NC-17
Alternate Universe

Non Section Nikita meets Michael in the North of Spain

The beautiful scenery Michael Samuelle encountered in the North of Spain lent credence to what he had envisioned. The surf breaking mercilessly against the rocky seashore spilling its foamed waves unto the stark caramel sand, tried to catch the fauna littering the coast. Barbaric force spilled by Mother Nature unto a serene environment fastidiously breaking into the young man's psyche; with eyes fixed he emptied the content of the urn he'd been clutching to his broad chest.

Letting out a long sigh he murmured "Good Bye", said a short prayer with hurried breaths and whispered "Amen". Turning he assuredly stepped off the slick flat rock he had been standing on and walked peacefully through the sandy shore to were his gear awaited. Approaching the Range Rover he turned and taking aim at nowhere in particular, pitched the brassy urn with the precision of a major league baseball player. The urn, empty now, landed on the water making not a splash except in Michael Samuelle's soul.

Michael's trip unto the village was made in a silence only disturbed by the string quartet playing on the cd. His mind filled with memories, his eyes on the road looking for confirmation of his route and seeing not a soul. He finally arrived at the Village of San Juan Bosco one of the quaintest of 16th Century wonders; at least that is what he'd been told by the woman Michael had just helped send to meet her maker, his wife Simone.

In broken Basque Michael tried to ask the innkeeper about his reservations, he was exhausted both physically and mentally and needed to find a place to lay his weary head. The man in indecipherable English explained the Posada de Pablo El Apostol had no such reservation and no rooms available due to the Feria de San Antonio.

A sprawling edifice, as compared to the entire village surrounding it, the Inn was a former garret brought up to 21st Century standards without touching its historic façade. It was filled to capacity because of the famous fair held every year on the week of June 12th in honor of Saint Anthony the patron saint of single women looking to be married.

The innkeeper's wife, a softic woman in her early sixties, explained this to Michael gesticulating in an exaggerated fashion as if the hand and body language would gap the language barrier and make her point clearer. The handsome Frenchman listened carefully to the woman and willed his quick mind to grasp the situation. Her voice increased in volume the more exasperated she got.

Michael had tried speaking in Portuguese, French, English, Italian and of course Spanish to no avail. He berated himself for not having mastered the Basque tongue remembering he'd never had use for it before. "I was looking forward to a soft bed." He spoke in German to no one in particular, hoping the Innkeepers would understand and take pity of his predicament. He heard a little voice say in English; "You could stay with Nikita" it was a girl of maybe 6 "she'll help you".

Michael's demeanor changed, a person he could understand had come to his aid, "Is this another hotel in town? Where is this Ni-ki-ta?" The handsome man was elated and the little girl was awestruck at his remarkable face. "Can you take me there now?"

"No hotel," the little girl added "she is just nice, from Australia, that is a country, an island and a continent, she is a Doctor and a girl, just like me." The little girl babbled on while grabbing the tall man's hand and pulling him towards his Range Rover. In Basque she addressed her grandmother and told her, Michael guessed, she would be back shortly.

The road Michael had traveled before continued bordering the shoreline, its potholes and non-paved portions fighting the smooth ride of the Range Rover, he was content. Michael wondered what Angel had received its wings after coloring the sky and sea around him. Sticking his head out the window of the moving car he yelled "Precioso", the girl laughed, "You are funny." She added.

The little girl yelled, "Pare..." And Michael stepped on the breaks thinking he was about to hit something. When the SUV came to a stop she jumped limberly out of the car like only a 6 year old could and ran enthusiastically down a gravel road opening a gate for Michael to enter. He drove through, she ran in front of the car.

"I have entered Paradise" Michael whispered to himself and made sure he drove slowly down the path leading to a wooden cottage all painted white in severe contrast to the blue that encircled it. The little girl yelled, this time louder "Nikita were are you? Nikita! Hi Pooper were is the Babe" addressing a white and tan Cocker Spaniel laying by the door moving his rump with glee before jumping unto the girls open arms.

*********

"What is it Tatiana, I am in the clinic, what is it?" A disembodied husky Aussie accented voice came from the back of the building closer to the beach delimiting the perimeter. Michael was stepping out of the vehicle when he first got a glimpse of the Doctor. His heart no longer as heavy as when he stood on the cliff bidding farewell to his beloved Simone.

A woman in her mid 20s, tall, lanky with wheat color long hair wearing a white lab coat over a pair of shorts and a light blue tee came out of the door. Michael smiled at the beauty; her eyes were the color of the sky, her skin tan, her body thin and athletic but definitely all woman and her smile lit up the bright sun. She was laughing at the sight of the girl with the dog, and drying her hands with a lemon yellow towel. Wearing no shoes, her hair in a long ponytail held in place by a white bow.

She looked up at him and gasped 'Wow, ethereal' she said out loud. There in front of her stood the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His shoulder length hair sparkled with copper colored highlights was a riot of curls he obviously wanted to tame but couldn't. His eyes the color of the fresh cut grass laying on the portal to remind Nikita of home; his smile filled his eyes, his lips were lush and she wanted to kiss them....'Stop' she thought 'did I say that out loud too?'

He looked down at the girl averting his eyes not to further embarrass the crimson colored beatific face before him. She cleared her throat and extending her hand, thus handing him the towel she laughed and said "Hi I am Nikita Wirth." Her long legs moving back and forth overtly showed through the open lab coat, they seemed to go on forever.

"Michael Samuelle", he stated taking the damp towel and folding it just to hand it back to her. Moving what Nikita could see as powerful and muscular legs clad in tight faded blue jeans he shorten the distance between them. The blonde's perusal of the man continued and she discovered his strong pecks underneath his white cotton tee shirt, a silver short chain with a cross hanging from his neck and his feet covered in black hiking boots. He smelled of expensive cologne and his eyes sparkled and danced.

Michael was annoyed at the moment. The blonde was overtly flirting with him and he was not in the mood. Simone, his sainted wife had only been dead 2 years to the day. She had been Michael's foundation and raison d'être. He couldn't move forward and forget so quickly, he had just scattered her ashes for heaven's sake. He was conflicted. Or could he just be committing the exact sin his parents allotted 'Emotional Masturbation.'

"Mama couldn't find Michael's reservation and he'll have to sleep in the car tonight..." the little girl pleaded his case while Michael's intense gaze moved lazily from Nikita's eyes to her lips to her hair to her lips, and continued this exercise etching her beauty in his memory. "Tatiana said that perhaps you could put me up, I'll pay, whatever it takes."

'O God' she thought 'to add insult to injury a French accent' and she smiled a toothy smile saying "Nonsense, mi casa es su casa. Tell me Michael where are you from, is that a French accent I hear...?

Michael ever the gentleman took both her hands in his and said, "Yes, Marseilles by way of Lyon, I already know you are Australian." He kissed her hands with his full-bodied lips and bowed a bit - then let go. Nikita thought her bones had disappeared, she was rubbery and not too steady; she closed her eyes to defy the feeling this man brought out.

To the Australian commentary the little girl clarified, "It is an island, a country and a continent." Michael and Nikita both laughed and the blonde said "Bring your bags I have to put you up in my house if you don't mind, the cottage is full of boxes containing old patient files, I need to clean those out some day." She realized she was blathering.

Michael said "Oh no, I don't want to put you out."

"No problem, please come in." She said giving him access to the most beautiful, charming little cottage by the sea, all done in blues, whites and yellows and filled to the brim with flowers and plants. "Sorry, it is a jungle in here, but I can't have the plants outside, the sea air kills them. How long are you going to be staying?"

"No apologies, I feel I am intruding in your repose as it is." He gallantly stated while taking in the spectacular view both outside the panoramic window and inside - the blonde. Michael's feelings wagering a war no sense would win.

