Part 4

'“You look very cheerful today,” Ada said when we video chatted several hours after Hilda had gone to work.  “We need to rake in that profit,” I said, “I feel determined, I feel bullish.”

“I realize that you have a single purpose in mind, that you are not just trading to get rich. You want something. Would you tell me what it is?” she said.

After that wonderful night with Hilda I suddenly felt fully focused again on my mission, on getting that painting. All this flirting with Ada had just been sidetracking me. And as I cared less about making Ada feel for me, I didn't mind telling her the entire story. “That's cool,” she said after I had finished. “It's noble, it's original, it's unexpected... yes, I sympathize with your cause.”

Then I asked Ada whether she had a goal.

“I certainly do,” she said, “promise not to laugh.”

“I might.”

“Please don't.”

“But if it's very silly I won't be able to help myself.”

“You will embarrass me.”

“I'll try not to.”

She scraped her throat, then she said: “I want to go to the moon.”

'Hahaha, of course you laughed!' Tom burst out and slapped me on my shoulder with his left hand. 

'Yes, of course, it was a ridiculous thing to say, but Ada was annoyed, because she really meant it. She explained that since she had learned at school about the Rohini satellites that had been launched by the Indian Space Research Organization, she had always believed that India would one day send astronauts to the moon.

She was determined to be one of them. As a high school student she had begun to train her body like an athlete. To her delight she discovered that she excelled at mathematics, and she worked day and night to develop it further. After high school she managed to get a place at the prestigious University of Bangalore, where she began to study mathematics.

“That's what I'm doing now,” she said, “but the problem is that my parents are no longer able to cough up the steep tuition fees. And on top of that I need to pay the salary of my personal fitness coach.”

keon by kiiroo

'And so she turned to crypto,' Tom sighed.

I nodded and stared into the darkness at the other end of the bar.

'What a clusterfuck,' Tom added.

'Yep,' I said, 'little did we know what awaited us. Ada and I were very excited, by our gains, and by each other. I had invested most of the twenty thousand that I had borrowed into Bitconnect, because it seemed that project would yield the biggest gains.'

'You idiot.'

'I know.... at the end of December 2017 my portfolio was worth around eighty thousand. I was sure I was going to make it. On the 1st of January 2018 Hilda went to visit her parents in Munich. She said she wanted to go alone, because she had to discuss serious matters with them and all this talk in German would be boring for me.

I knew that the truth was that she didn't want to take me along because I did not live up to the high standards of her family. And so I had to spent some days on my own in Düsseldorf. I felt slighted... she did not know what I was trying to achieve for her. Yes, I had been flirting with Ada, yet I felt that I did not deserve to be treated like a second rate person. 

That evening Ada video called me. She was in a jubilant mood, all shiny and bubbly. “Why are you such a sourpuss today?!' she cried, “we should celebrate our great gains! We are going to make it, boy! You will buy your Doge and I will go to the Moon!”

I told her why I was grumpy. 

“Your horrible girlfriend has shown a great lack of respect for you! You don't deserve that at all,” she said. During the last words her voice had suddenly sounded husky. She stared straight at me, with those huge chestnut colored eyes. A devious smile had appeared on her face. I felt a tingling sensation run through my spine and my stomach. 

“I don't deserve a mean girlfriend!” I spoke, lifting my eyebrows.

“No, no, you deserve someone who's sweet to you,” she said.

“Do I?”

'Yes you do.”

'Someone sweet...?”

'Yes, I'm sweet,” she spoke slowly, pucking her lips. I had never before noticed what a beautiful pink brown color her lips had. Or at least I hadn't been so conscious of it. “Sweet boy, you deserve a dance,” she said.

Then she stood up, moved her chair to the side and began to dance slowly. She rolled her neck and her eyes seductively. “Do you like my dress?” she asked. I confirmed that I was a stunned by it. It was a red garment with multiple layers that was embroidered with golden patterns. 

“It's a handwoven Banarasi Saree,” she said. She pointed the camera towards the floor and she stretched herself face down on the Persian carpet that lay in the middle of her room. She stretched her arms in front of her and her long pitch black hair curled on the ground. She began to move her face up until she looked straight into the camera. “This dance is called the offering,” she whispered. 

woman in a sari

My mouth went dry. “It's very sexy,” I spoke with difficulty.

“You think it's sexy?”

“Unbearably so...”

She smiled and continued. She rolled on the ground, waved her arms, made pirouettes with her legs. And during this process she began to lose bits of her handwoven Saree. Soon her whole arms were exposed, then her belly, and then her legs. I could now see her satin underwear. I licked my lips, I couldn't help it. She smiled and did the same. 

“I guess now you want to see my breasts, I can see it in your eyes...”

“Well...”

'Well..?”

“Yes, I do”

“Aha, you aren't sweet at all. You are a liar!”

'Ehm...”

Her smile became even more mysterious and seductive. She began to whirl her limbs again and then in one sudden move she tore of her bra. 

“Oh my God,” I stammered.

“What about your God?”

“He was really inspired when he created your breasts...”

“Naughty boy.”

“You are exposing yourself here..”

“Feel free to expose yourself too.”

“But...”

“But what?”

“If I expose myself it will take this, this thing, a whole lot further than where we currently stand.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“You don't mind?”

She shook her head. “It's really okay,” she whispered, “allow me to convince you.” She sat down and opened her thighs, revealing her underwear, which she began to caress with the index- and middle finger of her right hand. Then she lifted her underwear up a bit, showing the pink of her outer lips. 

I did not need much more convincing. I tore of my clothes and threw them haphazardly through the living room. She made the sweetest sounds while we masturbated together. 

Then I came all over Hilda's laptop. 

To be continued

WRITTEN BY:

John Condor

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