Sunday, January 29, 2012


SOL OCCAXUS (Sunset) Monday, 19 September, 2011

CREPUSCULUM (Evening Twilight)

I. Friday, 23 September, 2011
II. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
III. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
IV. Sunday, 16 October, 2011

VESPER (Evening Dusk)

I. Sunday, 23 October, 2011
II. Sunday, 30 October, 2011
III. Wednesday, 9 November, 2011
IV. Monday, 14 November, 2011
V. Monday, 14 November, 2011

CONCUBIUM (First Sleep – Coitus – Rest)

I. Thursday, 17 November 2011
II. Sunday, 20 November, 2011
III. Friday, 25 November, 2011
IV. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
V. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
VI. Thursday, 8 December, 2011
VII. Sunday, 11 December, 2011


I. Sunday, 1 January, 2012
II. Thursday, 5 January, 2012
III. Saturday, 7 January, 2012
IV. Monday, 16 January, 2012
V. Sunday, 29 January, 2012
VI. Sunday, 29 January, 2012


MATUTINUM (Dawn Goddess)

DILUCULUM (Dawn Twilight)

SOLI ORTUS (Sunrise)




When Caroline Mara reached her room, she showered for a very long time. After stepping out of the cubicle she draped herself in a huge bathrobe and moved into the bedroom. She lay down on the bed and, exhausted from the earlier hard tennis match with Rios, closed her eyes and was quickly asleep. It was nearly an hour later when she woke and immediately looked at her watch. She calculated that it must be nearly five in the morning in Spain but decided to telephone Michael anyway as she needed to talk to him. Their last conversation had left a pall of confusion hovering over her feelings. What the fuck did he mean by saying he had been doing some thinking? she wondered. “Thinking about what?” she said aloud as her hand probed around the floor for her electronic organizer. After locating Michael’s number she lifted the receiver and dialled. Caroline looked at her watch again.
A sleepy voice came on the line. “Halo. Hotel Palacio.
“I am looking for Doctor Mara.” Caroline spoke in Spanish.
“Hold on.” There was a repeating dial sound that rang unanswered for two minutes. “I am sorry Señora. There is no answer from his room.”
“Would you please check again? It is important,” she pleaded. “I’m telephoning from Mexico.”
“Señora, it is nearly five in the morning here. He must be in a deep sleep.”
“Please try again. I’m his wife and I need to talk to him. I will wait.”
It was nearly ten minutes later when the receiver was picked up again. “I am very sorry, Señora. Doctor Mara is not there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I went to his room. The bed has not been slept in. Perhaps he has friends in Granada or is travelling in the mountains. He told me yesterday that he likes mountains. We have beautiful mountains here,” the hotel voice said with awkward confidence.
Mountains my backside, Caroline thought as she struggled to restrain her annoyance. “Maybe. I don’t know. Thank you for your help. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“It’s not a problem. Will I leave a message that you telephoned?”
“Don’t bother . . . No, please do. Thank you. Write in the message that I called and will be at home, 4 p.m., Los Angeles time.”
“ 4 p.m. Los Angeles time. That’s done.”
“Thank you again. Good night.”
“Good night, Señora Mara.”

