Polychrome...a tale of many colors

POLYCHROME...a tale of many colors
(closed for Sienna, Dreamweaver and myself)


The action takes place some years ago, in the town of Clermont sur Lac, a well known artists and tourists retreat in the French Maritimes.

Julian Steele, the Professor, is an established painter, an American expatriate who has lived in Europe for more than a decade.

He spends part of each year in Clermont and owns a small house overlooking the lake.

This year he has brought someone with him. Gabrielle his lover and companion, a Parisian street girl who has set the town on its ear. She's an exotic, voluptuous creature who has all the men young and old lusting and all the women green with envy.

In spite of numerous opportunities to stray, Gabrielle seems totally devoted to the tall greying painter. That is until one day, the handsome writer comes to town.


This is a story that Sienna, Dreamweaver and myself have been working on via email for the last two weeks. It now seems the right time to bring it to LIT.
Hope you enjoy...

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Jules (Julian Steele)



The lake, as still as quicksilver at this time of the afternoon, provided the perfect background for the two pretty girls. A touch of rose madder to Hortense' cheeks, a light flecking of white for the glitter in Sophie's emerald eyes...yes...complete.

Jules stepped away from the small canvas leaning against the back of the green wrought iron bench and pronounced the work finished. A small crowd had gathered to watch and muttered in appreciation, some even clapped and then drifted away as the twins rushed around to see what the painter had done.
He looked at them in their matching yellow sundresses; lithe young bodies tanned brown by the Mediterranean sun and smiled. How gloriously young, he thought, fourteen, fifteen perhaps...
"Ahh Monsieur Steele, it is beautiful!" Hortense, the outspoken one was smiling delightedly, her arm around her sister.
"Isn't it Sophie?"
"Oh yes, mama will want to see it, I know she will."

Julian Steele carefully took the small oil sketch from the bench. "Now, now…it’s only a sketch remember, and besides any amateur with a brush, provided with such beauties before him, could have done the same."
The girls blushed, unused to flattery from so distinguished and respected a man as Professor Steele. Hortense stood on tip toe and kissed his bearded cheek,
"Let me show mama, please...please."

The painter laughed and released the work into her grasping hands, "All right, all right...you can have it. But be careful, it's still wet. And be sure to tell the Countess that it's only a sketch...remember that, only a sketch."

"Sly dog."
Graffini the poet was standing beside him. Jules lit a cigarette and watched the de Lavassere twins get into the black Peugeot limousine waiting at the park entrance. The cadaverous driver gave him an evil look and slammed the door.
"He doesn't approve of me my friend."

"He thinks you'll pluck their sweet little cherries before he does Jules. Your quite notorious you know."
The Poet sat heavily on the bench. He was fat and diabetic. The heat wasn't kind to him.

“All I wish to pluck is a bushel of francs from their mother with a portrait commission. Gabrielle has made an honest man of me."
The painter began putting his equipment away.

"Gabrielle...dolce Gabriella...what a vision...how is she in bed, old pal?. Tell me right now! What a spitfire..."
The poets voice trailed away as he imagined himself making love to the wild gypsy girl for the hundredth time.

She wasn't a real gypsy of course. Jules didn't know much about her background at all. Gabrielle was all the name she'd ever told him. Last winter a wolf-eyed waif had propositioned him on a cold back street in Paris. He'd taken her home to his bed, employed her as his model, taken her to his heart...yes he admitted it, his heart...and quickly became her protector, provider, companion and lover. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a perfect figure.
Long legs, high full breasts, a deep olive complexion, lustrous black hair, wide sensuous lips and strange grey green eyes. She might have been Basque...or Brazilian or... It was only guesses. Gabrielle claimed not to know and would tell him nothing of her past life.

She delighted him though. Oh how she delighted him! Their first weeks at lake Claire had been almost a honeymoon. She came alive in the bright fresh air of the Maritimes. He'd taken her down to the topless beaches at Antibes. They'd spent a weekend at Nice, another at Cannes. He enjoyed spoiling her; bought her all she asked for, revelled in her vitality, felt his own years drop away whenever he looked at her. He painted her over and over again. He made love to her over and over again, never tiring...

"Where is she Jules? I havn't seen her today. Is she sick?"
The poet interrupted his reverie.

"She's at the Market buying our supper I imagine."

"And she cooks too?" Graffini marvelled.

The painter laughed, "Oh yes, and quite atrociously but she's learning. You must come to dinner some evening. She...”
he stopped. Gabrielle was coming down the esplanade, shopping bags suspended from her arms and a furious look on her face.
"Uh Oh, I'm in trouble. She's found out I’ve been painting the Countess' girls all afternoon."

Graffini lurched up from the bench, "Maybe I'd better go then myfriend."
He took a last longing look at the femme fatale, "Good luck with that tiger of yours."

They'd only been in town a month, but already Gabrielle was known as much for her fiery temper as for her smouldering beauty. Steele stubbed out his cigarette and prepared for battle...

2. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna

“Excuse me, Miss.” I turned quickly to see the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever set eyes on in a long time. “Are you Gabrielle Delvigne? I recognised you earlier with your husband.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked. My glances covered every part of his face and it’s perfect features. He was a stranger that knew my name, and yet I had never seen him before in my life. “Do you know me?”

“I know you only by your images Gabrielle and I have been a secret admirer now for a few years. Allow me to introduce myself, Mark Nash, Exposé Magazine.” He held out his hand but I could not accept it with the shopping bags I was carrying. “I’m sorry Gabrielle, please accept my apologies.” He took one of the bags from me so that I could shake his hand. I was still bewildered by who this man was and as I took his hand he seemed to squeeze it in a very intimate way.

“So we have never met before?” I asked.

“Until now…never. But may I say Gabrielle, you are as beautiful in life as your photographs reveal. Truly amazing.” Those piercing blue eyes seemed as if they were undressing me, taking in every detail of my whole body, even the parts which were hidden beneath my dress. And I quickly realised that the photographs he spoke of were those I had posed for three years ago for the very magazine publication he had mentioned. “I have been following you and your husband in hope that I can interview you both. Waiting for the right moment for me to introduce myself.”

“Interview? Why would you want to do that?”

“My story. Your photographs illustrated my story in the magazine. And now I want to publish it as a novel, now that I have expanded it. I wanted to know more about you and Julian to clarify certain points.”

This strange but handsome man was beginning to make me feel very insecure in his presence. Things did not seem right about what he was telling me. Besides, the photographs were done only to provide illustration for a story about a fictitious character, not about me personally. And at the time I needed the money during my short stay in London.

“Julian is not my husband. We are lovers.”

“Excellent…I just knew it! That is even more amazing don’t you think?” He was becoming excited and I stepped back away from him. “Exactly as I plotted my story. The two of you living together as lovers. Please, allow me to carry your shopping back to your lodgings and meet the man himself.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know you at all and this just sounds crazy to me.” I took my shopping bag from him and walked away. I kept on looking behind me and saw him watching me until I left the store. All the way through the streets I could feel his presence close by, but I never looked back, in fear that he was following me.

Julian was in the park and I made a dash towards him. “What do you know of this man?” I asked. “Why did you not tell me about him?” I was furious and now very confused.

“Darling, what on earth are you saying?” Julian replied taking the bags from me. “Just calm down and tell me what this is all about…what man is this? Did someone try to hurt you?”

I realised then that Julian would know nothing of this stranger. I began to explain what had happened in the store as he packed away his brushes and pencils calmly. Julian did not seem to be all that surprised. But then he took everything in a steady stride and as usual he looked at me and shrugged.

“Gabrielle, he is probably someone who, like he said, is an admirer. But, if it makes you feel better, I will have his name checked out.”

“But he is following us.”

“From what I hear he gave you a lot details about himself. Maybe he is trying to interview us. I don’t see anything strange about that. But I myself know nothing of this work you did for that magazine and maybe we need to talk.”

Julian wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. I loved this man so much that holding back my past life was now becoming more and more difficult. But there were many reasons for doing so and telling him would only spoil the life we have together. I respected Julian and at the same time I was being unfair to him. At first, the mystery that I surrounded myself with may have intrigued him, but for how long? My cold reaction to his tender kiss was not as he expected.

“Gabrielle, what is bothering you so much about this man? What is on your mind? This is not like you.”

That afternoon back at the house I planned a meal for three as I knew that Julian had invited Mario for dinner. I was preparing and cutting the vegetables for a beef casserole, and one that I prided myself on doing the best of all.

Julian came up behind me and slowly he placed his soft yet strong hands on my chest, something that to me was very erotic and Julian knew exactly how I longed to be touched. His fingers closed in on my hardening nipples, pressing gently against the thin cotton of my dress. “I love you so much Gabrielle…” he whispered in my ear and I turned my head closer to snuggle him. “I want to make love to you forever or for as long as God is willing…” My heart began to beat faster as I felt the warmth of his tenderness and slowly we kissed, long, deep and passionate. His hand trailed down my body to my buttocks, and he began to raise my dress slowly.

