I'm sorry for the LONG wait, my life is just soooo interesting. There's
some hot ass guys in this world. HOT ASS GUYS!!!
Well, I made this chapter super interesting, SUPER HOT!
So, for the poll.
Who's the hottest guy in the world?
Josh Hartnett, he's so dreamy
George Clooney, I always had a thing for older men
Brad Pitt, there's something about men that don't like to take showers
Eminem, I'm sorry mama, but I'm in a good relationship with trailer trash
Arnold, because----just because
Chapter 5
"The firm called," Noah said, coming out of the bathroom dressed in a towel.
Helga looked up at his masculine body and admired it.
"They said I would have to work from here tomorrow," he continued, "looks like a whole day on the phone without even an occasional break. I'll have to check out of our plans for tomorrow."
"That's too bad, I was thinking we could go to the museum in the morning, and then to the theater at night."
"I'll be busy all day, I'm sorry," he said, "but I hope you could find yourself occupied."
"I'll try," she smiled, "But I can't say it's going to be easy."
She placed diamond earrings through the holes of her flesh, and gazed at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair. It was about the length of her ears, somewhat quirky and upbeat, while simultaneously sophisticated. She was a real woman now, a real woman. No longer a girl, Helga had to look forward to her thirtieth birthday, she would be fully grown soon, and never again disregarded for her youth. The valley of the twenties truly was a reprieve to the audacity of Mother thirty.
She studied herself in the mirror, a black dress, oblique against her white skin, a thin layer of lipstick, heavily lined blue eyes, high cheekbones. She looked truly professional, truly classic, but not beautiful. Noah, of course, saw someone else.
In his eyes, Helga was extraordinary, a glorious culmination of everything a real woman needed to be well rounded. The way her thin, feeble body moved made his blood rush, her thin, flailing, bare arms, her beautiful long legs. She was taller than he was, her bosom slightly curving up, with large nipples penetrating through eternally. From there, she moved down to a flat stomach, and farther to a slightly rounded, though not perfectly shaped bottom. Of course, he legs made up for the rest. He loved them, wrapped around his frame, like two glamorous reminders of what was truly beautiful in life.
Noah placed his hand around her waist and smelled the perfume on her neck, as the couple gazed deeply into the mirror. Helga breathed in deeply, feeling aroused by his own scent, and their senses mingled against one another. The palely illuminated atmosphere of the room served as a natural aphrodisiac, and the quiet jazzy music from the radio gently skylarked throughout, making the couple even more aware of the faculties their lover possessed.
"You look beautiful tonight," Noah whispered, kissing Helga's porcelain skin, his hot breath tingled against the surface of her neck, her nipples hardened, and the muscles in her upper thighs began to flex. She inhaled deeply and loudly exhaled, closing her eyes, feeling goosebumps rush over her body. His grip tightened around her waist, digging through the thin, silky fabric of her dress. Her lips let out a quiet moan and she smiled, looking at Noah in the mirror. He did too, and they shared a quiet, though momentary, peace.
"Thank you," she at last responded, "you look beautiful too."
His eyes flickered in the darkness, and he had to himself a look of someone who was not Noah, someone else. But she didn't know whom. And, quite frankly, she didn't care.
And then they made love.
Roxette was a supermodel. She was of a foreign descent with long, dark hair, and a tall, thin, yet glorious body. She was dressed in a red little "number," and looked very well plastered to Arnold's arm. She had long bothered that he took her out because, to her, their relationship consisted of something more than fucking on the weekends. As a matter of fact, she even bought him cologne on their "one month anniversary," which, of course, he had completely forgotten. But tonight she was with him, not because he wanted to make it up to her, but because he figured having a Tahitian beauty by his side would impress the interesting man whom he had met the day before.
"This seems pleasant," Roxy said as they stood outside of the hotel restaurant, holding hands, without realizing that Arnold was ignoring her, "we should do this more often."
He did not reply.
She searched him with her dark eyes, innocent and fluttered with briskly eyelashes, "shouldn't we?"
"Oh yes of course," he vaguely replied.
She sighed sadly, "yes."
