Swedish Stories Ch. 01

"Are you bored with our lovemaking already?"

"Stop it. See what I mean? That is not what I meant. I am just wondering if it is all connected. How a culture thinks about pleasure, and life, if it translates to their attitudes about sex."

"Swedes have a pretty liberal attitude about sex," David reasoned.

"I know, but in a different way. We think of sex as no big deal and not some dirty forbidden act like the British or Americans. But perhaps we think of it too casually. It is a natural act, sure, but it is not like eating and drinking, which we need to live, it is more than just satisfying an urge. I am wondering if the French think of all three as sensual? Look at the women, the way they move, the way they dress and carry themselves. Even the way they smoke. It is like they are thinking about sex, even when they walk down the street.

"You're getting very deep."

"Come on, indulge me," Sandra said to him while fake-slapping him across the face.

"So, you want to make love like the French?" he asked. "I'm all for it." He looked over at her with a devilish grin.

"I'm trying to be serious."

"I know," he responded letting the humor fade. "So, are you unhappy with our sex life?" he asked her after a pause.

"Not at all," she answered.

He looked at her unconvinced.

"Let me know how it can be better," he said.

She detected a sense of sadness in his voice, forcing her to withdraw from the subject. She knew further converstaion would lead to emotions he was not equipped to handle.

"It's fine," she answered.

A slight breeze swept through the trees then worked its way down into the pool area. It gained strength, knocked over the portable drying rack, then caught her black bikini dragging it toward the pool. David jumped up and caught it just in time.

"Let's go to bed," he suggested.

They went to bed and made love; it started with Sandra on top and riding him gently, then ended with David driving hard into her from behind. When it was over, they fell asleep scented in garlic.

Chapter 4

Breakfast was a boiled egg each, toast with marmalade, and a cup of yogurt. The air was pleasant, the sun having not yet baked the day, and a morning haze hovered over the countryside visible through the trees. After breakfast, they cleared the table together and washed the dishes by hand.

"Mind if I go for a walk?" she asked him.

"Not at all, mind if I stay back?"

"That's okay," Sandra replied after some hesitation and looked for her shoes.

"Enjoy," he said with a smile as she turned and left.

Their villa was on a winding street lined with other white-stucco houses and ceramic roof tiles. Palm trees and various forms of exotic vegetation decorated the yards. Sandra found a path that cut in between one of the houses that took her up a ridge where she hiked to the top along a rocky path. When she reached the top, the deep blue of the ocean opened all around her and cut a clear line against the pale blue sky. She pulled off the elastic band wrapped around her pony tail and shook her hair in the wind. Blonde strands nipped at her cheeks and teased her eyes. She squinted tight and filled her lungs with the sea-scented air, a sensation she didn't mind experiencing alone. She walked around the top for a few minutes enjoying the space of her own private freedom.

She took a different path down the hill and ended up circling back behind their villa where there was a set of stone steps offering the final descent. When she was at the bottom, the sound of water bubbled behind a thick hedge on her left. The thin interwoven branches were trimmed tight forming a wall around the property of the house next to theirs. As she walked a little farther, the hedge thinned out enough so she could see a small fountain in the back corner of their neighbor's house. A small opening in the hedge appeared where the curling branches failed to join.

She looked through.

A deeply-tanned woman wearing only a thin pink bikini bottom lay on a sunbed by an oval-shaped swimming pool. It was hard to tell how old she was, but Sandra guessed her to be close to her age, maybe a little older. Dark brown hair was piled up on her head secured with a white scrunch.

The woman sat up, adjusted her towel, then rolled over on her stomach. As she turned, the silver piercing in the middle of her flat stomach sparkled in the sun. Along the outside of her calf Sandra picked up the dark shape of a tattoo, but she was not able to tell what it was. A faint white line stretched across her back revealed where a bikini top had been.

The house was white stucco characteristic of the region but had two stories and appeared quite large compared to the rest of the villas in the area. Sandra looked for signs if someone else was with her, but there were none; no other towels, clothes, or personal items lying around indicating she had company.

What's a woman doing in that house all alone? Who was she?