"Don't you say that again, I hope you came to stay longer than a week, I could use some help around the house." She saucily smiled, he melted like the Wizard of Oz' Wicked Witch of the West. Michael was captivated by her smile and everything else that was the blonde. He was sure he needed to remind himself to breath in and out. "Just a week."

The little girl, still playing with Pooper, looked up at Nikita, then at Michael and back at the blonde. A proper voice, full of English gentility came from the door "You better hide him Nikita, he is gorgeous and the hamlet is full of hungry women."

"Babushka, when did you get back?" Nikita sang running towards the elderly woman.

"We arrived last night. I could hear Tatiana all the way to my house, crossed the road and here we are" the beautiful woman answered as a bandana and ponytail wearing older man pranced into the house singing "It's still rock and roll to me." Michael assumed they were married because the man kissed the woman and pinched her butt.

"Hey Sugar, did San Antonio answer your prayers?" The elderly man whispered to Nikita as he kissed her cheek and winked at the stranger.

"Walter, you are incorrigible, I missed you two so much." Turning to the smiling French man, "Michael Samuelle meet Walter and Adrian Jones, my neighbors and family."

"A pleasure" said Michael and kissed the woman's hand; when he attempted to shake Walter's hand the older man pulled him into an unexpected bear hug.

"She is like a daughter to us, if you hurt her in anyway I'll ..." Walter stopped mid sentence looked up at the surprised man he'd been hugging, released him and said "Michael Samuelle, as in Fortune 500, Richest Man, world renown, business tycoon, philanthropist, widower - Michael Samuelle - Mr. '.com'?

Michael's lip quirked in a hint of a smile and embarrassed said, "Yes."

Nikita and Adrian looked stunned at Walter who let out a long whistle and said not another word, dropping resoundedly unto the couch. The older woman heard the entire tirade; the blonde heard only 'widower'.

"Please, you can imagine the reason why I travel incognito, not many people know my face" looking at the beautiful blonde aghast mouth, with apologetic eyes he continued "I guess I'll go, I am sorry" he repeated and started to grab his valises.

"Don't you dare leave now Mister Samuelle, when you were homeless I took you in, well what difference does it make who you are, your reservations are still MIA." Nikita retorted. "Walter Adrian, let me explain, Michael here was brought by Tatiana" everyone turned to look at the little girl romping on the sandy shore with the dog. "It seems her parents messed up Michael's reservation and he had no place to stay."

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to create such a problem". Michael repeated, still holding his valises and looking solely at the blonde beauty standing by the picture window overlooking the ocean behind them.

"Nonsense, Michael, may I call you this?" Walter said and Michael nodded. "If the Doc here didn't want to take you in we would have, this is the way things are done here. We'll forget who you are, if you forget who we are." Walter added conspirationally and smiling.

At this point Michael learned Walter and Adrian were retired Counter Intelligence Agents from Canada and England who had settled in this remote region with the sole purpose of starting a new life. Nikita was a retired Australian psychologist who had hit the Irish Sweepstake and settled in this peaceful part of the world. Michael was happy this was all established and they continued talking, eating Tapas and drinking cold sweet Sangria until 9:00 pm rolled around.

Tatiana had been picked up by her father hours before. Walter had shown Michael their house and joked he would be better off with them. Michael had laughed saying he sorely doubted it given the blonde's magnificence. Nikita had shown Michael to his room, the one across from hers. The Frenchman's charms had completely captivated the ravishing beauty with a heart of 24 karat gold and enthralled everyone else.

They were about to excuse Michael so he could go take a shower and rest; when Adrian spoke. "We'll go home then Niki, why don't you two go into town after you are refreshed and see what this festival is all about; it is fun to see how it is set up. Take this woman for a good meal Michael; this Tapas stuff is hardly filling."

Walter piped in "And she can show all those town bitties she can trap a good catch."

Nikita and Adrian simultaneously and mockingly hit the old man; Michael said, "I have qualms about this beauty not having her share of beaus."

Nikita smiled at him, Adrian said "Good for you Michael." And Walter just laughed as he grabbed his wife's hand and headed home.

****

The beautiful blonde turned to Michael, he was leaning by the panoramic window watching the scenery, or so she thought. He was actually following her with his gripping stare through her reflection in the glass. Michael felt a warm feeling of excitement and he worried it showed, which it did, he was feeling emotions he was not ready to deal with. It had been a long couple of years, all through Simone's drawn out illness, since Michael had fulfilled his emotional and physical needs, he was drained.

"I am sorry there is only one bathroom Michael, we better set some rules about this right now." She said, he nodded, "I am a woman so you go first, I'll take twice as long with my make-up..." he interrupted her, she strained to hear his soft melodic voice "You don't need make-up, you are perfect."

Nikita blushed and dropped the lab coat she was taking off, she was fumbling for words and actions, the man was a freaking magnet. "T-t-thanks, but really..." Tilting her head, heat pouring out of her wobbly body she continued, "It is the door at the end of the hall."

With this Nikita turned and left the room, entered the bathroom closing the door behind her and wept. He had made her loose her balance and she was afraid. She wanted desperately to drape herself around this man and loose all consciousness from his caress. So she climbed into the antique bear clawed tub, took her modern shower massager and gratified herself, orgasmic in a matter of minutes and feeling worse than when she had started. "$hi+t, $hi+t, $hi+t" she mumbled.

Outside in the hall Michael thought he heard her moaning and then cursing; entering his room he threw himself on the bed, instantly falling asleep. His dreams started like always Simone dying and then took the form of the siren outside his door. In this condition he could smell her perfume, taste her skin, possess her in the most erotic ways... and he moaned as he grabbed the hand touching his face.

His eyes opened, it was Nikita clad in a white terry robe, hair pilled on top of her magnificent head, and scrubbed face. "Hi" he said, she was speechless and too close to the striking man before her to hide her interest. Her body reacted and she felt the blush on her cheeks. His hard body also responded and he could feel the stirring deep within.

She cleared her throat. "The bathroom is all yours." She said letting out a sigh, which sent more want through the man holding her hand. "You can let go now." She stood walking out of the room with her hand outstretch behind as he held on for as long as the distance would allow. Finger pads caressing finger pads. Nikita was conflicted, he was sending mix signals and she needed to get a clear sign. Michael's long intense sigh was it; she smiled and caressed her fingers with her mouth.

Michael walked calmly to the bathroom; he'd placed his shaving kit by the sink hours before. Nikita's bathroom was a study in femininity. All the towels, the round shower curtain, the window curtains and the shelves were white with pink and trimmed in lace. The faucets were new, but reproductions, as were the commode and bidet.

The sink and the tub were antique porcelain with embossed rose buds. The walls were covered in wood painted a pallid white and the enormous mirror matched the antique furniture holding the sink. On one end an armoire also an antique, served as the linen closet and was filled to the brim with thick towels and toiletries of all types. Afoot a beautiful hand knotted rug in the shape of an enormous pink rose; white and pink candles and roses gave the room a romantic aromatic air.

Michael smiled as he disrobed, he noticed she had placed three towels, one of which was enormous, and a thick terry cloth robe under his shaving kit; he turned the faucets to very cold and bathed quickly. The crystal chandelier hanging over the tub conjured up a picture of the owner of the house initiating a chain reaction in his body and he quickly ejaculated, cursing in his native French.

***

He now crouched by the chimney stoking out a fire that was about gone. Wearing a black pair of jeans that looked and felt extremely expensive, his powerful torso was clothed in a sweater as black as the pants, boots and sports jacket, all by Versace. He smelled of Cabouchon for Men and looked, in his clean-shaven controlled hair persona, as Michelangelo's David with an attitude. Oh, and he was going commando.

