recorded on candid camera I declined her offer and lost my appetite at the same time.

In the afternoon I was trying to figure out how I could get into Bob’s office and destroy the recorder while Paula kept annoying with more fascinating facts about the 7th September, which apparently was the day in 1927 when the first fully electronic television system was achieved by Philo Farnsworth. I wonder if my fucking the boss’s future wife on a storeroom table on the 6th September will eventually go down in some history book.

I was not given the opportunity to search Bob’s office because he was in conference most of the day and even if I had been able to gain access I wouldn’t have known where to search. There was no alternative but to suffer and perhaps hope that the two men in dark glasses might gun me down before I was exposed as a low down fornicator.

There were no suspicious men in dark glasses outside the hotel when I arrived back from work. I had to put my panic down to an overactive imagination. They were probably just two guys who thought it made them look mysterious if they wore tinted lenses after dark.

In spite of feeling better about being hunted down by hired assassins, I still thought I should stay clear of Gigi for the time being, although I think of her continuously. I had supper tonight at Le Gruber the place where we met and managed to get the same table.

As I sat there pretending that she was sitting across from me I wondered if my emotions were getting out of control?

As I peddled my way to work I was dreading walking in the building thinking that Taylor might have examined the recordings and made my indiscretion public knowledge. Expecting the shit to hit the fan I kept a low profile. Paula had left her book at home, thank God and I just got with my work the best I could.

I didn’t get invited to lunch – in fact, I made do with a bag of peanuts and raisins as my stomach was not feeling receptive to real food. However, Taylor didn’t suddenly run into the room shouting scum bag; I didn’t see Bob chasing Elise down the street brandishing a shotgun and so I thought I might get through at least one more day of bookbinding.

When I was about to leave, just after five I was cornered by Taylor who wanted me to see her new Porche her dad had bought her. I was a little nervous as she asked me to sit in the passenger seat and feel the luxurious leather.

When she climbed in beside me she was very excited and produced a small portable device with a screen. My heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

“Guess what I’ve got?” she cried excitedly.

My mouth was too dry to answer and I let her babble on.

“The fucking camera in the storeroom malfunctioned,” she said, “But the one in the apartment hit pay dirt.”

My heart started beating again and I looked up to heaven and murmured “Thank you.”

“You won’t believe who’s been screwing the ass off Elise,” she said.

I said I hadn’t a clue and she switched on the screen and there was Elise’s apartment with two bodies bouncing up and down on the bed. The guy was on top and all I could see was his bare ass but a few minutes into this video spectacular, with exceptional sound, they changed positions and the identity was revealed.

“Holy shit – it’s Sacha the office boy.”

“I always thought he was a perverted little bastard,” she said, “But I never expected to find him in bed with Elise.”

Becoming quite serious she then asked my advice about how she could tell her father.

“Even though I’m doing him a good turn he may never forgive me for this,” she said with tears in her eyes.

I told her that what she’d done was illegal and that she would have to be very careful.

“Think it over carefully,” I said, “There may be some way you can bring the facts to light without involving yourself. I’ll give it some thought.

Taylor said the wedding was in a couple of weeks and so she didn’t have a lot of time but she wouldn’t do anything until she had spoken to me again.

I got out of the Porsche and onto my bike and thanked my lucky stars that the camera in the storeroom had malfunctioned. When I arrived at the hotel I got a phone call from Angela advising me that we were both in the clear. The bad guys had apparently been arrested in France and the gang leaders abroad.

“I’ll be home in the morning – I’ll see you there,” she said.

It’s funny but if I had a place of my own I would prefer not to go back but my salary was not really enough to rent anything decent in this expensive city dripping with high paid diplomats and civil servants. I had to face up to the fact that I was stuck for the moment. I planned to get up early the following morning, check out of the hotel and move my bags. However, I had a desperate urge to see Gigi again.

It was about six when I arrived at her building. I climbed up the two flights of stairs to her workshop, knocked gently on the door and walked in. A big smile appeared on her face. “Hi – I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“It’s been exactly sixty-nine and a half hours,” I said.

