Summer Canyon
- 4 years ago
- 22
- 0
Monday 9.00am
She poured coffee and squeezed oranges and refilled the baskets of bread and pastries on the tables, concentrating hard on doing it right, the way she'd seen him do it. People nodded and smiled and thanked her, and she tried to smile back without showing the gaps in her teeth too much. At first she'd been nervous when they looked at her, but no-one had said anything and she'd been able to concentrate again. When the cleaner came she wanted everything to be perfect, and even more when he arrived. She wondered if he was worrying and hugged the feeling of being cared for close. It had been such a long time since anyone had looked after her. If she did well he'd be pleased, and he'd give her more things to do, and if she did those things well he'd begin to trust her more and more. He was kind to everyone, even the cleaner, but she thought he was especially kind to her. She'd seen him looking at the Spanish girl in an annoyed way sometimes, and she felt pleased about that. Even when he was stern with her she loved him
Not getting up till I woke up was such a treat that I tried to go back to sleep. I lay quietly, listening to Pilar sloshing in the shower. In a little while she came out, morning light shining on her damp skin and slithering over the curves.
'If you want breakfast in bed you'd better get clean and smooth.' I got up and made a grab for her but she dived under the sheet and wrapped it round her. 'Ten minutes, or I yell for a substitute.' I headed for the bathroom.
Forty minutes later, sipping coffee and feeling like a king, I asked her where demure Pilar had gone. To my surprise she took the question seriously.
'I've been wondering about that. I am being a bit blatant, aren't I? I definitely didn't behave like this with Jorge. Do you mind?' Jorge never risked your ass. I didn't mind, and told her so.
'What's happening today?' she asked. 'I ought to go and see Mum. She's in a terrible state and I really do feel guilty about being so excited about you and everything, and not paying her enough attention.'
'You'd better do that then.' God bless Spanish families. 'I'll check on Elena and then I think I'll go and look at the hotel again. Where's Federico? Would he mind if you borrowed those binoculars again?'
'He's birdwatching in Doñana, ' she said, 'and the cats are in kennels because I said I wouldn't clean out their poo for a whole month. The binoculars are still here, I think.' She went and looked and came back with them. 'They're only his second-best pair.'
'As long as they work. I'll buy him some catlit when he gets back.'
'Whatever you're really going to do, be careful, and either tell me or nobody, ' she said, 'I don't want Anita to have to keep more stuff from me. It bothers her.' She was quiet as we dressed and I let her think. No point in pushing. As we came out of the building I looked up and down the street automatically, then decided that I could trust Agustín on this, at least.
'I'll take a bus to Mum's and call you later.' She kissed me trustingly and I headed for the Metro feeling guilty.
In the hostal Elena was washing dishes. There were four e-mails waiting
'Elena, there's work for you.' She came out of the dining-room drying her hands and gazing expectantly at me. I wished she didn't look so damned eager.
'I'll finish the dishes. Take a look at these and reply to them. OK?'
'But what are they about?' she asked. I shrugged.
'Read them and see. I've got washing-up to do.'
When I'd finished I risked a look round the door. She was typing slowly and consulting a piece of paper and I went to track down Anita. She was staring into a toilet-bowl and shaking her head.
'Thank God for plastic gloves, ' she said disgustedly. 'I'd be ashamed to leave a bathroom looking like this.' I took her point, but didn't really share her indignation.
'Was everything OK this morning?
'You are something else, ' she said. 'I bet if I started crying now you'd start cleaning the toilet for me. She's watched you for three days and serving breakfast isn't exactly rocket-science. You need to stop being such a control-freak. You're caring and everything, but when you want your own way you're a bit ... Is Pilar alright?'
'She's alright and I'm alright and she's visiting her mum today so that's alright too. Um, Anita... , ' I hesitated, and she snorted.
'No, Alex, no-one's talking about Vallecas or anything like that. In fact no-one's talking about anything. Everyone's waiting for something though. Did Agustín really call you back?' I nodded and she sighed. 'He wouldn't have done that unless Martínez had told him to. You must have pressed that old lizard's buttons somehow. He's famous for having no feelings at all.' I left her to the toilet-bowl. In reception Elena had finished. I read the e-mails and then flicked through the data-base.
'Send them, ' I said, 'and check the inbox again this afternoon.'
'Is that all?' she said.
'You enjoy this sort of work, don't you?'
'Yes, ' she said instantly, 'and it is different from anything I have ever done, and you are so kind to let me do it.' The twinge of alarm prodded me again. 'People are really pleased when you help them.' She stopped suddenly, as if enthusiasm was forbidden. 'What are you doing today?' Have you forgotten what this is all about?
'Looking for your sister of course. Pilar's with her mum, so keep your phone on. Help Anita. Go out and walk around. In between chores learn some more Spanish. You need to be fluent.' I left her looking earnest and went to find the car.
There still didn't seem to be any unobtrusive access to the hotel so I went two hundred metres along the lane I'd parked in before and tucked the car behind a derelict agricultural hovel. My daypack held water and apples and I set off into the scrub feeling like a real explorer.
Forty minutes later I'd decided that real explorers are raving mad. I'd been forced to struggle back along the thorny ridge before reaching my vantage-point above the hotel, and was hot, bitten, scratched, and completely pissed-off. The view was worth it though.
The van was standing in the yard, with the BMW next to it. Next to it again was a Lexus, with Alberto washing it. A red-haired woman came out of the back-door and gave him a can of something. The two of them talked briefly before she went back in, the set of her shoulders hinting at dissatisfaction. Olga. Alberto threw the can across the yard and lit a cigarette.
Half an hour later the door opened again and four men stepped into the yard. I recognised the brothers and Niku, but the fourth was an unknown. He was coasting down the far side of middle-age, and was dressed in a grey suit and a crimson open- necked shirt. Looking at him through the lenses I realised that he was an older version of the brothers. A relative certainly, and an alpha male to boot. His body language was insistent and the others listened and didn't interrupt. After a final bout of authoritative arm waving he got into the Lexus and drove off. The other three stood in the yard and began to argue.
