"Some view you've got here."

I watched Terry as he leaned on the mahogany rail of my balcony and stared out at the nightscape exposed before him. He was right. It was some view. But it had only just become complete. It always takes my breath away when I step up the white marble staircase from the dining room to the lounge; at night one is hit full in the face by the vista of Kuala Lumpur by moonlight framed by the lush rainforest of my hill retreat. It is an intoxicating contrast of modern, vibrant Asian capital viewed from the still quiet jungle setting. The magnificent steel and glass structures of the Petronas Twin Towers, the tallest buildings on earth rear centre stage, rising in impossible mimicry of the forty foot hardwoods which tower left and right above my low rise condominium. Too far from the hustle and bustle to hear the noise or smell the pollution of a city gone mad with cars and new-found affluence but near enough to savour its lush garden ambience and award winning architectural beauty. Nothing but the still fragrant humid night air, the chatter of crickets and the occasional screech of a monkey not yet settled for the night breaks the silence of the evening.

Oh, yes, it was a view to savour. And now it was complete. I had at last found the nerve. I had asked for him and he had come half way across the world to visit me. There he was on my balcony, admiring my view - and it would now become his home. So, everything was complete. Then why did I feel this way? Why had we barely spoken anything other than polite pleasantries more suited to a casual social occasion than the prelude to an intimate affair? I wasn't nervous as I had been with Bud, nor intimidated as I had been with Maximus. This time I was insecure and my visitor was making little effort to make me feel any differently. That alone surprised me. Wasn't he, above all of the Brothers, the one most famed for his ability to put people at ease and support them? With me he just seemed distant and awkward, ill at ease. He lit up a cigarette and smoked pensively as he gazed out at the city and this very act suggested he was far from comfortable in his new environment.

It had not started well. He had mailed to say he was on his way but gave no indication of flight arrival, airline or even time of day- just the date. I checked with KLIA but there were any number of planes he could have been arriving on so I simply had to wait at home. Not that I was concerned that he would have any difficulty finding where I was - isn't that his speciality? Sure enough he arrived by cab and the first glimpse I had of him was as he chatted to the driver on the forecourt. I could hear the distant conversation - apparently he was fluent in Malay. Typical - speaks it better than I do. He must have learnt it in the Australian army. As the red and white taxicab pulled away, I had watched like a Peeping Tom from the vantage of my balcony; he stood awhile and viewed the scene, watching the cab winding down hill its way from my block at the summit of the hill. I had wondered then what was passing through his mind.

For someone just off a very long haul flight, not to mention the interminable one and a half hour taxi journey to the city from the new and far off, state of the art, white elephant of an airport, he looked remarkably fresh. He was wearing a lightweight beige linen suit with a pale blue shirt and, apart from a slight stubble, could have passed for some expatriate coming home from the office. He glanced up suddenly and caught my curious stare but his face gave little away. Just a nod of recognition. Somehow that seemed even worse than not knowing me at all.

He entered the apartment, made the usual polite comments about how tastefully furnished and well appointed it was; I thanked him and asked him how his flight had been and he said fine. Well. Now what do we say? I showed him round and he threw his carry-on onto the bed of one of the two rooms leading from my mezzanine lounge. I must explain. I have a curious apartment in KL. It seems to follow the steep contour of the hill so that I have four floors - it is like a split-level duplex. At the very top is the master bedroom covering the entire floor space of the whole apartment-   an enormous space, which looks out onto the same view as the balcony downstairs- one wall of windows on the fabulous scene. Attached is a large granite and marble bathroom with an enormous tub - the millionaire developer who had built the condos had designed this apartment for himself and it has some features which, although too good to remove, are rather over the top for my more minimalist tastes. But visitors are always impressed. Except for Terry Thorne. He paid little attention and selected the spare room downstairs for himself.

I left him to settle in and take a shower and went to my own room at the top to do the same. I imagined us both as we took our showers and contemplated the week ahead. I wasn't even sure how I was going to cope with the next few hours never mind seven whole days - was that also going through his mind too?

He was quicker than I was and as I stepped on bare feet down the stairs to the lounge, he was already there. He was used to the protocol in Asian homes - shoes left outside the main door, light and loose clothing in the house. He wore a pair of white cotton pants and a fine Indian cotton shirt, collarless and loose. Framed against the clear night sky and the vivid bright pink splash of the bougainvillea that tumble from the boxes just below the rail of my balcony, he seemed like an advertisement for exotic travel- the world traveller section. I wonder if he had any idea of how he made me feel?