“Wow – you must have been counting.”

“Every minute,” I replied.

She ignored my remarked that perhaps conjured up some sort of romantic attachment that she wasn’t ready for and simply went back to her sewing.

“I wanted to tell you about a few things that have changed in my life,” I said, “I’d really like to take you out to dinner and talk.”

“It’s too expensive to keep going out to dinner,” she said.

“I can afford it at the moment.”

“I don’t care about that – I shall start feeling some kind of obligation if you keep spending money on me. You go for a walk around town or something and come back in an hour – I rustle up a meal for us.”

“Why can’t I watch you – or even help.”

“That would distract me – I would rather you make yourself scarce for an hour. So off you go and come back at seven.”

Having no choice but to go along with her I went out into the Petite France area and just started to browse the store windows. It’s an enchanted place with cobbled streets and half-timbered buildings centuries old. It’s a bit like being caught in a fairytale.

As I was walking by one of the canals I suddenly realized that I had not phoned my mother for about a week and if she’d phoned me she would have got a disconnect message. As I had a government phone I thought I would make the call to Canada at their expense.

I sat in a doorway and rang her. We had a long conversation, I told her that I was busy working and she was grateful for that but of course my grandparents in Buende had told her I was having an affair with Angela and that had not gone down too well.

It was not easy to explain an affair to my mother who only believes in sex between married people and would assume that if Angela and I were participating in such behavior it was merely a prelude to marriage.

“She’s so much older than you,” she said, “And much more a woman of the world. She’s been married twice you know.”

Twice – I was not aware of, but I didn’t let on about my ignorance but pacified her by saying I was thinking things over very carefully.

When I got back to Gigi’s place I had to bang on the door of the workshop to get her attention. The stairs to her attic apartment are only accessible through there and I was worried in case she’d played a trick and didn’t intend to open the door. But she did and I noticed at once that she had changed her dress and looked absolutely fabulous.

When we got up to the apartment I found the table was laid out beautifully and she told me to sit down while she finished things off. After a few minutes sitting there twiddling my thumbs, I got up and went around the corner into the kitchen. She stood at the counter preparing some salad and I couldn’t help but admire her trim figure and lovely bum. I walked up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist. It was a bad move. She turned around quite angrily and told me to back to the sitting area.

I felt a bit like a scolded little boy sitting there but I knew that I was at fault and that I had probably offended her. I regretted making such a stupid move and as soon as she reappeared with a tray of food I apologized.

“That’s OK.” She said, “Let’s eat.”

The meal consisted of baked pork chops with Sauer kraut and baked potatoes accompanied by a green salad. Before she sat down she opened the cupboard behind her and produced a little surprise.

“I thought you might be back one day and so I bought a bottle of wine.”

She handed me the bottle with a bottle opener and a wine glass. As I poured the wine I looked at her and she at me. I took a sip of my wine and then decided to speak my mind regardless of how it was taken. As my mother used to say “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Gigi,” I said, my hand trembling and some of my wine spilling on the cloth, “I know it sounds crazy but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She continued eating and didn’t look up at me for a few seconds.

“It does sound crazy, you’re living with a woman who you obviously have feelings for and now you suddenly want to turn your attention to someone else.”

I tried to explain how the relationship with Angela began but it sounded so phony I never really finished what I planned to say. As usual, my appetite was suffering but I forced myself to eat because she had gone to so much trouble.

After dinner, I insisted on helping to wash the dishes. We conducted the exercise in silence and she would look at me occasionally and shake her head.

When we’d finished I simply turned to her and said, ”I’ve obviously screwed things up tonight and so it would probably be better if I left.”

She didn’t say anything as I made for the door but when I turned to thank her for the meal she walked over to me with tears in her eyes, threw her arms around my neck and said, “Please don’t go.”

I kissed the tears from her eyes and then our lips met. It must have been fifteen minutes before she moved back and asked if I would like to watch another movie.

