the phone, thinking that only two things he has in control are his project and his secretaries in the elevator. He was uncomfortable with his own jealousy. Helpless jealousy for this bitch. That someone is most probably fucking her, and certainly not in an elevator, but on a bed, and that she is probably looking extremely hot in her underwear, which he so wanted to rip off. Gazing at her picture, Marco had only to contemplate how she might be with a German, or fuck knows with whom. Well, he is not worse than him. Maybe send her some gift or flowers. Although, no, what flowers after such attacks? I’ll come back from my business trip and give her a call, go over and rape her in her corridor, spreading the bitch’s legs out on the wall, and fuck her so hard that she will groan loud enough for her neighbors to hear her.” On this positive note, Marco slid into his convertible and drove to the airport.
While this was happening, someone else somewhere was frantically searching for some quality intimacy on the same notorious site. Just the name of this person could easily send shivers of excitement down the spines of, say, a quarter, or maybe half, of the female population. The gentleman, finding no other ways by which to amuse himself, and being one who always find it extremely difficult to get acquainted with random women on the street, as he always had to move around flanked by security to prevent his fans from tearing to pieces his frail body, which had taken all kinds of women in all countries and brothels of the world to bed and which was filled with all kinds of vices, alcohol and drugs. He was simply excited after discovering a new loophole. His happiness was overshadowed only by the fact that he was forced to put up the ugliest-ever photo of an old man on the site, so that no one could recognize him. Nevertheless, thanks to this ingenuity, he had the obvious advantage of being able to get acquainted with people from all over the world. Of course, very few people would want to reply to such an old grandpa, but then, there were the more amorous people, and when he dragged one of them to come chat on skype using unique amoral and seductive technique, he sensed no more repulsion. On learning that one of the most coveted men in the world had all along been hiding behind the old man’s photograph, the ladies would squeal with delight and bring out all their lady bits into play. This was better than any reality show. Moreover, once having taken advantage of some girl’s outright benevolence, it would then be easy to remove her from his contacts. This is the convenience that Skype brings, which all the other types of communication do not, or at best struggle to.
When he eventually stumbled on some photo of a woman in a hat and a bikini, he immediately send her a heart smiley, then some cute face, followed by something else. He then proceed to write and explain that the photo on his profile was fake. He explained that he would rather they spoke on Skype face-to-face and urgently.
Christy looked blankly at the smiley, at the heart, then back at the photo of the pathetic old man who had written and tried to explain that it was not him on the photo. Then she rose and headed out for a sunbath, completely throwing all this nonsense out of her head. “These pathetic old psychos are throwing themselves at me. How about I throw a punch on their faces?”, – Christy thought, then plunged herself into the book that she had brought with her to the beach. She was wearing a golden swimsuit that she had bought abroad. There, it looked natural, but here in Russia, it was obviously over-the-top, and she was glad that it had faded slightly in the sun and that she was lying out of sight. That way, nobody would dare bother a girl who was deeply in her book. After reading for some time, Christy decided to close her eyes and relax a bit, pampering her silken skin in the sun. When she woke up, it was already evening. Her head was aching. Apparently, the sun was still quite hot. She got to her apartment in a daze, turned on the music and found another smiley face and Skype invitation from that man with a weird photo. After having spent so much time in the sun that day, Christy felt dizzy. She just was not herself. Without really realizing what she was doing, she wrote something to the stranger on Skype. A minute later, the man, who reminded her of someone she had often seen on TV, started calling her. She had never been a fan of this celebrity, and she was generally always amused when all the girls were always instantaneously infatuated with stars. She had even hated his face. She thought he looked like a little rat. Precisely why she had never watched any of the films he acted in. Christy simply dropped the Skype call, slammed her laptop down, and got up to make herself a cool and soothing cocktail. After refreshing herself a little, her head cleared up a bit. She came over to her laptop again, flipped it open, and surprise! A bunch of messages from this star with a rat’s face was littering her Inbox. Again! Replying him, she explained that she was at the moment treating herself to a cocktail, and that he could join her if he wanted. In fact, she did not mind who he was, or what sort of person he would turn out to be. Anyone who so wished could come join her right now. Whether it be a movie star with a rat’s face, an Italian playboy, or just a stranger. All she wanted was to chat and spend some quality time.
The man, who turned out to be Robert the celebrity, was at Christy’s disposal. He told her funny stories, made her laugh, showered her with compliments. The rat, after all, had turned out to be a very interesting gentleman. It was no accident that a good half of humanity would go crazy over him. There was something about this working class hero who miraculously climbed the ladder to fame and made it in life. Something besides sex. After all, how many of these supermodels are masculine, or supermen, so to speak. And this one actually had a very ordinary figure, and perhaps looked even a bit mediocre. But his brains were clearly far from being mediocre. And where had he learnt this art of seduction, this showering with compliments, the skill of which he flawlessly demonstrated like a pro? Even Christy, who herself had become accustomed to all sizes and shapes of men admiring her, could not help but enjoy what this seducer was offering her. They chatted about the weather, sex, her gold panties and bra that they both wanted to get rid of urgently, telling each other both decent and indecent jokes, which they considered interesting, sweet, and naughty. They were like old friends and lovers. At the same time, there was a certain novelty, curiosity and everything related to this that filled the air. They wanted to enjoy the intimacy and sex as much as they could, and this they did, bathing themselves in the very last drop of pleasure that two people who meet in the mysterious virtual world could possibly squeeze out of each other. Although Christy had never tried getting close to anyone she met online before, Robert proved to be so in-tune, so elegant and so tempting that he was impossible to resist. They lay side by side, or almost next to each other, separated by the ocean, different fates, their previous lovers and many other such facts of life. Nevertheless, they tried to enjoy the moments as much as they could, fascinated by each other. Robert was surprised to discover that he had not only satisfied his masculine curiosity, but that this girl meant something more to him than just an easy acquaintance from some website. There was something in her that he could not clearly figure out. Something both light and deep at the same time. Sweet and bitter. Tender and hard, hot and cold. She was far from being one of his many millions of shallow-hearted and myopic fans. She was someone he genuinely liked. Gosh! How much he had long forgotten about this feeling – that he can be liked for his smart mind, education and charm. He had been used to being adored and wanted simply because he was a star. But this time around, he was pleasantly surprised. Maybe not all was lost, even for such an experienced Olympian god as him. Someone might even fall in love with him. After all, he was a generally intriguing and good man.
At that time, however, Christy was chatting with a young Frenchman twenty-eight years of age. He was delightfully handsome, shy and sexy and as innocent as a French man his age could be. Although he was engaged in some modest engineering work, his dark hair, traditional gentlemanly appearance and ideal model-like figure immediately sent Christy into a mood that was both romantic and business-like. She asked him when he was going to visit her city. Ralph, the Frenchman, had not expected such a quick developments of events. And although he had been told many times before that he was attractive, he had often taken it as a joke, because he was not sure of his sexual experience. The relationship he had maintained for several years with a girlfriend who had been as sexually inexperienced as he was, together with a couple of mundane meetings with his age mates, did not arouse anything new in him. He thus judged himself modestly enough, and was