He looked over at her pouted face, bringing her closer to him, and slipping his hand dangerously close to the inclination between her legs. She giggled quietly and her visage brightened. Arnold suddenly felt impatient, he no longer cared where Noah was, as a matter of fact, he no longer wanted Noah to be there at all. He was ready to leave, to take the little fox next to him, throw her on the bed and have his way with her in the most rough way imaginable when suddenly, hell froze over and he met familiar blue eyes.
She looked healthy and balanced, no longer pale, no longer diluted. He noticed her first, Helga, that same woman whom he had hated all these months, the same woman who had said good-bye to him coldly and relentlessly. She was right there, right there! Inside of the hotel lobby, heading towards him. She saw him too, and she looked faint, and he knew that she had felt the same way that he had. It took him a while to gather, however, that she had someone by her side, and that someone was the very Noah he had just been dying to desert.
England, yes, England. She said she was going there, didn't she? And now she had come back, with the only person Arnold had ever known to be of Britain's descent. Life suddenly felt like a crude passel of overrated cliches. And he wanted her again, he wanted her with a burning, beastly passion. Even as she walked his way, he was ready to steal her away from this world, and his fists stiffened. He remembered who walked by her side. But he didn't care. He wanted her, and he was going to have her, even if it cost him (and her) everything. He didn't care one bit.
"I see someone I know," Noah said with a smile, not noticing that Helga had begun to shake.
"That's him?' said she, "that's the man that you said we must dine with?"
"That's right," Noah replied, "he looks like a kind chap, doesn't he? And the girl he's with, congratulations."
Helga wanted to fall, but she had to stand erect. She promised herself that she would never see him again. She had also promised herself that she would hate him forever and ever only a year ago. But she broke that promise soon enough.
"Are you alright darling?" Noah said, noticing but miscomprehending her distress. She was suddenly annoyed. She suddenly wished she wasn't here, she suddenly wished she wasn't with him.
"I'm fine," she said, breathing heavily. He accepted it at that.
"Hello," Arnold said, as the couple approached. He did not take his eyes off of Helga.
"I am glad you could make it," Noah replied, "let me introduce you to Helga."
"Nice to meet you," Arnold extended his hand.
She reluctantly met it, the warmth of their fleshes made both sides ache within.
Roxette nudged Arnold. He barely noticed it. She nudged him harder, and the two hands separated.
"Who is this lovely lady?" Noah asked.
"What?" Arnold asked.
"This lady standing next to you."
Arnold had to look around before remembering that, indeed, there was a lady there.
"This is Roxette."
"Well, the two of you make a lovely couple," Noah smiled, "Don't they, darling?" he directed at Helga.
"Lovely," she said, holding back the expression on her face that began to form.
The night raged on.
Noah kept talking, with Roxette occasionally filling in the blanks. Arnold and Helga sat opposite of one another, not daring to look up for fear of meeting exasperated eyes. It was quiet and simple in their own world, although all around chaos prevailed. It was as if a glass bubble formed around them.
Fast jazz began to play.
"I want to dance," Noah and Roxette said simultaneously. They looked at their partners.
"No," Arnold and Helga replied.
"Then dance with me, Roxette," Noah pleaded, "if it's all right with your dashing protégé, that is."
"Oh, is it, Arnold, is it?" she pleaded like a little girl.
He looked across the table at Helga, who sat timid in her little corner, "If it's alright with your own date."
"Is it alright with you, darling?" Noah asked.
She didn't want him to leave her alone with Arnold, then again, it wasn't like she was going to say no.
The two scurried away leaving the strenuous atmosphere behind. Arnold began fidgeting with the napkin while Helga stared calmly with a fixated glance into her lap. The music played around them, but they did not notice it, they didn't notice anything but each other, no matter how hard they tried not to.
"So, you haven't been wasting any time," Arnold at last broke the silence. She looked up, and for the first time, their gazes collided.
"Neither have you," Helga quietly replied.
"How long have the two of you been together?"
"Eight months," she replied.
Arnold groaned, "And you haven't once reconsidered it?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she almost screamed, but limited her tone to a red indignation.