I knew she didn’t want this lovemaking to go any further at this time and so I said I’d love to. While she sorted through her collection of DVDs I sat on the sofa in eager anticipation that we would at least snuggle together.

“Do you like Gerard Depardieu movies,” she asked, “I have an old one here that I really like – it’s called Too Beautiful for You – have you heard of it?”

I said I hadn’t but that I had seen several of his movies and found him to be an outstanding actor. Gigi agreed and putting the DVD in the slot she joined me on the sofa and she didn’t object when I put my arms around her.

Even though the Depardieu movie was very entertaining I must admit that I spent more time glancing at Gigi’s lovely face and when she laughed at some sequence or other it was like music to my ears.

The wine bottle remained on the table and I would occasionally top up my glass and I lost track of just how much I’d consumed. By the end of the show, I was feeling a little dizzy and Gigi asked if I was alright.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I think I’ve drunk too much wine, I usually never drink more than a couple of glasses and I seemed to have consumed most of the bottle.”

“You shouldn’t go home if you don’t feel well, you can sleep here on the sofa.”

She asked me if I wanted her to make coffee but I declined and she brought me a pillow and a blanket and help me settle down. That’s all I remember.

I was in the middle of a weird and wonderful dream when I was awoken by Gigi leaning over me with a cup of coffee.

“It’s 7.30 – do you have to go to work this morning?”

It took me a few moments to get my bearings and then holding my head I managed to stammer that I was due in a 9. I managed to get the coffee down but I left the croissant she brought me later.

Gigi seemed quite concerned and ushered me into the bathroom where she had laid out a new toothbrush and a clean towel.

“Perhaps you should phone your work and tell them that you can’t make it today,” she suggested.

I nodded as I looked in the mirror I saw this ghastly face looking back at me.

“OK.” I’ll do that,” I said, forgetting all about the fact that I had promised Angela that I would be back at the apartment this morning. However, I knew if she didn’t have to go to work she’d be in bed until midday and so I hoped for the best.

I left the bathroom feeling more refreshed and I told Gigi that I had to collect my bags from the hotel and go back to the apartment as Angela was back home. She looked a little downcast and I lifted her chin and gave her a light kiss.

“I’ll get things sorted out and give you a call – I love you Gigi.”

She didn’t reply, she simply nodded and moved to clear away my coffee cup and uneaten croissant.

Before I checked out of the hotel I phoned Bob to tell him that the emergency with Angela was over, she was back home and would he mind if I took the day off.

“I can come in tomorrow, I said, “To catch up with my work.”

Bob wouldn’t hear of such a thing and told me to take off whatever time I needed, he even invited Angela and me to have dinner with him and Elise sometime the following week. I thought that would be a hoot.

When I got to the apartment Angela wasn’t in bed she was sitting at the table, that was covered in papers, drinking coffee. She greeted me with a kiss but not that passionate one I’d expected, and then she became serious and invited me to sit down.

I’ve been authorized by the agency to tell you just a little about my work so you will understand why we have both been hiding out these last few days. My job is to track down stolen antiquities taken from places like Iraq, Afghanistan, and other conflict zones. Some of these artifacts are worth millions of dollars and are prized by some rich and powerful people for their private collections. Naturally, they don’t want to be exposed as receivers of stolen goods and that’s why job can be dangerous at times.”

“Visa vis the two men in dark glasses.”

“Exactly – that’s the most serious situation I have encountered so far.” She paused and looked at me with a sorrowful look on her face, “That’s not all I have to tell you about my job,” she paused again and fiddled with some of the papers, “The agency wants me to go to New York to work with the United Nations.”

“Wow,” was about all I could say.

“It’s a great step up in my career Konrad I can’t really afford to miss the opportunity.”

“I understand – you don’t owe me anything – you’ve been very kind and opened up a whole new life to me.”

“I’m glad you think of it that way,” she said with a little smile. “If you’re planning to stay on in Strasbourg I will help you to find a new place to live and I’ll pay the first couple of months rents for you.”

I told her I would prefer to stand on my own feet and even-handed her the fifteen hundred Euro I had left from what her colleague had given me.”