“Sorry to disturb you!” Mario knocked on the door and let himself in as always. “I have just seen someone who was asking about you two. And you are going to be famous.” Julian stopped what he intended to do but remained holding me close. I was hoping that we would be left alone, but Mario was now someone I had become used to and also fond of as a friend, so being disturbed by him was something that happened all to frequently. His visits were unpredictable, as he was, and I also enjoyed his ability to come up with snippets of poetry that he would spontaneously quote from the top of his head.

“Famous you say? Then please Mario, tell us what you know?” Julian asked with a smile as I continued to cut the vegetables, both hiding our disappointment at being disturbed.

3. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.

Bumping around in the back of the old fruit and vegetable van wasn’t my idea of first class travel, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. I knew I was doomed when I went to collect a hired car from the Hertz desk and they told me that all they could give me was an old Citroen CV. I was on a pretty tight budget, having taken a year of absence from the magazine, so I accepted it anyway. Big mistake, I was still a hundred or so kilometres from Clermont, when smoke began to pour from the exhaust, the cylinder head gasket had blown and if I didn’t get it repaired soon, the engine would seize solid.

I phoned the local Hertz agent and they arranged to get the car taken away, unfortunately without being able to supply a replacement, hence my coming to be on the back of this fruit lorry heading for Clermont and not driving there as planned.

The Editor of Exposé was very good to let me take a year out, but as she knew of my project and also wanted a few favours in return, she was happy to oblige. Although being seventeen years my senior, at forty-five, she was still a very desirable woman and I was quite flattered that she wanted ‘favours’ from me and I was more than willing to supply them.

Ever since writing a short story, which I illustrated with some pictures of Gabrielle Delvigne, I had become obsessed with the idea of expanding it into a novel and eventually discovering the real truth behind her and her new lover, Professor Julian Steele. Through my research I could discover very little about Gabrielle, other than she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen and that she had done those pictures because she was short of money. I had always been an admirer of the Professor’s work and at the beginning of this year he began to produce haunting pictures of one particular model. Yes, it was those paintings of Gabrielle that had set me out on this quest.

Through the grapevine I learnt that Julian and Gabrielle had become lovers and I knew that he had a summer retreat in Clermont and just hoped that they would both be there. I had introduced Julian into my novel and wanted to interview them together. For a couple of reasons really, one, to let them know that they were a part of, a soon to be published, fictional book based on Gabrielle’s life; and two, to meet her in the flesh, a dream I had harboured for a very long time.

I could hardly believe my eyes because there, laden down with shopping bags, was Gabrielle herself and she was even more gorgeous in real life. I tried to appear calm and hoped she couldn’t hear my heart beating like a steam train.

“Excuse me, Miss. Are you Gabrielle Delvigne? I recognised you earlier with your husband.” I could see the look of confusion cross her pretty face, so I hurriedly introduced myself to her. When I managed to shake her hand after relieving her of some of her bags, I felt a bolt of electricity shoot right through my whole being and I kept contact a little longer than was customary. I tried to keep my eyes from straying over her luscious body but from her look of disapproval, not very successfully, and I explained that I wanted to interview her and the Professor together, to enable me to finish my novel with a certain amount of truth, as well as fiction. My offer to help her carry bags to the villa and meet with Julian was dismissed out of hand and before I could explain any further she grabbed her bags and left.

I watched her walk away, with fear in my heart that I had upset her and wouldn’t get another chance to meet her or, ever get to meet with Julian. But, somehow, I knew that from this day forward, all our lives would change considerably.

Jules


Mario Fabrucci made it a point to know everything that went on in Lake Clare. He had run unsuccessfully for mayor at least three times and had he been able to count on the entire Italian vote in the town would have won easily. But the Italian community alas was as disorganized as Mario himself and so crusty old Claude Jean Degas, a supposed grand nephew of THE Degas was re-elected time after time, leaving the defeated Mario Fabrucci to lick his wounds in the impossible clutter of his antique store and gallery.



“Then please Mario, tell us what you know?”
My simple words launched a discourse that took us through drinks and appetizers and only then ended as the voluble Italian dived into the coq au vin.

“So mon petite,”
I looked across the table at Gabrielle. “Your new admirer is a man with a purpose, a crusade to immortalize us! I'm amazed! Why we'll be like Eloise and Abelard…”

“Romeo and Juliet!” Mario chimed in.

“Cesar and Cleopatra, more like, my friend…I believe Romeo was a tad younger than I.” I sipped my wine and smiled at Gabrielle who so far had said little.
“So my Temptress of the Nile, those must have been some pictures…I’d love to see them.”

“They were nothing. A passing thing…a job no more.”
Gabrielle sighed and pushed back from the table.
“I don’t even remember what the stupid things looked like.”

Fabrucci whistled,” I do…in fact I have them.”
Two sets of eyes turned to the would be mayor. One set frankly curious, the other obviously anxious and aprehensive.
“I have collected Exposé, since it’s first issue…for the articles of course.” He cleared his throat.
“After I talked to Mark, I went back and found the pictures…OOH LA LA!”



“Mark is it…Friends already?”
I was amused to discover that Mario had an interest in such matters and that he'd become familiar already with the mysterious ‘Mark’. I gave Gabrielle a sideward glance.
“Well, the suspense is killing me lets see them.”



“Oh by all means you meddler you!” Gabrielle shouted, “Let’s take a look and get it over with!”
She didn't sound very amused at all as she stood up quickly with an expression on her face that told me that there were secrets in her closet she'd rather not reveal.

5. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

I walked over to the kitchen window and folded my arms, looking out towards the setting sun, over the rooftops of nearby houses. Mario began to show Jules the magazine he had brought with him. “Gabrielle, I don’t understand why you are reacting in such a way. These pictures are exquisite.”

“Hmmm…I agree Mario. Very artistic I must say.” Jules added. “And you are much younger looking too. They I pictured you in your youth, a budding Venus perhaps. Truly a magnificent example of…”

“Stop mocking!” I turned to both of them, knowing what those pictures revealed of me. They were pornographic and I regretted doing them, as they were not the way I wanted the world to see me. “I was almost forced to do those. I was desperate, can’t you understand that?”

“But Gabrielle, they are as Jules said…magnificent examples of your splendid beauty…” I cut Mario short of his comment by staring at him. He was a very nice man, but never knew when to stop talking once he started. “…sorry.”

Jules grinned, looking at the magazine pages and then at me simultaneous. “They are not me. I was playing a character in this man’s story.” I began to explain. “A fantasy figure that was all.” I sat beside Jules and continued. “It was my first time in acting. Yes…I wanted to act and this was my first ever opportunity of showing people that mattered that I could do it.”

“Gabrielle, this isn’t acting. This is just posing for an erotic magazine. And you have nothing to hide from me, or Mario for that matter. I do understand the circumstances that forced you to do this kind of work. And I think they are quite artistic in many ways.”

“You do?” I held his arm gently, atleast his reply was sincere, or I had hoped it would be. “You mean they don’t make me look like a common slut?”

“Of course not.” Mario replied.

“Hush…I was asking Jules!” Mario held up his hand in apology and carried on drinking. And it was only Jules thoughts that mattered to me at that moment in time. “You don’t think that they make a bad impression of me?”

“Not at all. But this is just the first issue. There are more pictures I take it?”

Then I realised that the third issue contained a picture that broke barriers for that magazine. The controversial issue that nearly put Exposé out of business because of my image. “Yes. But remember Jules, I needed the money.”

Mario produced the other copies from inside his jacket and looked at me. “I think even these are very good Gabrielle. Although I was going to hold onto them for a little longer before showing Jules…you understand.”

Jules took the copies from Mario’s hands quicky. “I admit I have heard about this publication but know very little of its background.” I then sat back and waited in nervous anticipation, as that moment of judgement was not yet over.

6. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.

As I watched the lovely Gabrielle storm off in the direction of their villa, I saw her keep looking over her shoulder and wondered if she thought I was going to follow her. Another glance over her shoulder caused Gabrielle to almost trip over a raised kerb stone and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing and rush to her assistance, but I held back, not wanting to upset her any further. After already meeting a very close friend of the Professors, Mario Fabrucci, there was no need. A few drinks in the local bar and he filled in a lot of my missing knowledge about the Professor and Gabrielle.

I went back to the bar where I first met the aspiring mayor, Mario, ordered a chilled beer and I sat down to write up some notes. It seems that Gabrielle had made the first approach to the Professor while working as a ‘lady of the night’ in Paris. He was instantly smitten by her waif like appearance and took her under his wing. That was when his paintings of her first became available and rekindled my interest in finding her. Mario didn’t really approve of the relationship between the two of them, saying that he thought she was just after his money and a place to live.

When I introduced myself to him properly and I told him that I was hoping to finish a novel and was on leave from my job with the Exposé magazine, he almost choked on his Campari and soda water.

“I have every issue of that wonderful publication. And you wrote a short story, using Gabrielle’s pictures to illustrate it?” He asked, “Which issues? Do you remember Mark?” He went on, still spluttering and wiping his face with a slightly less than clean handkerchief.

“It would be three years ago now, as I remember, I never met Gabrielle, but I have enjoyed her pictures immensely ever since” I explained to him, giving him a sly wink. I laughed as he said that he had suddenly remembered an appointment and would I excuse him. I did, but not before obtaining the address of the villa first.

