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My Muse

By: Metronome37



Here is my latest attempt, it was fun to write, but more exciting to share with My Muse, you know who you are :). Your votes and comments are more than welcome

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Entering the house, I immediately noticed the silence. Setting my briefcase next to the counter, I started moving through the house, looking for Angie. Her car was in the garage, so she has to be nearby, I thought to myself as I looked out the kitchen window into the backyard to see if she was in the garden.

It was her normal routine to greet me, to press her body to mine and kiss me softly on the lips and tell me she loved me. You would think that after the years we had together that it would become mundane, but the truth of it was, I cherished her greeting, I looked forward to feeling her sexy body pressing to mine, the softness of her lips caressing my mouth, the scent of her perfume gently filling my nostrils with her scent.

As I turned from the window, I moved through the living room toward our bedroom, at least I can get comfortable and then get a glass of wine ready when she returns.

Opening the bedroom door was like sensory overload, music was playing so softly that it wouldn't be noticed just outside the door, and there, with her foot raised over the arm of a chair, her foot encased in beige pumps and her body molded into a dark floral dress stood the light of my day, a small teasing smile playing innocently across her lips.

"Hi," she whispered shyly, which still amazed me after all the time we'd been together, just the soft cadence of her voice could make my body react violently.

"Oh.My.God." 

It was all I could say, she was a vision, I felt my mouth go dry at the sight of her standing there.

"Baby?" she asked, the look in her eyes telling me that she knew exactly the affect she was having. 

"I was taking pictures for you and thought maybe you would like the 'live show'."

I don't know how I got there, I don't remember moving at all, but the next thing I knew I was standing behind her, my arms circling her waist and my face was moving to the side of her neck, kissing it gently, my nose moving her hair to the side, exposing her beautiful soft skin to my mouth.

Her flesh was so warm as I tasted it for the first time, my right hand moving out to caress the knee that was still positioned over the arm of the chair, my fingers moving in light little circles along the inside of her thigh, barely touching her skin, moving up to the hem of her dress before gliding over the top of her leg and sliding back down to her knee on the other side.

"Don't move," I husked into her ear, the desire evident in my voice as I traced the tip of my tongue along her hairline, kissing her warm flesh, tasting her, inhaling her essence.

A soft moan escaped her lips as my fingers started their journey back up the inside of her leg, teasing, touching, sliding ever so slowly under her dress.

"Go higher baby," she whispered as my teeth grazed the side of her neck, nipping at her perfect flesh gently.

My other hand moved up her torso, sliding along the underside of her perfect breast, "I'm going to taste every square inch of your body before I leave this room," I whispered in her ear.

Her breath seemed to catch in her throat at my statement before a soft moan escaped her lips.

I circled my fingers around the slope of her breast, smiling to myself when I realized she had done this without a bra. 

Flattening out my hand, I grazed it over her breast, the palm of my hand just barely touching the material covering her skin, her nipple reached out to touch my hand in desperation, stretching to meet me, I could feel it's heat, it's vibrancy through her dress, as I slowly cupped her flesh.

I allowed my hand to slide lower, putting her distended nipple between my thumb and forefinger, pinching it gently, pulling on it, turning it as my other hand moved up the inside of her thigh those last few inches to where it would meet her core.

Her breathing was heavier now as my fingers met the band of her panties, a soft silk pulled taunt by her upraised leg. I slid my fingers along the leg band as my other hand continued it's manipulation of her nipple and my lips began to suck gently on her earlobe.

"Baby, can I take my dress of now?" She whispered, "You could undo the zipper and I could just let it slide off my body, your body, the body that belongs completely to you."

The thought of her naked skin exposed to me was all I needed to release her enough to allow me access to her zipper. I slid it down her back, taking my time so that I could enjoy the view of every inch of her skin being exposed. It was like it was the first time that I had seen her; I would never grow tired of undressing my lover.

In keeping with the mood, she slowly lowered her leg from the chair and allowed the dress to slide off her body to pool on the floor, her black silk bikini panties now the only thing left on her elegant frame.

She turned to me, looking me in the eye, made possible only by the fact that she was in heels, her arms sliding up the outside of my arms over the material of my dress shirt. Continuing her journey, she traced the tip of her fingers across the top of my shoulders, following my neck up to my jaw line and down to the center of my chin, before once again sliding down over my throat to the top of my shirt, her fingers working to release the buttons.

