Honey trap?
We arrived at the Hotel Excelsior. In the marina, a well-groomed attendant in a clean white shirt and white shorts tied the boat up, helped us out, and escorted us to some lounging chairs, where we were met by someone I can only describe as a butler. Villanelle ordered an Aperol spritz for both of us, and when the butler was on his way back up to the hotel bar to get our order, she fanned her hand and exclaimed, "Let's cool off before we die."
She pulled off her cotton dress. "Come to the water with me," she beckoned as she walked towards the sea. I couldn't help but gawk at her heart-shaped hips swaying elegantly, her butt and thighs rippling with each cat-like step she took towards the water.
We wade for a few minutes out in the shallow water.
"So why don't you just live here, Villanelle?"
Villanelle shrugged. "Venice can be a bit much if you linger here. You can become quite aimless. I find that to be a dangerous lifestyle for me. "Vienna is beautiful too."
"And has plenty of targets for the KGB," I added.
"Of course," she replied.
I smiled.
"Well, I'd be tempted to stay here forever. Venice is beautiful."
"You're welcome to come whenever you want," she said.
"Anyways, New York seems to be a nice city too."
"Yeah."
"I would love to see it," Villanelle said, adding, "
"Have you ever been to the States?"
She shook her head.
"What would you like to see there?"
"First and foremost, New York City."
A dreamy smile crossed her face, and her eyes grew wistful. She sank chin-deep into the water, and her hair floated in the gentle waves.
"I want to see the Statue of Liberty and go to the top of the Empire State Building. ""And I would very much love to go in the fall and winter to see the Macy's parade and the Christmas tree at Rockefeller."
She had laid out all of the typical New York tourist traps so specifically and so intently, as if she had thought through them many times. She continued, "But of course, even more than that, I want to see the desert. ""The Grand Canyon, Utah, and Taos, above all."
I snorted in laughter. "Taos? Taos, New Mexico?"
"Is that so strange?"
I shrugged. "Just very random."
"I saw photos of it in a book once. Oh, it was wonderful. It looked like nothing I've ever seen. like it was a different planet. a beautiful planet. Even through the photos, I could tell there was a mystical energy there. I told myself I would see it if I ever had a chance to go to America. "Maybe you can be my tour guide," Villanelle replied. "Maybe we can go to Taos together."
"If our countries ever stop fighting, it would be my pleasure."
"Don't you forget to take me to a ball game too."
After wading around a bit, I noticed the Aperol spritz sweating on the table near our beach chairs, so I went out to sip on mine before the ice melted. Ok, she elected to stay in the water a bit longer. The butler arrived as soon as I finished my spritz and asked if I would like another. I said yes, and another was in my hand by the time she arrived at her beach chair. I handed her a spritz.
By the time the sun reached noon, beach chairs all around us were quickly filled with hotel guests, so Villanelle laid out a beach towel in the sand down at the shoreline, where the water lapped against her feet. I joined her. I laid a beach towel next to her and enjoyed the coolness of the water against my toes. She took her top off to show her breasts. I did the same.
"Well, well, look at you. turning into quite a natural European."
"What can I say?" "You're a terrible influence."
She giggled and licked her lips. Her eyes went down to my breasts. She shuffled her body closer to mine. She dug her feet into the wet sand. The waves came up across them, covering them fully with more sand.
She gave me a kiss on the lips, then on my neck, and then drew her face downward towards my breasts. I pulled back and glanced back worriedly at the people in their beach chairs.
"Not here!" I whispered.
"They won't mind."
"I mind"
She brought a hand secretly to my stomach and raked her fingers softly against my skin. I sighed.
"You are such a terrible influence. Why?" I complained.
"Because you are so irresistible right now," she answered. Then she went for my nipple again. I only closed my eyes this time, pretending that if I kept them closed, I'd be invisible and no one could see her licking and sucking my nipples. "Oh God!" I gasped at the electric feel of her cool tongue. I shivered and moaned as she used her mouth to play with each of my nipples in turn. She did it slowly, eyeing me, and was delighted in my expressing so much discomfort in trying to maintain composure so as not to draw attention to us.
"OK, enough," I whimpered, pulling back from Villanelle. Her lips were glistening with saliva. She wiped it off with her forearm and laid down on her beach towel.
