Living with Katrina Ch. 03

Chapter 3 now. Vote, comment and let me know how you liked it.

Thanks to estragon for copy edits, KatieTay for content edits and my beta readers SamanthaYvonne and the very special damppanties.

"Long ago it must be

I have a photograph

Preserve your memories

They're all that's left you"

- Bookends, Simon & Garfunkel

* *

An eight-hour work day was enough to make Jake drop dead from exhaustion. He could barely find the energy to get back to his apartment and collapse on his bed. A sixteen-hour work day felt like a violation of the prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.

Two weeks of sixteen-hour workdays, and Jake felt like he had been a working guest at a Stalinist gulag. Out of pity, Emma gave him the last shift off, letting him return home for some much needed rest. He fell asleep on the subway, asking the passenger beside him to wake him up at his stop.

It took all his remaining strength to crawl to his building. Sleep weighed heavily on his droopy eyes and there were visible bags underneath. Paying his half of the rent had never taken so much out of him.

The door was strangely unlocked. Curious, he entered. His sleepy eyes opened wide as he surveyed the living room. There were candles on every conceivable surface, lit in a surreal display of fiery illumination. The electric lights themselves were switched off.

He took a step forward and his foot caught on something. He bent down and picked up a dress. It seemed to have been thrown hastily on the floor. His eyes found the bottom half of the dress strewn a few feet to the right. Following the fabric trail farther, he found some female undergarments bunched up close together, a few feet from the bedroom door. Katrina's door.

Jake walked past the trail, not sure what to expect. Against his better judgement, his hand turned the doorknob. He had barely opened the door, when he felt his eyes burning themselves out of his skull.

On the bed lay his dear roommate, without a stitch of clothing on her body. Glittery ribbons had been draped around her torso, waist and thighs. Her arms were also wrapped and placed behind her back. She lay face down on the bed, like an elaborate Christmas present.

There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as her head turned towards the door. It rapidly changed to shock and horror as she saw Jake's wide-eyed stare.

"I'm so sorry. I should have knocked," he mumbled, incoherently before hastily turning around and rushing out the way he came. In doing so, he snagged his foot on the carpet and tripped. His right arm came out to break his fall. Pain roared through his forearm. He had not broken any bones, but his wrist was sprained.

"Jake! Are you all right?" she cried out, rushing to his side.

"I'll be fine. Just need some ice," he groaned, grimacing through the obvious pain. "Oh God. Please put something on."

"Let's get you to your room first," Katrina said, lifting him off the floor.

She helped him to his room. His knee was scraped from the fall, so he limped along gingerly.

"How was your day?" she said innocently, hoping he would not ask her about her ribbon dressing pose.

"Tiring," he said, leaning on her naked body for support. He felt her full, round breast against his chest and quickly backed off.

"God!" Kat exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "They're just tits. It's okay to be in contact with one."

He collapsed on his bed, his body utterly unwilling to move an inch.

"What's with the gift dress?"

"Oh it's nothing," she waved off, "I was giving myself as a present to someone. Think of it as roleplay."

He groaned inwardly. New relationship, new problems, a new disaster looming. Katrina Bauer never had an uncomplicated boyfriend.

"Do I want to know?" he said, kicking off his shoes, wincing with the pain in his knee, earnestly looking away from the naked present beside his bed.

"Remember that critic who gave me a trashy review for my last opening? The professor of Modern Art at Hofstra University?" said Katrina, pulling off his socks. "I was pissed, so I went to tell him what I thought of his review. Apparently my art 'lacks vision and imagination' and it resembled the 'finger painting of a three year old'. I went to his office yesterday."

"Oh that guy," said Jake, vaguely remembering the newspaper review. "Dean Hamilton. Wait a second! Did you...?"

Katrina grinned with a mixture of guilt and victory in her eyes.

"Twice in his office yesterday afternoon and once at his place last night."

"Isn't he like seventy?" he said, unable to hide the amazement in his voice.

"Only sixty five," she shot back with a glare for good measure, "That doesn't matter. Age is only a number. He is a brilliant person and he knows so much about Impressionism and Modern Art. And if I say so myself, he is so good in the sack. So tender, so giving."

Her reminiscing had her aroused to the point that her nipples stood out of her chest like hard points. There was also a dampness between her legs.

