Chapter 2: Interlude with Waffles

I woke to see sunlight slanting through the Venetian blinds on my bedroom window. Natalie still slept; my left arm rested across her lovely little breasts, and she clasped it against her body like a security blanket. But I give her much more security than a blanket, I thought, feeling a warm glow of pride for my exploits of the previous night. I got up on my elbow so that I could see her face, moving carefully so as not to wake her, and recalled a truth I had learned years before: there is no sight in the universe more beautiful than your lover's face in repose, bathed in the golden light of morning. Especially this lover, I thought. I still couldn't quite believe my luck. In the previous twenty-four hours, I had completed the mission to which I had devoted the last two years of my life, ending the lives of the white-supremacist thugs who had gunned down my parents and made a snuff video of my fiancee. In the process, I had rescued their latest intended victim: the stunningly beautiful young actress and model Natalie Portman. Natalie Levine, I reminded myself, and smiled. Telling me her real name had been her first act of trust; her last had been the willing surrender of her virginity. Which she may well regret, once she's back in her normal life and has time to think about all of this. My smile vanished. I just hope she doesn't resent me for accepting her offer. I don't want her hurt, and I don't want her to hurt me, either; she can make a whole hell of a lot of trouble for me, if she wants to.

Natalie interrupted my musings by stirring in her sleep, rolling partway onto her back so that her shoulder pressed against my chest and her face turned toward the ceiling. The temptation was irresistible: I lowered my head and kissed her, a feather-light brush of my lips over hers. She responded by parting her lips slightly, and I moistened them with the tip of my tongue. In a moment she was kissing me in earnest, slow and deep with tongues entwining, while she turned the rest of the way onto her back. After we stopped, I watched a slow smile light up her face, spreading from her mouth up to her eyes, which finally fluttered open.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," I said.

"Good morning, my Prince," she replied. "And how dost thou this fair spring morning?"

I tried for a moment to frame a faux-medieval answer, then gave it up as a bad job. "Better than I've ever been since... since my loss. I've been dead for two years, Natalie, and it feels great to be alive again. And you know what? It wasn't taking out the Shadows that did that for me. It was you. As I said last night, you made it all worth while."

"I'm glad. Because you made it worthwhile being kidnapped, Sam. I know this sounds crazy, but I think I'm actually glad that those scumbags chose me. You turned my nightmare into a fairy-tale, and gave me the most beautiful, perfect experience I've ever had."

A snatch of melody from an old Danny Kaye movie surfaced in my head, and I felt so exuberant I just had to sing: "What starts like a scary tale/Ends like a fairy-tale/And life couldn't possibly -- not even probably -- life couldn't possibly better be!"

Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by Natalie's taste in entertainment. "The Court Jester, " she said. "I love that movie, and the song is exactly right. I have a couple of friends that've slept with their boyfriends, you know, and both of them said that the first time was disappointing -- first it hurt, and then it was over just when they were starting to like it. My first time was better than I ever could have imagined. Nothing can ever take that away from me, and I owe it to you." She wrapped her arms around me and drew me in for another long kiss.

"I can't help wondering, though," I said after we stopped, "why did you do it? I mean, you were the girl that wasn't going to be asked to the prom because you'd made it clear to the guys that you wouldn't make out with them afterwards. Okay, so you did get asked, but you went out of your way to tell me that the guy was just a friend. Not to sound ungrateful, but I'm curious: what made you change your mind?"

She gave me a somewhat incredulous look. "Isn't it obvious? Sam, I had six hours in that van to resign myself to the fact that my first experience with sex was going to be a gang rape that I'd be lucky to survive -- wouldn't have survived, as it turned out. All the way, they kept pinching and poking and pawing at me, and laughing about how much 'fun' they were going to have when they got home..." Her voice caught.

I hugged her hard and said, "It's all right, sweetheart. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to; don't get all verklempt."

