“Kita” he hushed “wake up my love, your brother just called.” He looked at the clock and realized he had been contemplating the woman for almost an hour. “We just have a few minutes to get dressed.”

She stretched, like a cat replete with cream. He noticed the subtle movement bringing a reaction not only to his privates, but also to his soul. “Mmm, good morning Michael, I just had the most beautiful dream.” She kissed him not noticing the battle of dark thoughts the handsome man wagered, his emerald green eyes shut tight.

She ran to the bathroom and screamed, “Me first” slamming the door laughing.

Michael calmly walked to the other bathroom in the suite to complete his morning routine. They were going to be late for Mick and Terry, but at this point, who cared. He now wanted the weekend to come to conclusion so he could escape unscathed. ‘As if that was possible now.’ Verbalizing his thought in French not too loud.

When he came out, wearing black jeans, black long sleeved tee and black boots he found her all dressed in winter whites. He thought admiring her legs peering through the slit of her wool ankle length skirt, the creaminess of her soft skin sneaking through the square low cut neckline of her cashmere sweater. Her perky breasts subtly bobbing with her erratic breathing. “Are you ok?”

“Wow Michael, you are…beautiful.” She smiled and handed him a velvet box, “I bought this last night. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you, you seemed so…”

He interrupted, feeling shy all of a sudden and moving to draw her to his body, “You are the beautiful one, I slept, I don’t sleep well and I don’t know last night…”

She interrupted now, watching him open the bow “Am I like a sleeping pill?”

He smiled and before answering saw the white gold neck chain with a cross. “Kita…this is magnificent. I don’t know what to say.”

She laughed, kissed him quick and said, “I remembered you used to wear one as a child, haven seen you wear one now so I thought…Please just don’t be mad at me for what I am going to tell you.”

She was putting the thick chain around his neck and paused, stroking lovingly his shoulders and arms. His eyes were shut tight, he thought ‘Oh sh** Kita, don’t make me bolt.”

***

Michael was, to say the least, scared sh**less, too many sudden angst ridden moments, this was no different. The entire weekend had been a roller coaster of emotions. And now he had to deal with, God knew what. He sat on the couch away from Nikita, his eyes fixed on her beautiful face. “Ok, what is it? What is so scary that you are acting this way?” He said calmly.

“Michael, I promise, I tried to find you, I tried to contact you, but you wouldn’t return my calls, remember?” The blonde babbled.

“Kita, slow down, tell me what is it. What is making you so…” Michael was saying as the phone rang, the blonde by now was sobbing with terror on her face, her nails being chewed to the quick.

“Oui,” Michael answered, “Hey Mick, could we skip breakfast…No it is not that, but we are talking…No it is not that either, we’ll see in a couple of hours, call us then…all right, I will. Thanks.” He hung up, crossed his hands across his lap and said, “From the top Kita, please.”

“Michael, promise, promise you won’t hate me…” She begged crying.

“For Christ sake Kita, please tell me the story that is causing you so much torment.” He quipped, standing.

“Michael,” sniffle “Terri is a book editor for Random House, a major publishing company as you well know. I met her at our mutual Orthopedist’s office, remember I told you about my broken leg?” He nodded and she sniffed again.

“I had been moving and had found a lot of stuff from my childhood, including something I have cherished forever. Well on our way to spend Christmas at Uncle Walter’s I gave her your book, remember the one you wrote when you…” He interrupted, she cried.

“Kita, you didn’t. Damn you didn’t count on me. It is my work. How could you? What gave you the right? When I decide to have my work published I will do it on my own. I didn’t ask you…hell I didn’t even know where you were. I had not thought…I have to go…how could you.” He ranted on, he was furious, he felt…violated.

He turned leaving the stunted Nikita sitting on the couch. She went to follow and thought better of it. It had been wonderful, hell she was sure she was falling in love with this man, but this was kinda over the top. He was absolutely incorrigible, her fears left her, and all she had done was taken steps she thought would help him. “I didn’t think.” She yelled at him.

Michael was packing, throwing his stuff inside the bag. He was silent, as always, but seething. How could she take his work - his damn work - and expose it - him to ridicule, and failure. He walked back out were the magnificent blonde sat in a self-aggrandizing way. He had to smile briefly, she was haughtily challenging him, she had guts, you had to give her that.

“Kita, I am sorry, I…thank you for a wonderful time, thank you for the contribution to MIRA, I’ll call…bye.” He walked out without another word or glance. Nikita sat and wept, Michael stood outside the door and pinched the crown of his exceptional nose between his thumb and forefinger. “F**k!” He exclaimed and walked off.

Running into Mick and Terry in the lobby, Michael who was gaunt and terribly unhappy, it showed. “Hey old fellow, what’s up?” Mick asked.

Michael smiled briefly, “I am leaving, Terry please go see Kita, she needs you guys, I guess...”

“What happened - she told you about the book?” Terry said. “Michael, it was nothing, really she showed me and told me it was the greatest book ever written, she didn’t give it to me to publish, or to do anything more than read it…I took it to my bosses, they fell in love with it…It is brilliant Michael. Nikita did nothing, it was all me.”

Michael again shuttered his eyes and bit the inside of his lip, showing emotion, very much unlike Michael. “Sorry Terry, it is not as simple as that. She could have…I never gave permission, she betrayed a confident I took very seriously. I don’t know, I feel…I am sorry, I’ve got to go.” He turned and left the couple standing in the middle of the lobby - anxiety all around.

“But Michael, my bosses…” he didn’t hear Terry, he was getting on the car he had called for, his bag being placed on the back seat of the Mercedes.

***

The trip back to the City was much too lonely, Michael thought. He missed the blonde’s company, her chattering, her legs and her hands caressing his. He remarked out loud, “No more.” And as Michael was capable of doing, he closed the door in a most bizarre two days.

The blonde on the other hand, couldn’t stop crying she was beside herself. “Hell Terry I can’t believe I have been such a fool.”

“Nik babe, what am I going to tell my bosses, hell they think they have a Pulitzer winner in their hands, and now I have to tell them they don’t. No way, tomorrow I am going to see Michael.” Terry said.

“Stop, you know Terry he is right, you guys didn’t use much common sense. It is his work after all. He probably could sue, hell I would if I was he.” Mick added. Yeah, two very different trips back to the City that never sleeps.

***

Nikita sat in her home playing with her cat. She was dangling a rubber ball from a long yarn string and the cat would swat at it. Her gaze was really somewhere else, as was her mind; she was down in the dumps. She was wearing sweat pants and shirt, no shoes, bulky white sox. Her hair piled up on her head, no make up and on the coffee table sat a tale-tale sign - an empty quart container for Chunky Monkey Chocolate ice cream and a spoon.

Her depressed state focused on the white gold chain and cross that sat next to an opened envelope. Immediately next to the envelope and jewelry lay a note: Kita: I don’t feel it would be correct for me to keep the gift. I really had a wonderful time with you and will miss you. You have to understand my position. Affectionately, Michael.

Cold, you bet. Succinct, you guessed it. Absurd, well…perhaps. Nikita had realized that Michael was in the right, and unfortunately, she had wronged him. But what was saddest about this was the incredible reception the manuscript had gotten in the Publishing world.

Terry’s bosses had tried to convince Nikita to provide them with the information about the author to no avail. Terry, as promised, had kept her mouth shut.

Two months had passed and Nikita was…late. She had not heard from Michael since New Jersey and was increasingly distraught. Proof, again, the ‘state of unkeep’ her person and her apartment wore. On the phone now with Grandpa Walter who was working hard at convincing her to come to DC for a rest. The blonde, holding a container of whipped cream in her hand, squirted the gooey concoction into her waiting mouth and couldn’t answer.

Talking with her mouth full she said, ”It is a deal, I’ll come to DC, but just until I get my apartment fumigated.” Heck with all the food and empty containers lying around bugs were sure to come. The blonde, who before Michael was almost an obsessive-compulsive neat freak, could be described now as a slob. Her sister Carla had suggested she fumigate the apartment and take off.

