NC-17

The remote Abitibi Region in the Province of Quebec in Canada was a quiet little piece of heaven. Removed from the hustle and bustle of larger communities; the 57 inhabitants of the Samuelle's village biggest worry was whether snow would fall more than the record 19 inches. Life was slow, good and stress free.

The 18 children attending the one room rural schoolhouse were present come rain or high water. Ms. Adrian made sure if they ever left this hamlet the children would be sophisticated by anyone's standard. So she taught them languages, art, music together with their reading, writing and arithmetic and of course Computer Sciences, theater, even ballet, opera and gourmet cooking.

The youngest student was 8-year-old Adam Samuelle, a beautiful smart child who came to school from the arm of his sister Elena 14 and their brother Michel, a 16 year old who together with Mick Schtoppel were the oldest students in the class. Elena's best friend was a beautiful 14-year-old named Nikita Wirth Jones. The other children's ages varied from the range of those 5 students, Ms. Adrian's best and brightest.

Ms. Adrian's twin boys Seymour and Jason, both 9 years old also attended the school. The longevity of the inhabitants of this community was surpassed only by their loyalty to the land. They remained their entire lives in these parts, for it boasted about being close to paradise. "Amazingly enough", Ms. Adrian wrote her husband Walter, "no one here dreams of leaving."

Paul and Madelyn Samuelle had been long time neighbors and landlords to Roberta and George Jones and regretfully George, being older by 10 years than Roberta had died about a year before. It had been great to have someone like Jones in town, he spoke strictly in English to everyone and thus they all mastered the language prevalent in most of Canada along with their native Quebecois French.

The Samuelle's, whose ancestors had established the village, were happy the lumber producing area was as influential as it had become. Never leaving their French Canadian roots behind, even though Paul had been born in the States, their pride in being Quebecois never ceased to be imprinted on their children. So Paul and Madelyn had made sure all their children were born in the Region.

The widow Roberta Wirth Jones, who had always been a wild one, had started going off to bars in other parts of the Province and finally one night came home with Perry Bauer. The man was rich and rumor had it he was in town hiding from the Mob. He did lavish Roberta with possessions, but kept her strung out on booze and pills. The Jones' name disappeared from Roberta and Nikita's lives.

Nikita had confessed to Elena how terrified she was of Bauer who tried to no avail to seduce the 14 year old. The girls were talking, like always, while concocting some delicacy for dessert, the baking was Nikita's escape from the terror she was living. That day Michel, who was the beauty's boyfriend, found her sitting in the back of the schoolhouse sobbing uncontrollably.

"What is it ma cher, why are you crying so?" He asked Nikita stroking her face with the back of his hand and gently kissing her pink little girl lips. His 'magical thumb', as Nikita called it, stroking her delicate eyebrow.

"It is nothing, I'll survive." She said padding him on the hand, returning his kiss and running away passing Mick who was going to meet up with Michel and sneak a ciggy.

"I love her so and she won't tell me what is wrong. She is really upset Mick, I am worried, could it be that Bauer character her mother has taken up with?" Michel asked his friend as they lit up a couple of Marlboros.

"Her mother is boasting they are leaving town. She says Bauer wants to marry her and adopt Nikita." Mick inhaling told Michel who sat on the ground and put his face into his upturned hands.

***

Michel lay on his bed in a room he had constructed by adding a floor between the pitched roof and the floor of the barn. Paul had told Madelyn when he gave permission for the remodeling; their son's overactive hormones needed privacy. Now Michel's hand, smoothing the raging hard on he seemed to constantly sport, was in the middle of preparation to assuage his ache with visions of Nikita dancing in his head.

He stood locking the door and making sure his younger siblings didn't catch him in the act. He thought he heard a muffled sound coming from behind the curtains covering the only window in the room. He decided to investigate and found Nikita crouched against the wall, still crying her eyes out.

"Kita, what are you doing here. Why are you still crying?" Michel helped the gorgeous girl up and felt his heart constrict with sorrow.

"I didn't know where else to go Michel. I don't want to leave with Bauer, I hate my mom." The girl blurted out, speaking in English with her Aussie accent, which so thrilled the young man.

"Come here, tell me what is going on, when are you leaving?" He asked sitting on the bed. Nikita and Michel had unspoken rules, knowing what the consequences of getting carried away could be; the young couple had an silent agreement - When it came to sex and being alone the rule was - Stay cool and disengage.

She sat on his lap, to Michel's discomfort and told him her wows. He listened intently and thankful her sad tale distracted his erection from exploding. Michel" the exquisite girl next said in hushed tones, now stroking his lower lip with her index finger, his mouth aghast at the sensation "I don't want anyone else to take my cherry, I want it to be you. I don't know when I'll see you next, I have dreamed about us." She told him and kissed the lip she'd been fondling with a butterfly touch.

Michel swallowed hard and pushed her away, standing up and forcing her to do the same. "Kita you don't know what you are saying." He said, catching their reflection on the closet door. Somehow Michel knew this was not the 14 year old speaking, but the world she was forced to live in seeping into her subconscious and making her sound - cheap.

He looked like a wild man; hair messed up, eyes dilated, raging boner. She smiled and said "Look at yourself Michel, you are beautiful, I have loved you forever." Her dramatic speech followed by an attempt to grab his hand. The young man calling into play all his resolve to wait until they could get married, moved away again.

"Kita, I have never been with a girl, I too am a virgin, I don't want to 'take your cherry' as you put it and never see you again. I probably couldn't live without you." He told her, this time moving in and holding her by her arms, green fiery eyes affixed on soft blue ones. "Marry me please. Be my wife before God and all the Saints".

