This is a slightly updated version of this tale. I'm at somewhat of a loss to explain why it was not submitted here when it was first posted on the Internet. There have been a few minor changes to the text since the tales first appearance.
DC thanks the proofreaders who assisted in preparing the original for posting. But we should add that he doubts they've seen this later version.
Good Morning Starshine!
The reader must understand that most of this happened a very long time ago now; the true beginning of the tale did anyway. The world was a completely different place back then; well, as I just said, it was at the beginning.
As teenagers we were kind of innocent, and we were keen to explore the new boundaries that certain medical advances had left open to us. I'm talking the birth control pill here and the magical properties of antibiotics that meant most of the better known STD's could be cured with a couple of injections; well reputedly they could.
Yet at the same time we were angry about what the old fuddy-duddies had heaped upon us younger generation's shoulders. I'm talking about what is sometimes described at the time as "that Crazy Asian War." It was the American and Australian teenagers who had their innocence stolen by that conflict, but the majority of teenagers in the UK were with them in our hearts and minds.
It's highly possible that no one, who isn't old enough to have been in the sixteen to -- lets say about -- twenty-five or maybe thirty age group during the sixties. Will ever be able to understand what it was like back then; but then all you younger folks have grown up with HIV and antibiotic tolerant super bugs, haven't you. And a certain self-preservation attitude to life and sex that accompanies them.
I suppose the best place to start you the story is in the middle, some considerable time after the sixties and well, after I'd kind-of returned to living within the somewhat more staid and conventional society that we all share today.
-----
To be perfectly honest with you, I can't really explain how I came to join that Life Class in the first place. Well, not in any way that does not make me sound like, either, a pretty sad case or some sort of pervert or something. It's all a bit embarrassing to attempt to explain actually; but I will try.
I was thirty-six at the time and had just come out of a pretty disastrous five year relationship. For the life of me, I can't figure out how that affair had lasted as long as it did, for we had very little in common. Well, that's if you don't take into account a mutual appreciation of sex. But hey man, sex might be fun; but you can take it from me, that sex alone does not make a sound foundation for a long-term relationship. There has to be that little spark. That inexplicable something that draws you to the one person who's destined to be your life partner. Sex helps of course; but there has to be something extra there as well.
In comparison to a lot of people at the time, Clair and I had everything. A nice home and cars. We were young, healthy and very fit. Yeah well, we both enjoyed our energetic horizontal workout most seven nights a week.
To cut a long story short. Eventually we both came to realize that we were spending more time arguing with each other during the day, than we were making-up those arguments in bed at night. So we called 'time' by mutual agreement.
Clair moved out and left me living alone in our flat. I do believe she eventually shacked up with one of my old friends. Our constant bickering had sort-a led to an estrangement from nearly all our close circle of friends. Folks really do not want to spend their free time in the middle of a war zone; yeah that's how bad things had become between Clair and myself towards the end.
That kind-a left me with a mighty big problem after she had gone though; I no longer had a circle of close friends. Shit, I hardly had anyone who I could call a friend anymore, except for a couple of the guys I worked with at the office.
Yeah all right, probably I was being a little stubborn; but after folks have purposely pushed you away and left you off the old invitations lists for a few years. You're not inclined to go hunt the buggers out again; well I wasn't!
Anyway that's how I started hanging around with Arthur. Arthur was just another guy from the office. A couple of years older than myself; who had the reputation of 'apparently' being a bit of a loner. But I was to rapidly discover that appearances... especially first appearances can be... er, pretty inaccurate on occasions.
Another apparent disadvantage where Arthur was concerned, was he had the reputation of being bit of a weirdo. No, that's not right; maybe a little strange from most of the guys' in the office perspective. Well, you see, on the quiet Arthur was considered to be a little... odd, by most everyone else in the office.
In truth, Arthur was (and still is I would guess) what is sometimes described as an arty-farty type. He was into opera, ballet, art and all that crap. I do believe the only reason I first teamed-up with Arthur, was because -- unlike most of the other unattached males in the office -- he did not appear to spend his every non-working moment drinking. Although much to my surprise I was quickly to discover that Arthur spent a high proportion of his non-working time... fornicating!
I have to admit that I pretty soon discovered that I didn't care for opera very much. Although I did enjoy the company of the two very cultured and uncommonly (for the time) loose moral'd young ladies that Arthur arranged for us to escort that evening.
Ditto, goes for the few evenings we spent at the ballet as well. But Jesus, if we kept that game up for very long I'd have had to cut my hours at the office back; god alone knows where Arthur found the energy or all those frustrated females.
Luckily our employer had been one of the first around to introduce flexitime working. That did mean that I could take time to recover and go into the office later the mornings after Arthur and I had been out on one of the little soirées he arranged. Oh well, you see, the seats are cheaper on weeknights and Arthur and I weren't particularly made of cash.
The art exhibitions Arthur dragged me along to, were a little different. There, I had to do some work, and actually hunt down my prey. I can't honestly say we, or rather I, was very successful at those shindigs.
Geeky old Arthur appeared to be able to pick up a bit a spare almost anywhere, at the drop of a hat. God, the other guys back at the office, especially the office wolves, would never have believed how much of a babe magnet Arthur was on the quiet.
Maybe that was Arthur's secret; perhaps the ladies sensed the utter discretion of the man. Arthur never did brag about his conquests; even to me. And I'd seen him heading for the bedroom with some unbelievably tasty looking females on his arm. Too often, I might add, married females. But then again, they might have been divorcees; I have no idea how to tell the difference for sure.
Whatever, wandering around those art gallery's, raised my appreciation of one particular form of art, nude studies. In particular tastefully drawn studies of the female form, naked of course.
Yeah, all right, most men appreciate the female form anyway. But I seemed to develop a kind of infatuation of pencil or charcoal sketches of slender female forms.
Nothing too detailed, or what might possibly be described as crude. Just a few skilfully drawn lines preferably on a plain background, that implied in the viewers mind, the beauty of the subject.
