Agony Aunt (21 page)

When he turned back to her, she had slipped the top of her dress down and off her arms. She let it drop to the floor and stepped out of it, standing before him clad only in her stockings and suspenders. She was suddenly shy, not looking at him.

He moved over to stand in front of her, lifting her chin so that he could look into her eyes. ‘You can still pull out, you know. Just say the word.’

Almost fiercely, she said, ‘No. I am going to do it. I just wanted you to help me with it.’

Tom nodded. ‘Tell me what you want me to do. Besides playing the part of your husband, that is.’

Katrina smiled at him. ‘Yes, there is that.’

‘Is there anything else?’

‘Help me to sit on the table, and then hold me for a minute.’

Tom lifted her with his arms around her waist, then shifted his hold so that one arm was around her waist and the other around her shoulders. Katrina spread her legs so that he could move closer to her. They stayed close for what seemed like a long time.

Katrina seemed to have taken courage from his closeness. ‘Look at my breasts,’ she told him. ‘This is the last time you’ll see them this way. Kiss them as you did before.’

He bent and kissed each breast, lingering on her nipples so that they grew hard and crinkly. Drawing back, he told her, ‘They look lovely, and I’m sure they’ll look even lovelier when this is done.’

‘I hope so,’ Katrina said. ‘Just one more thing. Should the rings go in horizontally or vertically?’

Katrina was serious, so after a moment Tom answered seriously. The choice didn’t matter much. What counted was the way he expressed it. And his complicity in this affair. ‘Horizontally,’ he said firmly.

Katrina nodded, accepting his decision. ‘Call the woman back, please. I am ready.’

Tom opened the door and called to the receptionist. When she saw Katrina sitting on the table, she looked questioningly at her. Katrina didn’t say anything, and neither did Tom. For his part, he didn’t know what Katrina wanted him to say. But when it was apparent that no answers were forthcoming, the woman shrugged and closed the door, locking it behind her.

She went to the cupboard and began placing various implements in a metal basin before moving over to the table.

‘Ready?’

Katrina nodded, glancing down to the tray which contained the nipple rings she had selected.

‘I forgot to ask whether you wanted the rings fixed horizontally or vertically.’

The remark was addressed to Katrina, but she remained silent. When it became clear that she was not going to answer, Tom said, ‘Put them in horizontally.’

Katrina looked up at him gratefully, and then back down at her breasts; exposed, vulnerable, waiting.

The woman stepped between Tom and Katrina. Much as he would have liked to watch the process in detail, Tom said nothing, merely waiting and watching Katrina’s face. She glanced down at herself from time to time, but gave no sign of discomfort. Mainly she looked interested. When the job was done, the woman withdrew to the front of the shop once more to allow her clients some privacy in which to view the results.

As soon as the door closed, Tom went to Katrina’s side.

She had been looking down at herself, examining her newly acquired ornaments. At his approach she looked up at him and smiled. ‘It will be days before I can wear a bra,’ she said lightly.

‘Then it’s a good job you aren’t wearing one now,’ Tom told her with a smile. It was his way of lightening the mood.

‘I think I will be ready for a public appearance in a few minutes,’ said Katrina. ‘I will get dressed and pay the torturer her fee. After that I will need a strong drink.’

Tom watched silently as she got into her dress. As she buttoned the front over her breasts he asked, ‘How do you feel?’

‘It is like having your ears pierced – but a lot more erotic.’ Katrina picked up her handbag and they left the room.

At the counter in the front of the shop Katrina stopped to pay the woman. Then they went out into the early evening. The shadows were lengthening and the air was cool. Katrina took his arm and led him back towards Damrak and the central station. They stopped at a cafe with tables on the pavement and Tom bought drinks for them.

As he sat across the table from her, Tom could see Katrina’s nipples outlined under her dress. He imagined the rings that now adorned them and wondered if he could ever persuade Harriet to have her nipples pierced. And if she would ever get over her anger and let him come back. But he pushed the thoughts away. This was Amsterdam. Harriet was back in London, and Katrina was here.