“You should go to some exotic local Kita.” Carla said. So Nikita decided to visit Uncle Walter, he would know what to do. But when the time came, Walter had to convince the blonde; she was almost paralyzed with angst. And to that angst she attributed the lateness of her menstruation.

Nikita, picked up and cleaned the apartment, packed a simple bag, Walter’s girlfriend would go shopping with her she was sure. Bathed, changed and proceeded to the train station. There was something about a train when she was feeling low.

There is a legend about Grand Central Station that if you sit there long enough, eventually you will run into someone you know. Nikita ran into Michael’s sister Josephine in town for the day - to go check on Michael’s apartment. Josephine was enthusiastic about running into her old friend; they would travel to DC together.

“You know Michael never tells me much. Did he ever get a hold of you? Josephine asked, obviously not having been told anything by Michael.

“Yes we did talk, and even went out.” Nikita answered.

“And????” Josephine questioned.

“We had a good time, we are old friends Josie, that is all. I still am mourning Jurgen.” Nikita lied.

“You know Nikita, I think it is time you snap out of it, either with Michael or someone else. You know this trip of his with the school to France should do him some good. He has been a bear. Hard to communicate with, he is quiet and he has developed a temper. Did you notice this when you saw him last?” She was obviously digging and Nikita was not going to give.

“Well, I have little to compare, I saw him last when he was what 14, so -well, now he was very entertaining and charming. But I have no time for dating right now with the modeling and all.” Nikita then changed the subject to talk about Josie’s children. And Josephine managed to insert the fact that Michael would be a wonderful father, she could see this by the way he treated her kids.

The train trip was loads of fun. The friends cached up with each other and laughed at the antics of Josephine’s kids. They parted at Penn Station and promised to do brunch while Nikita was in DC. The blonde woman took a cab to Walter’s house on Mass. Ave. and was scolded for not telling them when she was arriving so they could have picked her up.

Nikita and Carla spoke for a long time. Adrian, Walter’s girlfriend indeed went shopping with the beautiful model. The next evening Adrian was having a party to welcome home her nephew who had been out of the country.

The night of Nikita’s arrival she heard from Terry who was surreptitiously keeping her up to date with the progress of the book deal. Still stalled, but at least they had now helped Michael with an agent and negotiations were about to resume. Terry and now Carla were the only two that knew of her lateness.

Wearing a silk chanteuse midnight blue long sheath Nikita prepared for the dinner party at Adrian’s home. The Ambassador’s quarters, the elder lady had told the blonde, were quite comfortable…almost majestic and she liked to show them off. There would be loads of important people at this suare and of course Nikita who was establishing herself in her own right.

She wore high stiletto heels, with clear stockings. The dresses neckline plunged on the back almost to reveal her sensual fissure and the front showed a simple décolletage. Elegantly she threw the wrap, made of very sheer fabric of the same color, around her front leaving her back exposed.

The simple pearls that adorned her ears and neck on loan from Walter’s Girl as Adrian called herself. Her hair cascading loosely and her make up almost not there. She smelled of terribly expensive perfume and looked like a million bucks. She called her message machine to check for the umpteenth time this day.

“Kita” the low soft lilted voice said, “I need to talk with you. My need to speak with you is greater than my anger. I have spoken to the Publishing House. Please call me.” He never introduced himself, how arrogant Nikita thought, and he left a DC number. ‘Two can play at this game Michael’, she thought and decided she would call him the next day.

***

Nikita sat on the settee of her bedroom and held her face with her upturned hands. She looked at the ceiling, got up and dialed her message machine again. “You have one new message and one old message.” Her machine announced. She had another message -’damn, she thought, she should have forwarded her phone.’

She decided to listen to Michael’s message again and her heart softened, for this time she heard how anxious he seemed to be. Now to the other message, which probably came in, as she was listening to Michael’s the first time. This message startled the blonde, for it started with a sigh.

“Sigh…Kita, please I need to speak with you. I will be back in the U.S. tonight. I need to see you; I need to explain. I am sorry I have been out of the country and have tried to reach you, but have not been able to. I…please Kita, I know you probably do not want to speak with me, but…just listen. I am calling from the plane, I’ll call you when I get in.” Michael’s message was full of sorrow and a hint of desperation.

She listened to the message a couple of times before Walter came to the bedroom door to tell her it was time to go. This was going to be a reunion of sorts; Walter had asked his three grandchildren to be at Adrian’s with him. He wanted his family to meet Adrian’s family, who would be there in the majority tonight. Nikita and Walter boarded the limousine that would take them the short distance to Adrian’s home. Mick and Terry, together with Carla and her fiancé Chuck were already in the car. “Don’t my girls look delicious” Walter said.

“What no bandana old man?” Mick joked.

“Respect your elders Mick, didn’t I teach you anything?” Walter quipped.

“How to pick up birds!” Mick answered and everyone laughed.

They arrived and got out of the car, except for Terry who pulled Nikita back. “I need to show you something Nik”.

“Not now Terry, let’s wait until we get inside.” Nikita said.

Uniformed guards flanked the entrance and opened the door for the guests. They were early, for this was the time for the family to meet. Jerome the butler who escorted them to the study where Ms. Adrian and the family were having drinks before the party started received the Jones’.

The butler announced the guests and the group walked into the revelation of their lives. Adrian’s family was Madelyn and Paul Samuelle and their children. Everyone was floored, a true reunion of people who cared deeply for one another and who had not seen each other in a very long time.

Laughter, tears, screams, squeals among the old friends. They were embracing each other, remarking on the changes age had brought. They were truly happy and beyond doubt, utterly overwhelmed and astounded.

“How is this possible” Madelyn stated, “in all the months we have been hearing about Walter, we never put you kids together with him.” She was holding Mick’s hand and kissing ‘Little Carla’.

Walter said, “Don’t feel bad, Adrian never gave names as she spoke about her nephew and niece and their kids.”

“And we never met Adrian, all we knew was that Michael got sent to Marseilles to Poppa’s aunt and uncle.” Mick added.

“What an incredible coincidence. If someone had written this plot for a TV show, no one would have believed it.” Paul interjected embracing Nikita.

“It’s a small world after all…” Josephine started to sing and soon enough Mick, Nikita, Carla, Seymour and Jason were singing and laughing.

“They used to sing this constantly after we went to Disney World on vacation.” Madelyn explained to those present who had not been part of the Samuelle family back then.

“When is Michael getting in”? Adrian asked.

Nikita stiffened and Terry took her hand. “His plane gets into Reagan National in about 2 hours. He is coming right over in a taxi. Boy is he going to be surprised, and he said he had a disclosure for us.” Paul said.

“Will you excuse me please,” Terry said, “I need to go powder my nose.”

“I’ll go with you.” Nikita said and they followed Jerome to the magnificent guest bathroom and dressing room.

Nikita sat on a love seat and let out a silent scream, “Great complication, now Michael is on his way, what else God, what else.”

Terry laughed and added, “This is going to be quick…Michael has agreed to get the book published and it is ready. He will not allow it to go to press before he speaks with you. And here” - she took a paper out of her beaded evening bag and handed it to the blonde.

Nikita looked up confused at Terry who proceeded, “That is the dedication to be on the front page of the book. He has been trying to reach you, his agent called me finally today asking me to get you to call Michael’s cell phone.”

“Let me read this, what the f***…” Nikita said.

To Nikita who has always been my inspiration and my source of support. Without you in my life I would have no purpose, for you are my sun. I love you now, have loved you forever and will love you through eternity.

Nikita read and re-read the printed words and finally eyes filled with tears she looked at Terry. “What do I do now? S**t this really mucks up my anger, how can he be so…so…”

Terry contributed, “Irresistibly romantic and incredibly lovable?”

