WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT. IF IT'S NOT FOR YOU, DON'T READ IT, PLEASE. KIND REGARDS / ME & I
She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor where their suites were. Sweaty, but satisfied. In the VIP section of the sports complex at the hotel, she had been working her ass off. Now she'd take a shower and after that she'd go to see Benny. She would lay beside him, cuddle. She loved the warmth and affection. She was becoming old, without passion, but she did love Benny. Maybe even more than before? No, that wasn't the case. It was different now. They were older and experienced life differently. Less black and white? Maybe. Less of a turn-on anyway... God, how sex-minded they used to be. She chuckled and then heard the bell of the elevator. She got out, greeted the security guard, and walked through the shared room. One of Björns sweaters was lying on the antique table. Further on, the door to the laundry room was open. She walked over to it, saw that Agnetha's sneakers were drying on the washing machine, and closed the room. Then she went on to her suite. They didn't use keys anymore. The first few nights she had put the key in some sort of secret place so that Benny could enter, but she had quickly changed her mind about that. Although she had to admit that Thomas could not have gotten in if they had done everything by the rules. On the other hand, Thomas was just as sly as could be and he would have gotten in anyway, according to Minsting. In the hall of her suite, she stretched and then she opened the door to the living room. Her eyes grew three times bigger. It was almost completely dark - except for a few dimmed lights - and countless tea lights on the coffee table. A heart made of lit candles.
Soft piano music in the background.
Benny sat on the couch and looked at her. "Hi honey, did you have a good workout?"
"Um, yeah, but what's this? Oh my God," she stammered incoherently.
He stood up and walked over to her.
"I need to shower," she said, before he touched her.
"No, you're taking a bath, I've decided," he said, placing his hand on her neck.
He let his lips brush over hers and gently pushed her toward the bathroom. Again, she couldn't believe her eyes. There were candles everywhere and the bathtub was full. It smelled wonderful.
"To what do I owe this?" she asked, automatically taking his hand.
"I thought it was so sad how things ended yesterday," he said a little uncomfortably. "I'm sorry!"
She let go of his hand and stroked his beard for a moment. "Honey, there was nothing you could do about it! I would have done the same thing. There could have been something wrong with Ludde and we've already discussed it!"
"I know that, but I just wanted to spoil you rotten and let you know that I love you, because I do," he replied.
Almighty, she melted à la minute. How sweet he was! "I love you too and I'd love to hold you, but I'm really, really sweaty..." she said.
He pulled her into his arms. "I've had you sweaty and sticky in my arms so many times before. Do you really think that could stop me?"
Um...
He was right; sweating and fighting for a climax in some idiotic position that wasn't even in the Kama Sutra, but which they had found out and which absolutely led to the desired result...
"Well, okay," she said chuckling, "but I'm warning you, I am sticky."
"Delicious! And then that tight sports outfit. You're driving me wild, Lyngstad!"
She burst out laughing, allowed herself to be convinced, and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Benny, it looks very romantic!"
"Yes, I do have it in me!"
"New spirit has arrived."
"Exactly," he said, releasing her and grabbing the hem of the T-shirt of her sports outfit. "May I?"
She nodded and raised her arms. He pulled off her shirt and turned around her so he could unhook her bra. For a moment it was a strange idea that they were apparently at that point again.
"What a fantastic body you have," he said, putting his hands on her hips and his nose on her neck.
"Thank you," she replied, "but it's a little dirty right now. Can I please take a shower first?"
"No, you can't, because you're taking a bath," he muttered.
He chuckled and let go of her. For a moment, she didn't know if she should continue to undress now. The day before, there had only been one spot of her body left that he had not yet seen naked. Suddenly, she felt somewhat being watched, which was odd, of course, since they had been extremely close to going the whole way. She figured she shouldn't whine and took off her sports shorts, but at that moment Benny walked out of the bathroom. Nice. She could quickly take off her underpants and dive into the bathtub and pretend it was all normal. As she sat in the lovely warm water and relaxed, she heard Benny return. She looked up. He put a stool beside the tub and walked into the living room once more. With a tray in his hands, he returned.