Sandra dared not move a muscle, fearful that any small movement would give her away. After a few minutes of observing the mysterious woman, she backed away carefully and turned towards the path, slowly at first, then with a fast walk, continued on her way.

When she was back at the villa, the sun was high in the sky and David was sitting in the shade of the patio overhang wearing long black board shorts and a light- yellow T-shirt.

"How was the walk?" he asked.

"Awesome. I went up on top of the ridge and you can see out over the ocean. It's a fantastic view."

"Great, I'll have to go up there and check it out. You're all sweaty."

"Yes, it was quite a workout, actually. The trail up there is steep."

"Let's go for a swim."

"Okay" she said. "I'll go change."

"No, don't change, just take off those sweaty clothes and jump in."

"I don't know, David. I can't help thinking someone can see us."

"You're no fun."

When Sandra came out of the bedroom in her black bikini, David had taken off his T-shirt and was standing by the side of the pool. He was staring at the water as if he was about to walk across a fire.

"What are you afraid of?" she joked.

He gave her a dirty look and jumped in.

The rest of the afternoon passed just like the day before. They splashed around in the pool for a while then lay down in the sun. When it got too hot, they jumped back in and the cycle started all over again. They ate a lunch of cold sandwiches made with spiced ham and avocado on fresh bread. Sandra drank a sparkling water with a slice of lemon, and David a beer.

"So, have you seen any of our neighbors?" she asked him.

"Nope, not a hint. I'll bet the owners of these houses are rarely here and they mostly just rent them. Probably different people here all the time."

A silence hung in the air as Sandra drifted off into the memory of the woman by the pool. After lunch, they were in the bedroom with their clothes scattered on the floor. She lay down on her back and opened her legs for him.

"I'm still a little sore from yesterday, go slow," she said.

"I'll be gentle."

Day faded into dusk and the two of them ate dinner by the pool. Afterwards, they made love, then showered together before going to bed.

Chapter 5

Light came in through the window and announced the arrival of another morning. A dog barked off in the distance. They both got up, dressed, and prepared breakfast in the kitchen.

"Are you going for another walk?" David asked her as they finished up breakfast.

"Well, I'm thinking about going for a run today," She told him knowing he would never be up for run.

"Well, that counts me out then."

She headed out on the same path and up the ridge like yesterday, but she did not run. When she reached the top, she paused to catch her breath before taking in the view of the sea. The strong wind lapped at her bare arms and legs offering a refreshing respite from the efforts of the climb. If it wasn't for the anticipation of seeing the woman by the pool again, she would have stayed longer, but her racing heart told her it was time to go. She worked her way down the path eventually approaching the hedge where she picked up the sound of the fountain. Finding the hole in the green wall, she crept up to it, and peered in.

She was there, sitting on the sunbed with the back raised at a 45-degree angle reading a magazine. Sandra could see the gentle swells of her breasts, like bowls of a champagne glass, with nipples the color of wine. Shiny oil glistened all over her slender body.

There was a flash of white as she flipped the magazine shut and placed it on the ground. Then she then stood up, stretched her hands up to the sky, and lifted-up on her toes while arching her back. If someone was coming down the path now, Sandra would have been oblivious. Her hands fell back down to her sides and she took a few steps towards the pool. Hooking her thumbs into the sides of her red thong, she slid them down her long, slender legs. When the twisted band was down by her ankles, she stepped out of it, one leg at a time, then threw it on the sunbed. Sandra noticed the thin dark caterpillar of her manicured pubis.

Sandra unbuttoned the top of her shorts and slid her hand inside her underwear stopping when she felt the top of her pubic hair. She looked up and down the path making sure no one was coming, then sank her middle finger lower spreading her labia, then plunged it deep into her wet opening. Working her shorts down over her hips, she fingered herself faster when the woman started to rub new oil up and down her body. She stifled her moans as she came hard into hand. Suddenly aware of her vulnerability, she pulled up her shorts and buttoned the top. She took one last look through the hole in the hedge then turned for home.

