December (Part 1)
Christmas was a week away and Karl and Ulrika had finished school the day before. Their end of term reports had glowed and I'd received a typed note of thanks from Herr Fischer, enclosing a thousand euros in crisp new notes. Underneath his signature another hand had written, 'My thanks as well. No Christmas invitation, but maybe one day.' There was no signature. I stuffed the money into my pocket and went down to the dining room. As I slipped into my usual chair Frau Kurtz spoke.
'Herr Lancer, Frau Fischer is joining us this evening. We will be celebrating the beginning of the Christmas Holidays.' She sounded as if the whole idea of celebration was only one step away from eating babies for breakfast, and I grinned at my two students.
'And you both deserve to celebrate.' I turned to the scowling housekeeper. 'Don't you think so, Frau Kurtz?' She didn't say anything and I winked at Karl and Ulrika. The door opened and Frau Fischer floated into the room.
'All together at last. It's a shame Herr Fischer is so busy. But I have some news. I can't stay though: there's a reception at the Hungarian embassy and the Ambassador was insistent that I attend.' The maid came in with the first course and we began to eat. Frau Fischer swallowed daintily and I felt a twinge of nostalgia. I'd hardly seen her since our astonishing night in October, and I remembered her swallowing much less politely.
'Well,' she said, 'there's a lot to tell you. First, I'm joining Herr Fischer in Estonia tomorrow; we'll be spending Christmas there as guests of the Minister of Development. It seems that there's a big contract in the offing. Brussels money, you understand.'
I watched Karl and Ulrika. Normal kids would have been clamouring to be allowed to go too, but they accepted the news calmly, as if it was half expected. They were growing up fast, as if they were making up for lost time. I'd adjusted the set of their sails and their courses had changed. Apparently it had rubbed off at school too. I'd seen it happen before, but I was still pleased. Their mother continued.
'Karl, the mother of your friend Fritz telephoned me. She's asked if you could join them for a fortnight's skiing over Christmas and New Year. Apparently Fritz' sister is inviting a friend too.' Karl's face lit up, and Frau Fischer went on more sternly. 'I said that you could go on condition that you spent at least two hours a day studying. I'm sure Herr Lancer can give you sufficient work. Would you like to go?' Karl's mouth was full but he nodded enthusiastically. His mother turned to me.
'Herr Lancer, in order to be fair, Ulrika must continue with classes over the holidays as well. Would you be prepared to do that?' I glanced at Ulrika.
'Of course, Frau Fischer.' Ulrika looked sideways at me and I thought I saw a gleam of anticipation cross her face. Her mother sighed.
'Herr Lancer, I must explain what happens over Christmas in this household. Naturally, cook and the maid need time off, and they'll be away from the twenty third to the second of January. Frau Fischer visits her mother in Salzburg from the twenty second to the third. I'm afraid that you and Ulrika will have to keep each other company over the holidays.' My warning signals all went off at once. The woman was planning to leave her daughter with me for two weeks with no other supervision. Was it selfishness or calculation? Frau Kurtz was looking as if she'd swallowed a spider. I cleared my throat.
'Maybe we can discuss the details afterwards, Frau Fischer.' She nodded politely and took a sip of Perrier. The meal dragged on. When the maid had cleared dessert I pushed my chair back.
'If Karl's going to be off tomorrow evening I'd better start preparing a package for him. Frau Fischer, if you could spare ten minutes later I'd be grateful.'
* * * * * * * * * *
I was putting Karl's holiday work together in the classroom when the door opened and Frau Fischer came in. She smiled and kissed me hard.
'Hello properly, Luke. You're wondering what the hell I'm up to, aren't you?'
'Angela, you're planning to leave your nineteen year old daughter with a virtual stranger nearly twice her age while you swan off to Estonia having made sure that the house will be empty. Of course I'm bloody wondering.' She sighed.
'Luke, I'm not giving you permission to abuse Ulrika. But you've changed them both so much for the better that I'm going to trust you a little. I told you I'm selfish, but it's mostly in self defence. I was Ulrika's age when I married her father and I know how confused she is. When she goes to university she'll be like I was, easy prey for anyone. So teach her some of the things she'll need to know, please.' I was gobsmacked. I didn't know what to say.
'Does Herr Fischer know about this?' She snorted.
'Leave Herr Fischer to me. Why do you think he wants me to meet the Estonian minister? Saving Ulrika from this sort of life is what I'm trying to do. I don't want her to be worrying me with her problems for the next God knows how many years.' Jesus, I thought.
'And what about Ulrika?' She snorted again.
'Obviously, I haven't spoken to her except to tell her to behave. Just remember that she's still got to pass her exams and you've still got to earn your bonus.'