"Tonight," I assured her. Villanelle smiled and sighed contentedly.
I looked around us. People are still relaxing in their beach chairs. Most seemed to have dozed off. Perhaps no one had noticed. I stifled an incredulous laugh and relaxed. I tried dozing off, concentrating on the biting warmth of the sun, the cawing sea gulls, and the lapping waves. I tried not to think about how good Villanelle made me feel. I still felt her tongue on my breasts. My sex ached badly for her.
As the sun dipped back towards the horizon, heavy afternoon clouds floated in, refracting the sunrays and causing everything to drip with golden light. The air felt rich and heady, a feeling I attributed to the spritz, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was somehow living in a dream. In a way, I was deliberately ignoring the real reason for her interest in me and my purpose to bait her into a trap.
We went back to the villa at sunset, cruising the lagoon as slowly as a sailboat. Villanelle let me drive the boat, and, in a vote of confidence, she sat on the bow, took pictures with her Nikon, and waved at others passing in their boats.
"Just drive between the red and green buoys and don't crash into anyone."
As we got close to the Grand Canal, she took over and skillfully guided us to her private marina.
For our evening out, she wore a sky-blue dress with a pleated skirt. subdued, elegant, and accentuated her natural beauty by hemmed at her most delectable features. I wore the only dress I had brought with me to Vienna, a red cocktail dress that I had bought for all the State Department receptions.
We walked lazily through Venice to get to her favourite dining establishment, crossing the Ponte dell'Accademia. The sky had turned a royal velvet purple, with some of the early stars starting to show. The canals glittered orange with the lights of the city. People sat out on the terrazas enjoying cocktails and wine, their chatter echoing off the walls of the buildings that towered over the narrow streets. We weaved through couples walking hand in hand; we were so enchanted that they seemed to be doing a synchronised waltz through the city streets.
Villanelle led me left, then right, then left again, turning down nearly every alley we came across until I was thoroughly clueless as to where we were. We came out abruptly onto a small plaza that looked across a wide waterway towards Giudecca. The buildings on the island were silhouetted against the purple sky. The numerous windows dotted the buildings like Christmas lights.
There were countless restaurants to choose from, but Villanelle picked the shabbiest. A nook squeezed into a gap between two buildings like a makeshift afterthought.
A few tables spilled out onto the street, and a crowd packed into them like sardines. People stood shoulder to shoulder with their wine or frizzante held closely to their bodies, but didn't seem to mind the bustling claustrophobia of the place. This was different from the restaurants around it, which had white-clothed tables with plenty of space between them.
An attentive bartender spotted Villanelle, gave her a happy smile, and pointed us towards the back of the small room. As we squeezed through the crowd, the room turned into a secret cave, which opened out onto a terraza against a narrow canal. It was much less crowded here, and there was a stage and a dance floor. Musical instruments stood ready, gleaming beneath dim white spotlights. A baby grand piano topped with candles that dripped wax onto the shiny black top, a cello, an electric guitar, and a saxophone in their stands
"Dinner and a show?"
Villanelle nodded. "And maybe some dancing too, if you are up for it."
The waiter lit our candle and stood patiently waiting for our order.
She rattled off Italian; the waiter nodded, memorised the order, and left. The wine came quickly.
I sipped it and remarked, "This could be the cheapest wine in the world, and I would never know."
"Do you like the taste?" she asked.
"Yes, I love it."
"Then it might as well be the most expensive wine in the world."
"What is it?"
"The house wine."
I took another sip and could taste all of Venice in it. I could really be convinced that it was the best wine in the world.
Accompanying the wine was our aperitivo. an assortment of cured Italian meats and cheeses, and a small dish of polenta each.
As we finished, musicians came out and played lively jazz music. The lights were lowered. Cigarette smoke filled the air and glowed like fog in the moonlight as it swirled above our heads in the table lamp light. Several people got up to dance.
"Let's dance," Villanelle said. So, we went to the dance floor and danced.
The tables were cleared from the dining room, and the crowd of dancers filled in from the standing crowd. I thought it would be strange to hear live jazz in a Venetian osteria, but it fit perfectly.
