BLACK ICE
THE PROLOGUE
BLACK ICE PART I
A FOUR PART NOVELLA
BY
RAFFAELLO PATRIZI
Copyright 2011. All rights reserved. Illegal reproduction and redistribution of this book is strictly prohibited.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Real world locations are contained in the story but there is not an accurate representation of towns and districts and instead are loosely based on their world counterparts.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/search/ref=sr_tc_2_0?rh=i%3Astripbooks%2Ck%3ARaffaello+Patrizi&keywords=Raffaello+Patrizi&ie=UTF8&qid=1313928375&sr=1-2-ent&field-contributor_id=B005HFHEH0 US AND OTHER TERRITORIES
It’s early morning at Heathrow airport as a Russian airlines flight from Moscow to London touches down on the runway. The passengers filter in to the terminal awaiting to reclaim their baggage. Most of the passengers end their wait, collect their belongings and make their way towards passport control. A tall blonde figure remains at her leisure and awaits her baggage to make its way to her along the belt. She is wearing a mini skirt with silky smooth bare legs on display and a nice ass. The Autumn cool not proving a deterrent to the young woman’s desire to dress sexy. Cold weather was not something that bothered her as the cool climates and unforgiving winters were a permanent feature of her homeland. She shamelessly adjusts her bra and jostles with her left breast making sure it did not spill out of her low cut top. Her boobs are large and well proportioned and she had no problem in showing off a great amount of cleavage. She reaches in to her shoulder bag to remove from it a small make up mirror. She stares at her reflection, pouting, ensuring that her beauty and femininity were on full display. A man standing next to her could not help but ogle the woman standing beside him. He because instantly drawn to her, and was checking her out from head to toe. He liked what he saw. His wife whom he had been thinking about started to fade in his mind, and replaced instead by this icy hot blonde with the kick ass boobs and long legs. It was not as though the man’s wife was not attractive, but this young woman, was something different. Oozing with confidence and with an allure which he was finding difficult to resist. The woman spots her bag coming along the belt and she tracks it with her eyes, she is about to reach out for it, when the man spots the woman anticipating her bag about to swing around towards her. He reaches out and grasps it firmly and lifts It off the belt.
“I believe this is yours?” he says.
“Yes thank you.” She replies in a thick Russian accent. A smile is etched on her face and the man meets it with a smile of his own.
“So are you here on vacation?” asks the man, curiously.
“Business, but maybe some, how you say?, pleasure?”
The man begins to wonder what business this woman was in and was tempted to ask, but felt it was not really his business to ask. But he does have another question for the woman.
“Is this your first time in the UK?”
“You have many questions, yes? Why you want to know?”
The man is a little taken back by her response and felt maybe he was being a little too intrusive. The English have a lust for small talk, perhaps it was a little different in other places. He was about to wish the woman well and go about his own journey, when the woman asks,
“Mr, I have a question for you now. Do you know where is this address and how I can get there?” She passes over a piece of paper with a hand written address of a hotel on it.
“Yes! Exclaimed the man, I know where that is, bu…..”
“Then you take me there, yes?” Flashing him a look which speared to suggest she was not taking no for an answer.
The man paused for a moment, and thought to himself, that it would not be possible, as he had to get home to his wife and kids not escorting some young dangerously hot woman around London. But surely she could just take a taxi and give the driver her destination? But then another part of his subconscious kicked in and began to drum up a plan, a cover. He could always blame the transport for being late or something would “happen” along the way which delayed him. The woman captivated him. He began to see many possibilities emerging. She was staring at him expectantly, awaiting his answer.
“Yes ok I will take you to that address and tell you about London.” Confirming to himself she was maybe just looking for some company and a few tips about what to do around the city. First time visitors had a habit of getting lost. Beautiful girl lost in big tough old city was not a good thing. Especially when you factor in high levels of violent crime and creeps roaming the streets. Besides, It was not everyday he got to escort a sexy woman around town. It was worth the effort to ensure that this fine specimen of a woman was well versed in city survival and was escorted safely to her hotel.
It is still early morning and the two people have finished with passport control. They are in the main foyer of the terminal building. The man attempts to establish again, some small talk. Communication was a key method of getting to know someone, or so he always believed. There was nothing worse than not making an effort. It would have been very impolite of him to simply say nothing, or not show some interest. He felt intoxicated in her perfume. He wanted to know more, and he would attempt to probe further, the woman to see what he could learn. Maybe she was a model? Long legs? Perfect body. He began to put the pieces together to see what he could come up with. Juggling in his head, of what to say, He felt it best to start from the beginning so he asked the woman for her name.
“You want my name? You want to marry me?” Meeting his question with laughter and mockery. Seemed as though his attempts at learning more about the woman were proving futile. But nonetheless he gave his word to escort her to her destination and he would just play it by ear. He asked if she would like a coffee. She said, that she would like something hot, but not coffee.
