Ir-re-me-di-a-ble: Unable to Be Changed

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Konstantina Gataki Iraklidis, ProCrea Swiss Fertility Centre, Switzerland

As an advisor to the Greek ambassador to France, Leo was called in to attend important affairs. At these times, in the diplomatic sense, he actually missed his wife. She was the biggest asset in his entire career. Able to charm the spots off a cheetah, Konstantina was a tiny, diminutive woman. Not weighing one hundred pounds soaking wet, she was a looker. A Mediterranean beauty with dark flashing eyes. She was fluent in more languages than he could count. And ran her own non-profit on the side. She was a genius.

Ah yes. Konstantina. In true Greek fashion, while cold war conditions existed in all other aspects of their life together, they still shared a bed. For shits and giggles, he would wiggle his tickle finger across the wide expanse of bedsheet toward her flannel nightgown clad body in the middle of the night. In his head he counted it down, “Five, four, three, two.” Slap! Usually it came before he got to one.

In his mind, he knew what an asset she would be at tonight’s banquet. Important men of the world. And their wives. Leo had looked over at Lu. How to break it to her? She wasn’t invited.

When Konstantina was in Greece? It was their bed. No question. When had it ever been good for them behind closed doors? Their wedding night? No. She only ceded inches of her body and permitted his c**k’s entry when conception was scheduled. Even then, each inch was a battle. God, she was tight. Not a drop of juice. Desire for her? No, never. Try to jump her for some “Afternoon Delight?” No. Never.

The time they spent at the Swiss fertility clinic to achieve conception was the single most embarrassing experience of his lifetime. This was years ago. Way before today’s in vitro. The things he had to do then? Unspeakable. At first.

He willingly went into one of the exam rooms and was seated. Left alone, he took some time to look around. On a side table were stacks of girlie magazines. The likes of which he had never seen. The top one? Playboy. 1993. Playmate of the Year edition. He cracked it open to the centerfold and met Anna Nicole Smith for the first time. It was really quite racy for those times. No crotch shots. But my god. Those magnificent t**s. The second pictorial in that edition featured two girls at play in Hefner’s Playboy Mansion. Leo was captivated. Fully erect in his pants, his d**k throbbed and ached.

A discreet nurse entered. Not until later did the two cups in her hands catch his eye. She hit a switch to lower a screen. A dirty movie began. Even years later, he could grow an erection just with the memory of that moment. With his eyes glued to the screen, she unzipped his trousers, took out his c**k, and began to pleasure him. It didn’t take long. With a leer, he watched the s*x on the screen as she jerked him off into the first cup. With a horrific animal yell, it flowed. She sealed the cup with an efficient snap. The scent of his salty anise in the air. She handed him a tissue and let him regroup.

In silence the minutes passed, then she leaned down and began to take him by mouth. As he watched the s*x play continue on the screen over her shoulder, his hot sperm rose again. Already. When he throbbed, she pointed him down and put his hot purple end in the second cup. His c**k pulsed and bucked again. In seconds, his sticky goo flowed. The second cup was full.

The nurse stood and straightened her white uniform. “Well,” she tried to begin. For once, she was a bit tongue tied. Later, she would make a quiet inquiry. “Who was that man?” She added, professionally, “C’est bon.” He had done well. That face. Out of all the men she assisted, she would never forget him. Years later, she would see him on the news. She had jacked off the Prime Minister of Greece.

Konstantina was forced to endure her own unique experience. How she had been humiliated. His sperm was sterilely injected into the hallowed, virginal grounds of her cunt. Her ass was then draped and held high in the air in an inversion apparatus. Instead of being the usual playful swimmers, even his warm sperm sensed her hostile environment and tried to turn back. It was not pretty. Thus, creating the need for her to be turned upside down. And they were forced to swim forward to their intended destination. All this was made even less acceptable when the s*x of their conceived child was announced five months later. Female. They never tried again.

Konstantina hated him because he was Greek. “A peasant,” she would yell at him. As the excuse for his latest ineptitude. Years ago they bought their huge, rambling Mayfair flat and, thank the benevolent gods, she mostly remained there. If she came to Athens, she would be at their home on Lycabettus Hill. Period. “This is my family’s home,” she often pointed out. She was a terror. He was afraid of her.

When they were young and could still enjoy a laugh together, they had hoped maybe life would smile on them both. They spent a lot of time on or near the sea. Off Zakynthos was their favorite. When she dove off their boat into the Aegean sans swimsuit? Still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Today, however? If in residence together? They mostly roared at each other. Then slept together that night. Lu could never get that straight in her mind.

And tonight? Leo was busy. Tomorrow he would make it up to her Old School style. He’d buy her a new bauble. They’d take a stroll through Place des Vosges. And watch the fencers joust amongst the rows of trees for a bit. Then they would stop past that little antique place to pick up something.