Searching for Stolen Love by Kenneth Szulczyk
***
Adnan sat down on a brown, leather couch in Sasha's den while Sasha went upstairs to change.
Then Sasha returned a few minutes later and trotted behind the bar and politely asked, “I know you must be thirsty. What would you like to drink?”
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks,” Adnan replied politely. He knew from previous experience that Sasha could be a little erratic. One minute, Sasha can be pleasant and normal, and the next, he transforms into a raving lunatic.
Adnan had an excellent view of the swimming pool through the den's sliding glass doors. He noticed two incredibly hot blondes, lying down on lawn chairs, soaking up the morning sun. They lay on their backs, as their swimming suit tops lay on a nearby table. Their bottoms had little fabric, revealing their firm, chiseled bodies.
Sasha brought Adnan's drink over and placed it down on the table in front of Adnan. Next, he asked, “How do you like my swimming pool? It’s a hell of a view, isn't it? It costs me a fortune to install a swimming pool on a side of a mountain and enclose it under a sheath of glass. It also costs me a fortune to heat that damn pool during the winter.”
“Yes, you got a nice swimming pool,” Adnan replied with a beaming smile.
“Would you care for a swim? I swim every morning to stay in shape.”
“Nah, I’m not much of a swimmer. We never go swimming in Bosnia,” Adnan replied weakly.
“Then how do you like the girls?” Sasha said cunningly. His eyes glinted mischievously and added, “They’re beautiful, no?”
“They’re quite nice. They’re not from Montenegro, are they?”
“Of course not! Those girls are from Russia. Mother Russia has some of the most beautiful girls in the world. Those two out there came from broken homes with families who didn’t want them. From the kindness of my heart, I took them in, fed them, and put them to work.”
Adnan burst out laughing and replied sarcastically, “Gee, what kind of work. Do they cook and clean or work in a store and sell cigarettes and beer?”
Sasha joined Adnan's laughter with his own and then added, “Let's just say their specialty is properly taking care of a man. That’s their sole purpose in life.”
Sasha started his discourse, “Russian women are beautiful, the most beautiful in the world. Men from around the world fall in love with them. However, some men don’t want wives, but just a little hourly session once or twice a week with a sensual, beautiful woman. So I comply with their demands.
Unfortunately, my clientele has demanding tastes. Sometimes, I have clients who fall in love with one woman and will pay to be with her once or twice a week. Unfortunately, this man is rare.
Then I have the other clientele. They try one dish once or twice, and then they want to sample others. I must stock my whorehouses like a lunch buffet. Unfortunately, men get tired of eating the same meat every day, even very good-looking meat. Some days they like to eat chicken.
That’s why I am very pleased that you brought that Serbian girl. I have nothing but Russian and Romanian girls working in my brothels. A Serbian girl will add another flavor, a different taste to the menu. I want to keep my clients happy and content, so they keep coming back.”
“Are we talking about girls or food?” Adnan asked in jest.
“A man needs both to survive, so why not put the two together,” Sasha snapped.
Then Sasha reached into his pocket, pulled out a kilo of cocaine and plopped it onto the table in front of Adnan next to his drink.
Adnan reached into his pocket and pulled out 40,000 euros. He counted it and then removed six thousand euros that he placed back into his pocket.
“I believe you and Damir agreed on 6,000 euros for the girl.”
Sasha stared at him while his eyes radiated a fierce energy.
“C’mon, man. Damir said you would pay six thousand for her.”
“She’s not worth six thousand. Perhaps, five thousand.”
“You know she will generate a hundred times that in cash.”
“If you don’t like the price, I can have my guards place her into the trunk.”
“Alright, alright. Five thousand it is.” Adnan reached into his pocket and counted out a thousand euros. And then he handed it to Sasha.
Sasha grabbed the money and slid it into the large pocket of his pants while Adnan slid the cocaine into his coat pocket.
“Agreed! Thank Damir for the Serbian girl. I owe him one.”
Sasha glanced back at the pool, and then he turned to study Adnan's face.