I let my mind go back over those pictures and remembered how the ones that were used in issue three had almost got us all convicted, by the ridiculous indecency laws. The papers had been full of innuendos, regarding the alternative uses of Mars bars, and the rumours of how Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithful once shared that particular chocolate bar. It had swept through the music industry and Mars themselves took advantage of the free publicity. And Gabrielle was a beauty, even then, and I have had many a sweet dream thinking of how it would be, to make love with her.

The story I wrote, was of a brightly intelligent country girl who wanted to find her fame and fortune and had decided that the only way that she could ever hope to achieve that, was to leave the farm and head for the bright city lights of London, as countless others had done before her; and the experiences she would encounter while trying to achieve her goal. The magazine had always sailed a bit close to the wind regarding erotic stories, but I must admit, I was taken aback when Helena, the editor, suggested that we illustrate the story and handed me Gabrielle’s photographs.

As I looked through the pictures, getting more excited by the minute, she was reading the first episode of my short story and I guess the part in it, where Nancy, the young girl in the story, was picked up hitch hiking by a long distance lorry driver and how she was almost raped by him and his mate. The story was making Helena quite aroused, as much as the photographs of Gabrielle were to me. I felt her hand on my thigh and when I looked across at her, I saw her face was slightly flushed and her nipples were standing erect. It was made quite obvious, by the lack of a bra under her tight sweater. I smiled at her and her hot hand travelled into my groin and she found my erection just as hot and straining against my tight jeans.

She slowly sank to her knees in front of me, unzipped my trousers and released my throbbing cock. She took it to her lips and softly planted a kiss on the bulbous head, letting her tongue swirl around the glans and the tip tease the pre cum from my slit. I groaned quietly as she took more and more of me until I had no more to give and I felt her throat muscles milking the head. I looked down at her and into her eyes, wide open with lust and my warning, that if she continued, I would cum in her mouth. It went completely unheeded and she sucked harder. My release, when it came, filled her mouth completely and as she swallowed, with some escaping from her lips and I have seen nothing more erotic than this beautiful, older woman taking the spillage on her fingers and licking it off. She got off the floor, sat in my lap and told me that it was now her turn for me to pleasure her. However, that is another story.

What was worrying me now, was how to get an introduction to the Professor’s villa. Perhaps if I worked on Mario a bit more, then he could convince Julian that I was genuine. As these thoughts were going around in my head, a large fat guy came into the bar, to cool off I guess, as the sweat was running off him in rivers, he did not look very healthy at all and when I heard him ask for a diet coke, I suspected he had a medical problem. I watched on and took notice.

“Ah Graffini, you old devil you!” the bartender retorted. “You’ve been letching after the Professor’s new piece of ass, have you? You should stick to your poetry you old fool, he is not about to share her with you.”

Jules

"You know I might be able to use some of these for a new series of paintings, I'll call it, Gabrielle Trés Erotiques." I mused out loud, although thinking quite seriously about it.

"Really?" Mario riffled through the pages, wondering how the photographs in the magazine would look as my paintings.
"Which ones?" he asked.

"Why I think the one with the long green European cucumber would be good...and of course the candy bar would be a natural." I stared at Gabrielle’slovely back, waiting for inevitable reaction.

She turned quickly, "Oh shut up and stop looking at those stupid things you two. That was all in the past. Over...forgotten. Now can we please have a drink before we eat?"

I gave out a long sigh and nodded to Mario to put the magazines up.
"Hardly over my dear. Your past seems to be right here in Lake Clare, looking for you." I told her calmly.

"Say I brought a fine bottle of Ste Emilion!" Mario said trying to soften the mood,
"I know how much you like it Gabrielle." She looked at him, still pre-occupied with the thoughts of her resurected past that seemed to disturb her so much but she forced a smile.

"Save that for dinner Your Honor, let's enjoy something a bit stiffer right now shall we?"
I pulled a bottle of brandy from the kitchen cabinet and set it on the table.

"You drink to much of that stuff Jules…it's awful."
Gabrielle took a bottle of Evian from the fridge.
"Mario, brandy or good clean water?"
The antique dealer grinned back at her. I could see that look of longing in his expression. He never could hide his feelings God bless him.

"Both would be good I think, that is…if you don't mind of course.”

I sipped my brandy and ruminated over the fact that Fabrucci had a crush on my pretty young mistress. But The whole damned town did, well, the male population at least. I regarded myself as not being the jealous type and recall there only having been one time...*put that one away Jules*
The pictures were a shock though, quite a surprise. Id known Gabrielle first as a whore, then as a model, then as a lover. There had been no hint that she had done this kind of thing before. Should it surprise me at all?

I stood up, "Mario, excuse us for a moment please.”
I looked at Gabrielle and held out my hand to her.
"Come into the studio for a moment you bad girl. I want to show you something."

"Oh?"
she set down her water by the sink and then crossed her arms over her voluptuous breasts. "What is it?"

“Just come with me…”
I led her by the hand to the small studio I had set up in the house. "Come here little one, it's something I have to show you." I could see that Mario was now becoming quite uneasy as we left him alone in the kitchen. [/FONT]



Mark Nash made himself known at the bar. He'd became an expert in familiarising himself with the locals wherever his travels took him. Graffini was no exception.

"Why thank you, but I should buy you the drink. Afterall you are the stranger here." Graffini sized up the newcomer, a bit travel worn, but wearing good clothes and a very expensive camera around his neck. "Are you here to document our pretty town?" Graffini enquired.

Mark settled back in the shadowed coolness of the lounge. The bar was the only air-conditioned place in Lake Clare, besides the cinema.
"No…I think that's already been done many times.”
He leaned forwards. “I'm looking for a girl. A very beautiful girl." He explained in almost a conspiritorial whisper.

"Ahh, a woman is it? Cherchez la femme, eh?" the Poet laughed his reply.

Together they drank and talked the rest of the evening, and by the time the sun went down, there was very little about the resort and it's inhabitants, especially the Professor and his sexy lover which Mark Nash did not know.

8. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

Once Julian and I were inside the studio he shut the door quietly and locked it with the key. “Hush…” he said, holding a finger across his lips. “I want to make love to you my darling. But, I want you to be as noisy as you can be, so that Mario can hear you.”

“What? I don’t understand…why?” I asked. I stepped backwards slowly as he moved towards me until I felt the edge of his desk. “What is this game Julian? Stop it now, please!”

“No my darling.” He quickly held me by the hips and eased himself between my thighs and then he began to pull up my dress slowly. “I want Mario to hear us making love. Hot, wild and passionate.” His fingers slid along my thighs, making me open them wider for him. “He is desperate to make love to you. But, I will not allow that Gabrielle. Do you understand what I am telling you?” His eyes stared into mine and I felt safe but still unsure of his intentions.

“Are you crazy Julian?”

“Not crazy with madness my darling, but crazy with lust. You make me feel this way. Like you drive all the men crazy with your…”

He stopped and looked down as if suddenly taking control of himself, but then I felt his fingers pulling aside my panties and allowing one finger to slide between my partially open lips. That feel of him inside of me, whether his finger or his cock just made me freeze and I wanted him even more.

I lay back onto the desk and gave him what he wanted. Not one, not two, but three fingers I could feel pressing and opening my lips wider with one gently touching my clit. I began to breathe deeper and then lament my feelings louder and louder still as he played with me, touching my most sensitive part.

“Tell me Gabrielle when you are ready for me. I am hard. I have been hard all-day and waiting for this moment to arrive. Do you hear me Gabrielle?”

“Yesss! I hear you.”

“Good my darling…I see your juices are beginning to flow, making you so wet for me. My God Gabrielle! I love your scent and the way you drive me crazy!”

As I moaned, his voice grew louder, almost shouting so that Mario could hear us. But my moans were real enough for what he was doing to me. My orgasm was already racing towards a climax and I gripped the edge of the desk with my fingers tightly, holding back the rush of sensations that were pounding through me. “Fuck me Julian! Fuck me hard!” I cried out.

Without hesitation, he thrust himself into me, filling my sex with his hard throbbing manhood. I gasped and let out a long drawn out yell for Mario to hear and to let my lover know that I was on the verge of cumming. I lifted my head and watched Julian lean forward, tearing open my dress to expose my breasts.

“I love those magnificent tits Gabrielle!” he shouted. I felt my release washing over his cock as it slipped free and then he thrust it back inside of me as his tongue licked my nipple playfully.

“Julian…” I gasped, but this time a whisper, not meant for the ears of Mario. “Julian, I love you so much…” He looked up at me and I wanted him to know that this game was also real to me. “I really do love you my darling.” I told him, running my hand through his hair and onto the side of his face. “I will always love you and I have never wanted another man since I met you.”

“Do you mean that Gabrielle?”

“Yes…I mean that.” I sent him a reassuring smile and he returned it before continuing our lovemaking. I felt him relax and forget that Mario was listening behind the door as we both made passionate love. And I knew then that Julian was worried about my past now that he had seen the pictures. He was beginning to doubt my fidelity and me. And I also knew that this stranger in town who was looking for us…no…looking for me, would begin to reveal more than I really wanted.

9. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.