The connection terminated.
“Fuck you, Michael!” She shouted at the phone as she next tried calling Rod Mallory’s number in Los Angelus. It was answered by a male voice with a strong South American accent.
“I’m looking for Rod. Is he there?”
“And who is looking, may I enquire?”
“It’s Caroline Mara. Who are you? I want to speak to Rod.” Caroline shouted angrily down the line.
“Oh, Señora Mara. Rod said you might ring. My name is Roberto. I am a friend of Rod’s from Belize.”
“Where is Rod?” she asked impatiently.
“He said to tell you that he has gone to Europe for a few days. Something to do with a Swiss deal. He said to say he was sorry to miss the tennis tournament but that you would understand. He will be back on Sunday.”
“Blast it. Thanks Roberto. I’ll probably get a chance to meet you in LA with Rod sometime and I’m sorry that I shouted down the phone.”
“It’s no problem, Señora Mara. I will look forward to meeting you. Rod has told me a lot about you. You’re like a sister to him, he said.”
“Good night, Roberto.”
“Good night, Señora Mara.”
The bedside radio-clock showed her that it was nearly a quarter to nine. “What shall I do? What shall I doooo?” Caroline muttered as she got off the bed and paced across the room. She moved to the wardrobe and pulled the slide-door a little way along its track. Hesitating, she peered into the darkness for a moment, before shaking her head and fully sliding back the door. The automatic wardrobe light flickered on. Her hand moved to one of the hangers, and she gently rocked it back and forth. Suddenly the rail attachment mechanism accidentally released itself and a black cocktail dress, it had supported, fell in a heap to the floor. As Caroline stooped to pick up the crumpled dress she caught her reflection in the full-length corridor mirror. She looked at her half-crouched image for a long time before rising to her full height. She unravelled the dress from the hanger and held it against her chest. “Come on old girl. Snap out of it. Go for it! If Michael can be sneaking about so can you. Where the hell is he, anyway?” She looked once more at her reflection before she crossed the room to lay the dress out on the bed. She let the towelling-robe, she had been wearing, fall to the ground and humming to herself entered the shower cubicle again. It was quickly taken, this time, and as she dried off the beside telephone rang. It was exactly nine p.m. and she tried to contain a mounting excitement. Perhaps it was Michael, she thought and she walked into the bedroom and lifted the receiver. “Hello.”
“Yes, Diego,” she said as she recognised the deep voice.
“Are you still available for dinner?”
“I’m really not sure, Diego. I’m very tired and I might not be very good company.” Caroline smiled at herself in the mirror.
“Please, Caroline. You would do me a great honour.”
“Well if you put it like that Diego, how could I refuse? I am hungry.”
Magnifico! That’s great! I will meet you at the restaurant bar in say, ten minutes. Would that be okay? I know how you ladies like to take time getting prepared.”
“Do you now? I’m so glad to be in the hands of such an expert. I will be down in five. I’m not planning to go to much trouble.”
Caroline put the phone down. After dressing she attached a simple pair of black pearl pendant-earrings and complimented these with three simple gold bands on her right wrist. She then removed her watch and rings and placed them in her slim shoulder strap Chanel bag. As a final flourish she liberally dabbed perfume to her neck and wrists and to the cleavage of her breasts and was just about to lock the door of the room behind her when she stopped and rushed back to the bedside telephone. Picking it up, she dialled Michael’s hotel number again. The connection to Spain was quick.
“Halo. Hotel Palacio.” It was the same voice. Awake this time.
“It’s Señora Mara again. Has my husband returned yet?”
“No. I am sorry, Señora Mara.”
“Fine. Please tell him I called. Good night.” Caroline looked at the phone for a long time before she slowly replaced the receiver.

Commander Diego Rios was waiting at the bar. Seeing Caroline approach he shot out of his stool and rushed to meet her. “You look sensational. I will be the envy of every man here,” he gushed.
“Thank you, Diego,” she said as the Mexican kissed her on both cheeks.
“I hope you don’t mind, but the maître d’hôtel is a good friend and he has kindly arranged a table for us in one of the private balcony dining rooms. It has a spectacular view and the music filters up without intrusion. Would that be acceptable?” the policeman asked as he signalled to the manager who hovered near-by.
“Yes. Perfect,” she said with a little too much emphasis that made Rios smile. In that moment, Caroline realised, she had made her decision and he knew it and was relieved to see that there was no obvious sign of any of the others from the American delegation. They must have headed for the nearby town as planned, she thought as she followed Diego and the maître d’ along a side passage to a small door near the end of the room. They then climbed a short set of marble stairs to step out onto to a balcony that had been decorated with overflowing vases of different coloured roses. Petals were scattered across the floor as if they had been windblown. The dining table looked out over the bay and Caroline could hear the waves crashing onto the rocks nearby.
Rios, for his part, immediately moved towards the table and after removing a already opened magnum of champagne from a nearby ice bucket, began to fill two crystal flutes he held in his left hand. “Dom Perignon Brut Rose. 1982. I hope you like it.” He smiled as he proffered the half-filled flute.
Caroline accepted the glass and moving to the balcony looked out over the sea. The fragrant nose of the champagne wafted upwards. She sipped the pale crimson liquid and let it bubble across her tongue. The Mexican policeman was watching her closely. “They must pay the commanders of the Federal Police very well to afford all this, Diego,” she observed.
“I’m owed many favours, and have a very creative accountant. This . . .” He waved his hand across the room like a frontier farmer. “This I will hide deep in my expense account, although no man in his right mind would want to hide you, Caroline.”
Despite herself, she blushed. In the background, music of blended Arabic voice and Spanish guitar was haunting the night air. Accepting the chair that a waiter held out for her, she sat looking at the rising moon. “The music is lovely. What is it?” she asked.
“Listen to the words,” he whispered as he looked directly at her and translated the song:
Vivire para besarte. . . I live to kiss you
vivire para besarte. . . I live to kiss you
acariciar tu cuerpo. . . to caress your body
para poder amarte. . . so that I can love you
tu eres primito. . . you are the fountain
la fuente donde yo bebo. . . I drink from . . .”

