A Lifetime Romance Bk. 02 Pt. 03

Often that took place in dark corners, rest rooms and even alley ways behind the club, but it gave her considerable appeal to certain types of guys.

It was a standard routine most club nights, I would hit the dance floor and she would stand there long enough to attract the right man.

If she was drunk a number of interesting sexual incidents might happen while I was dancing. And since men usually travel in herds I would frequently find myself going along with her to some apartment, or loft to finish off the evening.

That would typically also put me in some kind of compromising situation with whoever Emma wasn't screwing.

I never actually fucked any of them. Not because I was afraid of the fucking part. It was just that I like to at least know the guys last name before I let him into my body. And the situations she would get us into did not lend themselves to in-depth discussions about a bedmate's personal and sexual history.

Nevertheless, because Emma would normally spend the night loudly banging in one room, I often found myself in bed with some strange guy on the other side of the wall. And since I like sex I often did some very stimulating things with those men; just never crossed any actual lines.

That behavior had all changed when I got my own place. I didn't see Emma as often and we drifted apart. I was getting into much more serious relationships at that point, ones where I was actually regularly fucking the guy.

Then I met Paul and all of the kiddy experimentation came to an instant stop.

I had not had one thought of Emma, or our clubbing days, until Paul mentioned he had run into her. And I was justifiably very concerned about her spending any time with Paul.

He is totally naive when it comes to women like Emma. I know that he is so clueless because the vast majority of his experiences came with women who didn't know how to play the game any better than he did.

But the idea of leaving him with a sophisticated predator like Emma was sort of like leaving a baby in the clutches of a Bengal tiger and trusting it not to eat the kid.

So I had to warn him.

I could tell that my discussing my early sexual adventures also turned him on a lot.

The little lady in my head noted that for future exploitation. One should always be looking for ways to spice up your married sex life.

~

Paul

Korso is located in the Hotel Bristol, which is another five star hotel.

The Bristol was just a block and half from the Sacher so I walked there.

It was a beautiful evening in Vienna. The air was getting that fertile Springy texture to it and I was feeling lighthearted mainly because I thought I detected a delicious sense of possessiveness in my wife.

I am not stupid enough to even think about exploiting that but it DID indicate to me that maybe she felt the same crazy way about me as I did about her.

The entrance to Korso is off the street across from the Opera and it was everything I had expected.

It was obvious from the beginning that Emma was at least as sophisticated as Janey and the entire ambience reeked of money and class.

I had arrived a little early and the Maître'd showed me to my table. I knew I was going to be drinking wine. Women like Emma do not drink beer.

So I wanted to sample an Ottakringer, the local Viennese beer, while I waited.

As I sipped I looked around at Vienna's social elite. And make no mistake; this was where the crème-de-la-crème of their society hung out.

I was in one of the silk-blend bespoke suits that Janey has made for me by a tailor in Hong Kong.

Her taste is so unerringly perfect that she can even dress a hulking red-neck like me and make me look like a successful man.

Emma appeared fashionably late and three Ottakringers later.

She walked in the door looking ethereally beautiful and every male eye watched her with longing. Mine might have been the only exception, since I have a much more striking version as a life's companion. But Emma is beyond a doubt an exquisitely gorgeous creature.

Emma was done up in a way that emphasized her porcelain skin and flashing green eyes.

Janey often dresses to minimize her splendid chest. She thinks that showing off her girls without any purpose other than to generate sheer lust in the male onlookers is tacky.

On the other hand, Emma had clearly decided to go all out displaying her incredibly large shapely breasts.

There was no doubt that Miss Emma had a magnificent pair of bouncers. They were so big and she is so slim that they looked like somebody had attached two watermelons to a broomstick.

Those two beauties were on display to a point where I was wondering what kind of super glue she was using to keep her nipples just concealed under the deep cut out in the front.

Since Emma's skin was so flawlessly translucent the emerald color of the dress seemed to make it glow. And she was showing several inches of her slim beautifully shaped legs at the bottom.

