Nordic Blue

David gripped the steering wheel tightly, focused on his keeping the car on the narrow country road. After counting to three under his breath, he opened his mouth. “Nina, honey, are you sure this is the right way?”

“Yes,” she said, and David could still hear the peevishness in her tone.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, she spoke up, this time her voice was more relaxed. “Davey, I’m telling you this long drive is totally worth it. Pekka’s mansion is huge and there’s a big ol’ swimming pool and about a million rooms and I’m sure they’re going to fire up the grill. You’ll love it.”

David nodded, not wanting to say what he really felt. Instead, he tried to find a neutral topic. “I know you told me, sweetie, but I forgot where you said Pekka is from. That’s quite a foreign name.”

Nina was lighting a cigarette and let out a little laugh as she blew out. “Yeah, it’s been so many years that I’ve known her that I forgot how strange her name must sound when you first hear it. Back in the dorms we used to call her Peek-a. Anyway, she’s from Norway. Her dad’s in the oil business. That’s how their family got all that money.”

David nodded, gritting his teeth as the inside of his car filled with the acrid smoke from Nina’s cigarette. He’d always hated smoking and never thought he’d date a girl who smoked.

But a year ago when she’d walked into his accounting firm to fill in for one of the girls on maternity leave, he’d simply been blown away. David glanced over at her, once again struck by just how beautiful her long brunette hair was, the shape of her face, and god, those sparkling green eyes, which seemed to positively dance when she was in a good mood.

David could see that she was beginning to relax, the cigarette’s foul magic taking effect. “Wow, you know,” said Nina sitting up straight in her seat, “this is the third year all the girls have gotten together like this at Pekka’s mansion. We were all so close, like sisters at university, and we swore we’d never lose sight of each other. Then Pekka had the brilliant idea of inviting us up to the mansion every summer. Last year was…” She paused, blowing out a stream of smoke before letting out a small chuckle, “Well every year it’s been a ton of fun. And I’m sure this year will be too!”

David favored her with a small smile. Inside, he wasn’t sure at all. He knew Nina had been kind of a wild party girl during her college days and he could only imagine what kind of dickens she and her gal pals had gotten up to while living it up in some rich bitch’s mansion.

Still, though, Nina’s youthfulness and vigor were partly why he’d been so attracted to her, finally gathering his courage to ask her out at the company Christmas party. “So who all is going to be there?” he asked as casually as he could.

“Well let’s see,” said Nina, rolling down the window and casually tossing her cigarette out the window. “Of course, Pekka will be there. I think a couple of her cousins might swing by too. It’s a big family. But I’m not sure if her sister Ryla will be there. She’s kind of the black sheep of the family.”

“Is that so?” said David, slightly intrigued.

“Yeah, she’s kind of the wild child in their family,” said Nina, a frown on her face. “She’s kind of a… loose woman, if you get my drift and there’s been stories of her indiscretions and… uh, other things.”

“Well if you’re rich enough, I imagine you can get out of just about any kind of trouble,” said David.

“Oh David,” said Nina, irritated. “There’s no need to be so judgmental. Rich people are just like everybody else deep down inside. Anyway, the last I heard Ryla was in rehab but that was a few months ago. Other than that, I know for sure Brittany will be there. Pekka told me last night that she’s bringing Bill, her fiancé. I’ve heard so much about him. He’s a plastic surgeon, you know.”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t know,” said David, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Well you never listen to me,” retorted Nina. “Anyway, Bill and Brittany are for sure coming. And Michela’s already arrived. I heard her in the background when I was talking to Pekka.”

“And Michela is Norwegian too?” said David.

“No, she’s Italian,” continued Nina. “She transferred to our university in my last year but my god, that girl is crazy. She’s soooo fun. That girl can dance all night, let me tell you.”

David waited for her to continue but when he glanced over it was clear Nina was lost in her thoughts, evidently remembering some of the ka-razy things that wild Michela had been up to during their college days.

“Oh,” said Nina, returning to the conversation, “Jenny can’t make it. She’s at some realtor’s convention in Chicago. Martha is pregnant, as you know.”

David nodded, having no earthly idea who Martha was. Nina always tended to ramble on and on about her friends and he never could quite keep them all straight.

“And then there’s the twins, Lucy and Diamond, and they’re somewhere in Africa on another one of their wild treks. So yeah,” said Nina, “I think it’s just gonna be me, Brittany, Michela, and then Pekka and her family. Don’t worry, Davey honey, you’re gonna have fun!”