“Ah maybe some tea and a pastry or something like that?”
“I want some dick” said the woman calmly and casually, as though it was pretty much a normal statement to make, whilst engaging in small talk. The man’s eyes grew large.
“What!?” asked the man, “what did you say?”
“I start always my morning with a fuck, do you have a problem with that?”
The man almost choked on his own saliva. He could not help but raise his eyebrows. He understood what she was telling him, but for some reason could not process it. As though he was trying to make out like he did not quite get what she meant, as it came so unexpectedly and out of left field. How does one respond to that he thought. She had caught him right off guard.
“I am sure, that later in town you can go out, dancing or to a bar and have some fun with someone.” Trying to appear sympathetic and offer the woman some advice, whilst at the same time having a shooting lustful jolt of lightning increase his arousal. That response made him hot. It was clear that this woman did not want to play around with small talk. She wanted to go right for the jugular. This revelation, this bombshell hit the man square between the legs. Woman are not supposed to come right out with something like that. That’s what a man does. She was 100% woman though, but she had balls. The woman sensed the man spiralling in to heavy thought and bemusement.
“I don’t think you understand me. I am very horny in the morning. All I can think about is sex. If I don’t get fucked, I can’t do nothing for the day until I do.”
The man felt a burning sensation as his blood began to surge. His limp dick began to wake up and his heart started sending irrational but action oriented messages to his sexual control unit. If he understood this correctly the woman wanted some male attention, and she needed it fast.
“Look Mr, are you going to fuck me? Or I go take another man and tell him to do me? Because I will do that. You said you will help me.”
The woman grabbed his hand and ran it over her right breast. There were no people around and the place was quiet. She cupped his hand around it and lifted it up and down around her breast. Then she slipped his hand in to her bra, and under her guidance caressed her large soft tits.
“Do you like them, how do they feel in your hands? Do you want some more of this Mr? I noticed you looking at them when I was fixing my bra earlier. You had that I want to fuck you look.”
The man became so aroused now, he could no longer control his desire. He knew that this was all wrong. In fact he knew it was all wrong from the moment he laid eyes on this seductively open and care free damsel but logic and reason was fading, and replaced by the most animalistic of urges. He could not see his loving wife any longer. He could not say he had a perfect marriage but it was not an unhappy one. Why would he need to cheat? But then, he had no love for this woman. Whatever was about to happen was meaningless. It was just sex, and boy did he want it.
“What do you think? You want to screw me? I’m a very hot fuck. Let’s go Mr. You will enjoy this”
They made their way discreetly to the bathroom making sure no one had spotted them. The woman couldn’t really care if someone did. The man’s eyes were darting around looking out for potential danger. He had more to lose, the woman had not a care in the world it seemed. They went in to a cubicle and locked the door. The woman shed her mini skirt and removed her top. She backed into the man against the door. Her ass rubbing and grinding against his cock. She loved the sensation and was getting so wet. She did not want big gestures, or small talk, none of that. She just wanted to continue on her regular routine. For her this was as normal as opening the curtains. It was a daily ritual which was no different from anyone else’s. Just that hers was purely sexual and needed the assistance of another. Even masturbation was not quite enough for her. Every morning she made sure she got some live dick. Be it the post man, a lover from the previous night, just someone had to be at hand and satisfy her daily needs.
“What you are waiting for? You are gay or what?” She wanted to ignite something in the man and it worked.”
“No! I am going to fuck the shit out of you”, he replied in a harsh and desperate tone. He pulled his pants down to expose his rock hard erect dick.
“Good! Then do it, come on fuck me, I live for this shit!”
The man turned her around and pushed her against the door, She excitedly took her tits out of her bra and let them spill out. He grabbed them from behind and began to caress and squeeze them. The woman moaned with pleasure. He pushed up against her rubbing his cock over her ass and then over the lips of her pussy. It was shaved and smooth and nicely lubricated. With little effort he penetrated her pussy and began to fuck her. There was no feeling out process. The roughness and intensity of his thrusts were mutually appreciated.
“Oh fuck yes you are good! Shit! Screw me hard, that’s it. I know you wanted this from when you saw me. Fuck my wet pussy Mr, fuck it!”
She savoured every hard thrust as though it was the best thing to have happened to her. She moaned with pleasure; the man attempting to satisfy her insatiable appetite. He started to feel guilty though, as he continued to pound away at this Russian beauty, but he could not stop, as it felt so incredible. Sex with his wife had been more methodical and at times like he was just going through the motions. But today he was at a higher level, fulfilling desire like he had not done for many a year. He was 40 however and this was a much needed release from the stresses and boredom that had begun to plague his life. This was the ultimate escapism. But guilt came back with a vengeance
“I have a wife.” he cried out. No longer in control of his actions. His most basic part of his mindset was in control now, he it was wrong, but he was powerless.