Two hours later I was slowly grilling. Alberto had loaded a dozen women into the van and left, and I was wondering whether to maintain my vigil or give up when the door opened again and the brothers emerged. A girl came out with them, and stood by the BMW. She was small and slender, dressed in the tartan skirt and white blouse and socks of a Spanish schoolgirl; she even had her hair held back in an Alice band. She raised her face to the sun and I grabbed the binoculars. I couldn't decide if there was a genuine resemblance or not until one of the brothers spoke to her and she opened the back-door of the BMW and stooped to get in. Pure Elena: the posture, the profile, the awkward grace, the whole essence. No doubts. One of the men slammed the door shut and they started arguing again.
I wriggled backwards and legged it to the car, trying to ignore the stitch that developed almost immediately. If they hadn't left, coming out onto the main road behind them would be a little obvious. If they had, then they had either gone north or south. Probably south, unless they had a pressing reason to head into the boonies. Go with the odds. I hit the ignition and headed towards Madrid.
Twelve dangerous kilometres later I hadn't seen the Beamer. I swung across all three lanes, just making the exit-ramp of the next junction without killing anybody. At the top of the slip-road I pulled onto the hard shoulder and ran across the road to look back. The traffic seemed to have recovered from my passage and I leaned on the crash-barrier watching the chain of cars swing hypnotically past. I still had the binoculars round my neck and I focused them on a bend half a kilometre up the road.
Within minutes my eyes were stinging with sweat and I was about to give up and go back to the hotel when a steel-grey BMW came round the bend. I didn't stop to see if it was the right one and sprinted for the Xsara.
As I came back down onto the motorway it was ahead of me. The plates were right. Bingo. I was hot and sweaty, my neck was burning, I was nearly incontinent, and I had no idea where we were going. I felt wonderful.
Half an hour later we were shuffling through traffic on the M30 and wonderful was just a memory. Too close and I'd be noticed; too far and I'd miss him if he turned. A hundred metres ahead of me he slid into the right-hand lane without signalling, and took the Avenida de Burgos exit. I hit the emergency flashers and forced myself after him. At the top of the ramp I was only six cars behind.
It didn't get any easier. Madrid is traffic-lights all the way, and keeping him in sight was harder than I'd imagined. Opposite the Pio XII shopping-centre he turned right, and I slowed before following him. This was a residential area and traffic would be sparse. I drove slowly up the tree-lined road checking cross streets. At the third I saw the BMW sitting at the kerb, and turned and drove past without slowing. It was outside a large, white-painted, detached house that sat back from the street, insulated from the world by a high wall and wrought-iron gates. I swung round the next corner and parked. The first thing I did was to lower the tone of the neighbourhood, then I zipped myself up and thought about what came next.
The answer was nothing. The Beamer sat, and I sat watching it. I wondered if I was as conspicuous as Alberto and Niku had been and if the house was full of Albanians laughing at me. After half an hour I lost my nerve and went back to the Citroën. I parked again a hundred metres away and came back by a different route. The BMW was still there and I scrambled over the garden wall of the house on the corner. The property was screened by laurels and had an unkempt look. I couldn't think what else to do. If there were dogs, there were dogs; if the police came, then they came. I'd tell them that I was looking for a lost ball.
Nothing went on happening except that I ate three apples, drank all my water, and wished I had a cigarette. No wonder 007 was such a chimney if he did this sort of thing for a living. I'd moved along the wall as far as possible and was only about twenty metres from the BMW.
By four o'clock I was nearly asleep, but the screech of a complaining hinge brought me to full awareness. Niku was coming out of the gate, pulling Monica by the arm. She was pale and seemed to have bitten her lip. He looked impatient, like a coach-driver running behind schedule. Monica stumbled as they approached the car. Her legs weren't doing a great job and he had to support her while he opened the door. As he bundled her into the car I saw that the back of her blouse was daubed with crimson stains and there was blood on her thighs. The BMW's engine caught, and it drifted round the corner, then the gate closed and the street was quiet. My vision blurred and my chest felt tight and I heard a voice swearing in English: I realised it was mine.
Twenty minutes later the gates opened again and a Toyota Landcruiser rolled out. As it disappeared I climbed back over the wall and strolled up the street. The mailbox matched the gate, and had a cute little wrought-iron thatched roof to stop the letters getting wet. On a plate at the bottom, where normal people stick a piece of paper with their name on, was a small brass plaque. 'Don Álvaro Ceacero de la Mata.' I walked slowly back to the car.
Later, showered, changed, and with After-Sun on my neck and arms, I sat and sipped brandy. Beer didn't seem to be enough. I wasn't sure what I'd seen, but it had turned my stomach. I felt angry and impotent and I wanted to kill somebody, so I rang Pilar.
'Hola, cariño, I was just about to call, ' she said. 'Where are you?'
'At my flat. Are you still at your mum's?' My voice gave me away.
'I'm at home, ' she said. 'What's happened? No, don't say anything, I'll get a cab.' She arrived ten minutes later; when I opened the door I felt stupid for having called her so I turned and went back down, leaving her to follow.
'Alex, what's wrong?'
'I've found Monica, ' I said, and felt tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.
She held me in her arms and in a little while I went and rinsed my face and dried it. She was sitting quietly and had fetched herself a glass of juice. I looked out of the window, then at her.
'I didn't know those were there. Thank you.' She took the brandy away and brought me a beer.
'Have a cigarette, cariño, if you want, and tell me about it.' I began to speak, haltingly, about what I'd seen. She didn't interrupt, but her expression hardened.
'You feel terrible because now you've actually seen her and you can't do anything about it yet. One of the things about you is that you hate feeling helpless and you hate seeing other people who are helpless. So what you'd better do is think it through. Apart from the awfulness you've found out quite a lot, haven't you?'
I surprised myself by talking for half an hour, stopping and correcting myself, thinking out loud, trying to tease out connections. When I began to repeat myself she stopped me.
'Your face looks better now. What about behind it?'
'OK, I guess, but I don't suppose I'll be a bundle of laughs, and I don't want to lose sight of you.'
'No chance, ' she said. 'What are we going to tell Elena?' I closed my eyes.
'I don't think I want anybody except you to know the details, but I don't trust my instincts any more. Tell me what you think.'
