Behind the Iron Curtain

I was cross-eyed as I pulled out of her and slumped on the sofa. She ran to the bathroom and I heard the flush. She came back with a wet flannel and proceeded to clean my cock. I patted her head as if she was a pet. 'I am not getting rid of you,' I said, and she looked at me uncomprehendingly. I remembered why I had come back to the house in the middle of the day - well, apart from wanting to fuck her, of course. I reached out to the note she had handed when I came in. The one in which she said she would cook and clean. 'Who wrote this for you?' I asked.

She looked at me quizzically. I pointed to the letters. 'English. Who?'

'Ja, ja,' she said. 'Sestra. Danica.'

I guessed that was her sister. Damn. I hoped that wouldn't cramp my style with Natalya. 'Danica. Call.' I made a sign with my hand until she understood.

It was an hour later and I was in the study looking through the company accounts when there was a knock on the door and Natalya came in with her sister. 'Danica.' she said.

'Hi there,' I said, standing up from my chair.

'How do you do?' Danica said.

Damn, Danica was just as hot as Natalya, and she spoke perfect English with a delightful accent.