"What have you got there?"
"Fruit," he said.
She got up and looked. There were all kinds of things. Mango, strawberries, blueberries, pears. All the things she loved. He sat down on the stool next to her and pricked a strawberry on the fork that was on the tray.
"Mmm," she said, tasting it. "Oh, my, how delicious!"
"Thank God, for that price," he said. "I would have been better off buying you a Porsche. Costs the same, lasts longer."
She burst out laughing and grabbed a few berries with her fingers. "Oh, fantastic! And I already have a car, so I'm really happy about this!"
"Good, then I guessed right."
"Where did you get this?" she asked. "It's really great!"
"I put that guy to work, that CEO who is ogling you."
"Henry?"
"Is that his name?" he asked, with a grimace. "I forgot."
She giggled again. "You do know! You just don't like him."
"Indeed," he said, feeding her a piece of mango. "He undresses you with his eyes! Sucker!"
"You just undressed me with your hands! Do you think that's okay, then?"
He raised his eyebrows. "As far as I know, I asked politely if I could. Besides, I've known you a long time. That's a big difference."
"Oh, so when Björn asks it, it's polite too?"
"Yes, certainly. Only then the answer will be 'no', but that doesn't mean it wasn't decent. That Henry is just drooling after you. 'Can I help you, miss Frida?'" he mimicked him in an upper-class British accent.
She grabbed a piece of mango and laughed at his imitation. She held the mango in front of his mouth and he took a bite.
"Well well, so they do make these fruits in such a way that they are edible! Wonderful."
Grinning, she shook her head. He had such a dry sense of humor and he was so down to earth. She couldn't remember ever seeing him act arrogantly. Never did he pretend to be better than he was. He saw himself as a normal guy who happened to make a lot of money because he was good at making music and was lucky enough to have met three people who complemented him perfectly. No fuss. Looking back at her time with Ruzzo, she saw the contrast. Although she had also been happy with Ruzzo, sometimes it had been a bit over the top. Occasionally they would organize dinners and it would all have to be done by protocol. The first few times her mouth had dropped open in surprise. What nonsense! But he was used to it and so were the people who came over. Over the years it had become a habit, but the dinners had never really become her hobby. She moved effortlessly among his friends and family and was respected, but did she really feel at home? With Ruzzo, certainly, but they did come from different worlds. He had no idea what it was like to have nothing. Nothing at all. To see a grandmother working up a sweat for you until late at night because you had to eat and needed clothes. Ruzzo and she had argued about it once. A mate of his had made a comment about 'paupers' and she had raised her eyebrows.
"I was such a pauper once."
"Well, then you're probably glad you outgrew that?"
"What do you mean 'outgrew that'? I just happened to make a lot of money with the talent I have, but I didn't become a different or better person because of that."
"Ruzzo would never have fallen for you if you still were a 'pauper' you know."
"What do you know about that?"
That evening, she had thrown the question at Ruzzo, and his answer had become the beginning of a considerable fight. "I would never have met you if you had been poor. I don't know such people."
Somehow she had found that so narrow-minded that they had been arguing until deep into the night. "What a fucking snobby remark!"
"Why? I don't have anything against those people, do I? I just never meet them."
"You're with me!"
"Are you poor now, then? I met you after that, didn't I?"
"How convenient, huh? Imagine if you'd had to tell your 'friends' that I had no money!"
Und so weiter.
His entire weight on her Achilles heel. Her grandmother... fighting for her existence. That woman had worked herself to death and people were condescending about poverty!
Spoiled brats!
She had argued with Benny too, often, but always about something small and this thing between Ruzzo and her, she thought was a culture clash. It had taken her a while before she could give herself to him again. With Benny, she usually got it on after a fight. First they were ranting at each other to yell off the tension. There was a winner and a loser and soon after that they'd build up new tension. Equal again. They did have a very special relationship, she thought.
"Hey, are you still alive?" he asked. "What are you thinking about?"
"To be honest, I was thinking about our bickering after which we usually had sex again right away," she replied. "How did we do that?"