The Yiddish word made her smile. "I'm okay. Anyway, I started to wish that I'd made love before. I was afraid that if I survived what they were going to do to me I'd be scarred for life, never be able to have a normal relationship... and I thought, if only I had some good memories about sex, maybe I could take my mind away and concentrate on that and what they were doing to my body wouldn't matter so much. And then we were there, and it was starting to happen, and to make it worse they were going to film it all -- you must know how I feel about doing nude scenes in movies, I've turned down roles because of that... and then it was over, just like that, they were dead, and there was this gentle voice telling me everything was going to be all right, and gentle hands taking off the tape and the ropes. You were so good to me, Sam, do you realize that? I think you're one of the kindest people I've ever met. Maybe it stands out more because you're also capable of violence... but even in that, you weren't cruel. I could hear what happened, even though I couldn't see it; they were all dead in less than a minute. I think I'm a pretty nice, sensitive person, but by the time I got to that warehouse I was ready to burn those bastards at the stake, and if someone did to my family what they did to yours, well..."

"I used to feel that way, Natalie," I admitted. "At first I wanted to hang the White Shadows by their toes and skin them alive. But after a while, I decided they just weren't worth it. Friedrich Nietzsche said that whoever battles monsters must take care not to become one. A lot of what Nietzsche said may have been crazy, but that particular comment made a lot of sense to me. If I hurt them they way they'd hurt me, that would mean I was no better than they were. They still had to die, Natalie, but not so I could feel better for it, even though I was pretty sure I would -- and I do, actually. But the real reason they had to die was to stop them from doing to others what they did to my family. Did I call it revenge last night? A better term might be 'pest control.' What matters isn't how quickly or slowly they died, or even whether they knew why; what matters is that they're gone, and the world is a better place because of it."

"You know, until yesterday I don't think I could ever have agreed with a statement like that... that the world is better for somebody's death. But after hearing about what they've done, and what they meant to do to me... you're right, it's good that they're dead."

"You had doubts?"

"I didn't think about them, last night. I was just thinking about how good it was to be alive. And to have a choice about where and when and with whom I would get rid of my virginity -- I started to think of it as a burden during that awful ride in the van. And then there you were, Sam, and I'd never met anyone like you... you were like James Bond, or like I told my dad, a modern knight-errant. And I thought maybe you would expect me to go to bed with you, as a reward, and I was all ready to put up a token resistance and then let it happen, but you were a perfect gentleman. And that just made you even more attractive, but I wasn't sure how to approach you, so I just went to bed and figured I'd work it out later. After all, maybe it was foolish, wanting to throw myself at somebody I'd only just met, even if he did save my life. But then I had this dream, Sam... I remember it now, some of it: I was back in the van, only it wasn't a van, it was a coffin, and there were these cold, dead hands touching me everywhere, and voices whispering..." She shuddered. "I woke up and tried to calm down and couldn't, so I came to you. And you made it all right; sitting there with you, with your arm around me, felt as safe as sitting with my parents in my own living room. I think that's when I realized that it wasn't just attraction, I was falling in love with you -- falling fast without a parachute, but that was okay if only you would catch me. And I knew something else, Sam... if I didn't act right then, there was a good chance that you would drive me home this morning, say goodbye, and catch the next flight to Israel... and I would never see you again."

"So you seduced me," I said, smiling at her.

She looked surprised at that description. "Yeah... yeah, I guess I did. Not that you were that hard to seduce..."

"Natalie, love, I doubt you'll ever find out whether a man you want is hard to seduce or not; you're simply irresistible."

"You think so?"

"I know so. For all my training, for all my self-discipline, I could no more have told you 'no' last night than I could have grown wings and flown away."

"And what about this morning?" she asked, smiling mischievously.

I smiled back. "You want an encore performance?"

"What better way to start the day?" She raised herself on one elbow, then sank back down with a grimace. "Ow. I should have done some stretching exercises after all those hours lying in one position in that blasted van... I'm sore all over."

"Ah. Our, um... aerobics might have something to do with that, too. But here, let me see if I can help. Just lie flat on your stomach and relax."

