It's My Sweetest Addiction. Talk German To Me Baby.

“Hallo mein süßes Kätzchen” German. Oh, how I hate it. I hate the way it makes me feel. It doesn’t matter what they're saying. All German makes me feel the same way. Just the very way it sounds makes my body react involuntarily. Shivers run up and down my spine. My head gets all light and feathery. Goosebumps spread all over my body. And worst of all, it makes me horny as f**k. Yes, that's right German makes me horny. It's one of my best-kept secrets. Only two people have ever known about it. One of them being my best friend. She called it; Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, otherwise known as ASMR. Everyone has a sound. Maybe it's creepy music that gives you goosebumps, or the dog’s barking that makes you freeze. Maybe it's a fart sound that makes you laugh and feel giddy. Mine is that German makes me horny. It’s the same for cigarettes. I don't know why but that smell just puts me into a horny kind of high. And so, I've stayed away from both, as much as I could at least. I got a job at a major jewelry company as one of the sales negotiators. I have a nice apartment that I share with my precious calico, Mina, and my 5-year-old genius, Caleb. And, I have a laid-back social life. But little did I know that my perfect world was just about to fall apart. “Mamma, MAMMA!” Caleb yelled as he came running into my room. “Ugh, Caleb, what has Mamma told you about letting her sleep, hmmm?” I asked, still groggy from sleep. “To only wake you up if it’s absolutely necessary.” “That’s right. Now let me sleep.” “But Mamma, it is absolutely necessary! You’re gonna be late for that new position interview!” “Oh, sugar-honey-iced-tea! Thanks for reminding me, sweetie! Is Auntie Cathy here yet?” “She said she’s gonna be here in about 5 minutes or so.” “Okay, have her take you to the park and get some ice cream if you get tired of being inside. And don’t be afraid to call me if there’s an emergency. Don’t spend all day reading your books. You’re still young so you need to play too.” “Mamma, stop it, I’m not a baby! I am 5 years old now! Stop worrying about me and get ready!” “You may not be a baby, but you will always be my baby!” I said, snatching him up and cuddling him. We roughhoused for a couple of minutes before I finally let him go. Once he was out in the living room, I closed the door to my room and headed for my dresser. I pulled out a fiery red blouse, a matching set of bra and panties, thin red tights, and a black mid-length pencil skirt. I quickly slipped out of my nightclothes and into my new outfit. I went to my racks of shoeboxes over on the far side of my twilight themed room. I pulled out a box and put its lid in the bottom. I pulled out the pair of red stilettos with little black roses and slipped them on. I placed the now empty box back on its rack still open, so I’d remember which box I’d gotten them out of. I quickly went into the bathroom. I pulled out a silver makeup kit. I lightly put on some red lipstick, some black eyeliner, and a little mascara. It was enough to pop, but not enough to make it look like I was trying too hard. Walking out to the living room, I straighten my clothes. Caleb comes running to me with a small black box. “Mamma, I want you to wear this! I got it for good luck!” He was practically glowing with pride. “What did you get me?” I took the box and carefully began opening it when he yanked it back. “NO Mamma, let me do it, I’m a big boy now! You can look at it after.” He seemed to want to keep whatever it was a surprise, so I let him. As I closed my eyes and knelt down to his level, he brushed my hair aside and put a necklace around my neck. He fumbled with the clasp for a bit, almost as if he didn’t have a good grip on it. After he was done with that, he started putting earrings in. Those didn’t seem as difficult to figure out. Finally, he put on a rather heavy but dainty bracelet. “I’m done! You can look, Mamma. All you need is your silver watch now!” When I opened my eyes, I saw one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. It had been one of my own designs. What Caleb had meant was he chose the design out of my secret design box. He had made it for me. I never taught him how to make jewelry. He had borrowed an entire library’s section worth of books on it. I didn’t think that a 5-year-old could learn how to make top-notch level jewelry just from a number of books, but then again I was never really surprised by what this kid could do. The bracelet was a medium-sized heart-shaped amethyst with silver vines crawling over and from it. Gold leaves in hearts, some torn, some whole. The necklace was also primarily made of vines, but these vines had red thorns, gold roses, and from them sprouted thornless vines caressing a swaddled baby-shaped amethyst as if in a mother’s embrace. The earrings were dangling from gold threads. A silver woman holding her arms across an amethyst as if it were the most precious thing. It was my “Mother’s love and struggle” set. It was a physical representation of my life after I found out I was pregnant. Tears made my vision blurry. I willed them to stay so I wouldn’t ruin my makeup. Caleb’s ice blue eyes widened. “Is it okay Mamma? I didn’t do anything bad did I?” Concern and worry were evident in his innocent gaze. Quickly, I pulled him into an embrace, stroking