He chuckled and offered her a piece of pear. "Easy does it," he said. "We'd get excited!"
"Yeah, duh," she said with her mouth full, "but I was wondering how we could get back to that point so quickly."
"It was just what we always wanted, those fights were only an interruption. After that, we got back to our normal."
She laughed loudly. "Oh, dude, how weird and down to earth you are at the same time."
"Is that a compliment or not?"
"Yes, because I love you."
"Good news," he said, holding the fork in front of her mouth on which was a piece of mango.
She took a bite and sank down a little so that she was under water up to her chin. The thick layer of foam made sure she couldn't even see the end of the tub. When she had swallowed the mango, she opened her mouth for another piece which he fed her, grinning. Followed by a few strawberries.
"You look like one of those little birds," he said. "In a nest."
"I am a bird," she said, with her mouth full of strawberry.
"Yes, a great tit."
"Why a great tit?" she asked, laughing.
"Well, because they are sweet and small, very delicate and I think they make a lovely sound!"
"Naw," she said. "Thank you."
She opened her mouth again, but he shook his head. "You've ingested half a kilo of fruit, Lyngstad. It's done now."
"Shit."
"Yes, sorry, you've been eating like an animal. Like an ostrich. Not subtle at all, actually. Forget about the great tit."
She burst out with laughter.
"But don't worry, I have other things for you when you get out of the bath."
"What?"
"You'll see."
"But I don't want to get out of the bath yet. Can't you just say what you have left for me to..."
"Nope. I'll see you around!"
He got up, took the empty tray and disappeared from the bathroom. She looked around. All the candles. The delicious fruit. The warm water. Wonderful. It was really idiotically romantic and she loved it. She wondered what else he had in store. For a moment she lay still, enjoying herself, but then decided to wash her hair and see what else had been organized by him. She dried herself off and hung up the towel. Suddenly, on the sink, she saw a bathrobe that was not hers. "Benny?"
"Yes?"
"What is this thing?"
She stood looking at it as if it were from outer space and at the same time she didn't really understand why she asked the question. It was a bathrobe, it was white, it was probably for her because it didn't fit him and they weren't expecting any other guests as far as she knew. She heard him walk toward the bathroom and suddenly realized she was completely naked, with no underpants - as had been the case the night before - and no foam on the water. The towel rack was three steps away and he only one.
"What is it?" he asked as he entered and immediately scanned her from head to toe.
An admiring, almost hungry look. For a moment she could only stare at him. It was obvious what he wanted and she was flattered and she wanted it too. Right? Yesterday she suddenly wanted it like crazy. Surely that feeling was still there somewhere?
"I um, what is this thing, here, this one?"
"Oh, that? That's my newest synthesizer. One that loves water. Really one of a kind."
She burst out laughing.
"Yes, um, Friddle... This was not your most intelligent question of the past few days, sorry!" he said, picking up the robe and unfolding it. "But put it on, it's yours."
He held it and when she had both arms in the sleeves, he moved behind her. He wrapped it around her and held her in his arms like that. "Hey, sweetie." She looked back and met his mouth above her shoulder. One kiss, two kisses, three. She turned around. The robe fell open, she tried to close it, because she was naked and she didn't know how to stand against him like that. How was she supposed to do that? His hands on her bottom, their tongues gliding. How to stand?
"Come," he said, between kisses. He grabbed the strap of her bathrobe and pulled her along. That he couldn't take his eyes off her, was obvious. Together they walked on to the bedroom. For a moment she hesitated. What were they going to do? Did she want to go there?
Candles again. Two letters. B F. Oh, how cute! He had done so much for her.
"Naw, Benny," she said, tying down the robe and leaning toward him.
He grabbed the ends of the bow she had made and pulled. Now it was open again. Meanwhile, he pointed to a massage table.
"Huh, where did you get that from, what have you done?"
"Hush, I just arranged a couple of things," he said, taking her hand in his. He pulled her along and lifted her by her hips onto the table.