“O you keep that – that’s been written off by the agency.”

I sighed with relief and then asked her when she was due to leave.

“I have to leave on Sunday night so I have a lot of arrangements to make but don’t worry we’ll be able to spend some time together.” She then looked at me quizzically, “Don’t you have to go to work today?”

I lied and said that I’d asked for the day off because she was back home.

“That’s sweet,” she said, “You can help me to get ready.”

It looked as though she was not going to have time to help me find a place and within the hour she had taken off somewhere leaving me alone contemplating my future. About 10.30 the phone rang and Taylor was on the line.

“Konrad – I really have to talk to you – I expected you at work today – have you got time to meet me for lunch?”

I’m really fed up with eating in restaurants and so I suggested she came over to the apartment and I would make some lunch for us. The phone went dead for a moment and then she asked, “What about your lady friend?”

“It’s OK,” I said, feeling a little sadness as I continued, “She’s just my friend now and she’s leaving the country on Sunday.”

“So you’re a free agent,” she said.

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s not worry about at the moment – let’s look after your immediate problem.”

With that, I asked her to give me an hour to pick up a few groceries and then to come round.

When Taylor arrived I had made a pile of club sandwiches and a pot of coffee. She sat down and looked a little uneasy; almost as if she was scared Angela would come back.

After we’d polished off our lunch she laid out her plan before me and it was I that became scared. First, she told me that she’d planted some listening devices in various parts of the office including that of Elise and she heard her arrange to meet Sasha at her apartment on Saturday morning.

I told her that I thought she was probably violating the law but this didn’t seem to faze her. The next part of the plan became even more worrisome – she wanted me to act as a sort of lookout.

The whole plan looked something like this: she was going to persuade her Dad that she wanted to buy an engagement present for Elise, a sort of peace offering as they frequently had disagreements. She would get him to shop with her in the street where Elise’s apartment was situated. I was to conceal myself in a store doorway across the street monitoring the video camera she had placed inside the apartment and when the couple got naked and down to business I was to signal her.

Bob had a key to the apartment and she had to get him to unlock the door quietly and they would both yell surprise!! The timing was crucial and I could see many things that could go wrong but Taylor maintained a positive attitude and begged me to do my part.

She gave me the monitoring device and showed me how to work it and was just about to leave when Angela got back.

“You have a friend over,” she observed with a little smile.

“Yes,” I replied, “I think you’ve met Taylor before.”

“Just briefly,” she said and held her hand out. “I’m Angela – has Konrad looked after you,” she asked looking at the dirty plates on the table.

“O yes – he makes a great sandwich.”

There was a little more pointless chit chat and Taylor left.

“Gosh I’m only two days from leaving the country and you’re entertaining prospective lovers.”

“I’m just helping with a scheme to surprise her future stepmother,” I laughed, “That’s all.”

Angela raised her eyebrows, “That’s what you say.”

She then went on to tell me that Barry, her ex, had phoned her while she was out and asked if he could stay the night. I said that would be OK as long as he slept on the sofa. Angela laughed out loud – you little bugger you’re out for revenge aren’t you?”

I nodded- she laughed again and shaking her head she went into the bedroom to continue her packing.

It seemed that another operative was moving in the apartment while she was away and so she didn’t have to clear everything out. She did fling a few things my way that she thought I could use including an iPhone; a French-English dictionary and a Rolex watch that she said she’d given Barry as a gift and took it back when they got divorced.

“Don’t let him see it,” she said, “he might get upset.”

I was quite happy to keep it hidden – it was a beautiful timepiece.

Later in the afternoon, I went to collect my bike from the hotel and I picked up a paper so I could look for a place. It didn’t look too promising.

Just before supper time, I called in on Gigi and tried to fill her in what was going on with Angela. I thought she might be pleased but the way I put it I’m sure it seemed like I was saying, “Now I’m off the hook I can spend more time with you.” She simply responded with silence so I knew I’d said the wrong thing.