'Do you mind if I just organise you this evening, and we'll see how things look in the morning? You've done an awful lot today, and most of what you found out is because you trusted your instincts. You could think about that, maybe.' I thought about being looked after until the morning.
'Tell me what you're going to organise, boss.' A memory forced its way into my brain. 'But I've got to buy flowers: it's Dolores's birthday and I'll get gold stars for remembering.' She grimaced.
'Do we have to?'
'Elena's going to need a job while she organises herself and she hasn't even got a passport, and I bet Monica won't have one either. I need to keep Miguel sweet, and that means Dolores. If I can't persuade them to employ her I don't know what to do.' I looked at her in a melting manner.
'There's no need to make faces. You are so one-track, trying to stay three moves ahead all the time. Let's go and do it now.' She reached for my hand and heaved. 'Time you started functioning again, Mr Instincts.'
Thunder was rumbling as we left and the air was hotter than ever. I wondered, not for the first time, how people managed to live here before air-conditioning. The market yielded a bouquet and we walked slowly up to Miguel's. The blinds were down but there was light spilling onto the street and noise from inside. I thumped on the door and Miguel opened it. When he saw Pilar he stepped smartly forward. Introductions and ceremonial kisses accomplished, he gestured us to enter. Curiosity brought Dolores bounding to her feet and the round of greeting and kissing repeated itself, then again with the rest of the family. Three tables had been pushed together, and Miguel had reached the stage where he was urging his brother-in-law to compare wines. Home-baked empanadas and other unidentifiables waited to be attacked. We had arrived at the right time: it's better to be born lucky than rich if the cook is Dolores. Space was made for us although we weren't family. That's rare in Spain, and I sensed Pilar taking the fact on board.
She was stupendous, playing Dolores like a violin. Blushing shyly, she confessed our relationship; she emphasised that I'd insisted on putting back our plans for the evening in order to congratulate her on her birthday; she had no idea that such good food still existed. As she was eating pigs' ear, which is in fact pork-flavoured chewing-gum, I marvelled at her ability to lie convincingly. It's a gender thing I thought, as I reached for the empanadas
Apparently all the family were going to the ancestral village on Wednesday and would be away for a week. Miguel didn't look overjoyed but Dolores contented herself with reminding him that the village wine would be as good as ever; he pretended to be mollified and pulled himself together. I huddled with them in the kitchen and talked business, promising to bring all the cash up tomorrow and to collect paying-in slips for Friday and Tuesday banking. Keep them purring.
With impeccable timing Pilar gathered me up and explained that I had to go to the hostal. More kisses followed and we escaped. I looked at her.
'You are so good. And you ate ear and tripe without flinching. I'm impressed. Now what?'
'I like tripe, thank you, and actually we did ought to go the hostal. You do exaggerate though. You said Dolores was a dragon but she's really nice, and Miguel too, and they really like you so I don't want to be a liar to them, and anyway, Elena needs to give you her report. Can you bear to do that?' She was right, I thought: the whole visit had been surprisingly pleasant, and I wondered if I'd been missing something. Still, if she was with me I was up for anything, and I told her so. I felt calm and focused: the emotions of the day had boiled down into a glowing nugget of anger that I planned to nurture. You know how to do that.
As we entered the hostal Elena jumped up and ran to the reception desk, looking at me expectantly. Anita seemed irritated and somehow glum, and Pilar went to talk to her, giving me a smile as she disappeared into the dining-room. I let Elena tell me all, part of me wondering why Anita had left without saying goodbye.
Every 'i' was dotted and every 't' was crossed. Three loads of washing arrived while I was looking at her notes and she hopped up and dealt with them as if she'd been doing the job all her life. I told her how good she was and informed her that as a reward Pilar and I were going to go and leave her to it.
'One thing, Elena.'
'What did I forget?'
'Nothing. So forget the notes.' I blew her a kiss and we left. In the lift, Pilar rubbed the back of my head and looked at me quizzically.
'I know she's got a crush on you, but you don't really like her, so why are you giving her your job?' I wasn't sure how to explain and I didn't want to say that the kitty was unexpectedly fat, so I just shrugged.
'My life seems to be changing. I can do a few more private classes, and it'll be nice not to have to do all the chores. Dammit, I can't just throw her away. I'll talk to Miguel and Dolores and if that doesn't work you can persuade them. Miguel would roll over and beg if you asked him to, and Dolores could be persuaded if she thinks it'll save money.' I was suddenly tired. 'Can we go home now, please?'
We showered together and I made an omelette while she fixed salad. I had a glass of wine and surprised myself by not wanting a second. The hard kernel of anger was still smouldering, and I tested it gently. Hot enough. Pilar threw her napkin at me.
'Calling planet Alex. How are you now, cariño?'
'Infinitely better. Astonished at your skills. Totally enchanted by you. But I saw her blood and someone's going to pay hard for that.'
'Come to bed, ' she said. 'You can think about demanding payment tomorrow.' Summer lightning flickered as she stripped off her tee-shirt and I felt enormously lucky.
She held me till I slept, and when I woke from the dreams she was still holding me. She said nothing, but began to shift her body round mine. I tried to say it didn't matter, you don't have to, but she stopped me with a gentle hand over my mouth. I could hear rain tapping softly on the window.
'Stay still, ' she said, 'This is from me to you, because you've been hurt, and because I love you.' Oh shit.
On Tuesday morning we sat at one of the dining-room tables and drank coffee. I had woken early and thought, and I very nearly had a plan. At ten o'clock Anita arrived and inspected me. She still looked unhappy.
'You look a bit stressed, Alex. What's happened?' There's good news and there's scary news.
'Full briefing as soon as Elena sits down. I'm just going to sit here and have some more coffee. Pilar, you've heard this already, so could you deal with anyone who appears, please?' Curiously, it was only a matter of moments before they were sitting at the table.
I told the story as it had happened, omitting the details of Monica's exit from Don Álvaro's, saying only that she had looked thin and frightened. I'd decided that for the moment sins of omission could be excused on compassionate grounds. If Elena asked questions, we would see. I was unwilling to lie to her directly, but she only asked if I was sure.