"Then you'll never forget me Michel? Will be married then. Please don't let Bauer deface me, at least let my first time be sweet, full of love." She narrowed the gap between them and lapped her tongue on his lips, her desperation shinning through.

This time Michel's 16-year-old subconscious took flight. His smile melted butter as he said, "Alright, we'll both learn, stay with me, stay the night? After we join you will be my wife and I your husband." He then kissed her hard and they both groaned from the sheer love they felt. Innocence at the verge of disappearing.

"Oh Michel like in a movie. I do I take you as my husband." She said as Michel started reciting the wedding vows in front of a cross his mother had insisted he hang in his room. Nikita followed suit and they both ended with a prayer. The couple kissed and whispered Amen; Michel slipped his school ring unto her finger. It was big and he had to put scotch tape around the band to make it stay. Michel took off his shirt and started opening his slacks. Nikita was ready to mimic him and he stopped her "No, let me, I want to undress you…slowly."

Michel with care and devotion stripped the girl of her shirt, pants and undergarments. He was worshiping this almost woman and found the thrill of the pace a huge turn on. She was basically a puddle. The man before her was making this scary prohibited act incredibly life altering and perfect.

***************

Spent he lay with his beloved and said. "Thank you Kita, I will never love any other woman like I love you right now. You are the wife of my heart." She smiled, put her arms around him and they drifted off to sleep; during the night, they tried this new fantastic skill a couple of more times. Every time Nikita came she professed her love for her husband.

Suddenly the door burst open and Roberta drunk on her ass screamed obscenities at Nikita while Paul and Madelyn scolded Michel with their eyes. A smiling Bauer carried a squirming Nikita out of the room and Michel, over his father's restraining arm screamed at Perry, "Touch her and I will kill you. Father she is my wife, she is my wife." Michel cried himself to sleep that night and many more to come.

The morning came and Michel awoke to an empty bed, the girl had left behind a drawing of a red cherry with the word "Thanks husband," printed in black. Michel never knew how the drawing got there, but he vowed they would be together, he would find a way.

By the time Michel arrived at school the next morning Ms. Adrian was announcing to the class that Nikita Jones…Wirth had moved out of town with her mother and her step-dad to be. She was going to be missed and had promised to write. Ms. Adrian pledged she would read her correspondence to the class when it came.

***

Time passed, Michel graduated and went off to college in Montreal and post graduate in the States. He never again heard from Nikita though they had tried, even as a class project, to find their missing pal. His memory of that night magnified only by the experiences which came after. Now he sat in his enormous office overlooking the city of lights - Paris France - thinking of his past. He was 32, filthy rich and lonely.

Oil had been found in the Abitibi Region making everyone in his village enormously rich. The company the townspeople, all 55 of them, had formed was well established and ran smoothly. Abitibi Concern Enterprises was a very profitable venture, which had expanded into other activities with Michel Samuelle at the helm.

Michel was now in their European offices, which he loathed to visit since his fiancé Simone had been murdered. While caught by accident in the middle of a terrorist attack, the petite Asian beauty had died during Michel's absence from France, were they'd met. He was going to marry her to please his folks more than himself, since Michel had never loved again after that one act more than 16 years before which had left him forever scarred and feeling… married.

Of course Michel was to say the least a 'player'. An excitingly handsome masculine man, perfect body, incredible sensuality, sex appeal and money, he had the women throwing themselves at him. And Michel, being a red blooded male, was playing to his heart's content, the lessons of his youth perfected to bring him nothing but unbridled pleasure and vacant release.

As an example of his disdain for the sheer act of gratification, Michel's office had a couch - very ample, very comfortable and very worn. At the present time he was sitting on that couch while two lovely "assistants" serviced him. The women looked like they came out of Playboy magazine and their sexual dexterity made them seem out of the America's Triple X threater.

Michel's head lay on the back of the couch, his suit jacket opened along with his shirt, the tie holding his hands to the window handle, his feet planted firmly on the carpeted floor, pants around the ankles. One beauty, a redhead, was giving Michel the lap dance of a lifetime.

The other brunette beauty, exotic as all get up, was not only servicing Michel but also the redhead. She would divide her attention between Michel's mouth and neck and the redhead's breasts. Michel's every whim acquired, he was hovering with every inch of his skin now being licked by the women.

All three were panting, growling and the women obeying Michel's orders like sheep. The feeling and the visual were too much for Michel and he reached orgasm again.

The brunette and the redhead gratifying each other for Michel's hidden voyeurism, he ripped the tie of his hand, who cared if the Hermes tie cost $200. The door opened and in came Walter ordering everyone to cease and desist and get dressed. The women finished and then left kissing the dressing Adonis goodbye.

"Aye Michel, get a room next time, I am old, can have a coronary, what if your Mother walked in?" Walter Wolfe was Ms. Adrian's husband, a man Michel had learned to trust and whom he had known since birth. Walter had been a merchant marine and would be absent from the hamlet for months at a time. But upon his return he would make up for lost time, Michel saw him as a grandfather and really admired his tenacity and charm.

"Walter I am so damn empty, don't even know those women's names," he said to his trusted friend, "…empty." He mumbled while walking to the trashcan and throwing away the tie.

"My boy just heard from your Father informing the Australian concern needs your attention. I know you don't want to go, we've discussed this at length, but we feel a visit down under will bring you 'up and over'." The bandana Calvin Kline wearing old man joked.

"Who is 'we' Walter?" Michel deadpanned as he fidgeted with the now tie less shirt collar.

"Madelyn, your mother; Paul, your father; Elena your sister and her husband Mick…which by the way never understood that union…"

Michel interrupted, "I get it Walter everyone who seems to want to run my life."

