When Ludvik dreamt, it was often of painted angels and demons, of starry skies and lofty peaks deep in the Carpathian mountains. He saw soaring spires and battlements, Gothic towers, Baroque palaces, domed cathedrals and impossible castles such as only his imagination could build. And, always in his dreams, he was a traveler; a restless seeker after truth and beauty. But wherever he travelled in his dreams, he always seemed to return to the city that he had always called his home; Prague.
Opening his pale blue eyes one Monday morning, his gaze fell on the wall of his bedroom. Dim light from the rapidly encroaching dawn had already begun to illuminate the wall upon which hung a fraction of his art collection. There again, his eyes traced the lineaments of beauty rendered in oils, chalk, tempera and pastels, in deep black ink, in red Conte, and polychrome acrylic.
He sighed as his gaze wandered to one particular painting which still stood on the floor where he had left it the night before. It was the portrait of a beautiful woman by an unknown painter. The previous day, over dinner and a fine bottle of Tokay, he had spent the best part of an hour looking at it. He had bought it earlier that day, for only a few euros from the local flea-market. The woman he had bought it from knew nothing about it. She had told him that she had found it in the attic of an elderly neighbor who had died and whose family had asked her to dispose of some of her possessions.
“How easily the threads of memory are broken,” he thought… “a final heartbeat, a drop of water, a tick of the clock and they are gone.”
His phone rang, causing him to roll over and pick it up from the bedside table. The identity of the caller was no surprise. It was his producer, Agnetzka.
“Hi beautiful.”
“Hold the compliments Ruzi. I hope you haven't forgotten we're on a tight shooting schedule today, I've got everybody crawling up my ass for studio time.”
“How could I possibly forget, my tasty little dumpling, with you to constantly remind me!?”
“OK, save the sarcasm, I'll see you here at 8 am sharp.”
“Ah, tempus edax rerum.”
“...and what the fuck does that mean?”
“Time devours all. It's from Ovid.”
“Right, well, I'm going to devour that worthless good-for-nothing idiot Kazimir if he screws the lighting up again today…!”
“Has anyone ever told you how hot you sound over the phone?”
“Oh, I do appreciate that… and by the way, fuck you!”
“Haha. OK, my apologies. Who am I working with today?”
“Um... wait...”
Agnetzka was silent but he could hear her rapidly typing on her keyboard so he decided to annoy her gently.
“Franziska? Agata? Alexandra? Oxana? ...not Morag? Please tell me it isn't Morag - that new little Irish redhead?”
“No, no, no and... no. Look, just shut the fuck up and get yourself in here while I work it out. I've been given all the wrong schedules again... fuck!”
“Anything you say, boss.”
The phone went dead as he rolled over, covering his otherwise naked body with the crisp white sheets that still retained their newly washed aroma. He stretched and smiled, imagining Agnetzka's otherwise beautiful face knotted by the twin frowns of frustration and responsibility. As he turned back around, his eye wandered again to his latest acquisition; the oil on canvas of the alluring and mysterious dark-haired woman. He had looked long and hard at the signature, even tracing it out on paper, but could make nothing of it. The date below it, however, was clear enough; 1942. He looked deeply into the woman's dark doe eyes.
“Speak to me. Who are you? What was your name? Who painted you so lovingly? We shouldn't have secrets from each other you and I.”
He turned to the window. A single white cumulus cloud was framed perfectly against the gloriously blue July sky. He hated curtains and he often stood naked by this window to look out over the city. It was a rear window and looked out upon the tightly packed roofs of the old neighborhood. It was a beautiful and serene vision; old Prague; splendid and eternal, like a glorious, timeless page of history. But it was also his history; his family had owned this very apartment on Karlova Street for seven generations.
After showering and dressing, he walked down the building's grand marble staircase. It was a simple pleasure and, considering he lived at the very top of the building, it was also good exercise. The street was relatively quiet and free of tourists so, in no time at all, he reached his stop at the edge of the Karlu bridge. Just beyond the stop, he saw a woman in a heavy brown coat standing against the barrier wall. She had her back to him as she stood motionless and looked out onto the river Vltava below. He thought it was a little strange that she should be wearing such a heavy coat; the week had been unusually warm even for July.
He took in her beautiful black hair and the way she held herself; with poise and, with what he first thought was a certain theatrical dignity; so rare to see these days. She was certainly elegant and tall with an aristocratic bearing that was anything but theatrical. Just then he saw the bus advancing. It stopped for him and he got on. As there were no seats available, he made his way to the rear then swiftly turned as the vehicle passed the spot where the woman stood. He caught a glimpse of her profile and thought that there might be something vaguely familiar about it. But it was her total stillness that was most noticeable and somewhat unsettling; as though she was meditating on some grave and weighty matter.
oo0oo
Half an hour later, he stood studying the attractive, immaculately made up and magisterial face of Agnetzka his producer.
“So who did you say am I working with?”
“I didn't, but I've got some new flesh for you today...”
“Oh?”
“Yeah... my niece Carla.
“Your niece?”
“Yeah.”
“...and you're OK with that?”
“Sure. She's a slut and besides, it's about time she started earning some money instead of leeching it out of me... I mean who the fuck is nineteen, unemployed and wears Louboutin shoes?!”
He looked at her doubtfully.
“Hmmm.”
“What's the matter? She's hot, she has a pussy and she wants to fuck.”