Nikita smiled, “Exactly. I am going to the airport. Make my excuses, I doubt that we’ll be back.” And like an afterthought, “I better find out what airline, flight and time…”

***

Michael arrived in the States on a beautiful early summer evening. In DC planes cannot take off or land after 9:00 pm and his plane was one of the later ones in that night. He quickly disembarked and stood in the surprisingly short Custom’s.

Michael had brought nothing back so he had nothing to declare. He’d been gone a little over one month on a ‘field trip’ with an NYU class, trip that had been organized by the University. He was happy it was now over, he had a headache and was not looking forward to the party Adrian was throwing. Family obligations be damned.

He whipped out his cell phone and tried Nikita’s NY number one more time. No answer so he left yet another message. “Kita I don’t know if you are getting my messages or if you are screening your calls, please I am back in the States, call me at my cell phone 212-555-8302.”

Michael, as the line moved to check his 2 pieces of luggage, thought hopefully that perhaps she had lost his cell number and thus the silence from her part. This line was not as short for here all Citizens and non-Citizens commingled. At this time of the night there were few Custom’s Agents and thus slow lines and delays.

He found himself helping translate for a little 80-year-old French lady who spoke no English and was in the country for a graduation. She had flirted with Michael asking him at the end if he was married for she was a widow and could use a handsome young man such as he to lift her spirits. Michael had been so enthralled in his conversation with the lady that he passed by Nikita and didn’t even see her.

Nikita on the other hand was disputing with an Airport official about his not letting her into the Custom’s restricted area. She argued that her ‘grandmother’ needed her help. The man would have none of the made up grandma story and so Nikita herself missed Michael when he passed within feet of the formally attired woman.

Michael accepted a ride with the little old lady who was going into Georgetown herself. Her grandson, a strapping 20 year old was about to graduate from American University as its Valedictorian and Michael listened to the young man’s speech at the Grandmother’s insistence. His headache had increased ten fold by the time he arrived at the Ambassador’s house next to the Embassy building.

He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, black sports jacked, forest green tee shirt and boots. After bidding his new acquaintances farewell and entering the compound through its iron gates, the handsome tired man answered his ringing cell phone.

“Oui” Michael’s deep whisper like voice answered.

“Michael?” It was Nikita.

“Oh thank God Kita, where have you been?” He retorted.

“You were right I didn’t have your cell…Michael I am at the airport in DC waiting for you, have you gotten …” Nikita said.

Michael interrupted, “Merde how did you know… never mind, I am already at my Aunts’ house Kita, must have missed you…”

She interrupted him now, “Don’t move, will be there in 15 minutes.” And hung up without another word.

Michael said, “Hello? Hello? Merde” And hit *69, a quick ring and, “The Cellular Customer you are trying to reach has not activated the voice message system, please try your call…” Michael closed the phone and repeated “Merde.” Entering his Aunt’s house wondered, how the hell was Nikita going to find him?

Those present greeted Michael. The party was not a big one, just close friends and of course the large group of family members. Michael had been quite surprised to learn who his newfound family was. After greetings and salutations Michael excused himself to go refresh. Mick and Terry followed at the man’s request.

“Does she know about Aunt Adrian?” Michael asked.

“Who?” Mick joked.

“Mick this is not the time for your teasing.” Terry added. “Yes Michael she went to the Airport…”

Michael interrupted, “I know, she is on her way here. Is she still furious with me?”

Mick seriously now, “Michael my boy, stand your ground, she’ll be fine. Now go get dressed.”

Terry now, “Hell no Michael…she is furious with you. Showed her the dedication and still…you are going to have to beg…it will do you good.”

With this the couple turned and left Michael to change and plan what to say.

Groveling was easy when you wanted something. Michael’s anger over the book incident now forgotten. The blonde, in Seymour’s car was planning her groveling techniques’ herself.

***

Michael took a very quick shower and changed to a pair of dark forest green trousers, white oxford shirt, no tie, tweed sports coat and brown shoes. Michael’s hair was longer and blonder; the copper color high lights framed his incredible face. The eyes were greener than usual and he had golden skin caused by the long walks in the European sunlight.

He was a handsome man, but Michael tonight looked devastatingly gorgeous. But what was handsomest about Michael was his charisma; this strong silent man exuded sex appeal and a certain je ne c’est quoi that made those around him comfortable, impressed and charmed. He was not impressed with his looks, he was surely aware of them but the looks did not make him arrogant in the least.

He wore Cartier cologne he found in his bedroom; Adrian liked to dress his room with his needs. Because Michael had lived with Adrian and George the childless woman still felt Michael was her special nephew. She kept a bedroom for Michael wherever she had a home. He stood in front of the mirror speaking with himself ‘S**t, don’t loose her Michael, let by gones be by gones.”

Michael walked down the stairs towards the 20 people attending the party. At that exact time Nikita walked through the door. Their eyes met, Michael cocked his head and mouthed ‘Hi.” She smiled shyly and looked down, Adrian and Walter came over “Were did you go Nik.” Walter asked.

Before she could answer, Michael had navigated his way through the party attendees and approached the group. “Michael just came in from Europe Nikita, you remember him don’t you?” Adrian, ever the matchmaker asked.

“Yes of course.” The blond answered.

Walter smiled tugging at Adrian to leave Michael and Nikita alone. The older woman was always telling Walter her nephew was a great catch. Walter excused them and moved on.

Paul and Adrian approached Michael and Nikita, “My boy, tell me she is not the most beautiful thing you have seen in years.” Paul said as he embraced both Michael and Nikita.

“You have to excuse Paul, Niki. He is just so incredibly…” Madelyn said.

“Tipsy?” Paul answered laughing, being joined in the laughter by Seymour and Jason and their wives.

“Niki, you remember how Michael would write those stories. Well, we were just told by your brother’s fiancé that his Moliere novel is being released very soon.” Jason said.

“Yes, I have seen Michael recently. Josephine put us in contact…” Nikita answered beet red.

“Actually Ni-ki-ta had everything to do with the book. She gave the novel to Terry to take to her publishing firm.” Michael informed his family.

“Dinner is now being served.” The butler announced before the conversation could continue.

“I need to speak with Nikita, would you all excuse us for a bit?” Michael asked.

Adrian replied, “Of course mon fils, allez.”

Michael held Nikita’s elbow and directed her to the Library, now empty of all guests. She walked around the room feeling the volumes that lined the walls of the richly oak paneled room. “Kita” he said after locking the door and walking swiftly towards her.

“Michael, I don’t want to speak about this…can’t allow our relationship to continue…” Nikita said, dramatic pause, “like it was going…too fast, to - I don’t know - carefree and not focused on the consequences.”

“Kita” he added, “I am truly a fool. You are by far the most amazing woman I have ever met, you…”

Nikita interrupted again, “I don’t know what you thought I was going to expect from you. It was nothing but fun. On the spare of the moment I bid for you. On the spare of the moment I gave Terry the manuscript. On the spear of the moment I let myself get carried away. Very unlike me…but I don’t regret one second…”

Now Michael interrupted her diatribe, “I never regretted our weekend, I was much too overcome by you to fell anything but total joy. But baby, you scared me…”

Nikita tried to interrupt and Michael in two strides reached her side and placed two fingers against her lips to stop her from speaking. “You terrified me, the feelings that you uncovered were overwhelmingly grandiose. I was totally taken by you, didn’t want to sleep for fear of missing a split second of your company.”

He moved forward to kiss her and she moved her head, evading contact with his disarming mouth. “No Michael, not so easily…” He smiled inside, he knew he was in…’She wants charm…watch this my pet.’

Michael moved away from the blonde, stroked his chin and then tapped his lips with two fingers. His voice deeper and his accent devastating, “I don’t think I can live without you Kita, nod even a liddle bid.”

She reached his side and took his errand hand in hers. “It isn’t going to work my man. If your dedication didn’t turn me into a puddle, you think that ‘liddle bid’ crap will?”

