Author's Note: This is part 1 of a longer story. It starts off slowly but there's sex eventually.
*
Do you remember where you were when the Berlin Wall fell? I remember it well as I was getting shafted at work at that time. I was working for M_____ & W_____, a medium-sized import-export firm based in London as an associate, looking for promotion to senior associate. I was up against Mike Thornwood, the most brown-nosing, arrogant SOB that ever lived. Did you get the impression that I didn't like him? You would be right. Only one of us could become a senior associate and get on the partner-track, and of course Mike bloody Thornwood won. I couldn't stand to watch his condescending smile every day at work so I had made up my mind to leave the company. I typed up my resignation letter, too angry to even wait and look for another job first, and went looking for my boss.
His beautiful assistant, the leggy Maria, smiled sympathetically at me as I went past her into his office. 'I'd like to resign,' I said without preamble, sliding the envelope with my resignation letter on his desk towards him.
He ignored it, and looked at me speculatively. 'You've been with us, what, ten years?'
I nodded. I had joined the company straight out of college at the age of twenty two. That made me thirty-two, a thought that made me slightly depressed given that I had no girlfriend, I lived in a dump of an apartment in East London and I would be jobless as soon as my notice period was served.
'You are not married,' my boss said, a statement, not a question. He picked up my resignation letter and tore it without even taking it out of the envelope. I stared at him open-mouthed. Was he even allowed to do that? He dropped the pieces into the waste paper basket and said, 'I have a better offer for you.'
That's how I found myself a few months later, walking out of Musackva airport. The company had decided that the fall of the Berlin Wall meant that there were great opportunities in the post-communist world and I was now the head of the East European division - a title grander than it really was, given that the East European division was one office in the city of Musackva with one employee, an ex-soviet apartchik called Georgi. I had complete carte-blanche to run the office as I saw fit as long as I stayed within the generous budget of three hundred thousand pounds a year. Included in that was my own cost of one hundred thousand pounds a year because it included a hardship allowance and a house in a nice part of town. The office cost seventy thousand pounds a year and Georgi was on fifty. That meant I had eighty thousand a year to staff my division. That would be enough to hire two more employees, I thought. I vowed to make a success of it and show bloody Thornwood back home, who now had his own assistant, damn him. I had got a promise out of my boss that they would stick with the East European division for at least three years regardless of profits so I knew I had time.
I collected my bags from the belt and pushed my rusty, wonky trolley through the airport, with its fading walls and empty shops and came out of the airport. It felt as if I was walking into a freezer. It was cold, the trees were bare, the buildings drab. My god, it was depressing. It would take thirty years to sort out this place - not three. I saw a stocky middle-aged man holding a placard with my name and walked over to him. 'Georgi?' I asked.
'Yes, yes, Mr Fred,' he said and I already disliked him. He was oily and seemed shady. I decided that I was being hasty and should be more tolerant. As we drove to the house where I would be living, I asked him about the business and found that he had been doing nothing. He hadn't met a single client, he hadn't followed up any leads for importers and he hadn't set up any appointments for me to meet any suppliers. 'I have found the perfect assistant for you,' he said. 'Tomorrow, she come to office.'
'Why tomorrow?' I asked. 'Why not today?'
'Today? But you just arrive now. Take day off. I show you Musackva. Tomorrow you start office.'
I shook my head. I had three years and I was going to make the most of them. 'No, today,' I said.
Georgi seemed disgruntled, but I didn't care about that. We pulled up outside a large single-storey bungalow with a wall all round it. Georgi pushed a button on a remote and the gates opened. He handed it to me. 'This was Commisar's house,' he said proudly. 'I got for you.'
'It looks good,' I said, impressed. But inside, I was thinking that I didn't need a house this grand. An apartment in the city centre would have been sufficient, and perhaps more practical. He dropped me off outside the house. 'I change appointment for assistant interview,' he said, and left as soon as I took my suitcase out of the boot.
