The Interventionists

After a long break the story picks up with Marie closing in on Beth and William failing to find his main interest. This chapter is somewhat longer as some scene setting takes place for the forthcoming chapters.

The light hearted story won't make much sense if you have not read the first chapters.

The Interventionists Ch. 04

The day was busy. We spent the morning and early afternoon establishing our alias as art buyers. Deliberately visiting various art galleries first in London where Beth's work was not available. Establishing our legends as we engaged with various 'art consultants' (read sales staff) introducing ourselves as art buyers visiting London.

After spending so many weeks pretending we weren't a couple it was fun to be able to travel about the city holding Marie's hand, making small talk, and seeking to be on CCTV instead of avoiding the cameras. Marie appeared to be enjoying it equally though neither of us forget for a minute that this was a mission and not a holiday.

After 3 or 4 such calls we went to a gallery we knew had both paintings and sculptures of Beth's. After admiring other artists' works I made a fuss over how good a painting of Beth's was. We looked further, separating a little. Then Marie yelled to "come quick, I just had to see this beauty'".

Needless to say the Art Consultant was at Marie's side before I was, to advise on the work as by one of "London's best up and coming sculptors and how her works were already appreciating in value at a rapid rate."

Beth's sculpture was of a nude girl standing relaxed with her head turned partially to one side and body slightly twisted, as if she was talking to someone to her side. It was in dark, almost black metal and maybe to my surprise, I really liked it. Not that I would have reacted any different if I had hated it, we were on assignment. I put my arm round Marie and said:

"That's wonderful darling! We must buy it straight away! We can have it delivered here in London and shipped later. Who's the artist, let's see what more or her works they have here. Maybe something bigger for the country residence?"

Charlotte, our Art Consultant, could only show us one other work, explaining their gallery could only display the smaller works but perhaps she could get in touch with the artist and for her to accompany us on a visit to the studio.

We did not need the company. I emphasised we were only in London for a short time and with very busy schedules. Suggesting that perhaps instead Charlotte could pass to the artist Marie's contact details and let the two arrange a meeting directly. I explained as I had meetings it would be easier to arrange with Anne-Marie. I promised, crossing my heart, that if we were to buy more works I'd ensure the gallery obtained its commission. The consultant hurried off to check with her boss and on her return somewhat reluctantly agreed to our plan. Charlotte cheered up at the Black AmEx card used to pay for the statue however. It appeared to convince her we were serious buyers.

The key objective achieved we then picked up the keys for our 'new place' and moved our stuff from the hotel to the new apartment for use as part of our legend. Thinking that the apartment was somewhat sterile as the base for a couple of art lovers we went out and bought a few small items for the apartment with our own money. Rationalsing, we said that we could always use the stuff at our own places after. It was originally Marie's idea but I got into the mood too though personally doubted that I could fit much of the stuff into my place after.

After a simple but pleasant meal at an Italian restaurant with some wine, followed by more wine when we got back to the apartment I reflected on my life. Was this what other couples did? Work a bit, shop a bit, go to restaurants, drink wine, fuck? Were we now living like other couples, even if it was just temporary? Certainly my life growing up was seriously messed up and I had been recruited not that long after I left home. So in truth I knew little of normal, though had done my best to pretend I did on other ops.

A reminder that this too was an op and not happy families came when the phone rang. Marie answered it and established it was Beth. I moved over to listen in. Marie assured her that she had the right number and that we were after some larger works, perhaps for a courtyard and did she have anything for sale? Whilst her financial affairs were a little bit of a mystery to us, despite our technology, she appeared very keen to try and sell her sculpture.

After some general chat and going through the explanation that we were over from France Beth happened to mention what a coincidence that was. Explaining that she had been talking just yesterday to another lady over from France. We decided to leave it as a surprise until meeting her of the previous connection with Marie and arranged to meet the next day.

Returning to thinking about normality I remembered Arsenal were playing at home tonight and the match would be live on TV. It should be starting soon.