When I heard the barman mention ‘the Professor’s new piece of ass’, my ears pricked and I knew I had to speak to this strange looking guy, so what better way than to buy him a drink,

“Allow me the honour Monsieur, my name is Mark Nash and I would be glad of your company for a while.” I said to Graffini. He tried to refuse and offered to get me a drink instead, but, I insisted and soon we were chatting like old friends. It transpired that Antonio Graffini, had diabetes, but it was well under control, so he did not refuse my offer of more drink. And it was a shame about the expenses I was running up during this investigation, but I’m sure I was able to talk Helena around those issues on my return, especially if I allowed her to have the first option on any story that may come out of this year-long trip.

As Antonio and I continued to talk, I managed to steer the conversation back to the Professor and Gabrielle. He only managed to underline what Fabrucci had told me earlier, but in his case, he was all for the relationship, saying that he had never seen Julian look so invigorated and happy with life. I made a mental note, careful not to mention about my feelings for Gabrielle, as he was obviously quite close to Julian and anything I might say would get back to him quicker than a rat up a rusty steam pipe.

I did find out a lot about the town and its residents however, and one particular piece of information I found interesting was that the local Countess, a widowed lady in her forties, held an annual barbecue for the villagers and selected guests. Two people would definitely be there, the Professor and Gabrielle. This could be my window of opportunity and if I could contrive myself an invitation, I could meet with them and try to gain their confidence.

Before we knew it, the sun had set and Antonio said that he should say good night and that he would leave me to the luxury of the air-conditioning and a pleasant evening. I replied likewise, telling him that he had been most helpful and that I hoped to see him again at the Countess’s barbecue.

We had consumed a fair amount of drink between us, so I decided to go for a breath of fresh air to clear my head. On leaving the bar, I felt the warm air hit me like an open furnace, because even with the sun down it was still very warm and humid. An ice cream, I thought, that was the answer. I set off in the direction of the lake where, so I had been told, there were a couple of shops nearby which sold some exquisite, locally produced ice cream and that I should definitely sample their wares.

As I was making my choice from their enormous selection, a large limousine drew up outside the shop and out got two very attractive young girls and a very beautiful woman, whom I took to be their mother. I picked the one remaining truffle ice cream and heard a small cry of disappointment from one of the girls, “Oh! I’m sorry, is that you’re favourite?” I asked, seeing her large sad eyes looking at me. “Ok! I will not be the cause of anything to bring sadness to one as beautiful as you Princess, you may have it, in fact, let me buy you all an ice cream. It is not often that I have the occasion to be in the presence of such loveliness as you three surely are.”

They laughed and tried to refuse my offer, but I would hear none of their refusals and duly paid for theirs along with mine. There was a slight breeze coming in off the lake, which along with the ice creams, helped to take the edge of the humidity and we all leant against the railings and gazed across the moonlit waters. I nearly fell over the railings when the mother turned to me and asked, “Are you staying in the village for long monsieur?”

She introduced herself as the Countess Louise de Lavassere. “I am so sorry I don’t know your name, but I am holding a barbecue for the village people and some invited guests and to repay you for your kindness, I would like to ask that you consider attending, but please, just call me Louise.” I could not believe my luck and before she could change her mind, I quickly replied.

“I would be honoured to attend your barbecue Countess; my name is Mark Nash, a writer for Exposé magazine and I am on an extended break to complete a novel that I’m currently working on. In fact, it is based on a couple living not far from here, Professor Julian Steele and his beautiful young partner, Gabrielle Delvigne. Do you know them Louise?” I sensed that we had company and sure enough the Countess’s chauffeur had joined us and was giving me the evil eye. When he spoke, his menacing voice sent shivers down my spine.

“My Lady, I think it is time we got the girls back to the chateau, the air is getting colder and we don’t want them catching a chill now, do we?” His eyes never left me as he spoke and suddenly, I felt that chill to which he spoke of. The Countess looked a little annoyed at this untimely intrusion by the chauffeur.

“Monsieur Nash, I believe Drago is right, we shall have to leave, it has been nice meeting you and I will look forward to seeing you again at the barbecue.” Despite Drago’s presence, I took her hand and kissed it.

“Me too Louise, and may I wish you and the girls, sweet dreams tonight.” Much to Drago’s annoyance, I also gave each of the girls a similar kiss, which made them blush profusely. And as the limousine pulled away, I caught a glimpse of the Countess smiling wistfully in my direction and I wished that we could have had a longer chat.

As I pondered over the similarities between Louise and Helena, I found myself walking towards Julian’s villa and made a mental note to phone Helena in the morning and get the team to do some deeper digging into Gabrielle’s past. She seemed to disappear for about two years, between doing the photo-shoot for Exposé and becoming Julian’s favourite model and I wanted to know why.

The house was quite secluded, but well lit so I assumed that they were at home. I decided to get closer and try and catch sight of them together. As I approached, I heard the unmistakeable noises of furious lovemaking taking place coming from an open window. And following those noises, I came to a part of the house, which looked like it could be the Professor’s studio.

As I was checking that my camera was on the correct settings, I very nearly walked slap bang into Mario Fabrucci. The dirty old man, I thought to myself, at least I had an excuse to spy on them, as I wanted photographic evidence of their love for one another, for the purposes of my novel. Well, that was my excuse and I was sticking by it. I obviously wasn’t going to get any closer to the real action going on inside the studio, so I shot off a few pictures of Mario, doing what Peeping Toms do I guess; and I left them all to it.

11. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

Making love with Julian was one of the most beautiful things I had ever experienced so far. And it was true what all those philosophers said, that a real artist with passion in his heart and soul could also be a great lover. But this time, as well as that passion, Julian was full of something else. He began to despise the attention other men gave me, and now an impending new threat from my past.

“Well, I think I should leave you two in peace for the rest of the evening.” Mario said, about to gather up the magazines from the table. Julian placed his hand over them and smiled.

“No my friend. Leave those with me for a while. I need to study them further if you don’t mind.”

I was standing by the dining room window with my back to both of them and listening to their conversation. It was interesting sometimes listening to them without seeing their expressions and I could detect that new strangeness in Julian’s tone of voice. Mario was trying to be polite when he suggested leaving, but I knew that he wanted something else. For all these months we had known him, I could see that Mario was a voyeur and he wished not only to watch Julian paint me, but perhaps he aspired to the belief that he would even share me.

“Don’t go Mario.” I turned and walked towards him. “Please stay a while longer and share more wine with us, and I think Julian is to start a new painting. One I am sure that was inspired by those photographs. And one I think you would like to watch him begin.”

Mario looked at Julian, quickly searching for approval, but Julian poured a fresh glass of port avoiding us both a reply, knowing that I was now making suggestions, which were contrary to his thoughts. “Well Julian…what do you think?” I asked.

“I don’t think its…”

“Nonsense! You told me that now was the right time. And you did promise Mario, remember?” I smiled at Julian as he looked at me and then at poor Mario, the pawn we were now both manipulating in our little game. “I’ll go and prepare myself before it gets too late.”

“That is fine my darling,” he raised his glass to me, “I will just go and set up the canvass. Mario can join me and watch how a great master prepares for a future masterpiece.”

“Yes, I would love to.” Mario replied, grinning with enthusiasm. “And may I just say…what a truly wonderful masterpiece it will be.”

I left them and made my way to the bedroom, thinking about the game I had just invented and why I did it. Because now I realised that Julian was becoming dangerously suspicious and at the same time his love for me was turning defensive, despite the fact that he would forgive anything I did in the past. That kind of love was not what I wanted for both of us, because it can ruin everything we had that was so good and so precious between both of us. I wanted him to realise that I was his and only his deep inside and he would have to learn the truth and reality of everything about me, that is, before it hits so hard.

And was I testing his fidelity as well as my own? Perhaps I was. Although I would never touch Mario in an intimate way, beyond a simple kiss on his cheek, sex was only a thing that I now reserved for my Julian and with those who he wished to share. My recent past and my habitual behaviour was still hanging over me it seemed. I was becoming hungry again and even more so in the face of being discovered.

12. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.


There was more going on in that household than met the eye, I thought, as I made my way back to my accommodation. What would make Julian and Gabrielle leave Mario alone while they made love? Why was the window left open? Did they know that he would spy on them? Did that increase their pleasure, openly screwing in front of their guest? I knew Gabrielle was not ashamed to show off her body, but Julian?

I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this and now I had my invitation to Louise’s barbecue, I would at least get to meet them, face to face. A prospect I found to be most appealing, I must admit. And, of course, having an opportunity of getting to know the Countess herself, without Drago dogging her every footstep, I hoped. There might even be another story there too, she seemed very compliant when he suggested that they return to the chateau and that somewhat surprised me.

“Well monsieur, did you get the ice cream you wanted?” Philippe, the owner of the Inn said on my arrival. I told him I had and went on to tell him about meeting the Countess and how I got my invitation to the barbecue. I also mentioned how I thought it was strange that Drago had so much influence over her.

He grabbed a jug of wine and asked me to sit with him and he would fill me in on what he knew of that situation. It would seem that when the Count and Countess first moved into the chateau, about ten years ago, they employed a lot of outside craftsmen to carry out the renovations that they required to have done. Along with the craftsmen, came an army of labourers, mostly French Algerians, some of whom were illegal immigrants and on the run from the police. Rumour has it, that one evening when the Count was away on business, a group of them got drunk and tried to rape the Countess as she was taking her evening stroll through the grounds, and that it was Drago who came to her rescue. The relationship between the Count and the Countess was never the same after that fateful night, the Count somehow blamed the Countess for provoking the attack on her and he took to drinking heavily.