“Very romantic Diego. Very over the top though! More of your arrangements?”
“Of course,” he said laughing. “It is from the combined talents of Rocio Alcala and Juan Martin on his album El Alquimista. I could not trust the hotel trio to replicate it and, as I wanted to express my sentiments, I arranged for the CD to be played.”
“Are you an alchemist then, Diego?”
“The only mystery about me, Caroline is a complete inability to dance. I say that in case you get carried away.”
She laughed as well, and remembering her earlier annoyance at the lack of choice in shoe selection, she now decided to slip them off to savour the coolness of the marble flooring against her feet. “I’m famished. What will we have to eat, Diego?”
“If you do not mind taking the risk, will you allow me choose for both of us?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound!”
“What did you say, Caroline?”
“Oh . . .nothing. It’s just an expression. Please go ahead and choose for both of us. I am now in your capable hands.”

Caroline relaxed and let the charged atmosphere between them determine its own course and she could feel the champagne, and the potent red wine that Diego had chosen, washing away any of her remaining inhibitions and caution. As the dinner plates were being cleared she found herself looking out over the balcony again. The moon was much higher in the sky and much brighter. If Michael is prepared to throw caution to the wind then there was no damn reason why she couldn’t, she reasoned. No damn reason at all! At that moment her foot suddenly touched Diego’s and felt a shiver of excitement in the pit of her stomach before she quickly moved her leg out from beneath the table and pretended to rub away an imaginary itch. She waited and then watched as the policeman shuffled his chair closer and bent down to gently lift her leg.
“You have beautiful ankles, Caroline,” he whispered as he pulled a rose petal out from the space between two of her toes and showed it to her. He used this to gently brush the dust from the skin of the sole. He then rested her foot on his chair between his legs.
Caroline did not withdraw her foot and instead, arched the toes forward to move slowly and rhythmically against his crotch. She felt his penis bulging beneath the linen cloth of his suit and she used her toes to delve below the underside of its hardness. Diego took her hand again and began kissing the tips of her fingers and was about to say something when the young waiter suddenly entered and immediately interrupted the mood and the opportunity. She quickly withdrew her leg from its nest between his legs and gave a slight cough as the waiter began to hoover the crumbs off the tablecloth. Rios’s face flared at the unwelcome disturbance and in a torrent of abusive language began to berate the cowering boy.
Wow!” Caroline spoke in a louder than necessary fashion to stop him. “That wine was very powerful, Diego. My head is spinning. What was it?”
“A 1991 Caymus Cabernet. I’ll order some more,” he said, expansively.
“Oh no! I have had more than enough.”
Rios’ anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen and he waved away the relieved waiter with an instruction to bring their deserts. “Once again I must apologise for my behaviour. It is my Latin temperament! I get too passionate at times. I just wanted everything to be perfect tonight.”
“I would not see that as a fault. You are quite a connoisseur?” Caroline touched his hand.
“You mean the champagne and the wine?”
“I have a small confession to make.” He held his hands up and a boyish grin softened his features.
“What is it?”
“I hope you won’t think me ignorant, but I did cheat a little. I love wine but can never remember one vineyard or vintage from another. I either like it or I don’t and I asked my friend, the maître d’hôtel, to choose.”
“Does that apply to women as well?”
“No! Never! With women I remember everything. Their clothes, their scent, their private noises, and the way they move and like to be moved. Everything!” He pushed out his chair and half-crouched, pulled it closer to hers.
“It sounds like there have been many.”
“Few as special as you, Caroline,” he deflected as he took her hand in his and massaged the fingertips.

