BRUSSELS, MARCH
E-MAILS
ANGELA FISCHER TO LUKE
Dearest Luke
Ulrike gave me your e-mail address nearly a month ago, after your weekend in the Ardennes, but it's taken me this long to think everything through.
Luke, have you got any idea how happy she is? She paid a flying visit the other weekend and we talked for I don't know how long. She hasn't told me everything, I'm sure, but something's happened and it must be you. She's happier with herself, and more relaxed about the problems with the person she's seeing at college, and she can talk about you without that strained look that she had for a while. I suspect she loves you more than she knows, and when she said she'd managed to say something about that, I nearly cheered. If it were anyone else I'd be worried to death, but with you I know she's safe.
She's told me something about your life in Brussels. It sounds as if you've been having a fine old time there. God knows what the diplomatic community must make of you. If they're anything like the ones I know then you're a most salutary treat for them.
When Ulrike and I were talking at Christmas I jokingly mentioned that it was about time I had my twice-yearly crack at you. When she took me seriously I tried to pull back, but she wasn't having any of it, and I felt terrible. One, because mothers and daughters don't share men, and two, because just the thought of it got my juices flowing. I don't know what poor Klaus imagined was happening. I was demanding his special massages every day and driving him wild. You know he doesn't really like touching women in that way. Still, he's less clinical than a vibrator.
And now, without pulling any strings, (I solemnly promise), an invitation has arrived out of the blue. There's an EU Interior Ministers' meeting in Brussels in two weeks and the Austrian Ambassador is hosting a reception. And I was at school with his wife, and one thing led to another and... I swear I didn't angle for the invitation, but it arrived. Serendipity, I think it's called
So... could you bear the idea of escorting an old hag to the reception? It'll be nice safe territory for us to say hello to each other again, and decide if it's OK to have fun, or whether it might not be such a good idea. Ulrike explained how she'd brought the subject up, and she told me your reaction, and that I shouldn't take you for granted: don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs, I told her. It was so wonderful to see her really caring about someone else, even if it was only me. (Maybe it was you as well – I've only just thought of that.)
Tell me if it's a good idea or not.
With love, Angela
LUKE TO ANGELA
Old hag be damned. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to escort, (virtuously if necessary), the second most beautiful woman in Austria to a diplomatic reception. New experiences are the spice of life. Uli is something else, and it's a privilege to know her, and I'm working at understanding and responding to what she said. (Why do you still call her Ulrike, by the way?) But apart from that, you and I are the people who know best how hard she's worked and how much she's achieved, and we're allowed to get together and gloat over her success. Tell me where you're going to be staying, and I'll pick you up, do the diplomatic bit, and give you supper afterwards. It'll give me a chance to show off my new suit.
Love, Luke
ULI TO LUKE
Hi, darling,
Mum's so excited about her trip that she can't sleep! She called me to ask what you meant about the suit and I told her to wait and see. Don't worry too much: I trust you and I trust her, and I know you'll help her if she lets you. She could probably help you too, if you've got the balls to talk to her. Anyway, if the two people I love most in the world can't help each other, then what have we come to?
Work here is horrendous, and I'm not going to surface till Easter at least. Lottie and I are designing and cutting and sewing all night, and lectures and classes are still in full swing all day. If they could bottle sleep and sell it I'd buy a case.
Things with Dieter are difficult, but I'm handling them better than I thought I would: some of the problem is work, and the rest isn't his fault and I'm not going to bitch about him. When we see each other I might ask you for some Luke-type advice.
Please be nice to Mum: she deserves it, and she's due some good times. The bed bit is up to the two of you, as long as she has some fun and starts thinking positive: I've thought about it and I'm not going to be jealous of my own mother. If Trudi and Inge and the Brussels chorus-line don't worry me, why should she?
Luke, everything we said last month is burned into my soul. If you want me not to love you, you'll have to turn yourself into someone I can't love.
Always, between the ears,
Uli
LUKE to ULI
Message received. Keep helping me. Easter together, please, if you can spare the time. Would you like to come to Spain? I need to do some work on the house. Ears, XXXXX
ELENA, MAGDA, ANITA
There really is nothing like a long luxurious bath, Magda decided as she added more hot water to the steaming tub. She was small enough to stretch out completely, and only her face and nipples broke the surface. She felt at peace with the world, and thinking about the reception and what might happen afterwards gave her a pleasant fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew Jurgen would be there, and that if she played her cards right, then maybe... Her hand stole to her crotch and she pulled and twisted her pubic topknot gently, enjoying the feel of the hot water seeping between her heavy labia.