"I don't know, it must get kind of hard fucking a dickless guy."
She looked at him with rage, "What can I say? I have a history of those."
"Really? How many have you had in your life? One? Two? I'm talking about the guys in general, not just the minimally endowed ones."
She wanted to throw a drink at him, but she only exacted a cold glance. Somehow, she could not find her tongue. She had nothing to say, she felt humiliated and lost, she felt like crying, she felt like---something. But she quickly tried to banish it from her mind.
Thankfully, the dirty thoughts were interrupted by the return of Noah and Roxette.
"Have you had fun?" Arnold asked.
"Lots of fun," Roxette exclaimed.
"We did too," Arnold smiled, an insincere smile, but no one noticed its true nature except for Helga.
"Really?" Noah asked, "Have you found something to talk about?"
"Yes we have!" Arnold assured him, "we had a very passionate discourse, a very---provocative one."
"Really?" Noah continued.
"Yes," Arnold smiled again, "as a matter of fact we would love to continue it tomorrow, at lunch, perhaps?"
"I'm busy tomorrow," Helga said.
"No you are not!" Noah smiled.
"Yes I am."
"Come on Helga, did you forget? I'm working all day tomorrow, and you said yourself you had nothing to do."
"I never said that!" she exclaimed, "I have plenty to do tomorrow."
"Whatever you say, then," Noah gave up, feeling confused.
"Well," Arnold remarked, "In that case, let's continue our conversation right now, shall we?"
"Oh, I'd love to hear it!" Roxette cooed.
"Yes, do tell," Noah supported him.
"Me and Helga, we go way back."
Her eyes widened, what was he doing?
"Oh really?" Noah smiled, "what do you mean?"
"You know how she used to live here and all, well, I've known her since we were children."
"Oh why didn't you tell us right away?" Noah laughed. Helga suddenly felt hostility towards both men at the table, one for being malicious, and another for being so damn naïve.
"Well, we haven't seen one another for a while now," Arnold smiled, "For one whole year. But let me tell you something interesting that happened to us a year ago. You see, Helga was involved in some legal problems, and I was one of the main people against her. Who would have though that we would fall in---"
"Into a friendship," she quickly supplied the words for him.
"Yes," he said, "into a friendship, a very strong and intimate friendship."
His words tore her apart.
"I'm not feeling so well," Helga got up from her seat, "Noah, can we please go?"
He looked at her with alarm, "But why? The night is still so young."
"Yes, it is young indeed," Arnold smiled with malice, "And I haven't finished our story yet."
"We'll finish it tomorrow, at lunch," she forced the phrase out of herself with great difficulty.
"It's all right with me," Arnold smiled, "but how about we make it breakfast? Ten o'clock. Do you remember that little restaurant, right near where I live? You must remember where I live."
"I think I do, the one that serves expensive champagne."
"Yes," Arnold smiled, "because there's nothing better than Champagne in the morning."
"Yes," she said weakly, her complexion turning pale, "Good night."
Noah bid his farewells and escorted his lady out of the restaurant. On their way out, Helga turned her head. Arnold's gaze did not leave her frame until it disappeared from sight.
She was late, as a matter of fact, she didn't want to be there at all. He was already at a table, and he waited for her patiently. She slowly made her way through the room and plopped down into a chair.
"I'm glad you could make it," he said with fake politeness.
She looked at him with hate, "I'm not."
"Too bad," he smiled, "if you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering for you."
"Will you be taking the liberty of paying too?"
"I don't know," he continued, "Are we on a date?"
Helga did not reply, she stared out the window.
"Will this be a one-sided conversation then?"
Another moment of silence, and then she spoke, "Why am I here?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"It was all dead a year ago, you don't need to bring it up anymore. I'm living my own life and you're living yours, I don't see why---" she paused.
"Why what?" he smiled smugly.
"Why you have to hurt me again?"
There was silence for a moment, "I hurt you?" he said with a laugh.
"You sadistic bastard," she exclaimed, gathering her things.
"Wow, Helga you really hate me."
