Edda Pt. 01

Well we eventually returned to my flat in my trusty Jimny. On the way we talked about our families and our stories. I had taken the afternoon off to prepare a special meal. I prepared an apricot chicken dish, and somebody had given me an exceptional dessert carrot cake recipe with cream cheese which I baked for after's.

I slipped on a Julian Bream LP for background music. I thought classical guitar would give the right level of unobtrusive background music.

I am not really a wine buff but I showed off a bit. I had managed to obtain a bottle of Martinborough Pinot noir, which was new at the time and a Hawkes Bay Cab Sav. I had already figured from my first disastrous date that she had European sophisticated taste. I could not compete with that so I did local and trendy.

Edda actually apologized for her own behavior at the concert. She actually indulged in some happy weed, as she called it, and maybe she was thinking she would spice things up and make me jealous.

"Well that back fired," I said with a smile.

"I don't know," replied Edda "everything is alright now, I think."

And it was all going well.

We got on to my favorite topic, Architecture. I discovered as well as her architectural family background she had been majoring in art history. She was very well informed and eloquent on her views on architecture. Despite her earlier rant, her approach was philosophical and even talking about practicalities was more European in sensibility than is usual in a frontier society like New Zealand.

Well, a little more wine and my mouth was carrying me away. That is until she dropped her top exposing two delightful breasts. 'Fuck! She hasn't been wearing a bra and I completely missed it' flashed across my mind. Well her nipples might as well have been headlights and my eyes might as well have belonged to a possum's. I eventually moved my gaze to her eyes which were hooded and quietly staring back, those full lips of hers gave just a hint of a smile. I became intently conscious of her perfume. She reached over to my hand and somehow we slid off our chairs onto the carpet.

We found ourselves in warm or should I say hot passionate embrace. While wet French kissing, my hands were caressing her as I attempted to lift her skirt. I could feel her pushing her body into my now rigid erection, her leg working up my side. I turned her slightly, enabling a hand to reach up her skirt and down her panties. I felt the elastic go as my hand cupped her thick wiry mons. Her bush was tightly knotted like it was clasped with Velcro; her thick hair resisting my fingers until two broke through finding the warm, wet and fleshy interior.

My penis made an involuntary lurch. My two fingers just fell into her vagina which I discovered was exceptionally juicy in contrast to her dry bush. I hooked my fingers and dragged her juice back along her vulva paring back and unzipping her bush until I settled on her clit. I could feel the nub stiffening as I massaged it back and forth.

Edda was breathing deeply beside my ear gasping intermittently. Slipping my hand back into her now gelatinous tepid vulva, her gates were now truly open. My feelings were more than lust. It seemed I was giving my whole body and mind over to Edda.

A cynic might say it was just a relief from my extended period of 'monkdom.' But to me I honestly thought that those gates were also my gates of destiny. From that time it seemed I had changed. I had thought of myself as scientific and not so much a spiritual guy, but after that night I started feeling there was some mystical ink between myself and Edda that was somehow transcendental. I can't explain it, except to say I now know why they write those cheesy love songs and trashy romance novels.

Eventually I found myself on my back with Edda astride above me. She had lifted her skirt and was grinding herself onto my erection; her hips humping back and forth. Edda was a very juicy girl and her soaking panties were beginning to soak the front of my cords. I grabbed her and pulled her down then we rolled awkwardly over until I was between her legs. I managed to free willy and pulling her panties aside we fucked fully clothed, her legs tightly enveloping my body missionary style. The passion was intense we had both climaxed without taking the time to undress.

I think this must be the most erotic fuck of my life, the memory of which I have masturbated on many times. I guess for me there was the2 year abstinence but there was also the sexual tension that had been building since the first time she spoke to me at varsity.