"Okay." She complied, while I got a bottle of sandalwood-scented oil from my night table drawer. I got up on my knees, straddling her waist, and poured a little of the oil into the palm of one hand, rubbing it between my hands to warm it. Then I began massaging her neck and shoulders, feeling for the places where muscles knotted up and slowly working the tension out of them. I worked my way gradually down from her shoulders to the small of her back, alternating between long strokes with the heels of my hands, and kneading with the tips of my fingers. "How's that?" I asked. "More pressure, or less, or is this just right?"

Natalie smiled blissfully. "Just right," she replied. "Thanks, Sam, it feels... 'superb, '" she finished, mimicking Willie's father in Beautiful Girls. I chuckled and applied a bit more oil, then began working on her lower back with my knuckles.

"It's easy when a girl has a light, slim build, like you," I commented. "My first girlfriend, back when I was in college... she wasn't overweight, exactly, but she was... I suppose stocky is the best word. I used to give her backrubs, and she always wanted me to press down as hard as I could and dig in with my fingers. After fifteen minutes of that, my hands would get tired and I'd have to stop. But this, I could keep up for hours... as long as you like, love.

"Well, I do have to get home some time today... and I still want that 'encore performance.'"

"Oh, we still have plenty of time," I replied. "I said I would drive you home, but it occurs to me that we could catch the Southwest Airlines shuttle from BWI to LaGuardia and save about three hours of travel time."

Natalie's expression brightened. "Oh! Well, in that case, how about a full body massage?"

"Good thought," I replied, shifting down a bit so that I could start working on her lovely little bottom. "This reminds me of a word game Andi invented," I said after a moment. "The idea was to come up with alliterative variants on 'beautiful bottom.' You can't use the same first letter twice, and the last person who can think of one wins.

Natalie grinned at me over her shoulder. "Okay, you first," she said.

"Admirable ass."

She giggled. "All right, I have one: fabulous fanny."

"Not bad. Shall we say the winner gets to be on top?"

"Sounds fair to me. It's your turn."

"Delightful derriere," I said, giving hers a squeeze.

"Ooh, good one. All right, let me see... terrific tush."

"Perfect posterior."

"You come up with all the best ones," she grumbled.

"I've played before, and besides, I've got the inspiration right in front of me," I replied. "But what matters is who gets the last one. Your turn."

"Okay. Splendid seat."

"Cute can."

"Respectable rear."

I laughed at that. "Some people might not call it very respectable just now... but all right. Excellent end. And I believe that's the last one; I don't recall any other euphemisms for 'bottom' that don't start with a letter we've already used. You can still be on top if you want, though."

"No, wait a minute, I've got one: 'wonderful wump.'"

"Oh! I never thought of using that Elmer Fudd accent to add another letter... okay, you win." I moved down a little further, massaging the backs of her thighs now, as well as continuing to work intermittently on her lower back and buttocks. She closed her eyes and relaxed as I gradually worked my way down over her calves, finishing up with a thorough foot massage. After about fifteen minutes of that, I paused and kissed her right heel. She curled her toes and made a purring sound. I leaned down and kissed the hollow of her right knee, then the swell of her left buttock, the small of her back, the tip of her right shoulder blade, and the nape of her neck. Then I pursed my lips and blew a thin stream of air over her ear. She chuckled softly.

"You want me to turn over now?" she asked.

"Well, you did say 'full body massage, '" I replied. Natalie obligingly rolled onto her back. I straddled her again and began to rub her shoulders and upper arms. After a couple of minutes of that, I moved my attentions to her breasts. Her areolae darkened and crinkled, and her nipples sprang erect, popping up between my fingers as I massaged the firm-soft flesh of her bosom. I lingered there for quite a while before moving down to her smooth belly, rubbing it with a light, circular motion, spiraling out from her navel until I crossed her mons. Mischievously, I slipped one finger between her thighs and ran it down the length of her slit.

She caught my wrist and said, "Not yet. It's my turn." I nodded and got off her, lying face-down so that she could return the massage. Her delicate looking fingers proved surprisingly strong as she followed the same sequence I had with her, working gradually from my neck down to my feet and kissing her way back up before asking me to turn over. When she straddled me again, working her fingers into the flat planes of my pectorals, I could feel her vulva pressing against my stomach. The sensation made my cock rise and stand at attention; I contracted the Kegel muscles at the base, making it tap against her tailbone. She raised her eyebrows, and I said, "About that encore..."