She fixated on him, "yes, I do hate you. Haven't you noticed?"
"Did it ever occur to you that's why you're here? We ended on a bad note, I wanted to make it all good again."
"You fucking liar," she said, her face in disgust. But she wasn't moving anymore. Somethng about his face made her stop. Something about his face, and something about her heart. Something that she felt, that she still fucking felt!
"You're right," he smiled, "I might as well admit it. Flattery never works well with unsentimental women like you."
She suddenly began to remember.
She remembered a small, football headed boy with a lopsided grin.
She remembered running through a flowery field in her imagination, with his hand in hers.
She remembered lying on her bed with a little notebook of poetry, scribbling nuances of her passionate love.
She remembered his closed eyes, when she kissed him for the first time during that play.
She remembered the way he looked on that Valentine's night, when he said that he had liked her---the hidden her---and the way that she sighed.
And then she remmebered how he said that he loved her, how he asked her to marry him, not so long ago, not anymore. What could really have changed about a man in so many years? What did it matter? Somewhere, deep inside, the Arnold she once loved might still have been alive, and that fixated her in one place. She suddenly forgot about reality, she forgot about Noah, she forgot about everything. Only he was in existence. This cruel, cold, melancholy men who still held a special, hidden place inside of her too- often-glued-together heart.
"So tell me the truth then," said she, nervously, quietly, with great difficulty.
"I want to fuck you, Helga," he replied. And she realized that she wanted to fuck him too.
Helga stared blankly at Arnold, not saying a word.
He took it as a cue.
"Check!" He exclaimed.
The door slammed behind them, and Helga was thrown on the bed, as Arnold jumped on top. Violently, madly he rippied off her clothing, licking, tugging, divulging her skin like a mad beast. And soon, he was nude as well, his muscular body against hers in a warm and steamy sensation. They looked at one another with lewd, dirty smiles, and he let himself enter her.
She threw her head back, opening her mouth wide, and closing her eyes. It never felt like this with Noah. She had forgotten what it meant to make love to an experienced lover. No, not to make love. Not even to have sex. To fuck, that's right, to fuck.
He drove it in and out, she held on relentlessly to the sheets. He pushed her neck against the pillow, she groaned in pleasure. Soon, Helga's nails dug into the muscular flesh on his back, as his hands fondled her forehead, before moving down to her lips and sliding a finger inside. She sucked on it, feelign him roaming within, closing tightly her eyes, feeling like a tigress tormented by love. He dug his fingers into her hair, sweat, heat, moaning, pain, pleasure, so dirty, so wrong, so hard---so good!!
She screamed, and he laughed, "oh you like that?" She did. She opened her mouth, he fed roughly on it. Their lips mingled, their tongues fondled against one another, soft warm feeling of his saliva, the smooth odor of her skin. It all combined to form the epithomy of sensuality. Her face, her cold eyes, her movements. His own thrusting vibrations.
Her legs were spread wide apart, they were frantically digging into the air, the sensation of his muscular thighs withing hers, moving, dancing, thrusting, exploding!! And then she orgazmed. He climaxed immediately afterward. Two explosions that shook the world. And then they fell apart to opposite sides of the bed, breathing heavily, gathering themselves.
Before long, he was on top of her again, kissing her lips, pressing his chest against her soft, bare breasts, digging into her hard nipples, "does he make you feel like this?" he whispered into her ear. It sent a rush down her body, she wanted him to make love to her again.
"No," she whispered, "only you can."
"That's the right answer," he smiled, she closed her eyes, his hands went over her cheeks. She felt flustered, she felt hot, and sore, humiliated, and yet completely satisfied.
"Do that again," she said, feeling her velvety delta becoming moist yet again at the thought of his closeness.
"My little whore," he smiled and honored her request three more times on that very same day.
It was ten o'clock on the hotel clock. Noah sat in his pajamas under the sheets of the bed, staring into the laptop, working some figures. The room was dimly lit, and he yawned, knowing that he would need to go to sleep soon. He wondered where Helga was for a moment, but soon concluded that the play was probably a late one. He didn't worry at all as he extinguished the light and closed his eyes, quickly falling into slumber.