"Yes, I love the view. It excites and calms me all at the same time." I replied enigmatically. He looked side wards at me and I felt that he could read my mind. I wasn't sure I appreciated that.

"Would you like a drink?"

"A beer would be nice."

"Tiger?"

"Fine."

Fine. OK. Nice. Pleasant. Funny how some words normally more than acceptable in any social situation can seem so cutting at another time. I selected a CD, some Diana Krall light and smooth jazz, went to the bar and fixed the drinks - beer for him and a gin and tonic for myself. I gulped a mouthful and tried to gather my wits. Handing the beer glass over, I stood in front of him on the cool granite grey stones of the balcony and lit some citronella tea lights to ward off the inevitable early evening mosquito blight. He watched me as I attended to the candles. I could see his reflection in the folded-back French windows. I felt exposed in the blue silk sarong I had donned, wishing that it did not cling so sheerly or expose so much of my neck and shoulders - did I look as if I was flaunting myself? I had intended for Asian chic but I wasn't a tiny Malay or Chinese girl who looks demure in such wear.  On me it suddenly appeared cheap and obvious.

"I thought you might like to eat out? We have some incredibly good local restaurants nearby. I rarely cook Asian food and I'm sure you don't want to eat European..."

"Local is fine. I like the cuisine of this region very much. Suits me."

End of that conversation.

"Is the music OK?"

"Great."

"Look, if you are tired, I could just send out for something.."

"No. I'm wide awake."

"Good."

Good. Fine. OK. Great.

I took another drink and lit a cigarette. He seemed surprised.

"I didn't imagine you would smoke."

"I don't. Usually. Occasionally when I am drunk or under pressure." 

For the first time I saw a glimmer of a smile and his eyes seemed to hold a hint of amusement in them. "Makes two of us then, doesn't it?"

It's strange how sometimes one sentence, even maybe one word, is all it takes to change a mood. Suddenly we stopped trying to be polite.

"Look. I'm not sure why we have got off on the wrong foot but... I'm very glad you're here. No! That's not what I mean. That's such an understatement. I am absolutely delighted that you are here. I have waiting for this for so long and it seems almost impossible that...."

"Really?" Terry spoke in a sarcastic tone that I had not expected. It was slightly mocking and very hurtful. I felt as if he had slammed a door shut in my face. He must have realised the effect his one word had had because as I simply blushed and shut up, dragging on my cigarette and turning away, he added: "I'm sorry. That wasn't called for."

I composed my face before I turned to him again.

"Then why did you say it? I thought you were the expert at dealing with people? Saying the right things at the right time?"

"You're not a client."

Really?" I echoed his words and saw the slight reaction in his eyes.

"No, you are not a client."

"It makes a difference, does it?"

He raised his eyes. "Of course it makes a bloody difference. What do you think I am? Some sort of robot?"

It was the first spark of anything other than indifference that he had shown since he had arrived. It might have been annoyance but it was still emotion. He was sufficiently bothered about something to feel some passion. What was bothering him? As if I didn't know. He was here with me and he wanted to be somewhere else with someone else. Who could blame him for feeling this way?

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake, wasn't it? I shouldn't have asked you to come now."

"Well, that's one thing you've got right."

I paused at that. I didn't deserve a comment like that. I could appreciate that he was involved with someone else but I hadn't done anything wrong. He knew the way we lived.

"I think that's a little unfair. Don't blame me for things that haven't worked out for you. I had no part in what happened. It's between you and her- leave me out of it."

He looked at me puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

My turn to look confused. "I'm talking about you and...."

"Why?"

"Because that's what's wrong with you, isn't it?"

"Wrong with me?"

"Stop repeating what I say. Give me an answer."

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

"Right. Let's spell it out then!" Oh dear, I was losing my temper and that was not a wise move. " You arrive here looking like you've just lost the winning ticket on the National Lottery and proceed to make it abundantly clear that you don't want to be here or even with me. What have I done to make you so pissed?"

Terry suddenly smiled and rubbed his hands through his hair. "Is that what you thought? That this was about me preferring to be with someone else?"

"Well, what else can it be? Or perhaps you just took an instant dislike to me. You must be a great reader of character, Mr Thorne, if you can decide that much after exchanging a mere few monosyllabic grunts."

