From Erotic Refugees
The first thing Rob did after he got fired was to take a very long lunch break and pay a visit to Kajsa. When he came on her stomach with a heart-clenching “ungn!” he collapsed onto the bed beside her, feeling, for just a moment, totally fine. It didn’t take long, however, for his mind to pull its post-coital fingers out of its ears and start reminding him about the three dreary but inescapable facts of the moment.
Fact one was that he was out of work in a country that wasn’t his own. Fact two was that he had neither the education, experience nor inclination to locate a replacement job any time soon.
And fact number three was that he was in bed with a girl he was acutely embarrassed to be seen with.
Kajsa lay still with her broad back facing him. He knew she wasn’t asleep, she just liked to lie there for a minute in the after-glow, breathing slowly and giving the occasional shiver. “Bra jobbat,” she muttered in her native Swedish, and reached back to pat his naked thigh.
“Yeah, well, good job yerself,” Rob said, already beginning to feel the guilt stirring. The thing was, he wasn’t together with Kajsa, and he didn’t want to be. He just popped over occasionally for a bit of the other, an agreement that seemed to suit the both of them just fine. But he suspected she might want more than that. She never really indicated it, but he just assumed that she did. Women generally did want more, didn’t they? Like husbands and houses and kids and all?
Then there was the other thing, the thing that was the major problem with Kajsa. She was a rather large girl. Not large enough to merit a spread in a specialist magazine, but large enough that Rob didn’t want to be seen with her in public. And definitely not in front of his friends, who’d go on about it forever and start calling him “Big Mamma” or “Rodeo Rob” or something equally witty and cutting.
Kajsa was kind and smart and funny, but Rob didn’t want to put her (or more importantly, himself) in that position. Any other position involving the two of them was, however, fine by him. As long as the positioning took place on her sofa, or across the kitchen table, or on the rug with the net curtains firmly drawn.
“So you are fired? You are sure?”
“Damn right I’m sure,” Rob said. “Old Hans called me in and gave me the good news himself. They kept bloody Erik, even though I’m miles better than him. But of course he was hired like one whole week before me—”
“Last in, first out,” Kajsa said. She gave a mighty stretch before she rolled over on her back and smiled. “You signed up for this country, you know the rules.”
A few strands of brown hair were sweat-glued to the left side of her face. Rob resisted the temptation to reach out and pluck them free. That would be far too relationshippy, and he didn’t want to venture anywhere in that direction.
“But you’ll get another job, right?”
Rob sat up in the bed and grabbed a couple of pillows. Kajsa watched with amusement as he twisted and punched them into the correct shape before sinking into them. “I don’t want another bloody job. I’m tired of bein’ a code-monkey, doin’ meaningless crap for other people. I was tellin’ Brian—”
“Brian the Australian?”
“Yeah, I went round his café for a cappuccino as soon as they told me. Didn’t think he’d make me pay for it, since I’m on the dole now, But he did, the tight bastard.”
“And you told him what?”
“That there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there? I’ll have to dream up some idea and start my own Internet company. Make a fortune, then retire and never do a proper day’s work again.” He clasped his hands behind his head. “And Brian bet me I couldn’t.”
“How much money did he bet you?”
“It wasn’t money, it was a sandwich.”
This caused Kajsa to sit up. She was naked and spotted with sweat and crispy patches of semen, but she didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“Did you say a sandwich? What kind of bet is that?”
“He’s got this board on the wall. Ye know, that big menu with all the sandwiches. Named after musicians like Sagan and Dirac and Dyson and all.”
Kajsa gave an amused look but said nothing.
“And he’ll let me design my own sandwich and put it up there if I win. I can just see it now—the Maher, a sandwich masterpiece! And I’ll pull it off too, no problem. I mean, I’ve got one more month to work, and then six months with extra unemployment pay from the union. So that’s a whole seven months with a steady income. More than enough time to get some idea off the ground.”
Kajsa looked sweetly unconvinced. “And if you lose?”