As she finished, she moved to slide it off my body before I stopped her by pulling her to me, pressing my lips to her mouth, my tongue teasing between her lips, "My Angie" I whispered into her mouth as my fingers teased in little circles, along her lower back teasing, tracing along the band of her panties as I moved her to the bed, laying her back slowly onto the mattress.

Bending, I kissed the inside of one knee, my hands moving slowly up her side, her body wiggling in reaction to my light touch, "It tickles," she whispered, before moaning at the touch of my lips to her flesh.

I kissed my way lovingly up the inside of her thigh, her legs parting to give me more access, the dark spot in the middle of the satin of her panties telling me all I needed to know about her desire.

As I reached the top of her thigh, I allowed the tip of my tongue to follow the same path that my fingers had taken earlier along the leg band of her covering.

"Baby, pleaseeeeeeeee," she moaned, her pelvis arching slightly off the bed, pushing toward my lips.

"Move it aside princess," I whispered in return and watched as her perfectly manicured finger reached down to pull the material to the side, exposing her glistening hairless pussy to my eyes. Her lips swollen in need, it was almost like I could see her clit pulsing with desire as I moved back in slowly, the tip of my tongue once again setting the pace, by teasing along her swollen vulva, tasting her nectar, the ultimate aphrodisiac for me.

Moving higher, I circled her clit with my tongue and allowed my hands to move back to her breasts, my fingers mimicking my tongue in a light dance around her swollen nipples, her body starting to twitch in response to my teasing, "Please baby, oh god, please.."

I could feel her body starting to tense in the beginning spasms of an orgasm and I reacted, closing my lips over her clit, I began to feverishly massage it with my tongue. At the same time my fingers clamped over her swollen nipples and twisted them not too gently in opposite directions, causing her whole body to lock up, her pelvis thrust into my face, her legs locking over my ears as a tiny scream escaped her lips, her body obeying that primal urge for release. 

Her body slowly relaxed and I lovingly kissed my way up over her stomach, teasing her navel with my tongue before sliding it up the valley between her breasts and over her throat, nipping gently at her chin.

"Are you ready for more princess?" I asked, smiling down at her.

I looked down into her smokie eyes, the lust and love intermingling in her gaze as I bent to kiss her lips for the first time. Her hand opened up my shirt to bring my naked chest in contact with her svelte skin.

Her soft moan told me that she loved the mixture of her essence on my lips as our tongues dueled playfully.

My hand again trailed softly up the inside of her thigh teasing toward her wet pussy, teasing along her swollen lips, her hand reaching down to undo my belt and release the catch on my pants.

I backed off to look down at her, the smile on her lips bringing a light to her eyes, the sparkle telling me that she was very much in favor of what we were doing.

"You're overdressed baby," she teased, her nails trailing down the middle of my chest and circling my nipple, before sliding her hand up behind my neck and pulling me in for another soft kiss. 

I pulled away again, "Let me get comfortable princess," I whispered as I pushed off the bed and removed my clothes slowly; Angie's eyes never leaving mine as she trailed her fingers over her chest and down to her breasts, circling her nipples.

I smiled at her as I went to my dresser, "Close your eyes princess."

Grinning, she closed her eyes, her hands continuing to move over her flesh, "Baby, I want you back," she sang softly.

I removed the items from my dresser that I had gone for and moved back to the bed, "Turn over Angie," I instructed, guiding her gently with my hand.

When she was on her stomach, I moved up on the bed and placed the black silk scarf over her eyes, "I want you to 'see' what I'm doing to you differently baby. You will have to trust your other senses to tell you what is happening."

A shiver ran down her body and I could see little bumps arise on her flesh, whether from excitement or trepidation, I couldn't tell. 

I gently guided her up the bed and placed her head on her pillow and placed her hands over her head, crossed at the wrist, "You are not allowed to move your hands pet," I instructed her.

I moved off the bed again and just looked down at my beautiful lady love laid out before me, her panties still in place, although showing the signs of her arousal, and her cream colored pumps still on her delicate feet.

I bent forward and kissed her soft pouty lips again, marveling at the taste of her nether lips mingling with her natural scent, it was intoxicating. 

My fingers once again slid slowly over her abdomen and around her breasts, "If you're a really good girl, I have a present for you later," I told her as I bit her earlobe gently, the moan from her mouth telling me that she liked the attention.

"Are you ready pet? Ready to let your body be completely explored?" I asked as I placed baby kisses all along her neck.

Again her moan was all I got in response to my question.

I stood back to gaze upon your lovely frame again, drinking it in, amazed at her beauty, entranced by her loveliness.