The end titles were just on the screen for the soap Marie had been watching. Explaining about the Arsenal Match as I was changing to the sports channel Marie got up from the sofa and walked a few steps away. Turning then to face me.

"Rab, darling, I think we should retire early."

"What? Arsenal is on the Telly, it's a local derby against West Ham. Can't miss that."

Marie with a mischievous look, took off her shirt and let it fall to the floor, then slipped the bra shoulder straps over her shoulders

"Fair enough, darling, you watch your football and I will just have to take care of myself. I'm sure by the time the football is over I shall be fast asleep and not disturbable. And as for that prick, I guess it will have to be your hand and not my mouth that makes it spurt."

She turned and started walking towards the bedroom. As she did she reached around her back, unclipped the bra and let it fall too. Much as I like to watch Arsenal I sprang up, covering the distance fast and rugby tackled Marie to the floor. We came to rest laying part in the hall and part in the bedroom. I grabbed her lightweight trousers and easily pulled them down over her bum and almost to her knees. Next, pulling her panties down as far as I could. The trousers were conveniently restricting any opportunity she had to move.

I whispered into her ear,

"I've an idea, why don't we have a quicky on the floor here, then I've still time to see all of the match?"

Marie's response,

"So, you are a misogynist chauvinist pig then, 'Wham, bang, thank you mam', and I really thought you were a 21st century man."

I pulled her trousers and pants completely off while not letting her move away. Looking at that beautiful round firm bum. I was very excited and harder by the second. I imagined what it would be like to drill down into Marie with just the rug beneath and did lean down on top of her for a few seconds. My encased prick firmly rubbing her magnificent bottom. I was not quite so misogynist and might not be forgiven if I followed my earlier suggestion. Instead I pushed one hand under her breasts, one under her hips and carried her horizontally until we neared the bed. At which point I launched her through the air so she landed on the bed still on her front. Quickly following, I spread her legs as wide as they could go. I went to work furiously licking her cunt lips, and then forcing my tongue through them. Marie was dripping wet and that being the case it was not long before I approached her clit. Pausing just for a second to use a pinky to encourage the clit to fully emerge.

I returned to using my tongue, followed later by fingers deep in and out of her wet cunt. I sped up the pace and from the little scream, for Marie was not generally a screamer, and the gush that followed I took that to have been a most satisfactory orgasm.

I collapsed beside her, still dressed.

"Can I go watch Arsenal now?" I asked.

"If that's your preference." She rubbed the front of my trousers. "Maybe Beth won't be so interested in football and she and I can spend long hours in bed together."

The thought of the two of them naked together, led to a natural autonomical reaction. Marie felt it too as she was still stroking my cock through my trousers.

At that point we both had to quietly laugh. Marie wasted no time in removing my clothes. She then grabbed my prick very tight at the base and teased waggling her tits just out of reach. I was stronger and pulled her closer in, placing a breast to my mouth suckling hard on the nipple. Marie, if anything tightened her grip harder. I eased off on her nipple after a time. She moved down my body rubbing her breasts with their hardened tips on my skin as she went. With the blood return blocked my prick was large, hard, and throbbing. A swirl of her tongue on the tip and then Marie got to work swallowing half in her mouth and working her tongue aggressively. All this time preventing any blood return from my prick to my body causing my prick to swell to the point of mild pain. When she surfaced for air, giving a final swirl on the tip I knew I had to be ejecting precum. If Marie continued like that I would be gushing in her mouth or over her face very shortly. That's not my thing, I prefer any orgasm inside the cunt and not the mouth. So I lifted her on top and then guided her down to surround my fattened, thick prick. Then up and all the way down. We paused for a moment at that point, kissed slow and long, for we had all night to enjoy.

After all I could always catch the replay of Arsenal!

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Early the following morning, an online secure video call occurred with James. He thought it obvious I should go alone and Rab should not meet Beth until after I had seduced her. His thinking was that would progress things fastest with minimum suspicion. Rab accepted the order with ill grace. After the call I teased that the reason for him not liking the plan was because he could not wait to get his hands on her pair of 44DDs. In truth though a big girl I didn't think her tits were quite that big.