The relationship deteriorated and the couple were constantly arguing, which caused great distress, especially to the Countess, and often Drago would take her and the girls on long drives to comfort her. This also did not please the Count and in a drunken rage one day, he fired him. A couple of days later, while the Count was negotiating the twisty narrow roads in his BMW, the cars mysteriously left the road and plunged down a cliff. As the car was burnt out completely, no mechanical failure could be established and it was assumed that the Count had been drunk and lost control, so causing his own death.

Philippe gave me a sly wink as he recounted the last part and said that since the Count’s death, Drago has been the head man at the chateau and; apart from the annual barbecue, which the Countess insists on holding, there are very few visitors allowed access.

I thanked him for relaying this information to me and paid for the carafe of wine, which I am sure, he banked on me doing anyway. I took my leave and retired upstairs to my room. Mulling over the events of that evening, I couldn’t wait until the morning and immediately set up my laptop and logged on to my emails.

Apart form the usual junk mail, there was only one of any interest. It was from Helena and I must admit a very erotic description of what ‘favour’ she would like on my return. I would reply to that one later, but for now, I wanted all she could find on Gabrielle, Julian and now, the de Lavassere family. I quickly composed my request to Helena, sent it and shut down my laptop.

I decided to take a cold shower before trying to get to sleep, because even with the air conditioning running flat out, the atmosphere was still very humid. There wasn’t the icy blast that there would have been in London, but the cool water was most welcome and as I let it pour over me, my mind wandered back to Helena’s email. Unconsciously I began to stroke my hardening penis and it was soon standing hard and proud. Suddenly it struck me, it wasn’t Helena’s picture I had in my head, it was that minx Gabrielle. We had only met once and she had got to me already, albeit I had fantasised about her often since I first saw her pictures and wrote about her. Damn! The sooner we met, the better; and with that one last thought, my knees went weak and my life giving semen was on its way down the drain.

I fell asleep with a multitude of thoughts going through my head and could hardly wait to see what my email would produce from Helena.

Jules


"Why out here?" I asked. Gabrielle stood on the terrace; a thin white silk robe was her only cover.

"Because it's a beautiful night, just look at the moon up there, three quarters full. It won't cool off for several hours yet." She replied. I stood on tiptoe and lit the last of the Japanese lanterns that still hung above us, a last remnant of Gabby's birthday party a few weeks ago.

"That still doesn't give you much light to work with Julian."
Mario's voice came from the doorway. I ignored it. I no longer wanted him here but was curious as to what sort of game my lover was playing. She had never asked in all the times I had worked with her, to have an audience. I knew she wasn't attracted to the man at all. I assumed in fact that she barely tolerated him for my sake...very, very curious.
"Let me fetch a lamp for you, surely...."

"No." I interrupted, "I want the light of these lanterns, no more, the play of them and the moonlight will be a challenge. Besides, I know her body very well my friend. I could draw her in the dark."

"I'll bring a canvas and paint from the studio then..."
Mario kept trying.

I shook my head. "Just bring my sketchbook and some charcoal. I'll need to begin this with some sketches, I won't commit to canvas yet." Mario bustled off, leaving the acrid scent of his cigarette behind him. I took Gabby by the shoulders and turned her around, then asked her;
"Why?"

She shrugged, "I don't know...maybe I'm an exhibitionist."

"You are an exhibitionist." I replied. No one else I knew looked forward to the nude beaches on the Cote d'Azure more than my sweet mistress. "Why Mario…and why tonight?"

She laughed and kissed my cheek. "I'm wicked aren't I? Maybe just to tease the poor man."
Another kiss, a long one...melting lips and dancing tongues.

"Excuse me!"
Mario was back, clutching my big black sketchbook and a fistful of charcoal. Disks of perspiration noticeable under his arms. Yet, it wasn't that hot.

"Do you want me over there?" Gabby pointed to the wicker settee against the wall.

"No, stand over by the railing, leaning back, so the moonlight bathes your breasts and the warm light of the lanterns falls across your shoulders."

She frowned, "Standing Jules... the whole time?"
She walked over and stood where I had indicated.
"And look, you can see us from the street. There is Phillipe's place right over there."

I took the pad from Mario and laughed. "But you're an exhibitionist remember, a wicked girl, and you just admitted it. It shouldn't bother you one bit. Rest one hand on the railing and you can lean back against it. This will be a short pose, very easy for you."

She was not convinced, but she did it anyway. The white wrap slithered to the floor around her ankles. Moonlight played provocatively across her body, and I found myself beginning to stiffen.
"Get that will you Mario, I'll need to see her feet." Hurriedly, Mario dashed over and knelt down before her, gathering the silk up in his hands. He was sweating when he handed it to me...poor man. A warm blush of lantern light washed Gabby’s cheek and shoulder, and the rest of her was tinted almost blue from the cold light of the moon.

"Tricky lighting." Mario noted, observing the scene as I settled into my chair to draw.

"Yes it is. Very tricky indeed." I replied.

14. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

“You know, I have to say this, but Gabby is certainly a natural,” said Mario as he watched me posing. “Beautiful, absolutely stunning…” I sent him a wink and a smile, which made his eyes stare at me even more. And I noticed Jules, concentrating as he sketched with a wide grin across his lips.

“Why not dedicate this to Mario, Jules. I think he deserves it, don’t you?” I asked.

“I’d be delighted. Thank you!” Mario replied. Jules turned and looked at him and then at me. I could read his mind like a book as he tried to decipher my ulterior motive behind this whole suggestion. “I know exactly where I should hang it.”

“Let me guess Mario.” I said. “Your bedroom? So that when you are alone at night you can rest your tired weary eyes upon me and dream about all the things you would so much love to…”

“Gabby!” Jules interrupted, “I think we should invite that writer to dinner tomorrow. You know, the one who wrote the story you did those pictures for. We must try to contact him.”

“I know exactly where to contact him.” Mario replied.

Suddenly the game I was playing lost its appeal at the thought of that man actually being invited. I would have preferred that he search us out, so that I could avoid him a little longer.

“Well, Gabby, what do you say to that?” Jules asked as Mario thumbled through his jacket pockets looking for something. Presumably a calling card from the writer. “I don’t see any reason not to. Besides, I am sure there are good reasons why he wants to continue the story and visit you, no sorry, us in particular.”

I noticed Jules’s deliberate mistake and simply smiled in reply, still holding the pose, watching Mario split his concentration between me and whatever he was searching his jacket for.

“Found it! Yes, here it is. A mobile telephone number.” Mario held up the small calling card and then he handed it to Jules.

15. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.

The incessant ringing from my mobile phone brought me out of a restless sleep. I was a bit like a child waiting for Christmas Day since…since sending off my email to Helena.

“Hi, this is Mark speaking and do you know what time of night it is?” I asked, wondering who on earth I knew who would call me so late at night. It was a little fresher than earlier, so I made my way to the balcony and threw open the French doors. What a beautiful night it was, the moon and stars casting an eerie glow over the whole lake.

“Ah, Mr.Nash, the night is yet young and as you can see, if you look across to your right, our evening is not yet over. I am Professor Julian Steele and I understand that you wish to make the acquaintance of myself and Gabrielle, who, I believe you have already met?” The rich baritone voice was unmistakeably that of the professor, I had heard him lecture often enough, so I should recognise him. I looked in the direction he told me and sure enough, there they were standing in a group on their balcony. Julian waved across to me and I waved back.

If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, it appeared that Gabrielle was standing as naked as the day she was born and although I had so recently shot my load, just thinking of her naked, like she is now, I felt myself hardening with renewed vigour. My reverie was interrupted by Julian’s deep laugh:

“I see you have spotted the lovely Gabby Mr.Nash. She has been posing for me tonight and from what I see from here, maybe I should paint you naked as well.” I looked down and suddenly realised what he was laughing about, I was also stark bollock naked, my usual for sleep in hot climates and my cock was clearly getting quite excited. I grabbed a towel from one of the chairs and hastily wrapped it around my waist, quite glad that they couldn’t see my embarrassment from that distance. He laughed again and said, “A shame to cover up such a fine physique monsieur, another time perhaps? The reason I called is to see if you would like to join us for dinner tomorrow night. I am as intrigued as you are and would like to know more about this novel you are writing. We might even be able to entice the Countess Louise to join us, especially if she knew we had the mysterious stranger at our table. So what do you say, will you be here for eight-thirty tomorrow evening?”

“I would love to have dinner with you professor, you can count me in and thank you for pointing out my lack of clothing and, by the way, I will be suitably attired tomorrow evening, should I get a dinner jacket?” Again that laugh and I wondered if he was making fun of me.

“No Mr.Nash, as you can see, we are very casual in our attire here, some of us don’t even bother to keep their clothes on. See you tomorrow, sleep well Mr.Nash.” As he said this, he held Gabrielle closer to the light, making sure I got a clear view of him stroking her gorgeous breasts. Even from this distance, I could see her nipples standing erect and proud and wished it were my fingers rolling them and feeling her arousal. The towel was standing out like a tent as my erection grew by the second and as he hung up, I retired inside, leaving the doors open.

