Hot Bebe

By Egmontgrigor2020

Chapter 1

Women's underwear designer Basil Newton shot out of his armchair to join the conversation between his wife and daughter, who'd remained seated at the dining table over-looking the dinner left-overs.

"What did you just say to your mother?" he asked, voice raising an octave.

Bebe (Barbara) frowned and said, "I told her I've met someone."

"You said you've met a man," he thundered.

"Boy, guy, male or man, does it matter?"

Fury seized Basil's face.

"Basil, control yourself," ordered Evelyn, his plain-looking but well-shaped wife with a good level of control of her husband.

"Yes dad, and remember I'm an imminent high school graduate, not an out-of-control young teen."

His face turned puce and he gasped, "But you've only just turned 18."

"You forgot to add and I've matured since my stroppy mid-teen days," Bebe said.

"How old is this creep?" her father asked.

"Somewhere between 10 and 30, I believe. I actually don't know," she said and began walking to the door.

She turned and said sweetly, "Dad, feel free to ask him yourself. He's coming here to dinner tomorrow."

"No bloody way; he's not stepping a foot into my house."

"Mum, your decision please and I expect a mature, even-handed response."

"Yes, your invitation stands. I'd like the opportunity to meet him and make my own assessment of the so-called creep. Needless to say, I'm confident you possess good sense and believe that he won't fit the classification of creep in any way at all."

"Thanks mum, and up you dad."

"You provocative young bitch. Apologise or I'll tan you arse."

"Come on dad, have a go. But I warn you, although I don't weigh as much as you do, I'm fitter, faster and possess quite a punch as we in the senior girl's rugby team have boxing sparring as part of our game preparation drill to raise our fitness level and to learn how to take a punch."

"Um, your mother won't like it if I lay a finger on you."

"Oh, good one, dad. You issue the challenge and then hide behind mom's skirt."

"I apologise for losing it," Basil said weakly, eyeing his wife who appeared ready to wallop him with a fierce backhander.

"Thanks dad, and please don't blame me if you decide you like Hunter."

"Omigod, Hunter," Basil murmured, as Bebe left the room, giggling.

Next evening, Evelyn suggested to Basil that he dress for dinner.

"Why?"

"To impress Hunter and to please our daughter."

"My home clothes will do."

Thirty minutes later Basil heard a car drive up and stop in front of the open garages, parking in front of Basil's weekend car, an American Mustang.

The driver got out of his silver VW Golf and eyed the Mustang.

"He's here and Christ, he's wearing a white suit and carrying two bouquets of flowers and it looks like a bottle, probably Scotch.

"Where're you going," Evelyn called, as her husband fled.

"To dress up. Apologise for my lateness darling."

Basil entered the living room wearing a dark grey suit, purple open-neck suit and obviously had done his hair.

"Oh hi," he said, walking up to the alleged creep. "I'm Barbara's father."

The guy looked startled and said, "So Barbara is her given name?"

"Yes son," Basil said sounding a little patronising. "But she prefers using her nickname of Bebe. What's your name?"

"Oh, apologies sir, I'm Hunter Wallace, of South Yarra, where I lived with my parents and sister."

"Don't call me sir, call me Basil. I saw you looking at my Mustang. Know anything about them?"

"A little, Basil. They suit Australian roads. My guess is yours is a 2017 Fastback GT coupe fitted with a 5-litre V8."

"Did Bebe give you those details?"

"We've never talked about cars and in fact we have talked to each over very little since she asked me four days ago when arriving at her school what I was working on?"

"Ah, so you didn't attempt to pick up a schoolgirl. She made the first approach?"

"Basil, what do you think of these floral arrangements from the bouquets that Hunter bought Bebe and me?"

"Very nice, they appear to be beaut quality. Hunter was just saying that Bebe ..."

Evelyn said in another diversion. "Hunter has brought you a real treat, a bottle of top Shiraz that I've opened for us to drink tonight with the slow-cooked steaks."

"It would have to be something like Blueberry Hill Shiraz to be a real treat for me."

"It is," Evelyn said.

"Oh golly, did my daughter tell you I'm eager to sample it after the glowing reviews it's receiving on its inaugural release?"