The address Beth had given was in West London. After continuing way past North Acton and halfway to Wembley I did begin to doubt the Sat Nav. Even more doubtful as to the accuracy of this 21st century sage when I was directed into a small, old, rundown industrial estate. Just then I saw a neat Greenaway Enterprises sign. I turned into the gates and appeared to have arrived at a scrap yard. Has Google taken me to a different Greenaway? There seemed little choice though but to go up to the aged door and wrap hard on it.

It was opened after a minute or two by Beth in an old, paint splattered, french blouse, old jeans and sandals.

"Anne-Marie?" Staring a little longer than is normally polite, then continued, "You look familiar, have we met before?"

Here was my chance, musn't overplay it,

"You look familiar too but I'm only recently back to London.....Of course! The other night! (giggle) Remember? The queue for the Ladies' at the National. We talked then?"

"But Yes! What a coincidence." Beth said with a laugh.

I laughed too. If Beth suspected anything other than a coincidence she gave no sign of it - but then if she was a pro she wouldn't, would she?

Beth pointed to the yard I had just crossed.

"Like my scrapyard?"

"I did wonder if I had the right place."

"My X taught me a lot, including about business. I need metal for my sculptures. Some of it has to be very pure, high quality rare material, but for most works, the more common stuff is just perfect and keeps the items affordable. A partner collects scrap and can sell it for what he can get with one provision. I get first pick on everything that comes into the yard. "

Beth then continued with some force,

"Artists need business sense to survive today. When I first started casting there were lots of men - for it's a totally male dominated business - they tried to rip me off for the materials I needed. I was an innocent back then. Today, it's surprising who has to come to me when they are needy.

"Enough of my business affairs, come in please."

Smiling and changing tone she asked,

"Coffee, or anything else to drink while you tell me what you are looking for. I have Earl Grey, Lapsang, Green, water, if you prefer?"

I saw an Espresso machine and asked for one. Once sat down and sipping our coffees Beth remarked that she had been expecting a man with me.

I explained that we were in London for several reasons. This included catching up with friends and family, some really boring financial matters which Robert had been dragged into today at short notice and, of course, some art for our French properties. Explaining we were building our Paris collection and also had this little run-down place in the south that we were trying to renovate and desperately needed new life added to it.

Beth who obviously missed little and was not afraid to speak plainly said,

"Oh, I thought the gallery said you were only here for a few days?"

I put my hand to my mouth briefly and gave a small laugh,

"You caught us out in a white lie there. We did not want company from the gallery when we visited. Salespeople don't know when to shut up and to stop trying to push on you items you have said you're not interested in. We like time to feel whether an item is right for us. It's almost like it radiates the right vibe and some people just interfere with us being able to sense that."

I laughed gently,

"That probably sounds very pretentious - but it's how we feel. We're not rich, but we have enough money to indulge our various passions a little."

Beth took the line I had fed perfectly and with a raised eyebrow and a laugh,

"Oh, darling, you must tell me all about those other passions! They sound most interesting!"

I joined in the laugh,

"Maybe. I might need to have something harder to drink than Espresso before I do though."

We laughed again, Was this all going to easy? Anyway I thought to bring it back to the supposed reason I was there,

"It is likely we will be here in London some weeks, rather than days. And to answer the question you were too polite to ask. Yes I can make decisions today. If we are talking really big items then I'd probably like to bring Robert along - and I'm sure he'd want to meet you too. Both of us like to meet the artists where possible that we collect, it makes the items we buy even more personal."

Beth asked, "Is the collection part of your investment portfolio?"

"No. Of course I'm not implying your sculptures won't be worth millions in a decade or so. It's just not about money but instead the feeling radiated from them, the atmosphere it gives to a place." I replied.