Well, I made this chapter super interesting, SUPER HOT!
So, for the poll.
Who's the hottest guy in the world?
Josh Hartnett, he's so dreamy
George Clooney, I always had a thing for older men
Brad Pitt, there's something about men that don't like to take showers
Eminem, I'm sorry mama, but I'm in a good relationship with trailer trash
Arnold, because----just because
Chapter 5
"The firm called," Noah said, coming out of the bathroom dressed in a towel.
Helga looked up at his masculine body and admired it.
"They said I would have to work from here tomorrow," he continued, "looks like a whole day on the phone without even an occasional break. I'll have to check out of our plans for tomorrow."
"That's too bad, I was thinking we could go to the museum in the morning, and then to the theater at night."
"I'll be busy all day, I'm sorry," he said, "but I hope you could find yourself occupied."
"I'll try," she smiled, "But I can't say it's going to be easy."
She placed diamond earrings through the holes of her flesh, and gazed at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair. It was about the length of her ears, somewhat quirky and upbeat, while simultaneously sophisticated. She was a real woman now, a real woman. No longer a girl, Helga had to look forward to her thirtieth birthday, she would be fully grown soon, and never again disregarded for her youth. The valley of the twenties truly was a reprieve to the audacity of Mother thirty.
She studied herself in the mirror, a black dress, oblique against her white skin, a thin layer of lipstick, heavily lined blue eyes, high cheekbones. She looked truly professional, truly classic, but not beautiful. Noah, of course, saw someone else.
In his eyes, Helga was extraordinary, a glorious culmination of everything a real woman needed to be well rounded. The way her thin, feeble body moved made his blood rush, her thin, flailing, bare arms, her beautiful long legs. She was taller than he was, her bosom slightly curving up, with large nipples penetrating through eternally. From there, she moved down to a flat stomach, and farther to a slightly rounded, though not perfectly shaped bottom. Of course, he legs made up for the rest. He loved them, wrapped around his frame, like two glamorous reminders of what was truly beautiful in life.
Noah placed his hand around her waist and smelled the perfume on her neck, as the couple gazed deeply into the mirror. Helga breathed in deeply, feeling aroused by his own scent, and their senses mingled against one another. The palely illuminated atmosphere of the room served as a natural aphrodisiac, and the quiet jazzy music from the radio gently skylarked throughout, making the couple even more aware of the faculties their lover possessed.
"You look beautiful tonight," Noah whispered, kissing Helga's porcelain skin, his hot breath tingled against the surface of her neck, her nipples hardened, and the muscles in her upper thighs began to flex. She inhaled deeply and loudly exhaled, closing her eyes, feeling goosebumps rush over her body. His grip tightened around her waist, digging through the thin, silky fabric of her dress. Her lips let out a quiet moan and she smiled, looking at Noah in the mirror. He did too, and they shared a quiet, though momentary, peace.
"Thank you," she at last responded, "you look beautiful too."
His eyes flickered in the darkness, and he had to himself a look of someone who was not Noah, someone else. But she didn't know whom. And, quite frankly, she didn't care.
And then they made love.
Roxette was a supermodel. She was of a foreign descent with long, dark hair, and a tall, thin, yet glorious body. She was dressed in a red little "number," and looked very well plastered to Arnold's arm. She had long bothered that he took her out because, to her, their relationship consisted of something more than fucking on the weekends. As a matter of fact, she even bought him cologne on their "one month anniversary," which, of course, he had completely forgotten. But tonight she was with him, not because he wanted to make it up to her, but because he figured having a Tahitian beauty by his side would impress the interesting man whom he had met the day before.
"This seems pleasant," Roxy said as they stood outside of the hotel restaurant, holding hands, without realizing that Arnold was ignoring her, "we should do this more often."
He did not reply.
She searched him with her dark eyes, innocent and fluttered with briskly eyelashes, "shouldn't we?"
"Oh yes of course," he vaguely replied.
She sighed sadly, "yes."