The young waiter returned with deserts and this time Rios ignored him as he made a point of obviously releasing Caroline’s hand and letting his own slowly drift downwards beneath the table. He watched for her reaction as he found and then began to stroke the inner side of her thigh. For a moment she returned his look but then closing her eyes allowed her leg to swivel out from beneath the table, and lift to rest on his chair again. Once more she arched her foot forward to find his crotch. Her breathing quickened and she began to inhale in rapid short bursts. The young waiter couldn’t hide his embarrassment and Caroline opened her eyes just as he fumbled placing the plate in front of her. She smiled up at him and he nodded nervously before he turned quickly and rushed to leave the balcony. Looking down, she thought that the deserts were more like a cocktail than a desert. In each crystal bowl, a small scoop of crème-fresh ice cream floated on a generous pool of blue Curacao liqueur. Diego pulled his chair tight to hers. Content with their proximity, his fingers then searched for and found her ankle before they travelled, tantalisingly, back up her leg to glide around her thigh and move higher and higher towards the moist warmth of her groin. Caroline pressed her pelvis forward to allow him enter, her thigh pushed out against his. She felt his fingers slipping beneath the loose folds of the silk pants, she had chosen to wear and then his darting tongue, as he bent down kiss the skin of her knee. She dipped a finger in the pool of liqueur and tasted it. “Wow! More alcohol, Diego?” she groaned.
“These are very special deserts, Caroline,” he said as he looked up from her knee The liqueur will wash away any lingering taste of cayenne from the meal and allow the tongue to...”
Caroline hardly heard his words as she felt his fingers suddenly delve deep to finally find and begin to move rhythmically within her. She could feel the spasms beginning and fought for air. With a sudden and loud exhalation Caroline she pulled her legs together and pushed back her chair. “Phew! It’s very hot, Diego. Excuse me for a moment please. I need to use the powder room.”
“I understand.” He smiled. He stood up and coming around behind Caroline, held out her chair. “It’s over there,’ he said as he pointed to a small doorway at the far end of the balcony.
Caroline Mara shakily got to her feet and managed to compose herself a little before she walked barefoot towards the door. She pushed heavily against it and as it swung open, was relieved to find that the toilet cubicle was directly ahead. She entered quickly and locking the door behind her, sat down. “What are you doing, girl?” she asked aloud at the vague reflection in the green gloss paint of the cubicle door. What I want to! She thought. I want to feel desired, ravished. What harm would it do? She rationalised. There was red-blooded Mexican waiting to take her and she wanted to be taken. Her hands rested between her legs as she leant back against the cistern, breathing slowly. She could suddenly feel the warmth. Her toes arched against the cold tiled-floor. The spasms began again and this time she didn’t stop them, couldn’t stop them. “Oh God! Oh Godddddd!” she cried, as their intensity doubled her forward. She collapsed across her knees and it was some time before she could safely stand up.