"Good! I honestly have no idea what my creations will be worth in the future. I do a fair amount of commissions, and some commissioning me do it for investment but I don't like to think too much about whether they're wise or not to do that. I know the galleries pedal this investment idea. So I'm glad that I don't have to worry about you and future values. It could spoil a wonderful friendship that I think we shall have."

Beth was looking at me intently, was that a wink? Was she implying an intimate friendship? Then the moment was gone and we were back to discussing ideas. I said we were looking at maybe one large sculpture, one or two smaller ones and were in the market for some drawings and paintings though did not promise to buy every item from her.

Beth took me out through a passage and then through to what must have been a company's main manufacturing workshop previously. It had modern equipment installed at one end including what I took to be a small furnace. There were sculptures of all shapes and sizes. As we walked Beth explained that she worked in all materials including stone, acrylics and other synthetics however 75% of her sculptures were metal. Some that I saw were abstract, some buildings and bridges, most though were of people - individuals, couples and groups in all poses. They were good and expressed feelings. One or two of the couples were shown embracing but not crude or twee in any way.

I admired most of them and eventually selected a medium sized male nude with a very intent gaze that seemed to follow you as you moved around and expressed interest in a large abstract that reminded me of clouds over a tree covered hill top but said I'd have to think more on how it would fit in with our other items.

We talked as we went around about all sorts of things, laughing and joking. Thinking about it, I concluded that Beth had interrogated me far more efficiently than I had her. Hopefully all she had learnt was my legend only. In this fashion it was close to 1pm by the time we went back to the first room. Beth insisted that we should have a glass of bubbly to celebrate our deal before showing me her drawings and pictures. After the bottle had been consumed Beth declared that I must be starving because she knew that she was. Insisting on making a salad with various meats on the side. Serving yet more champagne, despite my protestations that I would be in no state to drive.

The wine flowed and we got on to the subject of men, past and current. Beth again made reference to her being naive when arriving in London and then briefly about her meeting and marrying Alistair Greenaway, including that he was the son of a Lord. It seemed that sort of women's poker game chat. She had placed her bet, and now if we were to continue I had to raise the stakes and ask to see her hand. I went through my legend, going to Paris, meeting Robert over there and mentioning how there was this 'super intensity thing' instantly. That previous to meeting we both had several attempts at serious monogamous relationships and failed at them. Yet we thought we had something good together and did not know what to do. How this eventually developed into the open marriage that it was now. Beth was clearly highly interested, and showed her hand. Saying that she now felt she could tell me some more about herself without shocking me or risking it appearing in the media, as some parts had previously. Sharing a bit about her marriage to Alistair and how that too involved other lovers, quite often together in the same bed with them. She joked about their bedroom being as busy as Picadilly Circus. Making a point of mentioning that the lovers were of both sexes.

I drawled,

"But darling, we both know that women are so much better at knowing their way around a cunt?"

Beth almost doubled over with laughter banging the table.

"Anne-Marie, you're so right and I'm so delighted you came. I hope to see lots more of you. "

Was the phrasing a double entendre? Regardless, I continued

"Please call me Marie and when you meet him, call my beast - I mean my husband, Rab."

Was all this going too fast? Should I try and slow things down a bit.

Nearby were some charcoal drawings and paintings of Beth's including a nude on the easel that Beth had obviously been working on when I arrived. I went over to have a closer look.

"Don't look! Not one of my best." She exclaimed

"I might not buy it myself but it looks good to me." I countered

"Some models - like some people I guess - you interact with them, hit it off and create something good together. That wasn't the case with her. I might burn it. Finding female models is bloody difficult and male models that can do anything more than show off their muscles and expect you're really paying them to poke you are even more impossible."

Bet she'd like my Rab, I thought. Followed quickly by another thought, 'MY RAB' - where did that come from? We were fuck buddies, we liked each other, we would go in separate directions after this op.

Anyway, I could still tell Rab when I got back that Beth couldn't wait to get him naked on the couch - but leave out till after the bit that she would be fully clothed and that he'd have to audition for a job as a model first.