"Well, you thought wrong."

"OK. So enlighten me. What the fuck is wrong with you then?"

This time he grinned. "I wondered when you were going to show a bit of spirit. Thought I was in the wrong apartment."

I ignored his comment. "You haven't answered my question. Why are you pissed at me?"

"You don't know, do you? You have no fucking idea, whatsoever! Thought you and Il Duce would have sorted all of us out by now."

"What? Who? What are you talking about?"

"Or perhaps you would have preferred some more correction from your friendly neighbourhood psycho cop? He seems able to sort out all female problems in one almighty bang."

I stood and looked at him in disbelief. 

"And I really can't imagine why you haven't got the 'fucking padre' here to take pot shots at the cobras.  Did someone else snap him up before you could get your hands on him? Was Adolf too busy boning up on Mein Kampf to bone you?"

What on earth was he talking about? I knew he was pissed with me but this was precious close to a tantrum and was the last thing I had expected from the archetypal Mr. Cool, famous for dealing with any situation like the hard nosed professional he was. Terry Thorne - tough, uncompromising, intelligent, brave, intuitive, noble, formidable  - you name the fine quality, he had it in buckets. But no one had mentioned that he might also suffer from the old green-eyed god. I supposed I should have guessed; he was an alpha male - so I suppose it must make sense that along with the positive qualities he would also be a jealous bastard. In fact as, as Terry Thorne did everything better than most men, then it suddenly became obvious that he would excel at jealous bastard. May I correct that? More like incredibly unreasonable jealous bastard.

"You are jealous of them? I thought you all got on well together. I thought..."

"I've no problems with any of them."

"No? It sounds like you have a major problem. Il Duce? Adolf and the fucking padre? Don't make me laugh!"

He winced. "You get to pick whoever you want. You pick Bud White! Why him? What possible attraction can he be to a smart girl like you?"

"How dare you ask me that? It's none of your business."

"Think he has something I haven't?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"And then you talk endless shit about that cowboy with his shaky grip on theology. But, I forget- that's the only thing shaky in his grip, isn't it? He's got magic hands..."

I opened my mouth to speak but he wasn't finished. "...and you start taunting me with clever comments - in Latin- online. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"It was a joke. You got no sense of humour? You were the one who mentioned WD 40..."

"I have a sense of humour. But it is wearing thin. I'm sick of being the dependable Thorne who is always there if someone loses something or has a problem or just needs a good fuck. You of all people! I thought you and I... and then you sent for him... that was the last fucking straw." He lit up another cigarette and threw himself down in a chair.

"Him? You still on about Bud? Look- I didn't even get the game at that point. And Bud was... I mean it was so uncomplicated and such fun... I'll admit he affected me more than I expected but he isn't a rival to you. You are number one. That makes it different. Bud and I are just..."

"Fuck Bud. I don't give a shit about you and Bud. You can break bed springs with him whenever you feel like it."

"Well, what is it then?" And suddenly the penny dropped. Although I think it was more like a golden aureus than a penny. "Maximus? Is this about him? Il Duce? You mean Max?" I burst out laughing at the very idea that he was concerned about my relationship with the general.

"So funny, hey? It was bloody obvious. If it wasn't for a certain precedence you would have had him like a shot. And I suspect he would feel the same about you. Bound to really. You are the only one who can make him feel really at home."

"I would not! Anyway, I'm a modern girl- don't be ridiculous. Sure, I like him a lot. He fascinates me. But not like that. I mean wouldn't you like to speak to Napoleon or General Patton or I don't know - some great warrior that you admire?"

He snorted. " Speak to him? He fucked the living daylights out of you. Don't give me that shit about the two of you talking philosophy and strategy all week. He's a man. You're a woman - and you quite clearly did it for him. Admit it. If you were allowed you would be on his #1 spot like a rat up a drain. If he shows the least sign of interest it will be all change. And you and I both know who will be waiting with open arms - legs too, probably."

I slapped his face and ran upstairs. How dare he speak to me like that! Like he didn't intend to see other women?  Wasn't that the Game? I didn't hold that against him. Well, I did a bit. But I didn't blame him. It might intimidate me that such formidable and attractive women were in his life and I simply had to accept that - but it worked both ways. He had nothing to fear from anyone else. I chose him for one reason and one reason only- because he was everything I wanted and required in a man. Anyone else was just a pale imitation of what he was. Why on earth should a man like him feel insecure?

