The Prime Minister's Lady's Cigarette

Here I have to say Chancellor Lawrence von Adenauer.He is a well-educated aristocrat who graduated from the former United States Military Academy of the same name at West Point.He was old-fashioned, a political leader whom I had only grown to know in the year or two since I left the Prime Minister's wife.After he disappeared for half a year, he was declared dead, and the Federal President and the Imperial Council elected a new prime minister.

I don't intend to talk more about the Prime Minister's family affairs, but I have to say that when I am dying, I have to do something nasty.

Prime Minister Adenauer and the Prime Minister's wife have known each other since they were young, and they have supported each other to this day.They are tacit partners in the political arena, and they are also lovers in love.At that time, they envied others.They are so right, whether it is background or knowledge, quality of life and style of conversation.They are beyond the reach of the poor boy.

For a long time, I and everyone in the Prime Minister's Office who knew of my existence thought that I was the only consolation for the Prime Minister's wife after she lost her lover.To be honest, the cynicism of those insignificant people is not worth mentioning to the little gangsters who have been fighting with people on the streets since childhood.However, perhaps due to youthful arrogance and self-esteem or fear and cowardice, I was unable to ask the prime minister's wife the silly question of whether I was his replacement after losing his lover.

Fortunately, you cowardly low-class boys have the thick skin unique to people from the slums, and guard that delicate and precious wild rose with a shameless face.All my courage was given to me by the Prime Minister's wife, his unconsciously attached movements, soft hair, beautiful and soft lips, and eyes full of love when he was drunk.He gave me fantasy and courage. He never answered my questions directly, and I never dared to ask them.

The first time we made love, it was more than a month later, in the big gray bed where I slept with him.

That night, I was told by the butler Bancroft Cummings that the Prime Minister's wife would not be coming back tonight and that I should go to bed early.Of course, I would rest early in my own room, the room I slept in except for the first few days.Then, nimbly and carefully, your wise old hooligan slipped into the Prime Minister's wife's room, the code of which I had learned a week before.

But that night, the Prime Minister's wife came back.

In fact, I didn't feel much sleepy at first, and I opened my eyes when I heard some noises.

I saw the Prime Minister's wife leaning against the floor lamp post, holding a thin cigarette between her slender fingers. It was an amaryllis lady's cigarette. On this women's cigarettes.It was a very light-smelling smoke, but it tasted bitter with a hint of spicy.

The Prime Minister's wife loves cleanliness very much, and she is always calm and elegant. That night was the first time I saw him look a little embarrassed and vulnerable.He came in a hurry, his suit was thrown on the ground, his tie had already been undone, his neat shirt was undone with three buttons, his hair was already a little long, but he didn't comb it back as usual, but messed it up Elegantly pinned behind the ear, curled into a seductive arc.

He was so tired, even more tired than when we first met.The floor lamp is warm orange, but turned on the lowest brightness, a bit like the color of honey, with an ambiguous temperature.The lady's cigarette between his fingers gave off a slightly trembling light every time it touched his lips, which was so endearing.The hazy smoke blurred his expression, and I couldn't see it clearly.

"Sorry to bother you."

"I'm fine. Well, Mr. Housekeeper said you won't come tonight, but I'm not used to it, so I went to sleep here without permission." I didn't stop my words, looking stupid.

He smiled slightly, and shook his head nonchalantly.

"No problem." That was the answer to my question.

"Stay tonight." It was a request and a demand.

I don't know who kissed each other first, when the skin was in the air, I felt cold for no reason, bitingly cold.It is obviously a constant temperature, the most comfortable temperature for the human body, but I feel cold.So hug him even harder.

We kissed, the kind of lingering kiss, with determination and fantasy love.With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned the Prime Minister's wife's shirt, but I was too nervous and broke a shell button, leaving an ambiguous red mark on the smooth and fair skin.I kissed his body non-stop and finely, with some fascination, fear and shame like venting anger, and green love.At that time, I didn't know the pain and joy of sex.Mrs. Prime Minister guided me with mature charm, showing me how to embrace him, how to enter.

We had sex three times in total, once on the bed and once in front of the French windows, I held him in a very slutty position.His brows and eyes are full of pain and joy, and there are complex emotions in his half-hearted eyes that I couldn't understand at that time.For the last time, he let me enter with pampering and love for the child, even though he was already very tired, and his whole body was exhausted.

"Don't cry." His voice was hoarse and broken.

I don't know when my tears flowed down.He reached out and gently wiped my tears.

"You beautiful eyes, don't cry."

"I'm sorry." Who said it, I have forgotten.

Chancellor Lawrence von Adenauer was pronounced dead the next day.The biggest scandal in the Federal Republic.

I didn't know it at the time, because the Prime Minister's wife was sick the next day, but he still insisted on accepting interviews and handling state affairs.And after he left, I was severely taught by Mr. Housekeeper, that garbage was specially beaten in places where I couldn't see it, but I didn't lose too badly.

It's just that it was a month later when I met the Prime Minister's wife again.