Michael felt her before she spoke; his groin tightened and he stopped breathing. He could smell her Joy perfume and could hear her skirt - swooshing. He almost fainted when she spoke, standing next to him in an indescribable dress of gauzier fabric in the deepest midnight blue which shimmered like the sky outside the window.

He was thinking he didn't need complications, but he did need to relax and relief the need he'd carried for over two years. Like any red-blooded male, he needed to get laid. She stood awfully close to the now standing man and smiled, "Would you finish zipping me please, I always have trouble with this dress."

Michael smiled, "I have no trouble with it though, you are beautiful." He made this statement while complying with her request and zipping the Mission Statement - this was more than a dress. The Dior length skirt served as host to the tight bodice cut to the tops of her breast in a square neckline and dipping to her waist in the back. She wore her hair loose, tiny sapphire earrings, nothing else.

He finished with the zipper on the skirt and stroked his left hand up her bare back, sending shivers up and down both bodies. Michael was in seduction mode, without realizing it or remembering how it was done. He smiled at the thought that Seduction 101 was like riding a bike, you never forgot how after you mastered it.

Michael had been a player before meeting Simone five years before. He had just started his '.com' business and was making money hand over fist and getting every beauty he could ever want to satisfy his every whim. He was drinking too much and partying hardier and the magnificent Oriental beauty had grounded him and made his world faultless.

Nikita purposely fixed her thigh high stockings and the tiny ankle bracelet shimmered like the skirt. She was bent at the waist and Michael could imagine how much damage he could do from that position. She proceeded to adjust the ankle strap of the navy spiked heel shoes, first one foot then the other, making the poor Frenchman sweat from the view.

Nikita was now eye to eye with Michael. His mind racing, he thought how convenient this height coincidence would be if and when they got into a passionate position. To her, who was horny as all devils, Michael had become a goal. Nikita had not been with a man in over 3 years herself.

She had won the Sweepstakes together with her friend and had left an abusive relationship with a man twice her age. The blonde beauty had cried and sworn off men "What are they good for anyway" she had said, "you can get sex from a shower massager" and she bought herself one. . To have him in her bed if just for one night, or one week, or...his lilting accent woke her from her reverie.

"How much did you win?" His sweet breathe so close it disturbed her bangs. His eyes never leaving her bottom lip especially when she put out her pink tongue and licked.

"Mmm, my share $3 Million Dollars. So how much are you worth?" She openly flirted with the captivating and captivated man, her hand hovering between their close chests.

"$53 Billion Dollars - US." He moved but a fraction of an inch, his lips almost touching hers. He was suddenly feeling sorry for himself again. He had shuttered his eyes and his long lush lashes fanned on his flushed cheeks and her fingers inched to touch his lids, but didn't. Pain and anguish still fresh in her mind; she thought of tossing caution to the wind.

"Just...Michael" she called his name in the hushes of tones "I want..." she faded off as she bit her bottom lip and traced her index finger to Michael's lower lip.

He didn't move he was frozen with need. "If we continue like this Ni-ki-ta, we'll never have dinner tonight and I want to show you off, I want us to know each other first." He said to the beauty before him and castigated himself for being such a fool, but he really didn't want her this way. Michael was an honorable man and a quick relief wouldn't be.

"If we don't take our time..." Michael moved, the space between them disappeared and their lips met in a passionate, tender, indescribable kiss, brief but oh so full of promises. Smiling "I won't be able to stop Kita" and he turned picking up the pashmina on the couch putting it around her, then kissing her cheek and grabbing her hand. To the car in comfortable silence, "Will we need reservations?" he asked.

"No" her voice catching from the buzzing in her ears and the pounding of her heart, "we'll eat at Mar del Plata, do you like sea food?" He nodded, put her hands to his lips and kissed them both, lingering to taste her skin and smell her perfume. She added, "My friends Carla and Seymour own the restaurant, you'll love it." Michael kissed the inside of her wrists, first the left, then the right, to Nikita's distracted sigh.

Carla and Seymour Birkoff were Nikita's best friends. While Carla and Nikita had been studying in Ireland they met Seymour. He was a computer geek, she an extraordinary Chef. Carla Argentinean and Seymour American had fallen in love and married.

Nikita and Carla shared the Sweepstakes winnings and they all moved to Spain together to live "La Vida Loca" as Carla called their dream come true. The Birkoffs now had a beautiful 9-month-old baby girl name Rene. Nikita was her godmother.

The trip into town was made with Nikita recalling all the colorful folklore. The way was dark, no streetlights and she wanted to make sure he was safely approaching their destination so she moved closer. Her skirt had ridden up with the movement of the car and Michael shifted uncomfortably as his erection grew with each passing moment.

The music from the village square and the lights diverging from the dark country road immediately lit the connection between the two beautiful people. "This is amazing, 10:30 and it looks as if it were morning," his hand still holding hers in a possessive way.

"People in this country start eating dinner now." They approached the al fresco café. "Carla, Seymour can you fit us in?" The very young couple approached Nikita and Michael and smiled a wide knowing smile. "Al fin, un novio" (At last a boyfriend.) Carla joked and added, "Of course we'll fit you in."

"No me digas que la belleza esta no tiene novio." (Don't tell me this loveliness doesn't have a boyfriend.). Michael said with a disarming smile "Entonces yo soy su novio". (Then I am her boyfriend.) And bending at the waist kissed the brunette beauty's hand, shaking Seymour's outstretch one. "Nice to meet you, Seymour Birkoff, this is my wife Carla."

Carla was giving Nikita the thumbs up and Michael the once over, thus embarrassing the blonde to no end. Nikita was blushing and still held Michael's hand, fingers intertwined, his hip touching hers. "This 'novio' is Michael Samuelle, same reaction from the Birkoffs' than from Walter, Seymour added stuttering "THE Michael Samuelle?"

Michael now wrapped his arm around the blonde's shoulder's, a possessive stance and defensive body language. "Yes", short succinct serious.

She laughed quietly "Michael has a problem with people fussing about this, so let's keep it short and sweet."

Birkoff piped in "Mr. Samuelle, I am sorry I'll drop it as soon as I say this. You have been my hero for so long. A self made man, brilliant businessman and computer wiz extraordinaire. It is an honor to meet you Sir and I am sorry for your loss, I read your wife was your muse."

Michael laughed, "OK Seymour, don't call me Sir again and someday I'll tell you how extraordinary my luck has been. Now bring me your best bottle of wine and let me at your wife's cooking. Nikita has been making my mouth water recounting Carla's cooking talent. So bring me some delicacies, razzles dazzle us." He needed to finish the accolades and the references to his wife Simone that made him oh so uncomfortable.

Nikita watched the exchange with curiosity; they were seated inside, in a private room since the restaurant was packed with locals and tourists. Carla hoped that the private room - the restaurateurs' office -would make it possible for her friend and the gorgeous Frenchman to get to know each other better and maybe even feed each other. Michael smiled the whole time and Nikita blushed.

The moment they were seated on a round table in front of a one way window overlooking the restaurant, a plate full of langostinos boiled in butter and served with lemon juice arrived. The fare accompanied with the most wonderful hard crusted bread, hand churned butter and a Marques de Riscal 1987, full bodied, deep red and exquisite wine. Michael adjusted the chairs so they'd be next to each other, closer than was the norm.

He picked up the crustacean with his fingers, thus releasing the blonde's hand and proceeded to feed her in the most erotic and sensual way she had ever experienced. "Mmm" he said as she sucked his fingers into her supple mouth and licked the digits noisily. He took a sip of the wine and kissed her dribbling the liquid into her waiting orifice like a young bird from his mother.

She, who was not going to be outdone and who was so past correctness, put her hand on his bulge; he thought he would come unglued. Never in his 32 years of life had he felt this inebriated with anyone or anything. His senses were standing on ends and his need to commute physically with this woman was devastating. "God I can't do this." He said and she looked worried. "No, I didn't mean...I can't do this, wait, I want you..." Michael was making no sense.