"Worst yet", the old man again "Ms. Adrian has joined in the act and she told me it wouldn't be pretty if I didn't get you out of this funk."

"I see, so you are asking me to…" Michel again.

Walter interrupted once more "To not take sex away from me. Man, the old broad won't put out when she doesn't get her way." They both laughed and Michel said, "OK, tell Seymour and Adam they are to join me please."

Seymour and Jason Wolfe were Adrian and Walter's twin sons. Michel respected and genuinely liked Seymour, who had stayed in Abitibi and was Adam's life partner. Jason a pompous little snut who made fun of his brother's sexuality and tried to hit on every 'skirt' he saw was the bad seed of the Wolfe household.

Walter had said once arguing with Jason over Seymour "You are a little man up to your little brain." Turned to Michel and Adam who were present during the fight and addressing Adam said "It is true, Adam you are lucky, don't see this schmuck son of mine bringing anyone satisfaction, including himself."

Michel had sent Jason to head the Australian concern, the same one needing their help now. He thought separating the brothers would bode well on his own brother's loving relationship. Seymour and Adam would surely appreciate showing Jason off now that time had passed and they'd proven their worth.

Before Walter left to fetch Seymour and Adam he paused at the massive doors and turned to Michel "Son, who cares what anyone says, if what will bring you joy and fulfillment is Nikita Jones, go find her, bring her back. Everyone deserves to have their soul with them."

Michel looked up at his old friend and smiling sadly said "I've tried…perhaps it is time I tried again."

Walter smiled "You never give up in anything my boy, why are you doing it with your personal happiness?"

When Walter had finally closed the door Michel said, "Perhaps I am afraid…"

The ridiculously expensive, extremely comfortable, sinfully enjoyable 727 Jet the Abitibi Concern had purchase was making its way to Sidney Australia were the Company had its offices. Jason and his annoying wife Quinn ran the concern and were to be replaced now by the gay couple sharing the plane with Michel and sharing with the handsome man their desire to adopt a child and start a family. Michel was always moved to see how incredibly blissful Adam and Seymour were, the younger men were among Michel's favorite people. His little Sister Elena and her husband Mick were the other two, but those two were just plain hysterical, funny always laughing and still living in Abitibi. Adam and Seymour would be taking over in Australia and Jason and Quinn would be sent to the African concern, a move that would make everyone happy.

When they arrived in Sidney the three men decided to go to their respective suites, being quite discombobulated from the long flight, to rest before facing Jason and Quinn, "A winning combination" Adam had joked. Michel's beautiful appointed suite overlooked Sidney Harbour and the Opera House. The forlorn man turned on the television, sank the room into total darkness by closing the drapes, opened the minibar, removed a jar of Macadamia nuts and an Australian beer and proceeded to take off all his clothes.

Now laying naked on the massive bed, not having removed the covers, Michel switched from channel to channel like some…man, not allowing himself to see more than a glimpse and depressed the mute button. He didn't want to hear the accent which so reminded him of Nikita. Surprisingly, he fell into fistful slumber until he got the wake up call.

Michel dragged himself to the elegant marble bathroom, took a long hot shower and proceeded to shave at the sink. His handsome face reflected in the mirror showed signs of sleep depravation and incredible angst. He started to make a deal with himself when his eyes caught a glance at the muted television and the image of a woman being hulled off by the police.

Michel rushed into the room, but the story was finished, he fished for the remote to no avail. He hurried to the drapes, but when he finally had restored everything to normal, the story was long gone. Somehow in his haste he had switch the channel and now became despondent at the mess he'd made. The gorgeous strong man sat on the bed and wept, like he had 16 years before when they took Nikita. Michel composed himself, brought in the breakfast waiting by the suite door and proceeded to served himself coffee and croissant, looked up the Abitibi Concern lawyer's phone number in his PDA and placed a call asking for a meet at once. Michel was now posed and had a plan, it was time he thought with his head and not his heart and dick, as had been the case with this problem of the heart.

Grey Weldman and Helmut Volkner, Attorneys at Law were in awe of being called by Michel himself. The lawyers, who charged by the word, came armed with all kinds of ideas to pitch to the impassive man before them. He was in no mood to even be civil and quickly cut the chit chat and said, "I need for you to find someone I saw on TV tonight being taken by the police…" Michel finished providing them with Intel and sent them on their way to do his bidding.

Seymour and Adam had, by the time Michel contacted them, already spoken with Jason and Quinn who were ecstatic to pass Australia off to the gay couple and move to the South African concern were Quinn had her family and friends. The couple had called Michel and all four had met with him at the hotel. He didn't want to move awaiting the attorney's reply.

While waiting Michel thought he had seen Nikita getting into a limousine and had rushed through the lobby to find out he was wrong. He thought he had seen her in a volleyball tournament on the television at the bar, he was wrong. He thought he saw her walking a cocker spaniel by the grounds, he was wrong. He had to get a grip, so he picked himself up some company for the night, realizing this was wrong, he sent the disappointed woman packing.

And then the call came, the lawyers were on their way to the suite and Michel passed the suite, fidgeted with his chin, and pinched the crown of his nose. Weldman and Volkner finally arrived armed with a clip of the video and the arrested woman's file. It was not Nikita; Michel excused himself and went to the bathroom to throw up. After discussing business matters the attorneys left and Michel took out another beer from the minibar.

He now stood by the panoramic window overlooking Sidney Harbour; the hustle and bustle below somehow calmed the angst-ridden man as he realized he needed to approach his search calmly. He remembered a game he used to play "Where in the world is Carmen San Diego" and realized Nikita could be anywhere in the world, and using the same strategy as in the game he would find her…soon.