Her arms still crossed at the wrist over her head, her beautiful hair fanned out across the pillow, lips slightly parted as if expecting me to kiss her at any moment, maybe even hoping that is about to happen. Her elegant throat, the lines perfect and unmarred leading down to her chest, a complete work of art that any Master would long to paint.

The slope of her breasts called to me, stirring a hunger in me to touch them, to taste them but I steeled myself and continued my visual journey of perfection as I gazed at the swollen nipples straining toward the ceiling, rising and falling with each breath.

I wanted so desperately to run my fingers over her flat tummy and across the waist band of her panties, to feel the warm flesh with their tips, but this was not for me, this was all about my princess. 

Her legs are slightly parted, smooth and flawless right down to her sexy heels that still remained on her perfect little feet.

I watched as she strained to hear, wondering where I am, what I'm doing, her body starting to move slightly in nervous anticipation of what is to come.

"Baby?" she whisper, even now unwilling to break the spell with her voice.

Leaning over the pillow, I saw her relax as she felt my presence, "It's ok princess, I'm right here. I'm going to uncover your beautiful feet baby, I don't want you to move an inch, do you understand?"

"Mmph" Angie moaned as she heard the heat and longing in my voice, "Yes sir."

I reached over her head and traced my fingertips lightly down across the soft skin on the underside of her arm, teasing along the forearm and around her elbow before sliding gently over her upper arm to the armpit, teasing it with tiny circles, my eyes locked on her, looking for any reaction, seeing the strain to obey the command not to move.

Bending over again, I teased her pit with the tip of my tongue, unable to resist the temptation to taste her just a little. 

Righting myself, I continued my digital exploration of her hot flesh, sliding down over her side, across the slope of her breast, my fingers spread to glide past the distended nipple without touching it, before gliding over the torso and past the wet panties along the inside of your thigh.

"Your body is so hot princess," I whispered, "I want to take the time to explore every inch of you, to feel you surrender completely to me, are you willing to do that pet? Are you willing to give yourself completely over to me?"

I didn't wait for an answer as I reached for her ankle and slowly undid the buckle on her shoe, slowly sliding it off one of her sexy feet, my hand gently cupping her heel and lifting the leg from the bed as I bent and kissed the tip of each toe, "I love everything about your body lover."

I moved over and repeated the motion on the other foot, freeing it so that all that stood between me and her body was a moist pair of black silk bikini panties.

I stepped over to the dresser and picked up my digital camera and slowly start to capture the image of perfection that was before me.

Blinded by the scarf covering her eyes, all she could do was hear the click of the button as I immortalized this moment, her body reacting as it recognized the familiar sound of the camera.

"No one will ever see these photos princess, they belong to my private collection," I told her as I moved around the room continuing to log the evidence of sexiness, reaching in to slide the band of her panties aside to expose her wet swollen pussy lips, but being careful to not allow my fingers to touch the exposed skin. 

"Maybe I'll set this to record baby and slide your soft, delicate lips over my hard cock, would you like to watch that? Would you like to see a video of your hot little mouth swallowing my dick?"

There comes a time when teasing must come to an end and action is required. Looking through the lens of my camera and seeing that hot body laying there like a sacrifice to the gods, brought me to the point where I was tired of playing, I wanted to feel her, to use her body.

Setting the camera aside, I moved to the bottom of the bed and placed my hands under her knees and pulled her lower, "Leave your hands above your head Angie, don't fucking move," I directed as I reached up to grip her panties, the scent of her wet snatch filling the room, causing my nostrils to flare with desire. I felt like an animal, a beast!

Tightening my grip on the fragile band on her hips I ripped the panties from her sexy frame, fully exposing her swollen slit to my view. Taking a deep breath I took a step back long enough to shed my clothes, my eyes never leaving her body.

Pushing her legs up so that her heels were resting on the end of the bed, I begin to kiss and nip my way down the inside of her thigh, tasting the skin, inhaling the scent, everything else around me was out of focus, all I wanted was to taste her, to have her.

I felt her ass lifting off the mattress as I got closer to her center, her pussy lips so wet that they were making little noises as they pulled apart, I could hear her juices, I could smell them, it made my mouth water, the thought of running my tongue through that gash and gathering her cum into my mouth.

As my lips reached her apex, I forced myself to back off and do the same thing to the other leg, my free hand sliding up and down the inside of the thigh I'd just fed upon, teasing it lightly with my fingertips. I must concentrate, I wanted this to be soft, I wanted this to be gentle, but my baser nature wanted to take, to grip, to mark her flesh, it was so fucking hot, her laying before me like a sacrificial virgin, her hands immobile over her head and her breasts heaving as her breathing quickens.