"It's okay, I can do without details!" he yelled. "How does he even get it up?"

"With little blue pills, of course," she said triumphantly, "But the pills don't give him his gifted tongue. That is absolutely my favourite part of his anatomy."

"I think I know way too much about Dr. Hamilton now," he sighed, his eyes clamped shut. "But why call him back here?"

"I didn't know you were coming back after only one shift tonight. I was expecting Dean. I'm so sorry I startled you."

"It's okay. I'll get out of your hair. Now, can you please go back to your room so I can open my eyes and not see nudity?"

Katrina hurried out. Jake kept his eyes closed for a few more minutes. His roommate was going through a worse-than-usual string of boyfriends at the moment. Few others knew her the way he did, and the signs did not bode well at all.

His mind was way too tired to dwell on that. He surrendered himself to a deep and dreamless sleep in his office clothes.

* *

After the mishap with Jake, Katrina returned to her gift-wrapped position on her bed. For one fleeting moment, she had a vision of Jake coming and removing her ribbons, slowly, with that caring smile on his face.

Shrugging off her silly fantasy, she waited expectantly. At last she heard the welcome opening of the doorknob. Soft footfalls echoed and gradually got closer. Her skin was tingling with excitement as her door was pushed open.

The tall form of Dean Hamilton stood in the doorway. Despite his advanced years, he was in remarkably good shape. He carried himself with dignified poise and regal elegance. There were creases and wrinkles along his cheek, accompanying tufts of silver hair along his earline. His eyes sparkled with an inner fire that burned strong even at this age.

"Hello Katrina," he said in his deep baritone. "I see you have a present for me."

She responded by rolling over on her front, giggling coquettishly. Her ample breasts came into view, partially covered by a flimsy ribbon. Her eyes looked up at his face.

"Won't you unwrap your present now?" she said, raising a coy finger to her lips, looking at him with a gaze of earnest expectation.

"I'd be delighted to!" exclaimed Dr Hamilton, "Or as they say in France Il serait pour moi un privilège."

"Je t'aime," she smiled, "Every part of you."

He leaned in and kissed her. His experienced tongue lapped at her mouth, drawing her tongue out and entangling it in a passionate duel. She locked her lips against his and drew him into a torrid kiss, frothing the saliva in his mouth with her dexterous tongue.

Katrina put her hands around his neck, pulling him over until he was on top of her. Their kiss remained intact as she explored the inner regions of his mouth with a hungry intensity. One of her hands reached down into the waistband of his trousers and fondled his cock. It seemed to resist her efforts.

"I am not as young as I once was, my dear," he said, smiling at her through a few wrinkles. "Yesterday was the most strenuous day I have seen in many years, and the most satisfying as well."

She began undoing his buttons. One of his hands reached behind her back to cup her ass. She moaned gently as his hands grabbed both her cheeks and mashed them against each other. His index finger made a long caress down the length of her crack, teasing her hole on the way.

"Mmmm... your finger feels so good."

Dr Hamilton smiled and slowly dragged his finger back up, this time pausing at her hole for a more thorough inspection. His fingertip barely went past her sphincter, when she moaned loudly into his ear.

"Oooh... a little more please. I love being penetrated back there."

"Soon enough, Katrina. Soon enough you will feel more than my fingers at your backdoor."

"I look forward to it," she said, pushing her tongue into his mouth again. "Have you had your pill?"

"Yes. But you have to remember my age. Give it some time."

Katrina turned him over so he lay face up. Her tongue started at the top of his chest and zigzagged its way down past his silvery pelt of chest hair, until it was level with his mass of pubic hair. His semi-hard rod drooped outward.

She stabbed at the middle of it with her tongue, causing a tremor. She smiled and repeated her action, causing a more pronounced shudder from his organ. Holding it up, she swallowed the entirety of it in her mouth.

Dr Hamilton's eyes went wide as he felt her tongue caress his organ and slurp all around it. He held her head, letting her golden tresses slide through his fingers. She bobbed up and down, gradually bringing his member to full hardness.

Detaching her face from his erection, she took a moment to admire her handiwork. It was erect and of a decent size as well. Her long tongue sneaked out and she jabbed at his crown with the tip.

"Turn over, my dear."