In the past, she would have immediately spread her legs and welcomed him passionately, but what was she to do now? Why didn't it come naturally to her? Why didn't she feel anything? Except for discomfort. Okay, discomfort and love. That too. She truly loved him and he had tried so hard... But where was her fucking passion? She swallowed and her heart pounded in her throat. Suddenly the feeling that she was about to cry. She wanted him, but she didn't want him.
"Sweetheart?"
"Yes?" she squeaked.
He raised his eyebrows. She cleared her throat.
"I mean 'yes'," she said in a normal tone. "I'm not Agge, hahaha."
An attempt to make it more lighthearted. He was still looking at her with a frown on his forehead. She let her leg wobble, she noticed. She took a deep breath and then held her leg still.
"Come lie down, honey," he said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. He gently pushed her back, but she turned around so that she was lying on her stomach. She felt far too vulnerable.
"Are you gonna lie on your stomach?"
"Wasn't that the whole point?" she asked quizzically.
"It's fine," he said. "It's up to you."
When she was lying down, he took off the bathrobe. Discomforted again, but after a while she was lying comfortably. She felt him put a towel over her bottom. That didn't help, but it helped nonetheless. It was warm in the room and she heard the piano music in the background. Suddenly she felt a warm liquid on her back.
"Don't be scared, it's just oil," he said.
He put his hands on her back and she felt him spreading the oil. His palms over her skin, caressing and stroking. She exhaled. This wasn't dangerous. This was just delicious. His hands kneaded gently. The muscles in her neck were cheering and admonishing her, "You have neglected us, Anni-Frid, but you expect us to keep doing our job!"
His thumbs rubbed the knots out of her steel cables. "A bit stressed out, Fridan?"
She nodded.
Yes, I'm afraid I don't dare to have sex anymore and I don't dare say that now, because I've said it before and he's so sweet and maybe he thinks it's over, that fear. But it's not. It comes back every time and it gives me a lot of stress. I love Benny very much, you know and so I want to want him, you understand? It's fucking complicated. And that's why all my muscles are so tense at the moment. Good story, isn't it?
Carefully he ran his fingers over her cervical vertebrae. He kneaded them just right. Really just right. Geez, how delicious!
"Mmm," escaped her.
Shit. As long as he didn't read something into that...
"Nice, sweetie?"
She nodded. "Yes, really."
A little more relaxed. Fine. She let him be. But after a while, she suddenly felt it was lousy for him. She didn't know how long she had laid like that, but she was starting to feel awkward. Soon they were spending four hours on some kind of foreplay for a game that wasn't going to be played. She crawled up. The towel fell on the floor and Benny looked surprised. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," she said, glancing at the towel somewhat furtively.
He followed her gaze, reached for it and handed it to her. Her tits still uncovered, of course. Jesus Christ, how prudish she'd become! Knock it off, Frida! Come on, woman!
"Are you cold?"
"Yes," she lied.
"Wait a minute," he said.
He walked over to the bed and picked up a bag that was next to it. He pulled out some lace fabric. Peach color. The color that went best with her skin, they had once agreed on. Especially if she was slightly tanned and she always tried her best to be exactly that. He handed her a lace tunic and matching panties. It was beautiful, but did she have to put it on? He wanted her naked, didn't he? Well, whatever. The more she had on, the better. She was never, ever, ever going to cross that one line again. Tomorrow she would talk to him and tell him that she was terribly sorry, but that they were just not going to continue this thing. I'm not breaking up with you, because you have to stay with me, but we're never going to have sex. It makes me nervous and I can't do it anymore. Now, let's be honest, we've fucked enough in our lives, haha, but I understand if you're sad about it. Me too, but it's just the way it is. Shall we start collecting stamps together?
She put her arms through the sleeves as he held it up for her and, after some wiggling, she allowed herself to be helped into the panties. Fair enough, it was her style. It fit perfectly and she felt sexy in it. He looked at her. Fire in his eyes. She gulped, suddenly realizing that she wasn't startled. Why wasn't she startled?
Because you want him, Frida. Because you want him!