Moving closer and closer to her wet pussy, I could feel the heat of her core, she was so wet, so fucking wet for me, her lips so swollen with desire. As I got closer, I knew that this time I wouldn't hold back, the time of preparation was past and I must have her pussy in my mouth again.

I ran the tip of my tongue between her pussy lip and thigh, loving the heat that she was generating, my thumb sliding along the ridge of her other lip ever so lightly, it's like I have no idea what would please her right now, but I'm beyond asking, this is a time for action, a time to make her squirm, to beg, to cum.

I closed my lips over one of her cunt lips, sucking on it, nipping it gently between my teeth as my thumb moved into the valley between her legs and gathered her nectar, before moving up to rub it across her mouth, her soft lips parting to suck it clean, a low sexy moan escaping, as I move my mouth off of your pussy and ran my tongue from the bottom of her gash to the top, taking a moment to circle and suck on her hard little button before moving back down through her pussy, all the way to that tight little asshole, my tongue circling it, "Wouldn't you love for our viewers to see you now Ange? To see your ass lifting off the bed and pressing into my face while I take ownership of every part of your sexy frame with my mouth?"

"I want you to cum for me pet, I want to feel your juices as they flood my mouth, I want to drink deeply of your pussy Angie, give me all you've got lover."

I felt possessed, hungry beyond being sated. All I could think of was to bring her pleasure, to feel her body responding to my every touch. To hear her as she came over and over for me. 

Standing I pressed my hard cock between our bodies as I bent forward to kiss her beautiful mouth, feeling her lips surrender to me, our tongues dueling as her pelvis ground against my hard cock.

I growled softly into her mouth and heard her whimper in return as she strained to keep her hands in place. I could feel the tension in her body as she struggled with what would be a natural reaction for her.

I reached forward to slide the blindfold back from her eyes, locking gazes with her, seeing my hunger mirrored in her look as I moved my lower body back and pressed the velvet head of my cock against her opening, pressing it forward gently, "Is this what you want Angie?" I smiled down at her before kissing her mouth softly one more time.

Not getting a response, I pulled the blindfold back down over her eyes, seeing a moment of questioning before those beautiful orbs were covered. "You won't answer me, you get what you get love."

Removing the head of my cock from her opening I felt her move her body down as her legs tried to trap me against her, "Oh no you don't, you asked for this little girl."

Dropping slowly to my knees I began nibbling on the inside of her thigh, beginning to tease her body all over again, "Somebody either likes to be teased or needs to learn to answer a question when she's asked, don't you think?"

I hear her breathing change as I get closer to her wetness.

"I don't know what you mean," she teased, a slight giggle in her voice as she tried to move closer to my mouth.

Leaning back, I swatted the inside of her thigh, "Stay still!"

"Make me," I heard from the bed, her voice challenging me, the laughter still in her words.


My Muse



Parts of this story are drawn from my life, such as my childhood, and my father's life. It had a lasting effect on me and my ability to interact with people. The rest is my (vivid) imagination, for I have not yet found my Muse.

A note to those who take great delight in telling me that my sentence structure is wrong: There is a difference between English and French sentence structures. For this reason, and because she is French, Monique's dialogue follows French, not English sentence structures. 

*

I, Ben Symonds, grew up in a semi-dysfunctional family. I was the youngest of three sons of a part-time father and a strong willed but very private mother. Demonstrations of affection were few and far between, and this resulted in me becoming socially awkward, especially around the opposite sex. 

My father, while not an alcoholic, was a binge drinker who would come home from work on occasions very drunk. My mother's reaction to these events was to warn my brothers and me to 'keep away from your father for a while'. We were to later find out that these events were his efforts to blank out the seemingly regular traumas that resulted in his being continually suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, long before it was given that name. He would eventually suffer a nervous breakdown that he never fully recovered from.

I have to admit here that English was, along with Maths and French, my least favourite subject at High School, but I was an avid reader and was to become a prolific but mediocre author. That was until she came into my life.

Her name was Monique and she was, as I was to soon find out, French. I had watched her and already decided that, if we had lived in another era, she would have been a jazz singer, eking out a steady income in smoke filled bars and night clubs, where her rich throaty voice would hold her audience spellbound.

