The Calling - Cover

The Calling

Copyright© 2017 by Submissive Romantic

Chapter 7

The wheels of government normally move at a snail’s pace. Not so in this case. David introduced Peter as a seminarian student here to do research, that he would be staying in David’s house, and that David could personally vouch for his fine character. Peter was taken into a separate office where he had a short but intense interview with another gentleman, and was asked numerous personal questions. Then he was returned to the reception area where he and David waited. After what seemed like an eternity he was presented with a six-month visa and wished a pleasant stay.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“I felt like I was being grilled by the Bishop about why I wanted to be a priest.”

“Well it’s over now, next we call El Al to get your reservation cancelled. And then the hard part: telling Dina that she’s going to be having a house guest for the next couple of months.”

“If you think it’s going to be a problem...”

“No problem at all; once we get past all the shouting and the pounding on the table, everything will be fine.”

Peter stared at him in disbelief as they got into the car. Laughing, David reassured him that he was just kidding.

As they drove to David’s house, Peter called and cancelled his flight, then passed the phone back to David, who called his daughter to tell her that they were having a guest for dinner and that he was going to stay with them for several weeks. This part of the conversation was spoken in Hebrew and from the tone of David’s voice had not gone as well as he had expected.

After the call David said, “See, I told you it wouldn’t be a problem. She was a little concerned at first, but when I told her you were studying to be a priest, she calmed down.” The rest of the two-hour drive was mostly done in silence.

When they arrived in the late afternoon, Peter took his suitcase from the back of the car and followed David into the house. They ascended a staircase to the second floor of the house; this appeared to be the main living quarters. There was a large living room in the front of the house, and an equally large kitchen and dining room toward the back.

“She must be up in her room,” David said, then called out, “Dina, I’m home; come down and meet our guest.”

Peter held his breath as he heard her footsteps on the stairs to the third floor. She entered the room like a conquering hero, her head held high and with a look of extreme confidence. Dressed in jeans and a soft cotton shirt she walked across the room and greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek.

“Dina, I’d like you to meet Peter; Peter my daughter Dina.”

Peter didn’t extend his hand, choosing instead a slight nod of head and a friendly “Hi”. This was not the time, not the place, for their first healing process.

Peter was correct in his earlier estimate of her height, she appeared to be about six feet tall; even in her bare feet about eight inches taller than his five-foot-four. Her shoulders were much broader than his and she was probably at least forty pounds heavier. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and reached past her shoulders to the middle of her back. She had piecing dark brown eyes, a sensuous full lipped mouth, and in Peter’s mind she was extremely beautiful. Her only flaw, which was not natural, but man-made, was a four inch scar that ran over her left cheek down to the corner of her mouth. To Peter it didn’t make her any less beautiful, only more mysterious and exotic.

David asked, “Peter, can I get you anything to drink?”

“A bottle of water if you have any.”

Dina went into the kitchen with David, who retrieved a bottle of water for Peter and a bottle of beer for himself. After handing it to him said, “I think it’s for the best if we go into the living room and relax while Dina makes dinner. I found that I normally just get in her way when I try to help. First, however, I should show you to your room.”

The third floor consisted of four bedrooms: a master bedroom and bath in the back of the house, two bedrooms in the front of the house, one bedroom on one side, and a large bathroom on the other. David showed Peter his room in the front of the house, indicated that the other front bedroom was his oldest daughter’s room and that Dina’s room was across the hall from the bathroom.

Peter hung his clothes in the closet and placed his other clothes and personal things in the chest of drawers. Once he was all settled in, he returned to the second floor and walked into the kitchen where Dina was standing over the stove stirring the contents of a pot. The room was filled with a wonderful aroma, a combination of spices that he couldn’t quite identify.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked; “I don’t want to be any trouble for you.”

“I can assure you that you won’t be any trouble for me at all.”

Not quite sure how to take her comment, Peter grabbed his bottle of water off the table and retreated to the living room where David was watching a basketball game.

“This works out well for me; I get a chance to relax a little today and get ready for my next tour group that lands tomorrow morning. I’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep and still be able to meet them when they land at eight. I’m sorry I won’t be here tomorrow for breakfast; I have to leave the house by 5:30.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure Dina and I can get along fine until you get back.”

“I’ll be gone all week. This group wants to concentrate on Jerusalem Bethlehem and Jaffa, so I won’t be able to stop in to see how everything is going, but I will call when I can.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine; I want to take it slow and easy with her. I don’t want to spook her.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Peter and David doing most of the talking. The meal was a delicious yet simple vegetable stew, served with a large plate of flat breads and butter, and fruit jams. After dinner Peter insisted on clearing the table for Dina while she rinsed and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.

After dinner Dina excused herself and disappeared down a flight of stairs while the men stayed in the living room talking over a cup of decaf espresso.

“Don’t mind Dina; it usually takes a while for her to feel comfortable with strangers. She’s downstairs in her gym doing her usual evening routine. I don’t know about you, but I’m bushed; I’m going to head upstairs. Good night.”

Peter stayed downstairs gazing out the picture window. In the distance the moonlight reflected off the surface of the Sea of Galilee. It was all so peaceful; it was hard to believe that this land was the site of so much conflict. A conflict was going on in Peter’s head as well. He so wanted to sneak downstairs and watch Dina in her gym, but he didn’t want to upset her and he certainly wasn’t up to starting her healing process tonight. So reluctantly, he shut the living room lights and he too retired for the night.

Peter woke early the next morning. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he determined that David had already left to meet his new tour group. Picking out his clothes for the day, he left his room to go take a shower. As he showered he thought about how he was going to begin Dina’s healing.

‘I’m going to have to take this slow and easy; maybe a brief touch on the arm would be best. Take away her pain bit by bit.’

He was still pondering his best course of action when he opened the bathroom door and turned the wrong way, nearly running into Dina as she came out of her room. It took a few moments before he realized that she was totally naked.

“Oh my God, oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he yelled as he turned and practically ran back to his room.

Dina laughed as she exclaimed, “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever seen a naked woman before?”

As he shut his door he thought to himself, ‘You’re right, Dina; you’re the first naked woman I’ve ever seen. And you’re magnificent.’

He climbed on his bed, closed his eyes and tried to picture her. She had a very athletic build, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, nicely curved hips, long muscular legs. Her arms looked strong and sculptured. Although her arms were deeply tanned, her whole body was much darker than his milky-white paleness. Her breasts sat high and proud on her chest, her nipples pointing slightly skyward. Everything about her was perfect, just as he had imagined it would be ... except for the scars. She had several jagged scars, one on her upper right arm and one on her shoulder and upper chest. They looked like bullet or shrapnel wounds. There were also numerous small, thin lines on her chest and breasts, covering her sculpted abdomen. There was a large scar on her left thigh as well. He could only imagine the trauma and pain that she had suffered.

Peter dozed, lost in his thoughts, for about an hour.

‘I can’t stay in my room forever; I have to face her so I can heal her.’

He left his room and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Dina was standing at the stove preparing breakfast. At first there was an awkward silence, and then they both tried to speak at once.

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