“How experienced is she?”
“She's fucked plenty of guys at some of these sleaze-pit clubs she frequently goes to.”
“OK, I'll treat her gently.”
“Don't bother. She's passed medical and I've got her doing DP with Christian and Alberto next week.”
“Alberto and Christian are nice guys. You are looking after her.”
“Tell that to my fucking sister who virtually dumped her on my doorstep two years ago.”
An hour later, at the close of several lengthy production problems, Ludvik finally stood on the set. It was a minimalist, Scandinavian-style bedroom with a few ultra-modern paintings on the wall. He glanced up above his head to see a smiling Kazimir Abramovitz looking down at him from the lighting rig.
“Hey Kazi. You better stay up there out of sight. Agnetzka wants your balls.”
“Don't I know it, Ruzi? She already owns the rest of me. Hey, is it true that you're going to fuck her niece?”
Ludvik shook his head. “There used to be so much professionalism in this industry... back in the eighties. Now I remember...”
“OK people, ten minutes.” It was the gruff voice of Fritz Langer, their Austrian director who was well into his seventies and whom Ludvik admired and secretly held in deep respect.
As Ludvik checked his hair and make-up in a mirror on the rear wall, he noticed a tall female figure stride confidently onto the set. He turned and was met by a pair of violet-blue eyes and a warm smile. She offered him a well-manicured hand.
“Hi, I'm Carla.”
“Ludvik Ruzicka, nice to meet you.” He kissed her cheek and breathed in her honeysuckle perfume.
“Yeah, I know you. My aunt told me all about you and I even watched one of your movies just last night.”
“Oh, really, which one?”
“Alpine Butt-Sluts IV.”
Ludvik laughed. “Hmmm, that old thing... definitely not one of my best. Now, Precinct 69, my buddy-cop series or Lust on the Nile; I got to be Julius Caesar in that...”
“I thought you were great and you haven't changed at all, you don't look a day older, honestly.”
“Thank you.”
She now stood back and twirled around slowly.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes.”
She was honey-blonde and athletic, several centimeters taller than him, with a fine profile. She wore a pair of ultra-short, rough-cut denim shorts and a black cropped tee-shirt. He ran his eyes over her boobs and down her flanks to her hips and then to her naked legs. Most of all, he liked how her hair cascaded down well past her shoulders. He smiled and began to feel a tingling deep in his balls.
“Carla, huh?”
“Yeah, cool isn't it?”
“What professional surname are you going to use?”
“Hm, I haven't really thought about it but I like fast Italian cars. So, Carla Maserati, Carla Ferra...”
“Already taken.”
“Oh.”
“You're Czech, aren't you? Come up with something original, something patriotic.”
- “Five minutes!”
“OK, what about Carla Svatoplukova. Or Carla Slutoplukova.”
He laughed, delighting in her sweet face, her musical voice and girlish smile. They then spent a few minutes discussing the use of the set and what camera angles the studio preferred.
- “Two Minutes!”
“Did your aunt give you the script?”
“Err... no. Well, yes... I've looked at it.”
“OK, I'm your best friend Julia's dad and we've found ourselves alone in my apartment.”
Just then Agnetzka arrived looking as stressed and overworked as ever.
“Carla, listen up, this is how it goes – chat, kiss, blowjob, pussy-lick, break, then fuck, blowjob and he blows on your lips and chin. And no holding back, or I'll get out a big, black strap-on and fuck you myself. Got it?!”
“Rrrr-ight!”
With that, Agnetzka was gone, shouting out last-minute instructions to a fearful Kazimir who looked down nervously from the rigging.
“Don't worry,” whispered Ludvik, “You'll be fine. Which is more than I can say for Kazi.”
Once the production crew was assembled and the cameras were ready, Ludvik looked Carla in the eyes and smiled as reassuringly as he could,
She nodded eagerly and stood with her head up and her shoulders back.
- “Action!”
Ludvik : “Carla, what are you doing here? Julia is away for the weekend. Didn't she tell you?”
Carla : “Oh, yeah, I knew, It's OK (looks up seductively). I really came here to talk with you.”
Ludvik : “Oh yeah, what did you want to talk about?”
Carla : (Looking at him intently) I wanted to talk about getting my pussy filled by Julia's hot dad.”
Ludvik : “How old are you again?
Carla : “You know how old I am; nineteen and more than ready to fuck.”
Ludvik : “You know I'm fifty-five, right?”
Carla : “Mmmm, perfect.”
With that, Ludvik hooked his arm around her naked midriff and gently pulled her close. Obligingly, she lowered her face to his lips and felt his other arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her in. She kissed him with surprising passion until he drew back slightly and opened his eyes.
“Shhh, slow down,” he whispered then continued to savour her bubblegum flavoured lip gloss.
After a moment, he felt her hands entwine his waist and her breathing slow as she began to relax. She kissed him with greater restraint, running her lips and tongue over his and moaning almost silently. From somewhere above they heard Agnetzka's harshly amplified voice.
“OK, Carlie darling, now slowly undo his belt... remember, you're a slut and you want to get revenge on your bestie friend by fucking her hot dad.”
Carla moaned softly as she proceeded to unfasten Ludvik's belt. She paused to unbutton his shirt too and Ludvik feared that this might bring her aunt's wrath down upon her so he took over and soon his jeans were nestled snugly around his ankles.