I lay in the dark on my bed and tried to work him out. He didn't like the idea of me with Bud. He was sarcastic about Cort and Hando. But it was clearly Maximus who had pushed his buttons. Why? He should understand Max best of all. In many ways they were similar. In a different age, Terry would have behaved very much as Maximus had done. They were men of the same ilk. Hando, Bud, some of the others were not the same; they were not men with whom Terry would feel a natural bond. Even those he would respect would not present a threat to him. Maximus and he should have so much in common - yet he seemed actively to resent him. Why? I couldn't fathom it. What was going on in his mind?

There was a knock at the door. I didn't reply. He entered anyway. It was dark in the room and I did not speak. I wasn't sure that I had anything to say to him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. About him. About any of them."

"Why did you?"

He stood by the door; I could make out his shape against the thin shaft of moonlight. "I thought I had you - and then you chose him. I can't compete with him. Not for a woman like you."

His words reverberated through me; I was not sure I had heard or interpreted them right.

"Terry? I can't believe you just said that. Come here."

He walked over to the bed and sat at the bottom on the teak bench. I slipped up behind him and touched him for the first time, leaning against his back, my arms around his waist.

"Is that what you believe? That you are a substitute for Maximus? Have you any idea why I really didn't call you first?"

He said nothing but I felt a slight relaxation in his body; at last he could sense my mood. He was beginning to read between my lines but he still needed me to say it.

"I couldn't believe that you would have the slightest interest in me. And I was so enamoured of you that I didn't want to see you look at me with disappointment. I thought you would prefer someone else. So I ran away from you. Bud was fantastic. I even forgot you for a while. Max was fascinating but he knew- he knew he could never replace you in my affections.  When Ann made that mistake with Hando, I did something I'm ashamed of - I tried to take advantage of it. But I know it won't work. You both said that you were born for each other. If I didn't care so much about both of you, I might be jealous - but I can't be. If that is what you want- that's fine with me. I just want you to be happy."

He said nothing for a long time. And then he turned around and pulled me close. 

"I have relationships with many women. But you are someone that I really wanted to meet. You intrigue me. That's why I want you so much. That's why I don't want to share you. And as for Maximus... I have more respect for Maximus than any man alive - I can't imagine any woman not wanting him if she can have him..."

I decided then that we had talked too much- far too much. I reached for him and pulled him down against me and we fell to the soft white lawn of the cool bed covering. Rolling over, I found myself lying under him and we stayed like that for expectant seconds, the only sound our shallow breathing as we both struggled to think clearly. I think I got there first. Pulling on his neck, I forced our lips to meet and tasted him. How long had I waited for this moment? How rarely long expected hopes are rewarded with fulfilment equal in measure to their contemplation. This time, however, was one of those rare occasions.

His lips were soft and fleshy and both aggressive and hesitant at the same time. He was still unsure but his natural masculinity was carrying him away. Terry had something to prove- but only to himself. He had already convinced me with one kiss that I had been right. No one would ever make me feel like this ever again. He likes to kiss. So do I. I relish a man who takes his time. A man who makes me forget that what we are doing is actually something that we have both done many times before with many other partners and would do so many times again. But with Terry everything seems new and spontaneous; each step we take to fulfilment feels like something I have never experienced before.

Clothes fell away. A sarong has little to hold it anyway and I was naked beneath. Beneath the loose clothing that he wore, Terry was naked too. But still we only kissed and touched, despite the erotic feeling of his nakedness against mine. But it felt innocent- fresh and new. Discovery. A whole new world and I had no desire to speed up the process. If I spent my entire future simply pressed against him, I would not ask for more.

The room was warm. I had not put on the air conditioner or even the overhead fan. I could feel the perspiration on my body as the heat from him increased the humidity of the warm night. A trickle of moisture ran down between my breasts. His back was damp to my touch; somehow the idea of sweat intermingled on our bodies aroused me even more. I felt the shudder of anticipation as he began to move down from my lips to my ears, my throat, holding my arms above my head and kissing the hollow of my armpits now damp with sweat. No part of me felt dry- as my sex was moistening so was every pore of my body in unison. I felt like the core of my being was weeping at his touch.