Taking her cue, Kat swung her leg over his recumbent form until her delicious pussy hovered on his face. He stuck his tongue out, inserting it deep into her sopping wet flesh, causing her to moan. Her eyes clamped shut as she lost herself in the abyss of pleasure.

They continued in their 69. Both of them felt a simultaneous stirring. The two trains of ecstasy hurtled towards each other. Closer and closer they came, willing each other to a tremendous climax and then finally....

In a stupendous moment of mutual climax, the riptide of orgasm tore through their bodies at once. Dr Hamilton shot his sperm deep into her throat while she gushed all over his tongue. Too spent to move, they lay in their 69 position, sweating against each other.

"Round two?" said Katrina, hope in her gasping tone.

"Give it some time."

* *

Jake slept soundly for the first time in ages. Two weeks of deferred sleep caught up to him. The next day was Sunday, and he fully intended to get up at noon. His sore muscles ached for somnolent indulgence.

Those plans were hastily thrown out the window. A high pitched shriek in the middle of the night disturbed his slumber. His heavy eyes narrowed in exhausted despair. Hurricane Katrina was brewing in the distance.

It took all his strength to drag himself out of bed. In the distance, he heard the familiar symphony of bipolar rage exploding against the walls. Shaking off his sleep, he staggered past the kitchenette into her room. He needed to get there before she hurt herself.

"Can you fucking believe what he did?" came the enraged voice.

"What?" replied Jake, frankly too tired to care.

"He screamed out his dead wife's name when he was up my ass. Like I was a surrogate for her. The bastard!!"

The sleep temporarily went away. He rubbed his eyes to alertness as his mind processed the latest bit of information. Dr Hamilton had fallen short of Katrina's expectations.

"Here," he said, opening his arms for her.

Still muttering under her breath, she walked into his hug and held him tightly.

"He seemed so good. Despite his age, he was so sexy," she sobbed, "And that was all I was to him, an image of his dead wife. That was all he saw in me."

Jake caressed her hair softly. His fingers took their time on her scalp, pressing gently. Her sobs shook her body, each one causing her idea of love to break apart some more.

"Why can't anybody love me for just ... me?" she choked through the tears. "Am I that unworthy of love? I need to be someone else to be loved."

"Don't ever say that about yourself. Katrina Bauer is a wonderful person, whether any one else sees it or not."

"You're right," she said, releasing a fresh wave of tears, "No one else sees it but you."

The storm had passed. She was stable again. Melancholia swept through her body, robbing her of her usual mirth and rendering her tone listless. Jake had seen this depth of despondency before and it never got easier seeing it.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" she said, softly. "I don't want to cry myself to sleep."

"Of course you can."

He held her tightly, leading the way to his bed.

"Wait," said Jake, stopping midway to his room. "When you said 'sleep with me', did you mean...?"

"No, dumbass. I mean I'm tired and need you to cuddle me while I sleep," she groaned.

* *

Katrina stood in her studio, pondering over her next piece. Her heart was set on an orchard scene, something simple, yet elegant. She drew a bit, then discarded it, not liking her initial vision of the orchard. The next few attempts met a similar fate. She was on her fifth version of a cherry tree when she heard the knock.

She went to the door, puzzled at how Jake returned so soon with the groceries. The haggard figure of Dr Hamilton greeted her in the hallway. His red eyes showed his tormented, sleepless night. She glared him down.

"What are you back for?" she said in a voice that could have frosted glass.

"I want to say...."

"Save it!" and the door slammed shut in his face.

She stormed back to her easel, ignoring the persistent knocking on her door. Blocking out the sound, she started her sixth version of the recalcitrant cherry tree. Gradually, the knocking grew fainter and eventually stopped altogether.

Jake was walking up the stairs when he saw a defeated old man, slouching on his way down. Not giving it a second thought, he walked up to his door and knocked.

"Oh you're back," smiled Kat, "You'll never guess who decided to show up and left just now."

"Oh I'm sure I can guess," he said, putting his groceries on the table. "What did he say?"

"I don't know and quite frankly, I don't care," she retorted.

"Still," pressed on Jake, unwisely. "Would it hurt to hear him out?"