“On your knees now,” he whispered, anticipating exactly the same instruction from Agnetzka by only a few seconds.
Ludvik looked down to see her staring with growing uncertainty at the considerable bulge now barely contained by his deep purple briefs. He discreetly pushed one side down, just revealing the top of his shaft.”
-”Go!”
Agnetzka's bark was enough to pull Carla's mind back to the job at hand and she curled her fingers around the sides of Ludvik's underwear. With one swift tug, they fell down and she was confronted by his already nodding, semi-erect cock. Her hand gripped his base and she slowly fed the head into her mouth. Ludvik fought the urge to smile as the camera men moved around to film her at hip level.
-“That's it, pretend it's that German guy Ulrich that I caught you with the other day.”
Ludvik rolled his eyes and looked down to see Carla smirk. Luckily her aunt's revelation hadn't totally embarrassed her. Instead, she wrapped her tongue around Ludvik's cock and alternated between rubbing it on the inside of her cheeks, all over the top of her tongue and on the roof of her mouth. Ludvik settled down to enjoy the sensations as her hand squeezed his balls and fed his shaft deeper and deeper towards her throat. Taking his cock out from time to time, she licked his head and rubbed it across her teeth and lips. As she did so, she made sure to pump the base of his shaft in order to keep him hard. She need not have worried for Ludvik, it was arousing enough to simply watch her golden cascades bounce back and forth against her perfect shoulders.
“Not bad for a first-timer in front of the cameras.”
-“OK, newbie, up on the bed on your back. Lick her hot little teen slut-hole Ruzi.”
Ludvik immediately lifted Carla up and threw her gently onto the bed. Her beautiful hair landed equally on either side of her face, framing it perfectly. She arched her back as Ludvik rapidly pulled down her shorts and thong. Before him was the sight of her immaculately waxed pussy with just a narrow stripe of blonde on her mound. He smiled approvingly to himself. This was, after all, house style and clearly showed Agnetzka's professional hand.
He kicked off his jeans and knelt on the bed, making short work of Carla's cropped top and black push-up bra, he paused for an instant to look at her. She was absolutely gorgeous and he secretly prayed that she wouldn't ruin her body some day with piercings, tattoos or, heaven forbid, fake boobs. As it was, her pert breasts with thick rose-bud nipples were sheer perfection in his eyes.
He knelt down and pulled her hips closer. With scents of golden honeysuckle in his nostrils he lapped at her velvet smooth pussy; teasing and tickling it gently and patiently, working his tongue slowly and gradually between her lips. He didn't expect much of a reaction from her, but was pleasantly surprised when she started moaning and gyrating her hips and tentatively pressing her slit harder onto his mouth.
He let her get used to the sensation and he could sense her growing confidence. Now he spread her labia wider and lapped at her slit with long broad strokes, from just above her ass to her clit and back. She squealed as he pressed harder and harder with each stroke, lifting her legs as the camera men came close to zoom in. Her fingers grasped his close-cropped blonde hair and pressed his head closer. He responded by concentrating on her clit – licking it in broad snaking circles. She bucked and sighed and he felt her wetness on his chin. Her body undulated and she held her breath, sighing louder and arching her back. He knew the signs.
After several more delicious moments of this, Carla came with a resounding “Fuuu-ck!” She continued bucking and started to sob, causing Ludvik some concern, so he resumed licking her slit; tickling its sweet velvet walls and penetrating her as far as he could with his tongue. Carla threw her arms out to her sides, almost in an attitude of crucifixion. She breathed deeply, mouth open, still enjoying the enduring waves of her orgasm.
Her eyes were shut and just as well thought Ludvik. because at that moment the camera guys stood hovering above her on either side, filming her body from the exquisite icon that was her face, down past perfect pert breasts and the slender lines of her flanks, to the endearing strip of gold that pointed the way to her pink and now glistening pussy.
-And cut! OK, ten minutes.”
Her eyes popped open and she smiled. Ludvik stood up and reached for a water bottle. He offered it to her.
“Oh, thanks. Ice cold too. Is it hot in here or is it just me?”
“Oh, it's certainly you.”
“I'll take that as a compliment, Mr Ruzicka, sir.”
She took a couple of gulps of water.
“You can mouth-wash too if you like.”
“No, no, it's OK,” then she whispered, “I don't want to lose the delicious taste of your cock.”
He took the bottle from her and took a long swig. She took the opportunity to glance at his naked body. He was of only medium height but lean and muscular; a throwback to his early days in the mid-1980s when being buff and trim was de rigueur in the porn industry. Luckily the studio had a world-class hair and make-up department and provided all its staff with a free gym membership.
“Shit, I didn't bring a dressing gown,” Carla said, clicking her lips.
“Are you cold now?”
“No... but...”
“Forget it. You have to get used to being nude around the cast and crew. We're all professionals here.” He glanced up at Kazimir who was busy texting at that very moment. “Except for Kazimir, that is.”
She grinned at him and flopped back on the bed.
“Did I do OK?”
“Well, since your aunt is still upstairs in the editing room and not down here yelling at you and embarrassing you, yeah, you did well, really well.”
“Fuck, she's a bitch at times.”
Ludvik smiled and sat down next to her. Meanwhile, the crew were busy with their various tasks and hardly glanced at them.
“So what's next, Mr Ruzicka, or can I call you Ludvik?”
“Next we fuck and Mr Ruzicka will do just fine, for now.”