I noticed her at a party that I had been encouraged to attend. She was dressed in black except for a bright pink scarf knotted loosely around her throat. She was tall and slim, her olive complexion went with her black hair and brown eyes that roamed ceaselessly around the room, even while she talked to someone. Her eyes settled on me for several seconds and she extracted herself from the man who was trying desperately to hold her attention. He stared after her as she weaved her way through the other guests and headed for me.

"You interest me." She said as she arrived in front of me, her eyes looking through mine into my soul.

"Oh." I could think of nothing more to say to her.

"You stand here on your own, not making conversation with anyone, but you know everyone."

"What do you mean, I hardly know anyone here."

"But you do know them. I see you looking at them, you observe them and you make up stories about what you see in them. You are a writer, no?"

"I try to be, but I'm not much good at it."

"But no, you are good, you know people, you see them, you listen to them speak, not so much for what they say but how they say it. You may not yet have the ability to construct stories around what you see, but it will come, and when it does you will be a great author."

"I wish that I had your confidence in my abilities."

"What story have you made for me?"

"Now you are trying to embarrass me."

"No. I watch you watching me and I feel it in me that you have already created a story about me."

"Well," I began, not knowing whether to tell her the story that I had in my mind, or just make something up. "I had thought you to be Italian or Spanish, but now that I have spoken to you, I would say that you are French, from the south of France. You are, I think, a singer. If not you are an artist or something like that. You are very self-confident, and I don't need to tell you that men find you attractive. I think that you have come to Australia in a professional context, probably for a short time, but have decided to stay. That decision might not be because you love this country, but most likely it was to be with someone, a lover. But you are no longer with that man."

"How do you know it was a man?"

"I have seen how you interact with both men and women, and I am sure that women, you do not find them sexually attractive."

"You are right of course. I came to be with a man, a musician, but it was not to be. I found professional work while he did not, and this was something that his ego would not permit, so he went back to Paris."

"I would like to hear you sing."

"You shall. I leave here soon to sing at a club, you must come with me."

"I would like that." I was rapidly running out of things to say to her, but then I remembered the bottle of wine on the floor beside my feet. I stooped and picked it up. "Would you care for some wine?"

She held her glass for me to fill and sipped it. "This is good wine, but it is not French."

"No." I decided to bung on an Aussie accent for her. "It's good Aussie piss. We Australians are getting pretty good at making the stuff. We don't all drink beer you know."

She had a great laugh and it wasn't just the throatiness of it that I found great, she laughed with her whole being, her eyes, and her body. "I think that you are lucky in this country, your good wine is so cheap." She took hold of my hand and moved close to me, so close that I could feel the warmth of her body and smell her perfume. I knew that this was not going to last, once she got to know me, really know me, the excuses would start, she would no longer want to see me or be with me.

At around 10 o'clock she touched my arm. "Wait here for me." She left and I thought that this was it, I wouldn't see her again, but then she was back. "Come, you will hear me sing." She had gone to fetch her bag and coat and returned to me. The man that she had been with glared at me and made to come over to us, but she tucked her hand under my arm and turned her back on him in such a way that he knew that it was hopeless to pursue her.

The club was one of those intimate venues that held no more than a hundred patrons, all seated at tables sipping wine and chatting quietly with each other in voices so low that those on neighbouring tables could not hear the conversation. Monique kissed me on the lips and went to prepare for her set.

The band consisting of a guitarist, pianist, drummer and saxophonist moved onto the small stage. The pianist moved the mike closer and said in hushed tones. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to welcome onto the stage, Monique." There was polite applause from the patrons and she came onto the stage, walking to the mike she adjusted it to her height and waited for the band to begin. The pianist clicked his fingers four times to count them in and the song began, it was a jazz rendering of 'la Vie en Rose' made famous by Edith Piaf but sounding nothing like Piaf. To my ears, that are admittedly tone deaf, she sounded better. The applause at the end of the song was a little more enthusiastic. By the time that she had completed her set the audience were clapping loudly.

At the end of her set she stepped off the stage and walked back to our table. "That was really very good." I enthused, hoping not to sound too phony.

"I think not so good, I find it hard to concentrate with my lover here."

Oh Christ, which of the men in the audience is he? "Your lover, which one is he?"

"It is you Cherie." She chuckled on seeing my expression. "Did you not feel that?"

"No, I can't say that I did." There was disappointment on her face. "But then all I could think of was how good you sounded and how out of place I felt, sitting here like a shag on a rock."

"This shag on the rock, what does this mean?"

"It means that I don't fit into this scene."

"But Cherie, you must embrace this, you must say to yourself; 'I am different from all of you and proud of it, I do not need to be like you.' You are different so why should you not see that difference as a good thing?"