He smiled “I am sorry Kita, please forgive me, I’ll do anything…”

She now smiled. ”Will you touch me in that special way you used in Jersey?”

“Well, I don’t know…” he put her pointing fingers in his mouth and sucked, she let out a sigh “I am really sorry, please forgive me - chust a liddle bid.”

She moved forward, he let her, and they shared a searing mind-boggling kiss. His lip new this was a make-up session and the heat was about to trigger off the fire alarms. So he took command of the kiss, and left her - breathless and wanting more.

“Michael, Nikita are you in here?” Josephine was calling through the door, “the door is locked…Oh!”

“We’ll be right there Josie” Michael shouted out.

“Do I feel like we were just caught by our parents doing something we were forbidden from doing”? Nikita said, holding Michael’s hand as he covered her left breast with his hand.

“Let us really be naughty and do it” eyebrows raised, “while ma mere et ma pere are in the other room.” His hand on her a$$.

“Remember when we all walked in and found them in a …compromising position.” She said.

“Me and my siblings have chosen to forget that m-m-memory.” Continuing amusedly and nibbling her neck and fondling her behind.

“Let’s go Michael, I wouldn’t want them to…talk,” She said, holding on to his lips with her lips.

“Let go, disengage, or I won’t be able to control myself and I will ravish you…” Continued fondling her breasts and a$$.

She grabbed his sex, hard as a rock, and whispered, “Let’s go now Michael.”

“Lead like that always, and I am right behind…in front of you.” He said and kissed her.

*** /// ***

Michael was coming out of his long dream while sitting on the plane returning them to the East Coast. He was exhausted but content. His beautiful wife Nikita stretched out next to him herself in a deep sleep. Michael reached over and kissed her softly on the forehead…at last she wanted to try for another baby…

They arrived in New York, were they still kept an apartment, Michael did The Today Show and Brian Gumbel’s show, he did the Conan show and finally The Late Show. Letterman asked him about his beautiful wife and they pulled Nikita on stage. A fun time, but as Michael had confessed to Dave, they wanted to get home to rest before the next project and Nikita added, “We want to start a family.”

Dave had joked that all Canadian performers knew how to make babies, “Hiatus is the method of pregnancy used in Canada”, Michael added. The audience laughed.

That evening the Samuelle’s were much too tired to try for the baby. They slept in their apartment and the next morning early, still no sex, went to Montreal to their beautiful home. A 19th Century farm house they had modernized, upgraded and added to a magnificent residence - luxurious but a real home.

Michael stepped out of the Range Rover and his German Sheppard dogs came running to greet him. The dogs were big, looked ruthless, but were good spirited and very fond of their owners, both Nikita and Michael. Husky and Happy jumped, ran around and barked happily, the couple padded, cuddled and let the dogs lick their faces and hands. “Hello Boys.” Nikita said. “Good to see you Guys.” Michael added.

They went into the house were the staff - a maid, a cook and a handy man were busy getting everything ready so the Samuelle’s, as instructed, could be alone. Messages were gathered, instructions issued and received, fireplaces lit and coffee and tea served; the staff left. Michael was in the study speaking rapidly in French to someone about the new novel he was about to release.

The blonde was changing into shorts and a sweater, no bra and a wicked thought entered her head, so she changed again. She walked into the study with a glint on her face. When Michael turned a sweater hit his face, he looked at the garment, a red cardigan with a letter patch ‘SC’. He looked puzzled and then changed his gaze to the doorway and the blonde standing there, immediately he said in English into the phone, “I’ll call you right back.”

Nikita stood at the threshold wearing her hair in a ponytail, no make up or jewelry, a short navy blue pleated skirt that came just beneath her panties, a sleeveless vest same red as Michael’s cardigan and same letters ‘SC’; and white Keds with white bobby socks. When she had his attention she said “Rah Rah Rah” and turned lifting her skirt and showing her red panty clad behind.

“SC” he whispered “L’ecole de Sacre Coeur”. The school they all attended as kids. He sighed and shuttered his eyes. This was going to be a heck of a night. He could feel this with his growing - excitement.

***

“A fulfilled sexual fantasy always does the heart good.” Nikita purred from the door.

“And the body better…hell it is better than milk.” Michael wisecracked while putting on his sweater.

“All men have this cheerleader fantasy…I could do a split for you baby”. She shook pom-poms she had hidden behind her back while she glided across the wooden floor towards her awaiting…”my football hero.”

“American football, ehh”? Michael continued satirizing, Canadian accent on that ‘eh’.

“Or your Soccer will do” She wiggled her behind and her shoulders, he laughed.

“Give me a P” she approached him.

“Give me an E” she kissed his cheek.

“Give me an N” she licked his face, one long stroke.

“Give me a U” she nipped his jaw, which elicited a snarl.

“Give me an S” she kissed him lightly, he took her hands and cupped his raising manhood with them.

“Here, ask and ye shall receive.” He whispered, grabbed her a$$ with both his strong hands and whispered, “Let’s go, nymph…”

“No, here” she ground her hips against his, not releasing his ornaments which she eagerly stroked.

“Kita…please…I’ve got…” groan, bite, kiss, “other parts to this fantasy…” Michael wordlessly mumbled.

“Here.” She bit his lower lip.

“Je ne veux pas discuter. Allons.” He was wild, knelt in front of her and through the cloth of her panties sucked her apex with disdain for comfort or decorum. He bit her small pebble with devotion while sneaking the index fingers of both hands under the elastic encasing her legs at the joint.

She started to buck, her legs giving, so he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her like in an old movie where the heroine is swept off her feet by the strong male lead. His mouth affixed on her soaked panties, which he could reach because of her position in his arms.

“Mikewl!” She whimpered as she reached orgasm and let out a satisfied scream.

“Kita,” he laughed, “you are always a sucker for instant gratification.”

“You are always a dynamic ‘sucker’ Michael.” She tried to quip…failed miserable for she was out of her mind with the aftershocks of her first encounter of the Michael kind.

They got to the garage after Michael, without breaking a sweat, carried her quivering body. Hardly concentrating for she was raking her nails from his neck down to his buttocks. Reaching the tempting globes and squeezing with glee.

They arrived at the detached edifice that housed Michael’s true toys - antique cars, motorcycles, Porsche and the ever-popular male phallic symbol - the Corvette. A 1973 black Vette convertible in cherry condition, his non-human reason for being. “Now let’s screw like 16 year olds from L’Ecole, Oui?” Raising both eyebrows in mock, “fast and hard.”

Michael placed Nikita, like a sack of potatoes on the back seat of the car through the convertible top. She laid one leg on the back of the passenger front seat, one leg on the back where the convertible top lay. Michael whipped out his non-sixteen year old, very aroused, very erect, very large member and smiled at Nikita. “Ta-dah!” He exclaimed and spread his arms like a showman.

Nikita giggled uncontrollably and he follow suit, opening the door and accommodating the wanton blonde beauty who whispered, “Oh my” as he entered her fast, furious and with a desperate need.

“I love you my Kita.” He breathed in her ear as he reached a sky rocketing orgasm that shook them both to tears.

“Et j’aussie Mon Coeur.” The blonde attempted.

They kissed as they came down, Michael fully clothed but for his sex, Nikita disheveled cheerleading outfit, both spent - “Where did you get these uniforms?” he inquired as they got up to go to the bathroom.

“I had them made…heard somewhere that every man has this fantasy.” She answered.

He picked her up again, this time her legs around his waist, flushed hip to hip. She was hanging her head in such a way to allow him access to her overly sensitized breasts; he was kissing her nipples, lightly tugging at them with his teeth. Her feet were digging into his cheeks with force in order to keep herself balanced and him in control.

He took the stairs two steps at a time. Not hesitating, his powerful limbs purposely advancing on the adult playground with its adult toys. Two could take part in this game of fantasy gratification and he was going to do it well, and he was going to do it long and they were going to make a baby…if it took them a week or a month.

