Once upon a time in a big mansion on a hill on the rich side of town, there lived a prominent surgeon and his lonely wife. He was a famous heart doctor, renowned for his expertise in research and in the operating room. They say he could carve into a chest, graft arteries and mend valves without breaking a sweat. So keen, was his precision that he was sought out the world over for difficult procedures no one else would endeavor to touch. His name was Willard Simone III. When he was in medical school in Austria, he met a beautiful brunette named Liesl. She worked as a barrista at Café Ministerium. Willard thought she was a vision of loveliness. Twice a day, morning and night, he’d go to the café for espresso, but mostly he went to gaze at Liesl in her pink peasant blouse and short ruffled skirt. With her hair held back in a periwinkle scarf and her large voluptuous breasts bouncing from her scooped neckline, she was an erotic essence. Her long brown hair fell in curls about her shoulders.

Sometimes in the morning, Willard would go for goulash and sausages and his cock would vibrate as she bent over to put the plate in front of him. He always tipped her exceedingly well. She had the most innocent smile he’d ever seen. Even though he was a man of medicine, an academic, Liesl brought out the nastiest visions in him, a wild animal attraction he had never before felt. He suspected Liesl knew it. When she stood over him or stooped beside him, her blouse would just happen to slip casually from her shoulder, giving Willard a peek at her gorgeous curvy mounds. She never wore a bra. She was so young she didn’t need one. Her large breasts were firm and supple and erect. Willard fantasized about fondling and sucking them.

One afternoon when Willard was strolling from university back to his room at The Falkensteiner Hotel, he saw Liesl walking, holding hands with a tall young blonde man whom Willard thought was a student in one of the classes he taught as a teaching assistant. This was the first time he had seen her away from the café. She looked different, even more beautiful. She was wearing a sky-blue jumper style dress that like the peasant blouse accentuated her scrumptious body.

“Hi Dr. Simone. It’s nice to see you somewhere other than where I work.” said Liesl. “This is my friend Guenther.”

“Hello,” said Willard shaking the young man’s hand.

“Hi. I’m in your Cardio Tissues 101 at school. I’m a sophomore. It’s nice to meet you Dr. Simone.”

“You too Guenther.”

Willard was seething. Why was he so jealous? The way Guenther was touching Liesl filled him with fury. He was practically fondling her breasts right in front on him.

“Are you working at Ministerium’s tonight Liesl?” Willard asked.

“Yes. I’ll be there, going a little later. I’ll be in around eight.”

Willard immediately thought she had probably switched her schedule around to be with Guenther. He imagined the young hunk fucking her and squeezing her breasts. He broke out into a sweat. He felt the need to make a speedy exit.

“Wonderful. Well, I’ll see you there. I’m having dinner there. Will you be my server?”

“Of course Dr. Simone. Don’t I always serve you?”

Willard thought she was flirting with him. He was sure of it. Guenther didn’t seem to notice. What an oaf, what a grinning fool! Liesl deserved much better.

At eight, Willard dressed in his best tweed suit and headed to the café. Liesl was carrying a tray of beer to a group of rowdy students sitting outside. He was glad he would be dining inside away from buffoonery. He watched the boys clamoring at her in their drunken state. Liesl handled it with grace and ease. She came back into the café, laid the tray on the table and walked toward Willard.

“Good evening Dr. Simone. You’re looking very spiffy tonight.”

“And you my Dear are a needed sight for my jaded eyes.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“I want to make you blush, among other things.”

With delight, Willard saw that her face had now gone from pink to red.

“How was your date with Guenther?”

“Well, it wasn’t really a date. He’s just a boy I met here at the café a few weeks ago. He’s not really my type.”

“What is your type?”

She looked at Willard a little shyly, but with a sensual curve to her lip. “I like older men. Men who are smart and know what they want.”

“Sounds a bit like me.”

“Yes, I guess it does. I need to get back to the kitchen. Do you want your usual?”

“Yes, Dear. That would be delicious.”

About thirty minutes later, Liesl brought Willard grilled pork medallions with wild black butter rice and mushrooms with knoedel in cream sauce and a pint of his favorite dark beer.
“This looks delicious, Liesl. How late are you working?”

“I have to work until the café closes and then I have to help clean the grills. I’m off tomorrow, so I suppose I’ll see you the day after.”

“I don’t have classes tomorrow, to teach or to take. Would you like to accompany me to The Prater?”