He looked over at her pouted face, bringing her closer to him, and slipping his hand dangerously close to the inclination between her legs. She giggled quietly and her visage brightened. Arnold suddenly felt impatient, he no longer cared where Noah was, as a matter of fact, he no longer wanted Noah to be there at all. He was ready to leave, to take the little fox next to him, throw her on the bed and have his way with her in the most rough way imaginable when suddenly, hell froze over and he met familiar blue eyes.
She looked healthy and balanced, no longer pale, no longer diluted. He noticed her first, Helga, that same woman whom he had hated all these months, the same woman who had said good-bye to him coldly and relentlessly. She was right there, right there! Inside of the hotel lobby, heading towards him. She saw him too, and she looked faint, and he knew that she had felt the same way that he had. It took him a while to gather, however, that she had someone by her side, and that someone was the very Noah he had just been dying to desert.
England, yes, England. She said she was going there, didn't she? And now she had come back, with the only person Arnold had ever known to be of Britain's descent. Life suddenly felt like a crude passel of overrated cliches. And he wanted her again, he wanted her with a burning, beastly passion. Even as she walked his way, he was ready to steal her away from this world, and his fists stiffened. He remembered who walked by her side. But he didn't care. He wanted her, and he was going to have her, even if it cost him (and her) everything. He didn't care one bit.
"I see someone I know," Noah said with a smile, not noticing that Helga had begun to shake.
"That's him?' said she, "that's the man that you said we must dine with?"
"That's right," Noah replied, "he looks like a kind chap, doesn't he? And the girl he's with, congratulations."
Helga wanted to fall, but she had to stand erect. She promised herself that she would never see him again. She had also promised herself that she would hate him forever and ever only a year ago. But she broke that promise soon enough.
"Are you alright darling?" Noah said, noticing but miscomprehending her distress. She was suddenly annoyed. She suddenly wished she wasn't here, she suddenly wished she wasn't with him.
"I'm fine," she said, breathing heavily. He accepted it at that.
"Hello," Arnold said, as the couple approached. He did not take his eyes off of Helga.
"I am glad you could make it," Noah replied, "let me introduce you to Helga."
"Nice to meet you," Arnold extended his hand.
She reluctantly met it, the warmth of their fleshes made both sides ache within.
Roxette nudged Arnold. He barely noticed it. She nudged him harder, and the two hands separated.
"Who is this lovely lady?" Noah asked.
"What?" Arnold asked.
"This lady standing next to you."
Arnold had to look around before remembering that, indeed, there was a lady there.
"This is Roxette."
"Well, the two of you make a lovely couple," Noah smiled, "Don't they, darling?" he directed at Helga.
"Lovely," she said, holding back the expression on her face that began to form.
The night raged on.
Noah kept talking, with Roxette occasionally filling in the blanks. Arnold and Helga sat opposite of one another, not daring to look up for fear of meeting exasperated eyes. It was quiet and simple in their own world, although all around chaos prevailed. It was as if a glass bubble formed around them.
Fast jazz began to play.
"I want to dance," Noah and Roxette said simultaneously. They looked at their partners.
"No," Arnold and Helga replied.
"Then dance with me, Roxette," Noah pleaded, "if it's all right with your dashing protégé, that is."
"Oh, is it, Arnold, is it?" she pleaded like a little girl.
He looked across the table at Helga, who sat timid in her little corner, "If it's alright with your own date."
"Is it alright with you, darling?" Noah asked.
She didn't want him to leave her alone with Arnold, then again, it wasn't like she was going to say no.
The two scurried away leaving the strenuous atmosphere behind. Arnold began fidgeting with the napkin while Helga stared calmly with a fixated glance into her lap. The music played around them, but they did not notice it, they didn't notice anything but each other, no matter how hard they tried not to.
"So, you haven't been wasting any time," Arnold at last broke the silence. She looked up, and for the first time, their gazes collided.
"Neither have you," Helga quietly replied.
"How long have the two of you been together?"
"Eight months," she replied.
Arnold groaned, "And you haven't once reconsidered it?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she almost screamed, but limited her tone to a red indignation.
