Archive for April, 2015

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 22)

April 30, 2015 Leave a comment

I found myself standing before Naomi Cheslow, not knowing what to do or what Naomi was thinking or feeling at that moment. In the space of about thirty seconds, she learned that I had been an occasional lover to her associate, Aileen Schachter. She learned that Aileen had assumed that she and I were going together on a mutually exclusive basis. She knew that I did not share that assumption. On the other hand, I knew almost nothing about Naomi.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you. I didn’t know you were in a relationship.”

“I wasn’t in a relationship,” I said. “I had no idea that Aileen had put that much importance on it. The truth is, I thought she slept with me just to get me to join N3.”

“Is that why you joined?” said Naomi.

“Not really. We met when I went to visit my old neighbour, Mr. Hahn. The Aryans had brutalized him and raped his daughter, Molly. Molly was just a little girl on the street where I grew up, before my family moved to the suburbs,” said I. “Mr. Hahn was a friend of my father’s, and was the barber who gave me my first haircut.”

“And Aileen showed up and recruited you?” she said.

“That’s it in a nutshell,” I said.

“Do you want to go after her?” Naomi said. I thought for a moment about that possibility. I was forced to decide to let it be. I was very fond of Aileen, and she aroused me partly because she was so petite. I found that her magnificent body in miniature was very attractive. I have to admit that it was probably because it made me feel bigger. I was not small, just average at five-foot-nine. Beside Aileen… naked in bed, I felt like a male animal. I’m sure that’s what made my lovemaking with Aileen so effective. I ‘took’ her, as they say, and that was exactly what she wanted, it seems.

“No, I don’t want to go after her,” I said. “It would give her reason to believe that I want an exclusive relationship with her.”

“Do you?”

“No. I’m sorry that I had to hurt her, but I think she should have seen the affair for what it was. We had talked about not getting ‘too involved’ with each other. She must have been insincere about it,” said I.

“Are you involved with someone,” Naomi said.

“No, I’m not,” I said.

“Neither am I,” said Naomi.

“That surprises me,” I said. “Why would a striking woman like you be unattached… unless that’s what you intend.”

“You must know that being a ‘striking woman’ as you say can be a burden. Every dick, dork and dirty old man takes a shot at you. It’s not easy to find a sincere man who cares about more than having a big hunk of ‘arm candy’ with him.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Could we have some wine?” Naomi said.

“Sure,” I said. “Red or white? French; Italian or German?”


Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 21)

April 29, 2015 Leave a comment

I was relieved when Naomi Cheslow went back to her room after the fashion show she’d put on for me. Every outfit she’d bought was a knockout on her. Of course, when a woman is over six feet tall, lean and toned, clothes come to life on her. I was in a constant state of denial against my lust for her. Worse yet, her personality was revealed as pleasant, thoughtful and generous,and I began to grow real feelings for her. This was something I had to fight off. It’s inevitable that I would get hurt. This gorgeous, wealthy amazon has dated movie stars; what could she possibly see in me?

The doorman buzzed. “Miss Schachter, sir, to see you,” he said.

“Send her up, thanks, Charlie,” I said. It didn’t occur to me that there could be any friction because of Naomi being here. For one thing, I had assumed that Naomi had told Aileen Schachter of the arrangement ahead of time. They’re in the same N3 group and plan strategies together, so why wouldn’t Naomi’s strategic hiding place be known to her cohort?

I stepped out into the hall to welcome Aileen as she came along from the elevator. She surprised me a little when she stood on tip-toe, pulled my head down and kissed me strongly. She released me and went inside. I followed her in and closed the door.

“How have you been?” I said. “Can I get you something? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be great, thanks,” she said. “We have to discuss a strategy because our spies tell us that the Aryans have another atrocity planned, and I’m wondering why Clark McCracken hasn’t tipped us off yet. He better not back out of our deal or I swear I’ll publicize the photo all over town of him sucking a dick.”

We sat at the kitchen counter sipping coffee when Naomi entered in skin-tight stretch jeans and a silk shirt that hung on her like a flowing curtain. It was almost transparent and she was clearly nude under it. It was just short enough to expose her navel and the bottom of her ‘six pack’ abs.

“Oh, hello Aileen. I didn’t hear you come in,” said Naomi.

“What are you doing here?” Aileen said.

“I’m staying in the guest room for a while,” said Naomi. “You know there’s a contract out on me by the Aryans, and I’ve been advised to not go home.”

“Well, you can’t stay here!” said Aileen.

“Why not?” I said.
“Because we’re lovers, asshole,” Aileen said. “We have a relationship!”

“No we don’t,” I said. “We’ve had sex a couple of times, but we’ve never talked about a relationship. I didn’t know you’d read more into it.”