The following days passed for her and David with the same routine of one day rolling into the next: they woke up, ate breakfast, then Sandra went for her "run" arriving back at the villa with the smell of her musk on her fingers. The lively conversations at breakfast which had previously been filled with the giddy exchanges of two souls discovering each other had collapsed into trite statements about the weather or the quality of the coffee bracketed between long stretches of silence. Even their lovemaking, which David instigated freely and often, had become less an expression of affection and more an outlet for David's naked lust; his gentleness had given way to pent up aggressive urges he seemed to have been harboring for some time. He was getting rougher with her, not abusive, but she felt more and more like a mannequin or a play-toy to be used at his discretion. Something had awoken in him since the first time they had sex in her apartment six months ago. Whatever it was, Sandra considered his behavior to be a product of a certain kind of immaturity, someone still not in tune with himself, and certainly still not in tune with the emotions of others.

When they had sex, it lasted long enough, but Sandra could only come by bringing herself to orgasm while rubbing herself during David's thrusts. He seemed to have no awareness of her needs, nor was he able to match her physical and emotional rhythms. They spent the long, lazy afternoons nude by the pool, something David insisted on, and Sandra would alternate between reading, dozing, and cooling off in the water. David's approaches towards her were unpredictable and usually preceded by the act of him stroking his erection in front of her as the signal it was time. David, the sweet, intelligent engineering student from Umeå -- her parents loved him, and she was trying to.

Chapter 6

On their last full day before they were scheduled to fly back home, Sandra arrived at the usual place along the hedge, but the woman was not there. Sandra pulled back from the hole and waited a few seconds with the hope that she would suddenly appear on a second look. But after three more attempts, the pool area remained empty. Rejected, she headed home.

When Sandra arrived at their villa, she heard David's voice back by the pool. Making her way through the sitting room and to the patio, she could see he was talking to someone standing in shadow.

"And this is my girlfriend, Sandra." David said turning towards Sandra as she stepped out onto the patio.

It was the woman by the pool.

"Hi, I'm Sylvia," she said extending her hand.

"Pleased to meet you," Sandra said afraid they could hear her heart pounding through her chest.

Sandra guessed she was maybe a few years older than them, quite tall, and skin the color of hot chocolate. She was wearing very short cutoff jeans, a black tank top, and the white scrunch Sandra had seen her wearing, held back honey brown hair. Sandra looked down to study the serpent tattoo on her left calf and caught the scent of coconut oil rubbed into sun-soaked skin.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, I am staying next door to you and my cat has run away." Her French-accented English sounded exotic.

After releasing Sandra's hand, Sylvia stared at Sandra with fierce green eyes.

"The little devil, she is an inside cat, but sometimes she likes to go out and explore. I worry about her when she does this. I don't think she can handle the mean old world out there. Perhaps I spoil her."

"I looked for her around our garden, but I didn't see her," David explained.

"Well, if you see her, I would appreciate it if you knock on my door. I am your neighbor over there," she pointed towards the direction of the vegetation over David's head on the left side of the pool. "Well, just over there, you can't see with all these bushes. But just let me know and I will be very happy," she said with a little laugh.

Sandra watched David out of the corner of her eye and thought he smiled a little too much when she talked. Was he flirting with her before she walked in?

"So, do you live in that house year-round?" Sandra asked.

"No, not permanently. It is my father's, I just stay here in the summer when he's not renting it."

"Where are you from?" David asked.

"Paris."

"Cool, what do you do in Paris?" he continued.

"I'm a photographer."

"Really? What kind of photography do you do? I mean, are you a commercial photographer or more like art photography?" he asked.

"More like art photography."

"What do you two do then?" she asked.

"We just graduated from university back in Sweden, actually. We both studied engineering," David answered.

"Ah, practical people," she said with a laugh.

"Boring people," David added trying to make a joke.

"Speak for yourself," Sandra said slapping David softly in the stomach with the back of her hand.

They all laughed.

"What kind of subjects do you photograph?" Sandra asked.

Sylvia looked at both of them as if an idea just came to her. "I can show you. You must come to me for dinner and I show you. I also want to make up for my intrusion today."

David and Sandra looked at each other.

"Sure, when should we come?" David asked.