"I don't know, it must get kind of hard fucking a dickless guy."
She looked at him with rage, "What can I say? I have a history of those."
"Really? How many have you had in your life? One? Two? I'm talking about the guys in general, not just the minimally endowed ones."
She wanted to throw a drink at him, but she only exacted a cold glance. Somehow, she could not find her tongue. She had nothing to say, she felt humiliated and lost, she felt like crying, she felt like---something. But she quickly tried to banish it from her mind.
Thankfully, the dirty thoughts were interrupted by the return of Noah and Roxette.
"Have you had fun?" Arnold asked.
"Lots of fun," Roxette exclaimed.
"We did too," Arnold smiled, an insincere smile, but no one noticed its true nature except for Helga.
"Really?" Noah asked, "Have you found something to talk about?"
"Yes we have!" Arnold assured him, "we had a very passionate discourse, a very---provocative one."
"Really?" Noah continued.
"Yes," Arnold smiled again, "as a matter of fact we would love to continue it tomorrow, at lunch, perhaps?"
"I'm busy tomorrow," Helga said.
"No you are not!" Noah smiled.
"Yes I am."
"Come on Helga, did you forget? I'm working all day tomorrow, and you said yourself you had nothing to do."
"I never said that!" she exclaimed, "I have plenty to do tomorrow."
"Whatever you say, then," Noah gave up, feeling confused.
"Well," Arnold remarked, "In that case, let's continue our conversation right now, shall we?"
"Oh, I'd love to hear it!" Roxette cooed.
"Yes, do tell," Noah supported him.
"Me and Helga, we go way back."
Her eyes widened, what was he doing?
"Oh really?" Noah smiled, "what do you mean?"
"You know how she used to live here and all, well, I've known her since we were children."
"Oh why didn't you tell us right away?" Noah laughed. Helga suddenly felt hostility towards both men at the table, one for being malicious, and another for being so damn naïve.
"Well, we haven't seen one another for a while now," Arnold smiled, "For one whole year. But let me tell you something interesting that happened to us a year ago. You see, Helga was involved in some legal problems, and I was one of the main people against her. Who would have though that we would fall in---"
"Into a friendship," she quickly supplied the words for him.
"Yes," he said, "into a friendship, a very strong and intimate friendship."
His words tore her apart.
"I'm not feeling so well," Helga got up from her seat, "Noah, can we please go?"
He looked at her with alarm, "But why? The night is still so young."
"Yes, it is young indeed," Arnold smiled with malice, "And I haven't finished our story yet."
"We'll finish it tomorrow, at lunch," she forced the phrase out of herself with great difficulty.
"It's all right with me," Arnold smiled, "but how about we make it breakfast? Ten o'clock. Do you remember that little restaurant, right near where I live? You must remember where I live."
"I think I do, the one that serves expensive champagne."
"Yes," Arnold smiled, "because there's nothing better than Champagne in the morning."
"Yes," she said weakly, her complexion turning pale, "Good night."
Noah bid his farewells and escorted his lady out of the restaurant. On their way out, Helga turned her head. Arnold's gaze did not leave her frame until it disappeared from sight.
She was late, as a matter of fact, she didn't want to be there at all. He was already at a table, and he waited for her patiently. She slowly made her way through the room and plopped down into a chair.
"I'm glad you could make it," he said with fake politeness.
She looked at him with hate, "I'm not."
"Too bad," he smiled, "if you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering for you."
"Will you be taking the liberty of paying too?"
"I don't know," he continued, "Are we on a date?"
Helga did not reply, she stared out the window.
"Will this be a one-sided conversation then?"
Another moment of silence, and then she spoke, "Why am I here?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"It was all dead a year ago, you don't need to bring it up anymore. I'm living my own life and you're living yours, I don't see why---" she paused.
"Why what?" he smiled smugly.
"Why you have to hurt me again?"
There was silence for a moment, "I hurt you?" he said with a laugh.
"You sadistic bastard," she exclaimed, gathering her things.
"Wow, Helga you really hate me."
She fixated on him, "yes, I do hate you. Haven't you noticed?"