I stood there looking at the house. The front was stone and glass. Part of the house was on two storeys and part on one floor. The roof was made of red tiles. A garden surrounded it on all sides and the whole house was surrounded by a tall wall. It was very private. As I was wondering what to do, the door opened and out walked the most stunning woman I had ever seen. She had a beautiful round face, an impressive bust and the short skirt she was wearing showed off her long legs. She could easily be a model and I wondered if Georgi had dropped me off at the wrong house. She broke into a smile when she saw me and curtseyed. I am not kidding you. This beautiful girl actually bent at her knees and bobbed her head like I was some prince. It made me feel ten feet tall. 'Good Morning, Mr Fred,' she said. Her accent was charming, like the rest of her. The cat had got hold of my tongue, so I just nodded.
She pointed to herself and my eyes went straight past her finger to her chest. 'Me Natalya. Housekeeper,' she said, beaming.
I reluctantly looked away from her chest and at her face. She smiled and bent forward to pick up my suitcase. Hurriedly, I bent too and reached for the handle of the suitcase. My hand covered hers and an electric thrill ran through me at the cool touch of her skin. The front of Natalya's shirt had fallen forwards and I had a perfect view of her large, creamy boobs. My mouth went dry as I stared hungrily at them. I remembered that it had been celibate since I had broken up with my girlfriend almost a year ago. My cock hardened with desire and I hurriedly withdrew my hand. What was I doing? Perving on a girl I had just met! She must have seen what I was staring at, but she didn't seem to mind. 'Please let me carry it,' I said, but she just smiled and lifted the case.
Or at least she tried to, but it was too heavy for her. She tried again before she left it. Tears formed in her eyes. 'Sorry.'
'That's okay,' I said, patting her on the shoulder and picking up the suitcase. It was heavy even for me. After all, it was carrying everything I owned and hadn't got rid of in London. I handed my rucksack to Natalya and she smiled widely as she took it. 'Thank you, thank you,' she said. I had been brought up to let ladies go first and I was grateful for those manners as I walked behind her into the house, looking at her shapely ass as it moved under her thigh-high skirt. I whistled when I walked in. A hearth in front of a log fireplace dominated the large living room. An L-shaped sofa took up one corner. A deep shag-pile lay on the floor and tasteful paintings hung on the walls.
Natalya turned to me and asked, 'You like?' I nodded and she smiled. 'I clean,' she said. She pointed me to the sofa and when I sat down, she picked up an envelope and handed it to me. Mystified, I slit it open and pulled out the letter inside. As I unfolded it, I glanced up and saw Natalya standing in front of me, her hands gripping each other. She looked very nervous which puzzled me even more. I started reading the letter. It was from the landlord, welcoming me to the house. I knew he was an ex-communist who had made a packet and moved to the French Riviera. Towards the end of the letter, I saw why Natalya was so nervous.
The house has an annexe for a housekeeper. The current housekeeper is Natalya Maletska. She will stay in the annexe and is available 24x6. She has one day off a week but you can decide which day that is. Her salary of 1000 Koruna is paid for the first month and it is up to you whether to keep her or not. If you intend to change the housekeeper, let her know within a week of moving in.
I looked up at Natalya. Her nervousness had increased while I had been reading the letter and I didn't understand it. One thousand Koruna was about one hundred and fifty pounds. Two hundred and a bit dollars in American money. A beauty like this girl should be able to sign up as a model and make fifty times as much. She silently handed me a handwritten note.
I don't know English but I am a hard worker. I will cook and clean and look after you very well. Please keep me as housekeeper.
That was a kicker. She was lovely to look at but would it be any good having a housekeeper who I couldn't communicate with? 'I am not sure,' I said, before I stopped, realising she wouldn't understand what I said anyway. She may not have understood what I had said but she definitely got the meaning of it.
She fell to her knees in front of me and placed her hands on my knees. 'Please please,' she said. Then she started talking rapidly in her native tongue, clearly pleading her case. She saw my lack of comprehension and burst into tears.
Fuck me, I am just a man and I can't handle a woman crying, especially if she's good-looking. I took a deep breath and said, 'It's okay. I'll keep you.'