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From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: To Live In a Factory, part three. (Last), (M/F+)
Date: Mon, 22 Dec 2003 05:10:02 -0500
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This is an adult story. If you are not allowed to read this stuff, you 
should get off now.
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To Live In a Factory, part three.

	by Spiller

	Next morning he spent setting up gear, sorting out the sheet music, which 
he had already printed in three copies, and planning for printing the 
missing pages. When he went to lunch, he brought his laundry to drop it in 
the containers. He had hardly sat down in the cantina when Sarah turned up.

	"Hi, Jonas. I have two messages for you. A gentleman called. He wanted me 
to tell you that your coffee lady is in hospital with a broken leg and a 
concussion. He said you would know who she is."

	"Oh, God, it has to be my kind old lady on the mountain. Did he tell you 
where she is?"

	"Yes, she's in a private clinic in Riva. This is the address." Sarah handed 
him a small note.

	Jonas started to get up from his chair, but Sarah stopped him. "Take it 
easy, Jonas, they will not allow visitors during the siesta, but her son 
will be there around half past three."

	"OK, I'll go and visit her, then. What is the second message?"

	"There is going to be a welcome-home party tonight. We have voted for a 
grill party on the roof, and everybody is going to be there. We hope you'll 
come."

	"How should I be able to say no?  By the way, is Andrea ready to resume my 
Italian lessons?"

	"Sure. Be ready at two o'clock, she'll be there." Sarah leaned over and 
whispered into his ear: "Don't take anybody over for the Siesta. Tonight 
you're going to need all the libido you can muster."

	So Jonas slept through the siesta, was awakened by efficient and cool 
Andrea for his lesson, and by three o'clock he rolled his Morgan out of the 
factory garage. At a florist's in Riva he purchased a large bouquet of 
roses, and on the stairs to the clinic he met a most grateful farmer. "I'm 
not at all sure mom would have survived her head-injuries, if you hadn't 
brought us the radios. She barely managed to call me; otherwise she might 
have stayed on the floor and bled to death."

	"Aahhh, my young Adonis.... you've been away for so long. Have you made 
some good music?"

	Jonas handed her the roses and squeezed her hand lovingly. "Yes, I made 
some unusual and exciting music. But now I'm back, and what am I going to 
do, now that I can't get my espresso and fresh buns? I was so scared when I 
received your son's message."

	"Ach, der... Oh, he's a great boy. And so are you, son. The two of you 
saved my life."

	"My mother will have to stay here for a couple of weeks, and then she'll 
have to rest for another month, they say. But I'm sure she'll want you to 
visit, and I'm also sure she'll make your espresso and bake the buns. The 
doctors here don't know what a  tough old mountain woman she is."

	"Certainly I'll want to visit. I'll come here a few times too. And, please, 
don't you scare us like this another time."

	"Ach, you sweet boy. I'd like to hug you, if I could. Now, off you go, back 
to all your young girls and leave this old lady so she can get some rest."

	Jonas patted her hand, smiled to her son, and soon he was on his way back 
from Riva. His house was very quiet when he returned. He managed to print 
out the rest of the finished score before he sat down on the terrace with a 
cool glass of wine. He had some thinking to do.

	He really had not given it a thought before: It was going to be difficult 
and time consuming, to get one of the established symphony orchestras in 
Denmark to perform his symphony. Perhaps he should spend a week or two going 
back to Denmark and try to `sell' his work. Finally he dozed off on the sofa 
with lovely images of horny women floating through his mind.

	Darkness was falling on the lake when he woke up, fully rested and in a 
very fine mood. In the shower he wondered what the women had cooked up for 
him. He felt sure they were planning on something special. His time in Italy 
had changed his view of women quite a lot. They were a lot more inventive 
and daring when they were together, than he would ever have guessed. And 
kinky! "Well, we'll see," he thought. He dressed in a pair of white slacks 
and a white polo shirt, which elicited a remark from one of the women in the 
lift to the roof: "Ah, the white knight visits us."

	Long tables were laid out with flowers and all, and everybody was there - 
including all the children. Once again he was very impressed by their good 
behaviour. Table manners were impeccable, and the two times some argument 
started, one of the bigger children got up and went to calm down the 
situation. Everything done in a kind and smiling way. He leaned over to the 
lady on his left, someone he had never talked to, but who had introduced 
herself as `Cecilia' - "and I don't speak English." In his budding Italian 
Jonas said: "In Denmark...many children...party....chaos." He was answered 
with a pearly laughter, and a lot of Italian words of which he only 
understood: lovely children.

	It dawned upon Jonas that someone was pulling his leg, because when he 
turned to the woman on his right, she didn't understand a word of English, 
either. When he looked round the table he saw Gina and Andrea sitting side 
by side, smiling at him and waving their hands. "All right," he thought, "if 
that's what they want I'll try to give it to them."

	I shall spare my readers any attempt to mimic his first dabbling in Italian 
conversation by writing in broken up, grammatically indecent, and generally 
lousy English. Annabelle, the lady on his right, was a kind, mature woman, 
probably in her mid forties, and she helped him along with her willingness 
to understand him, and her slow speech, which helped him a lot. Between them 
these two women kick-started Jonas on his use of the Italian language. They 
had a lot of fun, laughing good-naturedly at his many errors, and they 
actually let him feel a little bit proud, that he had become so good at it 
in such a short time.

	Time rushed by for Jonas. It was exciting to try his Italian, but it was 
exhausting, too. Suddenly it was way past ten o'clock, most of the children 
and some of the women had left the party, and Jonas saw Sarah approach him. 
He got out of his chair and hugged her, but she broke off very quickly. "Not 
here," she whispered. "If you go home in 10 or 15 minutes, there's a small 
party waiting for you."

	"You'll be there, too?"

	"No. This time you're on your own. Enjoy yourself." She kissed his cheek 
and was gone.

	In a way Jonas was disappointed that she was not coming, but on the other 
hand, his many weeks on Cape Horn with only three bearded Spaniards as 
company, had made him really horny and hungry for some good fucking.

	He did not at all feel let down, but certainly he was surprised and a 
little bit shocked, even if he had already experienced quite a lot in 
Arthur's house. When he entered his door he was met by the sight of 6 women 
in various models of slutty underwear, busy exciting each other with fingers 
and mouths. He recognized Rose in her usual stockings and suspenders, but he 
could only see her narrow back and her red hair, because her face was buried 
between Andrea's open thighs. He really hadn't expected to see his `teacher' 
at an orgy where a man was present. He also recognised one of the 
`slave-girls'. She was bent over the back of an arm-chair with one woman 
holding her down by her long hair, while two others were slapping her ass 
with their bare hands.