Caroline left the cubicle and moved to the washbasin. After cleaning herself down, she checked and rechecked her appearance in the mirror before she applied a liberal sprinkling of perfume and returned to join Diego at their table. He looked concerned as he stood up and came forward to meet her. “Are you ok, Caroline? You were a long time and I was worried. You look flushed!” He held out his hand.
“I’m fine, Diego. Much better now, in fact.” She took his hand and allowed him to guide her back to her chair. He waited until she sat down before returning to his own chair, which during her absence she noticed, he had moved back to its original position. The ice cream desert had all but melted yet the taste was still superb and with renewed relish, she finished it all. She felt very relaxed and taking the initiative, started rubbing her leg against his.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I feeeeel great, Diego. What a woo…wonderful night.” Caroline felt pleasantly drunk again and slurred some of the words.
“Tell me about your husband, Caroline?” He asked.
“Must we talk about him? Michael is probably out sha . . . shagging a frustrated Spanish lab-rat with big tits, as we speak. Bunsen burners instead of candlelight! No, that’s unfair of me. He’s . . . he has probably talked himself out of the opportunity. Poor man!”
“You don’t sound happy?”
“No, that’s not true. We are happy, in a way. I love Michael but he doesn’t do it for me anymore. Sexually I mean. Isn’t . . . isn’t that really sad.”
“I cannot understand why, Caroline. You really are so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Diego, you . . .” She suddenly pushed back her chair and stood up to lean across the table and kiss the Mexican on the lips. Immediately her tongue slipped into his mouth and began to explore. He responded and she could feel his hands on her breasts before, to his very obvious surprise, she withdrew and flopped back into her seat. “God. I feel so dizzy . . . randy but dizzy.”
“Come, Caroline. I think you have had enough to drink. I’ll bring you back to your room.” He stood up.
Caroline waited for Diego to walk around. As she stood up, she leant heavily on his arm. Turning towards him she placed her free hand on his still bulging trousers and whispered into his ear, “No, my Mexican lover. Take me to yours.”
“Are you sure?”