After we’d talked for a while she seemed to come around a little and I told her that I was looking for an apartment. I thought she might have said – “Why not move in with me – but she didn’t.”

I was about to leave when she said she was just going to eat and I was welcome to stay but I’d promised to go out with Angela and Barry and so I had to turn down her kind invitation. She looked a little disappointed.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Gigi does like me a lot but I’m not sure that she trusts me. Perhaps her experience with the older man she mentioned had a negative side and as a result, she is overly cautious when it comes to relationships.

By the time I got back to the apartment the dapper Barry had arrived and after a quick shower and a change of clothes I was ready to go out on the town. Barry probably expecting to screw his ex-wife once again took us to L’Alsace à Table, which has a sentimental attachment to them and he plied her with alcohol and sweet words but then got a shock when, back at the apartment, he was relegated to the sofa for the night.

Driven by revenge I gave Angela the best fuck ever. I tantalized her with my tongue; taunted her with my fingers, and ultimately penetrated her flower with strong forceful strokes that sent her into a super orgasm and caused her to scream at the top of her lungs.

Poor Barry – I really felt sorry for him LOL.

I woke up at seven thirty and Barry was gone! He obviously didn’t wait to either shower or have a pee as he would have to have passed through the bedroom for that. Angela got up early as she still had a thousand things to do before her flight the next day. I, of course, have my 10.30 appointment playing 007 with Taylor. I’m still nervous about that.

I did buy a bunch of papers yesterday and I continued to look through them for an apartment. Even phoning places was difficult because my French is still very poor. Sometimes I can use German but not all the time. Fortunately, the new tenant will not be moving in for a few days and so Angela says I can stay until she takes over.

At ten I left the apartment with my monitor and headed for my position on Rue des Juifs. I waited in a store doorway and tested the device. Sure enough, it was bringing in a picture from Elise’s apartment and it was as clear as day. Unfortunately, Sasha was already there and he was kissing her quite furiously and had one hand groping up her skirt. I stepped out of the store doorway and looked down the street for Taylor and her dad but there was no sign of them.

I stepped back into the doorway and take another look at what was happening and bumped into a policeman who was leaving the store. Holy shit I almost passed out but after I’d offered a polite apology the cop tipped his hat and continued on his way. He probably thought I was some geek who couldn’t be pried away from his iPad.

Sasha and Elise were now ripping off each other’s clothes and backing up towards the bed as they did so. Suddenly the screen went blank and I could only assume that the camera battery had gone flat. I began to panic and stepping out into the street I strained my eyes to see if I could locate Taylor, she just happened to pop out of a store with her dad, who was carrying a huge parcel. He looked quite excited and was laughing at whatever she was saying to him.

As soon as Bob caught sight of me he greeted me with a smile, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Thinking he might get into conversation and delay the proceedings I said the first stupid thing that came into my head to Taylor, which was “The Eagle has landed,” and excused myself leaving Bob looking very confused.

I was hoping to see the climax of this operation on the monitor but that was no longer possible and so I returned to the apartment to browse the classifieds and do some phoning. Around 11.30 Taylor phoned me.

“I want to thank you for your help Konrad, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“So it went according to plan?”

“It couldn’t have gone better the moment we burst through the door Elise couldn’t say hi because she had her mouth full.”

I asked her how her Dad was taking it and she said he was heartbroken but that it was better than finding out after they were married.

Angela came back during the phone call and I rang off and asked how things were going. She said we simply had to go out to lunch as she needed to get away from the strain for a couple of hours. I agreed to go but I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for.

She decided that we would go to Chez Yvonne and I was happy about that – they have great food. Unfortunately, they also serve wine and Angela being stressed out drank far more than she should. She ordered a bottle of Saint-Emilion Grand Cru and didn’t touch much of her lunch she just kept on drinking and then ordered a second bottle.

“In spite of having this wonderful opportunity Konrad,” she blubbered, “I’m going to miss living in Strasbourg and I’m going to miss my friends. Do you know something,” she said pushing her face just inches away from mine,”I’ve not even got time to say goodbye to my family in Buende – in fact,” she took a deep breath, “They don’t even know I’m going. They don’t even know I’m fucking going – now isn’t that the shits.”