The business now took him into the interior of the country. Taking a Range Rover, no driver, he started map in hand to some remote area where the Company owned mines. He was enjoying the terrain and the surroundings, so different than his usual big city environment. He stopped in a town, one street, storefronts on both sides, fewer houses.

He found the storefront marked Bar/Restaurant and parked by a couple of kangaroos, which amused the French Canadian man. A strange feeling enveloped him; he couldn't pinpoint what it was and blamed it to feeling like he was back in Abitibi except for the Qualas and Emus.

The town was named after the mines - AtCon and the area existed only because of those mines. Taking the almost empty canteen from the back seat of the car and pouring the remaining water on his handkerchief, he placed the handkerchief on his neck to cool off; took a quick perusal of the storefronts looking for one reading "Hotel". Finding none, he decided he would ask at the Restaurant, which advertised the best ham sandwich in the area.

The 4 men and 2 women in the Bar were inspecting Michel when he entered the sparse, almost meager surroundings. He smiled and said to the man behind the counter, "May I have a beer and a ham sandwich please and could you tell me if there is a hotel nearby." Heavy French accent, khaki pants, black tee, black boots, leather jacket, Michel looked so touristy Vis a Vis the inhabitants of the Bar who were almost cartoonish in appearance.

"Here you go, sorry the beer is warm, but the sandwich, you'll see, it is the best," Belinda, a woman in her late 50s told him when she brought the food. He had already gotten from the other patrons the scoop on the only hotel, more of a Bed and Breakfast where the owner spoke French and was a charming woman. The owner had left moments before the handsome Frenchman had arrived, gone to Sidney on the bus. Belinda knew the B&B was opened.

Michel finished the sandwich and beer and realized the town people didn't have a clue about his ownership of the mines. Their knowledge reduced to just the fact they were working mines employing everyone in town and paying the bills. Michel accompanied by Belinda made his way to the B&B in the Rover. A mile or so of very dusty terrain gave access to an incredibly beautiful lush, green lawn surrounding a two story wooden house.

A windmill of sorts sat regally in the side yard, ruffling the leaves of the sunflower fields surrounding the house. Loud raucous music poured out of the building and the warmth of the sun seemed to envelope only that property. Belinda explained the problem the owners were facing, the Mines were moving to recoup the B&B, for the land belonged to AtCon.

Michel entered the B&B with a distinct feeling of déjà vu. The woman taking care of the place in the owner's absence was a plump local woman with a gold front tooth. "Wow, you are Mr. Samuelle ain't you?" Bertrile said, "Roberta went to Sidney to try to correct the problem with the land." Michel was surprised and so was Belinda.

"How do you know his name Bertty?" Belinda asked the nervous woman.

"Don't you watch CNN, for God sake Belle and Roberta is always saying she use to baby-sit for him."

Michel interrupted "Roberta Wirth?"

"Roberta Bower" the women said in unison.

"Oh God", Michel said and sat on a couch he remembered from his childhood. Michel had stolen his first kiss and had copped his first feel on this couch. The strange sensation he had been feeling since entering the town dissipated, he thought he had found Nikita. He said "Where is her daughter, where is Nikita?"

"Roberta and her daughter haven't spoken in years, that good for nothing husband of Roberta's made sure of it." Belinda answered the distant man.

"But wait, didn't she hear a couple of years back when she buried Perry that the girl was working in a new hotel by the Great Barrier Reef?" The chubby woman added, "Wait a minute, here… a post card signed N, she always keeps it by the Register."

"No this she got about a month ago when Nikita found out Perry had died." One of them said. "Oh yeah" added the other one.

Michel held the card like he would a work of art. He read and re-read the five lines or so and took in the picture of the beautiful underwater wonder. He asked for the phone and called his pilot speaking with the man in French. The handsome man then called his brother and ordered the land be deeded to Roberta and they were to call him as soon as the woman got picked up at the Bus Depot.

Michel thanked the women, he asked for and was granted the post card and he then moved to his car. He turned and waving to the women saying, "Roberta can keep the land and I'll also deed you both your land, thank you ladies." And with this he drove off to meet the chopper the company kept at the mine.

***

Michel Samuelle flew over the Great Barrier Reef in a helicopter sent by the Hotel that was his intended destination. His heart was lighter somehow, not a hopeless romantic the handsome man didn't expect Nikita to be penning for him as he did for her. However, he was sure the discomposure he constantly felt would cease once he saw her again. Time didn't heal all wounds; it made them magically not as painful.

The crystal clear water shimmering in the intense sunlight reminded Michel of Nikita's eyes as she described the feeling he had aroused in her as she reached orgasm for the first time in her young life. The reef, like a wall retaining the mighty waters at either side appeared calm when in fact they were raging. That view reminded Michel of the passion the blonde beauty had displayed and awoken in his 16-year-old body.

Michel, feeling he was reaching the end of some long journey of self-disclosure philosophized to his amazement, he never practiced this kind of poignant mastication.

He smiled at the sight of a pod of whales traveling lazily across the great waters and further up a group of dolphins playing, jumping, disappearing and reappearing again.

The Reef was alive and even from this distance the man could see this inconceivable bequest from nature. Michel had visited Australia before and the entire country amazed the gentle man, its vastness, its beauty, and its people. Michel could be ruthless, powerful, but he could also be very sensitive. And there before him the beautiful resort depicted in Nikita's postcard appeared. Michel was received as any other guest; except the wealthy man was staying in the Resorts poshest suite and as such the staff assigned to him were extraordinary. His 'suite', in a building containing just that space, had a wall-less side seemingly to float on the waters surrounding the horizon, a perfect view of the Great Barrier Reef.