Nikita took the initiative again since she also wanted to be gratified. Without hesitation, clear blue eyes looking into clouded green ones, she unzipped him. Taking his member in her hand while she sat on his lap and inserting herself into him Nikita started riding the semi conscious man with total abandon. One of his hands occupied with holding his erection inside the bucking bronco on his lap.

His other hand busy exploring, kneading, squeezing and fondling the total weight of her breasts while his mouth devoured her tongue. He was silent, couldn't even utter a sound. 'Poetry in Motion' he was thinking. His eyes half lidded watching her bright gleeful face, she said "I haven't been with a man in over three years Michael." His plaintiff wail muffled by her mouth as they climaxed together, her confession had been too much to bear.

He was kissing her, whispering unintelligible French phrases in her ears, while shoving his tongue into the shell. Michael's neck exposed so she took advantage of the moment and bit, kissed, licked and devastated the column before her. "You taste of ...heaven." She said and blushed.

She was still impelled on the man; he was semi hard inside her when Carla walked in to find the erotic, yet not exposed, scene. "Ahem" she said, are you guys ready for dinner?

I prepared a 'cazuela de mariscos' (Shell fish pot) to die for, it will be here in 30 minutes, so go on with what you were doing and I'll knock before I return." Carla winked at the couple and left just as fast as she could; they burst out into laughter.

"What were we doing?" moving her rump and feeling him grow, the beautiful blonde innocently asked "Like this?"

"Kita, I can be quite..." he didn't finish he was holding her by her waist picking her up and letting her down on his erection, quicker and quicker. "Do you want to lay down?" He was breathing heavy, grunting, eyes fixed on her breasts, tongue stroking his own lips.

"Shut up Michael, this is won-der-ful, agghhh!" She'd climaxed and was panting asking him "Please, can you kiss me, please..." He was no longer careful he was being rough, was making sure his erection touched every part of her gentility. He was biting her breasts, which were now completely exposed and telling her in plain erotic English what he wanted to do to her. But that accent, as thick as his member felt like fingers down the woman's arm.

All the while Nikita was almost laying flat on Michael's lap, maneuvering with her waist making exaggerated gyrations, thus fulfilling her every desire. She was making tiny incoherent noises, climaxing over and over around this man's incredible privates. Tears rolling down her face from the sheer eroticism of the act, he kissed the tears in an inspiring way.

He held on for dear life and anyone listening at the door would have heard unintelligible panting from the pair. Nikita was crying with the shear torture of her release. Michael was hardly breathing and climaxing in spurts, for he wanted his release to last an eternity.

"I want to make you climax in my mouth Ni-ki-ta." Michael said and raised her, both feeling immediately lonely from the loss of proximity.

Michael moved from the chair to sit on the floor, standing she straddled his head now resting on the chair. She squatted a bit to accommodate his mouth and tongue and he licked every fold, every nook and cranny, every lip of her center. But mostly he sucked and licked her the core, which was the jewel of her sex until she held on to his head with her hands to make sure he didn't stop. When she came she collapsed unto his waiting arms.

He laughed, a nervous chuckle "When did we divest you of your underwear?" He asked positioning her on the couch to enter her again. Her skirt was around her neck underneath she wore nothing more than thigh high stockings and CMF still on her feet. He lay beside her and entered her sideways, always a favorite position of Michael although hard to maintain, but great for his female partner.

"M-m-m-ichael I didn't wear any tonight...m-m-m." They were doing it the Catholic way with rhythm, and she loved every nano-second of it "Can't wait to get you home." She whispered, he laughed, "I AM C***NG" he announced, French accent present making her swoon, "climax with me my joy." And she did, one more time, making up for all those years of self-gratification and frustrated sexual angst.

They lay intertwined for a few minutes, coming down, not a word was spoken, just the sound of Michael's little kisses on the blonde's shoulders and ears. She had closed her eyes and tried hard to control the battling emotions raging within her - want and embarrassment. He'd had an epiphany, Simone was gone, he needed to live and this woman could be the one.

She had brought relief, light, comfort and laughter into the bleak existence he had been enduring since Simone's diagnosis. His mind taking flight as he kissed her on the mouth and said, "We don't want to shock the village with our antics, let's get back some semblance of..." distracted, he was playing with her hair and getting hard.

She said, "Decorum, the word is decorum. I have never..."

He interrupted "Hmmm a quick learner then." And laughed.

"No, this is important, I have only been with one man before, older abusive and I ran away...I have never acted with such abandon Michael, I am embarrassed and conflicted and..." She was crying fixing her skirt and hair for she knew Carla was about to return.

She had moved away from Michael who now fixed himself up, "Nikita I don't do casual, don't worry...I apologize, shouldn't have let my needs get the best of me. I 'buried' my wife today, scattering her ashes where she wanted to be and you awoke something I thought lost...at first, when I was in the bathroom I reflected on your obvious beauty and became quite aroused. But the beauty deep in you is the one conflicting me now Kita." He approached her and kissed her lips ever so gently.

A knock on the door roused them from their trance, "Come in" Nikita said while filling his deep stare with a tenuous smile. The food came and they ate while catching each other up with the story of their lives; then in comforting silence when desert came - Crema Catalana. "You refer to your net worth with such...disdain." She said.

"Money Kita cannot buy you everything...Simone died while I had this fortune..." he somberly confessed drifting off.

She smiled when she saw the sweet smooth treat going into his mouth after his statement. Then decided to put a different spin on the rest of the night by commenting, "You are going to love this desert I think you call it Crème Broulette... I am sorry Michael, didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"Is this what you think?" He said annoyed, "I don't know you well enough to grasp yet all of your emotions, however you have taken hold of my soul...I don't promise anything Ni-ki-ta, but I do ask for a chance. Let's go on, see what happens, are you willing to give me that?" She nodded unshed tears in her eyes.

***

"With friends and conversation life is wonderful and when you add good warmed Cognac and even better Cigars to the end of a meal, everything is good and right with the Universe." Michael said this to Nikita as they walked from their car and then he added, "Of course, mind altering sex with a deity like you completes me."

They had spent two hours after dinner talking with Carla, Birkoff, Adrian, and Walter. Now 3 o'clock in the morning and the couple was walking back from Walter and Adrian's by way of the beach.

The older couple had walked into town and had asked Michael and Nikita to give them a ride home. With Walter singing Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again" the entire way back they had returned safe and sound. The young couple left the car at Adrian's so that Felipe, her handy man, would look at the noisy muffler.

The way back through the beach was long and convoluted, weaving in and out of coves on the cul de sac the two compounds shared. Nikita had taken off her shoes and stockings with Michael's help. He had showered her legs with kisses as he rolled down the silk encasing her marvelous limbs.

She had knelt before him, removed his socks and shoes and marbled at the perfect toes the man before her possessed. Kissing his feet in an overstated fashion, he laughed as she mocked, "The hell with women's lib, I like it like this, subservient."

He had picked her up and crushed her to his body; she felt his burgeoning erection and whispered "Want to do it in the sand?" He laughed and backed her against a boulder, smoothed by the years of the sea slamming against it; he took her hard and fast.

"I am trying," he said "to restrain myself, you are making it impossible by bewitching me." His mouth hungrily kissing her soft pliable lips.

Nikita had her arms around his neck and was talking a mile a minute about the scenery before them. He was amused holding her waist to him and trying, without success to distract her diatribe. "Mmm Kita, can we hurry here, I need to make you mine."

The blonde thought to herself it was too late she was his. Her concerns blown away by his eager kisses and gentle strokes of her very erect nipples. "Hurry" he repeated with an evil smile.