She rolled over to settle by his side. He gazed down her tanned back to her parted legs and raised feet; and he still marveled at her breathtakingly beautiful hair.
“So, can I get you hard again?”
“Be my guest.”
She purred and slid up onto his thigh. She gripped his cock by its base and looked up at him slyly.
“Mmm, I think I'm going to like this job.”
Ludvik gently placed his hand on the back of her head and she immediately tightened her grip on his cock. Long years of experience had left him totally uninhibited and supremely comfortable with his own nudity, and that of others. So as the crew went about their business; dealing with a multitude of technical and other production issues, Ludvik put himself into a semi-meditative state that enabled him to shut out all the petty hubbub occurring only a few feet away and concentrate on the exquisite sensations of Carla's lips, tongue and hand working on his cock.
Relaxed and far more confident than she was earlier, Carla pumped Ludvik's shaft hard and slow. He could tell that she was mindful of whether her efforts were having an effect on him. She needn't have worried. Her mouth took in more and more of his shaft with every bow of her head; perfectly matching the back-and-forth action of her hand.
Ludvik shut his eyes, then almost subconsciously, ran his palm down her smooth back to her ass. He massaged her firm cheeks; grabbing each one in turn and pulling them apart gently. She purred and spread her legs slightly then he heard a deep whisper,
“Finger my cunt.”
He worked his second finger firmly between her lips and was pleased to find that she was wetter than before. The second finger was joined by its neighbor and soon she was sucking his cock and thrusting her hips rhythmically back onto his hand. Opening his eyes, he glanced up to see Kazimir watching intently and he shot the younger man a sly smile.
The organized chaos on set was finally brought to an end by the commanding Teutonic tones of director Fritz Langer,
“OK, meine Lieblinge, action in thirty seconds!”
Half a minute later with his hand still reassuringly on Carla's head, Ludvik began to thrust up into her mouth. By this time, her saliva had soaked his balls and even found its way into the crack of his ass, but he certainly didn't mind; she was doing her best. He gently lifted himself up and saw her look at him with predatory eyes and a dripping chin. He pushed her onto the bed and she lay back on the pillows, gyrating her lips slightly. She glanced at his glistening, curving cock with evident pride; purring as she felt it slide effortlessly into her pussy seconds later.
“Fuck her pussy hard,” came Agnetzka's laconic instruction from the eyrie upstairs.
Ludvik looked Carla straight in the eye with all seriousness and planted his arms above her shoulders. This gave him the leverage to bring his hips down firmly onto her and he thrust hard several times to gauge if she was able to take it. She gasped and smiled up at him so he continued thrusting and maintained eye contact with her. Unintimidated, she returned his gaze and opened her mouth with his every thrust; finally, she breathed.
“Kiss me.”
In reply, he blinked and shook his head slightly. At that point, she became aware that the cameras were hovering over them and she did her best to transfer some of the ample pleasure from her pussy onto her face. Ludvik's eyes smiled and he got up onto his knees; bringing her legs up onto his shoulders. He continued fucking her with long slow strokes and dipped his hand into some of the copious juice from her pussy. He touched her clit whereupon she spread it out for him. Gentle, practiced fingers delighted her for several minutes. After that, as he got harder and harder, he felt his cock adjust perfectly to the wet, hot velvet depths of her pussy.
Carla bucked and thrust against his every stroke and started to moan and sigh where before she had mostly stayed silent. Soon she came in a violent torrent of moans and half-uttered profanities which made Ludvik smile guardedly, lest he ruin the moment for her.
“Good, good,” he whispered instead, “That's it... yesss...”
“-Keep fucking,” Agnetzka's disembodied command sounded, “Blow on her when you're ready, Ruzi.”
Now Carla pushed her elbows back and sat up. She thrust harder and harder against him, throwing her head back as he met her with slow hard strokes that sent his cock right to her very core. She moaned and cried out again and again, only regaining some semblance of composure to whisper,
“Fucking cum on my face, cum on my slutty little teen face, Ruzi!”
Ludvik was surprised and redoubled his efforts until he pressed his fingers and palms firmly against the flesh of her hips. This was guaranteed to make him come and, sure enough, he pulled his cock out of her a minute later and held her head up against it. The cameras moved in for a close up and Carla rose to the occasion by opening her smiling mouth just as Ludvik fired his first rope of come at her lips. She lapped it up and it was followed by three more long, wet squirts that splashed onto her tongue and chin. She had swallowed the first but let the rest drip down her chin onto her boobs.
She then grabbed his cock and pumped it, returning it to her mouth to lick off the remains of his seed.
“Cut! And that's a wrap.”
She flopped back onto the bed and burst into laughter.
“Oh fuck! That was good!”
Having always found laughter infectious, Ludvik laughed too then glanced at Fritz to get his characteristic 'OK' nod or rarely, a 'thumbs down,' as the case may be. But before he could focus on the old German's pleasantly lined face, he noticed another; just behind where the camera guys now stood. After taking their final long shots, the pair had retreated into the background and now, just past them there stood a tall, dark-haired woman; silent and still. She made eye contact with him and he shuddered momentarily as he took in the pallor of her skin and her deep, dark eyes; emotionless and unfathomable. He caught only one other, fleeting, impression of her and that was that she wore a heavy brown coat with a broad lustrous fur collar. That was before he felt Carla's arms entwine his throat and kiss him with aromatic, freshly sanitized lips. He glanced back immediately but the woman was gone.