'No promises, Angela. You know I'm cautious.' She leaned over and kissed me again.
'I know. And you're kind as well as clever. That's why I'm trusting you. Now I really must pack. This week's going to be hectic.' She turned and hurried out; I shook my head and went back to organising Karl's holiday task.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ulrika lay in bed, reading and making notes. She came to the end of the chapter and put the book down, thinking about the surprises at dinner. Three months ago the thought of Karl going somewhere while she was left behind would have driven her to open rebellion, but now she didn't seem to mind. As she thought about the past three months she realised that she and Karl hadn't played their summer game for since the first class of term. Something was happening to her and she didn't know what, but it was good. And now the Christmas holidays had suddenly turned into an adventure. She slipped a hand under her tee-shirt and began to caress her breasts.
Her fingers stroked her soft teats and they started to come to life. She pinched them gently and tugged them, feeling the firm skin on her breasts stretch. Her nipples felt fatter and fuller and the nerves under her skin were tingling. Pushing back the duvet she clenched her thighs together, feeling the welcome dampness beginning to seep through the folds of her cunt. Her heartbeat quickened, and she licked her fingers and fondled her teats again. She moved her hands down and ran her fingers through the blonde curls that covered her mound. When she twisted the strands together and pulled softly she could feel her lips stretching and twisting and her clit sliding against the walls of its little sheath. She pulled her lips apart and felt her petals stir and unfurl as the dew of her arousal began to flow more insistently, then raised her hands to her nipples again and scraped them lightly with her nails, gasping as a ribbon of warm fire raced through her body. It was as if her breasts and her cunt were joined by thin cords of flame, each feeding on the other.
Reaching over to the drawer of the bedside table she brought out a hairbrush. The wooden handle was smooth and tapering, and she held it to her nose and sniffed gently. The wood smelt faintly of her, and she put the end into her mouth and sucked. Her other hand moved to her clit and rubbed the hood. It was odd, she thought, to be sucking a wooden prick that tasted of her own pussy. She imagined it was a real prick, then the blood rushed to her face as she realised whose she wished it was. Her clit pulsed, thrusting itself out from its shell, and she moved her finger lightly over it. The cords of fire sent the sensation up to her nipples and back again, and her legs fell further apart. She brought the handle of the brush down to her cunt, sliding it along her slit and through her sensitive folds. The smooth wood stimulated without scraping and she gave herself up to the growing spiral of pleasure.
She dipped the brush into her cunt and it slipped gently in, stretching her just enough to send another wash of lust through her. She withdrew it and licked it again. It was slick with her juices, and their musky sharpness filled her mouth. She ran her tongue over it and then thrust it back into the greedy hole at her centre. She felt the walls of her vagina trying to grasp the smooth wood, and shuddered as she rubbed and probed, massaging her G spot softly. Her clit was hard to the touch and she grasped it delicately between the tips of her fingers, squeezing and tugging as she slid the brush out of her body and drew it lingeringly down to her asshole. She rubbed the rim of her anus lightly with the slick handle and her breathing quickened. Her cunt was empty now, and longing to be filled again. She pushed two fingers into herself and rotated her hand slowly, savouring the sensation of her nails scraping the walls of her pussy, gasping as they crossed her G spot, writhing forward onto her hand as her orgasm began to flower. It started deep inside her and she felt the unstoppable tide slowly rising. Her hand was hot and slippery and a rush of moisture slid over the inside of her wrist. As the pressure built, her breathing grew ragged, until with a mew of pleasure she pinched her clit hard and the wave broke. Her lower body convulsed, and she gripped her wrist with her thighs, holding her hand inside her pussy as the tremors faded. She rolled onto her side and basked in the afterglow, feeling warm and content and only a little bit sinful. It didn't occur to her that only three months ago her masturbation had been compulsive and harsh, frenzied, but ultimately unsatisfying.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Three taxis stood outside the house. Ulrika, Frau Kurtz and I stood on the steps and waved goodbye dutifully. Karl and his skis were in one cab, Frau Fischer was in the second, and the third one held her luggage. They moved off in convoy and we went back inside. I looked round the hall and realised that something was missing. There wasn't a hint of Christmas in the whole house. Not an ornament, not a pine needle: nothing. Frau Kurtz went up to her room without a word. The soap operas were calling her. Ulrika and I looked at each other.
'Come on kid,' I said. 'Time for a little work. Only two hours though: aren't we lucky to be on holiday?' She smiled shyly.
'Frau Kurtz goes tomorrow', she said, 'and cook and Trudi the day after. Are we really going to go to restaurants every day?'