They continued their walk at a fast pace and Michael added in a serious tone "We need to use precaution. My wife Simone developed the decease that killed her from a botched up abortion after a bad pregnancy she had a couple of years before she met me. I can't go through the worry of loosing another soul mate to parenthood. I know it is irrational thinking on my part, can't help it, I've tried."

Nikita explained about her IUD, understood his predicament and told him it was a bit late to worry. After all it only took one coupling and they had already done it about 1,000 times. He had pulled her along, saying "And we need to do it about 1,000 times more."

They arrived at the cottage and continued their love making until the morning sun crept into their bed and told them it was time to rest. When the early evening arrived the sated couple awoke, made love again, talked, ate, danced, and made love some more. The reading of French poetry by Michael culminated the evening and this became their M O for the days to come.

As it is with young new love the days turned into weeks, and soon three months had passed. Michael had arranged to conduct his business in the French Andorra Office, close by helicopter to Nikita's cottage. He was there every night to read poetry, cook, eat, commute with Nikita and Nature and make love until they couldn't move from the completion.

***

Nikita had noticed she had missed two periods. She was so regular Carla used to laugh and say she set her biological clock by her; she excused the lateness by blaming emotions. She ignored the painful breasts by blaming Michael's obsession with them.

Soon six months passed they never spoke of marriage, never spoke of living together. She reasoned Michael would have said they were cohabitating already. He never spoke of introducing her to his parents Paul and Madelyn, she was sure he would pretext, according to him they were quite impossible to deal with. She never pushed and she blamed her lack of menstruation to this unspoken stress inducing problems.

Michael didn't know Nikita's feelings; she never brought any of those topics up. The blonde seemed to like their relationship as it was. Michael had been married before; he felt Nikita and he were to be together forever, so he never bothered with such thoughts.

Carla and Adrian convinced Nikita to take a pregnancy test and then another. She had started showing, her stomach hardly noticeable but the tell tell signs were there. The evening came and scared by the test results, she started crying after a very small silly argument between the lovers, Michael said, "You are so touchy my love".

She had stormed out of the room yelling explicits at him over her shoulder. He had smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Women" and had gone after the moody blonde comforting her by showering her with kisses and apologies. "Kita I am sorry." He had a bad cold, was not feeling well and had taken anti histamines, which made him groggy.

Nikita gave Michael a terrific b-job. Her mouth had sucked his member with tremendous tork and her tongue had circled it, licked passionately the head and bit him ever so lightly. He had held on to her head with such tenderness and had whispered his devotion to her in his mother tongue, which should have sent thrills into the heart of the blonde. He had thought she'd been PMSing so the b-job had been enough.

"Michael" Nikita murmured to a half sleep flu stricken man as they lay intertwined a jumble of legs and arms. He answered "Mhm", she continued ignoring the fact he was not lucid "How stet fast is your no pregnancy rule?" He answered "Mhm".

Her life came crashing down; she was so overwhelmed by what she read in his response she gasped and silently cried. She pulled her legs and arms away from the softly snoring man, sat by the bed watching him and made a spare of the moment decision a 6-month pregnant woman shouldn't make.

Quietly she wrote him a note, packed her things and left. She would take her car to the train station, and then another train and then a cruise, taking the Concorde to New York were she would have her child. She loved Michael so much she wouldn't curse him with the decision of having to leave her and their child. She was reacting in a bizarre manner.

The morning found a sick Michael opening his eyes and wondering were his beloved was. "Nikita", he called her coughing and sneezing, his body in the throngs of mialgia and malaise. His fever was high and his eyes just closed; sleep calling him to the only cure, rest.

When the night came around again Michael who had slept the fever away, awoke and relieved himself, then walked around the house wondering were Nikita had gone to. Taking another anti histamine with juice from the table by the side of his bed, he went back to sleep sure she had gone into town or across to Walter and Adrian.

The second morning came and Michael, feeling 100% better, called out to Nikita again. Receiving no answer he took a long hot shower, dressed in a warm long sleeved pullover, sweat pants all in black and barefoot padded to the kitchen were he was sure he'd find Nikita. He had not shaved for two days and his scrungy beard gave him comfort for she loved him like this, campy.

He called to her and she still didn't answer, he put on the coffee and turned to the fridge to serve himself some orange juice when he found the note. It was sad, simple, and totally confusing for the man reading it with unsteady hands.

My dearest Michael I cannot bear to watch you suffer,

for it would be as though I was hurting myself. It is

better this way doesn't try to find me or come after me.

Just know I love you.

What did this mean, what was this about? "Nikita" he called again and again. Barefoot he ran to Walter and Adrian, to find them gone. His heart was breaking his world collapsing. He put shoes on, took the Range Rover into town at a break neck speed and found Seymour trying to explain the concept of ripe plantains to a teenage busboy.

The Rover came to a screeching halt. "Birkoff" Michael yelled, "Where is she". Birkoff interrupted Michael, "Come inside not here we need to talk." Devastated Michael acquiesced and followed the younger man into the restaurant. Seymour thought Michael looked shorter, defeated, confused.

"I woke up from a fevered cold and found this" Michael said throwing the letter across the table to Birkoff." Michael noticed he didn't even read it. Birkoff said, "I told her she was being stupid, I told her to talk to you..."

Michael begged, "Birkoff please, I don't have a clue of what is going on, please."

"She left, Carla convinced her to let her go with her...Michael, she is pregnant..." Michael let out a sob; he put his face to his hands and wept, first out of fear, then out of happiness. "Walter and Adrian?"

"They talked her into letting them take her to their home in the States, she wanted to go underground, what spooked her so Michael?"

"Birkoff, I am a fool, I am going to be a father. The most incredible woman is going to bare my child and I, without even knowing it, have pushed her away, endangered her, oh God." Birkoff moved closer to Michael and said, "She made me promise not to tell you about the pregnancy or were she went. I have not slept for two days waiting for you to come, what was I going to do. I came up with a plan."

"Just tell me where she is Birkoff" Michael grabbed the younger man by the lapel and shook him his strong deportment threatening Seymour.

"Listen, I will not give you the address, I don't know it. You have to calm down, I know is hard, listen to me, we can't act like Nikita, pregnancy is her excuse what would ours be?" The controlled young man retorted.

"OK, I am sorry" Michael realized this attitude and course of action was not working.

"I think you should let her chill, gather herself and come to her senses. She just found out yesterday and they were going to see a doctor first thing, even before traveling to the States. She thinks she is 6 months along she hasn't had her period since she met you. Carla has not called yet, when she does I'll..."

"No Seymour, I am not moving from here. I cannot allow my child to be born without me; I cannot allow Nikita to go through the remainder of the pregnancy alone. I love her, I don't want my child to come into the world to unmarried parents." Michael was going on and on, no string of consciousness just irrational blabber.

Seymour brought Michael lunch; they talked and got to know each other better. The younger man as the day turned into night gave Michael his ideas for a '.com' business. Michael promised to help; he also helped with the restaurant in the evening. The more rational male of the species was thinking, planning, how to retort to the more emotional female counterpart.

When the restaurant had closed and the new best friends were sitting in the office drinking Irish Coffees and talking about parenthood the phone rang. Michael tensed, Birkoff smiled "Here we go".

"Hello?" Birkoff said looking at Michael. "Carla honey, were are you? - pause - yes he is here, devastated of course. - pause - I understand, I'll tell him, ok... I love you too." It had been a brief conversation, but to Michael it had lasted an eternity.

"What, were are they?" Michael anxiously asked.

"Here is the deal. They are in New York, in Walter and Adrian's home; they saw a doctor first in Madrid and then in New York. She is healthy, so is the child. She had the necessary tests and is 41 weeks along. She didn't want to find out the sex of the child without you around. She says she will call you." Birkoff repeated.