David nearly flinched when she slapped him on his thigh. He hated when she called him Davey but he knew she only did it when she was in a good mood or wanted to cuddle. “So,” he said, “is it uncouth of me to ask or does anyone in Pekka’s family work?”

“God, David!” said Nina, exasperated. “Can’t you control your jealousy for once? Jesus! Pekka is an artist. And before you open your mouth and say one word about it, I’ll have you know she’s exhibited some of her paintings at some very prestigious galleries in New York. She’s very talented. Having a secure financial foundation is just a blessing because it gives her time to work on her art.”

David nodded, saying nothing. He thought back to his own university days and there sure as heck hadn’t been much time for partying. He’d worked two part-time jobs just to cover his books and fees and every night he’d dropped into his bed exhausted.

Must be nice to be a rich bitch artist, he thought to himself. You dab a few strokes of paint on a canvas, call it art, show it to some pretentious New Yorkers and the whole world kisses your ass. But he knew not to say what he was thinking.

“Oh, here it is!” cried Nina, “take the next left where you see that gap in the trees.”

David slowed down and turned left where Nina had pointed. A few hundred yards later they pulled up in front of a massive black wrought-iron gate. There was a small metal box on a post to his left and David rolled down his window and pressed an illuminated button.

A moment later the speaker crackled. “Yes?” said a female voice with a slightly foreign accent.

“Pekka!” sang out Nina from her seat, “Open up, girl. It’s us!”

“Nina?” came the reply from the box.

“Yes, Pekka!” shouted Nina, “It’s Nina and Davey! We’re heeee-eeere!”

A moment later a switch activated and the massive iron gates swung open noiselessly on their hinges. When they were completely open, David rolled up his window and drove forward. He found himself on a well-paved asphalt road, long stands of trees lining either side, their branches meeting overhead to form a canopy. As his vehicle proceeded down the road, he goggled, realizing that he couldn’t even see the end of the drive.

“And this is all their property?” he asked, the amazement clear in his voice.

“Yep!” chirped Nina. “Looks like something out of a Jane Austen book or something, doesn’t it?”

David could only nod. Good Christ these people must be rich. He looked down at the speedometer and realized he’d been driving for a full five minutes and still the end of the drive wasn’t in sight.

To their left and right was an enormous lawn, elegantly manicured, the occasional fountain and garden visible. It must take an army of landscapers to take care of this place, he thought to himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the mansion itself hove into view. It was an enormous building with a large central structure several stories high with two adjoining wings. As a mental accounting exercise, David tried to count the number of windows and gave up after reaching fifty.

Finally, the road came to an end as they approached a large circular driveway. A few cars were parked haphazardly around the driveway. David noted glumly that they were all expensive luxury cars, some flaming red Italian sports cars and the rest heavy black German sedans, all of them worth more than his apartment. David nosed his car to an open spot and came to a stop.

“Yay, we’re here!” said Nina, bounding out of the car.

David exited more slowly, being careful to lock the doors. He’d worked hard to buy his car and had maintained it well but compared to these other vehicles his car looked like an old jalopy. Sighing, he stuffed his keys in his pocket and looked up to see a group of people pouring out of the massive front door of the mansion.

Squealing with delight, Nina began hugging and kissing her friends. David trudged up to the front door, only raising his head to look at his wife’s friends when he had placed his foot on the first step.

“David, honey!” cried Nina breathlessly, “Come here and let me introduce you to the girls. First, this is Pekka, our gracious host.”

A blonde woman, very athletic and fit, raised out one hand in greeting. “Hello, David, so nice to finally meet you,” she said, giving him a weak handshake.

She was a very attractive woman, David noted, the royal blue of her simple but elegant dress perfectly matching the lighter arctic blue of her eyes. A classic Nordic beauty.

“And this here is Brittany,” said Nina. David saw she was more of a standard American, bigger and thicker than Pekka, but with a healthy vitality to her.

Unlike Pekka, Brittany was dressed for poolside, wearing a black bikini top and a denim jeans skirt with sandals. “Nice ta meet ya,” said Brittany with a Texas drawl.

“Nice to meet you too,” said David, getting a hearty handshake from the big girl. He couldn’t help notice that she had large, bounteous breasts that strained at the weak confines of her bikini top.

“And this is Michela,” said Nina, turning to point at the last girl.

David’s eyes widened at the sight of her. Michela had jet-black, straight hair that nicely framed her tanned, well-shaped face. She wore a pair of large gold hoop earrings that winked in the sun. But whereas Brittany was dressed for poolside, Michela was almost naked, wearing only a microscopically short skirt made out of some kind of gauzy neon orange fabric.