	When he entered the room, Rose raised her head from Andrea's pussy, 
glistening around her lips from Andrea's juice. "Hi, Jonas. Welcome to your 
welcome-home orgy."

	"Thank you, Rose, you all look totally ravishing." He unbuttoned his shirt 
and pulled it off. While he got rid of his trousers he asked her: "And what 
theme do you have for tonight?" He said this with a questioning look at 
Andrea.

	"Oh, tonight we don't really have a `theme'. We are just about the six 
kinkiest women in the whole place, and we are here to fuck the life out of 
you and of ourselves."

	"And I'm here to take good care of the women you're not fucking at the 
moment. Yeah, I saw your glance, Jonas." There was a lusty twist to Andrea's 
smile.

	Jonas reached out for Rose. Once more he wondered how her skinny, 
small-titted body could have that much sexappeal. She was all hot skin and 
bones, flaming red long curls and an abundant red bush. Her face was 
beautiful, but her body looked much too anorexic to his taste; and yet his 
cock jumped to attention the moment she took his outstretched hands. She 
dragged him to the sofa, pushed him down and climbed his thighs in one 
languid motion. Her thighs and her bush were slick with juice, and yet her 
cunt was tight and hot when she lowered herself onto him. Not like many 
other skinny girls, who have cunts like city gates. Rose was so much taller 
than Jonas, that when she leaned into him, her small, pointed tits were 
right in his face. He closed his mouth round her right tit and found her 
left one with his hand. For a while he caressed and kissed them, but when he 
bit and pinched her nipples at the same time, Rose moaned sexily and moved 
her slick cunt up and down faster and faster.

	He sensed how Andrea walked round to the back of the sofa and leaned in to 
kiss Rose. A shiver ran through her body, and even if she sat still for a 
moment, small trembling movements of her vagina kept Jonas excited. Suddenly 
Andrea broke her kiss, turned her head round and cried sharply: "Hey, 
slave-girl, come over here. We need you to lick Rose's ass while she fucks." 
He wished he could have watched, but Rose blocked the view. At least he felt 
how the woman knelt between his legs, and a moment later Rose let out a wild 
guttural scream. Jonas felt the contractions begin.

	"Hold her hips," Andrea snarled, while she grabbed Rose's arms. Between the 
three of them Rose had the longest and wildest orgasm. The slave-girl had 
trouble holding her mouth and tongue in contact with her asshole, but 
Jonas's fat cock got the sauciest massage it had ever received. Rose 
screamed and yelled for more than three minutes while orgasm upon orgasm 
tore through her skinny body. With sheer power of will Jonas managed to hold 
back his own come, all through to the last moment, when Rose let out her 
last wail and fainted.

	Andrea and the slave-girl lifted the unconscious Rose off him and placed 
her on the floor. Andrea stretched out beside Rose and cradled her head in 
her arms, waiting for her to regain consciousness.

Jonas noticed how Rose had showered him with juice. His thighs and lower 
belly were dripping wet. He called the slave-girl and ordered her to clean 
him with her tongue. When she had licked up all of Rose's juice she grabbed 
his cock and  swallowed it. Remembering her masochistic nature, Jonas 
slapped her cheek. "Oh, no, your mouth is not worthy of my cock." He turned 
round to the two women who were new to him. He caught the eyes of a 
tough-looking bleached blonde. She was an exotic sight: Her long hair 
evidently was bleached, because her trimmed bush was jet black. She was 
wearing very heavy make up, a black platform bra leaving her prominent 
nipples free, and stay up stockings. Several tattoos on her slim body made 
her look even more vulgar. "Hey, Snowwhite, would you like to suck me off? I 
don't want to come in the mouth of a slave."

"Of course." She sat down in the sofa beside Jonas. "Do you really want 
Snowwhite to suck you off? Why not my juicy cunt?"
By this time the slave-girl was crawling backwards, away from Jonas. He 
reached down and grabbed her hair and dragged her up close.

	"Oh, no. You stay here. Your mouth is unworthy, but your face will be a 
fine place so spray my jism, when Snowwhite makes me come."

	"Aahh, what a fine idea. Wait a minute." The second unknown woman left the 
chair, where she and Snowwhite had been spanking the slave-girl. "I'm 
Connie. Let me take care of her ass and cunt. I think she needs to be shown 
her place." She showed them two nasty looking dildos, which she inserted 
with no preliminaries. She rammed the fattest up the slave's cunt, and then 
she put pressure on the slim, black dildo, until it disappeared up her ass.
"Now she's ready," Connie smiled.

	"Play with my nipples," Snowwhite smiled, and I'll give you the best 
blow-job ever." She leaned over and wrapped her red lips round his cock. She 
had not been bragging. That woman knew how to give pleasure to a cock! Soon 
she had Jonas groaning from the exquisite sensations she sent through his 
body. A moment later Connie stopped jiggling the dildoes and started 
spanking the slave-girl instead. Hard and fast slaps rained on her ass and 
the back of her thighs. The sight of the slave-girl's face was too perverse 
for Jonas. The pain caused tears to fill her eyes and run down her cheeks, 
but through the tears a smile of happy fulfilment spread on her face.

	Jonas grabbed Snowwhite's long white hair, and he moaned: "Careful, now, 
I'm going to come." The only sounds in the room were the hard slaps and 
Jonas' groaning.

	A second before Jonas was coming, Snowwhite lifted her face from his cock. 
Her right hand moved fast on his cock while she panted: "Come on, Jonas, 
spurt on her. Flood her face."

	Five hard jets of sperm hit the slave-girl's face, her forehead, her eyes, 
her cheeks and her lips. With a whimper she showed how an orgasm hit her. 
She rolled over on her side, and with her hands she wiped the sperm all over 
her face and down her chest, while her knees were drawn up, almost into a 
foetal position. Her cramps pressed the dildo's out of her orifices, while 
she moaned again and again: "Thank you, thank you, thank you....."

	The sixth woman came in from the terrace, dressed in a blue, flowing 
negligee. "Hi, Jonas. What a fine show." She went up close to the 
slave-girl, who was still on the floor. Snowwhite whispered to Jonas: "She's 
Alberta; she's the slave-girl's Mistress."