The classes were going better too, she mused. The first time after her talk with Luke had been awkward, but he'd been as confident as ever and had helped her to handle it as well. And the night she'd spent with him last week had been the best yet. She pulled her pubic tuft a little harder as she remembered his cock nudging the mouth of her pussy and sliding in, slowly, oh so slowly, so that she could feel every vein as she drew him into her, the broad head stretching her with its familiar, gentle insistence, always the same, always fresh and different. The taste of her on his lips as their mouths met in a languorous kiss had excited her beyond belief. He was completely honest, she thought fondly. He'd explained what had caused the post-Christmas problems, admitted that he'd failed, letting his own emotions affect their learning relationship as well as their personal one, how he'd been forced to accept that his feelings for Uli had been blocking him, how he owed her for pointing this out to him... How many men, she wondered, would have taken the trouble to say so much? Now that she knew why a part of him was missing, and understood that he wasn't withholding anything except the corner of him that needed the Austrian girl, she'd been able to relax back into the innocent sensuality that had helped turn her into Magda mark II.
'I've said this to Anita and Elena as well,' he'd murmured wryly, 'and I suppose you'll be comparing notes. When you do that, remember that I try to tailor classes to individual students. I say the same things, but in a way that I hope will engage each of them most directly. I've got to say that I've done the same with you three. No deception, just trying to connect completely. I've told them that bit as well,' he'd added. 'It's my own fault for having such bloody smart students, I suppose. Next year I'll make sure I get cretins.' The laugh had died in her throat as he'd begun again, caressing her breasts with his tongue and then moving south, using his mouth to excite her to fever pitch before driving into her and guiding her to another thrashing, moaning orgasm. Her hand snaked down from her mound and began to stroke the tingling lips of her pussy.
'What are you doing in there? Wearing out the soap?' Anita's clear voice rang out and made Magda jump. The door swung open and Anita hurried in and flung herself onto the toilet. She exhaled contentedly and began to piss. Magda smiled as a look of relief spread over her friend's face and Anita grinned at her.
'That's better. I thought I was going to burst. I'm only going to shower, so you don't have to rush out. What are you wearing? It's not black tie, is it?'
'No, thank God.' Magda sat up and started conditioning her hair, combing it carefully. Her slim torso glowed in the steamy warmth of the bathroom.
'Are you calmer than you were during class?' she asked mischievously. She knew that Anita had stayed behind to "go over a few things" with Luke. Anita blushed, and then smiled reluctantly. She wiped herself delicately, wincing a little, then stood up and began to strip off her clothes.
'Bitch. It was wonderful. He could tell I was gagging for it and he took me from behind, over the classroom table, without even taking my knickers down. Just spun me round, pulled them to one side, and forced it into me, right between the tattoos, and I was so wet he slid straight in. My jeans were round my ankles and I couldn't move, and he wouldn't stop... God he's incredible: it was all over in twenty minutes, but it felt like an hour. I came like a train, three times, and I'm still feeling wobbly.' Her bra and panties followed her other clothes into the laundry basket and she turned to the mirror to inspect herself. Her pussy lips were slightly swollen, and Magda could see faint bruising on her hips: marks that could have been caused by strong fingers digging into delicate flesh. Her own pussy prickled enviously and she smiled to herself in anticipation.
'You like it a bit rough sometimes, don't you?' she said idly. 'That's not what I thought when I first met you. I thought you were little Miss Prim.' Anita squinted at herself, examining her face.
'Only a bit, and only sometimes,' she said quickly. 'Not what I thought either, and that's why I was crawling up the walls. And I was a bit prim, I suppose. Too shy to ask, too repressed to masturbate, too silly to realize. But here I am, stark naked, with his cum still dripping out of me, talking to you about it. He's sorted me out, bless him.' She stood up and ran her hands over her breasts, twisting her nipples gently till they stiffened, the areolas puckering. Her body shone with health, every muscle defined and toned without compromising her femininity. 'He made me look at myself. I always knew I was physical, but I hadn't made the connection between working out hard and liking hard sex. If he gives me a good seeing-to every two or three weeks that's fine by me, and to be honest it's all I need: I don't get distracted, and I can get on with my work. I'm not as complicated as you or Elena. You didn't say what you were wearing tonight.' Magda was using the shower attachment to rinse her hair.