"Okay... rubbers are in here, right?" She climbed off and reached for the night table.

"Yah. And the massage oil goes back in there, too, if you don't mind..."

She put it away, then produced a condom and the K-Y. "You want a bit of this on the inside, right?" she asked. I nodded. She tore open the packet, put a drop of the jelly into the tip of the condom, and carefully rolled it onto my straining cock. Then, instead of applying more K-Y to the outside, she straddled my thighs and inched herself up my body, pushing the shaft of my cock back against my stomach and letting her vulva slide up it, wetting it with her own lubricant. When she reached the tip, she raised herself on her knees, took it in her hand, and lined it up with her vagina; then she sank ever so slowly back down, impaling herself on me.

A tremor ran up my spine, and I had to fight for a moment to keep my control; I wanted this to last as long as possible. "Wow," I gasped, as the edge receded. "You learn fast, sweetheart. If I didn't know first- hand that you were a virgin twelve hours ago, I'd think you'd been taking an AP course in applied sensuality."

She grinned and leaned forward, her hair falling like a curtain to one side of her face, and placed her hands on my shoulders. Her clit pressed against my pubic bone, and her inner muscles fluttered around my cock. "You like this?" she asked, breathily.

"That's the understatement of the year, love. You're magnificent." She smiled at the compliment, then straightened up and began moving up and down, finding her rhythm on me. I reached up and cupped her breasts, stroking my thumbs over her nipples. She shut her eyes and threw her head and shoulders back, losing herself in the sensations of our love making.

Perhaps because I had not "warmed her up" with oral sex this time, Natalie's climax was a long time coming, and it took every ounce of my considerable willpower to hold off my own orgasm as she slowly climbed toward hers. Finally, she stiffened and began keening, her vagina clenching frantically around my cock. As it had last night, her orgasm triggered mine, an electric surge of pleasure that started in my loins and crackled through my nervous system, making my whole body tingle. As it subsided, I sat up and hugged Natalie, and she slumped against my chest. I crossed my legs tailor-fashion, she wrapped hers around my waist, and we sat there for a while as our strength returned. At length, my softening cock slipped out of her with an audible plop. I chuckled, and she raised her head from my shoulder and smiled at me, our faces just inches apart. "That was even better than the first time," she said.

"For me as well," I replied. "You're an even better lover than you are an actress -- and you know I love your movies."

"Yeah." She tilted her head to one side and kissed me, a slow, sweet kiss that warmed the fading afterglow of our passion. I thought for a moment of starting again, but decided that if we did that we might never get out of bed -- and I had promised that I would take her home today. When the kiss broke, I asked, "Would you like to take a shower?"

"Together, you mean?"

"Naturally; no reason to waste water."

She grinned at me. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot... although I'm not sure that the two of us showering together will use any less water than we would separately."

"Perhaps not," I allowed. "But it's certainly more fun." I disengaged myself from her and stood up; then she held out her hands, and I took them in mine and pulled her to her feet and into another lingering hug and kiss.

"Sam?" Natalie asked somewhat diffidently when we stopped. "Do you mind if I, um, use the bathroom alone before we shower?"

"Not at all, sweetheart; just because we're lovers doesn't mean we can't have privacy when we want it. Take as long as you need."

"Thanks, I'll just be a minute." She vanished into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to dispose of the condom and wipe off most of the K-Y and semen with a couple of Kleenex.

When Natalie opened the door again, I said, "I need to do the same. You can wait outside if you like, or stay and get the water running."

"I guess I don't mind if you don't," she said. She turned and went to the tub while I stepped to the toilet and emptied my bladder.

"It's probably easier for guys," I observed as I flushed. "We can face the wall while doing our business, and we're used to urinals in our public restrooms." Natalie had the water going now, and was holding her hand under the spigot to adjust the temperature before turning on the shower.