Even her feet were bare, her toenails painted the same shade of neon orange as her skirt. David nearly choked, trying not to show his amazement, and held out his hand.

Instead of shaking his hand, Michela leaned in and quickly gave him a peck on each cheek in the European style. He could feel the heat from her toned, lithe body and it took all of his willpower not to stare at her as she stepped back. Good god, was this how all European girls were? Her breasts were tiny, almost non-existent, but she was a perfectly formed petite young woman, all of her qualities on ample display.

“Uh, nice to meet you too,” said David, his voice cracking.

“Come on, you guys!” cried Pekka. “Let’s get inside.”

The girls all turned towards the house and began filing indoors. David began following them inside when Nina turned to him, an unreadable expression on her face. “Davey honey,” she said in a singsong voice, “Why don’t you bring in the luggage, dear? That way we don’t have to worry about it later.”

David nodded and turned back towards the car. You’d think someone as rich as this would have some kind of butler or something, he groused to himself. He took out his keys, popped the trunk, and began unloading the many heavy suitcases they’d brought.

Of course, most of the luggage was Nina’s but then again his dad had taught him that women always packed too much stuff. That’s because they never had to carry it, he thought to himself sourly.

He had to set the suitcases down to pull open the enormous front door of the mansion. The damn thing looked to be ten feet high and he wondered where in the world you could even order a door that big.

Feeling like a pack mule, he carried the five heavy bags into the foyer and set them down on the plush pile of some exotic rug. None of the girls were in sight and so he had a moment to take in his surroundings.

Overhead a gigantic chandelier shone down on the entrance hall, which had to be three stories high at least. To his left was a grand staircase, carpeted in a deep red with a gold-colored balustrade. To his right and left he caught glimpses of large rooms with ornate overstuffed furniture. And ahead, past the staircase, he could see a long hallway with several closed doors on either side.

A moment later one of the doors opened and Pekka came flying out, a slice of pizza in her hand. “Oh you poor man,” she said. “I bet Nina is to blame for this, yes? Always packing too many things is our girl, Nina,” she said in her odd but fetching accent.

“Yeah,” said David, watching in fascination as the athletic and fit Scandinavian girl greedily gobbled down the slice.

“Nina likes to stay in my atelier,” said Pekka, using the fancy word for her artist’s workshop. “She says it brings good energy. I have made up a bed for you two to enjoy.”

“Uh, okay,” said David.

“This is big house,” continued Pekka, her blue eyes staring at him intently. “Go up stairs, take hallway to left. It is third door on right. You can no miss it,” she said.

David, realizing she wasn’t going to call any kind of servants to assist him, reluctantly hoisted up the heavy suitcases off the floor and began to trudge up the staircase.

The inner accountant in him counted 57 steps before he came to the top of the landing. It almost looked like some kind of hotel, he thought to himself, two long hallways going in each direction. All the closed doors looked identical, painted white with a gold-colored handle.

Readjusting his grip on the suitcases, David took the left-hand hallway and counted off three doors. He pushed down on the old-fashioned handle and let himself into the room.

The space was simply enormous, about ten feet deep and incredibly long. Two giant bay windows on the far wall were letting a flood of light into the room and he begrudgingly acknowledged that it certainly seemed like a good place for an art studio. Even though both windows were thrown open, there was still a rich stink of paint and other smells that made David wrinkle his nose with displeasure.

In front of him was a sparse but adequate bed, clearly a late addition to the room, along with a simple wooden dresser and two nightstands. On one of the nightstands was an old-fashioned black telephone, something David hadn’t seen in years.

All along the near wall were hung various paintings, most of them meaningless blobs of color and shapes, probably Pekka’s “masterpieces”. David shuffled towards the bed and let the suitcases fall on the wooden floor with a heavy thump. The far end of the room was blocked off by some kind of beige curtain strung on a track from the ceiling so he had no idea just how large the space really was.

Freed of his burden, David stepped forward and looked out the closest window. The back side of the mansion’s view was simply breathtaking, long rolling lawns of emerald green stretching towards the horizon.

Closer to the house, he could just see the lip of the swimming pool, the brilliant blue waters sending flashes of hot sunlight directly into his eyes. He could just hear the faint sounds of laughter and realized that the girls must be out there by the pool.

Just as he stepped back from the window he heard a sound that appeared to be coming from somewhere on the other side of the curtain. It sounded something like a moan or a person panting but it had come and gone so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. David paused, frozen, his head cocked to one side but the sound didn’t repeat itself so he relaxed and went over to the bed.