	Alberta pushed the slave-girl with her foot. "Get up. You can go and shower 
now, and then you can leave. We don't need you any more."

	"Please, Mistress. Do I have to shower? Can't I take this home?" She 
pointed to her face and chest. "My cape is hooded, and no one will notice."

	Alberta looked round the room and was met with nodding heads. "All right. 
If you sneak up the kitchen staircase, I guess it's OK." The slave-girl got 
up from the floor, kissed her Mistress' hand, and was gone a minute later.

	Snowwhite let out a pearly laughter. "Alberta, I bet you that Jo and Anna 
will be all over her for the next couple of hours. Do you think she'll have 
anything left for you, when you get home."

	Alberta smiled at Snowwhite. "I certainly hope I'll get plenty here, so I 
won't need her, when I get home."

	The party was quite relaxed when Rose regained her consciousness. Snowwhite 
went to the bar and poured 6 glasses of Asti Spumante. "Let's take these to 
the terrace and relax a little."

	The night was surprisingly warm for a mountain lake, and the six almost 
naked people enjoyed the air and the faint sounds from the water. Snowwhite 
lifted her glass: "Jonas, I think you've given me a nickname. From tonight 
I'll proudly answer to `Snowwhite', even if my real name is Daniella."

	"How long time have you been working here," Jonas asked Snowwhite.

	"Right since your father changed his policy about this place. I guess that 
was about 12 years ago, wasn't it, girls?"

	"Yeah, 12 or 13, I don't really remember, and I really don't care, either." 
Alberta smiled at Snowwhite. "But I know I'll stay here until I'm carried 
out in a box, or I'm kicked out when my kids have finished their education."

	"Oh," Jonas said. "You have to leave when your kids can fend for 
themselves?"

	"Yes, to make room for another single mother, who doesn't want to marry one 
of the famous Latin Lovers."

	"Hip-hip, hooray, for Danish lovers!" Rose was all game again. "Those 
Italian boys just want another mother to push around and to do their cooking 
and laundry."

	"Yep," Alberta laughed, "and if you've got kids by some other guy, they'll 
tell you long tales about all the money they cost. All of it because they're 
jealous."

	Snowwhite looked around. Suddenly she spread her legs wide and started 
caressing her black, trimmed cunt. "Why all that talking? I thought we had 
come here to fuck Jonas." She turned her attention to Jonas, and patted her 
cunt. "How about this one? Would you like to try this really hot ermine's 
tail?"

	"You look very tempting." In three steps Jonas was between her legs and had 
rammed his cock all the way to the bottom.

	"Ooohhhh, and you are very big! God, you feel good!"

	"Daisy chain, daisy chain," someone chanted.

	"Yes, in the bedroom." There was a lot of rustle and footsteps, and 
suddenly Jonas and Snowwhite were alone on the terrace.

	"Oh, God, Jonas, I'm so close to coming. Please, fuck me, faster, 
faster....." Her heavily made up face was distorted with lust, and tears of 
pleasure were forming in her eyes. She folded her hands behind his neck and 
swayed her back to get closer to him, while she humped her cunt towards his 
pelvis each time he hit her. Juice gushed round his cock, and suddenly she 
almost hyperventilated. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and she crossed 
her legs behind his ass, holding him in a tight grip while the orgasm cursed 
through her body. Jonas decided that he would try to hold back, even if the 
contractions of her vagina felt even better than the blowjob she had given 
him earlier. When the contractions died down her legs slumped to the floor, 
and her strangling hold round his neck relaxed.

	"Wow, you're good, Snowwhite. Not only pretty, but so hot." He leaned in 
and kissed her.

	"Yeah," she laughed, still short of breath. "And you're not half bad, 
either. Go and join those horny women in their daisy chain."

	Actually Jonas was very curious to learn what a `daisy chain' was. He had 
never heard the word, but he soon learned to appreciate it. The four women 
formed a big circle on the huge bed, each with her head buried between the 
legs of the next woman. The only sounds were slurping tongues and groans of 
lust.

	He looked down on them for a moment, then it became too much. "Hey, ladies, 
I hate to stop a good thing, but I've got this hard problem which has been 
all alone for seven weeks. Anyone care to help me?"

	There was some rustle on the bed, and a few frustrated protest. Andrea 
pointed to the other three: "Make your choice. I'm sure they are all 
willing."

	Rose was the first: "I'm sure Connie and I can bring your problem down. 
Then Andrea can prepare Alberta for an `Arthur Revival'."

	"Wow, will you do that, Andrea?" Alberta's eyes were bright and shiny with 
lust. "That would be so great."

	Connie grabbed his hand and pulled him down on the bed. When she placed her 
feet on either side of him, Jonas could look up upon an utterly luxurious 
body, as pretty as Marilyn Monroe had had. "Help me, Rose, I want him to hit 
home in his first try." While Connie slowly bent her knees, Rose spread her 
cuntlips wide with one hand, while she took hold of Jonas' solid cock and 
guided it in. A hot, wet and tingling Heaven descended upon him. For a 
moment she leaned down and kissed him eagerly. It was wildly erotic that her 
face tasted of some other woman's juice, and for a short second Jonas had to 
concentrate on some mathematical equation in order not to come immediately.

	Rose was kneeling beside them. Now she reached in with both hands, the left 
hand to diddle Connie's clit, and the right hand to fondle her asshole. A 
little later Jonas felt Rose's finger slip up Connie's ass, and hell broke 
loose. "Just enjoy, Jonas, this whore can come for the longest time, and I'm 
sure you'll love it."

	For more than three minutes Connie was whimpering and crying, making small 
and fast movements up and down his pole, but the exquisite thing about it 
were the contractions of her hot cunt. Jonas felt as if his cock was buried 
in a silken jacuzzi. A major orgasm was building in his cock and in his 
mind. Connie's beautiful body and Rose's manipulations got to him, and while 
he roared like a bear he spurted up into the hot cunt.

	Connie stayed on top of him, while he fell back on the bed and relaxed with 
closed eyes. Through the haze of his satisfaction he heard Rose say: 
"Andrea, are you soon ready with your `Arthur's Revival? Jonas will soon be 
ready to try it."

	Now they had Jonas curious, but he could see nothing. Rose and Connie 
blocked his view. A little later his cock had diminished to a limp third of 
its former pride, and with a little wet plop it fell out of Connie. When she 
rolled off Jonas she moaned: "He's ready, girls, you take him."

	Jonas lifted his head and saw the weirdest sight. Alberta was on her back 
with her legs spread wide, and Andrea had her hand buried in her snatch, 
fistfucking her slowly.