"Because I don't have your confidence."

"Come Cherie, you will take me home." She stood up and held her hand out for me. As we reached the door she stopped me. "Now Cherie, did you not feel every man's eyes on you as you walked out with me? You have something that they can only dream of." She kissed me.

I hailed a passing cab and we soon arrived at her building. In the lift, on the way up to her floor, she put her arms around my neck and kissed me, only breaking the kiss when the lift pinged to a halt and the doors opened. She led me down the passage to her flat and handed me her keys.

It was an artist's type of flat, there were things scattered around the place, a coat draped over the back of the sofa, a pair of shoes on the floor where they had dropped after being slipped off. There were dishes in the sink and the remains of a meal on the bench top. While it was untidy, it was also clean. She took a couple of flute glasses from a cupboard and a bottle of proper champagne from her refrigerator. "Some champagne to celebrate." She deftly opened the bottle without splashing a drop and poured us each a glass. She touched her glass to mine and sipped. I sipped my bubbly and thought how much better this was than the cheap sparkling wines that seem to get thrust on us at parties, drinkable but hell, what a hangover.

"This is very good. What are we celebrating?"

"We celebrate our first night together, is this not something to celebrate?"

"I'll drink to that, but, let me tell you that this is the first time a woman has celebrated her first night with me, or any night with me." I decided to stop talking around then and to cover my confusion I picked up the champagne bottle, shit, a Pol Roger.

"Cherie," I couldn't get over how great that sounded. "You must not, how you say it, put yourself down like this. You and I, it is fate for us to be together." She whispered this to me just before she kissed me with such passion that I could feel my knees giving way

"I'll go with fate." That sounded so trite. "It sure as hell isn't my magnetic personality." Okay, I was feeling a tad light headed and was fishing for compliments just to hear her call me 'Cherie' once more.

Monique took my glass from me and led the way to her bedroom where she placed both glasses and the bottle on the bedside table. "This is for after."

"After what?"

"This." She then proceeded to undress me. Stooping to untie my shoes and lower my trousers she kissed the head of my, by now erect, cock. "Mmm, this is good is it not?"

"It is good, yes." I held my breath as she worked her magic down there before moving up and taking my shirt off. She ran her fingers through the hairs on my chest. "It is also good that you do not wax."

"I'm a coward when it comes to things like that, I can't stand the pain."

"Love should not include pain." She sucked on a nipple before moving to my neck. I felt that I should contribute to this, and reached for her scarf. "No Cherie, leave this." I have never, in my limited experience, experienced anything like watching her taking off her clothes. I had once, on a friend's buck's night, been to a strip club and watched the girls go through the motions of taking their clothes off. My mates seemed to think that they were good, but I thought that they had cheapened the whole process. There was nothing sensual about the pelvic thrusts and simulated masturbation that passed for a tease. I didn't get an erection then, but watching Monique sensually remove her clothes had me with the hardest erection that I'd ever experience. 

"My god, you are so beautiful."

"I see that you think so." She said with a smile of pure sexiness as she looked at him, standing out proudly from my loins. "Come." She pulled the sheet down and led me to her bed.

I thought that I had a vivid imagination when it came to writing about sex, but nothing in my wildest dreams prepared me for what she led me through that night. There was nothing cheap about what we did, it was a man and a woman expressing their love for each other in a very tangible way. Monique led me through the subtle nuances of love-making while at the same time allowing me to believe that I was in charge, telling me that she had never had love like this before, expressing in her touch, the sounds of her climax, the uncontrolled spasms as she reached her climax, that I was the greatest lover that ever existed and that she lost control in my hands. I never thought for a moment that she was insincere, and her words, when we woke in the morning to another long session of passion, confirmed that. 

"Cherie I am lost."

"Lost?" I was puzzled.

"You have stolen my heart and I am yours. I give my heart to you willingly for it has found its home."

"If someone other than you had said that to me I would have found it hard to believe, but you my love, you speak from the heart, I feel it, I know it. Soon I will wake from this dream and realise just how cruel dreams can be."

"Don't be sad Cherie, it is not a dream of sadness, for it is a dream of love."

The whole of Sunday floated by on a cloud of love. It was getting dark when I forced myself to withdraw from this. "Monique, my love, I have to go home. I need to go home, I have to work tomorrow and if I stay here with you I know that I will never get to work on time."

"I will come with you Cherie. I wish to see where you live, how you live."

