Greta Again! Read online

  Greta followed him. In the foyer there was a whole collection of wonderful perfumes for men, after-shave lotions, and various face creams. Lovely, she thought. I wonder how it is on the Ladies’ side?

  Mike pulled her into the last individual booth. It was much larger than expected. Well, after all, it’s a First Class toilet, Greta thought. Immediately after he closed the door Mike’s hands were already under her T-shirt. She could hardly change gears that quickly, but her bra was already unhooked. Mike had pulled his shirt over his head a long time ago. Now she was done for. She could smell his scent, everything within her needed to touch him. She also took off her T-shirt and her bra came along with it. Their bodies clung to each other. Standing, wrapped around each other, kisses that were everywhere, while they undressed one another bit by bit. He had unzipped her jeans, and she had unzipped his. His organ came toward her out of his partially open pants. It was both exciting and arousing. She reached into his pants. His organ was hard, large, and strong. She took it into her hand and encircled it with her fingers. He had, in the meantime, poked into her thong and with his other hand, pulled her jeans down over her taut behind. Half intuitively, she helped him, moving her hips back and forth. Both were so deeply absorbed in one another – into the smells of the other, the skin of the other – that they forgot everything around them. Nothing but the body of the other had any meaning. They kissed one another everywhere. His kisses were so strong, wet and intense that they were more like bites, which aroused Greta even more. She was completely under his spell and didn’t want anything else but him. He pushed into her. Standing. First from the front. Finally she had all of him in her. She moaned, her head bent into the nape of his neck. Her breath was hot. He held her thigh in the crook of his arm, the other hand held her at her waist and dug into her back. It would have been impossible to pull away from him, and she didn’t want to. Finally he pushed into her, hard. She moaned loudly, and he did the same. He kept pushing, harder and harder. It was pure sex that with one stroke relieved all of the tension that both of them had carried within themselves in the last few days. Then he pulled out, turned her around with one motion of his hand, and pushed in from behind. Greta realized exactly what he was doing but couldn’t and didn’t want to change anything. He was in her again. She groaned . This time he pushed into her even deeper and harder . He held onto her narrow hips with both hands. She leaned on the toilet seat. He held onto her tightly and they let out a moan at the same time.

  “You are so beautiful. I want you. You feel so good. I want you. I can see you so well from behind. How beautiful you are.”

  He pulled out again and turned her around once more.

  “Sit down on the seat, and I’ll take you from the front and then we’ll come together.”

  Greta could only moan her affirmative answer. She was like honey in his hands. He pushed into her again, first gently, then with ever greater force, all the while supporting her back with one hand, while reaching into her crotch with the other. His organ inside her, his hand nearby –what he was doing wasn’t clear. But everything was unimportant all of a sudden. She just wanted more of everything. Then she felt him bending over her with his entire weight, and pushing mightily twice more, and then pouring into her. She herself felt a vibration in her hips and on the inside of her thighs. Her entire lower body seemed to shiver. She felt warmth and something like a shower of butterflies, and everything in her body seemed to dance. She had never had such an orgasm before.

  Chapter 11

  After they got dressed again they went back into the lounge separately. Greta felt extremely daring. She had never experienced or done anything so cool before. Still completely in the throes of the experience and the feelings that had been set free, she had truly forgotten everything else.

  The flight! shot into her mind.

  Shit!

  Even the shock of losing touch with reality and forgetting the flight couldn’t alter her animated expression, however. Mike looked at her and said:

  “You are incredibly sexy, Greta. You don’t even realize it. Your hips, your legs, your thighs. You sex bomb, you most wanton woman on earth. Come, I’ll take you to the counter. If you don’t get your flight, we’ll find a solution. Sex with you was simply magnificent and if I had my way, I’d like to do it again right now.”

  “Oh, God, Mike. The flight. I totally messed up. If . . .”

  “We’ll find another solution,” is all that he said. He pulled her along with him, grabbing jacket and bags. As quickly as they had entered the Lounge, they were gone again. Half running to the ticket window, they saw a few people standing around, but most had already boarded. Greta pushed up to the window.

  “Has the stand-by list been called already?”

  “What is your name?”

  “Greta Mayfield.”

  “We called you. Why didn’t you respond? Now we’ve given the seat away. Sorry. If you don’t stay here at the counter and reply right away, as soon as you’re called, then we can’t do anything for you. And that was the last flight to Europe today.”

  “What a pain.”

  Greta knew for sure that she couldn’t do anything about it. Once she didn’t respond, it was over. It would do no good to make a scene here in front of the counter. Her colleagues on the ground did everything right. She wasn’t there.

  “Don’t worry.” Come, we’ll go to British or American Airlines. They can’t both be totally booked.”

  “But that’s a full-price ticket.”

  “I know. I’ll buy it. I promised that there would be a solution. Right now, I would probably buy you the jewels of the Empress of China if you asked me. Sex with you is magic. You’ve put me under a spell, haven’t you? That should give me cause to pause, don’t you think?”

  Greta couldn’t help herself – her face lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Was it still the after-effects of the previous experience or did she understand correctly? He was going to buy the ticket to Munich?

  How great is that?

  “Yes, the sex just now was really fabulous – but the jewels of the Empress of China wouldn’t be bad either.”

  Both had to laugh aloud.

  “Too bad that we couldn’t spend more time together in the last few days,“ he said.

  “You mean because of the fabulous sex?”

  “Yes, that too. But I mean it sincerely. Now you’re going to be gone in a few minutes and I don’t know exactly when I’m going to see you again. Or I should say – when I will experience you again? It’s a shame that one feels happiness mostly for just a few moments. Why aren’t we humans able to experience happiness as lasting? Is it because we live so fast? Or is it that happiness only brushes up against us?”

  While they were on their way to the neighboring airline counter to book the flight for Greta, they held hands. Everyone who looked closely could see how happy they were together.

  Greta looked at the floor, felt his hand in hers, and listened to his words, lost in thought. Her fear of not arriving in Munich in time had disappeared.

  “Maybe we experience happiness for only fleeting moments because that’s how we are. I mean, it’s precisely because we’re not in a position to experience happiness as a lasting feeling, that it’s so special. Ecstasy that passes quickly, a thrill that comes over us, a moment that makes time stand still, or even sex that makes everything seem unimportant.”

  Just before the British Airways counter, Mike stopped and pulled Greta to him again, and kissed her gently and long.

  “You are even more beautiful when I’ve had sex with you. I can hardly wait to touch you again. You absolutely gleam. I want to see you again as soon as possible. Promise me that you’ll find a way to go to Venice with me. Fall is coming, and it will be wildly romantic. Even if it rains, and we have to run around in rubber boots. In the fall, only the Venetians are in the city. Wine, pasta, and a ride in a gondola, wrapped in blankets. I can already see it in my mind’s eye. Will you come?”

 
“Yes, Mike, show me your Venice.”

  At the British Airways counter there weren’t too many people. The flight was booked in just a few minutes. Greta was to fly over London to Munich. The baggage was checked.

  Mike walked with her to Passport Control. Here they had to say good-bye. Greta was still completely stupefied by her trip to the restroom. Mike’s scent enveloped her like a perfume that she didn’t want to wash off.

  “How nice that I can’t take a shower for the next twelve hours.”

  “Why?” he asked curiously and held her tightly against himself with both arms.

  “Because I’ll have your scent with me quite intensely for the next few hours, and will be able to take a piece of you with me. I’ll have the feeling that you’re still with me because I’ll be able to smell you.”

  “Those are beautiful words. You are really something extra special. I’m already yearning for you. Thank you for making me happy – even if we only manage it for a few moments. Let’s have many happy moments with one another – with and without sex. Okay?”

  They laughed with one another – loud, heartily, and openly. It felt just right. Greta was really happy.

  “Okay, that’s what we’ll do. It’s a deal.”

  “Let me know when you’ve arrived. I want to know if everything went well.”

  “Fine. I’ll know then, too, how my schedule looks for the next few weeks. Then we can plan our next get-together for sure. I’m not happy to go, but I have to be on my way. Otherwise I’ll miss my second flight to Munich today.”

  They laughed once more. Then kissed each other sincerely and let each other go. As Greta left Passport Control, she turned around. If Mike is still standing there, or maybe turns around, everything will be well, she thought. She turned and searched past the Security barriers on the other side of Passport Control. Then she went over to the other side, just to be sure. But Mike had disappeared.

  Everything always happens for the best, she thought, and smiled to herself. And then she headed to her gate.

  Chapter 12

  Arriving in Munich, Greta still felt super happy but also knocked out. The flight was uncomplicated and without incident; even changing planes in London went smoothly.

  In the twelve hours she had time to think and the inside of her head was like a bazaar: loud, confused, and far too many thoughts. The days in New York hadn’t been at all what she expected and secretly hoped they would be, but the closing event was really perfect. Never before in her life had she done anything as crazy as the trip to the restroom. When she tells Nathalie about that, what will she say? Greta saw herself as incredibly cool and daring. I defy someone else to imitate me and have the same experience, Greta smiled to herself. Sex with Mike had really been bombastic – even that was something she had never experienced before.

  When she got home there were several messages on the answering machine from Nathalie. She was worried: “Call me when you get here. I got your messages. Good that everything is okay, but I absolutely have to come over to see you. We have to talk.”

  Oh, my, Greta thought – we have “to talk.” That sounds so formal. Had she overlooked something? Made a mistake? Or could something have happened to Nathalie?

  She immediately dialed Nathalie’s number.

  “I’m here. What’s going on?” Your messages on the answering machine sounded strange.”

  “Oh, I didn’t want them to. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, yes –I have so much to tell you. Can you come over?”

  “Yes, I’ll be right there. I have news too.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” Nathalie hung up.

  A little later, Greta’s doorbell rang. She had just stepped out of the shower and hadn’t even completely unpacked her suitcase stuffed with the many purchases from New York. Nathalie brought, as she often did, delicious croissants, and looked as if she were glowing.

  “Man, do you ever look wonderful!“ Greta said, amazed. Have you been to a spa, did you get some kind of injection, or is this a new wonder lotion? If it is, how much does it cost, and I need it too!”

  Nathalie laughed. “Thank you, Sweetheart. Yes, you could use a little color in your cheeks. But you have an excuse – the night-flight from New York. No wonder lotion, no visit to a spa. I was in South Africa for the last four days.”

  Greta stammered. “What . . .where were you? Hey, you didn’t even say anything. What, why, with whom, and really? You go first. Tell me everything, and then I’ll tell you about New York.

  They sat down together on the couch. Nathalie took a deep breath, and began to tell her story.

  “Well, you know that I got an inheritance from some aunt, about whom I know very little. So now, someone in South Africa pops up and turns out to be an even more distant relative. The aunt’s cousin, or something. In any case, this cousin, who could be my father in terms of his age, invited me to Capetown, and I spontaneously decided to go.”

  “One can’t leave you alone, even for just a few days, you noodle-head. Tell me more; what happened then?”

  “As I said, the cousin could well be my father. His name is Claude, and he lives in Capetown in a wonderful area of the city in a dream of a villa, with pool, staff, chauffeur, and everything that one imagines rich people have. First I thought he might want to fight me for a piece of the inheritance. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. He is a widower and has no children. Actually he’s searching for his roots and his heritage. That’s how he got to me. We spoke a lot about family relationships and about the sense and confusion of life. I can only tell you that we got along very well and I sort of felt that I had finally found the father that I never really had. Among other things, Claude also showed me around town, the botanical garden, among other things. He had gone ahead while I stopped to read a description of a certain kind of butterfly. All of a sudden, this guy speaks to me—pretty open and off-the-cuff – you know, otherwise I don’t really go in for this kind of approach, but this guy was different somehow. His name was Marc, he was South African, thirty-six years old, single, no children -- I found all this out about him in the botanical garden already. We immediately fell into a super conversation, as if we had known each other for a very long time but had lost contact. Do you by chance believe in soul-mates?”

  “Don’t ask me that, Nathalie. I’m the cogitator of the two of us. But tell me more.”

  “Well, we talked and talked and wandered around the entire afternoon in that dream of a garden. Claude had noticed that I had met someone and gave me a sign that everything was okay with him. Marc and I spontaneously decided to make a date for the next night. Sounds completely unreal, doesn’t it? The next day I wanted to go to Table Mountain more than anything and Claude took the tour with me. It was breathtaking. You have to see the photos! Anyway, I had this date with Marc in the evening but was completely wiped out by the day-trip. I also had the worst sunburn because I was a dumb ass and didn’t put on enough suntan lotion. But then, I floated through the evening as if I were on Cloud 9. I’ve never experienced anything like that. It was almost surreal. If I were to read that in some tearjerker novel – okay, it’s made up – but I really experienced it. It was a completely magical evening. We had so much in common, our views about life, our values. I could really talk about everything. Listen, can you imagine this happening? Truly quirky, unrealistic. If I didn’t have this sunburn that’s peeling as I sit here, I wouldn’t believe it myself. But the story keeps going.”

  “Go on.”

  “He brought me home at the end of the evening. Claude invited him in and then left us alone. And Marc stayed with me the whole night.”

  “And – how was it?”

  “We didn’t do anything.”

  “What? Nothing? That can’t be true. Couldn’t he? Or . . .you?”

  “No, Greta. It was completely different than that. We didn’t have sex because at age thirty-six, he’s still a virgin. Imagine that! He’s waiting for someone, the ri
ght one. Marc is very religious, Catholic, and goes to Bible class three times a week. What do you think of that?”

  “I don’t have a clue. You’re bullshitting me, right? That simply can’t be. A virgin? A guy?”

  “No, it’s true. Just as true as the fact that I’m sitting here next to you. No sex. Nada. Nix. We spent the whole night awake, or rather, sleeping and cuddling together in bed.”

  “And then, what happened then?” You were away longer than that.”

  “Well, I got myself a South-African subscriber card for my mobile phone. Claude had planned a little safari and I really didn’t want to refuse to go. But I also wanted to stay in contact with Marc. Frankly, the guy fascinated me. The first stop of the tour was at a lodge, somewhere in the middle of the Pampas. Fantastic! When we arrived, I was really dragging my feet. First the Table Mountain tour, then the night without sleep with Marc, and now the whole day in the Jeep. It was a bit much. When I pulled myself together a little, I checked my phone, and there was a message from him:

  Wish you were here!

  You can imagine that I just about melted away. Then there was a knock on the door. I go to answer the knock, and almost have a stroke. There’s Marc, standing there. In a reflex, I slammed the door shut in his face. Marc is standing in front of the door, I called to Claus in the next room. He could hear me clearly through the connecting door. What should I do now? And very pragmatically, he replied, Open it! I was somehow as dim as a nightlight. Couldn’t add one and one to equal two. Well, I opened the door, and to make a long story short, we spent the second night together without sex.”

  “What, no sex again? Do you think he’s normal? What did you think about what was going on?

  “Yes, it was a little peculiar. I would have liked to have had more. He has a great body – that I had already seen and felt. But not more. Okay, we were into petting. We stopped before we went all the way. But I have to say, it was so special and also okay for me because I had the feeling that it had to do with me as a person. Of course, the physical is a part of me too, but first it was only about me. Do you know what I mean? So often the physical is so much more important and in the foreground much too quickly – but this time it was completely different. I completely fell in love. And maybe the lack of sex was another reason why.”