After a few songs, I became exhausted and so went to the bar to cool off with an iced cocktail. Villanelle joined me, of course. I surprised her by ordering each of us a shot of vodka.
"Well, well, well, it looks like we are about to have a long night," she exclaimed as I handed her the shot.
"How do you give a toast in Russian?" I asked.
"There are many ways. Perhaps we can say, "za lyubov."
"Za lyubov," I said again, and we sipped our vodka.
"What's it mean?"
"To love."
The vodka was the tipping point. I felt so immensely free and daring with my actions. I wanted to dance with Villanelle. So, I dragged her back out onto the dance floor. I held her closely. We kissed. Her body and her clothes were moist from sweating. Her bangs clung wet to her forehead in curvy tendrils, as they do when humid. Her eyes watched mine with excitement, showing a gleeful surprise at my sudden initiative as I leaned forward and closed the gap between us .
The band played Bossa Nova. I felt the thrumming double bass on my skin and the guitar in my core. My heart pounded excitedly, and my head swam. The heat emitted by every dancer made the night feel like it was in the tropics. We might as well be on a moonlit beach in Rio.
I didn't know how to dance Bossa Nova or samba, but neither did Villanelle. It didn't matter. The feeling of the rhythm and Villanelle's body against mine was all I needed. In any case, no one cared.
Villanelle spun me in a pirouette, leaned me down, and kissed me into the lean. We fell to the ground. A nearby couple picked us up off the ground, and we laughed and went back to the bar for another pair of shots.
We toasted again, this time in Czech (Na zdrav! ), and drank, and from then on, the night swam in my head. Time became fuzzy. The next thing I knew, we were out in the streets, stumbling and bouncing off walls, trying not to fall into the canal as we held onto each other. Our laughter echoed through the mostly empty alleys.
Villanelle seemed so drunk that I was sure she was lost. In fact, I wasn't sure where we were or if we had a plan. But, by a miracle, it seemed, we arrived at her home. We ended up in her living room. I plopped down on the couch in front of the cold fireplace. The Girl from Ipanema was playing while She put an unlit cigarette in her mouth, humming softly along as it played. Her voice was pleasant, like a lullaby. The room was illuminated by the soft moonlight that shone through the windows, adding a surreal vibe to the atmosphere
As she moved, a strap from her dress fell off her shoulders. She attempted to replace it but failed in her drunken state, so she left it to the fate of cinching her dress down to the crest of her breasts. Her hair fell across her face.
She beckoned me to join her. I stood. The blood rushed out of my head, and my knees went weak, so I plopped back down on the sofa. She came over and tried hoisting me up, but I was such a deadweight that I brought her down atop me instead. We both giggled childishly, and this turned into soft kissing.
Villanelle caressed my face. I leaned my cheek into her warm hand. She smiled at me, hiccuped, then asked, "Why did you want to meet me again?"
"What?"
"You said that I was dangerous. You said we couldn't meet. "So why did you call?"
Carolyn, of course, prepared me for the question.
"I really want to see you again. "I like you."
It was an excuse so disgustingly simple that if it were not true, I'd have a hard time saying it with a straight face. The reality was that it was true. I was dying to see her again, to touch her again, and to feel her warm body against mine.
"Only like?"
"Um..."
She kissed me. "You don't have to answer. "Can I ask you a favour?"
"Depends on the favour."
"I know I ask you a lot of favours."
"I'll let you ask again."
"Ok."
"What's the favour?"
"Make love to me."
We kissed again. She pressed her body against mine and brought her breasts up to my face. Taking the hint, I removed the bra from her breasts, put my mouth around a nipple, and sucked. As I did this, she ground her sex slowly against my thigh through her dress. It was hot and wet.
When I was done with each of her nipples, we swapped places. I put her on the couch, straddled her, and took my dress off over my head. She kissed as much of my naked body as she could reach.
The Bossa Nova stopped; the record player continued spinning, giving off a soft white crackling noise. Outside, crickets chirped in the gardens, the vaporetti motors gurgled in the canals, people chatted and laughed muffled laughs in the terrazas, and somewhere someone sang an Italian love song. Above the soft hum of these sounds, I could hear the sucking sound of tongue kisses on my body. These kisses left marks of saliva that were cool to the touch, which was a nice contrast to how hot our bodies and the summer night air had become As the kisses moved around my body, I felt as though I was spinning with the record player, creating a beautiful loop of sensation that started with the Italian love song and ended with a lingering kiss on my shoulder blade.