‘I would like to take you on a canal cruise tonight, Tom. There is a trip with dinner on the boat that I like. There are candles on the tables – all very romantic. And we can get off the boat just opposite the apartment. Just think how much taxi fare that will save.’ Katrina laughed softly. It was a happy sound.

‘That sounds like a good idea. I’ll sit across the table from you and devour you with my eyes as we eat, and you’ll try to keep from flinging yourself into my arms.’ He laughed in his turn.

‘It will be hard to wait, but we must be brave.’ Katrina regarded him levelly, but there was laughter her eyes.

They finished their drinks and continued towards the station.

At the quay opposite the station plaza Katrina booked their places on the cruise. ‘We will be going on the
Abel Tasman
,’ she told him. ‘All the company’s boats are named after famous Dutch explorers. We have about an hour before it is time to get aboard, and we can have another drink here while we wait.’ She searched her handbag for money to pay for their tickets.

Tom was too quick for her. He handed the clerk his credit card before she could find her purse.

‘Tom, let me pay, please,’ Katrina protested. ‘This is my town. You are my guest.’

‘No. This is my treat.’ In an undertone he added, ‘After all, you got the nipple rings. The least I can do is pay for dinner.’

Katrina laughed helplessly, still protesting. ‘At least let me pay half – go Dutch, as you say. This is Holland, and when in Amsterdam . . .’

‘Try to outmanoeuvre the Dutch,’ Tom finished for her.

Katrina surrendered. ‘All right, if it makes your male ego feel better. But if you pay this, there will be another price. You must call me Katya. All my good friends and lovers do.’

Tom could see that she was serious despite the joking tone. ‘All right . . . Katya. Now let’s take a table and have another drink.’

They sat quietly in the gathering dusk, sipping their drinks and watching the passers-by. Amsterdam seemed to come to life after dark, where most English cities died. Gradually others joined them on the canalside terrace, waiting for the cruises that departed from this quay. The boats came in to disgorge their passengers, manoeuvring deftly alongside the dock and shifting berths in an intricate dance. The
Abel Tasman
came alongside, and they watched the catering staff carrying food and crockery aboard for the dinner cruise. The candles were lit at the tables, and the boat lay waiting for its passengers.

When the boarding was announced, Tom took Katrina’s hand to help her to her feet. ‘They’re playing our song, Katya. I hope you’re hungry.’

Katrina smiled at the sally as she followed him aboard. They were among the first to board and took a table at the rear, at Katrina’s suggestion. ‘More romantic here. Fewer people passing by. And there is a better chance that we will have the table to ourselves. My tits are not numb any longer, and I might come again. But I will try to eat and not think of sex all the time.’

Tom thought that might not be too easy. He also pointed out that their table was nearest the toilets. ‘Won’t there be a stream of people using them?’

‘Oh, no. Most people prefer to look well bred, as if they never need to use public toilets. We will be quite private here.’

‘Why do we need such privacy?’ Tom asked teasingly.

‘Because I want you to be able to touch me – my legs, my breasts, my shiny new rings – without anyone else knowing what we are doing. Then, when we are both so excited we feel we must fuck here and now –’ Katrina paused for effect, then continued ‘– we will not be able to. By the time we get back to the house we will be in a terrible state. We will have to rush up all those steps before we can fall into bed. But it should be sensational when we finally get there. Does that sound like fun to you?’

‘If that’s what you want, Katya, I’ll do my best for you. But how do you know you won’t come right here on the boat while I’m touching you up?’

‘I do not know. Maybe I will come, but if I do I will try not to scream. I will try to be what you call a lady.’

‘That may take more effort than you imagine. In any case, ladies were never much to my taste. I prefer women like you.’ Tom leant across the table to kiss her. Katrina laughed gaily. Clearly she was enjoying the evening and his company. And he was enjoying hers. Katrina was just what he needed.