Michael, stood up, looked up at the ceiling and tinkered with the coffee cup rim. He said, "Help me Birkoff, what should I do?"

Birkoff answered, "Let's go to New York Michael, and show her you want her."

Michael as Birkoff spoke was dialing his pilot on the cell phone. Within an hour they had been picked up, transported first by helicopter then by corporate jet and were winging their way across the Atlantic on the Concorde to JFK airport. Birkoff was impressed, never had he traveled in such luxury. From the plane Michael called his parents and explained what was happening.

"My parents are on their way to New York, will be waiting for us there." Michael told Seymour as they ate an incredible meal served by two 'asafatas'. Michael's lavish life style surprised the younger man; while among them Michael had been 'regular folks' (well as regular as billionaire's could be, Seymour thought.)

***

Michael's mother Madelyn, heeding Michael's request was making all kinds of arrangements. Madelyn and Paul were traveling from Toronto; from there she had called Paul's brother, a parish priest in upper New York who agreed to travel to the City to meet them all. Michael's sister Elena would be traveling with her husband Steven from DC were they had been working on Michael's business. The Samuelle's would welcome Nikita and her family to theirs with total love.

But it was up to Michael and of course Nikita. When the group finally arrived in New York Michael's family went directly to their apartment in the City. Michael and Seymour were driven to Walter and Adrian's home. The handsome expectant father was hyperventilating - Seymour had called ahead.

Michael stayed in the limo; Seymour got off knocked on the door and was greeted by Carla and Baby Rene. Walter came out to the car and told Michael, "Are you ok?" The younger man nodded, circles around his eyes, curls unruly, cold forgotten.

"We have told her you are here, my boy hormones are terrible things ..." Walter was interrupted by Nikita opening the door. Perhaps because he knew she was pregnant, or perhaps because he missed her so every minute they were apart, she looked to Michael like a "Madonna".

Michael stepped out of the car tears softly rolling down his face; Walter came out the door away from the sidewalk. She was wearing a white cotton lacey housedress, her hair down, held back from her face by a tortoise shell barrette. She was wearing no shoes and Michael first words were "Kita you'll catch a cold, were are your shoes?"

She threw herself into his arms and sobbed, "I am so sorry Michael, I got so scared you wouldn't want..." Michael kissed her hard, lots of tongue, he put both his hands on her stomach and smiled "Will you marry me?" She leapt into his arms.

The couple got into the car and drove to The Plaza were they took the Honeymoon Suite. They got looks for Nikita was wearing no shoes and Michael's coat over her shoulders. He was carrying her and they were talking incessantly in hushed tones. The conversation was about their child, about not wanting to know the sex, about their life, about wanting to continue to reside in Spain and on.

As it was with Michael, arrangements were made without having to ask, doors were opened without requests. So the rest of the night was filled until the New York morning found them on the settee of their love nest still talking and eating and loving each other in the sweetest most devoted way.

Plans had to be made, families had to be met, friends had to be thanked. They went to the doctor together and Michael saw their child's scan. The sex of the baby was concealed at their request and the proud expectant parents shopped for baby toys at F.A.O.Schwartz.

Nikita had been anxiously waiting to sign the pre-nuptial agreement; Michael's lawyers had insisted they should prepare one. Michael fired his lawyers and told the next batch not to even mention it. Nikita argued with Michael over this, she didn't want him to think his wealth had anything to do with the marriage. Michael had smiled and semi joked "With a manhood like mine, do you think I have a doubt what attracted you to me...hell Kita I am also in the room when we make love." No pre-nup was ever prepared, much less executed.

In Saint Patrick's Cathedral Father George married Nikita and Michael two days after they'd arrived. No guests just their family in attendance; the bride wore an off white Vera Wang strapless sheath, her pregnancy hardly showing. The groom wore a black Gaultier suit, shirt and tie. He wore the cuff links his father wore on his wedding day.

A full mass including the exchange of platinum and diamond wedding bands with Walter, Adrian, Carla, Seymour and his family in attendance. The huge historical church emptied of the public for this very private, very moving, very elegant wedding. Love was in the air, not only from the bride and groom, but also from every person in attendance.

Nikita wore Madelyn's pearl necklace and Adrian pearl earrings. Carla and Elena in lilac Carolina Herrera were Nikita's maids of honor. Elena's son Adam pushed baby Rene's stroller decorated in flowers down the church isle. The flowers were simple, the ceremony as simple as Madelyn was capable of making things.

At the receiption, held in a suite at The Plaza Nikita's wish of simple and intimate respected, they dined on Beluga Caviar, Crystal Champagne and Australian beef and shrimp. Michael gave Nikita a magnificent 6-carat diamond solitaire on the most exquisite eternity baguette band; she smiled and said "Oh I see what simple means to Michael."

The festivities ended by the couple winging their way off to an undisclosed location. Of course the pilot, flight plan and the likes would give inquiring minds their destination, but it was kept in a need to know basis, no one needed to know. Michael after arriving at their assumed destination took a small Lear Jet, piloted by him, to their final honeymoon locale.

Nikita wanted glitz and they wound up in Las Vegas. The Bellagio hotel in the gambling city boasted of dancing water fountains and the huzzle buzzle of the casino in a supposed minimalist fashion. When they arrived Nikita laughed at Michael's face "This is discreet Michael...by Vegas standards."

He laughed, "Kita they would have to turn off more than half their lights to begin to approach low key." They went to an Elvis Impersonator to renew their wedding bows; she always wanted to be married by one of them. The man was particularly good and looked just like The King. He serenaded them with Heartbreak Hotel to the blonde's delight, after Michael tipped him handsomely.

Michael got great enjoyment watching Nikita playing the One Arm Bandits for a quarter a pop, sheer joy in winning $90.00. He on the other hand, played Roulette and High Stakes Poker, dropping $10,000 in one swift move, but then quickly recouping his losses.

All in all the couple came out even and they enjoyed this outing. They then continued to watch Sigfried and Roy and their wondrous tigers; Nikita squealed with joy.

The night ended with their love making, Michael making sure Nikita was satisfied and not hurt. She floated as the man she loved so much brought her to release and accepted her ministrations with such tenderness and awe. They loved each other until the wee hours of the morning and then rested for Nikita wanted to go to Hoover Damn, this was after all her Honeymoon.

Nikita wept when they took an air tour of the Grand Canyon. She giggled like a school child when Michael introduced her to Peta Wilson who was filming on the strip a movie funded by one of his companies. But the thrill of her trip came when the blonde met the talented and gorgeous French Canadian actor Roy Dupuis. Michael had to admit the meeting made him jealous; the gorgeous man was taken by his exquisite wife, but who could blame him, Michael thought.

All in all Michael had given Nikita a wonderful week full of joy and laughter. Their trip back to Spain was made in the luxury of Michael's corporate jet. The bedroom in the plane, Michael confessed had never been used before. The newlyweds made sure they christened the room, the bathroom, and the office. It was a magnificent display of corporate success and the bride whispered, "I want to watch you climax in every corner of this 'boat'." And she did for they made love everywhere, over and over with devotion.

Michael laughed, "Wait until we go on our yacht, you'll see me climax on a boat." He continued kissing his wife in the most erotic places and she came as the plane landed. "Mmm Michael, is this anyway to run an airline?" He laughed, "You bet it is." She finished.

***

The next three months were spent in the comfort of their Marseilles home. Nikita wanted the baby to be born were he had been born. Her support group came with them, after all both Walter and Seymour were now working with Michael. Michael's sister had become quite close to the blonde so she came with son Adam and of course husband Steven to the Marseilles home, a luxurious mansion really belonging to Michael's parents.