She struck a pose just before she sat down and said with a certain amount of challenge in her eyes, "You like?" I liked a lot. She was

dazzling. But of course she was not close to being Janey.

I stood and attended to her chair. She sat with the classic grace of a well-bred woman. I sat down opposite and she was looking at me radiating good humor.

She said, "So you are the legendary Paul Larson, the guy our circle has heard so much about. Janey disappeared so fast off the social radar after you two met that none of her friends ever got the chance to know you."

I said, "It WAS rather sudden and it must have represented a mind-blowing change for Janey.

"After we met it seemed like the two of us just disappeared into a little cocoon of happiness and then just before the wedding we bought the house in Mystic.

"We moved there right after the honeymoon."

She looked slightly envious and said, "Where was the honeymoon?

I said, "I would have taken her anywhere but as you know she is crazy about history and so we spent the entire two weeks touring around Tuscany and the Italian coast from Rome to Naples.

I don't think there was a Roman or Greek ruin that we didn't poke around. She loves Italy and we eventually settled in Como after our child came along."

Emma looked sad. She said with tone of envy in her voice, "I have always wanted a child. But I guess it isn't in the stars for me. Tell me about yours."

I said, "Her name is Helen. It was natural to name her that because she was conceived in the ruins of ancient Troy.

"She might exceed her mother for sheer beauty. But I could be a little biased"

Emma looked intrigued and said, "Ancient Troy, tell me about THAT!"

I said, "We were sailing the Eastern Mediterranean at the time. I knew Janey wanted a child in the worst sort of way and you know how she is about history so I arranged for us to have some privacy at the archaeological dig that was going on at the site of the Troy of the Iliad.

"We made love there. It was our first attempt at conception and given the fact that Janey always does things better than any other female she managed to get herself knocked up first try.

"So it was natural to name our daughter Helen. If it had been a boy we would have either named him Hector, or Achilles. We call her Hilley and she is the other love of my life."

Emma looked like I had just confirmed everything she ever thought about her friend. I said, "So how did you and Janey get together?"

She said, "Janey and I used to rule the male population in high school.Janey and I had not exactly grown up on the same street. But since we were arguably the two hottest and richest girls at Philadelphia Prep Charter we evolved from arch rivals, to learning that it was easier to hunt men if you had a wing-chick.

"Once we got into college it just seemed logical to room together.

"Before coming into her family money she more-or-less lived like the other starving college students at Penn, meaning we had a neat little apartment that we shared.

"As you can see, Janey is as much opposite me as she can be and still be in the same species. She is short, dark and voluptuous where I am taller than average, very fair skinned and slim.

"But mainly, where she was athletic, I considered anything involving sweat to be exhausting and beneath my upbringing."

"What we did have in common were two of the largest pairs of tits on campus and an appetite for men that meant that we never went into places without somebody to guard our six. So Janey did the dancing and I did the drinking.

"In our early 20s the two of us used to go clubbing in New York every weekend. We'd ride up on the train on Friday and boogey until all hours. Then we would crash in some upscale hotel on my rich daddy's credit card and take the train home.

"I enforced a "No Creeps Zone" for her on the dance floor and she made sure that we got home safely and without any company that we didn't want to keep."

That coincided with what Janey had told me. Then Emma laughed and said, "Janey was pretty wild back in our clubbing days."

Suddenly I was beyond curious. I said, "I get the impression that she didn't have many men in her life before she met me."

Emma laughed uproariously and said, "She must have fucked half the eligible males in Manhattan. I don't think she was loudly playing video games during her long sweaty nights in some strange guy's bed."

That statement caused a jolt of jealousy that nearly killed me, even though Janey had warned me in advance.

If Janey had out-and-out lied to me about her sexual history then she was somebody I absolutely did not know and all of my old insecurities kicked in. I suddenly felt very forlorn and alone.