"Basil, my uncle is the chief winemaker at Blueberry Hill Estate and he gave dad a case at the weekend. Dad gave me a bottle of it and I thought the appropriate place to take it to would be here tonight."

Evelyn commanded, "Cocktails first, please, Basil."

Later when they were finishing starters at the table, Basil said, "Hunter, there are some questions awaiting answers. What were you doing at my daughter's school chatting up the girls?"

"I'm approaching twenty-two Basil and this is my final year in studying for qualifications to become a land surveyor. I was engaged as part of university field studies as a surveyor's assistant. The school needs a second science teaching block and the site is tight. We have been commissioned to survey the entire area to provide data to include where potential areas exist to build a new science block. It will be the best site to be recommended for approval by the school board that is likely to meet all requirements of the local authorities."

"So far, the school's board has decided it's preferred area and now we have been surveying that area in detail. Once we have completed that work, the data will be made available to the school board for approval and at the end of that approvals phase, the data will be given to its architects and engineers prior to the awarding of construction contracts."

Basil said, "Ah, I get it. Bebe spoke to you about your work simply out of curiosity."

"Yes, and I was on a break and we got talking more and I mentioned I had a sister about to graduate from this school and Bebe asked me her name and found my sister and Bebe played in the same senior rugby team, with Bebe the right-winger and Cher is the left-winger."

"Ah, all of that makes sense, and we know Cher."

The evening went smoothly, the meal and wine were superb and the now relaxed and beaming Basil thought the visitor was cool and would be most unlikely to have the hots for an 18-year-old shortly to leave school. Bebe was about have four months off to enjoy summer before beginning at to the RMIT, his old university in Melbourne, to study professional accountancy before joining him in his accountancy partnership practice.

Basil noticed that his wife was flirting with the visitor, projecting more personality and displaying more breast flesh than he's seen her do in years.

He assumed their daughter would have become aware of that, influencing her to identify young Hunter as a ladies' man. Bebe would dump him practically overnight, becoming aware that she had unluckily become acquainted with a guy who'd become lured by sexually under-utilised females to pounce on any of them who'd slow-eye him suggestively and perhaps show him a bit of tit.

A couple of events followed to confirm to Basil that his thinking was spot on.

When the visitor left later with Bebe walking with him to his car, Evelyn asked Basil to help clear the table and she said, "I feel horny for some reason Basil. I'll need you on top form in bed tonight."

He thought, ah, Hunter had got her juices flowing by staring at her tits.

Then Bebe came in, slamming the front door.

Her mother asked what was wrong.

"Hunter attempted to lean me over the bonnet of his car to shaft me. Mum, I scarcely know the guy."

"Good for you darling," Basil smirked. "There's nothing wrong with your morals."

Alas, more disturbing events were to follow.

A week after Bebe began her university studies, Basil asked: How are you coping with your introduction to business studies with emphasis on accountancy and finance?"

There was silence until Evelyn said, didn't he mean media studies?

Basil tugged his left ear and said, "What?"

"Basil dear, you signed the bank transfer to fund Bebe's first year of studies that was attached to her course schedule that was clearly marked media studies. At the university's Open Day for qualified entrants, Bebe saw the types of students that were in the business studies line and jumped across to join the line of incoming students proposing to commit to media studies."

"But why?"

"Dad, the guys and gals opting for media studies in the main looked like types better suited for hospital cafe work or social deadbeats whereas those in the media line looked more like Dancing with the Stars contestants."

Basil fumed, "What does that mean?"

"In words an accountant can probably understand dad, one line were potential deadbeats while the other line looked like today's people on the move up."

"Cut the rubbish, why didn't you inform me you wished to switch careers?"

"I thought it best to leave the documentation for you to read instead of inviting you to practically blow my head off as your immediate reaction."

"But you distracted me, wearing that see-through nightdress when handing me the papers. That adds up to pure deception, Bebe."

Bebe said and he must have given priority to noticing she now shaved 'down there' and didn't her successful deception mean she was more suited to working in the news media rather that developing eye-strain from working in accountancy where high ethical standards were mandatory?"

"Fuck you both," Basil yelled, storming from the room, throwing his hands into the air.

"Mum, it's odd hearing dad use the F-word; he's nearing fifty and can't be interested in fucking at his age."