He nestled between my breasts; I felt his tongue lick the wetness gathered there before he moved with a deep groan onto each nipple, both already erect and longing for his attention. I whimpered when I felt his tongue. Throughout this slow and languid foreplay our bodies writhed together as if they were already one. I hadn't even seen him naked, or thought about his manhood - what we were doing seemed something more elemental than an assembly of body parts and arousal based on physical attraction. I did not know what I wanted to do to him, what he wanted from me, what he might give to me- we were being driven by instinct alone and it felt good.

I was on my back. Then I was above him. I lay on my front as he swept down my back and licked me from my neck to the base of my spine. He was at my feet, his tongue raked the inside of my thighs, he was between my legs, fire shooting through me as he explored my deep dark mysteries. I sat wrapped around him, I lay spread eagled half off the bed, held only by his strong grip. I knelt before him and offered myself to him. I buried myself in his groin, luxuriating in the sight, feel and smell of him.

Time passed, sensation and moisture, touch and smell, primal senses were all that we were, speech impossible, language reduced to basic cries and moans, a universal message to each other, a secret symbol of our inner emotions. And then the surge, my frantic cries, his urgent groans, that mimicry of suffering, the exquisite torture, the true meaning of passion - the beautiful pain of orgasm.

How long did we lie there, our bodies racked by tremors and feeble shudders as we fought to master the moment? Even then we lay wrapped, feverish, sweat drenched and unwilling or unable to face each other in sane conversation after our bodies had transported us to this other place from which neither of us wished to return.

"Terry?" I spoke his name so quietly, afraid to break the spell that held us. "Do you know now what you mean to me?"

He rolled away slightly; I felt the lack of his closeness immediately. "I didn't understand."

"They all give me things I need. But only you give me everything. That is the nature of this game. It doesn't have to make sense. It just is. Let me have my playtime with the others. It has no part in what we do. Just as I won't fight with them or be jealous or worry where they are when they are not with me.  You and I are going to hurt but we are going to feel. It will always be different for you and me."

Terry was listening and seemed to be digesting what I was saying; I wondered whether he would speak. But then:"I will always worry about you and Maximus."

"I will never trust you and ..."

He smiled. "But never Hando. Promise me. That makes no sense. Bud, Cort, East, Lachlan, even Jeff, for God's sake - but Hando? Why would any woman want that humiliation?"

I didn't explain. It was no use telling him that Hando was not all he seemed. Men do not have the capacity to read other men as women do. But I had to make a choice. He was giving me a carte blanche - almost. I want Hando. Have I got the strength to say no? I recalled what making love with Terry had been like. I knew the wedge Hando had driven between him and Ann. Terry was worth the sacrifice.

"I promise. Never Hando."

"He will stalk you all the more now."

"Then I will have to be strong."

"You haven't asked anything of me in return."

"I don't need to. You give me enough. I'm not scared of the others. You need them all. For the things I can't be for you. But no one will better the things that I can do for you."

He held me close and I could feel the steady thud of his heart against my naked breast. His cock nestled between my thighs and our legs intertwined; it was natural and both intimate and innocent. Just as our lovemaking had been - beyond desire and lust and physical need to another plain where men and women occasionally meet- an earthly kind of paradise.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

A few days later and life had settled to something like an equilibrium. We had been out and about, dined at great restaurants, gone to nightclubs, visited the sights, been shopping in the malls and the ethnic markets. Things were calm between us, there had been no reference to the initial insecurities that had bothered us both and, as the week had passed, we had just got to know each other- and liked what we found. Terry was so funny- laconic and irreverent in turns, always ready with a quick retort and a great line in sarcasm. Just the kind of humour that most appeals to me.

We discovered a shared taste in many things - books, music, films, art - he even supports United, for God's sake- what more could bind me to a man? I began to wonder if we had been correct. Both of us had suspected that we were going to give the other a difficult ride but the opposite was happening. With the erotic and sensory experiences we were giving each other in bed - and out of it, it must be said - everything seemed to be beyond my wildest dreams.

So I was in the bedroom, drying my hair and he was in the bathroom shaving and I suddenly had a thought. Perhaps I knew him well enough now to raise another issue.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what you said about Hando?"

I felt the sudden chill in the air. He didn't respond.

"You know you asked me not to see Hando?"

There was still no reply.

"Well, I asked for him. Last night. When you were asleep."

"I asked you not to."

He had entered the room and I hadn't heard him approach. It startled me to hear his voice so near.

"That was before."