“When we leave this room next,” he said throwing her on the bed and starting to undress, “you will not be able to walk.” He grandiosely took off his pants, no underwear, his cardigan and tee shirt. Nude he looked like a Roman statue with its flag at full staff.

She lay on the bed legs spread as wide as she could hold them, her hands inside her thighs, “Hit them hard - Hit them hard…. way hard. Can I do the split now?” He was laughing again and growled as he landed on his knees and advanced ever so slowly to remove the blonde’s clothes.

He was reciting his steps, “Now let’s see, first the socks and tennis shoes exposing exquisite toes” he sucked each digit with joy, time his friend - he had all of it available for his enjoyment.

“Now the skirt. I’ve been trying to get into your skirt forever, babe!” He continued to play.

“Now the vest, Gasp.” He exposed her braless rosé tipped breasts, her peaks reflecting his passion of moments before. “Did I hurt you?” He was worried. “Stop now, and I will kill you.” She pushed his head down.

He smiled and proceeded to lick his way down to the panties. His tongue caressingly creeping just beneath the perimeter of the elastic waistband. “Kita” was call he could muster.

“Shh Michael, pleeeeze.” Wanton request in very hushed erratic tones.

And the licked, as he moved the panties down, every patch of skin and curls he found. He picked legs, folding them at the knee, planting her feet on the bed and smiling “Mother-may-I” he asked.

“Mhmm.” Was her incoherent reply to his riddle.

He finally started his precise concentration on her sex. First licking every fold painfully slow, he then kept his face close and blowing his warm breath on her parts. He took her fingers, placing them on her bud and looked up at her half shuttered eyes, again raising his brows in instruction.

She started touching herself while he licked, nipped, and joined in the stroking. She would move a finger, his tongue would follow, and so on. Nikita was out of her mind; her moans were one long sound echoing through the room. She tried to hold his head; he moved the hands back to her center.

“Kita” he whispered and she tried desperately to move, the intensity of the orgasm she was feeling threaten to end her sanity. Her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. But his heart was beating a deafening beat, matched only by the beat of his maleness against her leg. His tongue wet with her freesia, his eyes shut so tight that the tear of his pleasure slipped difficulty out of the corner of his lids.

“I am…there…OH MY LORD.” She screamed, squirming for he wouldn’t let her go, he would not stop the attack on her center. He would not let her come down, so he flipped her on her knees and swiftly entered her from behind.

“Here I’ll hold you, don’t let go, continue satisfying yourself baby, make me join you.” He said.

She was wild moving her rump and her waist up and down and around. Little continuous whimpers filling her infinite pleasure. He was himself in his knees pumping deeper and deeper subconsciously concerned for her pain, for her pleasure. He had nothing to fear for the rhythm established against her most pleasurable deep spot was fascinating, she felt herself reach orgasm in long escalating bursts.

“I can’t…” She was about to pass out, when she felt him stiffen, one long hard stroke and he spilled his seed in happily badgered being.

“Oh shit Kita…I…pant…love…pant…you…pant…pant…!” Michael proudly announced.

*** Michael and Nikita lay together in their beautiful bed, their legs intertwined, their fingers braided, their arms wrapped around each other. It was hard to see were one ended and the other began. Michael stroked her neck and chin with his gifted tongue. “Kita, are you cold?”

Michael was concerned for his wife’s skin was covered with goose bumps. She had a happy smile plastered from ear to ear. And she was still shivering. “Mmm” the satisfied blonde replied “No.”

“Do you want me to get a heavier cover?” Michael said concerned the sheet covering them was not enough.

“Mmm, No” she again mumbled.

“But look…” he tried again.

She interrupted sweetly, “I am goose bumpy because of your tongue…it is also responsible for the shivers Michael.” She licked her tongue to his.

Smiling, “Then I’ll just have to stop.” Lick, kiss, stroke.

“Don’t you dare. Let’s rest a bit.” She rubbed her behind to his slowly rising sex, and then led their intertwined hands to her delta.

“Mmm, in a minute…” again he flipped her and swiftly entered her.

They moved slowly, synchronized, like swimmers in the Olympics. They gazed at each other under Michael’s request not to close her eyes. Their mouth’s forming perfect ‘Os’ as their tongues out of their mouth, tips touching. Their arms above their heads, fingers intertwined and arms completely extended.

“Kita, get ready.” He told her, she nodded with eyes fixed on his. He started to shudder. His quivering crowned with the release of his warm smooth milk she loved so much.

“Ahh Mikewl, promise…” she was crying for he kept on moving giving her release, “promise you’ll let me taste you. I love you Michael”.

“I adore you my love.” He added and without uncoupling said, “Sleep now.” And they did, side by side, in each other, in sweet conclusion.

***

Michael’s long wonderful dreams returned. They were again wrapped in each other’s arms but they were in New York. The summer sun blared and Nikita and Michael had been in his apartment for more than a week. After their return from DC, loads of explanations, loads of groveling - from both sides - the making up commenced. And so far it had lasted a week.

“There was a song called Breaking up is hard to do.” Nikita said.

Michael added, “Hmm”, as he stroked her eyebrow with his thumb and faced each other after a long series of devastating sexual acts. The pair was just enjoying each other.

“Making up is…so much fun.” She moved down to his privates. “It is almost worthwhile to…”

“Don’t even joke about that, I never want to be away from you again.” Michael added.

Nikita asked, “Why?”

“Because I can’t live without you.” He said and they started their comforting love making again.

After some rest the couple dressed and went into the City to shop for food. They had both been away from their respective New York homes and needed to buy just about everything from food to paper goods. They walked hand in hand and stopped to eat at a neighborhood restaurant they both loved.

Nikita excused herself and went to the bathroom; she had not menstruated for about 3 months and had blamed the lack thereof on the stress she had been under. And here it was, although a very heavy period Nikita still didn’t worry, this flow probably due to her three months without.

She started to suffer of very painful cramps and after she was able to catch her breath she decided it would be better to go to an emergency clinic. She approached Michael who had ordered a Merlot and a chicken dish, healthy and delicious. Nikita decided to wait until after dinner to ask Michael to call the doctor.

She put on a brave front, didn’t even wince with the pain and drank the wine thinking that this would calm her cramps. Of course it made her menstruation heavier and she had to excuse herself one more time from the table.

When she returned Michael had paid the check and was waiting for her. “Why are we leaving, I wasn’t finished…you were not finished.”

“Do you think I can’t see how pale you are? There is something wrong, we are going now.” He said helping her with her sweater.

Once outside Nikita explained what was happening to Michael. He immediately took her to a neighbor of his who was a Gynecologist. The doctor after hearing the story and without even checking Nikita said, “Let’s go to the emergency room.”

Michael accompanied the blonde who was more terrified than anything else. She was in pain, but as most women; she had experienced painful periods before. But she was panic. Michael on the other hand was unruffled, his Kita was hurt and he couldn’t do anything to help except to offer her moral support.

After tests, cauterization and pain medication the doctor joined the couple. With great care and comfort the doctor told them that Nikita had a spontaneous miscarriage. This was not caused by any activity the blonde had been engaged in. On the contrary, the body was an amazing thing and if it found that something was wrong, it took care of correcting the problem - thus the expulsion of the pregnancy.

He again conveyed his sorrow and left them to their grief. Michael and Nikita held each other in silence…and at that moment Michael knew, as did the blonde, that they were to be together forever. And that if either of them went away again, the other one would cease to exist.

***

Michael awoke from his sleep with a jolt. He hated this nightmare; he hated to remember the sorrow and pain they still carried with them. He looked down at his sleeping wife and stoked her eyebrow with his thumb, a habit that Michael had developed during the grieving period. Should he be concerned the woman besides him wanted to try for a baby again?

Michael remembered how 24 hours after leaving the hospital his neighbor had appeared at their door and after asking Nikita how she felt had told her, to wait about a month and try again for a baby, things were not hopeless on the contrary, she was a very healthy young woman and should try again. Once alone, she had said, “Michael don’t bring it up again.”