	"Come, Jonas, you've got to try this." While Rose dragged him towards 
Alberta, Andrea pulled out her hand. The sight of Alberta's stretched, 
gaping hole, was not the prettiest in the world, but Rose and Andrea guided 
him in between Alberta's thighs and fed his limp cock into that wide open 
gash. It just dropped in, and really Jonas was a bit disappointed: He could 
not feel a thing. Rose and Andrea placed their hands on his behind and 
applied a slight pressure, just to make sure he would not pull back. "Just 
wait," Andrea mumbled, "you're going to like this."

	"Tell Snowwhite to bring the champagne," Rose said, and soon they were 
quite a weird sight: Alberta lying absolutely `dead', with her eyes closed 
and Jonas between her thighs, Rose and Andrea holding down his ass, and 
Connie and Snowwhite bringing round glasses of champagne for everyone except 
Alberta. The four women chatted and laughed as if this was the most natural 
position in the world. Jonas sipped of his champagne and soon put in little 
remarks in the conversation. Suddenly he went dead silent.

	"Here we go, Rose laughed." Slowly and softly Alberta's stretched cunt was 
closing in on his limp cock. He felt the soft, wet walls touch the sides of 
his cock; then slowly a silky pressure, and a little later a gentle, milking 
movement, which caused his cock to grow an inch. The whole scene was 
absolutely hilarious. Alberta who was limp and dead to the world, except for 
her cunt which was creeping in on him, and the four other women chatting 
away and sipping champagne, as if this was the most natural thing in the 
world.

	A tingling sensation on the underside of his cock made it grow another 
inch, and slowly the two opposite movements made Jason terribly horny: His 
cock was growing and Alberta's cunt was contracting towards normal size. At 
last he could not stay calm, and he made the tiniest movements in and out of 
Alberta.

	"Ahhh, what was good for the father works for the son." Rose bent down and 
kissed Jonas. "It's very proper that you should try this with Alberta. She 
was the one who invented it for Arthur. Is it good?"

	"God, you horny cow. It's crazy. My cock is so terribly hard. Is she going 
to play dead all the time?"

	"Yes, she loves it that way. The only way we can `wake her up' is very 
special."

	"Tell me, damn it. I'm so horny that my cock is hurting."

	"All right. Pull out for a minute." Soon Jonas was sitting on the bed with 
his impressive tool stretching up his belly. Rose turned round. "Come on, 
girls, let's get her out on the bathroom bench."

	Andrea and Connie supported the limp Alberta by her arms, and soon she was 
lying open-legged with her ass pulled out to the edge of the low bench. 
Snowwhite guided Jonas up between her thighs, and when he knelt on the 
floor, Alberta's sopping cunt was right in front of his swollen cockhead. 
Snowwhite guided him in, while Connie straddled Alberta's belly with a horny 
grin on her face.

	"Brace yourself," Snowwhite whispered into Jonas' ear, "this is real 
kinky." While Jonas started fucking Alberta, Connie reached down and spread 
her cuntlips with her fingers. A hot, yellow stream of piss sizzled out of 
her, and hit Alberta's belly and her mons. Alberta woke up with a scream. 
"Oh, fuck, you horny bitches. You know I can't stand it. Aaahhhh, oh God, 
fuck, fuck, fuck." She was humping around on the low bench.

	"Hold her thighs, Jonas. We'll hold her arms." Jonas locked his arms around 
Alberta's knees and squeezed them hard against his hips. He felt splashes of 
Connie's hot piss hit him where he was joined with Alberta. He had never 
tried anything so kinky, but damn how he liked it! The minute Connie had 
finished, Andrea straddled Alberta's face and let go of a hot stream, which 
she guided with the fingers holding her cuntlips apart. She sprayed Alberta 
all the way from her forehead, down her nose and mouth, to her jiggling 
breasts. Alberta was coming all the time, screaming and groaning, while 
cramps were running through her body. Jonas wondered how it was possible, 
that her cunt, which had been such a stretched hole, was now squeezing his 
cock like a vibrating vice. Andrea bent her knees and rubbed her cunt all 
over Alberta's face while the last drops seeped out of her.

	When she stepped away, Rose took over. She placed her feet beside Andrea's 
ribcage. She looked unbelievably tall as she towered over Jonas and Andrea. 
With a wicked smile she brought her hands to her red bush and asked Jonas: 
"Would you care for a little shower, too, Sir?"

	Jonas had not answered her question when she let go. An impressive gush hit 
his belly, then his groin, then Alberta's belly, and last her quivering 
tits. That was too much for Jonas. A rush of perverted images flew through 
his brain, and he could not help it; with a loud roar he started coming. He 
fucked and he came, he fucked and he came, until he collapsed on top of 
Alberta.

	Snowwhite pulled him off and told Rose and Connie to take him to the 
shower. Andrea helped Snowwhite to pull the screaming Alberta down on the 
floor. "Stretch your legs," Snowwhite snarled. "No, up in the air." When 
they were stretched to her satisfaction Snowwhite stepped in between them 
and quickly lowered her cunt to cover Alberta's. She had just clamped her 
own vagina down on Alberta when she started pissing. Some overflowed, but 
some was pressed up into Alberta, which made her scream and come a last 
time. With a pitiful whimper Alberta let her legs fall to the floor. A small 
stream of Snowwhite's piss seeped out of Alberta while she moaned: "Oh, God, 
no more, no more. I can't take any more."

	A lot of laughter and splashing of water came from one of the shower 
stalls. Rose poked her head out and laughed: "We really got our Danish lover 
boy, girls. He had never imagined we could be so kinky."

	"Wait a second," Andrea smiled. "We'll hose down Alberta and the floor, 
then we'll join you."

	When they had finished cleaning up, the three women piled into the stall to 
the others. A lot of hands with a lot of soap and a lot of laughter brought 
them all back to reality. Suddenly Andrea went very quiet. She looked at 
Jonas for a moment, then she said in a very low voice: "Jonas, you are very, 
very special. You are the first man in many years I've wanted to feel 
against my naked body. Will you hold me a minute?" A little later, while the 
water from the shower was still running down all of them, she let go of 
Jonas, got up on her toes and pressed a loving kiss on his cheek. "Thank 
you, Jonas, that was lovely."