"There goes my good night's sleep." I chuckled to let her know that I wasn't serious. "Come, let's go." I took out my mobile phone that I'd forgotten to switch off. It had just enough charge for me to call a cab. 

I unlocked my front door and led her inside. She stood in the living room and looked around her. It wasn't a designer room by any stretch of the imagination, pure minimalist functional. I led her on a guided tour, showing her the bathroom and toilet, and my inner sanctum where I wrote. She was interested in the folders that I had stacked on a shelf that contained my work. She opened the one that I hoped that she wouldn't, and began to leaf through it until she came to one page in particular. 

She read the words slowly, taking in the theme. I knew that it was a poem that I had written to express my memories of my father's suffering. He had been a train driver and involved in, we think, thirteen fatalities, all but two had been suicides, people jumping in front of his train as it pulled into a station. These incidents were the reason for his binge drinking, but the authority's response was to put him straight back to work, 'get back on the horse' they said. I don't know what was worse, the incident or the Coronial Inquiry where he had to re-live the whole episode and give evidence under the angry gaze of the deceased's relatives.

"This is so sad, but it is beautiful that you have captured your feelings, his feelings."

"Yes, it took a toll on his whole family, not just when it happened, but afterwards when he could not sleep through the night without having nightmares."

"Has he recovered from this?"

"In a way yes he did just before he died. He lost his memory, it was said that he had developed Alzheimer's, but the amount of medication that was being shoved down his throat was enough to dull his memories. He died several years ago."

"I'm so sorry Cherie." She took my face in her hands and kissed me softly on the lips. 

I could tell, even before she withdrew her lips from mine, that she was weeping. I wiped the tears away with my lips. "Enough of this sadness, come, leave this." I led her to my bedroom.

"This room, it is you, so strong, a man's room."

"I try to maintain that illusion, but in reality it isn't me."

"It is you Cherie, it is how you would like to be, so it is you. When you think better of yourself you will be this room."

By morning I felt so much better about myself, for the first time in my life I was truly in love. I was wishing that I didn't have to go to work, but needs must. Monique made coffee for me, and as I munched on my slice of toast, she said to me, "For tomorrow I will buy croissants, you will have a French breakfast."

"What are your plans for today?" I know what I was hoping her plans would be, but was afraid that her answer would not match my hope.

"Today I return to my apartment and pack some clothes, and then I return here. I will stay with you, not all of the time, but as often as I can. In this way I do not have to go home for fresh clothes when I want to stay over with you. I will not pack night clothes. Then I think that I will call in to your work and take you to lunch. Is this not a good thing?"

"This is a very good thing, I look forward to it."

"Your work colleagues, they will be surprised, no?"

"They will be surprised, yes." I could just imagine the look on my work colleagues' faces, especially Grant, who is forever crapping on about his conquests, when Monique rocks up to take me to lunch.

I kissed her good-bye, I should say that we kissed each other good-bye. "Au revoir Cherie." She whispered to me as she clung to me. She stood at the door and waved as I drove off to work. By the time that I reached work I was beginning to miss her, but my mood changed as I walked through the office to my desk. 

"It looks like Ben got laid over the weekend." Grant's leering voice followed me. "Did you have to feed her seeing-eye dog before you could make love to her?"

I gave him the rigid digit but otherwise ignored him, he would keep. Sandra, my Secretary came in with the reports that I'd need and messages from the Claims Department of damaged cars that I would have to inspect. I called the repairers where they were held and arranged a time to look them over, making sure of course, to be clear for lunch.

Grant came into my office. "Sorry about my comments earlier, but there is something different about you this morning."

"There is, but the less I talk about it the better. Now, have you got those payments sorted for the repairers, I thought that I could kill two birds with one stone by dropping them off when I visit them today, those that I'm not seeing you will have to deliver yourself."

"Tell me where you're going and I'll get the payments ready for you." I handed him my appointment list and he went off to prepare the payments. Our boss had made the decision that we should deliver payments personally rather than electronic funds transfer, so that we continue to promote the contact and goodwill between us and them.

The morning was spent sorting through the many quotations that we had received from various repairers for work to be done. Our company insists on three quotations and we don't necessarily accept the lowest price, we also consider previous work done by them in making our decision. The time flew by and before I knew it Sandra buzzed me to tell me that a woman was waiting for me in Reception. "Send her in." I told her.