“Wow, I haven’t been there in so long. When I was a teenager I used to live down there, ride the Ferris wheel over and over. Okay. Thanks for asking me.”

“Great! Why don’t I come by here around ten in the morning and we’ll walk over.”

“It’s a date. Would you like another beer Dr. Simone?”

“Liesl, since we’ve been friends for so long, do you think you could call me Willard?”

“Would you like another beer Willard?”

“Yes, I would, thank you. You serve me well.”

That was the beginning of a twenty-year journey that eventually took Liesl a thousand miles away from her beloved Vienna where she eventually wound up: on “millionaire row” outside New York City, a not so young but still beautiful thirty-seven year old, having a martini before noon, lusting for the virile men digging in her back yard planting Crimson Glories in her rose garden. It had been a sad and often lonely journey. As she watched the men, she remembered the way Willard had been that long ago day at The Prater. He had been tender and sweet and attentive. They had ridden the giant Ferris wheel four times. Once when they were stuck on top Willard had said, “Did you know this Ferris wheel was built in the 1800’s?” She had been alarmed and grabbed his arm and asked if it was safe. He had laughed and told her it was. Two hundred feet up in the air, the views of the city had been breathtaking and The Danube looked like a thin blue ribbon snaking through the city. They had stayed at the amusement park until midnight. It had been a beautiful day and it made Liesl consider Willard in a different light. Afterwards, he continued to woo her in this way for months and even though she didn’t think she had ever truly loved him, she thought it was possible to have a good life with him, so when he asked her to marry him, she had accepted. Over the years, it became clear to her that he only wanted her to serve him sexually. It was as if Café Ministerium had been transplanted from 1010 Wien into their bedroom. In the beginning her husband’s sexual appetite was insatiable and she was frequently bruised and raw from his advances. Over time and as Willard became an important heart surgeon, his craving diminished and now he did not have any use for her at all except as a well-dressed wife on his arm at public events and at fundraisers. He supported her lavishly, heaped jewels and furs on her as if she was a Queen, but she could have cared less. Emotionally, she felt starved for love and attention. Willard had not touched her for over two years. She tried to use alcohol to fill the void especially in the past few months, but really it only gave her a migraines and made her look older. She had noticed a web of tiny wrinkles around her eyes in just the last few weeks. The martini she was drinking now was her first of the day. She had definitely cut back. She wondered if the two men in her garden would appreciate some lemonade – she laughed softly to herself and she thought, that’s right Liesl, that’s what you do best: serve. It was hot; they were probably overheated. She took a pitcher and two glasses of ice to them.

“Hello, I’m Mrs. Simone. I thought you men might enjoy some lemonade. It’s terribly hot out here.”

They leaned on their shovels and smiled.

Liesl thought they were gorgeous, so brown and muscular, the opposite of Willard. One of them was not wearing a shirt and it was impossible for Liesl not to stare at the hard ripples on his stomach and his broad shoulders. She felt something she had not felt in a long long time: a slow warmth building between her legs.

“Thank you Mrs. Simone. That’s great. My name’s Andy and this is my partner Steve. We’ll be done here by the end of the week.”

“It looks beautiful,” said Liesl. “Crimson Glory has always been one of my favorite rose bushes.”

“Mine too,” said Andy. “The ones you had were not diseased, they were just planted below the root ball and over time it destroyed them.”

That’s how Liesl felt: planted below her root ball, but now standing with these masculine men in a rose garden, for the first time in a long time she felt a kind of blooming taking place.

“I guess our last gardeners were not as mindful as you,” she said.

“Probably not. Gardens need lots of care, just like beautiful women. I hope it’s okay to say that,” said Andy.

Until now, the shirtless man, the one named Steve had not said a word. “Your husband’s very lucky Mrs. Simone.”

She was a bit taken aback by his boldness, the warm spot in her pussy got hotter.

“I don’t think he feels that way,” she said.

“Then he’s a fool, you’re very beautiful,” said Steve.

“Yes, you are,” said Andy. “Thank you for the lemonade. We were just getting ready to take a break and head out for lunch. We should be back by three.”

Liesl was suddenly alarmed. She did not want them to leave. In fact, she felt a fervent need to be in their presence. She tried to hide the urgency in her voice but she suspected from the looks on their faces that it was apparent.

“I’ve got stuffed pork chops and baked apples at the house. Why don’t you let me make you lunch?”

Steve and Andy looked at each other and smiled.

“Beats a burger,” said Andy.