He sat at a table contemplating the view and asked the bellboys who were finishing their set up. "Do either of you know Nikita Wirth?"

Both young men answered "No."

"Could you call the hotel manager for me please"? Thick accent requesting as Michel stepped into the bathroom to change into more appropriate clothing. Off came the brown suit he wore on came comfortable white shorts, navy bowling shirt, Top Sider boat shoes.

Within minutes a beautiful brunette woman knocked on the door. "Mr. Samuelle" the woman called "You asked to see me?" She was obvious and trying too hard and she somehow bothered Michel who shook her proffered left hand "Hello I am Lisa Fanning the resorts' day manager, how can I be of service." She wanted to add 'and you Sir are a fine specimen would you like a rump in the hay?'

Michel cleared his throat, after all the woman's pose allowed him a full view of her braless bosoms and the man was somehow turned off by this. "I am trying to find Nikita Wirth" he handed her the postcard "she sent this from here approximately a month ago." The postcard advised that she worked at the then new resort.

"Yes of course" Lisa replied, "Nikita is our pastry chef, but Wirth is no longer her last name."

Michel amended "Bauer --- Jones?"

"No as a matter of fact she spells it with two m's but it is the same as yours, Samuelle".

The apparent brunette flirtatiously answered.

Michel reigning in his nervousness said "Is she here now?"

"I don't know Mr. Samuelle, I can check if you so desire." She answered.

"No, I would like to surprise Ms. Samuelle, would you take me to the Pastry Kitchen please?" Michel let out a breath and followed the hotel manager out the door to a waiting golf cart. In quiet contemplation as the brunette chattered Michel berated himself and ignored Lisa's constant references as to the impropriety of having guests visit with the hired help.

The kitchen of the resort sat in a building separate from the rest. Enormous pristine stainless steel counters and appliances lined the walls and the middle of the space. Nikita's kitchen was in the extreme side of the building and although the staff worked in earnest mixing, blending and decorating scrumptious goodies, the Chef was not in the kitchen to supervise at this time.

Michel entered the small office while Lisa took care of some request by one of the regular chefs. He felt Nikita's essence, on the desk saw his picture from a magazine in a frame, his heart sang and he smiled. At least she thought of him, perhaps as much as he thought of her.

"Mykewl?" Nikita's voice was huskier but just as musical as he remembered. He turned to find the most beautiful sight he had seen in years. Her hair was down, long, blonder almost white and gleamed looking healthy. She was a woman, a beautiful feminine creature.

"You are be-au-ti-ful." Michel said in hush tones, almost praying.

She was wearing red shorts, white off the shoulder tank top, which allowed a sliver of perfectly flat stomach to show; a belly button ring winked at Michel. Feet clad with strappy red flat sandals. She wore just a hint of lipstick, no other make up and she looked positively superlative. "Oh my God, it is you." Her blue eyes dueling with his green ones.

Michel shortened the distance between them with two strides, he hugged her to him without saying a word and he let out a long breath he had been holding for years. Kissing the top of her head he whispered "God Kita I have been desperately looking for you." He then separated from the beautiful woman and he wiped her tears with a smile that reached his eyes.

"You look…WOW." She said as she examined the man before her. "How did you find me?" She was nervously laughing, playing with his lip, like she had done so long before.

"You are still my wife Kita, why didn't you contact me?" He told her embracing her again and this time tentatively kissing her.

Lisa cleared her throat and said, "I see you've found each other." She sounded annoyed after all she had envisioned somehow roping the rich gorgeous Frenchman.

"Oh Ms. Fanning, this is…"

Lisa interrupted Nikita "I know Michel Samuelle. But Ms. Samuelle you know the rules, no visitors, no fraternizing with the guests…"

"Michel and I are from the same town in Canada, we have known each other forever." Nikita added.

"Oh you are not French Monsieur Samuelle?" Lisa continued ignoring the blonde and addressing Michel directly.

"No, as Nikita said I am French Canadian, Nikita and I were separated when we were in our early teens and here I am. If you don't mind Ms.could we possibly be alone for a few minutes. We really need to address a few things and I have traveled so far."

Michel was not releasing his hold on Nikita and seductively asking Lisa, winking at the end of his request. The old adage you get more flies with honey…coming to his mind.

"Well Mr. Samuelle this is highly…" Nikita who had been a thorn in the side of the brunette and vice versa and who had endured enough of the woman's incessant repetition of the 'rules' interrupted.

"Well Lisa, I quit, there… the end of the problem." Nikita looked from the stunt brunette to the smiling man, kissed him on the lips and said, "May I have my things sent to your suite?" She said this hesitantly for fear she had overstepped her bounds.

"By all means. Ms. Fanning could you have Mrs. Samuelle's things moved to our suite and add her name to the Registry. Mrs. Samuelle, this time spell it right, only one m." Michel said pulling Nikita out of the tiny office unto the outside of the building. Once outside he grabbed her and gave her the most resounding kiss either of them had received in a long time.

Their tongues stroking each other, their hands touching, feeling, kneading, their mouth's making sucking, loving sounds a perfect compliment to their feelings. The scene was entirely one of lust and absolutely pornographic for her hands were inside his shorts and Michel had gone commando.

***

Nikita and Michel rushed by golf cart to a Moped rental place then downtown were Nikita finally stopped smiling and asked the man she had been hugging while riding the Moped "Were are we going?" Michel had parked in front of a string of stores.