“Good, and I am sure you love her, yes?” Said the woman, unable to get her words out clearly whilst still moaning with every thrust, fully enjoying and into the experience.
“ Of course I love her, yelled the man, you are nothing” He fucked her harder.
“Then what is the problem? We are just screwing, yes?!” She takes the roughness of his thrusting in her stride.
The man pulls out of her and sits down on the toilet seat, he motions the woman to sit on him so she could ride him. She is surprised by his new found confidence and is all the more turned on. She gets up on him face to face and begins to ride him.
“Kiss me!” she cries. The man does just that, he presses his lips against hers and begins to taste her slowly. This sent ripples of energy through her body. She fucked him with all the energy she had and was really in to it. She was riding that thing like it was going to be her last fuck. The man felt himself close to climaxing. But the woman would not slow down. She was working him hard, and he was about to blow.
“Get the fuck off me, I am going to cum” moaned the man. She attempted to ride him harder, not taking stock of the potential danger. Nothing phased this woman one bit. The man had to assume control, he stood up, forcing the woman to rock back and fall back slightly just as she herself came. Her body reflexed uncontrollably as she climaxed. She then took hold of his dick as he sprayed his load over her face. She ran her hands over her body now feeling charged up and revitalized. She wiped a bit of cum off her face and licked it.
“Ok Mr, now you can get me some coffee.”
The man and the Russian are now at the taxi rank outside the airport. He decides to keep good on his word of escorting her in to town. She now has a spring in her step after her earlier activity.
“What is your name Mr?” Asks the woman, intrigued.
“Peter,” says the man. “My name is Peter,“ he repeats
“Eva, nice to meet you Peter”. They get into a cab and communicate the address to the driver. Peter is overcome with guilt now, but felt a strange relief. What his wife would not know, cannot hurt her. He would get this over and done with and be back to his regular routine and his loving wife. This was just a little adventure. He deserved as much. He decided that he should re-introduce that topic he tried earlier and asked.
“So Eva what are your plans”?
“To have as much sex as I possibly can,” she replied, again taking Peter by surprise. She smiled.
“you are here for sex, Eva?”
“Yes why not? I decided as I was on the plane that I would take a career change. I’m going to get fucked, and I’m going to get paid.”
“You are going to work as a prostitute??”
“You have a problem with that, Peter? When did you become my husband? I don’t remember marrying you”. Her sarcastic outbursts began to bother Peter but this new revelation was another eye opener.
“Hey Peter, do you want to finger me”? The driver appeared to remain oblivious to the conversation, as though it fell on deaf ears.
“Here? Now?” he whispered harshly.
“Sure, don’t you like my pussy, Peter? You seemed to love it earlier.”
Peter felt the temptation too difficult to resist and moved his hand under Eva’s skirt. He reached inside her panties and began to rub and finger Eva. She did not try to contain her pleasure and let out a burst of joy. Peter fingered her deep and slow. The driver surely knew what was going on, but he remained professional and continued on the journey.
As the taxi pulled up at the hotel, Eva thanked Peter for escorting her and for the sex.
“So I will be seeing you again, Peter?” She asked curiously with a sly grin.
“I don’t think so, I go back to my family now, but thanks. It was nice to meet you.”
Peter ended up with a lot more than he bargained for. He wiped his face with his sleeve and sighed. In all honesty there was not a lot to stop Peter from seeing Eva again. He had learnt that she was going to work as a whore, and he knows where she is staying. But he needs to put this out of his mind. The once was ok, anymore and it will cause problems. She was a live wire. A sexual predator. He did not need her in his life. He would remember the encounter and get back to his routine.
“Ok, bye Peter.” She waves him off as he gets back in the taxi, and directs the driver to take him home. He would settle the fare at the end, including the one from the airport too. It had been quite a long morning and Peter himself had been tired. Flying back from Dubai to deal with his real estate which was in development. He had a very important meeting with the contractors. The taxi pulled up at Peter’s 6 bed grand Victorian house in a suburb of London. He paid the driver and thanked him.
Eva Lobacheva handed over her passport in order to confirm her identity with the receptionist. He welcomed her and ordered the porter to take her bags to her room. Eva gestured to the porter to disappear without even thanking him, She had more important matters to attend to. She had a steely hard focus on her face as she opened the door of her room. She threw her bags on to the floor recklessly and sat down on her bed. She reached in to her jacket pocket and took out what appeared to be a brown sleeved booklet. It was a British passport. She opened the passport to reveal the identity of the passport holder. The photo resembled a familiar face. The name read, Peter Fisher.