Through her eyelashes she looked up at him. In a rush she put her arms around his neck and her mouth against his. Suddenly longing. For him. That escalated quickly! What was this about? What was she about? He pulled her toward him. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her hands were sweaty. "Oooh."
What the hell do you mean 'oooh'! A nanosecond ago you were panicking!
His hands on her back. Restless. Her fingers in his hair. He pulled her to him again and she suddenly felt how hard he was. Before she knew it, a kind of beast awoke in her. A roaring lioness, pushed to the ground by her companion, with his teeth in her neck. Where did it all come from? Who the hell was she? She suddenly reached for the hem of his T-shirt. It had to come off. She threw it on the floor. She jumped off the massage table and let her fingers fumble with buttons and zippers. Off those jeans. Socks off. His hands grabbed the lacy thing. Off.
"Fuck, I want you," she heard herself utter, to her shame.
His fingers fidgeted with the panties he had just put on her himself. Her hands flew to his boxers. They could go no further. Their arms were in the way and they burst out laughing. He took advantage of the moment to pull her against him. His fingers slid down her back. His hairy chest against her breasts.
Oh, Benny, please.
She raised her head to him. He understood the reason. Lips on hers. But she didn't have time for that. Straight on for the real thing. Writhing and wrestling tongues. She breathed into his mouth, blowing warm air.
"Oh, Frida."
Exactly! To everyone else I'm "Frida," to you I'm "Oh, Frida"! Go on now. I'm hot, I'm fired up, don't shut me down.
Her hands searched for him. God Almighty, how ready this man was! She pushed him toward the bed. They plopped down, rolled over each other, crawled toward each other. Give me those boxers. He evidently didn't know where to start. His lips and fingertips were everywhere at once. Neck, breasts, breasts, breasts - oh, please, continue - mouth, belly, belly, belly - lower, Benny, lower - breasts, neck. She was still in those panties she had wanted to wear because she was cold. Stupid. She wriggled out of them and pulled Benny over her. What were they going to do now? How did they do it before? They never went for the real thing at once, they always fumbled and fiddled first, but she really didn't have time for that now. Her hand sought him. She would make sure they became one. First she wanted to feel again how he felt. Gently sliding, squeezing, kneading. Hard as a fucking rock.
"Oh, Frida, Jesus!"
Yes, she knew exactly what she was doing. She attacked him with her hands. Fast, slowly, hard, softly. She knew the way! When was he going to bite her in her neck?
"Just a moment, Frida, just a moment," he panted in her ear.
"What!" she asked.
He rolled off her. "Just fucking wait. I'm exploding. Stop it."
She chuckled.
"Not funny."
"Yes, it is. It's very funny! You're 55! What do you mean 'I'm exploding'?"
"Shut it, little temptress! You made me wait twelve thousand years, so can I have a minute?"
She laughed loudly, but felt Benny's hand on her belly. With a pendulum motion, he stroked down. His fingers explored. She waited. Eyes closed. He fondled, searched. Feeling, trying. Whaaaaaa! Shit!
"There?"
"Yeeeees," she said far too long and far too hoarsely.
"Nice! Are you exploding?"
"No, not y... oh please!"
"Not yet, you said?"
"Shut it!"
"Shut it yourself. You're 56, Frida. What do you mean 'explode'? I've hardly done anything yet."
Ooooh, really. Those dexterous fingers of his! TMWTMF. Her nickname for him in their heyday. The Man With The Magic Fingers. They teased her now, but would taunt her until she would arch her back, push her hips against his hand, and almost scream at him to! continue! Would he dare now what he had always dared? Could you ask someone for the same things after all these years? Could she indicate it in a way other than with words? And how was he doing, really?She opened her eyes and looked straight into his grin. "Still going well on this, huh?"
She couldn't suppress a chuckle. "What are you going to do?"
"Anything you want."
"Also what you used to do?"
He looked at her, a look so endearing and longing at the same time that she couldn't process it in her brain.
"What did I do then?" he whispered, caressing her with his fingers, trying gently if he could go further. It probably wasn't going to be a very difficult task... She was so unbelievably exci...