"Before what?"

Before we sorted things out."

"Sorted things out?"

"I mean. We know where we stand now. Hando doesn't matter anymore."

"Then tell him to piss off."

I looked at him. "And exactly how do I tell him to do that?"

"I think that's your problem, luv. But you'd better find a way. Or we are not        'sorted out'."

I put my head in my hands. "That is so stupid! You said it didn't matter about the others. You go and see whom you like. I will see whomever I like and then at Christmas we will be together again- it will be wonderful. But I need to get Hando out of my system."

"I'm warning you. You go near him and you'll be sorry."

"He won't hurt me!"

"I wasn't talking about him."

I turned and stared. "Are you threatening me?"

He rubbed his hair with his hand and groaned. "Uma - you promised me! It's the only thing I asked. Don't let me down now."

"Just one visit, Terry. I just want to know."

"Know what? What do you think he's got that I haven't?"

I found it difficult to repress the smile of victory. I had known he would say that.

"Youth?"

"That all you can think of? Then call Andy Pandy or Sheila."

I gave him a withering glance. 

"Danger. The threat of violence. Loss of control. Domination. Right wing fascist propaganda instead of romantic endearments. Being on the edge. Fear. The unexpected. Just plain badness."

Terry laughed scornfully. "You think he knows how to do that? I mean really knows how to do that? The boy wages war against people who are too weak to fight him back. Do you think he knows how it feels to fight with a real man? Do you? Do you think he knows more about intimidation than ..."

"Than who?"

He didn't answer. "He has never even seen a real theatre of war. That's his problem. He thinks he knows the mean streets. He would shit himself if he were face to face with a war zone. Believe me."

"I'm not talking noble warrior here. I know you've been there and seen terrible stuff. This is about what Hando can do to women. Not about boys and toys."

"There is nothing he can do to a man or a woman that I can't. The difference is I do it for real. Not just to amuse my merry little band of losers."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

"I dare you."

"Dare me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"Show me if you have the first idea what I am talking about. Men don't get Hando. But women do. I don't think you know what I mean."

"You don't think I know what you mean?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

"You quite finished?  I've had enough of this." He threw on a shirt and stormed out of the room; I ran after him.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

He picked up my car keys from the table by the door. "Hey, they're my car keys!"

"Yeah."

And he banged the door as he left.

I was stuck in the house with no idea where he was. I tried his phone; it was switched off. An hour or two passed and I began to feel that I had really blown it - why had I opened my big mouth? And then the doorbell rang. Terry had a key.

Reluctantly I opened the door.

"Took your time, didn't ya, luv?"

Thank you, God! That is all I need. 

"How the fuck did you get here so soon?"

"In transit. Checked my mails. Fucking gook airports got it all these days."

"Well, you'll have to go. I can't possibly see you now."

He laughed and pushed past me into the apartment, looking around like a prowling wolf. "Very nice. Ideal fucking Homes magazine.  Some of the Chink stuff needs to go..."

"It is not Chink stuff, as you call it. They are pieces from all over Asia and Africa..."

"All the fucking same to me, luv. But it's your squat."

"Yes it is. And I don't want you here. Please go."

"You invited me. I'm like a vampire, luv. Be very careful if you invite me in."

He leaned against the dining table and stared. If that was the right word. Pierced might be more accurate. Transfixed. Skewered. I swallowed hard and felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle. I was unsure whether it was fear or desire; I felt naked under his gaze.

"You look hot, luv."

"So do you." I shouldn't have said it.

He smiled sardonically. "Ta, luv." And he pouted at me. "What you looking at?"

Like a rat up a drainpipe he had been on to the surreptitious glance I had made at his groin. I dragged my eyes away. "Nothing much," I answered. suddenly tired of his posturing.

"Ooh, you trying to hurt my feelings?" he mocked and shivered. "Unwise. Make you a proposal, luv. You want me to clear off while you make up with soldier boy? Fair enough. But I came a long way. We'll make this quick and everybody's happy."

"You don't seriously think that I'm going to let you have at me just like that, do you?"

He smirked. "Can't see how you can really stop me. Not if my mind's made up. And my nose tells me that you don't want me to stop either. I can smell you from here, luv. Can you smell me?"

His hand brushed lazily down the crotch of his pants, outlining the shape of its contents. His eyes didn't leave mine.  He ripped off his shirt and let it fall.

"Come here."