"To make it official, you are my wife, I want to renew our vows, this time with a priest in a church." He told her chewing on her lip and holding her hands to his heart. "Oh, I am sorry, am I presu…"

She smiled, licked his tongue with hers and he sucked it into his mouth, she made a little happy sound and said "You haven't changed much, not sure of me?" She stopped looked at him while holding his chin in a caress. "Michel I took your name. The marriage to me was real." And she showed him his ring, still on her finger, a sizing bar replacing the scotch tape.

He smiled and said, "Kita I don't think we should be wearing shorts."

"Michel last time after the wedding we were wearing nothing, this will be fine, let's find a priest." And now conspirationally "I have been practicing, have gotten better."

He slapped her behind "You have, have you?"

"Well I kept on reading about my husband's antics and I had…" Her joke was interrupted by the richest kiss.

"Why didn't you contact me?" He said seriously now.

"I was afraid of Bauer, all the money, he would have…"

He interrupted "I'm sorry, it's alright Kita I don't have a right or the desire to hatch anything up. I never stopped looking for you, loving you."

"Michel I never even contacted my mother until I found out Perry had died." Nikita said crying this time. Nikita and Michel had been holding each other, stroking tenderly and basically in physical contact since they had crossed paths again.

"Your mother will be fine, I have taken care of it." He held her hand and started walking. "You know Kita men have over 400 sex thoughts a day…at least 398 of mine included you." He said hugging her tightly by her waist now, his tongue darting out every other word to touch her perfect ear.

****

While they found the church, made the arrangements, talked to the priest and a local justice of the peace Nikita and Michel caught up with their lives. The ceremony was short and sweet; they had bought clothing on Michel's insistence and lots of gardenias Nikita's favorite.

She wore a short white summer crisp linen dress, white straw hat that made her look much younger than her 30 years. White sandals now adorned her feet, still just little lipstick and no other make-up. He wore black slacks, a white linen guayabera and black sandals; this was after all a tropical place.

In the moment of the ceremony when the rings are exchanged she smiled and handed him his graduation ring sans the sizing bar. Michel brought out the most beautiful eternity band and whispered "I've been carrying this forever." They both cried for the inscription inside both rings somehow matched, their names and the date of their wedding 16 years before.

The little Catholic Church sat on a hill overlooking the magnificent sea below. The priest was ever so gracious and became even more so when Michel very generously donated money to the church fund. Their contribution would pay for the new roof they so badly needed the old cleric had told Michel.

Father Weldon had brought out wine and cheese after the ceremony. The priest was discussing the advantages to leading a church like Our Mother of Mercy rather than having a big congregation in a large city. Here everything was laid back. The town's only photojournalist who Michel had hired for the occasion took loads of photos of the couple.

After a while the couple said good-bye and hand in hand they headed in a taxi back to the hotel, having long before returned the rented Moped. Michel's head was reeling; who would have thought this soon his life would change so drastically. She was herself amazed at the turn of events; one minute you hate your job next you marry a hunk.

They arrived at the suite and Nikita let out a long whistle, "Geez Michel, do you think is big enough." On the bar they found tropical drinks with umbrellas and cut up tropical fruit, Nikita took a drink. He grabbed her by the waist drawing her to him in a swift move. Her hips flush against his very intense arousal. "Mmm, do you want my cherry?"

He smiled "Wait here." She let out a frustrated sigh and walked to the wall-less side to peer at the view. Quickly he returned "I carry this with me always." And proceeded to show her the drawing she had left which now was in a lovely leather-folding frame with their initials intertwined. "My sister Elena did this about 10 years back, she was tired of seeing me carry this folded in my wallet."

Nikita was now sobbing; again Michel drew her to him and kissed her hard. "First the wedding dinner." He said and smiled moving to the phone to order room service.

"Wait, let me", she called the kitchen and talking to her pals requested a sumptuous typical meal, prepared to the max, after all this was the pastry chef's wedding dinner.

By the time the meal arrived the couple had started playing the seduction game they so desperately had yearned for. He had kissed her, groped her through her clothing and acted like the 16 year old. They had laughed, reminisced and made each other hornier than they'd ever been.

They had fed each other, drank too much champagne and feasted on one of the last deserts prepared by Nikita - a white chocolate moose cake which the staff had topped with a tiny wedding couple made of marzipan. They decided to take the after dinner drinks in the bedroom and dismissed the servers with a wink, a large tip and a smile from the groom.

The bride had retired to the bedroom; the bed seemed to float in the ocean for the bedroom had no wall on that side either. She wore a white thong and thigh high white stockings. Michel let out a sigh and proceeded quickly to disrobe himself. "No stop, let me do it - slowly," mocking his request of so long ago.

Instinctively Nikita moved to Michel, keeping herself at arms length to be able to enjoy the seduction. Michel stood still, hands dangling next to his body, mouth open a bit, gasping softly at the sensation this lovely creature was searing in him while tenderly disrobing her groom.

"Sometimes we must take what we can," she was saying as they played an ancient game with their hands. They were softly stroking, feeling, holding arms, hands and fingers that were their fascination at the moment. "And the passion of the moment long ago has carried me here. Thank you my sky, my piece of heaven for keeping your promise. I love you." Stroke, kiss, grasp.

And the lovemaking ensuing was adult, mature; more relaxed but yet just as desperate. His total devotion to bring his bride joy and pleasure was made possible relieving her desperate need for him. She had survived all the years of terror and loneliness by the promise of this man - they would be together some day.

"Mmm-ik…" Nikita cried out while her groom used some of those skills he had developed through the years. He was mercilessly licking Nikita's engorged lips purposely ignoring the rest of her so to hear her wanton pleas.