The lights of the bridges and the streets slid by outside the glass-enclosed boat as they moved along the canals of the old city. When dinner had been served, the waitress moved to the bows to do the commentary on the sights. Tom and Katrina were left in private in their dark corner. He lifted her skirt to the tops of her thighs and caressed them while she ate, running his hand over the boundary between her bare flesh and the tops of her stockings. Katrina leant against him, pressing the side of her breast against his arm and sighing contentedly.

They ate and drank and aroused one another during most of the two-hour cruise, and by the time the boatman let them off opposite the apartment they were ready for one another, as Katrina had predicted. She had not exactly screamed when Tom had slipped a finger into her sex as the boat went through a dark place on the canal, but she had come close. She had prevented it only by taking a huge bite from a bread roll, which stifled her outcry as she came. Katrina had been unable to hold herself back, despite her announced intention, but Tom had to admit that the provocation had been extreme.

The stairs to the apartment seemed endless, much longer than Tom remembered from their first ascent, but then neither of them had been suffering from extreme sexual excitement. Katrina fumbled the key into the lock, pushed the door open and led Tom unerringly through the dark rooms to the bedroom at the front of the house.

There was no need for further foreplay. All of that had been taken care of on the boat. Katrina merely unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving her stockings and suspenders on. She turned down the bed while Tom was getting out of his underwear, and then they were locked together, Tom deep inside her and Katrina clinging tightly to him, her legs raised and her ankles crossed as she moaned and thrashed in her orgasm. Tom, lying on top of her, could feel the rings which pierced her breasts cool and hard against his chest. As he rubbed against them Katrina went wild, shuddering as the spasms washed through her and she strained to take more of him inside herself. When Tom came he could feel Katrina squeezing him, as if she were milking the last drop from him.

Afterwards they lay quietly except for little shiftings and soft kisses and satisfied sounds. It felt good to have Katrina in bed with him. There was no tension between them. Each enjoyed the other and there was no need for either of them to assert their dominance over the other. If he and Harriet ever got back together, she would have to lighten up a bit on the need to be in control.

They fell asleep in one another’s arms, tired after the lovemaking. Tom woke during the night and listened to Katrina’s quiet breathing and occasional snores as she slept. He didn’t know the time, but it must have been late – well into the early hours of the morning. Outside the apartment he could hear the buskers and street artists still performing. In the light coming through the tall windows, Katrina’s rings glinted as her breasts rose and fell with her regular breathing.

Two hours later, strong morning sunlight woke them. It was going to be another fine day. Tom got out of bed to open the windows.

‘Come away from the window, Tom. If the woman across the street sees you, she will be hammering on the door wanting her share of the goodies. Come back to bed and tell me all about your troubles with Harriet. We must think of something to make her change her mind.’ There was neither irony nor jealousy in Katrina’s tone. She was stating the facts as she saw them.

Tom’s first reaction was to change the subject. He felt uneasy talking about Harriet in any case, since he did not know what he was going to do. And he did not want to risk making Katrina angry. But Katrina’s businesslike tone made him change his mind. He got back into bed with her, and she snuggled against him like a cat. ‘Are you going to purr?’ Tom asked her.

‘No. We are going to solve the problem of your stiff-necked English mistress. I want you to be happy when you are in London, just as you are happy here with me. We should all be happy if we can. It was one of your English philosophers who said that mankind’s goal was the greatest possible happiness per square person.’

‘I’m not sure Bentham used exactly those words, but I agree with the sentiment. He would probably have told us that we had been having entirely too much happiness. You know how puritanical the English can be.’

‘They are not so bad as the Americans. Their movies are all about killing and violence, but they will never show people having sex. But you are changing the subject. Tell me everything that happened.’

Tom reached down to touch the ring in Katrina’s nipple, but she gently took his hand away.

‘You are trying to change the subject again. You can do that later. All day if you want to. But now you must talk.’

‘All right. You already know what happened when I found Harriet in the bed. The decision to have her there and then just made itself. I don’t think anything would have deterred me just then.’