I did. I must have done. I was in front of him. He reached out and dragged my hips against him, grinding hard and slipping his hand around my throat to force my mouth against his. He spoke into my lips.

"Reckon those lips have sucked a few dicks. Want to try some real meat?" I heard him slip his zipper down and felt him rub his cock against my hand. I also heard the whimper that escaped from my mouth. I wanted to bite my tongue off. I didn't want him to know the effect his coarse crudity was having.

"Down." He lowered me to my knees on the marble floor. "Show me what you can do, luv. Then I'll sort you out, give you a real Aussie rooting. Not sure you've had that yet." He dropped his pants to the floor and stood there naked before me.

It wasn't my finest hour - I'll have to admit that. But I performed adequately enough. I don't think he was complaining judging by the steady and rhythmic explosive grunt of air that he was emitting as I ran by tongue down his shaft. Christ, he's big - so big and thick with a pulsing vein, swollen with the surge of blood that engorged it. I lowered my mouth along and could not resist grazing him lightly with my teeth; he tensed and jerked me back by my hair.

"No teeth. You try that, luv, and you will lose yours. Do you understand me?"

I whimpered and blinked my eyes in assent.

"Now. Suck my dick as if you mean it. Real hard. Get that little tongue working. And if you are a really good little bitch then I will oil that little fanny of yours good and proper." He thrust down hard and I gagged at the feel of his tip banging the back of my throat. I couldn't use my hands to assist- he was forcing his full length on me, holding back my arms.

As unpleasant as it was, I could not help but feel a rising sense of both anticipation and desire. I didn't know where he was going to go next - my mind began to race with possibilities and all of them disturbed me. There was the first frisson of fear at how strong he was and how completely helpless I would be to stop him if this got out of control.

"That's a good girl. Lower. Suck my balls. Gently now. You wouldn't like to hurt me, now would you? You wouldn't want to really make me angry?" While he was talking he jerked himself off over my head and face; I wondered whether he would just come like that. But he hadn't finished yet. Hauling me away and onto my knees, holding onto my hair, he tossed me to the floor. Ripping away my wrap, he pushed me onto all fours and raised my hips. With little ceremony, he drove in deep, shunting me until I fell onto my face- he merely pulled me back onto my knees again by my hips. It was painful but cool against the marble tiles.

"That is so tight.  I'm so fucking far inside your cunt. Tell me like you that."

I didn't reply. He jerked back my head.

"You dumb or something? Tell me you like it!" and he rammed harder. I sobbed and said "I like it."

"You want it harder?"

"Yes, harder."

He continued thrusting deep and slow, his groin slamming against me, his balls thwacking. I wasn't sure if I was in pain or ecstasy or some combination of both.

"You know what I'm going to do now?"

I shook my head. He suddenly pulled out and spun me round to face him. He held my arm and stared at me. His eyes were glistening and dark, his mouth slightly amused. He had an impenetrable expression on his face.

"What do you think I am going to do to you, now?"

"I don't know."

"No?"

"No?"

"Repeat after me. Do what you want."

"Do what you want."

"Anything you want."

"Anything you want."

"Hurt me."

I stopped, he twisted my arm. "Hurt me," I gasped.

"Fuck my arse."

I whimpered and my eyes enlarged. He bent my arm back some more.

"Fuck my arse." I repeated.

"You sure about that?"

I nodded, tears already forming.

"Who's the echo now?"

"I am."

A fucking little echo. Too scared to argue. Too scared to tell me no. Great fun this isn't it, Uma? Uncontrollable virility. Domination. Fear. Power. You want me to spout some trite fucking little misquotes from Mein Kampf while I'm having at you or will any old racist propaganda do? Just to make your experience complete? Wouldn't like to leave anything out."

I hit out at him; he grabbed my arm to prevent me. He picked me up, ran with me up the stairs to the lounge and threw me from where I was onto the couch - it was a flight of quite a few feet and the shock of the sudden movement made me scream   

 And then he stopped and knelt down at my side.

"Now, if this was the real thing i.e. a war zone and you were fresh meat for the boys or if our mate Hando was really here- this is where the fun would start. First he'd make you suck him off and then he'd let his boys at you. Now you'd really like that, wouldn't you? Some of those sick bastards would want you two at a time. Mind you, Hando would want to be first up your jacksie so he might just let them watch while he gave you a good creaming. Enjoy that, would you?"