'Not at first, ' I said, 'and her face is sometimes like yours and then not, but when she turned to get into the car I was sure. It could have been you.' She began to cry quietly and Pilar reached out to her. I got up and went into reception. I called up Google and gave it Don Álvaro's name. Hit after hit after hit.
A very high ranking civil-servant in the Community of Madrid. 'Abogado del Estado, ' which is as high as you can get on that ladder. A golden career boy from a wealthy family, currently chairing committees for land-zoning and control, reporting directly to the regional ministers. Most of the information was from government and community websites, but his old university also trumpeted his general perfection, adding that he was a devout believer and conspicuous for his donations to religious charities. There was no entry saying that in his spare time he enjoyed raping and torturing young girls dressed in school uniform. I felt the anger stir again and sat quietly, welcoming it. The dining-room door opened and Pilar emerged. She looked at me but I shook my head. I wasn't going to share this yet.
'I'm going to have those bastards out of our lives and the lives of everyone that any of us care about, and I'm going to hurt them on the way. Will you be able to hold me when I need it, even if I'm holding stuff back?' She didn't need to think.
'As long as you remember that I'm scared too. Fifty-fifty?' I reached up and twisted a tendril of her hair in my fingers, but she put a hand over my mouth. 'When you're ready. There isn't a required response.' Bloody woman's altogether too perceptive. She hadn't finished.
'I was going to go to my place and tidy things up a bit, but now I think I'm going to stay here and help, and then maybe take Elena for an outing somewhere. I think there's some guilt somewhere, and she's altogether a bit too stuck on you. I'm not jealous, but it needs taking out and looking at, and I need to talk to Anita too.' I turned the computer off and picked up the envelopes of money to give to Dolores.
'You are something else and I'm lucky to have met you. I'm going to go and watch some places and some people, so kiss me and make me luckier.' When I left I'd collected enough luck to win the lottery.
I walked up Calle Atocha and wondered how to begin. A brain-cell stirred and I snapped at the thought: when in doubt try City Hall. First things first, though; I carried on up to Miguel's.
Business dealt with, and a happy break wished to one and all, I went back to my flat and the cashpoint behind the oven. It was going to be a taxi day, I thought, bearing in mind that civil-service smurfs finish work at three sharp and need careful handling for an hour before that. I stuffed money into my pocket and prepared for hand to hand combat with Spanish bureaucracy.
Getting information from state employees is like pulling teeth, but I can be persistent when I have to. Data began to dribble my way, and I joined up more dots. When three o'clock passed and the government shut up shop for the day I telephoned the private sector.
Simon Lennox is a former colleague who moved from teaching to journalism, and now edits Madrid's only English language weekly. He knows everything that happens in the city and has access to Spanish journalists who scratch his back if he asks nicely. He was still at lunch, and I told him not to move. When I walked in he was sitting flicking through papers, a brandy in his hand.
'Alex, you're just in time for a beer. What do you need?' He waved at the waiter and called for more refreshments. His Spanish is fast and slangy, he affects a pressman's cynicism, and he wants to be Lou Grant, but he keeps his word when he gives it, and that's rare nowadays.
'Personal business, Si, plus a beautiful sex and corruption story that'll be all yours for twenty-four hours. Whoever you pass it on to will owe you a great big one.'
'Tell me.' I told him as little as possible and he looked at me cynically.
'Alex, don't bullshit. You're the closest-mouthed guy I've ever met. For Christ's sake, I don't even know where you live. There's lots more, so why are you flashing me?'
'Purely personal, Si, and I'll take you out one evening and tell you why, but for the moment it's mine. Are you going to help me or do I need to say please?' The anger must have showed, because he put his glass down and signalled to the waiter.
'Never seen you so worked up. Let's do it.' We headed for his office.
Two phone calls and twenty minutes later an e-mail arrived in his inbox. The attachment showed a head and shoulders shot of one of the masters of the Spanish universe. Noble head, piercing eyes, look of sleek satisfaction, one of the chosen. Simon printed the photo and handed it to me. He looked at the e-mail again.
'Ceremony of Inauguration, Don Álvaro Ceacero de la Mata attending the opening of a new development, blah blah. Who is he, Alex? I'm going to owe Jose Pedro for this.'
'He's dog-food, and Jose Pedro will beg you to be his friend, ' I said. 'Thanks, Si. I owe you.' He waved a hand in dismissal and I left.
Don Álvaro's office was in a grim, glass-fronted building in Moncloa, the Whitehall of Madrid. Across the street was a bar, and a fellow who sat in its front-window could see the facade of the building and the entrance to the carpark surprisingly well. I ordered a ración of mussels with the second beer and they bought another tapa as well. You know when you're at the posh end of town. I didn't know if Don Álvaro knocked off at three, or whether he stayed. Senior civil-servants put in heavy hours when they have to, and he hadn't risen to his present level without being good. Family connections can't get you appointed Abogado del Estado any more: you have to pass some very tough public exams for that. I leafed through my paper and kept an eye out.
Patience is rarely its own reward, but I hung on, and at ten past six the Toyota glided out of the carpark. I folded the paper and left it with a largeish note on the bar. I'd be back here tomorrow and it would be nice if they remembered me fondly. Outside, I flagged a taxi and told the driver that I was in a hurry to get to Pio XII.
Taxis move faster than Salamanca tractors, and they're allowed to use bus-lanes. I'd been standing behind my favourite garden wall for ten minutes when the Toyota rolled round the corner. The gates opened and the car went in.
When I got back to the centre I headed for Calle Hortaleza, and went into the ironmongers' on the corner. I browsed and pondered, and then, with my purchases neatly wrapped, ambled up the road to my flat.
When I let myself in the boiler was growling. To my delight, there was a pile of clothes on the bed, and splashing sounds coming from the bathroom. I made haste to join the fun.
After the fun we lay on the bed and waited for our pulse rates to settle. Pilar turned to me and hit me quite hard on the shoulder.
'Don't ever creep up on me like that again. I could have died, and it would have been your fault entirely and no-one would ever have forgiven you.' I thought it had been a splendid joke.
'Next time I'll warn you. What are we going to do now?' She sat up and pushed my hands away.