The three 'sisters', Carla included, behaved like teenagers, and played tennis - Nikita mostly watched - cards, saw movies, shopped, swam and basically enjoyed their camaraderie. Michael would get upset because Nikita was impulsive, she would go off on shopping trips to Milan and Paris at the drop of a hat, his sister and Carla the only comfort for the worrywart Michael. He wanted her to spend his money from the comfort of her home. Nikita would laugh and say, "Michael Home Shopping doesn't have what I want."

Paul and Madelyn Samuelle had become quite fond of their Australian daughter-in-law. Paul was an American who had fallen in love with the beautiful Madelyn, a Canadian by birth, while attending the University of Miami in Florida. She was there to study medicine, he to study Law. They married, had Michael, finished their studies and then had Elena.

The couple had only been separated when Paul was in Vietnam. While in her Internship in Chicago Madelyn would sneak baby Michael into the Medical Ward and he would sleep in the staff lounge, nurses, interns and residents helping care for the baby. Paul was imprisoned by the Viet Com and Madelyn needed help, no families for either.

When he returned from the POW camp, Paul had gone into the JAG and had been able to combine his beloved Air Force with his chosen career. A Colonel by rank he had served his country well and retired with honors just as Michael was embarking in his business. This immediately made them all ridiculously wealthy.

Madelyn who had been in private practice - Psychiatry, said to Paul after Michael's company went public "Time to retire Colonel and enjoy life." And they had been doing just that ever since. Visiting the children and the grandchild, but jet setting with such style and helping Michael with the business along the way.

"Walter my man, you won't believe what I've come up with. Let's go visit Vietnam after the grandbaby is born." Paul said while greeting his new best friend. "I want to set up a private rescue mission to see if we can uncover some of the MIA..." the men went out on the yard to smoke and talk. Paul and Walter shared their POW experience with pride. Walter had also been a guest at the Hanoi Hilton for a spell.

Madelyn too was very fond of Adrian, after all the elderly woman had been a Psych Op in her life as a Counter Intelligence agent and Psychology was not the only 'art' the women had in common. They were both incredible horticulturists with green thumbs to put the Jolly Green Giant to shame. And now they were going to have the baby in common too.

The women walked around the garden discussing what needed to be done by the tennis courts, being used now by Seymour and Stephen playing doubles with Michael and the tennis pro Mick. The father to be was winning, Mick laughed as Michael joked, "Pay attention or you are fired."

The phone rang in the tennis court and Michael rushed to answer it. "Yessss, I'll be right over". He took off shouting over his shoulder, "It's happening". The other men followed closely, with Mick yelling, "Good luck."

Michael, wearing blue jeans cutoff, white tee shirt and Nike tennis shoes, sweaty with hair plastered, took the spiral marble staircase two steps at a time. He burst into the room to find Nikita changing into one of his shirts. "What are you doing, were is the doctor, lay down, here..." He said alarmed.

She laughed "Michael, I must warn you, this may be the last time today I am nice...don't F**K with me." She held her stomach, closed her eyes, breath through a contraction and said to the silent stunned man before her, "Now go take a shower, change and call the doctor in. Only him and the nurse."

"What are you wearing?" He asked ushering her to their bed, which she had arranged with plastic liners on the magnificent linen. He placed a thick cotton blanket under and one on her now laying body.

"Who - pant - gives - pant - a flying - pant - f**k - breath. Do - pant - as I said - cleansing breath.

The doctor walked in accompanied by his nurse, Michael had known both of these people since they helped take care of him as a boy. "Michael, go take a shower, I need to check her and believe me, women are not nice at this time, they resent what we've done to them." Amused the doctor advised the amazed father-to-be.

Michael kissed Nikita's sweaty forehead and started to dry her with a cold cloth she had again by herself, placed next to the bed. "Michael I am warning you for the last time. GO TAKE A F***NG SHOWER OR YOU WILL MISS THE BIRTH". She screamed with clenched teeth.

The nurse took Michael's hand and ushered him into the bathroom, "Don't make me bathe you like when you were a child Michael. Take a quick shower for heaven's sake."

A brief moment later Michael emerged more together, wet from the shower and ready to be a birthing coach. He wore scrubs that had been left for him by the nurse and he said a little prayer, comforting himself like when he was a child.

"Hi" he said to the obviously in pain Nikita. Concern in his handsome face.

"I have been waiting for you", she said grabbing his hand in a painfully strong hold. Whispering she said, "You are never going to make love to me again, ok?"

He smiled, "Ok".

He knelt next to her and guided her through a contraction; they were coming fast, less than a minute apart. She was completely effaced and 9 centimeters dilated. The doctor said, "It is show time Nikita, you are sure you don't want something mild for the pain."

"DON'T TEMPT ME AGAIN YOU SON OF A BITCH." She was, as from time in memoriam, a woman with a mission. "Michael, I don't want to play anymore, I want this child out of me now, Gawd Damn - pant - you - pant - have - pant - all - UGGGHH - pant." Michael was soothing her and instructing her in her breathing, talking her through the pain, commanding her to focus.

She was in pain. "You have all the money in the world, can you please kill that fucking Lamase guy who said this was "DISCOMFORT" the a$$hole, like all men..." she was panting, breathing, screaming, crying and bitching. Michael had never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Nikita I need you to concentrate now, I see the head, the baby is coming, so when I tell you to push..." The doctor instructed and asked Michael to brace his wife into a sitting position, he was more than willing to comply.

Nikita was holding on to the bed sheets, Michael kneeling behind his wife was lending her support and she, even in her 'discomfort', appreciated and loved this man. She had placed a mirror on the end of the bed behind the doctor to watch the miracle of the birth. He had long before connected a camera so the moment was recorded for eternity.

He was whispering loving phrases to her ear, she was panting and breathing resting on his strong chest when she needed to stop pushing. "Michael, I need to push, tell him." Michael looked at the doctor with desperation, she was in pain, but the doctor directed the pushing, only when he needed it.

"Michael, I love you but you are not f**k...Arghh. Pant" she said, Michael put chips of ice on her lips and wiped her sweat with this chin. The doctor again "Push Nikita, breath and Push, we are almost there, see the head, one shoulder, the next, it is a girl." Nikita and Michael held each other and cried.

Before Michael could cut the umbilical chord the doctor said, "Wait, what have we here?" Michael and Nikita froze, the baby was still attached to her, and she could see her wiggling, covered in blood, poop and white stuff. Michael thought she looked beautiful.

"Children, this happens rarely, but you've got twins. Nikita PUSH." She was exhausted, scared and finally quiet. "Is the baby ok?" Michael's concern showing through his trembling voice.

"Everything is fine. Push Nikita, I know you are tired hon, just push." The doctor said.

Michael was silently crying tears of joy, fear and elation rolled down his beautiful face onto the exhausted and terrified face of the mother. He moved to her ear and whispered "I love you", she couldn't speak because of the pushing but she managed to look at him and squeeze his hand twice signaling her ascent.

"There is the baby, look Nikita, and this one is a boy." The doctor elated yelled.

Michael and Nikita finally breathed, she held both screaming babies to her chest. The nurse saying "Let me clean them quick, so you can give them your collustrum." Nikita nodded and released the babies, the nurse asked Michael to come help, which he did.

The pediatrician who had walked in at some point during the process now checked the babies out. This had been Michael and Elena's pediatrician and he truly loved the father. So much so he had come out of retirement to attend to the babies.

The Obstetrician continued last minute attention to the mother and then allowed the father to join her. Michael hugged, kissed and held his wife telling her in between sobs "Thank you Nikita, thank you my love." She breast-fed the babies for the first time, under the watchful eye of the nurse.

For a moment, while the doctors and nurses rushed around busy with the clean up. Michael's arms enveloped Nikita and their two gorgeous babies. He kissed her head, the babies' heads and silently thanked God for the miracle of his family. The feel of her twins at her breast mesmerized her and herself sent a prayer of thanks to the Creator.

