The Venetian Series 04: Where the Bodies are Buried in Venice

Helmut felt somewhat surprised and highly gratified that Rodica was attracted to him. In general, women seemed to like him; apparently cops were considered sexy, and he was physically very fit, a prerequisite for his line of work. But his life was prosaic compared to Rodica's. He wished that he could offer Rodica some sort of creative output of his own. As it stood, he would have to make do with a very serious and sincere appreciation of hers.

After fifteen minutes had gone by, Helmut heard a gentle knock on his door, and he opened it to admit Rodica. She stood in the doorway, smiling up at him. Her short dark hair was partially encased in a brick-red stocking cap. Her black coat was open to reveal a thigh-length turquoise dress, black stockings and knee-high leather boots. She carried a canvas painting bag in her left hand.

Helmut embraced her and kissed her slowly, then led her to the couch, seating himself beside her. "Have you been working on your copy of 'The Punishment of the Forger'?" he asked.

Rodica smiled demurely. "I finish it," she replied, gesturing at her canvas bag. "You want to see?"

"Sure!" said Helmut.

Rodica rose, and withdrew the painting from the bag. Helmut rose as well to examine it. He could not see any change from the last version, but for some time now it had seemed a perfect replica of the original. The dramatic column of white cloud ascended diagonally across the sky toward the right. The blond woman, who must represent something, thought Helmut, crouched with her knee on the back of the muscular but clearly vanquished forger, who writhed helplessly on the ground. The woman's blond hair curled close to her head, and her face bore an expression that was ruthless and stern, yet calm. Her salmon-colored dress and royal blue cape were resplendent in the sunlight.

"It's beautiful, Rodica," said Helmut softly.

Rodica smiled shyly and inclined her head in acknowledgment. She slid the painting back into its case, and stepped toward Helmut to embrace him. He smelled clean and masculine, no aftershave or other sweetish scents, just freshly washed man. She pulled his polo shirt loose in the back, untucking from his jeans, and pushed her hands up inside it, stroking his back with her fingertips.

Rodica whispered in Helmut's ear, "You can still be artist."

Helmut chuckled, putting his hands on her ass and pulling her close. "But the world needs some cops, too." He slid his right hand around to the front of her thigh, dragging the hem of her dress upward, inch by inch, until her blue panties were exposed. He stepped back a little to admire them, then ran his fingertips along the dark stain in the front, finding it slick and slimy with her juices. He caught his breath audibly and pulled her closer again, keeping his hand over the enticing wet spot.

Through the thin fabric he found the taut bulge of her clit, and began to rub his second and third fingers along the sides of it, up and down, up and down. Rodica purred, "Ooh, I think you are an artist now," as her hips began to move, and she reached for the zipper of Helmut's jeans. She pulled it down, undid his belt, and pushed his jeans and underwear to his knees.

Helmut gasped as he felt both her cool, soft hands wrap around his cock, and begin to stroke it slowly and salaciously. Just perceptibly, he increased the pressure of his fingers along the sides of her clit. Through the sodden fabric of her panties, he could feel its hood moving back and forth as he teased it.

The two of them stood there in feverish excitement, fully clothed except for their exposed crotches, and stroking each other slowly into a frenzy of lust. Helmut could not resist the urge to slide his finger under the elastic of her panties and probe deep into her cunt; he brought it out coated with her juices, and thrust it into his mouth, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he did it. He saw her eyes half-close with desire, and he pushed again into her cunt, two fingers this time, before offering them to her own mouth. She sucked them urgently.

"Helmut," she gasped, "do you want to make me have an orgasm?"

"Yes," he hissed in reply.

"Do that some more."

Helmut had grown impatient with her panties, so he pushed them down to her knees. Both of them now stood somewhat awkwardly with their knees constrained, pushing their hips forward to give access to each other's busy hands. Helmut was growing increasing agitated. The slow, maddeningly delicious sensation of Rodica's hands on his cock was bringing him closer and closer to climax. He shoved three fingers up inside Rodica and began to drag his fingertips along her G-spot, causing her to groan in pleasure. The sound excited Helmut, and he increased the intensity of his fingers scraping her rough patch.

"Yes! It is happening now!" cried out Rodica, arching her back and locking her hips in place. Seconds, later, Helmut's cock began to spurt wildly, hitting Rodica's clothing and face. "Helmut, yes!" She aimed his erupting cock toward her mouth, catching what she could. "I like it!", she said, licking the thick semen from her lips, then her hands.

The two of them stood for a moment, trembling and panting. Then, without speaking, they quickly stripped off their clothing and embraced, rubbing their smooth bodies together.

In low, desperate tones, Helmut begged, "Rodica, please suck my cock!"

Helmut's cock was already partially hard again. Rodica sank to her knees and took it into her hungry mouth, and in seconds it was standing at full length, throbbing insistently. Helmut pulled away and lay on the bed.

Rodica knew just what she wanted. She quickly straddled his loins, facing away from him, and mounted his cock. She began to move, tensing the muscles in her ass as she slowly impaled herself again and again on Helmut's long, thick cock. It was scraping her G-spot just the way she loved it - it was perfect. She could feel the tension building in every muscle in her body as she concentrated on driving his cock deep, so deep inside her, feeling the pleasure get more wickedly intense each time she swallowed his tool with her greedy cunt. She began to move faster, dancing on the edge until she felt the wave of her climax about to crash on her, and she howled his name, "Helmut!" just before her entire body was wracked by spasms of pure animal satisfaction.

Quickly, Rodica pulled her cunt free from Helmut's cock, turned around, and hurried to straddle his face. She wanted to excite him, to madden him, and her instincts were unerring. Helmut seized her hips and ate her pussy like a man possessed. He moaned his pleasure, filling the room with the sounds of his hunger as he devoured her steaming cunt, all swollen and overflowing with the juices of her orgasm.

Suddenly, he used his strong hands to lift her off his face and turn her over on to her back. In an instant he was up between her legs, lifting her legs up over his shoulders, then plunged his cock inside her. As Helmut felt his cock passing through the slight resistance of her cunt lips into her gloriously snug channel, it seemed like the most erotic sensation he had ever known, such a perfect fit, and Rodica's motion as she shoved her cunt upwards to meet him was so completely and ecstatically arousing that his mind reeled from the pleasure. He had to feel it again, and again, and the two lovers fucked with white-hot intensity until they came simultaneously.

Afterward, they spent a long time in silence. The rays of the midday sun advanced through the window and played upon their bodies as they lay at odd angles across the bed. At length, Helmut rolled over on his side, leaning on his elbow, and gazed thoughtfully at the canvas bag with Rodica's painting.

He turned to her and said, "It really is beautiful, you know."

Rodica murmured her thanks.

"What will you do now, with your painting?" asked Helmut.

"I think I go in a new direction, Helmut. I think I try to show what is inside people, to show it on their faces."

"Like Rembrandt."

"Yes. Like Rembrandt. It is very hard to do, but I want to do it."

"I think you can do it."

There was a pause, then Rodica asked, "Helmut?"

"Yes?"

"When you are catching financial criminals, you try to find out what is inside them?"

"Yes... I need to think the way they think, to know how I must catch them." Helmut was thinking now of one individual in particular.

Rodica pulled her body close to his. "That is hard to do. Do you think so?"

"Sometimes, it is very hard to do."

"Do you think it is ever possible to know, really know, what is inside another person?"

Helmut thought for a minute. He rolled over to put his face close to hers, and looked long into her eyes. "Yes. Yes, Rodica, I do think so."

To be continued. I wish to express my appreciation for the stalwart editing of the irresistible Legerdemer.