'Not that again. I thought the English were supposed to be inhibited and distant. I'm going to tell you about Elena, and then you tell me what you've been doing all day, or vice-versa, and then we'll see.'
We woke up mid morning the next day. I rang down to the servants house and asked that breakfast be served in about an hour. I hustled Candace into the shower, telling Candy that we couldn't play; I had a big day planned for us. And that of course set off a round of what? and why won't you tell me, and I don't care if it's a surprise, which finally ended with several swats to the ass cheeks and a gesture towards the shower. Point made, game, set, match; for now anyway. I went through...
When we returned home I took Candace to my bedroom, laid her on her back on my bed, and tied her hands and ankles to the head and foot boards of the bed. I kissed her lightly on her lips, then began to kiss and nibble on her cheeks, eyelids, forehead, around to her ears and her neck. Her body was stock still but her breathing was quick and shallow. When I got to the front of her neck I began to work my way down the front of her body. I grabbed the scissors I left on the bed table and cut her...
Cu ceva timp in urma, un prieten de familie mi-a povestit o intamplare pe care a trait-o vara trecuta in concediu, impreuna cu sotia lui. Pentru ca a citit si i-au placut fanteziile erotice publicate de mine pe site-ul asta, m-a rugat sa scriu eu povestea lui si s-o postez aici. Am acceptat pentru ca mi s-a parut foarte interesanta experienta traita de el, cu atat mai mult cu cat atinge o latura destul de sensibila si de controversata a sexualitatii. Marturisesc ca nu mi-a fost deloc usor,...
Cu ceva timp in urma, un prieten de familie mi-a povestit o intamplare pe care a trait-o vara trecuta in concediu, impreuna cu sotia lui. Pentru ca a citit si i-au placut fanteziile erotice publicate de mine pe site-ul asta, m-a rugat sa scriu eu povestea lui si s-o postez aici. Am acceptat pentru ca mi s-a parut foarte interesanta experienta traita de el, cu atat mai mult cu cat atinge o latura destul de sensibila si de controversata a sexualitatii. Marturisesc ca nu mi-a fost deloc usor,...
The more she talked the harder my cock got. She told me that starting at the age of 8 when I tied her up, she would go to her room afterwards and play with her slit. When she was 9 her clit made its' first appearance and she began getting mini orgasms. By the time we quit when she was 10 she was having orgasms while I was tying her. That was one of the reasons she quit, she was getting embarrassed about it and didn't want me to see. She continued to play with herself, but to make up for not...
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OROTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS. Ms Americana/Brenda Wade andLydia Wills/Flag Girl are the creations of Mr. X. I came up with the othervillains. Please direct all comments andfeedback to [email protected]. Put Ms Americana or Story feedback insubject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete. MS AMERICANA: THE PALACE By Thom Gall Sugar...
Hi guys, first I have to say the main character is not anyway related to a certain hotel heiress that is sitting in a cell rat Hi guys, first I have to say the main character is not anyway related to a certain hotel heiress that is sitting in a cell rather than by pool. That would be wrong?Daris is a creation of my own. Ms Americana belongs to Mr. X. I hope you like this ENTIRELY FICTIONAL STORY. [email protected] If you are a minor, you shouldn?t be reading this story since...
Introduction: Frigid MILF turned by one of her husbands young employees. Mistletoe, Candy Canes & a Lesbian Summary: Frigid MILF turned by one of her husbands young employees. Note 1: This story is dedicated to DAVE who requested it for his wife. Note 2: Thanks to MAB7991, goamz86 and LeAnn for editing this story. Mistletoe, Candy Canes & a Lesbian You havent had sex in over a year! I asked my colleague Dave, stunned by his admission a moment ago. He shook his head as he took another...
Ms. Americana story this time. I?m still experimenting with different form of stories, plots etc, searching for the formula that fits me the most. If you have any thoughts, don?t be afraid to write at: [email protected]. Americana belongs to Mr. X Ms. Americana: A slut is born Ms. Americana almost finished her usual night patrol through the Delta City. She kicked some pimps and criminals, saved two innocent girls from rape and found a hideout of the famous bank robbers. It was fruitful...
The next day at school Candy and I were met in the parking lot by Amanda Gigot. She was dressed much like Candy, short mini skirt, dark hose and a tight top showing she wasn't wearing a bra. Remember Amanda is almost 6 feet tall, she is all legs; her skirt just barely touched the top band of her stockings and whenever she moved her garter straps showed. "I talked to my parents last night and they told me how you all met. I got so horny I played with myself in front of them and then my...
Hi there! Name's Gym Bunny Candie. Of course, you can just call me Candie, but that's up to you. I'm quite the enthusiast when it comes to fitness (the name sort of gives it away:)). Most any day you can find me in the gym, working out, stretching, training clients, teaching classes, or just hanging out. I love most things "fitness" (you should check out my new tumblr page. It's kind of like me--a sassy work in progress). I just adore waking up in the morning, sliding into a sports...
Jim Jones is an 18 year old senior in high school. His step-sister Candace, is a 14 year old freshman. Their parents are very wealthy and also very rarely at home. To compensate for their long distance love the parents have given their children unlimited credit cards and run of the house. Jim and Candace have shouldered the responsibility and have never betrayed their parents trust. The two siblings are not blood related; Jims' mother did not give birth to Candace. His father died when he...
She was thinking about Max and the crazy sex they had last week nonstop since it had happened. Her pussy or "Cunt" as she was now calling it because Max had called it that and it now pleased her to call her betraying vagina a cunt. Her cunt was back to normal. For a few days after 'having coffee' with Max it was sore and stretched. Very tender and leaking his cum. She smelled and tasted it for days. On the third day she could still get small traces but she really had to force her fingers...
Candy and I arrived at the Gigots' for dinner at 7. We were met by Helen and ushered in to their home. She told us the servants had been given the night off so she and Mandy would be serving dinner. That was why she greeted us in a French maid outfit. It was black, with a bustier top that held her tits up but did not cover them. Her nipples had been rouged and their redness drew my eyes to them. When Helen saw where I was looking her nipples immediately got harder and I could see them expand...