"How about tonight?"

"Sounds good. We have no special plans," Sandra said while looking at David for confirmation.

"Great. How about seven o'clock?"

"Sure," they said almost simultaneously.

They all laughed again.

After Sandra and David saw her to the door, they watched her long tan legs walk across the front garden then disappear behind the bushes. When she was gone, David bent Sandra over the kitchen table and took her from behind with her white shorts and sweaty underwear pulled down around her ankles.

Chapter 7

At a few minutes past seven, they stood on the concrete landing in front of Sylvia's house. The sun was losing its grip on the day and long dark shadows stretched across the landscape adding contrast and weight to the verdant backdrop. Clusters of greenery and bursts of red and orange flowers grew in the front beds next to the door. Sandra watched shiny-skinned insects crawl over their thick leaves. David studied the label of the wine bottle he held in his hands.

"Smells nice," David said breathing in hard through his nose.

"Yes, juniper and lavender."

Sandra pressed the little black button triggering a muted chime from within the house. The scratching of Sandra's black leather sandals against grainy concrete marked the time as they waited. When the thick wooden door opened, Sylvia appeared in front of them.

"Hello, my friends, welcome," she said beckoning them to come in. She was dressed in a layered sea green wrap-around skirt that swooped down just below her knees and a white tank top that stretched over the swells of her breasts accenting wide shoulders. Silver hoop bracelets slid down her forearm and collected around her wrists; a necklace of small metal ovals swept across her upper chest. Her shoulder-length hair was combed out into a shiny sheet of glowing brown. Mauve painted toenails peeked out of high cork-heeled sandals that gave her an imposing presence that was as much psychological as it was physical. Sandra noticed the ring on the second toe of her right foot.

David presented the bottle of wine.

"Thank you so much," she said barely looking at the label.

Sandra picked up the scent of sweet spice rolling off her as she turned and led them into the house and noticed how the sweep of her back converged into the narrowness of her waist. The house was decorated in an ultra-modern style much as one would expect from a photographer from Paris. They entered the sitting area where white jute rugs were carefully placed over a shiny gray stone floor. There was a white L-shaped modular sofa, very modern-looking, with an accompanying chair of the same design facing it. Between the two pieces there was an industrial metal coffee table. Sandra took a minute to admire the soft lines of a glass sculpture that sat atop of a mantle above a white stone fireplace. There were some large framed color photographs on the wall which Sandra assumed were hers, but she resisted looking at them feeling as if they were supposed to wait for Sylvia to introduce them.

Sylvia led them onto a back patio where the neck of a champagne bottle stuck out of a ceramic chiller. Three glasses stood on a round mosaic table with metal legs. Sylvia lifted the bottle and filled the glasses accompanied by the clank of metal against metal as her bracelets slid down her wrists. When the glasses were filled, she handed one each to Sandra and David where they stood in a tight circle.

"Welcome," she said raising her glass. Green eyes glowed from the shadows of her smiling face. Her mouth was perhaps a bit too wide for her face and her nose a bit too long, but when put together with her high cheekbones, she had a stunning beauty that defied these imperfections.

She looked at David first, then fixed her eyes first on Sandra, who held her gaze. After taking their first sip, Sandra and David looked at each other wondering if they were out of their league. They waited for the calming effect of the champagne to rescue them.

A platter of grilled lamb with sprouts of young asparagus drizzled in oil is was served on a large rectangular table by the pool. Dark, fruity wine from a local winery was poured into round crystal glasses.

"This is really delicious," Sandra said after her first bite and a sip of wine. The lamb had a gentle rosemary and garlic taste, that when washed together with the wine, Sandra thought could only be described as pure decadence.

"I have never tasted anything this good," David said.

"Me neither," Sandra added.

"Thank you. I am quite glad to have you here. I don't get the chance to talk to many people when I am here, and sometimes I get quite lonely. A bit ironic since the reason I come here is to escape the insanity of Paris." She paused to take a bite then drew the fork slowly from her mouth after swallowing. She had a way of making everything she did look sensual. "But we are funny sometimes, aren't we? We think we know what we want, but we don't."