"Did it ever occur to you that's why you're here? We ended on a bad note, I wanted to make it all good again."
"You fucking liar," she said, her face in disgust. But she wasn't moving anymore. Somethng about his face made her stop. Something about his face, and something about her heart. Something that she felt, that she still fucking felt!
"You're right," he smiled, "I might as well admit it. Flattery never works well with unsentimental women like you."
She suddenly began to remember.
She remembered a small, football headed boy with a lopsided grin.
She remembered running through a flowery field in her imagination, with his hand in hers.
She remembered lying on her bed with a little notebook of poetry, scribbling nuances of her passionate love.
She remembered his closed eyes, when she kissed him for the first time during that play.
She remembered the way he looked on that Valentine's night, when he said that he had liked her---the hidden her---and the way that she sighed.
And then she remmebered how he said that he loved her, how he asked her to marry him, not so long ago, not anymore. What could really have changed about a man in so many years? What did it matter? Somewhere, deep inside, the Arnold she once loved might still have been alive, and that fixated her in one place. She suddenly forgot about reality, she forgot about Noah, she forgot about everything. Only he was in existence. This cruel, cold, melancholy men who still held a special, hidden place inside of her too- often-glued-together heart.
"So tell me the truth then," said she, nervously, quietly, with great difficulty.
"I want to fuck you, Helga," he replied. And she realized that she wanted to fuck him too.
Helga stared blankly at Arnold, not saying a word.
He took it as a cue.
"Check!" He exclaimed.
The door slammed behind them, and Helga was thrown on the bed, as Arnold jumped on top. Violently, madly he rippied off her clothing, licking, tugging, divulging her skin like a mad beast. And soon, he was nude as well, his muscular body against hers in a warm and steamy sensation. They looked at one another with lewd, dirty smiles, and he let himself enter her.
She threw her head back, opening her mouth wide, and closing her eyes. It never felt like this with Noah. She had forgotten what it meant to make love to an experienced lover. No, not to make love. Not even to have sex. To fuck, that's right, to fuck.
He drove it in and out, she held on relentlessly to the sheets. He pushed her neck against the pillow, she groaned in pleasure. Soon, Helga's nails dug into the muscular flesh on his back, as his hands fondled her forehead, before moving down to her lips and sliding a finger inside. She sucked on it, feelign him roaming within, closing tightly her eyes, feeling like a tigress tormented by love. He dug his fingers into her hair, sweat, heat, moaning, pain, pleasure, so dirty, so wrong, so hard---so good!!
She screamed, and he laughed, "oh you like that?" She did. She opened her mouth, he fed roughly on it. Their lips mingled, their tongues fondled against one another, soft warm feeling of his saliva, the smooth odor of her skin. It all combined to form the epithomy of sensuality. Her face, her cold eyes, her movements. His own thrusting vibrations.
Her legs were spread wide apart, they were frantically digging into the air, the sensation of his muscular thighs withing hers, moving, dancing, thrusting, exploding!! And then she orgazmed. He climaxed immediately afterward. Two explosions that shook the world. And then they fell apart to opposite sides of the bed, breathing heavily, gathering themselves.
Before long, he was on top of her again, kissing her lips, pressing his chest against her soft, bare breasts, digging into her hard nipples, "does he make you feel like this?" he whispered into her ear. It sent a rush down her body, she wanted him to make love to her again.
"No," she whispered, "only you can."
"That's the right answer," he smiled, she closed her eyes, his hands went over her cheeks. She felt flustered, she felt hot, and sore, humiliated, and yet completely satisfied.
"Do that again," she said, feeling her velvety delta becoming moist yet again at the thought of his closeness.
"My little whore," he smiled and honored her request three more times on that very same day.
It was ten o'clock on the hotel clock. Noah sat in his pajamas under the sheets of the bed, staring into the laptop, working some figures. The room was dimly lit, and he yawned, knowing that he would need to go to sleep soon. He wondered where Helga was for a moment, but soon concluded that the play was probably a late one. He didn't worry at all as he extinguished the light and closed his eyes, quickly falling into slumber.