They walked by the fountain, and the pool, onto the patio and into the kitchen. Liesl reached up in the pantry for a platter to warm up the chops. When she did, Andy touched her tenderly on the back of her neck.

“To tell you the truth, Mrs. Simone, I’m really not that hungry, are you Steve.”

“No, not for food.”

Andy turned her around, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. She had never been kissed like that. Willard’s kisses were tepid and anemic. The longer Andy kissed her, the deeper his tongue went into her mouth. Steve walked behind her and put his hands up her skirt, inside her panties, and started massaging her ass, tracing his finger up and down her crack. He touched her cunt.

“She’s very wet Andy,” he said.

Andy stopped kissing, but kept caressing her face. Liesl kept her eyes closed. She was afraid if she opened them, she would find herself in a dream as if these two men were not really standing in her kitchen making love to her. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this. She remembered Guenther. That was it; these men were like grown up sexier Guenthers.

“Mrs. Simone, there’s one rose even more beautiful than Crimson Glory. It’s my favorite hybrid. It’s called Double Delight. It looks beautiful like you and it smells beautiful like you. Would you like some Double Delight?”

All Liesl could manage to do was nod. Andy had to hold her up to keep her stable. Steve was fingering her clit and she was moaning softly and swaying to his touch. She was so wet; it felt like someone had rubbed a stick of butter between her legs.

Even in their thick denim jeans, it was obvious that Andy and Steve had huge hard-ons. It looked like they each had a giant sausage between their legs. Andy unbuttoned Liesl’s blouse and Steve slipped it from her shoulders. He undid her bra letting her large breasts fall in front of Andy’s face. He started suckling her. Because she was and had been so desirous, her nipple became as hard as a nut. Andy teethed and licked her breasts and nipples while Steve continued to finger her clit. She was close to orgasm. She wrapped her arms around Andy’s neck. He was sucking her with a fury. He reached between her legs, moved Steve’s fingers to her pussy hole and took over rubbing her clit. Steve thrusts two, then three fingers into her hole and fucked her with his hand while Andy masturbated her. She erupted like a volcano that had rumbled and simmered for years. In a way that was the perfect analogy of her life. She tumbled violently into Andy’s arms. They sandwiched her in their strong and simple masculinity. They did not fuck her; they did not even try. These beautiful men had served the server and asked for nothing in return.

Liesl kissed Andy first and then with Andy cupping her ass, she turned around and kissed Steve.

“Thank you,” she said. “That was so beautiful and so needed.”

She escorted them to the fine dining hall – the expensive gorgeous cherry table that would easily seat thirty people.

“Uh, Is Dr. Simone going to coming home anytime soon?” Steve asked.

“He’s in London. He won’t be back for two weeks.”

“Now, you just relax and I’ll bring your plates right out.”

Liesl felt like she was home. She felt like she was serving Guenther and his friends at Café Ministerium. She ran upstairs and found a simple jumper and a kerchief and tied her hair back. She heated up the medallions and spooned the apples onto the china plates. She served them beer and food. They loved it. After one bite, they realized they were much hungrier than they thought. They had after all, worked up quite an appetite. They gulped the beer. It was such a perfect beverage on a hot summer day.

“This is delicious Mrs. Simone,” said Andy.

“Can I get you something else?” she asked. “Oh, the bread, I forgot the bread.” She darted into the kitchen to get a baguette.

“I don’t know how much advance notice you need or how booked you are, but I’ve been thinking I’d put a hosta and lily garden under the big oak tree down the hill by the potting shed. It needs to be designed and arranged. I’m guessing it would be a fairly lengthy project.”

“How long do you think?” asked Steve.

“At least two weeks,” she said.

So, Liesl was “served” by Andy and Steve for two weeks. When Willard returned it was like a dark gray fog had seeped back into her life. She realized with great clarity that she did not love him and that he had never loved her. The sight of him made her sick. The sight of her aroused nothing in him. One morning after he had left for work, Liesl packed a small bag, stopped by the bank and closed all her accounts. It was enough money to live on for years. She drove to the airport and took the next flight to Vienna. Even though she was tired from no sleep and drastic decisions, she felt happier than she had been in years. She was also very hungry. She went to Café Ministerium’s and ordered buttered scallops in a basil cream sauce. She never called Willard. She wondered how long it would take him to notice she was gone.

She savored the food in her mouth and the sweet anticipation in her heart. It was good to be home.