The passion did not expend itself on the carpet of my floor; in fact Edda did not leave the flat until 6a.m. on the Monday morning. Sex had been liberal and expansive. She left happily limping and bruised; there seemed to be nothing she would not do within reason. My cock was sore, my tongue was bloody sore, even my anus was sore and my back was covered in scratches, a legacy of those long black painted fingernails. It seemed I had been savagely ravaged by hurricane Edda. She blew me a kiss as she walked away from the Jimny. I called out "well we at least know we are sexually compatible." She cheekily stuck out her tongue in reply.

Both of us had busy weeks and we arranged to go out and do something on the next Friday. The week gave me time to reflect. It was really our first date, I guess; the concert did not count. Wild sex on the first night might spook a few guys. Not me, I hadn't had any for 2 years and boy did I want it. And apparently Edda did as well. I did worry whether she was impulsive in sex. But looking back on it I think it was her way of claiming me. I noticed afterwards whenever we were in public she always stayed in close to me. Often touching, tousling my hair, picking imaginary lint off my clothes and catching my eyes in her glances. I guess she was possessive. She had to let people know I was her guy.

I liked it because I understood. I too was possessive and could get very jealous. I had learnt to control it by internalizing it, learning from my earlier, less than successful relationships. As we became more public in our socializing, I was only too happy to play her game of keeping close; we were always a social team and so we always travelled together. Also I liked to be unpredictable in my habits where they involved her. May be I would just turn up at her flat, or work or her classes. It was something I did from the start and Edda just expected it and enjoyed it.

I have to say that this and other things I would do, were actually little tests. I had an acute fear of her cheating on me. This was because guys were often hitting on her even when I was standing right next to her. My fear was that she would not deliberately cheat but would be seduced. I tried to do it in a way that was respectful to her and I am not sure that Edda ever noticed it. She never ever said anything but I guess a tiny kernel of distrust from that first day at the concert remained with me.

I also made sure I got to know her workmates when she began working. I made a special effort to be on first name basis with her bosses. I backed this up by always taking interest in what she was working on

It was not long before I took her home to meet Mum and Dad. They were both gob smacked at first. I am not sure whether they initially approved but Edda was a sophisticate and a great conversationalist and she certainly won Mum over in short order. Edda was also very attentive of me and my parents seemed to like that.

Dad was not wholly convinced and so I got that song;

If you want to be happy for the rest of your life

Never make a pretty woman your wife...

***********

I was an only child, but Edda had one sister Fenna, a couple of years younger. Edda had arrived from the Netherlands when she was 12 years old. Her father was New Zealand manager for a Dutch firm. Edda's father's name was Jacob and we became quite close in time. Her mother's name was Betje.

They returned to the Netherlands but eventually retired back to New Zealand.

I was proud of my Dutch kiwi. I always thought of Edda as my intellectual superior. She spoke five languages, for god sake. She learnt these before the age of twelve although she continued studying French and Spanish in New Zealand. She also had been learning Maori. I hardly managed English and only had a smattering of rudimentary Maori. Edda liked to show off her language skills from time to time. I guess she liked to rub her more provincial friend's nose in it. It didn't always work for her though.

One night a group of us were in an Italian restaurant. When Edda was entertaining, one of her party tricks was to mimic people. After one Chianti too many, Edda was regaling us noisily with an incident during a visit to Tuscany. This was embellished with a thick Italian accent and finally she babbled something in Italian. Whatever she said, it resulted in a red faced Italian woman getting up from a table nearby. Tipping her chair, she strode across to our table and slapped Edda across the face then turned to us saying in English, "Ask your companion to behave herself, thank you," and stormed off.

Well it was smirks all round except for Edda who just grimaced red faced into her remaining meal. She never would say what she had actually said but was less inclined to do that sort of thing in public after that.

Edda was very European in a conservative urbane way. We shared interest in the arts although her knowledge ran rings around me. Both our tastes in music were catholic from madrigals to David Bowie and Kate bush. Edda always said her special song for me was Kate bush's 'Man with a child in his eyes.' It would always render her silent and contemplative. I used to wonder who or what she was really thinking about when she played that.