“Which girl you like out there? Please don't be shy. That’s my specialty. I don’t want any hard feelings between us.”
Adnan picked up his drink and took a greedy sip, glancing at the two women above the rim of the glass. Then he replied, “It’s hard to say. From here, they both look good. I need a closer inspection.”
Sasha jumped out of his chair and strode to the sliding glass door, quickly opening it. He clapped his hands together, “Girls, come here, now! Chop! Chop!”
Two blondes slowly stood upon their feet while their perky breast curved outward.
They both walked to the table and slowly put their bikini tops on. They were not embarrassed as Adnan gawked at their exposed natural breasts. Then they turned and faced Adnan.
Beads of sweat formed on Adnan's face as he became excited. His male organ began to throb and grow eagerly.
Two hot women walked into the den and stood directly across from Adnan. They both placed their right hand on their hips, thrusting their hips forward, displaying themselves, like a fine slab of meat.
Adnan's crooked smile crept back across his face as he examined up and down their bodies, a wine connoisseur searching for every flaw in a good batch of wine. His male organ throbbed strongly.
Sasha stood next to one of the blondes, using his hand to trace the contour of her body, “Look at her exquisite, hour-glass shape. Look at the supple, natural breast. No silicon, my son. This is all natural. This one here is Svetlana, and that one is Olesya.”
Adnan became a little excited. Now, he understood why Jasmin loved coming to Budva. Sasha was the perfect host. You do something good for Sasha, and Sasha will do something good for you.
Sasha pleaded for an answer and asked, “Which one do you like?”
Girls swayed their hips.
Svetlana began sliding her index finger in and out of her mouth rhythmically, slowly, erotically.
Adnan pointed to Svetlana, the more petite blonde with an innocent-looking face. She was so supple and gentle, sliding her finger in and out of her mouth.
“I like the way she looks,” Adnan said while his right leg twitched up and down excitedly.
“Good choice! Svetlana is one of my best. Svetlana, you know what to do!” She came over demurely and softly grabbed Adnan's hand. She pulled him off the couch. Then he followed her to a bedroom upstairs.
Svetlana stood in the center of the bedroom while Adnan slammed the door shut, locking it. She knew the drill. This was no romance, no love, no relationship. This was pure, animalistic, hedonistic sex. Svetlana earned the most for Sasha and, with her price tag, men never romanced her or seduced her.
Svetlana looked at Adnan and saw a large barbaric oaf. She knew he probably would not use protection on her like the other men. She had to adjust to no condoms while her clients planted their seeds into her fertile field.
Both Svetlana and Adnan removed their clothes and tossed them on the floor near the bed. Within seconds, both Svetlana and Adnan lay naked in bed together.
Adnan rudely pushed her onto her back and quickly mounted her. He began thrusting hard and wide, while the whole bed rocked back and forth along with her.
Svetlana closed her eyes and pretended she enjoyed it. She moaned and groaned to Adnan's rhythmic barbaric thrusts. She performed her role perfectly, making sure she did not bruise a man’s childish ego. One complaint to Sasha, and he would beat her with a belt.
After fifteen minutes, A
Svetlana lay back and closed her legs and whispered, “That was fast, big boy. What, no stamina?” Then she struck Adnan's back with her knee.
A loud, long fart blew like a trumpet from Adnan's ass.
Svetlana quickly frowned and jumped off the bed and slipped into her clothes. She quickly scurried out of the room and headed for the bathroom down the hall.
She shook her head back and forth and pouted a little. She remembered when she was a little girl in Russia, and all the other girls made fun of her tattered, hand-me-down clothes in school. She dreamed she would escape the poverty and destitution of her village.
Now, she wore beautiful, expensive clothes. Sometimes she ate at expensive restaurants and rode around in expensive cars, but why did she feel so empty? Why are these rich men and gangsters so rude, so disgusting, so thoughtless? She dreamed of leaving this world behind and traveled to a new world filled with better quality people. How could she start over again?