College life was pretty crazy. Between classes, basketball (I was on a basketball scholarship) and chicks I was swamped. The hardest part was balancing the three. Because I an academically strong, I took a heavy class load (I was not on the road to the NBA...I was just using basketball to get my education for free), I was starting on the basketball team as a freshman (a rarity) and I had a few co-ed's who were usually more than eager to suck or fuck me.I am not being arrogant, but I am decent...
Man, sometimes I wonder what the deal is with them Black women in the Confederation of Canada. As a Black man, they mystify me. The name is Stanley Mondesir. A big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the city of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I’m originally from the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I moved to boring little Ottawa because my parents had no money for my schooling. My father, Etienne Mondesir is a police officer in Boston and my mother Astrid Xavier Mondesir is a...
From the curved seat at the fantail of the private, two-masted schooner, “Nevis”, I watched the fourteen-year-old French Jewish boy, Emile, moving about in the rigging overhead like a nimble monkey. He was all deeply tanned arms and legs, moving deftly like a circus acrobat, changing the sheeting to match the change in the wind as the schooner raced down the French coast toward Casablanca, our goal of refuge for Reggie’s exile--or escape, depending on who you talked to. I was along because I’d...
Zane took two steps at a time as he exited the underground station. Not that he was in a hurry. Today, he just had a spring in his step. Maybe it was his whistling that led to two police patrols stopping him and checking his credentials. Not that Zane minded. Nothing could ruin his good mood. The Bexter Commercial Tower was only four blocks away and Zane made it in record time. Slipping into the service entrance, Zane went straight to the service elevators. Today, he was lucky. It...
It had been two weeks since I had transformed Jake to be my sissy slut Candi and today was the first day of the academic year. It was a Friday and it was the first lecture to get us introduced to the class and lecturer before enjoying a weekend break clubbing with our new classmates. Over the last two weeks Emma and I had continued training Candi to get her used to her new life. I was still giving her the muscle relaxant drugs each day and she seemed to have resigned to the fact...
Shirley is a woman of 45 years and living in Amsterdam. She is 20 years happily married to Jermaine. Jermaine has been working at the tax office while Shirley works at an accounting firm. They have two c***dren, a daughter aged 17 and a son of 15. Shirley is a woman who loves sex and is similar to that area insatiable. Jermaine can not keep her often and is happy if the sex is over quickly. Shirley for her age a good figure. She is chubby but everything is still tight. She has big boobs, double...
Becoming Candi Rachel The alarm on my phone shocked me from my sleep and I thumbed with the touch screen in an attempt to turn it off. The phone was new and it was the first time I had heard the alarm tone, which was less like a wake up alarm and more like an emergency siren. ?Rach, will you get that?? I heard my Mother yell from downstairs. With a tremendous amount of effort I managed to lift myself off my pillows and sit up. Today was the first day of university for me and my...
Becoming Candi Rachel The alarm on my phone shocked me from my sleep and I thumbed with the touch screen in an attempt to turn it off. The phone was new and it was the first time I had heard the alarm tone, which was less like a wake up alarm and more like an emergency siren. "Rach, will you get that?" I heard my Mother yell from downstairs. With a tremendous amount of effort I managed to lift myself off my pillows and sit up. Today was the first day of university for me and my...
Santa spanks Taylor & Hangs a Candy Cane In Her Bottom.Taylor was home for Christmas from college and she was in their bedroom for a long winter’s night. Not a creature was stirring her family away but pretty coed had decided to stay.As Taylor had made merry and cheer. Little did Taylor know it was the condition of her cute rear she should fear?Her pretty long brown shimmery hair swished and swayed from side to side displaying her round shapely bottom packed tight into her blue jeans and bust...
Trying a Moroccan dickIt had been a busy day at the office.Helena was absent, because she had had to take care of her mother, who was staying at the hospital for a few days…However, my slutty friend called me in the afternoon, when I was driving home and asked me if I was in the mood to go out with her that night. Of course I was…It was Friday and Victor was at home, but I knew he wanted to stay there and it would be nice for him to be alone for a while. I called him to tell my plan and he...
I was getting anxious as the minutes seemed to drag by, but finally my sister appeared in my doorway dressed as I desired. My note to her told her to shower after she woke up, to put on the camisole and panties I left on her bed and come to my bedroom I wanted to talk to her. She did as she was instructed, it was a good start. The camisole was pink and very sheer, her small tits were visible through it, and I saw how large her nipples were for the first time. Her breasts were the size and...
Candi's story If you don't think this is a work of fiction you are crazy. "Thank you dear that was delightful." I smiled on a post orgasmic haze. Being married for 4 years out sex had become so routine. Its not that we didn't have sex often enough or that I no longer found my wife attractive. Its just the same positions always ending up in missionary position till we both came. "Yes I enjoyed it too." At breakfast the next day I struggled to formulate my wanting to...
Notes: { This is a fantasy! Women are lovable persons and I would do anything to make them happy. I am a vegetarian myself. }Cannibal Cruise. Chapter 1.Year 2095 C.E. Cannibalism is now practised, to some degree, in nearly every country. The 2005 aviary influenza epidemic brought a dramatic change to the world's female population. Somehow the virus fired some, hitherto repressed genes in women and female animals bringing a sudden change in their behaviour. Mankind first noticed changes in...
Brandi saw her aunt on the street, ran past with a breathless “Hi,” ran up the walk to her cousin’s house, and entered without a knock. She took the stairs quickly, burst into her cousin’s room, and found Candi lying on her back, in bed, her face flushed, her dress pulled up her legs, and her nipples impudently poking peaks in the soft cloth of her top.“What are you doing?” Brandi asked, knowing full well what Candi had been doing.“Nothing,” Candi gasped, having difficulty coming back from the...
IncestGianni, mi andresti a prendere la sega che ho dimenticato giù in cantina?... Attento, non è quella poggiata sulla vecchia credenza, è quella che ho lasciato sul mobiletto accanto, quello dove tengo i giornali vecchi» mi chiese mio padre intento a fare dei lavori in casa con me che ero lì ad osservarlo.Avevo visto spesso mio padre utilizzare vecchi quotidiani quando verniciava o quando utilizzava olio o lubrificanti ma non avevo mai visto da dove li avesse tirati fuori; però senza fare domande...