	Rose wanted to fill the jacuzzi and for them all to pile in, but she lost 
the vote. They were all very exhausted and very satisfied, and the only 
thing they wanted was to go to bed. Rose was the first to get dressed. She 
gathered the glasses and dumped them in the dishwasher, and soon the 
beautiful house by the lake was quiet.


Chapter two.

	The next couple of weeks brought Jonas more than three minutes into his 
finale, and once again he began to contemplate how he would get his symphony 
performed. A few phone calls to different agents in Copenhagen were not very 
successful. Of course he knew that the big orchestras had very long 
schedules, but it was quite discouraging to be told, that he should probably 
have to wait at least three years, maybe four, if his symphony was accepted.

	He burned a bunch of CDs with the music he had finished, packed the printed 
scores, and made ready for the drive north. He told Sarah that he would try 
to visit the conductors of some of the major symphony orchestras in Denmark. 
Maybe that would help.

	He called his brother Jonathan to announce his arrival in Copenhagen.

	"How wonderful. We have left your rooms untouched after we took over the 
house, so we hope you'll stay with us while you're here."

	He did not explain to Jonathan the nature of his business, but of course he 
told Sarah. They said their sad goodbyes, and 20 hours later Jonas parked in 
front of `the house'. He was met on the stairs by his pretty sister in law, 
Helle, and their lovely daughter Kis. Not until they hugged and kissed did 
he realise how much he had missed his family. Jonathan was at the factory, 
but he had promised to be home for dinner.

	There was a terrible lot to be told, and unknown events to be explained, 
and even if Jonas was very tired from the long drive, he did not go to bed 
until around 11. The next day he was at the telephone the whole morning. 
Most conductors did not want to see him or his music. They wanted him to 
contact them via an agent. Only the conductor in Odense seemed interested, 
and they scheduled a short meeting the next day, Friday. He leafed through 
the score, stopped here and there for a few minutes, and then turned to 
Jonas.

	"This looks very interesting. When you have finished the whole work, I want 
you to send it to me. I shall study it closer then, and if I think it will 
fit into our plans, we may perform it in three, maybe four years."

	Over dinner Friday night Jonas was downright moody and discouraged. 
Jonathan and Helle did all they could to cheer him up. "Hey, little brother, 
would you please play it for us? I mean, what you have finished up till now? 
I'd love to have an idea of what you are doing."

	When Kis had been put to bed, they settled down in the big living room, and 
Jonas put the CD on the player.  With hot coffee and fine cognac on the 
small tables, and Jonas' symphony filling the room, their spirits gradually 
eased up.

	When the last notes of the third part died down, Helle got up from her 
chair and kissed Jonas' cheeks several times. "This is fantastic, Jonas! I 
never knew you could write such wonderful music. It has such strong 
emotions. It's really great."

	"I can't imagine that they will not take this music," Jonathan said. "You 
know, I haven't got the talents that you and mother had, but I certainly can 
hear, that this music is great, and that it is very special."

	"I think one of the orchestras will take it up, but the problem is the long 
time it will take. You know me, Jonathan. I'm not a patient and planning 
man. If I have to wait four years for an audience reaction, I'm sure I'll 
get moody and loose my drive. I'm afraid I won't get anywhere with a second 
symphony."

	"Jonas. The best you can do right now is to finish this work and then leave 
it to one of the agents to `sell' it. It's no wonder that you are so filled 
up with this first symphony, but I think the only way to get on with your 
composing is to finish it, leave it to someone else, and start a new."

	"I know, Jonathan, I know. And like always you're the sensible one and I'm 
the emotional one."

	"That's why I produce margarine and you write symphonies, little brother. 
I'm so proud of you."

	They talked late into the night, and slowly the initial disappointment 
seeped out of Jonas. He spent the next couple of days visiting old friends 
and relatives, and Friday night Jonathan and Helle threw a large party. 
Saturday the weather changed. The first hints of the upcoming fall and 
winter hit Denmark, and Sunday morning Jonas was happy to load the small 
Morgan and hit the road.

	He had just entered the German motorway system, when he changed his mind 
and turned left, speeding into Poland. The roads were miserable, but driving 
was a lot of fun, and it became even better when he entered Czechoslovakia 
and stuck to the small mountain roads going south. He found small inns where 
he could spend the nights, and his head filled up with some of the most 
beautiful views of Europe. Instead of his usual 16-18 hours he took four 
days to get back home, but when he rolled up in front of Arthur's house late 
Thursday night, he was fully restored and ready to attack the finale. 
Actually he went directly to his keyboard and composed and arranged two 
minutes of bubbly, vivacious music for this allegro. They turned out so good 
that he decided to throw out the first three minutes he had composed before 
he went to Denmark. By four o'clock in the morning he fell asleep on the big 
round bed, and he did not even get out of his clothes.

	At eleven o'clock in the morning he woke up because someone opened his 
bedroom door. When he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he looked up 
into Anna's pretty face. She still had that look of innocence, framed by 
soft, black hair.

	"Good morning, sleepy-head. We were afraid you had died."

	"I worked very late last night."

	"God in Heaven, Jonas. Have you looked at yourself lately?"

	"No, I'm not in the habit of staring at myself. What's the matter?"

	"You are terribly dirty and all covered in dust. Look what you have done to 
the bed! Will you get out of those dirty clothes at once. You can go and 
have a shower while I take the bedcover and your clothes to the laundry."

	"No chance of a good-morning hug?"

	"NOT the way you look now. Maybe when you've cleaned up."

	After the shower Jonas put on the coat which Anna had embroidered. "Am I 
sufficiently clean now, pretty? For a hug?"

	"Yes, you certainly look and smell a lot better. How on earth did you get 
so dirty?"

	"My car is an open sportscar, and I rode small mountain dirt-roads all day, 
yesterday."

	"Oh, I see." She stepped up close. She looked so small and frail, and yet 
Jonas knew how hot she was. He put his arms round her petite body, and Anna 
hugged his waist and pressed her face against his chest. She let go of his 
waist and stepped over to the low bench. She climbed up to stand on it and 
waved him over. "I want to kiss you, but I don't want to break my neck," she 
smiled.

	"And you're not afraid of me any more?"

	"I was never afraid of you, but I had not had a lover for years, and I had 
forgotten all about the `mechanics'. And then Rose and the others were just 
a bit too much. That was why I seemed reluctant."

	"You're not reluctant any more?"

	"Heavens, no. I think I've been horny ever since."

	"And now?"

	"And now! Please stop talking and make love to me instead. We haven't got 
that much time. They are expecting us for lunch."