By the time they had stepped into the elevator Caroline could feel the warmth in her pelvis rising again. Once the doors closed she watched his reflection in the polished mirrors and followed his eyes as his hand moved between her buttocks. Separating her legs slightly to allow him probe, she smiled mischievously as she watched his face change when he suddenly realised that she had discarded her silk pants. The spasms came quickly as the doors opened. Reluctantly she moved forward onto the corridor while he kept his hand where it was, toying with her. Reaching the door of his room, Caroline struggled to insert the key card he had handed to her. On the third try, she succeeded and once inside the room, turned and began to fumble at the buckle of his trousers belt. She couldn’t understand how uncoordinated she felt her movements were. Her head spun.
Diego Rios suddenly grabbed at her hands and holding the wrists pushed her away from him. “Not so fast, Caroline. I want to savour these moments for a while. Stand over there against the bed with your back to me,” he ordered as he closed the door behind them.
She glared at him in mock defiance before she turned and staggered towards the bed. She leant forward slightly to lean on the end board and looked back over one shoulder to watch him watching her. “Like this, lover?” she teased.
“Yeah. Now take off your clothes for me. Slowly,” he demanded
With a shaking hand she pulled the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders until she could lift out her arms. Swaying from side to side she then used one hand to tug at the hem of the dress until it just began to slide over her skin. Her breasts were suddenly free. She kept her back to him and placed her hands on her head. She enjoyed performing for him. With alternating rising and dropping movements of her hips she was able to make the dress slither down her body and legs until it finally lay in a discarded heap on the ground. Her hands then came to rest on her buttocks, and she gently prised them apart so that he could see all of her. “Did you like that, Diego?” She smiled back at him as he began to remove his trousers.
“Very professional.”
“You have only seen a glimpse of my hidden skills.”
“Show me more,” he demanded.
Caroline turned slowly and walked towards him. Stopping about a hairsbreadth away she leant forward and began tracing the line of his mouth with her tongue. He pushed forward sucking at her lips, biting at her tongue. Her hands had dropped and were moving slowly up the inside of his thighs. She felt his erection as it tried to burst itself free. His hands struggled with his belt. She gabbed his wrists and suddenly jerked them away. “I’ll do that lover. Its my turn!” She undid the belt and slowly pulled down the zip of his trousers. After releasing the top clasp, she inserted her hands between the skin and the material of his shorts and clumsily began tugging at them. His erection sprang free as she quickly pulled the shorts downwards towards the ground. His trousers followed suit to fall about his ankles. Looking up at him from her crouched position her tongue darted out to lick the underside of his penis. She straightened up, pausing to squeeze his testicles as his throbbing cock pushed against her skin.
Diego Rios was in a desperate hurry to pull his shirt off. Buttons popped and flew like bullets across the room. He pulled at her hair forcing her head back down to take him in her mouth. Caroline obliged and tried watched him with upturned eyes as she teased and licked the pink exposed tip before opening her mouth to draw in the shaft. Her hands massaged the lifted testicles, running back and forth to the rim of his anus. His back arched, his breath came in short bursts. She kept it going until he seemed about to ejaculate.
“Sancta Maria!” he cried.
“Not yet Diego. Not yet,” she instructed as she squeezed the back of his erection to cut off the blood flow. After a minute or so she pulled away and turned back towards the bed. “Did you like that, Diego?”
“If you fuck as good as you suck woman, then I am a lucky man,” he said coarsely.
She glanced back at him. The coarseness excited her even more. She increased the rhythm of the movements of her hips so that her firm buttocks began to rise and fall in time with her breathing. Rios moved in closer. His hands began at her neck and tightened and squeezed in a downward descent. He found her again and began to tease the skin apart. Her legs separated as she felt the building orgasm. It came quickly, wet, and then built again. He was pulling at her labia. Her knees buckled. “Quick, Diego. Quick. Take me! Fuck me now!” she pleaded.
“Good things come to those who wait, bitch!” he grunted as he stepped back and retrieved the thick leather belt from his trousers on the floor. He hung it around his neck as he slowly stood up and began running his hands along the inside of her thighs. He watched her quiver to his touch. Suddenly his hands moved to her breasts, crushing the soft tissue back against her ribs. He plunged violently into her from behind, his weight grinding her down against the bed.
Caroline felt the spasms cascade over her in one wave after another. She put her hand back and pulled at his hair. “Deeper. Go deeper!”
“Like this, you gringo slut?” He pulled away her hand.
“Yes! Oh God, Diego. Yessssssssssss!” she cried.
“You like it like that, don’t you, whore! Bark for me like the bitch in heat you are.” Rios suddenly withdrew and pulled the belt from around his neck. Swinging it in a wide arc he slashed her hard with the buckle end across the skin of her bottom. The mark of the metal instantly imprinted with a bleeding weal.
Caroline felt the sensations of pleasure suddenly evaporate. She was left with just the pain. She cried out as she turned to look at him. “Jesus, Diego, that hurt. What the fuck did you do that for.”
“Shut up, whore!” he shouted as pushed into her again.
Rios' movements became more and more brutal. Her breasts seared with the vice hold he had across her chest with. He was deliberately hurting her, she realised as she felt another searing pain scorch across her back. She managed to pull his hand off her breasts but suddenly found her head snapping back. With his now free hand he tugged at her hair. One of her earrings tore through the skin of her ear lobe as she shook her head trying to free herself. He bit into her neck. Caroline screamed, “Diego! Stop it! You’re hurt –
“Shut up, you slut. Take your fucking like the bruja you are.”
His hand came around to suddenly cover her mouth and nose. She was very frightened. She could not breathe and tried to pull away from him. He was still in her, driving her down, not letting her free. She felt him come. He went deeper and deeper. Her skin tore. She tried hitting back with her elbow. She bit at his hand. There was suddenly a noose around her neck. It tightened. She needed to breathe. Her head was spinning. She wanted to vomit.

Caroline Mara felt her urine running out as the darkness came.


The video-telephone link was of poor quality. The man pulled the jeep over to the side of the road. Trucks heading for the border roared past.
“Ali baik salaam” The voice link cackled.
“Who wishes to use our shade?”
“Is it done?”
“Not yet. It is set up for tomorrow night.”
“And the hourglass.”
“Will be on its way by courier to Corsica the day after.”
“Good. We are very pleased.”
“It is our duty to the inheritor of Kaya Rudbari.”
“You will find great reward in heaven.”
“Allah will not begrudge an earthly reward as well.”
“Of course. It is already lodged.”
Shukran, Sahib al-Sa‘igh.”
Ahlan wa sahlan, Sahib al-Sirr.”

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