The Obstetrician interrupted and before he could speak Nikita asked to let the family come in if it was possible. So the doctor let the euphoric and surprised family into the room. Adrian and Madelyn helped change the bed, while Carla and Elena changed and cleaned Nikita's face and combed her hair. Michael had changed Nikita's shirt with another one of his and his scrubs and stood by his babies who slept in a crib next to their parent's bed.

Nikita had summoned the children, Adam and Rene unto the bed, Michael had started to complain and she had shot him a look that reminded him of her tirade moments earlier. With everyone settled around the new family the Obstetrician began. He had concurred with the Pediatrician and they were both sure of the diagnosis.

"This anomaly happens rarely, the baby boy was 'hidden' behind his sister, thus blocking the heart beat and all other signs of his existence, I think he is going to be like Michael, quiet and reserved, while the girl came into the world like Nikita, telling all "Here I am."

The room laughed and Madelyn asked, "How is the health, the Apgar scores..."

"Always the MD, Maddie, they are fine, more than fine, the group is great, well except for Michael who was abused..." the doctor continued and the nurse interrupted "As all men should during the birthing process."

Again laughter, the doctor continued to fill them in to the health and well being of these three human beings and then when their work was done, along with the extended family, they left the room to the proud parents and their babies.

Michael placed the babies on Nikita's arms; she gave them back to him and laid her head on Michael's lap. He was sitting with his back to the headboard, eyes fixed on the squirming newborns who wore the most magnificent embroidered shirts, diaper covers, booties and hat, of course yellow and green. "What are we going to name them Michael"?

"You do it Kita." He was holding babies and had his incredible wife's head lying on his erection - hell of a time for this he thought.

"Mmm put the babies down Michael." Nikita saucily stated.

"Kita, you should sleep, you just had twins my love." He said kissing his wife who looked beautiful.

"Put down the babies Michael" as he did she attacked him. She was tired, bleeding and sore, but she wanted him to give her sexual release, to taste her engorged breasts, to kiss her mouth.

"Michael, I want to feel you down my throat now. I want you wild and grateful, Gowd only knows when these two are going to let us sleep again. I want to be the first woman in the history of mankind that gets laid after giving birth to twins."

"Kita, augh..." she had her hands inside Michael's drawstring pants. His panting equaled hers an hour before. She smiled before going down on him and said, "Remember the no f**k request?" He didn't answer, she didn't expect it "I lied."

Michael went back to his sitting position on the bed, she had lowered his pants to his knees and she admired the woody he was sporting. She lowered her head and then exquisitely for Michael she started licking his entire member with her talented mouth. She wickedly smiled and started playing with his other parts in her mouth.

"These gave me my children. Should I move the twins out of here? She whispered hoarsely.

"Why?" He managed.

"Because, they'll hear us." She answered holding unto him as she sucked, causing pressure from her strong hand, now aided by his hand and her strong mouth.

Nikita was literally making love to Michael with her mouth, the hands, mouth and movements were duplicating her privates and Michael was totally in heaven. She had forgotten the questions, forgotten to breath, forgotten to be quiet, so she screamed as she felt the warm sweet semen down her throat. The babies started to cry.

They both burst out laughing and Michael quickly got up and went to the infants. He hushed them and sang a French lullaby "Sur le Pont d'Avignon..." sweetly until the babies quieted down. When he turned to his wife, she too was asleep. Michael kissed her forehead and went out to find his family.

***

Nikita and Michael's twins Paulette Madelyn and Walter Adrian were now 3 years old. Their life was full of mischief and luxury. Their father taught them how to play the cello and fly kites, their mother how to swim and ride a horse. Their father taught them how to ice skate and jump rope, and their mom learned along with them.

The Samuelle's traveled together, worked together, laughed and loved together. They had run in the Boston Marathon and Michael had bought The Penguins a professional ice hockey team. Nikita with Elena and Carla put together a concern to teach the world how to live better by gardening, decorating, entertaining, crafts, sewing, etc. They were now being traded in the NYSE and had their own magazine and TV show.

Madelyn and Adrian had started a division for Weddings and Babies; their concern was one of the more lucrative in Nikita's company. And now they were thinking of going into the cosmetic industry, homey natural types of products. After all, the women were famous for their impeccable skin.

Michael, Steven and Birkoff would tell Paul and Walter how the men should retire and be kept. Walter and Paul were much too involved with their MIA concern to even hear the jokes, after all the modern world had seen a lot of wars.

Michael and Nikita's net worth, along with the other members of his family, had grown in incredible proportions. Michael was now the richest man in the world, he was worth $159 Billion US, and as Nikita joked "Worth every penny of it."

Their main residency was in the Northern Coast of Spain where they had met and fallen in love. The house had been made bigger, actually huge. But Nikita wanted to keep their kids grounded and brought up as normal as could be possible.

Michael and Nikita sat by the shoreline, he had built a campfire and huddled closely to his wife, he was telling her a story that made her laugh out loud. Her husky accent calling him "Mykull", his hands creeping under her sweater "Juz a lidle bid, I am kold" he said as he put his head under the sweater and sucked her breasts.

He teased her already erect nipples with his tongue and warm breath. She laughed and repeated his name when he opened the top button of her cardigan from the inside "You are going to destroy the sweater." He peaked his head out, now traveling south towards her privates and said "By a nu one" his accent always thicker when aroused.

His destination a fait accompli he pulled at the material of her leggings. She smiled reached down and tore desperately at the seam "Maybe you should manufacture some that come apart easier, you would make a mint." She giggled and shoved his face unto her apex. "S**k Michael, please."

He was in heaven; her scent was as heady as her taste. She smelled of woman and perfume, and tasted like no other delicacy Michael had tasted since her. The mere thought of Nikita's always spontaneous release made Michael burry his face deeper. Without looking up he grabbed her hand and put it down his sweat pants, moving it around his member.

He was squirming, needed her around him. She was holding her breath in an effort not to climax. "Please Michael" her grunts making her wilder. "Please Michael" he ripped her pants, he shredded her sweater, she was desperate and he was out of control, an animal.

She picked up his head from her and pushed him to lie down, pulled his pants down and his sweater up and started f****ng him, while riding him like the children's pony.

He was letting out little noises, she was wild grunting. He held her by her waist and would pull her completely out as she dove completely into his awaiting member.

Nikita laughed the sand was rough and he concurred. They had been out in the beach for hours, had made love from every position imaginable. Michael was trying to stoke the fire, which was hardly glowing because of the light rain that had started to fall.

"You want to go in?" He asked trying desperately to cover his beloved from the elements.

"We need to sneak in like teenagers, look what you've done I am exposed." She retorted.

"Yeah, but I enjoyed it. How much did you pay for this sweater?" he asked, brows raised in one long line, colorful threads in his extended palms.

"You wouldn't want to know - Madelyn made it." She chuckled.

"Don't tell her what I did, she'll ground me." He grabbed her and rolled on the ground with her.

They made love again and finally walked towards their home. He first stopped by the boathouse and got a raincoat from the locker to cover his wife with it. They crept into the house and went into their shower were they made love again and again. Then wrapped in robes went into the twins' bedroom suite to check on their beautiful sleeping children.

Nikita and Michael next went to the kitchen; the help was already in their own quarters. She made sandwiches with his help or with his distraction, he was in charge of the drinks. They went to the TV room and watched a Roy Dupuis movie yet to be released. The movie arousing their sated bodies and they made out like two teenagers in a drive-in movie.

Finally full of great food and fulfilled for now by great sex they relaxed. They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms and their dreams were good and would come true. The couple was the epitome of beauty, finesse and love. Life was good for Michael, Nikita and their twins.

Simone had been right the North of Spain held promise.

El Fin - Fini - The End