Again, I wondered what this blatant display of sexuality was all about and again, in front of Mario. The poor man looked ready to have a heart attack and he could not take his eyes away from Gabrielle’s naked body. I couldn’t blame him for that; she was a very lovely young lady and I was going to meet her socially at long last.

I tried to get to sleep again, but the thoughts flying around in my brain made sure that wasn’t an option, so I got out the laptop and read over all the notes I had stored, regarding my future dinner companions. Tomorrow evening could fill in a lot of the missing gaps, or create even more intrigue and mystery and I found myself really looking forward to it and hoped that Helena was going to contact me in the morning.

Julian


“What a splendid prick that man has, don't you think Gabby?" She was quiet a moment, still staring at the empty window across the way. She turned slowly and put her arms around my neck, rising slowly on tiptoe, her breasts pressing firmly against my chest.

"Yes" she said, "very impressive." Her lips were teasing mine, her tongue slipping along my teeth, I felt the swell of her mons rubbing against my cock. My girl seemed suddenly quite aroused. I thank you Mister Photographer. And so I returned the kiss, with my hands folding over her ass and drawing her even closer.

Mario coughed... "The ahhh...drawing, is it finished?" I turned to him still clutching Gabby tightly around the waist. Poor man, we really were pushing him beyond the limit.

"Of course not my friend, we only stopped to make that call...to renew an old acquaintance, eh Gabrielle?"
She slipped away from me and walked over to our frustrated voyeur. She embraced him and kissed him. Not just a little kiss either.
Bravo my dear you have a heart of gold or are even more cruel than I thought perhaps...

"Do you think I'm a whore Mario?" She whispered against his warm moist cheek.

"I think..." I interrupted, "That we've played out this particular night.”
I gently pulled Gabby away. It was easy to see the effect that the brief embrace had upon him. "Why look my sexy one, you've made three men hard tonight and haven’t made a sou from it. If your going to be the whore I think you'd better raise your prices." I picked up the unfinished sketches and handed them to Mario.
"No they aren't finished, but things rarely reach a clean finish in art...or in love, eh my friend?"

After he was gone I took her back out on the terrace, spread a soft blanket on the tiles and had her kneel on hands and knees before me. Without preamble or foreplay I drove myself into her body and knew at once that she was still in a high state of arousal. I leaned forward and clutched her swaying breasts, filling my hands with them.
"You are mine. No one else’s...do you understand my love?" She moaned as I ground my cock deep into her belly but she never answered yes or no.

17. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

I loved Jules. Of that there was no doubt. But deep inside of me there was that creature, waiting to be set free, hungry for lust and never ever fulfilled. Now I could feel it stirring, searching out again as if it had been re-awakened somehow. Was it fear of being pursued by the writer? My past, which I was running away from, about to be revealed? He knew things about me. Things I wanted keeping secret, especially from Jules. Each minute that passed now brought those revelations closer.

"You are mine. No one else’s...do you understand my love?" I could hear Jules whispering in my ear as we made love. I was in ecstasy, trying to ignore him as my orgasm intensified and all that I wanted was to be near to him and share that moment with him. “Gabby…I want you to promise that there’s nobody else.” But there was nobody else but him. And yet I was so unsure of my desires and that drive within me that wanted to seek out the ultimate lover. How could I promise?

When Jules and I first met in Paris a few months ago, I was working the streets as a prostitute. I was not cheap and neither was I expensive. I was willing to do anything within my limits and certainly nothing extreme.

He was standing at a bar when I walked in and suddenly I noticed him from out of the crowd as if our eyes were directed upon each other by some spiritual forces of fate. He was so striking and his voice seemed to stand out above the rest as he conversed with friends. And then he glanced over in my direction as if he could feel my stares burning into him.

Jules raised his glass and smiled over at me as Jerome Klass, a local Parisian street artist, whispered into his ear, obviously telling him who and what I was. I returned my smile and within a few moments I was invited into his company.

My first thoughts of him were the same as I would have for any gorgeous man I met at the time. He was a potential customer and I would be so lucky to have someone so delectable, which made my job more easier and worthwhile. And as the evening went on into the early hours he made the move that I was waiting for…

“How much?” he asked. I was not the type that quoted a list of services to anyone who asked. I preferred to wait and see and take it from there as customers varied from simply talking, through to a full passionate time with everything I could handle thrown in.

“Let us see what happens first.” I replied. He seemed sober enough to go my distance if that was what he wanted. “What can you afford?”

“This might sound unusual, but I don’t want you for sex. I want to paint you,” he said. I was very surprised to hear that, as no one had ever asked such a request so far. “I only want to paint you. I mean that.” I thought about it long and hard before giving him my reply. I had men in the past taking photographs of me and then wanting sex afterwards. I wondered if Jules was one of those types, but then his association with Jerome made me realise that he was genuine.

“Are you an artist?” I asked.

“I certainly am, as Jerome here will testify to that. And I think you would make the perfect model that I’m looking for. Besides, you come highly recommended by Jerome.”

“But I’m not a model. Is there nothing else you want besides?”

“Nothing but your presence my dear. Trust me.”

From then on, Jules and I have never been apart. As the days passed by we grew closer and closer to each other until we both fell in love. We became an item and I was no longer a prostitute, but an artist’s model, his model and it became one of the most significant times in my entire life so far. I felt happy, loved and wanted. I began to appreciate what sharing was all about. But most important of all, that lustful creature inside of me seemed to melt away, leaving the loving person that I had become…that was until now.

18. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.

I must have fell asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning whilst going over my notes, because when I woke up, I was still at the desk. The computer was still on and I was feeling a bit chilled by the early morning breeze, wafting in through the open french doors.

My first thought was to see if Helena had dug up any if the information that I had asked her for. Then I realised that it was only six o’clock in the morning, which meant only five o’clock in London. Not much point in looking just yet, I would have to curb my natural impatience, so I took a leisurely shower and put all thoughts of Gabrielle to one side, as I knew what would happen and I did not want a repeat of last night’s self gratification. Who knows what might happen tonight, and I might need all my stamina for later, I thought hopefully.

After an invigorating shower and a shave, and considering my lack of sleep, I felt quite refreshed and decided to go for a run before breakfast. There would be no sign of Philippe for a couple more hours anyway. I dressed in tee shirt, shorts, dug out my trainers and set off down the hill towards the lakeside. I had spotted a few runners there yesterday and thought it would be an idyllic place for an early morning run.

The route took me past the Professor’s villa and at this early time of the morning, I wasn’t surprised to see that there was no sign of life. What did surprise me though, was the Countess’s limousine parked by the side of the road, just a short distance away. I could just make out the shadowy figure of Drago sitting behind the wheel and made sure that as I jogged past, I did not look in his direction, as for some reason or other, I don’t think he would be too pleased to see me.

I had expected the lakeside to be deserted so early in the morning, so I was quite looking forward to renewing my acquaintance with Louise and; there she was. We were out of sight of the limousine and jogging towards a small copse of trees. I quickly caught her up and said, “Bonjour Louise, you are out and about early this morning. Do you mind if I accompany you?” She stopped in her tracks and looked around at me.

“Oh! Bonjour Mark, you startled me, I am usually alone at this time of the morning, but yes, it will make a nice change to have some company and I will try not to tire you out!” Her laugh lit up her whole face and it was as if the sun had just risen. She was quite stunning and her tight jogging top did nothing to hide her pert breasts, with her nipples standing quite proud in the coolness of the morning air. There were a few ways I could imagine having her tire me out and jogging was not one of them. She blushed as she realised my eyes were slowly undressing her.

“Well Monsieur Mark, it appears that you have found something that meets with your approval, or is that a spare pair of socks that you keep down your shorts?”

It was my turn to feel embarrassed now, as I realised that my manhood was hardening and becoming pretty obvious in my tight shorts.

“No Louise, it is not spare socks, it is all me. That should give you the answer to your question. You are a very desirable lady and one with whom I would like to get better acquainted. I believe we are to be dinner guests of the Professor and his mysterious lady friend, the lovely Gabrielle tonight, perhaps, we will get to know each other better then?” I said, giving her my most endearing smile.

“Surely Mark, there is no better time than the present? I do believe I feel a drop of rain in the air, we might be prudent to take shelter for a while, don’t you agree?” She said, taking my hand and leading me towards the trees.

We made our way carefully between the thick pines until we came to a clearing. The ground was thick with needles and springy underfoot; she turned to me and said, “Mark, do not think of me as being forward, but it has been so long since I have felt like this and with Drago in the limousine, I am free to do as I wish! Will you take me, here and now and make my wish come true?”

I could hardly believe my luck, the Countess, throwing herself to my mercy? How could I refuse this beauty? If she wanted it so badly that she had to ask, then it was only the gentlemanly thing to do.

I took her in my arms and we kissed and it was only then, that I realised how short she actually was, because I had to bend over, quite considerably. Her lips felt so soft and tasted, so sweet as her tongue sought mine. I pulled her closer to me and slowly lifted her top, to reveal a perfect pair of breasts, pert enough to be the envy of a girl half her age. Her pelvis was pressed tightly against me and she was grinding her groin against my hard thighs. Our lips broke contact and I kissed and licked my way down to her stiff little buds. Just under her left breast, I noticed a heart shaped birthmark. Why was it so familiar, I wondered?

