4
Katya
Even though he had been dismissed – thrown out, in effect – by Harriet, Tom was nevertheless glad he had taken the opportunity to make love to her when it came. He hoped the dismissal would be temporary, but there was no way to tell at this point. He had gone back to his flat, silently thankful that he hadn’t given it up when he moved in with Harriet. Had he somehow foreseen the row which had resulted in this unexpected homecoming? He thought not. Keeping the flat on had probably been due to his habit of putting things off until tomorrow, a habit Harriet had reinforced by taking control of every aspect of his life, making all the decisions for him. He had enjoyed the time with her, and hoped to return to her if she got over her pique. That might take some time, he thought, given Harriet’s temperament. Still, there was nothing to do but wait her out, and in the meantime there were several things he could do, not all of them dull or routine.
There was the matter of Katrina Roos, for one thing. Before this latest contretemps, Harriet had told him that he would be going to Amsterdam in a day or so to visit her in the line of business – as Harriet’s deputy. Tom had been interested. The young Dutch woman had been a willing sex partner during her visit to Harriet’s home, and Tom was looking forward to seeing if she would be as good in her native place. There was some truth behind the notion that people often did things on holiday which they would never think of doing while at home, but Tom hoped Katrina didn’t fit into that category. He had Katrina’s telephone number, and she had no way of knowing that he had been dismissed by Harriet. He might not even have to tell her about that, though he doubted his altered status vis-à-vis Harriet would matter to Katrina. They had, after all, established a relationship of their own even though Harriet had been present the whole time.
Tom glanced at his watch. It was the middle of the morning on a normal business day. Ari, Katrina’s husband, would probably be at work. He doubted if Ari would have any serious objection to Tom visiting his wife, but it would be less awkward if he could talk directly to Katrina and find out if it was convenient. He hoped she would be able to see him without delay. If nothing else, the re-encounter with Katrina would stop him worrying about what might happen with Harriet. He picked up the telephone and dialled the code for Holland. Luck was with him. Katrina picked up the phone after three rings.
She was alone. No, Ari was not out of town on business, but she thought there would be no trouble in arranging a ‘visit’ to a friend’s house for the next weekend. Her friend, Katrina said, would cover for her in case anyone called looking for her. Could Tom come on Friday? He could. Katrina sounded eager and happy. They arranged to meet at the central station in Amsterdam – Tom knew it from past visits and would have no trouble. Katrina said she would pick him up: wait for her near the quay where the cruise boats were tied up. It was as simple as that. Almost as an afterthought, Katrina asked how Harriet was doing. Tom said she was all right, but offered no further details. Nor did Katrina ask for any. When he hung up he felt much better – now there was something to look forward to besides worrying about Harriet’s future actions and moods. And, in the unlikely event that she called him, he wouldn’t be there. That might cause her to worry a bit about him. Two could play hard to get as well as one could.
Tom’s next call was to the travel agent. He booked an afternoon flight to Schiphol with an open return. The stay with Katrina might somehow extend itself, and even if it didn’t he might want to see some more of Amsterdam. He liked the feeling of freedom the plan gave him.
On Friday he arrived early at Heathrow. The flight was short, but Tom still found himself becoming impatient. At Schiphol he hurried through the airport and caught the train that would take him to Amsterdam. Once there, he made his way to the forecourt of the station. The day was warm and clear, and the crowds of buskers and touts were plying their trade among the crowds of visitors. There was a long queue at the office that sold tickets for the canal cruises. Tom crossed the bridge at the foot of Damrak and turned right, making for the Holland Line dock.
Katrina spotted him before he saw her, and she waved gaily. Tom hurried to meet her, and she fell into his outstretched arms as if she belonged there. Katrina opened her mouth to him, her tongue thrusting into his mouth with an eagerness that promised well for the next few days. No one paid any attention to them.
When they broke apart he held her at arm’s length and looked into her face. ‘You’re more beautiful than when I saw you last. Have you been getting younger on the sly?’