"Humh?" Michel answered concentrating on the very small spances of skin.

"Did - mmmhhh - missssssss - oh damn - Micccchaaaelll" Nikita said and reached orgasm.

"Humh?" Michel this time chuckling at the lack of restrain in the wild woman he was so happily making love to.

"What is so funny?" Panting and whining she asked, furthering "Pay back is a BBBITCH."

"I love you Ni-ki-ta," the gorgeous man whispered as he seriously now moved up to lie over her spread eagle form. Her legs parted, her arms above her head; he fastened himself to her waiting breasts and suckled with the same devotion a hungry babe would.

She was thrashing her head back and forth like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and chanting a mantra like Elena when she pretended to be a follower of the Dahli Lama "Mmm-Mmm-Mmm." Completely unable to make a coherent sound the blonde concentrated on breathing, she was sure she was loosing consciousness at his ministrations.

Michel was in a devised plan mapping her body with his tongue. Every inch of skin was being licked, bit or kissed by the patient man, who was glad his patience was legendary among his business adversaries. His arousal rod beating an ancient tune against any part of the laconic blonde it came in contact with. And in contact with her he came. Michel made sure his body touched her and with the hands she had fought for him to release, she touched his other parts her body couldn't reach. They were one, literality and emotionally. They were kissing, caressing, stroking, touching, licking, biting, enveloping and satiating each other's beings.

Nikita again, in an attempt to make him understand, "Mi-ch-a-el please, pleezze."

She begged, he grunted, "Shh, shh." The international sound for 'hush up' creating the most exquisite feeling.

"Mi-ch…" she said as she reached orgasm again, incredible seismic shudders racking her frame and in turn his.

He laughed and looked at her closed eyes, disheveled hair, hands digging into the pillow above her head and kissed-swollen mouth in a perfect round 'O'. Michel had never seen a more beautiful sight "I said not yet Ni-ki-ta." Distracted and letting go of her hands the blonde flipped him and now he lay beneath her.

She looked into his eyes, a feral smile, "I said yes now Mi-ch-a-el" and quickly sat on her very aroused groom. "I've always loved you sooooo muchhhh!" One long word, one long sound LOVE.

"Mmm" he said, "I give up…pant pant grunt…"

This order was redundant; the blonde was Roy Rogers and Michel Trigger. She laughed as he mirrored her desperate state from before and she also saw the most magnificent sight beneath her. His hands were concentrating on her hips, holding them hard to steer her movements to his outmost pleasure. He had yet to make one single correction for she was as intune with his passion as he was with hers and he had joined her letting out little disjointed purrs.

She lost concentration and found it hard to be focused where this act was concerned and so he now flipped her. He turned her on her stomach in one graceful move, like if he was dealing with a rag doll, no bones and he brought her to her knees, both now facing the back of the bed and a mirror they had not noticed before.

Nikita on her hands and knees, perfect behind proudly raised, her gaze drunk but affixed on the man who, himself on his knees, was approaching her slowly, full of arrogance, and rightly so. In a haughty display of ownership the groom's thick French Accent commanded, "Now sit on me." And kissed her soft cheeks, first her left, then her right, quickly licking the scrape of his beard with a grunt to her whimpering cries "Mykewl."

Nikita lowered herself to Michel's lap; he was sitting on his legs, which were folded beneath him. She was centered on his lap her long legs wrapped back side by side with Michel's hairy ones. The feel was incredible, they both smiled at the sight, it was difficult to conceive how they could achieve this position, never mind maintain it, or less yet enjoy it like they were.

Michel was massaging and tweaking at his wife's breasts, he was softly kissing her exposed neck, her mouth and her ears. He was inching his way down her body with excruciating tactile stimuli and she was lost to the sensation, lost to the moment, lost and yet found. "Kita, please my love watch our reflection, don't close your eyes, move slowly in circles…that's it agonizingly slow, let's make this union last…"

The lovers were… dancing. Their moves choreographed by Michel's lithe sensuality; with all the lovers he had, all the times he had sex, all his experiences he had never felt like he felt at this moment in time. The sheer joy being created by this union was more than his heart could stand, he was sure he would die if Nikita ever again left his enclosed arms.

"I love you Kita," he simply said although with the speech impediment of a man in paradise.

"Michel" she was looking at his reflected eyes in the mirror and Nikita saw devotion, peace, love and trust reflected in the turbulent green peering back from the looking glass, "I have loved you since the first memory I have of you." Dance, dance, dance.

"When was your first mmm-e-mory of me Kita?" He was floating in a sea of ecstasy and every once in a while it threatened to pull him under. So he would reign in his release.

"You were six, I was four and I remember telling awful Karyn," She was telling him, every other word shuttering her eyes, "that you were mine."

With the secret intimacy passed on to the thirsty man Nikita uncovered the pent up passion of 16 years. No longer in control, no longer wanting to wait, no longer caring for anything but his release he said "Mon Dieu Kita, don't… just feel, it is going to get rough, I need you too much."

Michel disengaged the two bodies; Nikita felt like a sexual plaything being used to gratify each partner, she was a bunch of nerve ending or a bunch of electric cables, full of charge and waiting to explode. The groom carried his bride to a standing position on the floor in front of the mirrored closet door. He threw her against the cold reflection of her back and wrapping her legs around his waist, entered her with a savage thrust.

He was sure he had ripped her apart, he would worry about this later; she had nodded her consent and her acceptance with a saturated cry. "HARDER, MICHEL, HARDER"

He has moving like one of those rotary tools which drill on concrete, his breaths coming out in grunts, hers in gasps. She felt his tears wetting her shoulder for the absolute enjoyment of this act was tugging at his emotions, making him dissolve with desire, joy and fulfillment.