David’s shirt was sticky and wet from the effort of hauling in the luggage so he figured now was a good time to change into his swim trunks. His suitcase, far smaller and lighter than any of Nina’s, was well-organized and so it only took him a moment to find his shorts and beach towel.

Quickly and efficiently he stripped out of his clothes, neatly rolling his socks into a ball, folding his shirt and trousers into a neat rectangle, his shoes aligned on the floor at the corner of the bed.

Feeling silly, but knowing it was the appropriate thing to do, he shuffled his bare feet into a pair of cheap flip-flops. Now dressed only in his swim trunks, he took his towel and threw it over his shoulder, feeling like he was dressed for the part of a relaxed husband who was here to have a good time at some stupid rich bitch’s mansion.

Just as his hand was on the door handle, about to head downstairs to find his wife, David heard the sound again. It was clearly coming from the other side of the curtain. He let go of the door handle and, as graciously as he could in his hideous flip-flops, he cautiously made his way over closer to the curtain.

This time, the sound was unmistakably a person moaning and it sounded like a man. What the heck?

David got close enough to the curtain that he could reach out and touch it but he stopped, not sure what to do. The moaning continued until he heard the man give out a single sharp cry. Clearly, there was someone back there on the other side of the curtain. But David wasn’t sure what to do. Should he draw back the curtain and see if someone was hurt? Or should he announce himself? He didn’t know what to do.

David was just about to cough loudly and speak up when the curtain was rapidly thrust back. A young man with tousled black hair, dressed only in a pair of cutoff jean shorts, suddenly burst out from behind the curtain and raced past David, evidently not seeing him. David turned to call out to the man but before he could say anything the man had bounded out of the door and into the hallway.

The curtain was now open about a third of the way and David decided to indulge his curiosity and see what was back there. He stepped forward cautiously, the rich smell of turpentine and solvents much stronger back here.

This was obviously Pekka’s studio as the space was crowded with easels, the canvases on them in various stages of completion. It all looked like meaningless garbage to him though, splotches of color and shapes that might be fruit.

As David’s eye traveled over the artist’s workshop he suddenly let out a gasp. In the far corner of the studio was a battered divan, the faded red color marred by splashes of paint. Stretched out on the divan was a completely nude woman, languidly smoking a cigarette from an old-fashioned holder.

David’s eyes widened as he took in her extremely long hair that lay casually draped over her full breasts and ended just short of a shockingly thick patch of dark pubic hair.

The woman chuckled at seeing David’s reaction. He looked at her pale, creamy skin, her eyes a cold blue that gave her body its only color. “My goodness, you are a fine specimen,” she said, speaking in flawless English but with a faint tinge of an accent. He couldn’t be sure but David was willing to bet he was now meeting the infamous Ryla.

“Uh, excuse me,” said David, stepping back and turning away from the nude woman.

“Nonsense,” said the woman, her voice low and hypnotic and David couldn’t help but turn back to face her. The woman casually set down her cigarette holder on a crowded table next to the divan and spoke once more. “I thought I was going to be left unsatisfied, but I think you will do just fine,” she said in her smoky, low voice.

As though hypnotized, David’s feet remained nailed to the floor. The nude woman unfolded her legs and rose to her feet, slinking across the scarred wooden floor towards him. “Come now,” she purred, “do not be shy. Let’s see what we have here.”

As she approached him, David felt his heart race. What should he do? Maybe she was hopped up on drugs. But no, as he looked at her, he saw that her eyes were clear with a cold blue fire.

Her breasts were not large but they were well-formed and symmetrical, marred only by a few discolorations that seemed to be translucent but wet-looking as if she had spilled a few drops of a drink on herself. A moment later his fevered mind realized exactly what that substance was, the rapidly coagulating sperm of the young man who had fled the room a few minutes earlier.

The woman scanned him up and down, taking in his plaid swim trunks and cheap plastic flip-flops. But what she saw evidently pleased her for he saw a small, tight smile creep onto her face.

She was scaring him with her bold nudity and yet there was a heat coming off of her, the warm yeasty smell of her pussy rising up in the air to overpower the stink of turpentine and paints in the workshop.

The woman got close enough to touch him but David remained rooted to the spot, afraid to even speak. With a quick, sharp movement of her hands, she suddenly reached forward and pulled down his trunks in a single motion. Against his better judgment, David realized that his penis was engorged, bobbing slightly after being freed from the confines of his shorts.

The woman’s grin widened and she sank to her knees. With a quick, practiced motion she seized his penis with one hand and plunged it into her mouth. The hot, wet orifice flooded David with a wave of pleasure and he heard himself let out a groan. His beach towel slipped from his grasp and fell noiselessly to the floor.