Katrina laughed at the compliment, and took his arm with both of hers. ‘Come along. We will walk to my friend’s house. It is quicker, and you only have the one overnight bag. We can pick up some cheese and wine and sausages at the shop on the way. I have a car we can use later for some sightseeing, if you really want to go out. But I plan to keep us both busy at indoor sports for most of the time. I hope you are feeling strong and well rested.’
Tom smiled and kissed her again. He was feeling better already.
They walked down Damrak away from the railway station, crossing over to the canal side to enjoy the view there. The opposite side was one long string of souvenir shops, travel and tour companies and restaurants. The Dutch habit of taking meals or refreshment
al fresco
was abetted by the fine weather, and the sidewalk cafes were packed. Not so the side on which Tom and Katrina walked. They turned left at the head of the canal, entering the warren of small streets, alleys and shops that fringed the red-light district.
‘I have borrowed a friend’s apartment on Gelderskade for the next few days. She is in Den Haag for a few days, so we will not be disturbed. I told Ari I would be visiting her this weekend, and she is the one who will cover for me in case he calls. Of course, if he goes looking for me, the game is up. He will divorce me and you will have to marry me.’ Katrina squeezed his arm more tightly to underline the joke. ‘But he will not. We are safe. Or at any rate you are. See what trouble I have gone to just so we can have a wonderful time?’
‘I’m impressed. You
have
been thorough. I’ll do my best to see your efforts are repaid.’
‘Of course you will. I will not let you leave until I cannot stand any more.’ Katrina leered suggestively, licking her lips with a delicate pink tongue.
‘You look just like a cat when you do that,’ he told her.
‘And do you like cats?’ she rejoined.
‘I’m a card-carrying cat person,’ Tom reassured her. ‘Are we going to be in the middle of the red-light district?’ he asked as they crossed the canal in Oude Zijds Voorburgwaal.
‘No, but nearby. I do not intend to share you with the ladies behind the windows. But we can walk along and look later, and if you see anything that interests you we will go back home and try it out. And the most interesting sex shops are here. We can get anything you fancy.’
‘Just now I fancy you,’ Tom told her.
‘I am available.’ Katrina smiled and tugged him along to a butcher’s shop. ‘Let us get the things now so we do not have to go out again until we both want to.’
A few minutes later, as they passed a small shop, Katrina suddenly said, ‘Tomorrow you’re going to take me back here and watch while they pierce my nipples and . . . how do you say . . . transfix them? No, I mean fix steel rings in them.’
Tom was taken by surprise. He glanced up and saw that they were passing a shop front which bore the legend ‘Body Piercing’, in both Dutch and English. ‘What did you say?’
‘We will come here tomorrow and you can watch while they put steel rings through my nipples. I wanted to have it done for Ari’s birthday – a present for him. But for you too. You will be able to see it done, and to admire the work afterwards. Then I can take myself back home and unveil myself again for Ari. Two presents for the price of one. Very economical. Very Dutch.’
The thought of Katrina nude except for her nipple rings gave Tom an erection, which he strove to conceal with one of the carrier bags.
Katrina noticed. She laughed and deliberately rubbed her hips against it, only aggravating the problem. ‘Look,’ she said, entirely too loudly for Tom’s composure, ‘you have gone all hard. Do you think you will be able to hold it until we get indoors?’
‘Why don’t you point and shout as well?’ he asked, but he was smiling too. It’s hard to be angry at a woman who first gives you an erection and then tells you she is interested in doing something with it.
They came to a canal and turned up the street that ran along it.
‘Almost there,’ Katrina told him. ‘The apartment overlooks the canal and in the distance you can see the river.’
Katrina stopped outside a tall narrow house with a flight of steps leading up to the front door. ‘Home,’ she said simply, leading Tom to the door and producing a key. She let them into the lower hallway, which ran through the building from front to back. ‘We are on the top floor. It is quite a climb, but the view and the privacy are worth it. Since this was once a warehouse, there are a number of features you’ll find useful for creative B&D.’