As I kissed Villanelle's clit, she gasped and moaned, her arms rising and wrapping around my neck as she savoured the moment. After a while, her breathing became irregular and rapid, and the moans that issued from her throat became louder and more frantic asI kissed my way up her body, gently biting the soft skin of her neck and earlobes as she sighed. Villanelle shuddered in delight and begged for more.
When I realized I didn't have the strength to maintain my oblique posture, I collapsed onto my back. She gets on her belly, leans forward, and kisses me on the mouth. She kisses the side of my face, my nape, the space in between my breasts, and the area above my belly button.
She goes down on me, her tongue riding up my sex. I can feel her hands kneading my hips, then my belly, and then slowly moving up to the sides of my rib cage. I am paralysed with pleasure, my body trembling as I drift away in her arms. I let out a little gasp as my hips lurched inexorably toward her face. My head spins from the combination of her touches. The electricity in the air, the sounds of sex, the smell of her The thrill of tasting Villanelle sparked the excitement of being with her.
After just a moment of silence, I let out a long, loud scream.
I softly detached myself from her silky tongue and placed it where I could love her.
"Let me love you, Villanelle," we kissed and moved around, battling for dominance until she couldn't resist as I worked my fingers inside her, pushing my fingers in deeper and deeper as the pressure and intensity of my thrusts increased. I moved my thumb up to her clit and slowly circled it. She quivered, and the grip in my hair tightened as she came hard, her body shaking against mine. I couldn't help but smile at the thought that I had her, this dangerous KGB spy, wrapped around my finger, completely helpless to my torture.
I licked her inches from orgasm, then stopped at her most vulnerable. I wanted her unsatisfied, starving, and desperate for more, realising she wouldn't get what she wanted unless I too got what I wanted She begged for me to give her release, and I refused, telling her that she must please me first.
My KGB lover sat up straight as I stopped, her eyes blinking as if she were emerging from hypnosis. She clenched her teeth and looked at me with gleaming eyes as she plotted her revenge. When our sex made contact, she started a series of soft but urgent thrusts, rubbing her enlarged clit against mine and making circular movements as if she were trying to give me an intense massage Her movements gradually increased in speed, and her cries became louder and more passionate.
Villanelle moved her body with precision, knowing exactly where to press to make me groan. I could feel her desperation and cry for more, but we both refrained. even though we had a bit of a playful agenda My breaths became laboured, and I felt my whole body shake until we settled into a groove that suited us both, and our rhythm grew more spontaneous and passionate.
Sweat dripped from my brow into my eyes. It stings a little, but I let it sting. Her wet sex felt too good to interrupt. That familiar electricity welled up inside me again. She was about to make me orgasm again.
"Oh God, I'm going to come," I moaned. Her breathing grew heavier as I thrust deeper and faster.
"Oh, Eve," "You're so good," she exclaimed. The orgasm seized my muscles, then exploded inside me in an intense release. Shortly after, I felt wet ecstasy squeeze Villanelle. Our seizing muscles caused us to curl around each other in a tight embrace.
Villanelle relaxed for a moment, calming her deep breathing. A wind came in through the opened windows, carrying the sensual, sticky scent of the sea.
"That happened too fast," I confessed.
"Indeed. You're welcome, baby."
"I thought I was doing you a favour."
"Yes, but I adore feeling you and making you mine. ""Don't you feel it? ""Don't you find it beautiful?"
" I do feel it, and I do find it beautiful "
"Now come lay with me." The feeling I have right now is so intense that I cannot help but be in awe of it.
I obeyed, crawling onto the couch with her. We held each other, nuzzling in silence for a few moments. I savoured the scent of her hair during the tender moment. Twisted orange peel
She fell asleep almost immediately, her arms clinging tightly to my body. I stayed awake a little bit longer, thinking a lot about nothing at all. Her steady breathing and her heartbeat pounded calmly against my skin. I wish I could feel her heartbeat forever.