I should mention that my bathroom is not what you would typically expect in a farm house; I expanded it after I moved in, installing a whirlpool tub with glass doors and an adjustable shower head. As I had told Natalie the night before, I like to live comfortably. "You know," I said, "It might be a good idea to take a bath instead of a shower; soaking in the tub helps get the massage oil out of your pores."

"Good thinking," she replied, raising the little switch that plugged the drain, and turning up the faucets so that the tub would fill faster. Even with the water on full blast, it was several minutes before we climbed in. I turned on the whirlpool pump and then stretched out with Natalie in my lap, leaning back on my chest as I rested against the back of the tub. For a few minutes we just lay there, luxuriating in the hot, swirling water. Then I picked up the soap and washcloth and proceeded to wash Natalie's breasts and shoulders, delighting in the slick warmth of her wet skin under my hands. She sat up, allowing me to do her back as well. When that was done she raised one arm and then the other, then stood up so that I could wash her belly, thighs, and bottom, and finally sat back down and lifted one leg at a time so that I could get to her calves and her dainty little feet. When I had thoroughly soaped her entire body, she took the soap and the cloth and did the same for me. "Careful with that," I said, as she ran soapy fingers over my semi-erect cock. "It's loaded." She laughed and stroked it a couple of times, until I reminded her that we didn't have all day.

Once we had finished washing each other's bodies, I got the shampoo and spent several minutes working it into her scalp -- another form of massage. Again, she returned the favor. Finally, we drained the tub, stood up, and turned the shower on to rinse off the shampoo and soapy bath water, embracing and kissing passionately under the spray. I got out first, picked up a towel and held it out so that Natalie could step into it, and we dried each other, after which I carefully brushed out her silky brown hair.

"You really know how to make a girl feel appreciated, Sam," she said, as I put the brush away.

"Thank you," I replied. "It's nice to know that I haven't lost my touch in two years."

"Definitely not." She thought of something then that made her pause; she gave me an appraising look, then asked, "Has it really been two years? I mean, I don't want to be nosy, but well... you did have condoms and massage oil in your bedside drawer..."

I took a long moment before answering, wondering how she would take the truth. Finally I said, "Two years since I had a real lover, Natalie; two years since it was anything more than another deception, another piece of the man I was pretending to be. No, I haven't been entirely celibate; in the circles I've been moving in, that would have been suspicious. I've had a few one-night stands and weekend flings... I've used up condoms, and massage oil, and shared baths too. But I haven't brushed a girl's hair since Andi was killed. It's funny, the things we hang onto; that little ritual, trivial as it might seem, was very special for us, and I've waited for someone I really cared about to share it with. I hope that Andi would have approved of my choice."

She looked up at me gravely. "I hope so too, Sam. She must have been quite a girl; I wish I could have met her."

I nodded. "She would have liked that. She loved your first two movies as much as I did." I decided not to mention that Andi had been bisexual, at least in theory, and had been as taken with young Natalie as I had; I wasn't sure how she would take that information. "But we can't change the past, Natalie; all we can do is try to make the future better. C'mon, lets get dressed and have some breakfast."

We went back to the bedroom. Natalie picked up her dress and paused, looking at it. "This is going to stick out like a sore thumb in the airport," she said. "I wish I had something else. I don't suppose you'd have anything in the house that would fit me?"

"No," I said, pulling on a t-shirt, "I'm afraid not. And you're right, that would attract an awful lot of attention. Tell you what, just put this on for now" -- I handed her a light terrycloth robe from the closet -- "and I'll see what I can come up with after breakfast."

I finished dressing and went to the kitchen, with Natalie in tow. There I began pulling ingredients from the cupboards and refrigerator. "I was planning to celebrate this morning anyway," I said, as I got out my blender and began grinding up a mixture of cashews, pecans, and sunflower seeds. "This is my father's recipe for waffles. Have you ever read Lord of the Rings?" She nodded. "Well, this is the closest thing you're ever likely to find in real life, both in flavor and nutrition, to the waybread of the elves."