I didn't want Emma to sense any of that. So I told myself to grow up and address the current situation, which was dinner with a beautiful and accomplished woman.

We had ordered a $300 bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which Emma was killing like it was Kool-Aid. I wasn't sure about ordering a second bottle. Emma solved that problem by asking the waiter for another.

The food was as tasteful and exquisite as I expected and the evening wound on in a series of recollections of the past. But I couldn't get the idea of Janey fucking half of Manhattan out of my head and so I might have appeared a little distracted.

We ordered a decanter of the Marillenschnaps and I was watching Emma getting more-and-more toasted, when a bare foot began to snake its way up my leg.

My dinner companion was sitting there with the blandest, most innocent look on her face.

Nevertheless, I couldn't think of anybody else's foot that could reach that far except hers.

I shot out my chair trying to look like I was NOT startled. I said as suavely as possible, given the erection she had just given me, "I have to use the facilities and then I suppose we should put you in a cab since I have an early day tomorrow."

She said, "I could walk back to your hotel with you and find a cab from there."

I knew what she was angling for and we would be dive bombed by flying pigs before I invited her up to my room.

I decided that Miss Emma was indeed a VERY bad girl.

We walked the 300 yards or so up the Kärntner Strasse with her intimately holding my arm, one heavy breast resting on my forearm with a big rock hard nipple poking into it.

When we got to the lobby of the Sacher she turned to me looking dreamy and said, "I won't invite myself up to your room tonight. But you have to do me a favor and escort me to the annual UNODA fund raiser at the Palais Ferstel tomorrow. I am the coordinator and I don't have a date for it."

She added puppy-dog eyes to the dreamy look. I am always a sucker for puppy-dog eyes.

I was going to plead business but I am not that big a coward. And I really had nothing to do tomorrow night.

So I said, "I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman to her party, what kind of dress is it?"

She said, "Black tie. Do you have an outfit?"

I love black tie. It is so far from my early life experience I will take any opportunity to dress up like that.

So I said, "I can get one. What time do you want me to pick you up?"

She said, "I have to be there early to check the arrangements but I will leave word at the door. How about meeting me in ballroom at 7:00?"

I put her in a cab. She grabbed my hand as I was closing the door and said with an absolutely sizzling sexual look, "Thank you for a wonderful evening." She than kissed my hand while she proceeded to show me about a half-acre of cleavage and two of the biggest breasts in Western Europe.

I made my way rather unsteadily up to my room. It wasn't the drink. Miss Emma just seemed to have that effect on men, even a guy as happily married as I am.

I was thinking to myself, "This might be a fun new experience.

"But if I don't keep her away from alcohol it might also turn into a big game hunt featuring me as the prey."

I called Janey as soon as I got back.

She answered first ring like she was waiting by the phone.

I said, "You're right. She's definitely a man-eater. I barely got out of the restaurant with my virtue intact" the snicker I gave didn't even sound convincing to me.

There was dead air on the other end of the line.

I said, "Are you there?"

She said, "I am there my love and I assume because you are calling me so early in the evening that nothing untoward happened."

I said, "There weren't any outright attempts at raping me. But I think that she was headed in that direction." more cold silence at the other end of the line.

I decided that I really had no experience talking to a woman about things like that.

I said, "She talked me into accompanying her to some U.N. event they are throwing tomorrow night. I couldn't think of any way to get out of it without outright telling her that I was afraid of her.

"Do you want me to cancel? I will? It isn't like I am going to actually succumb to her charms but she is acting like the two of us are an item and that seems like a betrayal of you; even though everything has been strictly hands-off so far."

Janey said in a tone of voice that I did not recognize but which might have been close to the Janey of the Manhattan clubbing days, "No, you have to accompany her for sure. This is a challenge and I can play that game better than she can."

I thought, "What the fuck does that mean?" But I am aware that women's brains function on a wider bandwidth than men.

We went through the normal endearments that we have always shared before sleep and then I sadly ended the connection.