“Fuck, Ruzi, I think I'm well on the way to you making a total cum-slut out of me.”
“- Ruzi.”
He looked at her coldly.
“Are you OK? Maybe I shouldn't have called you Ruzi, I'm sorry.”
“Hmmm, no, no that's OK. just be professional, like I keep telling everyone...”
He stood up and slipped on a black silk dressing gown that one of the production assistants now handed him. He scanned the room rapidly then headed to the rear wall of the studio and up the stairs to the production room where he was met by one of Agnetzka's rare smiles.
“Nicely done, Ruzi! We'll need to shoot some different positions, of course, to show the audience her best assets from all round, but that can wait till tomorrow – well done, you tamed her and trained her!”
“...Er… thanks. It was a pleasure. Listen, have you hired any new staff lately?”
“New staff! Are you kidding? I can hardly pay the bills much less you guys. Why?”
“A few minutes ago, I noticed a woman on set that I hadn't seen here before. You didn't get any visitors today, business-related perhaps who might still be hanging around?”
“No, and certainly not while we were shooting, and besides, security would have stopped her at the door.”
“I guess so...”
“OK, see you bright and early tomorrow. Did you enjoy fucking Carla?”
“What? Oh, yes, she was great, a natural.”
“Good. I might have to send her home with you for some more rehearsals.”
“Yeah, right.”
He kissed her on the cheek.
oo0oo
Early evening found Ludvik sitting in front of his piano. It was a fine old Austrian instrument from around 1900 by the famous and highly prestigious firm of Schweighofer. If he was asked what his most prized possession was apart from his art collection, it would certainly be this instrument. It had a rich, dark and powerful sound but his taste in classical music often veered towards the meditative, the quiet and the contemplative. So, this evening found him playing a selection of Chopin's nocturnes while he enjoyed the increasingly delicious aroma of the chicken tikka masala that was now emanating from the kitchen.
Having just completed the famous Opus 48 No2 nocturne, he played the opening bars of Opus 9 No 3 when his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize.
“Ludvik Ruzicka, hello.”
“Hi, it's Carla…. what are you doing?”
“Hi Carla, I'm cooking dinner. What's wrong, you sound a bit down.”
“Oh, am I that transparent?”
“I'm an old hand at reading people's emotions.”
“Oh, that's nice... look... can I come and see you? The truth is, I'm a little nervous about next Wednesday. I tried telling my gorgon of an aunt but we ended up having a fight...”
She sighed several times.
“Oh, I see, don't worry, she can't turn everyone into stone; we provide her with an income.”
“I certainly turned a part of you into stone, huh!”
“I have one word for you young lady, professionalism.”
“Ah yes, that!”
“OK, have you had dinner?”
“No! What are we having?”
“Indian food. Now, listen, I'm at 178 Karlova Street, Old Town, top floor.”
“Yes, I know.”
An instant later, the buzzer of the downstairs security door rang and he pressed the button to unlock it. Shaking his head, he continued,
“Don't tell anybody where I live. Women used to stalk me back in the eighties, you know.”
Her musical laughter sounded over the door speaker and moments later, he opened the door to see her lithe, black-clad form leaning against the door frame. She wore knee-high leather boots and tight black jeans, a big, black, metal band tee-shirt with one shoulder exposed and her usual push-up bra.
“I would totally stalk you too, Mr Ruzi.”
“Well, you're off to a good start. Did your aunt give you my number and my address?”
“Actually, no, it was Kazimir, the lighting guy. All I had to do was sway my ass past him and puff out my chest and he obliged.”
“OK, definitely no birthday card for him this year.”
He grabbed her good-naturedly by the naked shoulder, looked up and down the corridor dramatically and pulled her in. She giggled as she half stumbled then she took in the sight of the room in one glance and stood open-mouthed.
“Oh, my God! Are you rich?”
“So, you like the place?
“Like? This is a pallazzo from the days of the Habsburgs.”
“Not really, I've inherited some old, very old, furniture and I've collected a few trinkets and pictures over the years. That's all.”
“But the porcelain, the statues! You must have a fortune here.”
“No, you're just looking at the 'oldness' of it all. Are you hungry?”
“Mmmm, yes!”
She followed him into the kitchen where she proceeded to taste the curry. He instructed her on making steamed rice while he pan-fried some roti.
“If I'd known you were dropping by, I would have got out the crystal and polished the silver.”
She didn't answer. Instead, she slurped another spoonful of the aromatic juice from the bubbling pot. He stood back and admired her beautiful proportions; the curve of her hips and the perfect way her thighs and calves complemented each other. As he often reflected; looking at a work of art and looking at a beautiful woman were one and the same discipline. But it was her hair which held his attention longest; a waterfall of pure spun gold agitated by a summer breeze.
Offhandedly he said, “Beauty reveals everything because it expresses nothing.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, just a line by Oscar Wilde that I've been mulling over in my head. You know, I'll have to introduce you to Sybil once she gets back from her shoot on Mykonos. I'm sure you two will get along a...”
She dropped the spoon into the pot and turned around. There were tears in her eyes and she rushed up and hugged him tightly. Sobbing loudly, she kissed his neck and he smelt the tangy aroma of curry on her lips. He held her and let her cry for a few cathartic minutes.
“Oh damn, what a fucking cry-baby I am... fuck, what's wrong with me!”