I told her she could phone them when we got back but she said she was afraid too.

“We’re a close-knit family,” she sniffled, “And I’m going to live thousands of miles away – I might be there for years.”

I tried to console her saying they would probably love to visit her in New York but I don’t think she wanted to be consoled – it was almost as if she wanted to be miserable – she wanted to suffer.

I had a job driving her back home because she kept leaning against me, then, of course, I had to help her up to the stairs to the apartment where she promptly threw up. As I’ve had some experience of her drinking too much before I went through the same procedure of putting her to bed and covering her up. I then went through the papers on the dressing table to find her air tickets and check on her schedule for Sunday. Her plane left at 4.05p.m. so I figured I had to get her there for 2 p.m. Providing she was in a fit condition to go.

She had been packing some boxes to be transferred into storage, and there was stuff all over the floor of the bedroom. I did my best to finish this work off for her, hoping that I was putting the right things in the right boxes. After I’d finished I stood by the door and gazed at Angela. Even though our relationship had been tumultuous at times I knew I was going to miss her.

I slept on the sofa and had a restless night because I kept worrying about finding alternative affordable accommodation. At around 3 a.m I got up again and made some coffee and listened to some of the weird street noises. After that, I slept more soundly.

I got up at 7.30, had a shower and then tried to wake up Angela. It took some time to get her out of bed and she looked like hell. I helped her into the shower and then went to prepare breakfast. We sat in silence until I managed to tell her how much I was going to miss her. I wished afterward that I had kept my mouth shut as she started to cry and ran back into the bedroom.

The whole morning was a shemozzle, a mixture of laughter, tears, and panic. At twelve we decided to leave so that we could have lunch on the way. Neither of us ate much and we actually got to the airport early and she suggested that I should leave right away as she didn’t like long goodbyes. We kissed, she started to sniffle again and then she pierced my heart like a dagger when she said, “It’s a good thing I’m going away Konrad – I was beginning to fall in love with you.”

I hugged her very tight and quickly left the departure area, wiping my eyes as I did so. In spite of my love for Gigi, I still feel a strong attachment to Angela but for some reason, I’d never thought of our relationship as being permanent. Our personalities were very different and her lifestyle was far too hectic.

The occasional tear trickled down my cheek as I drove back to the apartment but I pulled myself together and began to think about the problems that lay ahead for me. I didn’t have a mother hen to take care of me anymore – I was on my own.

I parked the car as it was due to be picked up by some government agency or other and I climbed the stairs to the apartment. When I opened the door I was not greeted by an agent dressed as a workman but by a middle-aged who was the spit and image of Judy Dench.

She informed me that she was taking over the apartment, not in a few days as Angela had suggested, but that very night. I was astounded as she pointed to my luggage, which I’d left packed and told me she needed it moving right away. Madame Bouchard, as she introduced herself, was not the kind of person you could argue with and so I scrambled to pick up a few bits and pieces I’d left scattered around and made my exit.

The only place I could think of where I might be able to stay for one night was at Gigi’s place. I thought she might let me sleep on the sofa again.

Climbing up the two flights of stairs I knocked loudly on the door but got no response. I eventually phoned but got a message service. In the end, I decided to just sit there and wait. Three hours later I heard someone coming up the stairs – I sighed with relief when I saw her and she looked shocked.

I told her the story of the Gestapo Kapitan that had taken over my apartment and I asked if I could just spend one night on her sofa and I would find somewhere to stay tomorrow. She looked at me a bit suspiciously and then said, “Do you promise to behave?”

I gave her the Scout’s Honor and was admitted. Leaving my luggage in the workroom I followed her up into the attic apartment and she suggested I sit down while she got some supper ready. Not wanting her to go to a lot of trouble I said I would like to take her out to a restaurant but she turned me down again.