Before I could ponder on this any more, I felt something whistle past my head and thud into the tree, adjacent to where we were standing. I looked up and saw a bolt from a crossbow embedded in the trunk. Had I not bent forward at just the right time, it would have been buried in my skull! Thank God for short ladies I thought and hurriedly grabbed Louise and ran for cover.

Julian

Morning stretched slowly across the shadowed landscape of the Maritimes. It came today with a southerly wind bearing a tinge of ocean salt and a touch of rain...




I laid my pen down and picked up my coffee. Even now after a decade living in France I preferred my java sans sucre and not au lait. As usual I was up long before Gabrielle. She chides me for it. Says I don't get enough sleep but I find the need for sleep diminishes with age while she on the other hand sleeps like a cat...usually that is.

Last night after making love, it was I not she that was asleep first. She woke me when she came to bed and tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she drifted off.

I was up with the sun, had there been a sun today, made a light breakfast and worked for awhile in my journal, which had become a ritual of late. After writing a bit I walked out onto the terrace and felt a fine mist of rain falling. It would probably clear in the afternoon, though it was cool and windy. Not a good day to paint by the lakeside. I saw the Countess’ limousine parked where it usually was and could picture her short lush form jogging on the beach while Drago chain-smoked and snoozed in the car. Maybe the girls had dropped the bait. Maybe I'd hear from her today. A portrait commission would be handy right now.

My cash flow was way down. The securities I had invested in were falling at an appalling rate, like tissue from a tenth floor window. The New York Gallery sales had been slow this season and I had yet to find a replacement for Richaud's Paris gallery...(the bastard!), and if I depended on sales from Mario I'd starve. Things were looking pretty thin right now.

So I was musing as yet another car drove slowly by. Theres not much traffic on the streets at such early hours of the morning and this was a rather disreputable vehicle, something one rarely sees in Lake Clair. A VW Van at least 20 years old, it's faded turquoise paint accented by sienna spots of rust. It slowed and stopped almost beneath me. Curious I leaned over the rail and saw two people emerge, a man and a woman it seemed. I couldn't see their faces, as they were dressed in bulky dark clothes, more than enough that the mildly cool air would demand...interesting.

They made their way quickly across the road and disappeared into the tree line that hid the lake from my view. That's odd, I thought finishing my coffee in a few gulps. It was not yet eight o'clock…maybe they were joggers too. As for me, I don't jog. I walk.

I looked in on Gabby who was now sleeping like a child. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and left the house being careful to lock up. Something I don’t usually do. But the presence of the old battered bus in front of my place gave me an uneasy feeling...

The VW van was even worse up close. Several windows were cracked, the interior a jumble of strewn paper, aluminium cans and varieties of other castaway rubbish of all sorts. Curious I walked around the back to look at the license plate. It was Italian but that wasn't unusual around here. It was not really my concern, but I decided that I would call the police just in case, as soon as I got back. I took a pencil from my pocket and jotted down the number in the sketchbook I always carried, my so-called “black bible.”

I continued my walk west away from town, passing the Countess’ car on the way. It was empty and Drago was not passed out or smoking at the wheel strangely enough. Perhaps he was running with her? Unlikely but possible...

I'd gone about 100 meters further when suddenly two figures hurtled from the trees that lined the lakeside and crashed into me. I stepped away to avoid being run over. It was the Countess and if memory served me, the photographer, Nash. Their faces were flushed and they both looked…extremely terrified!

"Countess, what’s wrong?" I asked.

It was Nash that answered.
"We've been attacked...Shot at with arrows for chrissake!"

"Arrows!?"

Louise was on the verge of collapsing from shock. I reached out to hold her up but suddenly Drago appeared from out of nowhere. "Leave her alone."
His voice was like thunder in a wind tunnel. He scooped her up as easily as I would lift a paintbrush.
"I'll take her home."

In spite of my predictions the rain was falling harder.

20. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

I woke up and felt beside me for Jules, but he was not there. The old clock on the wall with its pendulum swinging to and fro told me that it was past eight and I realised that he was up and ready to start a new day. Always the early riser and a creature of many habits, which I became accustomed to.

I sat up with the blanket around me as I felt a chill in the air and saw the drops of rain trickle down the window, lifting my knees up to my chin so that I could feel warm and secure in his absence.

“Jules!” I called, but there was no reply. No matter if it was sunny or raining, he would always take an early morning walk to wherever it was he went. But as usual I felt hungry for him and those early morning sessions of lovemaking were becoming a thing of the past. But, I was happy with what we had established over the months.

My hair was dank and the remnants of our sex hung around me tantalizingly, giving me a sure indication that I needed to shower. Suddenly I could hear the screeching of tires in the street below and I dashed to the window to see what it was that caused it. All that I could see was the rear of a van moving away at speed and I wondered who it was that had to rush so quickly so early in the morning. Nobody rushed around in such a way in our neighborhood unless there was a real emergency.

After I showered I poured some of the coffee that Jules had made earlier. Draped in just a bathrobe I watched the rain pouring down heavy outside, looked at the clock and wondered what was taking Jules so long on his morning strole in such bad weather. That and the van speeding away began to make me feel as if both were connected somehow.

21. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.


We ran as fast as our legs would take us and made it to the trees by the lakeside, without any further incident, I am glad to say. Even in my frightened state of mind, I could not help but admire Louise’s lithe body, easily keeping pace with my much longer strides. The rain was really quite heavy and by the time we burst out of the trees, we were saturated. I turned to check if Louise was all right and as she was wiping the rain from her eyes at the time, we ran slap bang into Julian, nearly knocking him over.

"Countess, what’s wrong?" he asked. Breathlessly I replied,

"We've been attacked...Shot at with arrows for chrissake!" Well, one crossbow bolt to be honest, but I have never been known for my understatements.

Julian reached out to support Louise, who was on the verge of collapse and like a spectre from some second-class horror movie, Drago appeared; "Leave her alone, I'll take her home," he said in his inimitable voice, which sent shivers of dread through us all. Despite his thin build, he lifted Louise into his arms and strode off to the limousine. I started as if to follow them, but Julian put out an arm, to prevent me following.

“Best not, monsieur Nash. Drago will see that no harm becomes her and you would not be welcome, as I think you are beginning to realise? Now tell me, what happened back there in the woods?” I told him that as we were taking shelter, missing out the bit about us kissing, that someone fired a crossbow at us, narrowly missing my head by inches and that we just ran for our lives until we bumped into him. Before he could reply, we heard a battered old VW van start up and screech off into the gloom, leaving behind a trail of exhaust fumes and spray, from the steadily increasing rainfall.

Now I began to wonder why Julian had said. ‘I was beginning to realise that I was not welcome’. He did not know of my run in with Drago from yesterday, or, did he? Or, was it just a comment about my nearly being killed by the crossbow? Or, was I just getting paranoid? I did not know. He surprised me then, by saying,

“You are still a bit shaky, so why don’t you come back to my villa and we can dry off and have a bit of breakfast? Who knows maybe Gabrielle might even be out of bed by then? I know you are dying to meet her, again!” The way he said, ‘again!’ did nothing to allay my fears. I think he thought, that there had been something between us in the past and was trying to hide his jealousy by being more than civil to me. Ok, I would play his game, because, I did want to meet her again. Although our first real meeting was only yesterday, he was not to know that; and I was not about to tell him either.

We hurried along the rain swept front and as we approached the villa, I felt my heart beating faster and my mouth getting drier. Forgotten was the attempt on my life, forgotten was my desire for Louise, I was about to come face to face with Gabrielle, who, if I were being honest, had occupied my thoughts and dreams, ever since I saw her pictures, the ones in which I used to illustrate my short story, so long ago.

When we entered the villa, Julian called out; “Gabby! We have a visitor. He is a little early for dinner, but it is Monsieur Nash, you know, the chap from Exposé magazine? So get your pretty little ass down here and renew your old acquaintance.” Again, I detected a hint of unease about Julian. He was convincing himself that Gabrielle and I had been an item.

Her appearance, when she finally made it from the balcony, clutching a lukewarm cup of coffee and dressed in a simple bathrobe, was stunning. She had not expected me to be there of course; and subsequently, had only loosely tied her robe. I could plainly see her pert breasts, almost hidden, but not quite and suddenly it dawned on me!

Jules



If anyone could be devoured with a gaze, then my Gabby was being eaten alive by the hunger in Nash's eyes. To be sure, my lady that morning looked good enough to eat and in fact there had been a number of mornings when I'd started off my day doing exactly that...but it had been a while.

"Gabrielle, Mister Nash has been through quite an ordeal this morning, can you pour him a coffee?" I turned to the dripping photographer.
"Your coat? Here let me take it and hang it by the radiator, should be dry in no time."

Gabby had pulled her robe together when she returned with the coffee and I also noticed she'd tucked away some wayward locks, rinsed the sticky spend from her hair and tightened the belt of her robe to accentuate her curves. Even then, barely out of bed she was a flirt.