"I don't know- he hasn't done it yet! Soldier boy's gone all moral on me. Thinks he can give me a lecture on not biting off more than I can chew." I retorted, facing up to him.

"Very unwise remark, luv. Good job I'm a more civilised man than your mate Adolf."

I laughed. "You're no different. Right wing, fascist bastard with a penchant for using your military might to subdue the weak. He wears tattoos- you wear a uniform. He carries a switchblade- you an assault rifle.  He swathes himself in swastikas. Which flag you want today, Terry? Union Jack? Southern Cross?  Make your mind up. Leastways he knows where he came from. All you have is the sanction of the state. Maybe he's more honest than you are."

Terry simply pulled me off the couch and thrust me up against the wall. With one movement he raised me up and hilted me. With his face close to mine, he said "Say ...that... again..."

"What?"

"Any of it. That you actually believe. But, mate, you and Hando wouldn't be talking politics - he wouldn't waste his breath on the opinions of a sheila."

"No, he'd be too busy giving me a good time."

Terry swore and kissed me brutally on the mouth, I bit his lip.

"I swear I'll split you in two if you goad me anymore."

He tried. I'm stronger than I look. He rammed me against the wall over and over and I wrapped myself round him and hung on. I couldn't believe that he could last that long. At last I heard his shout and the racking tremors as he came violently and in a torrent of abuse. To my surprise I felt myself hit the same height as he did and my deafening yell must have damaged his eardrums. We both collapsed back exhausted on to the couch.

Terry pulled away and lay at a distance on the floor, his eyes closed and struggling with his breathing. I rolled up in a ball and whimpered. There didn't seem a part of my body that wasn't sore.

"Terry?" I slipped down to kneel beside him

"Yeah?"

"I never asked for Hando, you know."

"I know."

"You know?"

He grinned and sniffed. "Enjoyed that though, didn't you? Who do you fancy next? Sid?" I punched his arm.

I smiled. "Can't fool you, can I?"

He shook his head.

"Did you enjoy it?" I asked tentatively. He grimaced slightly.

"More than I should have - but less than I thought I might. Just like you."

He was right. It had been some frenzied moment but not one I would care to repeat.

"You picked up the clues pretty fast. I only had to say one line and you were on it like a flash." He observed. It was true. He hadn't looked or even dressed like Hando but I knew the moment I opened the door that it wasn't the Terry that I knew. That is what had frightened me so much. I wasn't sure that I wanted him to reveal a Hando-side. The real Hando would be easy to handle in comparison to a seriously pissed off Terry.

"But you didn't have to be so authentic. I ache all over."

"You didn't have to bite my dick. Or my lip for that matter."

"Want me to kiss it better?"

"You can if you like."

I rolled over him and gave him a tender kiss first on his lip and then just where he really wanted it. He moaned softly.

"Uma? I mean it. No Hando."

"I said only once. I've had once. But don't you bloody dare ever treat me like that again!"

I snuggled up next to him and he circled his arms around me. I breathed a deep sigh of contentment. I had him back; he had made his point. Anything anyone could give me, he could surpass.

"Why did you lie about Hando?"

"To see what you would do."

"Bit of a dangerous game, don't you think?"

I shrugged. "You know me. I always push things."

Terry rolled on his side and looked at me, a cautionary expression in his eyes. Then he smiled. "At least you proved me right. You are one crazy woman."

I stroked his face and ran my finger down his chest, grinning inanely at the sheer pleasure of having him there. "That's what love does to you. Makes you crazy. I have to add that I think you've been acting pretty out of character of late too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You work it out. You're the smart guy."

"No. You tell me straight. I need to hear it."

I leant over his face and rested down to whisper in his ear. "I love you, Terry."

And he just sighed deep and low and kissed me.

Breaking apart, I suddenly had a thought. I get them- usually at the wrong time.

"You know, I don't think we've come up with a name for you yet, have we? Let me think." I pushed him onto his back and rested my chin on his chest. He gave me that slightly patronising look he does so well.

"Let me see? Goebbells - or should we spell that -Goebballs? Seeing as now you've joined the Nazi League?  How about Major Shag?  No, I've got it!!  Got to be. Captain Fantastic. Yeah. Captain Fantastic." I grinned up at him.

"I can live with that," he smirked.

"So can I. Good job, isn't it, Captain? Seeing as you're my number one!"