We also both played; me Jazz piano, she cello. She sang in a choir. We jammed a bit but it was never going to be a career for either of us. Time was pretty full especially around study. We both loved to dance. Following the seventies disco was big; we would teach each other our special moves; copy one another; turn around; man, her rhythm was good.

We used it mix it up with a bit of rock'n'roll, swing whatever. I remember after we were married we were at Fenna's engagement party and somebody put on 'Simply irresistible' by Robert Palmer. That became my song for Edda. Well, we got up first. Nobody else got up, they were all watching us. Finally we had to wave at them to get up and they all started clapping.

Sporting wise Edda enjoyed snowboarding and even rock climbing. I was never great at either but we both shared a love of the mountains and Edda grew to share my love of the bush.

Edda studied art history and anthropology at varsity but I always felt that she undercooked herself academically. She did end up with Masters but elected to work in marketing and promotion. She would have done better to get an MBA I thought, but initially at least, she seemed to be happy.

Edda could be formidable. I wondered whether I could measure up. I remember a night that was very telling. I was left, after this particular night, understanding both the responsibility and challenge it would be as Edda's partner. Edda and I had just been engaged when were invited to a cocktail party given by the Dutch Ambassador. Edda's mother, Betje worked at the Embassy and the ambassador and his wife were persona l friends.

Edda looked immeasurably fabulous. She was dressed in a long black cocktail dress. It was slightly retro with a curving slit up the side from her ankle. Her blonde hair was conservatively tightly tied back with a hair brooch. In deference to her adopted country she had a silver fern broach pinned to her bodice but otherwise the effect was 'less is more.' She had no tiara but she looked the princess. She would have given Grace Kelly a run for her money.

Edda and I were chatting with a friend, Case, under the mezzanine of the function room. Case was a kiwi of Dutch parentage. After a while Edda moved off on her social round leaving Case with me.

Case had known Edda since her family had arrived from the Netherlands. He nudged me saying, "Shit you are one lucky guy. I have lusted after her for years."

"You have never made a move on her?" said I.

"Of course I have, but she brushed me off saying a relationship with me would be like incest."

"Anyway," he continued, "that woman is going to be a something. I really am not in her league. If I managed to bonk her, all I would get out of it was being able to tell my grandkids that I once bonked that famous lady."

I was a bit worried with that statement, "what makes you think I'm in her league."

Case said, "If anyone is, you would be, you've got her energy and her drive. You can keep up with her. You are both workaholics. If you two collaborate you would rule the world."

"As long as we collaborate and not compete I suppose." I ventured. It was a glib remark that would eventually haunt me.

"She knows where she is going, that gal. You're obviously on the same step on the ladder; you better make sure you are with her on all her steps."

Case liked coming up with sage advice. I guess it was his story that he never took any of his own. None the less, that statement was probably more profound than either of us took at that time.

"Anyway," says Case, "you will have your work cut out for you. You watch her with the guys around here."

Now Edda was not a flirt as a rule. But she did attract guys. As soon as Case had said that, a well-known, up and coming star from the British high Commission moved in and was hovering around her. He was obviously trying to move her to a position where they could have a one on one; didn't work.

Edda deftly roped in another couple in conversation, introduced him, and then quietly took leave.

Case turned to me. "Did you see that, Edda flicked him off? There isn't another Woman in the room that would do that to that jerk."

It was a matter of seconds before another rather potential beau moved in. This was a rather tall and good looking guy. Case looked at me, "worried?"

"We'll see," says I.

They seemed to be in intense conversation; He, moving his head into her personal space. She slightly jerking back each time he tried. Edda gestures me over. I leave Case and sidle over thinking this could be fun.

"Martin, I would like you to meet Robert. Robert, this is my fiancé Martin."

Now Robert did not seem to understand the word fiancé and continued his chat up line, Edda cutting him off. "Robert was just telling me his family is one of the richest in New Zealand. He has been telling me about his family's house on Wakaya Island in Fiji. He wants me to come and stay."

Robert was looking rather bereft and embarrassed.

"I take it the invitation goes to Martin as well?" Edda rubs salt into it.