	She jumped down from the low bench, snapped the belt of his coat open, and 
ran to the bed while she shed her clothes, which consisted of only a skirt 
and a T-shirt. She was an incredibly contradictory sight as she lay down. 
Her tiny, almost teenage-like body with her pubic hair shaved off, the 
old-fashioned innocent expression on her pretty face, in contrast to her 
vulgarly open thighs and her glistening pussy lips.

	When Jonas lay down beside her, she dragged him up between her thighs, and 
with shaky hands she fumbled for his cock to guide him in. "Oh, Jonas, come 
into me. No foreplay. I've done that to myself this last week." The ease, 
with which his big cock slipped to the bottom of her in one stroke, bore 
witness to that statement, and so did the speed with which she achieved her 
first orgasm.

	"Wow. You really did play with yourself, didn't you?"

	"Every day," she panted, "and every night. I've longed so much for you. 
Come on, fuck me, I'm not made of porcelain." Her eagerness, and the hot, 
slick cunt which enveloped him, soon brought Jonas to the brink. Apparently 
she felt his oncoming orgasm. "Yes, yes," she groaned, "fuck me and come in 
me. I'll come with you.  E-e-e-e-ooooo-w-w." Her pretty face had been 
distorted in passion, but suddenly a heavenly smile broke out, while her 
wrinkled forehead went back to its smooth beauty.

	"Oh, Jonas, it was even better than I dreamed of." She rolled out from 
under him, pushed him round on his back, and lowered her mouth to his cock. 
"I've better clean this one so you don't smell too much at lunch." Her 
little, pointed tongue laved his shrinking cock. "A pity you can't taste 
this mix. It's delicious. I never thought I'd like it, but Rose and Gina 
taught me to love the taste of pussy."

	"You naughty girl. Of course I can taste it. Turn round and give me your 
pussy. Can't have you smell all over the cantina, either, can we?"

	The taste was exquisite, and Jonas was on the verge of getting horny again.

	"No, no, dear. Now we get dressed and we go to lunch. You have many days to 
answer for. They are all curious where you have been."

	Jonas did not tell about his disappointment conserning the symphony, but on 
the other hand he had a lot of fun out of telling about fast driving on the 
narrow gravel roads in the mountains of central Europe, and of the last days 
of summer in Denmark. He noticed Andrea at one of the other tables.

	"Hi, Andrea. I've slept so late that I don't need a siesta. Is there any 
way I can persuade you to give me my Italian lesson now, so I can be in Riva 
and visit my mountain lady when the siesta is over?"

	"Sure." She smiled. Their lesson had turned into a pleasant and funny hour, 
as well as an effective one. When she left Jonas turned on his computers. 
Quickly he erased the first part of the finale; then he copied what he had 
composed the night of his arrival, to another part of the harddisk, and made 
ready to make a new start.

	His lady of the mountain was very happy to see him. "My son is so busy 
getting the farm ready for the winter, so he hasn't been her for three days. 
But he'll come tomorrow to take me home."

	"I thought you were going to stay here for yet another week."

	"Ach, Adonis,...my head is terribly solid, and I may as well stay in bed at 
home. I like that better. There is no danger any more, and my leg is going 
to be in a cast for another five weeks. I'd rather stay in my own bed and 
look out on my own mountains. Do you understand that?"

	"I think I do. My great grandfather was a farmer. He was very uncomfortable 
whenever he had to go more than two miles from home, and he would never 
sleep anywhere else."

	"Ah, he would have made a fine mountain farmer." They chatted away for more 
than an hour, before Jonas made ready to go. "You can give me a hug today, 
my head is not going to break," she smiled. They said their heartfelt 
goodbyes, and Jonas promised to visit in a couple of days.

	"But I shall not be able to bake your buns or make your espresso," she 
said.

	"No, but then I can bake you some Danish pastry and make you a cup of 
Danish coffee. Arrivederci."

	"Auf wiedersehen."


Chapter three.

	For three weeks Jonas worked hard on the finale, and he was more than 
satisfied with the result. The inspiration from that long, dusty night, 
held. The result was a bubbly, funny, elegant dance of notes, which was such 
an immense contrast to the wild third part; precisely the contrast he had 
imagined.

	He finished the three printed scores and copied three CD's with the 
recorded music. One set he sent to the agent, who had seemed most 
enthusiastic about his work, the other set he sent to Jonathan, to listen to 
and to keep in his company safe. And one late afternoon in October he 
brought the third set to Sarah's office, to ask if she would keep it in the 
factory safe.

They had a long talk about the emptiness he felt. His great work was 
finished, but in a way he felt like a mother must do, if she has carried a 
baby for nine months and then has to leave it to other people.

	"Can I ask you a favour," Sarah asked.

	"Oh, yes. I'll see if I can grant you one."

	"You know very well that everybody here has followed your work, and we are 
all terribly curious about it, and me not the least. Is there any way we 
could persuade you to arrange a CD-consert, where you play it for us?"

	"Are you sure they'd like to hear it? It is very modern, you know."

	"Italians know a lot more about music than most other Europeans. I'm sure 
you'll have a lot of happy listeners."

	"OK, let's try. I'm not so sure, but if you say so. When will we do it, 
then. Friday or Saturday evening?"

	"Let's say Saturday . If we schedule the concert for 7 o'clock, we can have 
dinner when it's finished. Will that suit you?"

	"Of course. That's what we do."

	For the next few days Jonas felt terribly empty. He went for long rides in 
his Morgan, and he had nearly killed himself. He was climbing a tall 
mountain, and when he turned a hairpin curve at high speed, he discovered 
too late, that a small layer of the first snow was spread over the road. He 
praised the excellent geometry of the Morgan, which enabled him to keep the 
car on the slippery road. In any ordinary car he would have slid off the 
road and fallen hundreds of feet down. When he had brought the car to a halt 
he sat for several minutes to let the adrenalin seep out of his body.

	Saturday afternoon he went to see Sarah. "Do you have a CD player in the 
cafeteria?"

	"We have arranged for a very fine set, never fear."

	At six o'clock Jonas went to the cafeteria to check the sound system. He 
was very surprised to see Bruno in the cafeteria. "How on earth have you 
been allowed in here?"

	"Hi, Jonas, I love you too! Ha, ha. Sarah called me and asked if I could 
lend them a first class set for your concert. Look at those loudspeakers." 
He pointed at two columns of first class gear, similar to the stuff you'd 
find at a festival. "This gear will fill the room with clear and powerful 
sound. And I'll have a chance to hear what you've been doing with that 
Yamaha."