“All right.” He had answered. And now at last she was ready again.

***

Michael fell back to sleep, holding Nikita well in his arms he dozed off again. With his slumber his dreams again returned. And now the blonde awoke for he was speaking out load. She could see the REM and waited listening before deciding if she should be waking him up.

“Voulez-vous devenir enceinte?” Michael was obviously speaking in French asking her if she wanted to get pregnant. “Voulez-vous avoir un bébé? Asking her if she wanted to have a baby. He smiled; even in his sleep the man melted her heart. “Are you sure?”

Nikita had a wicked thought. She inched her way to his manhood and found it surprisingly ready. She blew sugary breaths on it and slowly licked the tip, tasting almost immediately the sweet nectar announcing things to come.

Like a desperate survivor stranded in a desert that stumbles blindly unto an oasis, Nikita took his most precious possession in her able hands. She started worshiping it with such assiduousness and dedication that her eyes quickly filled with tears. She licked the strong column, the chord of all that is pleasurable and she attached her mouth to him in total ownership.

He was moaning, still deep in sleep, chanting her name like a hymn. He was truly a god of all things that are pleasing, delightful, and fulfilling. He was much more than that. Michael was an exact angel, understanding the good and the evil, separating the two and appreciative of the need for such miscellany.

Michael was all that was good in the world. A man with the soul of a saint, the strength of a warrior, the consciousness of a hero, the knowledge of a sage. His looks only lent to increase his incredible worth. They provided him with another weapon in the war against the despair his wife felt when she thought she had hurt him in the most miniscule way. Michael was Nikita’s being, her soul and her universe.

She continued her thoughts while carefully eliciting pleasure from his protruding sex. He, subconsciously unaware of her cautious ministrations, meowed and growled like a young lion cub - sweet looking, powerful, dangerous and very irresistible.

His hard member in her mouth, being swallowed and then being exposed. Her strong fist holding its base managing to hamper the flow of his pleasure too early up the vessel. Nikita’s own moans creating exquisite vibrations which threaten to rouse him from his peaceful slumber. She continued for minutes, or perhaps it was hours, and she almost wept with the superb rapture of feeling his warm sweet release mightily coating her greedy mouth.

“Kita” he whispered, still asleep, his voice deep, rough, and full of need.

“I love you Michael,” she whispered on his soft lips and wrapping herself around the object of her adoration, Nikita joined Michael one more time, in the restful land of blissful sleep.

***

It was back to dreaming this time Nikita’s dreams. They were at Paul and Madelyn’s first hotel at Mount Tremblanc in Montreal. Michael and Nikita had met in Canada and in Canada they would marry. It was early fall and the weather was perfect.

The beautiful mountain retreat was closed to the public. The Samuelle’s had prepared the wedding with such planning for Michael and Nikita had given that task to Madelyn and Adrian, who now was married to Walter. The women had gone all out, the wedding was a marvelous perfect affair.

The weather was chilly, but nothing unusual for this time of year. Nikita already a famous model had managed to get Oscar de La Renta to design the white satin and antique lace gown. Her hair up in curls fastened with diamond tipped pins included a short veil worn at the base of her hair.

The gown had very snug long sleeves cuffed with white fox trim. Her off the shoulder neckline also trimmed in the rich warm fur. The full skirt finished just above her white silk 1” pumps. The back of the gown included a row of tiny diamond buttons all along the length of the dress. She wore diamond studs and no other jewelry.

Her entrance at the Church, before moving the wedding party to the Hotel had been unforgettable Michael always said. She looked like an angel as she walked down the isle to the soulful sounds of a string quartet. She carried a bouquet of magnolias that had been flown in that morning. Every third pew was adorned with magnolias, candles and satin bows.

Michael’s nieces and nephew, 3 through 7 years of age, walked in front of Nikita carrying baskets of white rose petals. The girls wore white lace empire dresses trimmed in pink, the boy antique black velvet romper, and they looked like 18-century children. Michael wearing an Armani tuxedo, made especially by the designer for Michael, looked perfect. Together the couple looked like a Lenox porcelain piece, exquisite.

The Cardinal married them in a solemn ceremony, with Paul serving as Michael’s best man and Walter walking Nikita down the isle. They had few guests at the elegant wedding reception. The wedding dinner included lamb with a mint sauce, new potatoes, petit pois and radicchio salad. The wedding cake was white chocolate with a white raspberry sauce on the side.

They wedding party had dance until dawn and Michael and Nikita had left for their honeymoon around midnight. They had traveled to Alberta to board a cruise ship to Alaska. It had been an extraordinary time; Michael had been, as Michael always was, a perfect husband, a perfect lover, a perfect man. Of course no one was perfect he always said, except her.

The cruise had been etched in their mind. They had promenaded around the ship, watched the stellar show nature afforded them. She had enjoyed wearing those funky hats Michael found so amusing; he had enjoyed the whale sightings. The Aurora Borealis had been as indescribable as they had heard. So impressive in fact, that Michael had included a description of this trip in one of his books.

All in all the memories, like now the dream, were priceless. When Nikita opened her eyes, her husband was wrapped around her body. His eyes glued on her, studying every line, every nuance, every inch of his precious love.

“Good Morning” he said, his cadence mesmerizing the blonde.

“There is that smile.” She said. “I wake up in the arms of an angel every morning.”

He smiled again, “Kita, I need to go back to work next Monday, let’s make the best of the next four days.”

***

The next four days were spent in lust heaven, loads of sex, loads of loving and loads of satisfaction. This was the last night before Michael had to go back to the filming of the Indy Film he was taking to the Cannes Film Festival. Nikita was going for a 5 days shoot to Cancun Mexico - they were going to photograph her swimming with the dolphins.

The couple had prepared a romantic picnic dinner and had taken it, together with Tiki torches, to the shore by the lake. They’d laid down a blanket, a checkered table cloth, had taken out the candles, the Champagne and the music and now after eating were dancing to a slow romantic tune.

Nikita and Michael were almost inside each other that is how close they were dancing. He had both his hands on her butt and was caressing the cheeks by raking his nails on the very sheer fabric of her dress. She had her arms wrapped around Michael’s neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

They danced, ate and made love until the sun started to rise. Then they went inside, took a shower and she accompanied him in the limo to the airport, were a private plane took him to the film location. She would go back home, rest and leave a day later for her shoot.

At the side of the plane Nikita told Michael how much she loved him. He pledge his undying love to his wife and promised he would call the moment he landed…perhaps would call her from the plane. She told him to sleep on the plane and not to wake her up, for she was going to sleep uninterrupted until she had to get dressed to leave the next day.

He laughed, she was so uninhibited when saying goodbye she kissed his lips, rubbed herself against him and touched his privates. “Look at a woman and I will turn your from a bull to a cow in 3 seconds flat.” She said.

“I love when you become so…” his comment lost in the most moving kiss. “I love you” They told each other.

Michael watched through the window of the airplane as his wife waved goodbye until the plane disappeared from her sight. He sighed, for as far as Michael was concerned there was no vision as beautiful as his ‘ange.’ She cried all the way home.

***

As soon as Nikita’s shoot was finished, she joined Michael at the filming. It had been a surprise when she showed up and waited for him in his trailer. She had wrapped herself around his body and they had professed their love for each other with wanton disregard for decorum. Public displays of affection during the rest of the day.

Nikita had blushed when Michael whispered what he had been dying to do to her. “Wait ‘till we finish” he had told her “I am going to mark your body with my tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” she had inquired.

“See my needle? He answered, raising both eyes and smiling wickedly.

“Needle…hell Michael it is more like a PVC pipe…hard, long and acts like a conduit.”

“The hell with the filming, I am calling a wrap.” He laughed “What is a couple hundred grand when it means I could be buried in you?”

“Just finish Michael…I’ll be in your trailer.” She wiggled her cute behind as she walked away.