The steep stairway seemed endless, twisting its way up through the house. Tom was breathing heavily when they finally reached the door. He followed Katrina into a small, high-ceilinged room with a window that overlooked the back of the nearby houses and the small garden four flights down. It was a bit like looking down into a well. Katrina handed Tom a bottle of wine and a corkscrew, and busied herself putting away their purchases, mainly into the fridge.
‘The glasses are in the cupboard by the sink,’ she told him, her head in the fridge and her bottom in the air.
Tom set the bottle down and moved over to stand behind her. He flipped her skirt up over her head. Katrina continued with her task as if she spent a large part of her time that way. She wore stockings and suspenders. No pants.
‘For you. I dressed for you,’ she said from her head-down position.
Silently, Tom gazed at her long legs and firm bottom. He could see her blonde pubic hair peeping between her parted thighs. She bent down even further, the suspenders taut across her bottom. Katrina looked back between her legs at Tom, giving him an upside-down smile. Tom knelt behind her. He parted her cheeks, exposing the tight pink rosebud of her arsehole. Bending forward, he kissed it, causing Katrina to sigh. He drew back, and used his tongue to probe her. Katrina braced herself with both hands against the fridge and spread her legs wider, opening herself for him. As he kissed and tongued her arsehole, he used his hands to caress her thighs, the sheer nylon of her stockings smooth under his touch. He could feel the muscles tighten and relax under her skin as she shifted position slightly.
Katrina moaned softly but made no effort to direct his slow exploration of her. Occasionally Tom felt a shiver pass through her body as her excitement grew. He was erect, his cock pressing painfully against his trousers, but he was too intent on arousing Katrina to undress himself. There would be plenty of time for that. He changed tactics, sliding his forefinger slowly into Katrina’s anus, touching her sphincter gently until it relaxed and his finger could penetrate her fully. With his other hand he reached between her legs to caress first her labia and then to slide inside her and touch the taut, slippery button of her clitoris.
‘
Ahhh, Gott
, Tom,
dit vuult goed
.’ In her excitement Katrina slipped into her native Dutch, but her meaning was clear enough.
Tom slid his finger gently in and out of her anus. He could feel her muscles tighten around it as she came, the first orgasm accompanied by a soft groan and a tightening of the muscles in her thighs. Katrina’s knees buckled slightly as she came again, and then she began to rock herself backward and forward in time with the thrusting of his finger and the pressure on her clitoris. Tom matched her rhythm. Katrina’s third orgasm came with a muffled scream. Her face was turned to one side, her mouth pressed against her forearm as she sought to stifle her cries. The rasping sound of her breathing was loud in the room as she surrendered herself to his touch. Her forearms were braced tautly, stopping her from falling forward as she stood head down before the fridge.
Katrina came once more, with another muffled groan, then she gasped, ‘Tom, come inside me quickly. I want to feel you inside me!’
Tom withdrew his finger from her anus and Katrina turned to face him, her skirt falling once more and covering her legs. They stood pressed against one another, their mouths open as they kissed. Katrina’s tongue was in his mouth, then his was in hers. Locked together, they lurched to the table, where Tom drew out a chair and sat down. Katrina drew his zipper down and reached inside his trousers to grasp his cock. She drew it out, caressing gently, weighing it in her hand. Tom lifted her skirt once again, bunching it around her waist and touching her thighs once again. She straddled him and lowered herself until she could sit in his lap. Quickly she guided his cock inside her. Then she put her arms around his neck and drew herself tightly to him, sliding all the way down his cock, fully penetrated now.
As Katrina began a gentle rising and falling movement with her hips, Tom unbuttoned the top of her dress, freeing her breasts to his touch. He bent and took one nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and nipping gently at it. One hand took her other breast while his free arm encircled her waist, pulling her lower body down against him. They rocked in the chair, Katrina groaning softly as her climaxes took her. To Tom it seemed as if she was having one continuous orgasm. The spasms racked her body, driving the breath from her lungs in throaty moans. Katrina buried her face in his shoulder as if to shut out the rest of the world as she came. Her fine blonde hair was in his face, smelling of her perfume. He closed his eyes and inhaled the odour of the woman in whose body he was buried.