It was rainy the next day. But the rain was very light and it created a romantic setting with the wet streets and the people bustling past under umbrellas.

It was still warm and so the hotel had the street-side doors open in the Café.

I was sitting there sipping my Viennese coffee and eating some kind of intricate pastry confection. I was thinking about my conversation with Emma last night.

I am not what might be called the "jealous type". But Janey and I share a special bond that the best couples always have and there are never any secrets between us.

Last night's conversation was quite disturbing to me because it indicated that there might be some things that she wasn't telling me about her past life.

I was perfectly willing to accept the fact that somebody as sexual as my wife might have sown a few wild oats in her younger days.

After all, I ALREADY knew about the 54 year old that she was fucking when she was only 18.

But the concept of Janey having frequent indiscriminate sex with large numbers of faceless men just didn't jibe with the woman I thought I knew.

Worse, if she had been doing that I would expect her to tell me about it.

As much as my own confession shamed me I had eventually confessed my promiscuous life as a soldier and both of us were the better for that confession.

That was because it got the sins of my past out of the way between us and there were no more guilty barriers.

I was certain that the person who had been my partner for the past twelve years was someone of great honesty and personal integrity. That was not the same woman Emma had described.

What was upsetting me was the thought that perhaps Janey felt like she had to hide something important from me.

I owed it to Janey to not carry around thoughts that she was a whole lot sluttier in an earlier incarnation. And if she was, I needed to make it clear that she did not need to hide that fact.

So I owed her a frank talk when we were next together. Knowing that would happen, I put those insecurities in a box to deal with in their proper place. I had business to attend to now.

I paid my tab and wandered into the conference room, which I had reserved for the day. I had made arrangements with the Austrian representatives to meet me there.

All four were PhDs and three of them were Professors, which indicated how seriously the Austrians were taking our initiative.

I am a lot less intuitive and more of a plodder than Janey. Thus, the meeting with the Austrians took almost all day. The actual discussion was as brusque and formal as one might expect with people who insisted that you call them "Herr Doktor Professor".

Inside my head I was thinking to myself that academics insist on titles because they really don't have anything else going for them.

We probably spent more time on the administrative details than Janey would have but at the end of the meeting we had a satisfactory resolution.

We shook hands. One of them actually clicked his heels when he did it. I thought that they only did those things in the Prussian General Staff.

It was getting close to evening. I had told my guy in California to order up a tailored black tie ensemble from Knize, which is the best bespoke place in Vienna.

Of course he already had all of my measurements.

It had been delivered to my suite while I was in my meeting and it was hanging there waiting for me when I got to the room.

I had to admit that I was a little nervous. In the first place I am not an "Embassy Ball" kind of fellow. I have always depended on Janey's unerring social graces to get me through those kinds of evenings.

And I was more than a little afraid of what Emma might try to do afterward.

I had absolutely NO intention of letting her add me to her vast collection of men, even if I was not committed to a woman who I thought was the pinnacle of womanhood.

Likewise, the idea that Emma might leave the impression with the people attending the party that we were a couple was a little disquieting.

The problem was that I had no concept of how to handle Emma. I am not socially adept. I am the son of a bar fighting, whore fucking dockworker. I was a soldier and a businessman-nerd. I was never a person of sophistication.

And until I made my money there was never a woman in my life who was NOT as simple minded as I was.

I knew how to handle a bar slut's advances. But Emma was slippery, even though she was probably just as slutty as any of my past women.

She never gave me an opportunity to draw the line. Instead she stayed just the right side of appropriate, using innuendo and the occasional intimate touch to substitute for the direct come-on.

And if I HAD tried to draw some sort of line with her I would have looked like an egotistical jerk since what she was doing was a matter of interpretation, rather than actual fact.

For instance, everybody at last night's restaurant thought we were a happily married couple.

She never outright made that point. But it was all in the way she focused her attention on me and oriented herself toward me and touched me as we interacted.

I was sure I was in for the same treatment tonight.