"You know what?" said Kat angrily. "I don't need relationship advice from you. Mind your own fucking business! I'm going to Central Park to get my head straight and actually paint something worth selling."

The door slammed loudly on her way out. He sank into his recliner and sighed loudly. He needed something to cheer him up and rest those tired muscles. Almost providentially, his Blackberry started beeping. He checked the message.

Emma Byrne: Wanna meet up for lunch and some hot sex at my place? Hint- Lunch is optional ;)

In line with the bizarre direction his life had taken over the past few weeks, a booty call from his supervisor did not seem out of place. He tried texting back, but gave up after a few typos too many. Instead he called her up and affirmed his intention.

He would be getting his cheer, just no rest for his tired muscles.

* *

It took Katrina the better part of an hour to find a suitable spot. It overlooked a grove of birch and cherry trees and gave a perfectly undulating green landscape. The idyllic hillock was made to create great art.

She took a moment to see the surroundings in her mind's eye. It was perfectly calm - the lush grass, the trees gently swaying to the breeze and the menagerie of birds chirping their hearts out. Her landscape would take the viewer to the place she had created in her mind.

On the seventh attempt, the cherry tree came out correctly. The trunk was slender and the leaves spread out, shadowing the shrubbery. The tint of red from the sun filtered through the mass of leaves. Satisfied with one tree, she started on drawing a small squirrel beside it. The outline of his face was done, when she felt a palm on her shoulder.

She lashed out involuntarily, narrowly missing Dr Hamilton's face. Turning around, it took all her self-control not to stab him with the paintbrush in her hand. He immediately moved a few steps back, holding his arms out defensively.

"You followed me here?!" she said, unable to hide the seething anger in her voice.

"Just give me five minutes to talk. Five minutes, that's all I ask."

"You don't get to make requests for my time any more," she said, rage boiling under her skin. "First you trash my opening, then you fuck me over in memory of your wife. Haven't you done enough?"

She paused to catch her breath. Her eyes flashed death rays at the elderly figure in front of her. Her tone was quivering with anger as she continued.

"You should go now. Go before my bipolarity makes me do something you will regret."

"Two minutes then," he pleaded earnestly.

"You get one minute. Start talking."

"Thanks," said Dr Hamilton. "I want you to know how much I regret what happened between us last night. I wish I could turn back time and keep my big mouth shut for once. I hurt you and for that I am truly ashamed."

Kat looked at him with a look of bored derision as he went on.

"When you walked in through my office doors, it was like forty years ago. You reminded me of my wife. Gloria, God bless her soul, was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was my angel, my dream and my heart in one beautiful package. Our love was something I miss every waking moment of my life."

He paused to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Your image stirred feelings inside me that I thought had died when Gloria died decades ago. I am so sorry. I had to feel loved once more. You were my Gloria, my love."

Kat turned her head to obliquely stare at him. She tried to figure out what his next words were.

"I want you to have this," he said, pushing a paper bag into her hands. Inside it was a felt covered box. Curiously, she opened it to see a glittering silver necklace. It was adorned with a single topaz in the centre, which radiated shards of golden light in every direction. She could not contain a gasp of amazement.

"I gave this to Gloria on our first anniversary. She loved wearing it and looked even more beautiful in it, if that was possible. I'm sure it would have the same effect on you."

Katrina was still speechless. Her mind was in overdrive, trying to sort out the trains of thought coming from every direction.

"Once more, I want to say how deeply sorry I am. I wish you the very best. My minute is up now."

Dr Hamilton turned to leave. He had barely gone a few paces when he heard a soft voice.

"You must have really loved her," said Katrina, letting her fingers run over the expensive topaz.

"She was my one and only. Always will be."

"Was she beautiful?" she asked, putting the box back in the paper bag.

"Much more than mere words can say."

"Did you go out with her often?"

Even as he puzzled over the last question, Katrina walked up to him and asked in her sultriest voice, "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Dr Hamilton stepped back, his mind reeling from the last statement. It took him a full minute to fully register what she asked. His mouth was gaping and his eyes were wide with amazement. She stood, anticipating an answer.

"I would love to," he said, still in utter disbelief.

"Where should we go?"

"Forlini's. It's my favourite," came the reply.

"Ah. One of the classic Manhattan restaurants. Let's go to Forlini's tomorrow night, shall we?"