Life is funny, folks. Case in point? Me. Steve Acier. Mr. Big and tall Black man of Haitian descent living in Nepean, a suburb of the capital city of Ottawa in the Province of Ontario. I moved there from my hometown of Boston, Massachusetts, at the end of 2009. Since then I enrolled at Carleton University and I also work part-time as a security guard at the local art gallery. Since I moved to Ottawa, I experienced a lot of culture shock. Ottawa is a city with a growing population of...
My name is Enrique and I am from Chihuahua Mexico. Since a c***d I never really liked girls, but I didn’t seem to like boys either. That was true until I first went to visit the USA. I fell in love when I met a white American boy. His beautiful blue eyes, his pretty smile, his perfect body, and his tall frame attracted me to him. I never met a man like that in my life. I was 18 and he was about 23 years old. I didn’t know much English so it was hard to talk to him. But he knew I wanted him. He...
Without a doubt, Candi has the biggest tits in the neighborhood. Even before she turned eighteen, everyone noticed her huge E cups. It would be a gross underestimation to say her huge tits are her best feature, but that’s what everyone says. In truth, her entire voluptuous body is her best feature.Standing at six feet tall, Candi towers over the other sluts. All that height comes from her long, thick legs, which perfectly match her big-titted body. However she stands, her thick hips and curvy...
Fantasy & Sci-FiMy story about making new friends and experiencing new cultures.......I grew up in an affluent town 12 miles north of Boston. During high school, inner city students from the Boston/metro area were shipped in small numbers to go to school in the more affluent, suburban schools surrounding Boston. It was during this time I met Eduardo or "Eddie" as we called him. He was a Dominican k** from Boston, and from the moment we met in school, we hit it off. We became really good friends; we hung out...
M/FAna and I had formed a relationship by now, after being found out by her boyfriend. We decided to take a weekend retreat to a hotel room. It was December, Christmas time.The weather was cold and icy. We lay on a bed together, flipping channels, trying to decide when to start fucking. I had a surprise for her. I bought her a present, a foot long one inch diameter candy cane. Neither she, not I, expected us to take the turn we did.We made out, embracing each other's warmth in the cold weather....
M/FAna and I had formed a relationship by now, after being found out by her boyfriend. We decided to take a weekend retreat to a hotel room. It was December, Christmas time.The weather was cold and icy. We lay on a bed together, flipping channels, trying to decide when to start fucking. I had a surprise for her. I bought her a present, a foot long one inch diameter candy cane. Neither she, not I, expected us to take the turn we did.We made out, embracing each other's warmth in the cold weather....
I come home after a long day. Home sweet home. Big and empty. Exactly as I like it. I lie down on my king-sized bed, and finally exhale. God, I needed that. It’s not easy being a big and tall Black guy in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. People stare at you so much sometimes you wonder if you’re an alien. And it’s not just Caucasians doing the staring. East Asians, North American Indians and Arabs stare at my Black ass too. I thought they were minorities too but go figure. Anyhow, I try...
My name is Steve LaFleur. A big and tall young African-American man of Haitian descent living in the city of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born in the city of Boston, Massachusetts, in 1987. I’ve been living in Ottawa since 2009. I moved here because I had a scholarship offer from Carleton University. It’s the only reason why I’m in Canada. The place really sucks. And I can’t stand Black Canadians. Why? They’re all Oreos. In case you don’t know, an Oreo is someone who’s Black on the...
The Beginning Incendiumaeger Obscurus Dominusluna was his given name, but Lynx Atratus was his Wiccan Name . He was only seven when his parents died by the hands of the Church. The Clan Ducere, Arg Lunaris, then adopted him. Lynx knew the arts of Juudoo; Kendoo; Jiu Jitsu; Aikidoo; and Nihontsu. He was also trained in the style of fighting that the Romans used, called Genus Hyades. Lynx knew only the Spells of Protection and that of Regeneration. He was Norwegian, and was raised by...
Cum Candies By SG [email protected] I decided to take a short break from my main writing project that I’m working on to play with this story. I wanted to try out a couple different writing styles and ideas that had formed in my head. As always, I greatly appreciate any feed back, thoughts and ideas you can give. So I guess this all started a couple days back. One could argue that this all began at age thirteen when I first discovered my passion for exhibitionism among other...
"Computer, start recording!" "Acting Captain, Commander Malcolm Reed, starlog March 27h, 2155. We are en-route to New Xindus on a diplomatic mission to mediate in inter-racial talks between the Xindi, with the goal of reinstating the Insectoids to the Xindi council. This mission has been requested by the Aquatics. The estimated arrival time is 8 weeks from now. After their neurological shock, Captain T'Pol and Commander Tucker have regained consciousness and have started a...
Candi Part 2 I woke up with my finger between my legs enjoying the sensations along with my other hand flicking on my nipple. As warm sensations brought me awake I quickly stopped. I laid there for a few moments then gathered my thoughts. I had to tinkle so putting on my high heeled slippers admiring my red toes peeping out of the open toes. My satin robe was next. I swished into the bathroom. Sitting down to pee a bunch of orders went through my brain. Wiping myself I got...
Summer days can be hellish in New York City. The city is really nothing but a giant heat sink. But on this particular summer day, a cold front had moved through and cooled things off considerably. I'd been fortunate enough to wrap up my business meeting by noon, and with nothing on my calendar for the afternoon, the rest of the day was my own. I went home to my apartment and changed from my business suit into more casual attire. I put on blue slacks and a gray-and-white striped dress shirt,...
A couple of hours later I went into the bedroom to free Candy and let her get ready for her performance at the bookstore. Even though her hands were tied she still managed to get herself off; there was a small puddle of pussy juice between her legs. I untied her, flipped her over on her stomach and gave her ass cheeks several swats with my hand. "Oww, what was that for," Candy mewed as she rubbed her ass. "Because I can. Anytime, anywhere, better get used to it, Candy, 'cause I love...
[ For A & T once again, and for all those white couples seeking an interracial c***d! ]My name is Khalid. I am from Rabat, Morocco. I am 33 years of age. I have a very interesting experience I'd like to relate that I was part of last year, in early October. I met up with a young European married couple (Hanna, and her husband Krystian) after the three of us had chatted for several months on-line about the possibility that Hanna might become pregnant. Naturally, I inquired as to why Krystian...