“Well I don’t plan to lose, do I? But if I do, I’ll have to work in his café for a whole weekend. Probably wearing a dress or something, knowin’ Brian.”
Kajsa nodded. “A dress would probably suit you Rob. I’m getting some water, you want some?”
“Tea would be deadly.”
“I’m sure it would, but I don’t have any of your strange Irish tea. And you won’t drink the tea that I have.”
“That stuff’s not tea,” Rob said as Kajsa swung her legs out of the bed and padded to the kitchen. “Tea doesn’t have fruit and flowers and all that mystery crap in it. Tea’s made from black leaves, and only black leaves. Anything else is a crime against nature.”
“Mmm,” she said as she returned to the bed holding two glasses of water. She put one down and Rob took the other with a nod and sipped at it. He glanced at her as she adjusted the sheets. For a big lady, her breasts were very shapely. And her thighs were firm and gripping. And then there was her…
Rob swallowed his water with a gulp and tried not to stare, since that could lead to unexpected consequences, and then even more guilt.
She swung onto the bed again and turned to him. Her brown-eyed gaze was level and there was a coy smile on her lips. “And what kind of sandwich will it be?”
“Umm,” Rob said, unable to look away from those eyes. “Oh the sandwich, right. I’m thinking tuna, and mayo, and these little green balls. You know the ones.”
She shifted closer to him. “You mean capers?”
“Sure, millions of those little bastards. Every café needs a tuna and mayo and caper combo, don’t they?”
She nodded as she reached for her glass and took a slow sip. She returned it to the bedside table and then, in the same flowing movement, shifted her hand to Rob’s stomach where she began to trace out a lazy circle with the tips of her fingers.
“So you will need to develop a successful Internet idea in … how long was it again?”
Rob swallowed. “Before the unemployment insurance runs out. End of the year, pretty much.”
“Well then you’ll just have to get to work. I’m sure you have lots of ideas.” She leaned closer and bit his ear. “It can’t be that hard, can it?”
“Hard?” Rob said helplessly. “No, no, it’s not hard at all…”
Those delicious circles on his belly shifted downwards and began to decrease in diameter. Soon they were barely circles any more and her hand came to a halt. She gave a sound of happy surprise when she found something there and eased her fingers around her discovery. Rob gave a groan and tensed his whole body in helpless anticipation.
Her voice was a harsh whisper. “Not in a hurry Rob?”
“Fuck no,” he said as he shifted closer to her, giving her enthusiastic fingers more to play with. “Not goin’ anywhere near that office today. It’ll be a nightmare, with the cryin’ and the worry and then someone will try and hug me, I just fuckin’ know it. Oh crap, yeah, just like that…”
Kajsa got to her knees, her fingers not loosening their grip. She swung her right leg over Rob and straddled his thighs. Rob wasn’t sure he could have moved even if he’d wanted to. He moved his hands behind her and shifted her hungrily forward. She was more than happy to comply.
Her hair hung in Rob’s face as she moved him about, trying to direct him into just the right position. When she found it she hovered there for a moment, making the tiniest of excruciating movements, before sinking down onto him with a hard grunt of satisfaction. Rob closed his eyes and sucked in a chestful of sour indoor air. He pushed a hand around the back of her head and gripped her hair. She grinned at that and arched her neck back before starting to move with a rhythm that matched his hammering heart.
Guilt be damned, Rob wasn’t missing this for anything. As his logical mind began to reach for its cigarettes and put its feet up for a while, he realised there really weren’t any problems. All he had to do was look at it the right way.
This thing with Kajsa was just fucking, pure and simple, and he was probably imagining that she wanted more. And sure, he was unemployed, but he was determined to get this project off the ground—for the sandwich, if nothing else. Yeah, everything would get sorted out, no worries.
With his free hand he shifted Kajsa slightly and then started to set the pace himself. Her breath came fast, interspersed with small urgent sounds, and he squeezed her hair harder. She pushed a thumb into his mouth and moaned as he bit on it. Rob sighed and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow he’d start working on his new life. He had, after all, eight months to play with, and eight months of tomorrows should be enough for anybody.