Her younger parent, blushing, turned and walked to the kitchen, tittering.

As a university student, away from lecturers, Bebe upgraded her knowledge and experience through having many sexual encounters with both males and females. Before the end of her first years of studies, she'd accepted being widely called Hot Bebe and it was only upon the advice of her best friend Midge, from a farm 150 miles out towards the Australian real Outback, that assisted her to cope with her deluge of sexual activity.

"Pace yourself in spending time with these sex-focused fiends, Bebe, if you wish to improve your marks and not end up with your tits handing down to your belly by the time you're forty-five."

The thought of having her cute no-sag boobs becoming enlarged and bouncing down toward a fat gut was sufficient encourage Bebe to pace herself, leaving big gaps between encounters and no longer become involved in groupies.

Her marks improved significantly until she joined the top ten student group and she remained there but her reputation of being a hot fuck didn't suffer. In fact, she gained greater finesse from limiting herself to more refined sexual partners and her social skills also improved, as did her dress and all-round social sense.

During her spells assigned to media organisations to gain work experience, Bebe was put off attempting to specialise in a career in TV and that left her undecided about what line to take in her third year of studies. She finally decided on advertising but a chance meeting brought her into contact with a recruitment scout at a party she attended.

Melanie Briscoe introduced herself, handing Bebe a fresh glass of champagne.

"How is it that you are the youngest person at this soiree, Bebe?"

"Mr Evans is one of my father's clients and invited him to attend this event with his wife, but my mother had a funeral to attend in Sydney and so my father asked me to accompany him. I'd written a business profile on Ted Evans that was published in Business Today Magazine, as part of my studies, and so I thought I should accept and see how he performed socially."

"Ted has had a reputation for cornering younger females for several decades, to put it politely. May I ask how did you fare with him?"

"I really didn't think he'd be interested in me, Melanie."

"Is that your answer, Bebe?"

"Yes, and may I point out, politely, that I have no intention of asking who do you engage with sexually."

"A great answer, Bebe. Look, I'm paid rather handsomely to find possible candidates for recruitment by my clients. I have someone who may be interested in you as a journalist."

"Who?"

"That's rather abrupt, Bebe."

"Well, my thinking is this conversation is rather pointless. I'm a third-year student, with another year to go for my degree. We both may wish to move on at this point."

"Are you interested in what people think and sharing your views, Bebe dear?"

"Yes, of course. Isn't everyone?"

"Actually no, although many can be lured into becoming interested."

"I'd agree with that Melanie, but what adult would be interested in the views and hot speculation of a university student?"

"Oh, perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands. You asked who would be interested in recruiting you. How about Sonja"

"You mean Sonja Humphries?"

"Great assumption, Bebe. My guess is she would be most interested."

"Christ."

"Great reaction. Oh, Ted is heading our way. He'll wish to talk to me. Sonja will be in touch. Bye darling."

Melanie's expectation of what was about to take place wasn't even close.

Beaming, looking great in a casual light blue suit without a tie, Ted Evans gave Melanie a peck on the cheek and said, "Great to see you sweetie."

He moved into Bebe and embraced her fully and kissed her on the lips.

"For fuck sake Ted, my father's here."

"I waited until I saw him join a group of guys out on the patio. It's a thrill to see you. Dinner with me tonight?"

"No, Ted. We. agreed that first night was a oncer. It was something special; let's keep it that way."

Shaking her head angrily as being given the brush off, Melanie walked off.

Ted said he should continue circulating, kissed Bebe and walked to join a group near them, leaving Bebe thinking well that was the end of her association with Melanie the recruiter.

She looked in the direction Melanie had taken and saw her with two other females. Melanie looked straight at Bebe and winked hugely.

Bebe looked away, abruptly, having thought she'd blown it with Melanie. She looked back to smile but Melanie was engaged in conversation. Bebe thought bugger, Melanie would be really thinking Bebe had rejected her. Oh, fuck.

An elderly woman touched Bebe on the arm and she turned to the woman who was wearing far too much make-up but was beautifully groomed, wearing a simple black mid-lower leg dress, no ear-rings and only a hanging necklace on a silver chain and the size of the attached diamond made Bebe gasp.