Hi I will introduce myself I'm kim 26 years with blond hair and am addicted to big moroccan dicks. Recently on a Friday night, I again had a tendency to play for white slut. I therefore went to see a group mocros. However bizarre, I stood there with six big Moroccans in a strange house. Yet it seemed she did not uitwaren directly on sex. They did not really advances. It all came conversations going and there was all kinds of drink poured. It just seemed like a great atmosphere but I did not...
My car was in the shop so I was carpooling with the wife. She had come out of the bathroom wringing wet from the shower and had a towel wrapped around her waist. Admiring her still gorgeous body I couldn’t help but to stare as she dropped the towel to begin dressing. Her ample bosom was still high on her chest with only a slight sag. She was only able to bore one child, a daughter that was now a senior in high school. The problems she had at birth caused a complete hysterectomy. My head...
Sorry for taking so long to publish another article about mom or my wife Veronika but decided to go with mom on this one. During the winter it was hard to watch mom getting fucke d because of food and snow, the party's mom, dad and John had continued regularly, some times at some black guys home but mostly in our rec room. One spring evening when I was 16, John came over to talk to mom and dad, asked where I was and when told I was upstairs doing homework, he started telling them about a black...
Candy's Story by Emily Ross Part 1 The afternoon sun streamed in through the windows. Phil and Sarah lay side by side on the bed, getting their breath back. After a long pause Candy turned to Phil and spoke. "Phil, wouldn't you like me to move in here? We've been going out together for six months, nearer seven. Think of the money we'd save on the rent for my flat. We could easily save up the deposit for a house." Phil looked at her, showing no emotions. She carried on, "Well?...
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, it is a TG alt universe story and you will need to be patient to get to the understanding of it. Story depicts consensual sex in very graphic detail, so if you are squeamish about it or it is illegal where you are, please STOP reading here... When Loreili met Candice An Amorous Encounter Part Une of Loreili and Candice Saga Looking at the imposing gates of the LA mansion of Loreili, Candice feels a surge of apprehension for the first...
My parents were gone again on one of their numerous trips and Candace and I had the run of the house. We were used to being on our own of sorts, there was the staff of course, but they all lived in the 6 bedroom cottage on the other side of the Olympic sized swimming pool, we only saw them at meal times and when they were cleaning the house; and then never after 8pm. I was walking past my sisters' bedroom when I heard moans and low murmurings. Her door was open a crack and I was able to see...
Candice Parker - Part 1 Chapter 1 - Inheritance "Excuse me?" asked Candice Aileen Parker, in complete shock. "Oh, there's no mistake, Miss Parker. You heard what you thought you just heard," smiled Mr. Adams, the attorney who was acting as executor for the estate. "Mr. Simmons bequeathed his entire estate to you alone, with no conditions attached. Just prior to his death, he decided to liquidate most of his holdings, in order to simplify matters; so aside from the mansion in...
Note : This story is completely fictional! Candace didn’t know why she let her friends Charlie (Charlene) and Anne talk her into going to this convention. Sundays were her rest days after clubbing on Saturday nights she needed Sundays to recuperate. Now she would go to work tomorrow and be all dragged out. Candace, Charlie and Anne had been walking around the large convention for the past hour when Charlie asked, “Candace isn’t that your Ginny from high school.” That caught Candace’s attention...
LesbianCandice Parker - Part 3 Chapter 8 - Game Recognizes Game Three weeks later, Candice was sweeping one of the mansion's many ceramic tile floors, preparing it for a thorough mopping, when she heard Mrs. Belfridge's voice coming from the doorway. "Miss Parker, Ms. Rockwell wants to see you in her office right away. She said that it's something urgent." "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Belfridge." Candice thought it odd that Ms. Rockwell would send someone rather than come herself, but she put...
She met Max at a play she and her husband Greg had attended. It had been a dumb play where people act as dogs. Max was an interesting man. Bigger than her husband, mustached and far more assertive. He must have spotted her looking at him because he walked right over and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Max. How are you?” he opened. Candice replied that her name was Candice and her husband’s name was Greg. Greg said hello but Max glanced at him and talked only to her. They talked about the...
Matthew Pottinger did just as he was told, running his hands up and down Candace Owen’s voluptuous body, caressing her ebony skin, squeezing her meaty breasts, and stroking her big, round ass while she writhed and squirmed. “Candace” – pretty name, pretty girl. Built like a brick house. Real hot body. Big, tall, and busty. 5’ 5”. 135lbs. 33-26-34. DD cup. Smooth ebony skin. Long, thick, curly black hair glistened with mousse. Leggy. Big, firm tits. Full, round ass. Dressed nice and slutty....
Matthew Pottinger did just as he was told, running his hands up and down Candace Owen’s voluptuous body, caressing her ebony skin, squeezing her meaty breasts, and stroking her big, round ass while she writhed and squirmed. “Candace” – pretty name, pretty girl. Built like a brick house. Real hot body. Big, tall, and busty. 5’ 5”. 135lbs. 33-26-34. DD cup. Smooth ebony skin. Long, thick, curly black hair glistened with mousse. Leggy. Big, firm tits. Full, round ass. Dressed nice and slutty....
I didn't realize how much my life was changing until it was almost too late. The transition was slow as I moved from the life of a carefree twenty-something to being a more responsible, middle aged husband and father.As the years crept by, the youthful exuberance my wife and I once shared slowly gave way to the repetitive boredom of everyday life. Maybe that’s what they call getting old. Then again, maybe it’s just the ongoing process of growing up.The thing was, I wasn’t enjoying getting...
CheatingLate December 1996 – January 1997 We had the big Christmas Day party at Banksia Lodge, much as we had done in previous years. My father again played ‘Santa Claus’, handing out presents to all the children present. On Boxing Day, we watched the televised start of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, there were some impressive boats; a huge Reichel/Pugh maxi, owned by the head of the software company SAP. ‘Morning Glory’ was first out of the harbour, followed by ‘Condor of Currabubula’,...