"What happened?" Gabby asked. She set the steaming cup on the table and sat down across from Nash, his eyes kept straying to the lush swells of her breasts even though they were now covered in thick blue terrycloth.

"Mister Nash and the Countess were attacked by wild indians it seems darling. Can you imagine? I haven’t seen any Apaches around here in quite a while." I replied, making light of the situation .

She frowned and looked confused.
"Indians...Apaches? What are you talking about?"

"Arrows…one arrow actually and it wasn't from an indians bow at all, Professor Steele." Nash explained further. He shot a look at me rather like an arrow itself.
"It was a crossbow bolt."

"Oh, I see... that is sort of medieval isn't it? I'd think a rifle and a silencer would have been more effective. Were they trying to kill you? The Countess? Maybe it was an accident."

Gabby's hand was shaking as she raised the cup to her lips. "They don't allow hunting by the Lake, and a foggy, rainy morning would be a bad time for target practice," she said.

I turned to the photographer. "Do you know anyone who drives a ragged out old Volkswagen bus...blue with Italian license plates?"
He shook his head in reply.

"Your cold Mister Nash, and your shaking." Gabby said laying her hand on his arm . I watched them closely wondering when they would ever stop this fucking charade. They knew each other very well. I could feel the tension between them in the air. Nash was obviously something special to her, if not now thenin their past.
Of that I had no doubt at all.

23. Gabrielle Delvigne – Sienna.

“Good point you made about the hunting my dear.” Jules said. “Still, this whole thing sounds a bit of a strange activity if you ask me. I would consider informing the police if I was you Mister Nash, before things get out of hand.”

“Of course, Professor Steele, you’re quite right.”

“I will leave you in the capable hands of Gabrielle.” Jules turned to me with a smirk on his face as I looked back at him. “I have a few things I need to tend to in the studio.”

We watched him leave and then I turned to Mark Nash quickly and asked in almost a whisper; “What do you want? Why are you really here searching me out?” He looked surprised and began to laugh at me, sitting back into the chair.

“I don’t believe you Gabrielle. You are telling me that you don’t honestly know why I’m here?”

“No I don’t. I think this whole thing is just an intrusion into my private life. No, our private lives, mine and Jules, and I just wished you had never come here looking for us. I don’t even know you Mister Nash, but I do know that you have something about me and my past that you wish to persue.”

Those blue eyes of his seemed so intimidating as well as…so…gorgeous and…he was certainly a handsome man and I felt attracted to him in some way, as I had realised that first time we had met. But that was beside the point. I needed to know why he was here exactly.

“Gabby, if I may call you by that name, you must remember the photographer who took those first shots of you? A man named Douglas Spears? Remember?” He sat up, leaned forward and took my hand in his. I did not stop him, as my mind was now thinking back to Douglas, who I could never ever forget.

“Of course, your name back then was not Gabrielle, was it?” He grinned as if he was playing mind games with me. “It was Dolores, wasn’t it? And you were quite a popular young model too. Everyone wanted you in the business and then you did what you did, and ran away.”

“What are you trying to tell me Mister Nash?”

“I’m not here to rake up your past private life with Douglas,” he began to explain. “I’m here on a genuine mission to follow up that story you illustrated with your very provocative shots. A continuation if you like, with the Professor suitably placed in the exact role of the character in the story. So uncanny isn’t it…or is it?” He smiled and run his finger over my face, moving a strand of my damp hair behind my ear to stop it falling over my face.

24. Mark Nash – Dreamweaver32.

Gabrielle had the exact same birthmark as Louise and; if I was not mistaken, in the exact same place too. Before I could study it any further, Julian suggested that she get me a cup of coffee and she left, with both our eyes following her intently.

When she returned, I noticed that she had pulled her robe more tightly around her and my eyes kept straying to her breasts. My mind was trying to come to terms with the quick glimpse of her birthmark and how it could possibly tie in with the one Louise had under her breast. Julian, I think, interpreted this as my lustful longing for his Gabrielle.

When Gabrielle asked me what had happened, Julian tried to make light of the situation by joking about us being attacked by red Indians, which only led to Gabrielle getting confused. I told her about the crossbow and glared at the professor. Crossbows might very well be medieval, but none the less effective, entirely silent and: in the right hands, very deadly. They were used for hunting, quite extensively and still are to this day.

His next question surprised me, to say the least.

"Do you know anyone who drives a ragged out, old Volkswagen bus...blue with Italian license plates?" I shook my head in denial and wondered, how would he think that I would know of any such strangers in Clermont sur Lac. There were more Italian connections amongst his circle of friends than any I might have and that got me to thinking again about the Professor’s intentions towards me. It was then that he chose to take his leave of us, sarcastically telling me that he would leave me in Gabrielle’s capable hands.

As soon as he left, she asked me why I was there, why I was intruding on her new life and trying to spoil it for her. I couldn’t help but laugh at her self-opinionated naivety. I tucked a wayward strand of damp hair behind her ear and began explaining.

“You remember Douglas Spears, the photographer? Well, he was a very good friend of mine and it was he, who suggested that you be the model to illustrate my short story. I am not here to drag up your murky past with him. I am here, purely to do a follow up, to my extended version of that first story. The fact that your life with Julian and Douglas, are following very much the same course, is purely a coincidence, I am sure…Dolores!”

When I mentioned her previous name, she leapt to her feet and told me never to use that name again, she was now known as Gabrielle and; that was her real name. I gave her an evil grin and told her that I was cool with that.

God, she was gorgeous and I think her worst fears may soon be realised A lot depended on what real evidence of her past indiscretions Helena could come up with, in her expected email and that would determine my next course of action. I Stood up pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard and fast, nothing tender about it, just to let her know for sure that I wanted her. I didn’t give her time to respond or reject my advances and told her that I would see her later and took my leave.

As soon as I got back to my room, I flashed up the laptop and logged on. Sure enough, there was a reply from Helena and I started to download it. It was very long and I could see it would take a while to download, so I got out my notes and pored over the pictures I had of Gabrielle. I hadn’t really noticed it before, but on closer inspection, her birthmark was clearly visible, it was, heart shaped and it was, just below her left breast. Interesting and something I had hoped I would get the chance to check out with Louise, at the barbecue later that night.

I went back to the laptop and it was there, everything Helena had managed to dig up on Gabrielle and the Professor. There were also a couple of mpegs, simply entitled ‘Dolores 1 and 2’ I played the first and couldn’t believe my eyes, it was Gabby with two guys, going at it like rabbits, the next thirty second clip showed her reveling in, what is commonly known as, a ‘facial’ and looking as if she was enjoying each and every discharge. Wow! This was dynamite and I replayed them again and again. There was no doubt about it, it was Gabrielle!

As I was looking at these clips, I got a warning of incoming mail. I clicked on and saw I was receiving an email with an attachment. I didn’t recognize the address, but the heading of the attachment intrigued me. It was entitled, ‘Sequel, the true story’

Jules


I watched from the studio window as the photographer walked away into the rain, wondering what had passed between them. The fact that they'd spoken so quietly, little above a whisper was telling in itself. Her life before I'd met her was a void, a lacuna of unanswered questions.
I thought at the time we'd first met that she was too choice, too smart, too savvy to be a common street walker and her life with me afterwards had proved that out. It was an unspoken agreement between us that we'd not delve to deeply into each other’s past. I had respected that...up till now anyway.
Lord knows I had enough to hide...memories of Melissa and the child drifted into my mind again reminding me that no matter how far the distance in time or place they would always be there. Ghosts that travelled with me always.

I put down the brush I'd been holding and stared at the empty canvas. A small one. I only did small ones at this time of year. Once the students had left I leased out the big studio to Brian Scoggins an obnoxious, but well heeled painter of insipid landscapes who journeyed south from London every year in hopes of finding a molecule of talent on the shores of our crystal blue lake...the Virgin Mary should rise butt naked from the waters first.
Ah well...it was money afterall.

Speaking of which, the Countess was probably too distracted by this mornings adventure to consider commissioning a painting of her precious nymphettes. And what was her link to Nash?…

"Is our friend still coming to dinner, or has the attempted assassination put him off?" I asked. No answer..."Gabby?"
Still no answer.
"…Gabrielle my sweet, come in here and lets fuck shall we. It's raining again and I can't think of anything else better to do…"
I heard the front door close softly and walked again to the window now being pelted by a very hard rain. A day the poor tourists in town would be bemoaning. I looked down in time to see her yellow umbrella pop open and watch as she walked towards town, bumbershoot canted to the wind. Damn foul weather to be going out for a stroll, I thought.

There was a note on the kitchen table in her delightfully childlike scrawl...

…Jules darling, gone out to the grocer. Will try and find some calamari for dinner before it's all gone...back soon, G…

Ugh, I hated the stuff, even the way she cooked it, it still tasted like modelling clay to me. Maybe it was a rememebered favourite of the Mysterious Mister Nash?

That's it! That's what they were whispering about. They were comparing recipes for cooking things with tentacles.
Of course...not!

I picked up the phone and rang the antique shop. My friend, the frustrated proprietor answered sounding out of breath as he always did...
"Lac Clare Antiques, Art and Curios. May I help you?"

I laughed, "Tell me Mario, do you still have that Venetian crossbow hanging by the stuffed owl?"