“It's OK, shhh, tell me later.”
She kissed him several more times on the neck and sighed deeply. Then she drew back and looked into his eyes smiling.
“Let's get dinner served, my dear Mr Ruzi.”
They spent a pleasant hour eating curry and sharing a bottle of fine Australian merlot from Ludvik's sizable wine collection. Over coffee, she suddenly changed the subject from Bohemian Baroque composers to matters in the near future.
“Truth is, Mr Ruzicka... I know my aunt thinks I'm trash but I've never been fucked in the ass and I've never had two guys at once and knowing that it's all going to be filmed with my aunt breathing down my neck! I did really well with you because you're such a gentleman and you put me at ease.”
“Not to worry, the guys you'll be working with are seasoned professionals. I've known Christian and Alberto for years. They're nice guys. You'll be fine.”
“Yeah, but I don't know what it'll be like – two cocks fucking me at once… I just don't know.”
“From a purely production point of view, your aunt wants to market the scene along the lines of, 'first time nubile teen Carla gets double-penetrated,' you get me?”
“Yeah, I understand. That's why they call porn an industry, like any other. You and I are just commodities to be traded at the end of the day.”
Ludvik smiled and nodded. “Smart girl.”
“Why did you get into porn, you're such an intelligent, sophisticated and cultured man?”
“Oh that's easy, I love to fuck.”
She put her coffee cup down and ran her long supple fingers through his hair.
“And that brings me to why I came over here, Mr Ruzicka, sir,” she whispered. “I think my nubile teen ass is in sore need of some expert training.”
He looked her in the eye and smiled.
“OK. But don't breathe a word about it to Aunt Medusa.”
oo0oo
An hour later, Ludvik stood naked by his back window. He had dimmed the lights and lit several thick, while pillar candles. Outside, the clear July sky had clouded somewhat and for a few tranquil moments as he waited, he watched the dark clouds obscure the stars Arcturus and Procyon.
“Fare thee well, my friends, and sweet tidings until your glad return,” he whispered.
“OK, here I am, all ready and willin' to give my butt a drillin'.”
His reverie broken, Ludvik turned to see her standing naked with one hand on the door frame. By candlelight, she was even more bewitchingly beautiful and he found himself involuntarily holding his breath.
“How did you go?”
“Yeah, I read all the instructions. The water felt nice once I got used to it. I'm fresher than I've ever been... Oooh, the room looks beautiful. I feel like I'm in some heathen temple about to be sacrificed.”
“Come over here.”
She walked up to him slowly and sensually. He indicated the arm of the sofa.
“Bend over.”
He passed his hand between her cheeks and down the cleft of her ass as she parted her legs.
“What are you going to do…?”
“Shhhh, no talking, just listen, feel and learn. Now we are to have no kissing, no blowjobs, no pussy licking. You don't need any of that. We're going to focus only on stimulating your sweet little ass, Carla, OK?”
“Mmmm-hm!”
He dabbed a drop of lube onto his index and middle fingers and warmed it with some light rubbing.
Then he started circling her hole, gently and softly at first then gradually increased his pressure.
“Just relax and feel. Let your muscles go loose and concentrate on the sensation of my fingers.”
“Yesss,” she answered after a while, in an almost trance-like voice.
Round and round his fingers went; massaging her hole as though he were polishing a delicate and precious piece of Meissen porcelain. Gradually, she relaxed and loosened her muscles and soon she arched her back as his fingers made their way deeper into her flesh. Then he gradually pushed one finger into her and found her ring. He was pleased to see that she responded well to this, so he continued to rub her ring, around and around, with slowly building pressure, until she started to sigh and moan softly.
“Nice?”
“Mmmm, yezzz,” she purred, “I'm starting to see what all the fuss is about...”
He continued doing this, slowly and sensually, for several moments until she started to move her hips back and forth against his hand.
“Good, that's it,” he whispered.
“Mmmm, fuck, that feels nice.”
Now he stretched her hole gently, still applying pressure and a generous amount of lube to her ring. After a while, she abruptly swung her face around and smiled at him; the candle light catching her entrancing eyes.
“Make a cock-hungry teen anal whore out of me, Mr Ruzi!”
“Didn't I say, no talking!?”
“Yes, sorry, sir.”
Now Ludvik slipped a third finger into her hole and she braced herself, adapting quickly to the change. She gradually thrust harder and harder against his hand, sighing and moaning softly as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Ludvik was distracted by the way the candlelight now made her fine golden hair glisten, but he did notice that her pussy was becoming quite wet.
“OK, now I'm going to stretch you, then I'll fuck you then gape you. So just relax and enjoy it.”
“Uh-huh.”
She spread her knees further and arched her back obligingly as he took his rapidly hardening shaft in his hand and began to rub it around her entrance. She reached back with one hand and spread her cheeks as he eased his cock slowly into her.
"Oh, fuck yesss!"
He smiled as his hands gripped her hips and he entered her. She pushed back tentatively, feeling her anal muscles embrace the thickness of his cock. As soon as he felt her relax her muscles, he thrust into her; slowly and softly at first then faster and harder. He recalled having fucked one particularly adept American actress' ass once, many years ago, when, as a relatively new actor, he was the student and in need of training.