"Why hello dear, you must be someone to be at this do, the beautiful young princess amid a crowd of mostly senior citizens, or near to it. I saw you in conversation with the wealthy recruiter for the rich and famous, Melanie Briscoe. She's an unmarried bi-sexual, if you didn't know that. Also, our distinguished host Ted, or Mr Evans to you, is in line for an imminent knighthood."

"Oh, how interesting. I'm Bebe Newton."

"I'm pleased to meet you Bebe, the young female with a modern name. Do you know who I am, darling?"

"I believe you are Lady Simpson-Cambridge who, as Eva Simpson. was a notable portrait painter prior to her second marriage."

"Oh my, and how did you acquire that knowledge? I don't give interviews. Did your father point me out to you? He's my personal accountant. Basil Newton is here but I have yet to greet him."

"Yes, ma'am. Basil is my father, but I was unaware you were one of his clients. His personal clients remain unknown to my mother and me."

"Yes, well that's what confidentiality is all about, and darling, call me Eva. Will you answer my question?"

"I'm a student taking media studies. I chose you as a subject to write a test profile on for marking because my mother inherited a portrait from her mother, the late Sylvia Fellows and..."

"Omigod, you are Sylvia's granddaughter. Then you really are somebody, Bebe. Sylvia was my first new friend when I arrived in Australia and became my best friend ever. I painted that portrait of her and presented it to her for her 50th birthday, the only painting I've done since my second marriage."

"Omigod, I grew up loving that painting of my nanna and when I was a young child, she told me it was done by a very famous painter. I learned your name and eventually I've seen examples of your work here in Australia and in galleries in England. I am overwhelmed to have met you."

"Why, because I'm a so-called famous portrait painter?"

"No, Eve, it's because you captured something in my grandmother's occasional expression that I often saw but neither my parents could recall seeing."

"Oh darling, when you advance as a journalist, people will read or hear things they never expected from you, that I promise will happen. I'm 72 and have been reading people much my adult life from the perspective of a painter, so believe that prophesy."

* * *

Nearing the end of her third year of studies, Bebe received a call on campus during the break for lunch. She read the caller's ID as TWM Inc.

She tensed as she interpreted than as Thinking Woman's Magazine Incorporated.

That was a mag that circulated monthly by subscription throughout Australia and New Zealand plus there were some inner-city resellers at major Australian cities. The editor was Sonja Humphries.

"Bebe Newton speaking."

"I'm Indiana Adams, PA to the editor of the Thinking Woman's Magazine, Sonja Humphries. Mrs Humphries would like you to drop in and meet her at your earliest opportunity."

"Sorry, I can't spare the time. I have a full schedule of studies reviews by lectures prior to our upcoming final examinations for this year."

"You can't be that busy."

"Regrettably, I am."

"May I call you back?"

"Yes, if the bother to you is worth it, Indiana. Sweet name."

"Thanks," said the caller with a smile incorporated in her voice as she cut her call.

Inside 10 minutes, Indiana called again.

"Mrs Humphries understand and says you have to eat. She invited you to her home for dinner with her and her two daughters at 6.00 on Saturday evening. Is that okay?"

"Yes, I accept the invitation from one of Australia's media Royalty. I've read that Mr Humphries is currently at an international free world publishing congress in Switzerland."

"Yes, and thank you, Miss Newton, for your acceptance. I shall send you address details."

"Oh, Indiana how old are the daughters?"

"I'll include details in my text message."

Indiana knocked and entered Mrs Humphries office.

"She's accepted."

"Great, send her details of the address."

"Mrs Humphries, why have you bothered to accommodate the needs of this candidate when you have nine other young women with more experience in journalism whereas Bebe virtually has none?"

"Indiana, for one thing, like you, Bebe's name is not her given name. To me, that reeks of independent character and again, just like you, she knows who she is. If she arrives and calls me Sonja straight up, she will be given the position on trial. Besides, Melanie sent me a profile that was requested by one of her university tutors that included the challenge to attempt to get it published in a mainstream publication and the Business Today Magazine saw fit to publish it."

"I've known Ted Evans since we were at high school together and, until I read that article, I thought I knew everything worth knowing about him. The detail in that article, from research and a face-to-face interview, quite astonished me, providing me with info about the man that made me aware that I only half-knew him."