Michael yelled, “CUT. It’s a wrap for today.”

***

Michael and Nikita had been away from each other for over a month. She had been in Paris working; he had been finishing his movie. He had called her every night and shared his day with her. She had complained about her long days and gossiped about her brethren. Every night they had incredibly hot telephone sex that lasted at least two hours.

“What are you wearing?” Michael would start smile on his face and hand on himself.

“A baby doll - pink and see through.” She would whisper already feeling tingly.

“Tell me about it.” He would add and so it went.

On this night to Nikita and Michael’s rich sex life the following episode was added. Michael had a rough day; he had entertainment reporters swarming around him. Someone, he didn’t know who, had spread a rumor about Michael’s sexuality because of the movie’s gay theme.

He had told his wife to be ready for some really bad publicity and for some intrusive visits from the yellow journalists that inhabit the planet. She had decided to make Michael feel better by ignoring the horrid time ahead. Her opinion dismissive of the problem, she was going to be sure none of this ridiculous situation was going to cause difficulties between them. The words legal action had been traded between the lovers.

“Michael sweetheart, the only way these guys would report the truth is if they watched us making love to each others so … You cannot fix this alone, I am on my way back home this weekend and so are you, we’ll overcome this…now to the sex part, I am ready.

He let out a laugh, “I love you Kita, and you bet I am ready too. What are you wearing?”

“A baby doll trimmed around the hem in white fur.” She coquettishly answered.

M: “Mmm, are you cold?”

N: “Not for long, the white fur is around my neck now.”

M: “Take it off, I want you naked, like I am, not a stitch between you and me and our lustful time. Where are your hands?”

N: “My hands are slowly caressing my breasts. God Michael my nipples are hard and pointy, I am tweaking the left one with my fingers, wait…let me tweak my right one. I am pulling on them, while I rake my fingernails along my chest, under my breasts and over my waist.”

M: “Mmm, are you wet?”

N: “Gawd Michael…gasp…my delta is overflowing, I feel the juices rolling down my folds…gasp…if I move…Mmm…” She reached the first orgasm of the night. Nikita let out a primal yelp; he smirked wickedly and started his devastating French discourse…calming her down for he knew her highs were monumental.

M: “Focus Nikita…get the cream from the night stand, dip just the tip of your finger…Mmm…just the tip of your finger in the cold smooth cream and bring the wet index to the nutty hard spot.”

Michael was gasping as much as Nikita. He was hard and his flag was at full mast, he was ignoring it…or trying to…until his wife instructed him in its use. The moans already filled the phone lines; they had discussed the fact that their whimpers were a determent to their phone lovemaking.

N: “I can’t focus with you so present Michael. Touch yourself, let your hand pretend it is mine, let your fists hold your sex while your hand rakes those male nipples that I love to lick and suck. Do it Michael, call my name. Imagine my mouth around your organ, first blowing cool breaths unto the tip of your manhood. Feel me lick the pre-climax, sweet and fulfilling.”

He was pumping furiously. “Mmm, Kita je t’adore.”

She swallowed noisily, smacked her lips and groaned out his name “Mykoll.” She was ready again, her tension building until her hips were off the bed, her fingers buried deep within her, her mouth opened, that yelp released again. “Are your ready…are you?”

Michael was solidly satisfying his imaginations’ desire. He was accomplishing the need that constantly was within his psyche. He needed Nikita as much as he needed to breath. He needed her scent, her touch, her feel, her presence and her essence.

“I am ready…with me baby, do it with me…”

And they both reached that place all humans strive for. That space between sanity and madness were our paradise inhabits, were our illusions reach reality and push us over the edge. Were each and every one of us, in our own way, reach perfection. And were we would all love to live and were we all love to die. Heaven!

***

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes and for all kinds of deeds. Nikita sang at the top of her lungs, and as always…out of tune. “Did I ever tell you you’re my hero…” Michael walking into their home was smiling from ear to ear, his clothing unusually dirty, covered with mud and clay.

“Kita I missed you so much… what’s new?” He kissed her as if nothing had happened and she continued.

“You’re everything I could never be.” Her arms extended feigning flight, “And I could fly higher than an eagle…” He kissed her again.

Together laughing, “For you are the wind beneath my wings.”

The road to their home was an uphill curvy two-lane road. The paparazzi and the tabloid reporters were following Michael. He was being extra careful on purpose, no sense giving them more fuel for their articles.

On the way to the house from the airport Michael had come upon an accident. A station wagon had hit a tree and the woman driving had managed to get out of the car. The car was dripping gasoline from the dented gas tank. The woman’s 8-month-old daughter was still in the child safety seat, seat belt safely fastened. The child was not making a sound.

Michael came to a stop when he saw the woman screaming next to a ditch. The car had bounced off the tree and rolled unto the ditch, the automobile could not be seen from the road. Without hesitation he ran to the ditch, half submerge in muck he could see the back seat and trunk part of the car sticking out. He yelled at the paparazzi to call Rescue and to see to the woman. The men yelled at Michael not to go near the ditch. There was a gasoline leak and the fumes were overwhelming Michael heard them say. He yelled again to call 911.

One of the paparazzo’s surreptitiously photographed the accident. Michael risking his own safety crawled into the car, released the baby and carried her out to safety. As soon as Michael and the baby were clear of the car, it first went up in flames and then exploded, throwing Michael across the road. The baby unharmed finally began to cry and held on to the handsome movie star.

The ambulance arrived and the paramedics went on to take care of the mother and the baby now being held by Michael, cooing at him while he played with her. He had a scraped elbow. He finally called his wife and told her what was going on, including that his favorite leather jacket had a torn sleeve.

“Michael…. you are a brave man, heroic deeds provide torn clothing, don’t know if I am going to get it fixed, you need a badge of courage…do you want me to come get you?” Nikita said laughing.

“No my love…I’ll be home in about 5 minutes. I love you.” He finished, the hidden photographer snapped pictures and took notes.

Michael recounted the story for his bride. She was ohhing, ahhing, clapping and giggling. Jumping up and down and kissing his face…many times, loudly. He was dramatically and purposely narrating in great detail the incident.

“Michael, just like in a movie…you are THE MAN.” She dreamily added taking the ringing phone off the hook.

“Superman wants super sex with his wife…let’s go woman.” He picked her up, fireman style and carried her to their bedroom and their bed. They made love, talked and ate in the buff. Nikita turned on the 11 o’clock news and saw Michael’s story in every channel.

The paparazzi had sold his pictures and story, which as far as Michael was concerned should have been kept quiet. He called the Mother to check on her and the baby’s well being. He explained how he felt about this type of promotion and apologized to the woman’s amazed amusement.

“Michael this could change all that bad publicity.” The blonde told him while sitting on his lap, facing him, feeding him pecans he had brought her from the movie location somewhere in South Georgia. He loved his wife and told her. “Kita” he hissed from the feeling of her taught body on his naked lap.

***

Michael and Nikita were lying intertwined in the bed. His head pillowed on Nikita’s lap, his arms around her waist, her semi prone body engulfing him. His body nestled between her legs, which in turn were wrapped around part of his torso. The fulfillment and contentment exhibited satisfyingly on their beautiful faces; it had been a night of celebrating and passion. Now the early morning found them resting.

Michael opened his eyes and was confronted with his wife’s sweet sex. She was soft and smelled of woman who had been perfectly loved. His tongue sneaked out of his mouth and he carefully, precisely and gently lapped like a hungry cat having found a bowl of cream.

Her legs tightened around him and her body unconsciously squirmed. The movement accommodated Michael’s talented tongue and gave him better access to the honey now freely flowing from the blonde. Her mouth forming the fourth vowel “O” no sound, just motion. Again her body jerked and blindly followed his tongue begging with insistent movements for his lips to attach themselves to her and for his teeth to nip at the center of her universe.