“I better go to my room,” said Naomi.

“You better go away!” said Aileen.

“Aileen, please be reasonable,” I said. “Naomi and I are not lovers, we have never slept together, and I’m just helping a member of N3 in time of need.”

Aileen wasn’t mollified by this information. She turned on her heel and walked out.

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 20)

April 29, 2015 Leave a comment

I stayed in my apartment office most of the day after Naomi Cheslow asked to stay at my place. Of course, it was a tight moment for me, to say the least. Naomi is more than six feet tall – an amazon – and simply gorgeous. It was a bit annoying to me that this one person has stunning good looks, exemplary physical condition, legs so long I almost thought they were as tall as my overall height; and she’s very wealthy. I must remember too that she’s very smart. She has a pHd in biology. She’s written two books on the subject that are ‘must reads’ in universities.

I admit that it wasn’t easy to write my article with Naomi in the apartment. She was thoughtful enough to not interrupt me, but still, she intruded into my thoughts. I wondered if I could please her in making love. I wondered if the above average size of her made a difference when the man is just average at best.

I could hear her going around the apartment cleaning or checking things out, I don’t know which. She found the central vacuum cleaner thing and began to do the thick, mint green wall-to-wall carpet that ran through most of the rooms. I thought perhaps, after a few weeks of sharing the space, I might admit my lust for her and see what her reaction is. If she encourages me, I’ll slip into her bed one night. If she rejects me, I’ll find a way to do my writing and illustrations without her presence intruding into my mind.

The second day of her tenure, Naomi did enter my office. She was absolutely silent, walking softly in her bare feet on the supple, dark forest green carpet in my office. Silently, she put a tray on the credenza behind me. The tray included a carafe of fresh, black coffee and a plate carrying a bagel with cream cheese. She had obviously noted that I take coffee black with no sugar. I heard the buzzer from the doorman and went to respond.

“Delivery for you, sir,” he said.

“Oh, that’s for me,” Naomi said.

“Please send it up,” I said.

“I did as you suggested,” she said. “I just ordered some new stuff on line, and some of it is being delivered now, I guess.”

I took the four bags at the door. Naomi had paid for everything on line. I took the stuff into her room for her. I went into my media room and watched the television news. Before long, Naomi came in to model one of her new outfits and ask my opinion. It was impossible to put up an appearance of nonchalance as she paraded around before me. She looked like a wet dream in a skin tight body suit of shimmering red spandex. She modelled the outfits one after the other. I had to tell her that each and every one was magnificent on her, because it was.

“You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever known,” I told her. She stopped for a moment, and then smiled broadly.

“Why, thank you kind sir,” she said. She went to her room and closed the door behind her. I felt like an ass for telling her she was stunning. I’m sure she hears it all the time. I’m sure she’s known she was a knockout since she was ten. At least now I knew that she felt no spark for me. Her response was mockingly polite.

Categories: seduction, sex, vigilante Tags: , ,

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 19)

April 27, 2015 Leave a comment

I didn’t sleep very well that night. I have to admit that knowing a splendid amazon was asleep in my guest room at the other end of the hall was the cause. As you can imagine, I suffered with fantasies of her coming down the hall to my room and crawling under the covers with me. Fantasies also of me going down the hall to her room and crawling under the covers with her. I didn’t like that scenario. I preferred the scenario when she comes to my bed. Anyway, neither thing happened and I finally fell asleep about four in the morning.

I woke up at almost nine to the pungent fragrance of bacon frying. I felt fried myself. I dragged myself into the bathroom and made myself presentable. It wasn’t easy. Anyway, I wasn’t about to seduce Naomi Cheslow. She was ‘way out of my reach. She’s rich and smart and beautiful and tall and strong. What would she want with me? On the other hand, she came to my apartment with delicatessen treats and spent the night here. And the fragrance of the very not-kosher bacon must be caused by Naomi. So now she’s making breakfast for me. It was as though a night of sex had just ended and my lover was making breakfast for me. I wish. I jumped into a jogging suit and went to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she said when she saw me. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw that you were a secular Jew like me when I saw some of the things you have in your kitchen. There’s nothing Jewish in the place except for the menorah.”

“I hope you were comfortable,” I said. I poured myself a mug of coffee from the pot she’d already made.

“Very comfortable,” she said. She stopped and looked up from the frying pan and straight into my eyes. “Seriously, I’m kind of frightened. Can I stay here for a while? I need to hide and I don’t want to be alone. I promise I won’t get in the way. I’ll stay in my room and…”

“You’re being ridiculous, Naomi. You’re very welcome to stay as long as you’re comfortable. Don’t hide in your room. Just enjoy the place. Order anything you need, on line. Personal things, clothes, things like that and have them delivered,” said I.