his gorgeous blonde hair. His tiny frame bowed while I held him, fitting perfectly within my grasp. “No! No, no, no. You didn’t do anything bad. Mamma loves it very much!” Pulling back from our hug I kissed both of his chubby little cheeks and then stared at him. “Thank you so much for making that for Mamma. If you keep this kind of work up, I might end up making you my personal craftsman. No one else will ever have you.” I gave him another squeeze before setting him down and standing back up. “Auntie Cathy is in the kitchen. Now go break a leg, Mamma!” “Ok Caleb, you behave so Mamma won’t worry!” It may not seem like a good way to say goodbye, but that was how we said: “I love you.” The playful banter adults would have, expresses our love for each other. On my way out I grabbed my red clutch with black fishnet over-lace and put my phone inside. I had also slid on my silver watch as per the request of Caleb. He always knew what would impress, even if I doubted it. I didn’t have a fancy car but it was good on gas mileage. It was still a relatively newer car. I spent very little on material things so I could what was left after bills on materials for prototypes of my jewelry ideas. I may be just a sales negotiator, but I still have a degree in jewelry design and keep my drawings to myself. Only Caleb has ever seen them. Now let’s see if his craftsmanship works in my favor. The files we had to prepare for this new position were strange, to say the least. Of all of the things we had to file was, if we were female, whether or not we were virgins. Many women were turned away just because of that question. I didn’t really pay attention to what the position was, so it didn’t really bother me, I wasn’t really applying for the position because I wanted it. My co-workers were all applying and pressured me into applying too, something about a department raise as compensation for losing a department specialist. The other thing that felt off about this position was the fact that it was being held in the CEO’s office. He was never really involved in anything at all unless it was meetings or business collaborations. His name is Vincent Reinhardt, but I’ve never heard him speak German. He’s obviously of German descent. His brothers tend to speak french. Usually saying how hot a girl is and what they want to do to her should they get her alone. It’s disturbing. One time I heard them speak Greek. Literally. One of the secretaries spoke french so they had to speak in a language she didn’t understand. It didn’t help. She quit 3 months after getting the job because they wouldn’t stop talking about her, in an unreciprocated way. As I rode the elevator up, I started getting a strange foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was about to impact my life, good or bad I still had yet to see. Just as I was about to sit down, my name was called and I walked into the office.             Vincent’s POV When she walked in I immediately noticed something about her was different. Maybe it was the overwhelming simplicity and over-exaggeration of the red and black in her outfit, maybe it was the way she walked. I knew before she even sat down that she would be the one. She reminded me of the only woman I’d ever had s*x with, somehow. The problem with that is I was drunk and the woman had been bound to my bed. I didn’t remember what she looked like, and even if I had remembered it was over 6 years ago. I do remember the measurements. 36DD in the chest, she had been 6” shorter than I am and I’m 6’3”, and she had a 32” waist. I only remember those measurements because I had explored every inch and managed to memorize every curve. The ridges and valleys of her body were hypnotizing. A strange feature of that woman’s body was there were 3 dimples spread on the small of her back between her hips. Shaking my head briefly but slowly, I cleared my thoughts of that night and began reading this woman’s file. She was Italian, although her family had lived here in America for 6 generations. Well, I suppose 7 generations if you consider her son. This woman made it blatantly obvious that she was no virgin. She must have been proud of it to keep pursuing this position after all the others dropped out for not being virgins. “Merde, elle est assez chaude pour brûler au moindre contact. (Damn, she's hot enough to burn at the slightest touch.)” My brother Lucas said.  “Sacrément raison elle est! (Damn right she is!)” My other brother, Elias, agreed. The woman, this Artemia Romano, cleared her throat before speaking. “J'apprécierais que nous puissions garder ce professionnel, les garçons. Je ne suis pas ici pour être admiratif. (I'd appreciate it if we could keep this professional, boys. I'm not here to be gawked at.)” I wasn’t aware that she spoke french. Her resume simply says that she fluently speaks 7 different languages. Perhaps she likes to keep things a surprise? It might have seemed like an incomplete resume and it would normally be tossed out but I’m not really interested in every specific detail of their lives, I just need someone to fill the position to get my grandfather to leave me alone.  “Γαμώτο η γυναίκα μιλά γαλλικά! (Damn the woman speaks French!)” Elias cussed. “Μιλάω επίσης ελληνικά, ηλίθιος. (I also speak Greek, idiot.)” Artemia said, matter-of-factly. She finally took a seat on the chair in front of my desk. “What languages do you speak?” Elias apparently decided professionalism and English were the way to go here. He always makes a fool of himself. There was one time he got caught talking about a coworker, she was a bit of a looker but very much engaged-to-be-wed. Needless to say those sentiments were unwanted from anyone but her fiancé. “English, French, Italian, Greek, Romanian, Russian, and Arabic. I’m also trying to learn Latin and a couple of others.” “Do you know any German by chance?” I asked, finally a tad interested. She shook her head while she spoke. “Sehr wenig. (Very little.)” I was a bit taken aback when she said it in German as fluently as if it were her own native tongue. But then again she had said she didn’t know it well so it would come across as strange. Wait a second. Was that lust I saw glaze over those eyes of hers? Why would she be feeling that way? I looked closer and could no longer see any hint of it. I did notice however, she had strange eyes. One ice blue, the other a topaz yellow. It must be a family trait. Her wavy brown hair was held in a loose but sexy bun, and a few strands sat on the edge of her square-framed glasses. God damn this woman is hot, but it’s gonna take more than looks to get this job sweetheart. I thought to myself. Even though I've already chosen you, I want you to show me you could’ve earned it on your own. “I’ve noticed you have a son. I’m not sure you’ll be a good fit for what I’m looking for.” I said probing. “And just what does having a child have anything to do with it?” She took the bait. “I’m not sure it displays responsibility or loyalty. I’m looking for a wife and I need to make sure you aren’t going to go let other men have you. At least if you were a virgin you could prove your ability to abstain.” A smirk spread across my face. Her demeanor changed. She unfolded her legs and leaned forward. “Are you a virgin Mr. Rienhardt?” Her eyes were slightly squinted, her smile replaced with a mild frown, and her jaw taut. Was that an accusatory tone I heard? “No, I’m not. I lost that 6 years ago while heavily drunk.” My voice was much colder than intended. “Well, how am I supposed to trust you not to cheat on me? If I’m going to be your wife, I must be able to trust my husband won’t go and make a fool of me.” She had closed her eyes, shook her head, and held her hands; palms up, shoulders high, while she spoke. She slowly stood up, her face cold and dissappointed, and shook her head slowly as she spoke. “If my virginity can be taken while I’ve been drugged and bound to some stranger’s bed and that’s a problem for you, then by all means. Take that pretty and naive virgin you want, but if she’s stolen away by someone with a bigger d**k, then is a virgin truly what you would have been looking for? I have only had s*x that one time because I’m afraid of being taken advantage of yet again. That alone might prove I have the ability to abstain if only you didn’t have just my word to go off of at the moment. So, I suppose, you will have to trust me on that.” “Wait, so if you were essentially r***d then why keep the child?” Lucas asked, seemingly confused. “I can understand not wanting any trace of the man who hurt you like that.” “Why should I harm an innocent for the crimes of another?” she said simply. Just then her phone rang. She took one look at the screen in disbelief and exasperation. But her eyes slowly switched to fear and worry. No sooner than she accepted the call did you hear a boy’s voice speaking frantically. “Calmati! Cosa c'è che non va? (Take it easy! What’s wrong?)” A pause and more frantic yelling. “Che cosa?! Dove sei? (What?! Where are you?)” A long pause filled with a boy frantically sobbing. “La mamma sta arrivando. Stai calmo. (Mamma is on the way. Keep calm.)” A short pause. “Baci! (Kisses!)” Locking her screen after hanging up, Artemia looked at me and with worry and sorrow in her eyes began speaking to me again with no hint of it in her voice. Professionalism taking control once more. This damn woman must have incredible self-control to hide all those emotions behind a calm voice. I suppose there’s your proof that you truly could abstain… Well done, my dear. “I’m sorry, it seems my son and best friend have been in a serious car accident. I have to run to the hospital. Since I’m not what you are looking for, I shall take my leave. You know where to find me if you should so desire my company, however I hope it will not be too soon as family comes first.” As she spun around I noticed the unique jewelry set. It looked to be a representation of an internal struggle of sorts. It was an interesting take on what one could accomplish with jewelry. “Where did you get that jewelry?” I asked before she could leave. “It’s my own design, I have a personal craftsman and I shall not be sharing him.” She didn’t even look at me or stop walking away. This woman is very interesting. She was multilingual, could design jewelry very well, and had a personal craftsman who was clearly the best in the business. The question was, why didn't she start up her own company at that rate? Why stay here in my company and stay at a job that doesn't pay all that well? Was it just a job to her? Could she have been looking for someone or something to tell her to pursue the dream she's obviously been holding off on? Whatever it was, after seeing her I knew I'd made the right choice.