The room was furnished with a sofa, a table, two dining chairs and a large wall cabinet that housed the TV. As I’ve said before it was cozy but quite cramped.

She switched on the TV for me and a few minutes later served me with a cup of coffee. In spite of her hospitality, I felt a little uneasy. I thought she might be thinking I was playing a trick on her.

We had a pleasant supper and then she came up with a surprising offer.

“You can stay here for a few days,” she said, “But you’ll have to sleep in the workroom, there is a two-piece bathroom and I’ll find a place to hang your clothes.”

“That would be great I,” said, “I can chip in some money for food and if you’ll allow me I can share the cooking.”

She smiled, “How about you wash the dishes?”

I told her that I could live with that and evening progressed very nicely with me showing her a lot of the photos of Canada I had loaded on my laptop and she pulling out her family album. We watched the news on TV and then she showed me my spot in the workroom and gave me a sleeping bag.

Before she left the room I took her hand and gently pulled her towards me and kissed her. She responded by putting her arms around my neck but that’s as far as she allowed it to go.

Gigi actually brought my breakfast down to the workroom and I got ready for work in the tiny bathroom. I took a cab to the office and as I walked down the hallway I passed Bob who looked pretty upset. Just behind him carrying a pile of boxes was Sasha, I was shocked to find him still working there.

Taylor came to see me later in the day and said that her Dad didn’t blame the boy, he felt that Elise, who was quite a bit older, had tempted him. I thought that was very generous of him. She then told me that she had a surprise for me and led me outside to the back of the building. There stood a late model blue Citroen C4.

“It’s you,” she said, handing me the keys.

“Mine?” I stammered, not able to believe my ears.

“You helped me more than you can imagine, ”she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I then felt obligated to tell her that although Angela had gone away there was someone that I was very fond of and who I was not prepared to cheat on.

“That’s no problem,” she said, “But I’d like to think about you occasionally when I masturbate,” she smiled, “Is that OK?”

“Taylor Woodrow, you’re incorrigible,” I laughed and gave a great big hug.

As we parted company in the corridor she added a little postscript.

“By the way – the camera in the storeroom didn’t malfunction – I just didn’t want you to get into trouble with my Dad.”

My face was very red when I returned to my desk where I was greeted by Paula who had some astounding news, “The wedding’s off,” she told me, “And Elise has been fired.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Paula,” I replied.

This evening I drove home in my car and had my first frustrating experience trying to find somewhere to park near Gigi’s place.

When I entered the workroom I told Gigi that I didn’t want any arguments I was taking her out because I had a car and I wanted to show off.

“We don’t have to go anywhere posh we can just go for a burger.”

“OK,” she replied, leaving her sewing,” Let’s go I’m starving.”

On the way, I explained how my ownership came about but I didn’t tell her about the storeroom camera. She told me that in spite of having a business she’d never bought a car because it’s so difficult to find a parking space. I couldn’t argue with her logic.

I drove her to Le Pied de Mammoth that Taylor had introduced me to. We had a fabulous time. In spite of my fondness for Angela I felt free and I was determined to develop a lasting relationship with Gigi even if I have to take it slowly.

Gigi has a driving license and asked me if she could drive home, gosh I felt so good that we were sharing things. When we got to the building, of course, she let me go and find a parking space while she put the coffee on.

As we sat there in the tiny living area we discussed our past private a lives a little and then somehow we found our way into each other’s arms and kissed.

“I’m really serious about you Gigi,” I whispered in her ear.

“I’ve heard that before,” she whispered back.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“You ditch your Canadian girlfriend to fly over to France with a woman you don’t love but enjoy having sex with; you get the gift of a car from your bosses nineteen-year-old daughter – do you blame me for having doubts.”

“No, I don’t,” I replied, “But I’m going to prove how much I love you.”

“Are you going to fight a dual for me?”

“If necessary I will,”

“Well they usually fight duels at dawn – so you’d better go downstairs and get some sleep. And don’t make too much noise I have tenants living below you.”