“I could have Aileen Schachter go by my place, pack up some stuff and bring it here,” she said.

“Bad idea,” I said. “If they’re watching your place and see Aileen go in and come out with stuff, they’ll follow her here.”

“You’re right, of course,” she said. “What would I do without you?” I believed she was schmoozing me. How could a powerhouse like her, need me?

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 18)

April 27, 2015 Leave a comment

I couldn’t resist the fragrance of the pastrami sandwiches that Naomi Cheslow had brought to my apartment. Before she was done taking the deli out of her tote bag, the table was covered with thick, juicy sandwiches, sour dill pickles, coleslaw and French fries. I didn’t believe she was there to ‘court’ me as she’d said, and I wanted to know what her true motivation was.

“There are several reasons why I’m here,” she said. “There are other places I could go right now, and I chose here because I want to know you better.”

“And your other reasons?” said I.

“I want you to stay in N3 for one thing.”

“Why am I not surprised? But why me?” I said. “I’m not a shoot-em-up kind of guy. I’m a sitting in a field with an easel and pallet kind of guy.”

“Because we need an intellectual,” she said. “The people we have now are great in the field, as witnessed when we blew the barn, but we need someone to record and disseminate our tragedies and our efforts.” This was a direction I never would have imagined. In truth, I thought it was a great idea, and I was eager to do it.

“Who would I answer to?” I said.

“Well… nobody, really,” she said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t object to Aileen and I proofreading and fact checking.”

“You’re sure of that, are you?” I said.

“Let’s move on to my final reason for being here, remembering that it was a choice I made from among several friends,” she said.

“I got that message,” I said. “What’s your final reason?”

“The Aryans have put a contract out on me – twenty-five thousand bucks for my head on a platter. My informant tells me that because I shot the tracer into the gas puddle, they’ve chosen me as their number one target. It seems it really pissed them off when I destroyed leader’s bike and singed the hair off a number of the boys. Although we destroyed their whole building and millions of dollars in its contents, the fact that I melted leader’s bike is heavier, to them. Are they assholes or are they not, I ask you?”

“So you want to hide out here?” I said

“Yes, please,” she said. It was a peculiar position in which I found myself. Naomi Cheslow was unique. She had an extremely beautiful face that was surrounded by coils of ebony black, smooth, shining hair. Her complexion was ruddy, with the healthy, outdoor look of a sailor. Her physique, what I could see of it, was toned to the point of having a flat belly, solid arms and firm breasts that shimmied when she moved.

“I’m a good cook,” she said, “and I’ll clean and do laundry and dishes and all that.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, “how long do you expect this visit to last?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll pay. I’m rich, you know. Ask anybody.” I had to admit that I was attracted to more than just her six-foot-two pillar of pulchritudinous perfection. Her flippant way of saying bold things like, ‘I’m rich you know. Ask anybody.’

I didn’t know if she was rich or not. Nor did I care.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she said, patting the sofa upon which she was sitting.

“No need,” I said. “I have a guest bedroom that you can have for a while.”

“Wonderful!” she said. “I could use a shower. May I?”

“Come down the hall, I’ll show you your room. You have your own full bathroom en suite. You’ll find towels in the cabinet and a robe on the back of the door. There is also soap, toothpaste and a new toothbrush in there.”

“My goodness,” she said. “Do you have a lot of unexpected overnight guests?”

“Usually, I expect them,” I said. “You, on the other hand, are totally unexpected. I’d offer you some of my pyjamas but I doubt you could get into them.”

“I don’t like to wear pajamas anyway,” she said “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Here’s your room. I hope you’re comfortable. I’ll see you in the morning,” I said.

“Where’s your room?” she said. I pointed to the door at the opposite end of the hall.

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 17)

April 24, 2015 Leave a comment

I told Aileen Schachter that I wanted to bow out of N3. Shooting people and blowing up buildings is not my thing. She understood and didn’t argue with me about it.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t see you again, does it?” she said, her eyes searching my face. In fact, I didn’t intend to stop seeing Aileen socially and I told her so. I like her and she’s a very good, uninhibited lover. She likes to explore sexual possibilities. I’m no monk, but she did know a thing or two that I had not previously tried. It’s always wonderful when something that’s great actually goes a step or two beyond average limits.

Relieved, I went home to my own apartment, showered and put on fresh clothes. I was feeling good. I felt free and unencumbered and just wanted to absorb this feeling. I realized for the first time how much real stress I was feeling with the N3 group. Of course I resent discrimination, especially against Jews because I come from a Jewish family. Even though I’m and atheist by choice, I can’t and wouldn’t want to deny my proud heritage.