"Merde Kita, ma belle, baby I am coming." His whispered confession half in French, half in English. He stabbed her hard, deep, thrusting with his being once, twice and on the third glorious plunge he felt her inner walls collapse around him.

Their eyes met, still embedded in each other and their tears of joy reflected their completion. "Merci, je t'adore avec tout mon coeur." Michel whispered into her ear and kissed the shell with such tenderness as if it was made of the finest porcelain.

She stood and he slipped out, laying her head against his powerful chest while his hands shrouded her completely she smirked "So, are you still studying the Kama Sutra?"

They laughed and Michel picked her up and carried her to the patio where the suite had its own heated pool where tropical flower petals floated and candles lit the perimeter. Marvelous scenery, warm tropical breezes, chilled champagne, soft cushioned iron furniture in calm white tones. Lights shining sparsely in the horizon, but the sky was covered in twinkling lights, stars, planets, comets, all like Christmas lights illuminating the stillness of the Universe.

He put her down on a lounge and with mastery and grace dove into the awaiting pool. She smiled, ran to the pool and jumped in "Cannon Ball" making a splash and sending water flying everywhere. He laughed and was surprised by the sound, "God Kita, I have not really laughed or wanted to laugh in so long I didn't recognize the sound."

They were floating on the warm water moving around in circles and Michel held on to the side with his folded arms behind his head. She took the hint and swam between his legs, nude body against nude body.

Michel's erection seemed to have been surgically implanted, for it never went away. She enjoyed under the coolness of the water, holding to this magic rod as if it were a security blanket of sorts. She needed to keep contact with the man so he would not disappear again.

"Are you aware I have never loved anyone else? You spoiled me for the rest of mankind, your hushed tones and your accent drilled into my subconscious to be dragged out every time I was to perform this act. You were always with me." The confessions of a love starved woman.

"Kita" he worshiped "I was so desperate for you I started seeing you in every corner in every face. I went as far as hiring private investigators, checking public records, bribing Immigration officials, I ran the gamut. I came close to marrying, my parent's wishes, she unfortunately died, but I don't think I would have carried through. I felt married to you all these years." He offered, kissing her mouth and wrapping his strong legs around her floating lower body.

"Michel, I felt the same way. A friend, a female friend, once asked me how could I be such a fool and showed me the magazine picture you saw on my desk. The article talked about your upcoming nuptials and how the women of the jet set were going to miss their "stud." Nikita continued and kissed him hard now. "So, I stopped speaking with her. No one was going to convince me you had stopped loving me."

"Kita" he kissed her again licking her lips in a sensually smooth and slow move. "I never stopped loving you and I will never stop - you are my heart."

He got out of the pool in one swift move, resting on the edge he plucked her out, sitting her on his laps, both sets of legs dangling in the pool water. "Want to go in?" He asked licking the water droplets off her susceptible skin.

"Mmm" she answered, "do you know what I want now?"

"More unbridled sex?" He laughed over her flushed skin "I have surpassed the 400+ rule today."

"To sleep wrapped around my husband, without the fear anyone will stop us this time." She finished.

So obediently and reverently he carried her towel wrapped body into the carpeted floor in front of the fireplace, threw pillows on the floor and cocooned her body with his, stroking her arm and whispering "Kita, at last my love, we are home."

Nikita entered the room to find him lying on his back face to the side, resting his cheek to the white linen pillowcase. She noticed his eyes fixed on some distance place, green the color of the finest emerald - flawless, the contrast with his dark eyebrows, eyelashes and tumbled hair creating an ethereal vision. The pad of his thumb he rested against his pearl white teeth, moved her to distraction. Nikita had never seen a more beautiful creature in her life and whispered to herself, but he heard her, "God exceeded his magic with him."

"I heard that. God broke the mold, knocked it out of the park, got a hole in one with you my dear - you are exquisite." He added sitting up and exposing his sculptured perfect chest.

"Michel, do you remember long ago I asked you to look in the mirror. You are magnificent, right now when I was looking at you my heart literary stopped, how could someone so beautiful exist. The memory of your eyes kept me going all these years, your being here is perhaps too much…" and she started to cry.

Michel extended his arms out calling to her. She came and he enveloped her in his strong muscular arms. He kissed her head, her forehead, her cheek and holding her beautiful face in his hands he told her, "I would give all my wealth, my health and my life if it would mean that I could be with you for the rest of my life and beyond. I love you Kita, I need you my wife, and I never plan to be away from you. Tomorrow we go into Section One, Abitibi Concern Enterprises' headquarters in Brussels, all arrangements have been made and you will be my second in command."

"Me? Michel all I know how to do is bake cakes, how…" she nervously said. He smiled, kissed her on the lips and swatted her exposed backside "I have command Kita and I have made a decision, enough on the subject. There you will learn, you will train and continue to make cakes if you wish. Now, thank you for that wake up call, can we continue this in the bathtub?

He kissed her hard, flipped her on her back, embraced the body beneath and entered her to witness a shared indescribable release. Bath forgotten for the time being, sated sleep beckoning they slept peacefully afterward. And nestled in each other's arms, the young couple had come a long way, but each had remained a section of each other, they had remained one.

And Barry Manilow playing in the background sang the anthem they had shared in abstencia, "Even now that I have come so far, I wonder where you are, I wonder why it's been so hard without you. Even now when I come shining through I swear I think of you and how I wish you knew, Even Now."

Fini for now, let us leave the Samuelle's alone to enjoy their bliss and honeymoon in private. We shall visit again soon….