Susan was a young woman who enjoyed the finer things in life. Cordon Bleu food, designer clothes, cellared wines, as well as various forms of art. It was due to her interest in the arts that she had become involved as a volunteer at Hilton Galleries. Although her involvement was limited to leading a guided tour through the âtouring artsâ gallery every few weeks, it suited her well, as her main employment was as a receptionist at a busy medical practice. At least at the gallery, she may meet âthe man of her dreamsâ. John, her partner of 2 years, had debated that backpacking around the World was more important to him than settling down, so after much discussion, they had decided to go their separate ways, and see what the future had in store for each of them
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Nearly 2pm, Susan thought, as she led the art appreciation group past the final print from âThe Art that Hitler Hatedâ exhibition.
âThat concludes todayâs tour. Thank you for your interest, Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope to see you here again soon. Enjoy the remainder of your afternoon.â
The crowd dispersed, and Susanâs eyes met the gaze of a very familiar face.
âSusan, you certainly did your researchâ the voice said, âI am a great admirer of German Expressionist Printmaking, and I am very impressed with your knowledge! â
âBen?â Susan questioned.
Susan had met Ben nearly a year ago. The doctors at the medical practice, in which she worked, had invited several medical professionals to a get together at a restaurant. Ben was second in charge of the cardiology dept at a large hospital. Obviously of Germanic descent, he had blond hair and blue eyes, and a build which was much more muscular than she had remembered.
âHow quickly you forgot me.â he commented, with a wry smile.
Susan blushed, wondering how she had not noticed this link from her past in her tour group. âA large group today, you must have kept to the back,â she stammered. âHow lovely to see you again. You look different somehow, have you been working out?â
Ben laughed. âForever the flirt, Susan, but yes, I have!â
Susan cast her mind back to the night of the medicoâs party. The conversation had flowed freely, as had the wine. Many of the older professionals had left early, but others had made a night of it, and had stayed to the wee small hours. When the restaurant had closed at 4am, the last few revelers, of which Ben and Susan were a part, hailed taxis, and made their way home. Susan, Ben and Kathy, another receptionist, all lived in the same direction, so they rode together. Kathy climbed in next to the driver, as her destination was closest. Susan and Ben sat in the back, and, maybe because of their state of intoxication, they had started to feel rather horny, and began fondling each other. The cab soon arrived at Kathyâs home, and she bid her farewells, and the driver continued on his way, to Susanâs house, which was several kilometers away in the outer suburbs. Ben and Susan continued the exploration of each otherâs bodies, each becoming more and more lustful, clothes were being loosened, hands and mouths feeling and tasting bare skin, breathing labored, as the driver continued on his way. Finally, the taxi arrived at Susanâs address; the Greek-looking driver flashed a toothy smile in the rear vision mirror.
â21 Lakes Ave, Maâamâ he announced.
âOh Ben, come inside for a while, have a nightcap,â Susan pleaded.
â I would love to, Susan,â came the reply, âbut I have an early shift tomorrow, and I really do need to have my wits about me. Perhaps some other time?â
Although a little tipsy, Susan was stunned at the obvious âThanks but no thanksâ, and alighted the cab, barely turning back to bid farewell as the cab drove away.
Susan turned on the lights in the darkened house, and made her way to her bedroom, where she undressed, perusing herself in the full length mirror.
His loss, she thought to herself, feeling a little disappointed at the unsuspected turn of events.
She admired her petite frame. Almost boyish, but the soft curve of her hips, her pert breasts, and trimmed pubis stood testimony to her womanhood. She removed 3 clips from her hair, her long locks falling to envelop her body. She again admired her image, a true English rose. Such pale soft skin, her auburn hair like a cloak falling down around her arms until it caressed the fullness of her buttocks.
Perhaps some other time, he had said. Weâll see, she thought to herself as she climbed naked between the cool sheets, and lost herself in a dream of what could have been.
Her mind snapped back to the present, already scheming on how she may bed this elusive Teutonic God.