	"You are most welcome, Bruno. I was just surprised, because they usually 
are very adamant about men in their private areas."

	"I guess I'll have the same status as a blacksmith or a carpenter who is 
called here to repair something."

	Jonas checked out the sound of the first few bars, and he was really 
impressed. "This is great, Bruno. Let's go to my place and have a drink. We 
have plenty of time." While they enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine, Jonas 
told about the long time it would take, before he'd be able to hear his own 
music performed by a symphony orchestra, like it should.

	"Not much different here. Well, if you've got `connections', or if you are 
able to `grease' the right people, you could probably bring the time down to 
a year."

	When they entered the cantina at close to seven, Jonas was surprised to see 
the room almost filled with people. 15 of the oldest children were there, 
too. He went up to the small platform, where Bruno had placed the sound 
gear, and took out a small note. He had prepared his first speach in 
Italian. He told them how much they had meant to his work, how they had 
given him such ideal working conditions, and it was only proper, that they 
would be the first to hear the result. He made excuses for the fact, that 
the music they were going to hear had been recorded from a keyboard. In real 
life the music would be more detailed and the sound would be better. This 
little speech elicited a great applause, and then he turned round and 
pressed the button. When the first intricate bursts of rhythms played by 
full orchestra at forte fortissimo were kicked out of the loudspeakers, even 
Jonas himself was surprised and impressed.

	He went down to his seat between Sarah and Bruno. He sat down and closed 
his eyes and concentrated on listening. In the short break between first and 
second part the audience started applauding and yelling. Jonas was 
surprised, because that is never done in Denmark, but this was Italy. He 
jumped up and pressed the stop button, just before the second part would 
start. When the applause had died down he started the andante cantabile. 
Halfway through he felt Sarah's hand searching for his, and they listened to 
the rest of that part, hand in hand. This time he was prepared and stopped 
the CD player in time, to let the applause take its time.

	The wild sounds of the third part were a big surprise for the audience. He 
felt how the whole room got tense, sometimes scared, and almost breathless 
during the short ice cold spell with only shrill strings and a steady, 
rumbling rhythm, until the `storm' blew up again. This time the applause 
would hardly take an end. At last he pressed the start button even if they 
were not yet completely silent. The playful and gay finale changed the mood 
of the audience. There were smiling faces all over, and a lot of people were 
nodding heads, moving hands or shuffling feet. This time Jonas didn't stop 
the CD player when the music ran out. He closed his eyes and for a moment 
just enjoyed the feeling of fulfilment, while applause and loud cries 
surrounded him for several minutes. At last he got up from his chair and 
faced the audience to take a bow. This brought the applause to new heights. 
At last he raised his arms in a sign of silence, and the noises died out. 
Then he made his second speech in Italian. This time not prepared, and quite 
sporadic, but they understood what he said: "Thank you to all of you. 
Remember, you all have a small part in this symphony. And now we've better 
clear the room, so it can be changed back to a normal cantina and we can 
share a nice meal."

	People were milling around him, and a cacophony of words of praise 
surrounded him. At last Bruno reached him. "That was bloody marvellous, 
Jonas. Marvellous. You're quite a genius if I may say so. I'd never have 
expected to hear such great music in a margarine factory in Northern Italy. 
I predict that next time will be in a concert hall in Rome or London."

	Sarah came up. Her beautiful, dark eyes were shining, and little tears were 
on the verge of rolling down her cheeks. "I can't say anything, yet, Jonas. 
I just want to kiss you and hold you for a second."

	Supper was a most talkative affair. Jonas had to answer all kinds of 
questions, and at the tables around him everybody was discussing the 
symphony. Jonas invited Bruno for a drink in Arthur's house, but 
unfortunately he had to take down the gear, as it was needed for an event in 
Verona the next day.

	Shortly after ten Jonas whispered to Sarah: "I'll go home now. I hope I can 
persuade you to pay me a visit later, when people have gone."

	"I would have come, even if you hadn't invited me, dear. If anybody asks, 
I'll say you were tired."

	Back at his house Jonas walked out on the terrace. A cool wind was coming 
down from the mountains, and he really enjoyed to feel it after the heat and 
the emotions of the evening. Later on Sarah joined him in the evening cool. 
"I really had trouble warding them off," she laughed. "A lot of the girls 
were ready to throw a major orgy in your honour."

	"Thank Heavens you stopped them. I would not have been able to handle that 
tonight."

	"I guessed so."

	When Sarah started shivering from the cold, they went inside. She sat down 
in the corner of the sofa, while Jonas mixed a couple of Galliano/coffee 
drinks for them. A little later Sarah guided him to lie down with his head 
in her lap. She caressed his hair and bent down to kiss him.

	"It was a wonderful symphony, Jason. So filled with strong emotions. I just 
had to hold your hand through the andante cantabile. And that fearful third 
part. I can see why you couldn't be inspired for such power in these 
peaceful surroundings." She cradled his head and lifted it up, so she could 
kiss his eyes and his lips. Later they talked far into the night, and for 
the first time Sarah heard about his frustration over the long time it would 
take him to hear the music as it was meant to be heard.

	When they finally got to bed, they made love with such caring and emotion 
that it almost hurt.

Chapter four.

	About a week later, a small group visited Jonas. A tall, slim woman, who 
Jonas knew to work in the laboratory, but otherwise knew nothing about, was 
the spokeswoman. There were two men in the group, as well.

	"You probably don't know about it, Jonas, but we are 8 women in the 
factory, who are members of a ballet group in Verona. Have you noticed, when 
you drive down through the Brennero, there is a very beautiful Roman 
building on a mountaintop close to Lago di Garda? It is kind of a round 
temple consisting of only pillars and a roof."

	"I've seen it. It's very beautiful, and the location is wonderful."

	"Yes. Now to the question: For some years our ballet-group has talked about 
performing a ballet there. We have ideas of fauns and nymphs, dancing a 
mixture of age-old rituals and ultra modern mating overtures, like you see 
them in discos today. The performance should take place by night, lit by 
strong lamps and fires, while the audience would see the whole thing from 
beneath, seated on the slopes of the mountain."

	"That sounds like an interesting idea."