I managed to get one more kiss before I went down to my sleeping bag. Squeezing into the little bathroom I prepared myself for bed and the tried to find a comfortable spot on the hard floor. There weren’t any! Five minutes later I heard Gigi calling me from the attic stairs.

“I’m sorry to disturb you but could you come upstairs for a minute.”

It took me three seconds to squirm out of that sleeping bag and two more seconds to reach the attic.

Gigi stood in the narrow hallway of her apartment in a very flimsy nightdress.

“Could you sleep with me without wanting to be intimate?” she asked.

I was shocked by such a question but I had to answer honestly, “No I couldn’t.”

“That’s all that I wanted to know,” she said and she put her arms around my neck and gave me the most passionate kiss. She then took me by the hand and led me to her all-white bed before turning towards me and letting her nightdress slip to the floor.

I stood there frozen for a few moments. She looked so delicate, so beautiful I was half afraid to touch her. Gigi moved towards me and once again put her arms around my neck and when her soft precious lips met mine the feeling was indescribable, it was like I was floating on air.

Although I had only seen this done in the movies I picked up her trembling body and placed her on the bed. I then took off my clothes, trying not to make the process hurried and ruin the romance, I did it slowly looking down her slim exquisite form as I did so.

When I was completely naked and sporting the largest boner in my life I leaned over and kissed her gently before easing myself onto the bed and putting one knee either side of her. Leaning forward I began to lick her small erect nipples as she reached up with both hands and rubbed up and down my side with her warm sensuous hands.

I first moved my tongue around her nipples in small circles and then I sucked them, I sucked them hard. She began to murmur softly as I reached under her bum with one hand and inserted my finger into her tight little flower. She gasped and arched her back and as I continued this motion before running tongue down the center of her body and then sliding it gently into her pink moist folds.

Things began to get intense and she started to move her ass around as if she was desperate to cum. She was taking short sharp breaths and digging her nails into my shoulders as I stretched my arms upwards and held on to her small firm tits. She called Konrad, three times, as I continued to flick my tongue up and down her lips and then she went into orgasm, shaking violently and wrapping her legs around me, really tight.

Breaking loose I moved back and put my feet on the floor intending to pull her by the legs and bring her within reach of my boner but she quickly changed her position lying flat on the bed and took my throbbing cock into her mouth. She maneuvered her long fingers around my balls as she sucked, going deeper and deeper each time until my legs were shaking and turning to jelly.

When I could stand it no more I pulled away from her, leaped back onto the bed, turned her body over and penetrated her flower with one swift move. We both gasped and I held it there a few moments before moving slowly in and out. Gradually I increased the pace as she reached to the back of the bed with both her arms. Seeing her breasts swaying side by side with every stroke I began moved faster and faster. Her breasts continued their tantalizing motion while she whimpered softly urging me on until that final thrust when I could feel my balls tingle and the cum traveling upwards and flowing like hot lava into her warm receptive flower.

Before I withdrew I looked down at her beautiful face, she was smiling.

I said, “I love you Gigi,”

She didn’t respond in words but her hand reached for my arm and she gave it a little squeeze.

I was awakened this morning by a kiss on the cheek and a soft voice whispering, “Your breakfast is ready.”

Opening my eyes – there was Gigi with her head on one side waiting patiently for me to get out of bed. I noticed that she was wearing my shirt and nothing else; I tried to reach out to see what was under it but she moved away quickly.

“Your breakfast will be cold,” she scolded, “Hurry up,” and she left the room giggling to herself.

We sat at the table like a couple and it felt completely natural. There was no discussion about our relationship it just seemed that we were meant for each other and our fate was sealed.

I left for work with a kiss on my lips and the wonderful thought that I would be returning home that tonight to someone I truly I loved and cared for.


Copyright 2015 Cristiano Caffieri

You may not sell, license, sub-license, rent, transfer or distribute any part of my stories or images in any format, or claim ownership.

This material contains markers and is fully protected

The characters portrayed in my stories are, for all intents and purposes, fictional and any similarity with persons living or dead is purely a product of your imagination.

%d bloggers like this: