Foreign Affairs

by Jacqueline George

  The first time it happened, she had been overwhelmed with guilt. Then after it had happened several more times, guilt was replaced by the worry that she might cause some kind of marital break-up, but things did not seem to work out that way. She continued to be welcomed calmly by both John and Sonya, to be taken in and caressed, and it did not seem as if she had any impact on the strong bond between the two.

  She gave voice to her musings. “You don't mind me coming here like this? Making love to John, I mean?”

  Sonya rolled a little more into her to look at her face. Pat's curly hair brushed her forehead. “Of course not. Why should I mind? He's mine, and I'm letting you make love to him. I'm always here, and you're not doing anything secret. Why should I mind?”

  “It's just that I wouldn't want to make you jealous....”

  Sonya laughed quietly. “I'm not jealous. He's just like all men at heart, just a lazy animal. I feed him and make love to him, make him comfortable, even let him share my beautiful girlfriend until he's completely worn out. Do you think he can get up the energy to even think about running after other women? He's too comfortable where he is.” She thought for a while, and reached out to touch Pat's cheek. “What about you? Are you jealous? Just coming over here and making love now and then can't be enough for you.”

  “No. I suppose not. But between you, you keep me so satisfied that I can't be bothered looking around for a boyfriend. Not that there's much on offer around here.”

  “Well, maybe you'll get the urge one day. You'll want to have babies and a house, and everything that goes with them. Just don't forget to take your pills in the meantime. Starting a premature family is the last thing you want to do, and I should know.”

  “Did you have a baby with John?”

  “No. Not with John. I had two little ones when he married me and took me away from Peru. They're grown up now.”

  “How did you meet him? Tell me. I can't imagine how a calm man like him could keep hold of someone like you.”

  “You think I'm too crazy for him? Hmm, maybe you're right. I was working in a bar when I met him. I'd been living with a doctor, a good man but very Latino. I came from a very poor family, and he let me live in his house almost like a wife. He made me comfortable, let me have servants, gave me babies, but he wouldn't marry me. Probably because I was poor and hadn't been to school much. It didn't stop him sleeping with me, or with any other girl he could get hold of, but South Americans are like that sometimes.

  “I got sick of it after a few years. Sick of being locked up and not treated like a real wife. I wanted to be married in church, married properly. So we started to fight and I walked out.

  “Life was very hard after that. He wouldn't give me any money and life can be very hard in our town. I had jobs, cleaning, working in a cafe, and also in a bar. I had to have three jobs to survive. I lived in a little room by myself, and the children came to visit. It wasn't far from their father's house.

  “It was tough, and I'd be exhausted at the end of the day. Sometimes I used to pray to God to let me die. It was only the visits from the children that kept me going.

  “Then John came into the bar one night. I worked in a special bar. One of the mine engineers, a gringo, had retired and started an English pub. He was English so he called it The King's Head, just like in England. All the gringos used to come and play darts, which local bars don't have there. We made steak and kidney pies for them. They paid half as much again for their drinks as they would in the other bars, but they came anyway. It was a nice place, The King's Head. I wouldn't mind running a bar like that myself. It certainly brought in a fair return.

  “When John came in, I liked him straightaway. He was small and slim—he's got a bit of a stomach now. Look at him. I guess we're all getting a bit older every day. Anyway, he was wearing one of those bush shirts with all the pockets and looked just neat. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools, which were a bit too high for him really, and the way he did that looked sweet, too. His Spanish was awful. I could hardly understand him, and I didn't speak any English at all then. Still, it didn't stop us.

  “They say the best way for a man to learn a language is to get a long-haired dictionary, and that's just what I was. I taught him all his Spanish, and he's still not very good at it. Very fluent but not properly educated, and his accent is terribly English. Well, after he had tried to speak with me over a couple of nights, I got him to invite me to a disco. We went to one, but it was nearly empty so we took a taxi to another. On the way we started to talk about love (how did we manage that with so few words between us?) and we were holding hands. He took my hand and rubbed the back of it over his tummy. Of course, he was standing up like a telegraph pole. I felt so ashamed that he should do anything so obvious, and in a taxi too. Stupid, wasn't I? Anyway, I wasn't too stupid to know what to do about it, so we told the taxi to take us to a motel instead.

  “It was very nice. He was gentle, and very, very impressed with me. I suppose I was a complete change from English girls, who can be a bit boring about sex sometimes. He behaved like a kid in a sweet shop.

  “So then it went on from there. I started to stay in his apartment and act like his girl. He even got on with the children. We did everything together, and I showed him all around town. Not long after, only a few months later, his company moved him on. He said I could come if we got married.

  “That was a joke. I would have married him on those conditions even if he had been a three-eyed monster. He gave me airline tickets for me and the kids. Their father didn't like to let them go, but he hadn't married me so he didn't have much choice. We got a ticket out, and the first place we went was Disneyland in California. How could a country girl resist that? I had always wanted to go in an airplane, but never believed I would.

  “We went to live in Indonesia, and the children went to a proper school and learned English. I had to learn English too. That was difficult. I loved John before, but as things worked out I kept on loving him even if he is lazy. I'm really grateful to him, for me and for what he did for the kids, but he hates it when I tell him that. He wants me to be here because I love him, nothing else.”

  They lay thinking and looking at John. “It's good that you come round and make love to us. You make him very excited, and he works twice as hard. You're good for his figure, and I get more out of him as well. And on top of that, you make me feel completely full. I could make love to you for hours.”

  “You do, frequently,” Pat giggled. “Tell me about the motel, about the first time he made love to you.”

  “The first time? Oof—that's difficult. We've done it millions of time since then. Well, for a start, the motels are different there. They're just for making love, nothing else. No one stays there just for sleeping, you go to a hotel if you want to do that. Motels are where you go with your lover and they charge by the hour. It's all very discreet, of course. Peru is a good Catholic country and although we might be naughty quite often, we don't like it to show too much.

  “So the motels are generally set back away from the road, out of sight. There's just a big sign, you know, ‘Motel California’, ‘Maxim’s’ – something like that. You just drive down a little lane and there it is, just a normal motel with a separate garage for each room. As soon as you drive into a garage, a man outside draws a big canvas curtain to hide you and your car. We were in a taxi, of course, so we had to make arrangements with him to come back after a couple of hours. They keep the garage dark, so you can't be seen properly as you get out of your car.

  “When you go into the rooms, they are like modern, comfortable hotel rooms. Of course, you get expensive motels, and some a bit cheaper, but they are all clean and comfortable. You have a double bed and a bathroom. Some of them have a special chair for making love in.

  “Most of them have big mirrors, often on the ceiling, so you can watch yourself making love. I like doing that. John is going to put one over our bed, when he gets around to it. Perhaps he'll wait until after his mother
has come to visit. That's why I made him build the big wardrobe with sliding mirror doors. It's nice when he does it to me from behind, and I can see his hands going all over me. If I turn a bit away, I can see just how full and stretched I am, and how it's going in and out. It's very exciting. We must try it on you next time.”

  “Did your motel have a special chair?”

  “No. Not that one. Just an ordinary bed, but with hard springs.”

  “Did he undress you straightaway?”

  “Well, you've got to remember he was terribly English then. He wasn't as good at it as he is now, although he was just as randy. Anyway, he didn't know what to do when we got there and just stood there kissing me. I had to pull him onto the bed. And then the idiot climbed onto it without taking his shoes off, so I had to stop him. He got a bit organised then and started to unbutton my blouse as he kissed me. It's always exciting with a new man, so I didn't mind if he was a bit clumsy. Then he was all mixed up taking off my bra. I hate it when men do that, don't you? Anyone would think there was a security lock around the back the way they fumble and fumble. I had to sit up and do it for him in the end. He was completely embarrassed, and I was beginning to wonder what I had landed myself with.

  So, he'd got my top off and then he went nuts. He loved my breasts and didn't know which one to kiss first. He still likes them.”

  “I'm not surprised.” Pat reached down to brush one with her fingertips. “You make me jealous. They're not only a nice shape, they're such a nice colour too. You're lucky.”

  Sonya shivered as her nipple stood up under Pat's teasing. “Anyway, they were driving him crazy. He was a bit rough with them, but I didn't mind because I was getting just as excited as he was. I stopped worrying about him then because I knew that whatever else he might get wrong, I was going to have him up inside me very soon. You know how it is when your blood's running. It doesn't matter who you're with anymore, just as long as he's got something to put inside you.”

  “And John had something?”

  “Well, I didn't know yet. He still had his clothes on, and he was so busy bouncing around playing with my breasts and kissing and sucking them that I didn't even have a chance to get his shirt off. I had to drag him from my breasts to get him to move down and finish undressing me. He managed to undo my jeans, although his hands were shaking. Then he dragged them off. He wasn't totally ignorant because he got his fingers hooked inside my panty elastic and whipped my panties off at the same time. I thought that showed promise.”

  “What did he think of you? Did he like what he saw?”

  “Like it? I thought he was going to blow a fuse. He was all over me. He must have kissed all of me from my belly button to my knees in thirty seconds, and then he started over again. It was very flattering. I was still trying to undo his buttons, but he was hopeless. I got about half of them undone and tried to pull his shirt over his head, but he got stuck and had to stop what he was doing to pull it off. He broke two buttons because he was being so clumsy.”

  “Really? When he makes love to us he's so confident and controlled.”

  “Aah, but that's after I've trained him. Before, he just had a lot of enthusiasm but not much technique. I didn't mind, though. I liked him, and I was too busy just trying to get him on top of me to worry. I'd managed to undo his trousers while he was wrapped up in his shirt, and at last he took a minute to get out of them. Then he dived straight back to his kissing. He was crazy.”

  “Did you have your hair trimmed the way you've got it now?”

  “Oh, I've always kept it short, but I had hair all over it then. John wants me like this. He says it's softer and nicer to kiss. And it doesn't stimulate him so quickly when I rub his tip all over me. But my hair was normal then. I didn't start cleaning my lips until later.”

  “I like the way you keep it. And he's right. It does feel nice and smooth. I want to do mine, but how do you get it so smooth? Where I shave for my bikini I get the most awful bristles.”

  “I don't do it. When I try, I just get a crick in my neck, and I can't see the bits right at the back anyway. John does it. Every couple of weeks when I'm feeling lazy, I just sit back with a magazine and let him get on with it. First he clips me like a hairdresser, and then he uses cream to get rid of the stubble. He spends ages over it, but that's just because he likes it. He does my front first, and then turns me over and does the back. Afterward he rubs on hand cream and insists on being paid for his work. It's a big con really, because I'm sure he'd be happy doing it even if I didn't make love to him afterwards.

  “He did me again only last week. Maybe I'll get him to do the same to you when he wakes up. No, I won't. Why should he have all the fun? After we've had a bite, I'm going to do it myself.” She rocked her head so it pressed against Pat's centre.

  Pat flushed, and steered the conversation back on course.

  “Where was I? Oh, yes. He'd gone back to kissing my tummy, and I was wondering when he was going to get on with it. It was then that I found he wasn't such an idiot when it came to lovemaking. I was trying to pull him round by the shoulders to get him on top, but I don't think he noticed. He was too busy down below. He took hold of my knees and just wrenched them apart.

  “I wasn't so happy then about having someone looking at me closely there. Or getting too close. It wasn't something my other lovers did very much. Perhaps it's not a Latino thing, but they were all happy enough to make me swallow them whole. Anyway, John was completely out of control. He knelt there for a moment staring at me. Then he looked up, and he was grinning like a school boy. I didn't know what to do with him, but it didn't matter. He knew what he wanted and wasn't going to ask my opinion.

  “He got off the mattress and dragged me around until my bottom was right on the edge of the bed and my feet were on the floor. Then he seemed to think he'd forgotten something and walked right round the bed to put a pillow under my head. A quick upside-down kiss and then he went back to kneel between my legs. I thought he was going to stick it in at last but instead he sat back on his heels and lifted one of my legs so he could kiss the inside of my knee. That was nice.

  “He kissed all up the inside of my thigh, right to the top. All around the edge of my hair and back down the other leg. I think steam must have been coming out of my ears because when he worked his way back up and was just going around for the second time, I grabbed him by the hair with both hands and tried to pull his head up to mine.

  “I didn't know then what a mule he can be. I must have been hurting him because I was really heaving on his hair, but he didn't move a centimetre, no matter how hard I pulled. As soon as I relaxed my pulling, he slipped down and started kissing me.

  “That was very good. I'd been kissed there a couple of times, but not like this. He seemed to love doing it. He was kissing and sucking, and reaching his tongue as far up inside me as he could. It felt just as if he was a starving man and I was dinner. He sort of nibbled and sucked me and twirled his tongue around inside as if he was stirring something. Finally he settled down to big licks from inside me, up to my clit, and back again. It was fantastic. He was doing it so hard and fast that I came almost immediately. He didn't stop, of course. He just kept right on doing it. I had my legs around his head trying to hold him still, but he kept digging away inside me. I came and came and came until I collapsed. It was the most fantastic multiple orgasm I'd ever had, and it must have lasted for ages and ages.”

  Sonya scooted around and wrapped her arm around Pat's thighs. Holding them closed, she pressed her face into them, lying rigid while the memory ebbed. Pat stroked her hip silently.

  “Mmh. It's good just thinking about it. Stupid of him, though. I was shattered and only needed to curl up. I could see he was disappointed but I just couldn't help myself. I turned my back on him, took his thing between my legs, pulled his arms around me and dozed off. Can you believe it? He was desperate for it, but I was just holding him and not letting him move. I don't suppose it was more than ten minutes, not much more anyw
ay, when his cock twitching between my legs woke me up again.

  “I felt guilty then, but I still wasn't up to much. So I lay on top of him and put it in. I told him not to move, and I just lay between his legs trying to sleep again. He wouldn't let me. He didn't actually move, but I could feel it jumping inside me. It was a strange feeling—you've felt him, of course. I don't know how he makes it twitch like that, but it can be really powerful sometimes. It felt as if I had a live animal in there. It was terribly exciting, and he was waking me up again. I didn't think it was possible for me to do it again so quickly, so I cheated and didn't let him know I was starting to be interested again.

  “I think he guessed something was happening though, because it started jumping even more. I lay still for as long as I could, but I had to start moving in the end. It didn't take long. He was moaning, and I felt him go off like a machine gun inside me. It was great. I could feel every pulse, and it even made me come again, although it was much more gentle that time.

  “I don't know what the taxi driver thought when he came to fetch us. I felt as if I'd just run a marathon, and I must have looked awful.”

  “How did you pay for the motel?”

  “That's easy. When you're ready to go, there's a place in the wall where there's a serving hatch with a bell push beside it. Well, it's like a serving hatch but set about waist height. You ring the bell and after a couple of minutes, the hatch slides open. Whoever is there takes your money and that's that. They can't see any more than your tummy because the hatch is so low. That way they don't know who you are. It's very important to be secret in a place like that because nearly everyone's married, and they don't go to motels with their husbands, believe me!”

  “It all sounds very civilised. I wish they could have that sort of thing here, but I suppose us Aussies wouldn't know how to use them anyway.”