I was settling in with a tight dooby and a new episode of ‘The First 48 Hours’ when the doorman rang me from downstairs.

“A miss Cheslow to see you,” he said. His voice conveyed how he felt about the gorgeous amazon he was watching as he spoke.

“Geeze,” I said. “Okay, Larry, please send her up.”

“Yes sir,” he said, “I sure will send her right up.”

I thought ‘what the hell does she want?’ I immediately thought of my answer: Aileen sent her to get me back into N3. Fuck that! I was done with that cowboy stuff even if the stunning Ms Naomi Cheslow asked me to. It’s not the life for me. I saw myself as more of a gentle artist, drawing, painting, writing and photography were my pursuits of choice. I decided that I wouldn’t do anything to prepare for her arrival. I’d just turn off the television and smoke my joint. She tapped lightly on the door.

I went to the door and paused for a moment to prepare myself for the sight of Naomi Cheslow. She is the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in person. She’s about six feet, two inches tall. Probably weighs about one hundred and forty pounds, spread out over the-six-foot two finely sculpted frame. I opened the door to find that my preparation didn’t help. Feelings of lust and vulnerability took over.

“Hello,” she said with a devastating smile. I admit that I was not comfortable facing a desirable woman who could easily physically overpower me.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” I lied.

“May I come in?” she said.

“Please do. Make yourself comfortable,” I said. “I wasn’t in the middle of anything.”

“Thank you,” she said. As I closed the door, I watched her, expecting to see her scan the place to see how I live. She didn’t, so I was surprised. She went straight to the sofa and made herself comfortable. She had a large tote bag over her shoulder. She placed it on the floor at her feet. “You must be hungry,” she said. “I can smell the fragrance of your appetite enhancer.” She fished a pastrami sandwich out of the bag, and a can of Vernor’s Ginger Ale. The fragrance of my favourite deli sandwich whetted my appetite.

“What’s this all about?” I said. I sat across from her in an easy chair. She took a sandwich and drink can out of the bag for herself and put it all on the low table between us.

“Can’t a girl court a fella?” she said and unwrapped the sandwiches.

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 16)

April 24, 2015 Leave a comment

Aileen Schachter fired three well-spaced shots into the air. On that signal, all the N3 agents that had been hidden all around the barn stepped out of hiding. Each person, male and female alike held at least one firearm. AK 47s, M14 SMUDs, M16A3 Battle Rifles were part of our arsenal. Some flashed bayonets; some had hand grenades dangling from their belts.

Aileen and Naomi stood up and stepped through the bush we’d hidden behind. I scrambled to my feet to do the same. I stood between them, looking down the hill at the bikers. I noticed again that Aileen was so much smaller than I am, and Naomi Cheslow was so much taller that I am. One of the bikers raised a pistol. Almost instantly an N3 marksman just a few meters from me fired and hit the biker in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground.

An N3 leader on the other side of the biker gang raised an electric megaphone.

“We were hoping we wouldn’t have to do that,” he said. “We’ll do whatever we have to do in our defense.” He was met by derogatory oaths and raised fists.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones,” the megaphone said, “but names will never hurt me.” The bikers’ tirade slowly subsided and the speaker began again. “As you can see, we have come prepared to end your violence. We have the option at this moment of annihilating all of you and just walking away, or just walking away without annihilating you. You look like such a bunch of fucked up morons, I’d think you’d prefer annihilation. If you want to live, you will live without harassing or touching anyone, Jew, black, or any kind of immigrant. If you fuck with us again, N3 will do what we’re itching to do right now.”

“You’re as good as dead, motherfucker,” their leader shouted. A marksman close to the megaphone guy fired once. The bullet pierced the teardrop fuel tank on the leader’s Harley-Davidson chopper. The tank was airbrush painted with a flaming swastika on it. I wondered why it didn’t explode. Fuel spilled out onto the ground. Suddenly, Naomi raised a 45 calibre Colt automatic that I hadn’t seen before. She squeezed off a single shot. It was a tracer bullet that left a line of sparks straight to the puddle of gasoline that was soaking into the sand.

The spilled fuel burst into flame and licked up the side of the motorcycle. The resulting explosion sent bikers scrambling in every direction. Most rushed to their motorcycles and struggled to start them and move them away from the towering flames. When the flames had subsided and the riders had moved their machines and dismounted again, they looked up to see us. To their surprise, we were all gone. They waded into the debris that had been their barn full of vehicles and equipment. They moved as if they were in a funeral procession. The gang leader had some of his hair singed off. His Harley was ashes. We went home hoping the Aryans got the N3 message.