Hungrily now, he vacuum the heavenly nectar from his wife’s juicy fruit. She squirmed and held his head to her with fragility and tender care. He voice, hardly audible chanted his name in her thick Aussie accent “Mykoll, Mykoll, Mykoll…” This prayer encouraging the man on, his talented mouth hungrily showing her he acutely cared.

Michael felt her buck yet again; she would try to squirm away from the intensity of her completion. He would force her to endure this torturous pleasure, which threaten to end her sanity. And when he would start to disengage, her hips would, like sonar, seek, find and re-engage.

He smiled and licking his way, traveled up to her breasts. Like a babe needing sustenance he now attached himself to the source of nourishment of mankind. Her hands deftly buried on his copper highlighted curls danced a ballet of caress. She continued her moaning, he continued his chores and they met in a pleasure filled sanctuary that endangered them both. Their hearts filled with love beat a staccato hammering rhythm as descriptive as jungle drums. The message being ‘here love two people in lustful commitment.’

Now his assault on her womanhood’s primary targets completed he moved to the taunting neck. There his tongue licked, his teeth nipped, his breath warmed, his attention filled. There the tiny hairs of her skin made it impossible to escape the tantalizing caress. There he carefully and precisely meandered through her hairline sending chards of liquid ecstasy to his manhood while eliciting a curse when the tongue moved on in its quest.

His hands had been touching, stroking, feeling the contour of her body, of her now neglected breasts. Tweaking the pink tips, which mimicked the pebbled center of her being. He would, like in a hit and run aerial attack, tweak the pebble, move on, just to return taunting more.

He was silent, enthralled by his progress, serious in his task. He far past sanity gained total pleasure with his ministrations of his wife. The woman who filled his mind constantly, the one who he devoted his every though to, the only being in this world that he would lay his life down for this woman, his Nikita.

Michael did everything right or he wouldn’t do it at all. By his wife’s demeanor the handsome man could see she was oh so satisfied and oh so ready for him. He whispered “Lay down.” She obliged him and without further ado entered her, swiftly, smoothly, expertly and a bit smugly. “Ahh” he uttered, like saying here I am…daddy is home.

They moved together like Fred and Ginger, in, out, around, counter clockwise, smoothly, fast, slow, hesitantly, and so on. He would pull completely out, hover, and plunge back in. Her hazy blue eyes lovingly affixed on his sharp lustful green ones. Their tongues out of their velvet boxes, licking one another and every once in a while nipped by one then the other.

Their lips being licked, bit, sucked, first by Nikita, then by Michael, and so on. He held on, when his world threatened to explode he would switch direction, change tactic, pull out, call on his control and start again…in, out, around, and so on. Her fingernails raked a red-carpeted pattern along his glorious behind. The soft pillows inviting her to stay, her wounding caress leaving proof of her visit on its wake.

“Kita” he whispered, “are you ready.” Speech slaughtered, accent dominating the sound.

“Mmm” was all she could muster.

“Come with me my love…” and they did. The heartwarming and rewarded sounds filled the room. The man and the woman conquerors of their purpose, impelled in each other, returned to the slumber they drifted out of an eternity ago.

***

Michael went on with the business of writing his next screenplay; he was thrilled for he was indulging in his creative process from the comfort of his home. Nikita was working solely close to home, no European shows, no overseas shoots, nothing more than 50 miles away. So the photographers were coming to her.

Michael and Nikita would start the day around 7:30 in the morning. He would make love to his wife; they would exercise together and then trot around their property for about 5 miles. Shower together, which usually led to more lovemaking; fruit, cereal, coffee and juice and Michael would go into the detached office space and write while he listened to a variety of music, smoked too much and drank too much coffee…but he did create.

Nikita answered the phone; it was an unwritten rule that Michael’s time crafting his next novel would not be interrupted. Michael’s agent needed to speak with him, Nikita refused to call Michael. “I am sorry Jean Pierre but Michael would kill me…can you wait until he takes his break? And so Mr. Beauport would wait for Michael.

Michael came out of the office and went to the pool. He dove in and did 6 laps before he saw his lovely wife, feet dangling in the cool water, at the end of the pool. “Hey baby! She said, he swam to her and padded his feet, kissed them, sucked on her toes and smiled sweetly.

“Hi, how long have you been sitting here?” He asked.

“Since your first lap, are you hot? She followed.

“I’m hot now, you do this to me…. I am stuck - the setting is not working, I think I need to change the locale of the story.” He informed drying the water on his face by using his hand.

“Can I help?” She added raking her fingers through his wet hair.

“Of course, come read what I’ve got, tell me what I’m missing.” He said while he pulled himself out of the pool.

She handed him a towel and helped him dry off, they kissed and walked hand in hand to the office. “Call JP.” She said as she booted up the laptop.

As Michael dressed, “What did he want?”

“I don’t know he didn’t say. Shh I am reading.” She answered.

Michael patted Nikita’s head, kissed her mouth and walked out to the back to speak with his agent. He was sitting in a swing and discussing something with JP when Nikita finally came out of the Office. Grabbed him by the waist and kissed his chin, biting him.

“JP I’ve got to go, Kita needs to speak to me. Au revoir.” He winked at the blonde and hung up.

Nikita gave Michael her take on the story so far. He listened intently, considered her suggestions and thanked her. She was naturally whimsical and her suggestions to this particular love story were wonderful. Michael asked her to collaborate with him, she giggled, “Moi?” The discussion would continue.

The couple walked into their main house were the staff milled around and the cook told Michael she had made a white chocolate mousse. Michael kissed the older woman, “Merci.” He told her and served himself a goblet of the delicacy.

“Michael you’ll spoil your lunch.” Nikita said taking a spoonful of the concoction Michael was planning to eat himself. “Mmm, Merci Marie…”

“Sit down, I’ll serve you.” Marie said.

“Non, I want to eat by the lake, put everything in a picnic basket. I’ll be right back.” Nikita said going towards the bathroom.

Michael chatting amicably with the cook helped her pack the lunch. A cold breast of chicken, crudités with a blue cheese dressing, coleslaw, home made sweet potato chips and sour dough buns. For desert mixed berries in sugar. Michael chose a particularly good Chardonnay and also packed iced tea. With everything packed up in the picnic basket, he asked Marie to tell Nikita he would be by the lake.

Michael rode his mountain bike to the lake. Took off his shirt and set the rustic table under the very large oak tree, serving two glasses of the wine. He took off his sandals and waded in to pull out a large branch that was floating in the water.

He turned when he heard the faint sounds of Aerosmith in the background. Nikita had driven the Hummer, too lazy to walk. She was singing at the top of her lungs, he laughed; she always did that to him…brought out his whimsy.

“Wait until you hear what JP just called to say…” She hollered, “He let me give you the news.”

Michael was smiling, this light was his wife, this beauty was his life. “Do tell.” He said approaching the car and kissing her mouth.

“You have been, again, nominated for Best Actor. The movie was nominated for best movie. How do you like them apples?” She said throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a deep kiss.

“Mmm, does this mean we are going to celebrate here? He added, smiling an evil grin.

“OK, but no water…” this said as he carried her, taking her clothes off on the way, into the lake.

Before entering, “Mikewl my watch…” Too late the blonde was submerged and her husband was kissing her, groping her and making passionate love to her.

“I bet you love to make love to an Academy Award nominee.” He said.

“Mmm, sorry but every night I sleep with an Academy Award winner…been there done that.” She retorted.

The couple indulged their fantasies, ate and rested under the tree until the sun hid behind the clouds. They returned to their home, both in the Hummer, bike in the back. Michael went back to work, JP called again.

“Kita” Michael said over the intercom, having answered JP’s call. “Can you come here please”?

She didn’t even answer, skipped over to the office and burst through the door smiling. “I was listening. “ She smirked.

“I know,” he added.

“Barbara Walters is coming…yahoo, we are going to show off the house.” She said.

“Now, can you please really tell me how you feel about this?” He sarcastically provided.

“You…I love you Michael…” She quipped.