	"Yes. But, you see, we have come no further. We have not been able to find 
music, which would fit our purpose. I can explain later why not. Jonas, 
could we in any way persuade you to compose what we need? Your symphony has 
set new fire and inspiration to our dreams. I'm dead sure you would be able 
to compose exactly the music, which could make such a performance perfect. 
We have money to pay you a fee, and we can pay a 12-15 member orchestra, 
like for concerto grossos or the likes."

	Jonas pondered her question for a while. This might very well be, what he 
needed to pull himself out of his lethargic state. "I would need to visit 
you in Verona and to hear a lot more details of your plans, before I can 
make a promise, but I would like to give it a try."

	"Thank you, Jonas. You have just raised our hopes. Can we schedule a couple 
of meetings in Verona, with our choreographer and all?"

	"Sure. You know how we live here, or you can just ask if I'm able to come. 
Let's try it."

	November came around. Jonas had to change tyres on the Morgan, or it would 
have been too dangerous to visit his lady of the mountain. In the meantime 
she had become quite addicted to his Danish pastry, and Jonas had to teach 
her the intricate and hard work, which went into it. The ballet-group had 
inspired him, and he had been to a few planning sessions. The choreographer 
would make a sketch of the whole ballet, and then they would cooperate 
minute for minute on the music. Jonas was looking forward to get going.

	One Saturday, just after siesta, Sarah called him on the phone and asked if 
he could come to her office. Jonas stopped dead in his tracks when he opened 
the door: At the low table Sarah sat talking with Jonathan!

	"Hey, little brother, you didn't expect to see me here?"

	"That is some understatement! But welcome, it's lovely to see you again. I 
hope you don't bring bad tidings."

	"Not at all, not at all."

	"When did you arrive?"

	"Shortly after you had finished lunch. I've been talking with Sarah for 
almost two hours."

	"Do you intend to tell me what brings you here?"

	"It's quite important business, and it's really about you. You see, two 
weeks ago I was on a business trip to London. At the following dinner I told 
about you and your symphony and your trouble with your patience. You see, 
little brother, I'm quite proud of you."

	"As we all are," Sarah added.

	"This guy told me that in England it's quite common to hire an orchestra if 
you need one, say, for a commercial, a recording or whatever. That gave me 
an idea. When I returned to Copenhagen I asked questions in different 
places, and actually it's done in Denmark too. It's bloody expensive, but 
then I came up with a plan. I'd be willing to pay half the expenses, if you 
would pay a fourth and we could persuade Sarah to pay the other fourth. It 
can be done for about 200.000 dollars."

	"He is a very good salesman, your brother. It took him half an hour to 
persuade me."

	"Wow. I don't know what to say." He felt small tears form behind his 
eyelids. "I can hardly believe you'd do such a thing for me. Of course I 
will. Of course. This is wonderful." He went round to hug his brother and to 
kiss Sarah.

	"I thought you would. I have booked The Radio Symphony Orchestra for mid 
December. Wednesday and Friday for rehearsals, and Saturday evening for the 
opening concert. And you'll have to do the conducting yourself."

	"I can't believe this is true. It's so wonderful. I know I can pay my 
quarter of the expenses, but can you?"

	Sarah laughed. "That's where your brother is a marvellous salesman. He has 
persuaded me to let his factory handle the Scandinavian sales of our new 
organic margarine, so not only will we make more money on the margarine, but 
we can also deduct the symphony orchestra as promotion expenses."

	"Never fear, brother, we are not going to turn your opening concert into a 
sales pitch. All you'll ever notice will be a tiny sign on the front of the 
stage, for the benefit of tax authorities. Less than ten inches long."

	"I trust you'll handle that with style, brother. God, I'm going to be busy. 
I'll have to print out the scores of each individual instrument, and I'll 
have to study the score thoroughly to prepare myself."

	"Your brother has promised to let his advertising department handle all PR 
for the concert. They are educated people, as you well know."

	"I have one last good message: The Radio Symphony Orchestra will prefer to 
stay in their own concert hall, so the Radio has given us a special low 
price for the hall. They will also record the concert, because they may want 
to broadcast it, at a price of course, and I  have acquired the rights to 
use the recording to make a CD edition, if you find the quality of the 
recording OK."

	"Brother, oh brother, if you ever get tired of producing margarine, you'll 
have a great future in managing."

	Sarah sent them both a bright smile. "You are two extraordinary men. I knew 
your father. You have both got his talents, each in your own field, plus a 
hundred percents more. I can hardly wait to go to Copenhagen and hear your 
opening concert. You will want me to come, won't you?"

	"I would miss you terribly if you weren't there."

	"All right, boy, that's a deal. Now, you go and get busy with what you have 
to do. Sarah has promised to take me on a round of the factory. We'll meet 
at supper. And don't you look so surprised. Sarah has invited me to dinner, 
because I'm Arthur's son, too."

	"Ouch, Jonathan. I hope you're prepared for some surprises, when they hear 
you're Arthur's son."

	The evening ended like Jonas had anticipated. Initially the two brothers 
were a bit shy to let go, in each other's company, but Rose and Gina quickly 
drained any reluctance out of Jonathan. 7 women and 2 men made for an 
exciting orgy. Jonathan experienced things he had never even dreamed of, and 
Jonas was surprised how horny he got, when he watched Jonathan fuck his 
lovely Sarah.

Epilogue:

	The first rehearsal went absolutely fine. When Jonas stopped them after the 
opening bars and said: "Gentlemen. For these first 22 chords I want you to 
forget everything about beautiful sounds. They have to be violent, sharp, 
and first of all forte fortissimo and then a little more, please." From that 
moment there was a fine rapport between Jonas and the musicians, and they 
really worked hard to do what he wanted, even though he was not a trained 
conductor.

	Jonathan had done a fine PR job, and most newspapers had written about the 
young composer and his first symphony. The four biggest even sent their 
music reviewer to the consert itself. At half past seven two large busses 
rolled up in front of the Radio building, filled with women and children 
from the factory.

	The concert was a huge success. The applause seemed never to take an end. 
At last Jonas went to the podium and held up his arms. "Ladies and 
gentlemen. This is an unusual concert, because we do not have any other 
music, we have rehearsed. The only thing we can do is to ask this wonderful 
orchestra if they would be willing to make a repeat performance." Cries of 
`yes', `encore', `one more' filled the hall. When Jonas turned round to look 
at the musicians, they all smiled and nodded `yes'. The second performance 
was even better than the first. No nervousness to hinder all the emotions 
from being expressed. On the next day all four major newspapers hailed Jonas 
as the Carl Nielsen of the new century.

The End.

_________________________________________________________________
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