Carla seemed to be adapting well to the novel experience of having a cock invading her ass; she was soon bucking and moaning, throwing her head from side to side and shaking her hair. Ludvik focused on her ass and enjoyed the smooth, tight velvet walls of this virginal hole. But he put the thought out of his head and tried to imagine her being double penetrated by Alberto and Christian. He decided to ask Agnetzka if he could join the scene and possibly face-fuck her while the other two worked on her pussy and her ass. She might be happy to have him join in. With these thoughts in his head, he fucked her harder and harder; gauging her reactions from time to time and finding that she was doing just fine. He pressed in deep as she arched her back, then he said,
“OK, you gape on the count of three. Just let your hole open and I'll stretch it. Let's show the public some pink. Let's make them drool over this hot little teen fuck-hole of yours.”
She giggled and he thrust hard into her; once, twice…
“Now! And try to hold it open as long as you can.”
He pulled out and took her cheeks in each hand. She responded by flaring her ring as wide as she could. The sight of her triangular hole gaping open and her holding it open made him proud.
“Excellent! The camera's going to love you. That was perfect!”
“Thanks”, she giggled, “Now keep fucking me.”
“OK, on your back.”
She flipped over and he paused momentarily, once again distracted by her face framed by its halo of gold. He knelt between her legs and she grasped the head of his cock; guiding it without hesitation back into her ass. Her tunnel was still lubed and wet and as she raised her legs, he slid effortlessly back, deep inside her. Now she wrapped her legs around his hips and threw her arms back behind her head.
“Fuck me, fuck me hard, teach my hungry little teen ass a lesson, sir!”
Ludvik planted his arms at the top of her shoulders; pinning her down firmly. He looked deep into her eyes and she responded by maintaining eye contact with him. Porn was still, for him, one of the dramatic arts. He saw no reluctance in her, no pretense, just desire and resignation; a total submission to pleasure and to the task at hand. The girl had great potential.
He thrust long and hard; only increasing his power and energy as long, delicious moments passed. His cock grew harder and harder and his loose balls slapped against her firm young flesh, flesh made wet with juice dripping down like nectar from her luscious pussy. He told her to play with her clit after a while which she gladly stroked, as he concentrated on filling every centimeter of her ass.
With her free hand, she gripped his shoulder in what he took to be a gesture of support and camaraderie. As far as sexual nuances go, this touching token sent him over the edge and he felt his cock reach the apogee of its hardness. She gasped and sighed as she also raced closer and closer to coming. Ludvik shut his eyes as he fired spurt after spurt of come deep into the cozy velvet recesses of her ass. He had a momentary and uncharacteristic flash of ego as he realized he was the first man ever to do so, but the thought was quickly banished as Carla screamed and bucked furiously, arching her back again and again as she came.
He watched her perfect breasts heave as she breathed hard, beads of perspiration collecting on her brow and a broad grin on her lips. Breathlessly she said,
“Oh fuck, that was good.” Then she pulled his neck down to kiss him. He let her, sliding next to her with his hard cock still in her ass. She raised her leg and rested it on his hip as she held him close. They kissed with tongues often mingling and sparring as the tingling waves of pleasure lingered in their bodies like some wonderful exotic intoxicant.
Finally, he pulled out and lay back next to her as she continued to hold him. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours; hours of sweet contentment, until he heard her dreamy voice say,
“Oh, Ruzi, I don't want this night to end, ever.”
He was about to reply when he heard a distant peel of thunder. It had the effect of making Carla purr and he listened to her breathing as it gradually settled into the regular rhythm of deep, restful sleep.
“Sleep, sweet Carla. You've earned it.”
Thunder soon sounded again and lightning flashed outside but the storm was not accompanied by any wind or significant rain and it did not seem to disturb Carla in the least. Ludvik propped himself up on his elbow and looked upon her beautiful, blissfully peaceful face. The room's total absence of curtains meant that every lightning flash from the rapidly growing storm illuminated her features; momentarily adding a cold white veil to the warm glow of the candlelight against her skin.
He loved this type of storm in summer; it always brought music into his thoughts; the opening, allegro con brio, of Beethoven's 5th Symphony or Vivaldi's Summer concerto with its wonderful concluding tempesta. He bent his head to smell Carla's hair. It had that sweet, wholesome aroma of freshly baked bread that he loved so much. He then got up and stood by the window, as he often did, imagining himself as Zephyrus or Apollo or a satyr in the train of Dionysus.
He turned back momentarily just as a bright bolt of lightning filled the room. His eye happened to fall upon his latest acquisition; the oil painting of the mysterious dark-haired beauty. He saw the light catch its dark eyes then he turned back to look again up at the steel-grey, storm-vexed sky. He then heard the tiniest of noises behind him.
He turned to look again at Carla and froze in terror, bewilderment and total disbelief. Not five meters away by the wall, stood the pallid white figure of the woman from the Karlova bridge, the same woman he had later seen in the studio. He now realized that it was the woman whose portrait stood on the chair by the opposite wall. His voice, if he could have mustered enough breath to use it, lay dead on his lips. His eyes, wide with fear, could not tear themselves away from the woman's glacial skin and burning dark eyes. He stood transfixed as he watched her now slowly move forward.
But her movements were strange and slow; as though he was watching a film at half speed. Her legs didn't seem to move but closer she still came, until she hovered over where Carla lay slumbering blissfully. He now noticed that she was dressed totally different from the previous times he had seen her, she wore a loose, shimmering diaphanous, garment that looked like it was spun from the finest silk. Her naked body was barely veiled by it and as she bent to look down at Carla, Ludvik noticed her dark-capped breasts hanging beautifully like choice summer fruit. She straightened and looked at him in the eyes and now there was a hint of a smile in those ethereal orbs.