Standing nearby is a French woman. Edda touches her arm, has a short chat in French, and turns back to Robert. You were telling me about your time in France. This is Jacqueline, I am sure she would be interested in your visit.

Robert was briefly distracted, mumbled a bit to Jacqueline then rudely tried to resuscitate his pursuit of Edda. She, now exasperated, just said "Martin here is an Architect. With your family's development interests you might be interested in some of his work... Oh there is Jocelyn, could you excuse me." Edda left, leaving me to finish off Robert while she spoke to Jocelyn.

Robert still seemed to be oblivious that Edda was my fiancé.

"How do you go about impressing a woman like that?" He said rhetorically. I decided to answer anyway.

"Well she is interested in learning Maori at the moment. If you are interested in that, there is a way in." I had the measure of the type of guy and I knew my comment would expose him.

"Who do they think they are these foreigners who come here and interfere....?"

"Listen Robert, I don't want to hear this crap."

"Oh, you are the Architect," he replied angrily, "is this how you woo clients?"

"And you are the dumb arse," I replied. "I have morals and choose my clients accordingly."

"And by the way," I ended, "When you get home, look up fiancé in the dictionary...if you have one."

I stalked off to find Edda.

Edda's parents seem to like me. Her father admired his brother's reputation as an architect back home and took an interest in what I was doing. Edda's parents took to me in as a natural extension of their own family and were always very welcoming and supportive of Edda and me. Although I travelled to the Netherlands with Edda once and met many of her relations, to my regret I did not get to meet her uncle Pieter although I knew he had undertaken some prestigious architectural commissions and I did see published material of his work.

Edda and I married in short order. It was not a huge crass wedding but small and secular. You know, a few friends and relations, drinkies in the park with a string quartet followed by dinner in an absurdly expensive restaurant.

Our first child was actually an accident. Willem was born just after Edda received her bachelors. It was four years before we had Henneke.

I was lecturing at varsity but also a partner in a small bespoke architectural practice. I had been pondering a doctorate but married life obviated that. I used the practice to chase competitions. I aspired to win international competitions. We had a little success locally, but as we had to partner larger firms and there was not a lot of return in it. Often our schemes were regarded as academic and esoteric but we got publicity out of it and I wrote papers on the theory.

Edda was juggling parenthood with promotional work. I am not sure the work was stimulating her mentally. Edda was ambitious. She needed something meaty. She enjoyed promoting the arts and had aspirations of something international. As time went on I did notice a little frustration. She seemed a little envious of my work. Initially we discussed my work a lot. She would even drop by the office. She was dabbling in her own artwork and would come in use it as her studio. We never quite got together on it and eventually the children got in the way and she stopped coming. I was absorbed in my own work and I know now, I should have been a lot more supportive of her.

Our sex life had always been very liberal and very passionate from the very start. When I first started going out with Edda she showed herself to be very experienced and not shy. I don't think you would have called her promiscuous but she had liked to experiment so our early days were intense and delightful.

Following the failed date at the concert I made it very plain that I expected our relationship to be exclusive. I did not like games. I was in the late twenties at this stage and I had already been around the traps when I was younger and I was looking for a permanent relationship. In our early days, you might say, I had Edda on a short leash to manage my own internal jealousy.

After a number of years of married life my trust overcame that first incident at the concert and I became less wary. I did involve myself with Edda's working life but it was more out of respect than jealousy, Of course there are limits and you cannot be with your wife 24 hours of the day. I would not say I took her for granted but I developed a complete trust in her judgement. On her part, her habit of claiming me in public, keeping close and touching me remained.

Love making around children is always difficult and our respective Mothers were collectively of great help. They would take Willem and Henneke so that we could have our special nights along with our social commitments.

We remained quite inventive in lovemaking. Before we married we enjoyed getting outdoors from time to time. At varsity Edda had joined the mountain club and as well as Snowboarding, did a reasonable amount of rock climbing. I was not so much a high country man but we both enjoyed bush walking and especially making love deep in the wilderness.