"Oh, there, please!"
He laughed out loud, but did what he had to do. Oh God, this was going way too fast. She could almost count the seconds. Hips against his hands. Already. Frida, stop it, woman! Weeks of whining that she couldn't do it anymore, didn't want to do it anymore, didn't even know how to get in the mood anymore... Yeah, right! She went crazy! But she wanted to do something for him as well and let her hands search for him.
"Back off," he said, when she had him in her hand. "You first. You can come a hundred times anyway."
"I haven't been able to do that for years, I'm older now, I can't do... ooooh! Oh, Benny! Oh, Jesus Christ, go on, go on, go on. Don't stop, now. I'm gonna... aaaaah!"
That was one!
Goodness! Stars everywhere. Everything pulsated. Everything was white. Or pink. Or fucking rainbow. Whatever. She had to take a break. His fingers with which he had caressed her, slid over her mouth. Like he always did. Made her ridiculously horny. He must have remembered that. She hated him so much that she loved him. In one easy movement he came inside her. She was drenched. Completely. He picked up a rhythm and she lay unconscious. He built up the tension again. Tongue in her mouth, legs around his.
Bite my neck!
Possess me!
Take me!
He did. No mercy. They never had. They just did it. Now too. Almost at the top again. She had to tilt her pelvis. All the tricks came back. Her amazing body remembered it well! Oh shit, would she really? Again? She hadn't experienced that for years. Not during and not after Ruzzo.
"Oh, how hot you are!" he whispered in her ear.
A bizarre sound came out of her mouth. She was practically growling.
"What do you want?"
"Everything!"
"Are you still on the pill?" he said, laughing.
For a moment she giggled, just for a moment. Then she felt him again. How he filled and loved her. Everything fit perfectly, everything was right. She climbed, she climbed, she climbed. To the top. She jumped, fell, dove and flew. "Oh my God, stop, keep going! I... ooooooh." And there she went again. Magical.
"Good girl," he murmured. "That's the least! You sexy animal!"
"Aaaah," she panted.
"I know," he said sweetly, before snuggling up to her.
She felt him now and tightened her muscles around him. She knew exactly what he wanted. Under her hands, which were on his back, she felt him jerk. He fought and struggled. Repetition of moves. She would win him over in a second. She smiled as she felt him give himself to her.
"Oh, Frida," he groaned. "Oh, Frida, Frida, Fridaaa!"
"Mmm," she said, with a ridiculous smile on her face.
Her hands roamed over him. Oh, she did it! They did it! This was such a beautiful story! She waited quietly. That wonderful man in her arms! In her arms! After all these years. After all the objections, all the buts and ifs. But her heart had always known.
"Mmm, honey," she said, half in a trance. "I love you so much."
He straightened up, turned away from her and rolled to the edge of the bed. He picked up his T-shirt from the floor, rolled back, placed it between her legs and grabbed her. "Should you ever have any doubts, Anni-Frid Synni Lyngstad, I tell you now: there is no one, no one at all, as exciting and attractive as you!"
Okay, completely unexpected: one small hiccup as a warning sign, but then she couldn't stop it. She started to cry out loud. He flew up.
"Please tell me you're not sorry," he said, looking at her anxiously.
She shook her head, stuffed the shirt between her legs and rolled over.
"What's up sweetie? Are you okay? Please say something! Did I do something wrong?"
"No! No, you really didn't," she assured him, snuggling up to him.
"You're just relieved?"
She nodded.
"Got it," he said. "Come here. Hush, come here, sweetie."
Did she hear his voice skip? For a moment she bent backwards. She wiped her tears from her face and from her eyes. Otherwise she still saw nothing. He made the same gesture. She looked at him in surprise. "Are you crying?"
He cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm crying. I'm crying over you. Over how I missed you. I'm turning into an old loser. I'm sorry."
Her heart was overflowing. This soft side of his! She couldn't even tell how much she loved it. And the more sentimental he became, the more she adored him.
"Nobody does it better," she said with her hand on his beard. "No one at all."