âWell Ben,â Susan purred, âWhat brings you to the gallery this fine afternoon?â
Ben was feeling a little uncomfortable, memories of that night coming flooding back, what a fool he had been. Maybe his love of fine art would give him a chance to take things further with the lovely Susan.
âI donât know if you really want to know, Susan,â he quipped, âit is all rather boring and mundane.â
Susan flashed him a quick glance with her emerald green eyes. â I donât think you could tell me anything boring,â she flirted.
Ben swallowed hard, sensing he was about to become the prey of this auburn haired lioness. âOK, Susan,â he confessed, âThis is the truth. A few years ago, in my Grandmotherâs will, I was left an etching. It was by an artist who I had never heard of, Wilhelm Wagner, was his name. Apparently, in 1920, he did a series of 20 nude etchings, only small drawings, but my Grandmother had posed for several of them. As payment, he gave her one of the drawings, the one titled âFrau bei der toiletteâ, roughly translated, âwoman getting dressed.â Ben watched Susan closely, noting a definite look of interest on her pretty face. I do not know all the details, but I suspect he may have been her lover. The print is not worth a fortune, but I see it as a part of history, and now it is mine. From this one etching, I have developed an interest in German Impressionism; that is why I am here today. I know the story may seem far-fetched, but if you would like to come to my home sometime, I would revel in the thrill of showing a very beautiful woman with an understanding of these things, a piece of art that could tell a thousand tales.â
Susan stood in awe of what she had heard. âWhy, Ben, are you inviting me to your home to see your etchings?â she giggled girlishly, feeling that her plan was falling into place.
Ben laughed, âMay seem like a pick up line, I suppose, but yes. Have you eaten lunch yet?â
âNo, I havenât,â came the response, âAre you going to shout me to a burger?â
Hmm, âI think that I can do better than that,â Ben quipped, â How about I fix you something hot, spicy and exotic?â
Susan flashed Ben a smile, not wanting to appear too eager. âAn offer too good to refuse, I have my car, I will follow you, OK?â
Ben and Susan walked together to the car park. He slipped behind the wheel of the latest Mercedes Benz, Susan climbing into a sporty-looking 4WD. She followed closely behind, having no idea of where they were headed. They reached the outer suburbs, but the journey continued, on and on they went, onto the highway, until they reached a very up-market seaside town. Ben indicated left, Susan followed, parks and lakes on each side of the road, this was surely a slice of heaven. Tree lined streets, beautiful sprawling homes with sports cars and speedboats in each driveway. This was the life that Susan craved. Finally, Ben slowed, and turned into his driveway, Susan parked closely behind. Each stepped from their vehicle. The petite redhead smoothed her figure- hugging white skirt, adjusted her aqua blouse, and walked to the front of her car, where Ben was standing, offering a friendly hand, to lead her along the winding path to his mansion.
âWelcome to my home,â Ben announced, with a sweeping bow.
âCharmed, Iâm sure,â came Susanâs reply, all very âGone with the windâ, but effectual at the time.
Ben offered his arm, and Susan quickly threaded her arm through it and allowed her self to be lead to the front door.
âWhere is your wife today, Ben?â Susan enquired.
âOh, she is out and about,â came his reply, âprobably at one of her ladies golf things, she is getting so involved, that she barely has any time for me. I am starting to think that she stays with me for the prestige, and my money. It may not be proper to say, but we havenât been intimate in 6 months. Not through lack of trying on my part, she just seems disinterested.â
The couple reached the steps leading to the ornate front door. Ben pressed a series of buttons on the keypad beside the portal, and seconds later, the huge double doors swung open, displaying the opulent marble floored entrance, and the spiral staircase beyond.
âWe have all afternoon,â Ben smiled, âlet me get that sizzle plate going, and we will eat first; would you like some iced tea?â
Ben reached inside the huge stainless steel refrigerator, grabbed a prepared jug of iced tea, and poured two glasses of the icy liquid. Handing the tall glass to Susan, he turned on the CD player, and the seductive voice of KD Lang filled the air.
âMake your self at home while I rustle up one of my gourmet delights,â he laughed.
âI hope you like this music,â he enquired. âBritt is really into this at the moment, and seems to have hidden everything else!â