Ludvik tried again to speak and failed, then he put all his meagre strength into moving his legs but again, the effort was useless. The woman now approached him, moving in the same strange way; she was like an animation cycling through the frames of an old movie projector. The fleeting thought entered his head that she was some kind of elaborate illusion, devised by a master trickster to fool him but he could find no earthy motive for such a macabre hoax.
She continued to approach, slowly raising her hand and now smiling more obviously. As she got closer he became aware that he could see straight through her although her image was clearly three-dimensional. The word hologram stumbled its way into his mind and as though she could read his thoughts, she swayed her head to the side and shook it slightly. Next, he became conscious of her hand on his cheek; it was cool and firm and he could feel the flesh of her palm pressing into his cheek. She moved even closer and shut her eyes then he felt the strangest sensation he had ever experienced in his life, as her lips met his. They were warm and made his own tingle as she kissed him. He opened his eyes after what seemed an impossibly long moment to find her inexplicably standing about a meter away. She continued to smile as she turned away and again his eyes were drawn to her beautiful nude body; barely veiled by the gossamer fine garment she wore.
She moved back to the wall and bent down to pick up the painting that was surely her portrait. She looked back at him, this time in all seriousness and turned the painting to the side. She tapped the back of it once with her index finger and set it gently back down on the chair. Ludvik watched her, barely comprehending what he was seeing, until he saw her smile return. Then her beautiful form, insubstantial though it already was, began to fade and dissipate, blending rapidly into the many works of art that adorned the rear wall. Only her eyes lingered momentarily; staring at him still, until they too became indistinguishable from the dark wall.
Ludvik's lungs suddenly remembered to breathe and he abruptly found himself once again able to use his legs. He stumbled forward and his first thought was to check on Carla. Carla slept on and her face was the epitome of sublime serenity.
Ludvik then turned and, as he so often did when troubled or wrestling with self-doubt, he sat at the piano and without thinking he played his own transcription of Marin Marais' The Dreaming Girl. Outside, the benign storm thundered on and continued to throw it's brilliant cold light across the room while the candles cast their warm glow protectively on Carla's angelic face. He sighed as his fingers, on the fine old keyboard, produced the closing notes of The Dreaming Girl.
Minutes later, he fetched a thick towel, a pair of needle-nosed pliers and a craft knife. Lying the painting face down on the towel at the edge of the piano, he carefully removed the thick marbled paper dust seal. He expected to find a thin wooden board behind it. What he found instead, as he peeled the paper back, was a large brown envelope. With trembling hands and bated breath, he carefully unsealed the envelope It contained a letter and a map. He brought one of the larger candles onto the towel and read the letter. It was written in a fine, calligraphic script in purplish blue ink.
Moments ago, dear friend; for friend I dearly hope you are, I put the finishing touches on this painting; my one and only self-portrait. Know, dear friend, that it was painted not out of vanity nor out of any illusions of self-importance, but out of a need born of desperation.
Daily, the enemy gets closer and closer to those of us who have chosen to defy them. They murder our people and rape our land, they hunt us down relentlessly, they destroy our towns and our very means of survival. They oppress and butcher those of our compatriots whose religion they find abhorrent and they plunder our national treasures.
I am committed to the resistance and to the ultimate defeat of our enemy and, as such, I will fight until my last bullet and my last breath along with those remaining few whom it is my honour to call friends, allies and compatriots. So, my friend, if friend indeed you are, I entrust you with a map to a secure place known only to me and to those of my resistance cell who remain. There we have hidden such treasures of our national heritage as we could save from the rapacious claws of the invader.
If you are a patriot or if you value honour, justice and freedom, take these things into your safe keeping until such time as this war is over and, with the blessing of Fate, we have prevailed.
- Violetta Konvalinkova. Prague. July 10th 1942.
Below this, there were the fourteen lines of a sonnet:
O first light of dawn ascending
Over the city of my dreams;
Light of hope and joy unending
With your glowing and tender beams,
Banish the darkness, quell the rage
In this lost empire of my heart,
The evil madness of the age,
The enemy of love and art.
And gather those souls forsaken;
Trapped by the tempest's dark descent,
Hunted far and cruelly taken
Then to their doom so swiftly sent!
O light of freedom, light of peace,
Herald the day of our release!
He read this last of all, after taking a long look at the simple, well-drawn map and realizing that it gave directions to a building not three city blocks away.
Then he read the sonnet again and tears welled up in his eyes. He reasoned that she had not survived the war and that her spirit, that now haunted his waking hours, sought his help, sought closure and restitution.
Violetta Konvalnikova was her name. By the light of the candle, he looked hard again at the signature on the front of the painting and finally made out the initial 'V' and the 'K' and the remaining letters of her surname. Emotion again gripped him and he shed tears for many long, quiet moments, alone by the window with only the rapidly passing storm as a mirror to his thoughts. He wiped his tears away and looked again at the portrait's deep dark eyes. He kissed the lower side of the frame and set the painting back onto the chair. He placed the map and the letter on his desk and poured himself a cognac.
oo0oo
Coming next ... The exciting conclusion to The City of My Dreams.