A hush spread over the office as Monique walked through it, I swear I thought I heard Grant's chin hit his desk as she walked by his office. I could see him staring after her and the look on his face when I rose to meet her was priceless, but not as priceless as the one when she kissed me, and it wasn't the cheek to cheek air kiss of the French, it was a full-on passionate kiss that told him that she and I were in love and 'an item'. She rubbed salt in by grabbing my arm and holding it as we left for lunch. I stopped at his door, and he handed me the envelopes with the payments, his eyes never deviating from Monique. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said.

"Yeah, see ya." For the first time in living memory he was lost for words.

"I do not like that man." Monique said loud enough for him to hear. "He is, how you say it, the wolf. He will never be happy with one woman, to him they are scalps on his belt."

"That pretty much sums him up, he's always having a go at me about my lack of success with women."




My Muse



"You do not have success with women?"

"No, I don't, probably because I feel uncomfortable when I am alone with a woman."

"I did not notice this."

"With you it's different, with you I feel invincible."

I had chosen a quiet little restaurant that specialised in French cuisine. Monique took charge of the ordering, questioning the waitress on each dish before settling on Duck Marechale with a Bigarade sauce, it was sweet and succulent and we had a dry Rosé to go with it, it sure as hell beat my usual lunch of a sandwich from the local deli and a cup of coffee.

Reluctantly I set off on my rounds of the repairers, finishing at around four thirty, too late to go back to the office, so I headed home to be met at the door by Monique in jeans and a tee shirt and an apron, not one of those frilly things you used to see in old American TV shows where the little wife met the husband with a martini to tide him over while she cooked up burgers or something. What Monique was cooking for me definitely wasn't burgers. Apart from being the most beautiful woman that I have ever met, she was a bloody good cook. It was a leisurely meal, the food was brilliant, the wine, from my own stock, obviously superb, and the dessert was out of this world. I was going to have to watch my waist-line or I'd have to buy new clothes when these shrank.

After dinner she led me down the passage but hung a left at my study. "I have been reading what you have been writing. Do not ever think that it is not good, it is good, very good. You are a very good writer. I have decided that I shall sit here with you while you write, I will read while you write, you have a lot of books so I will not disturb you."

For the first time in I don't know how long, I was able to immediately pick up the thread of the current story and the words just flowed onto the computer screen without pause for the better part of an hour. Monique said nothing in that time, but at the end of it she got up from the reading chair and left the room. "She's bored already." I thought to myself, but a couple of minutes later she was back with two glasses of cognac.

"We will drink this and then I think it time that we went to bed."

What can I say about my bed? It was no longer just a place to sleep, it had become in two nights, a place where two people who loved each other cemented the bond between them. As I gained in confidence Monique found that she no longer had to lead me through our love-making, I was able to take control, and it felt great. I couldn't believe that I, a socially awkward man with no recorded success with women, was able to advance my skills so far in such a short time. The love making continued into the early hours of the morning only to resume some four hours later.

Fortified by coffee, (strong) and lots of it, and croissants, and the promise of more to come, I headed for work and the inevitable grilling from Grant. "Who was that gorgeous woman that you left here with yesterday, and does she have a sister? Where did you meet her? Are you seeing her again? How is it that someone as useless as you can attract a woman like her? On and on he went, even following me into my office. My response to all of his questions was a firm 'no comment'. Eventually he gave up and slunk back to his desk a beaten man.

"You caused quite a stir when you left with her yesterday, you realise that, don't you?" Sandra asked.

"Yes, and I'm going to milk it for all its worth."

"Okay, spill. Where did you meet her and who is she?"

"I met her on Saturday night at that stupid party that my next door neighbour invited me to. Her name is Monique, she's French and a singer. She took me to this club where she's singing and after that we went to her place, and on Sunday evening I took her to mine. We've been together since. Sandy, she's beautiful and sexy and I'm in love."

"About bloody time. If I was on the market I'd even consider hitting on you, but as I'm not I haven't, not that you'd agree to it, you're not that type, not like Grant who's hit on every single girl in the place, and some of the married ones as well."

"Grant's really pissed off. I don't think he'll ever come to grips with this development."

"It couldn't happen to a nicer person." She smiled as she dropped the files on my desk and went back to her work.

I sorted through the files, contacted those successful repairers to give them the go-ahead, sorted the completed jobs and sent them to claims for payment, looked at new claims to plan my itinerary for tomorrow. I was just about to head out for my customary sandwich when Monique walked into my office and my arms. Sandra looked pleased while Grant glowered (is there such a word?) at me from his office. She kissed me, and waited while I filed the files that needed to be filed, before we headed out to lunch. We paused at Sandra's desk. "Sandra, this is Monique, Darling this is Sandra, my Secretary, who approves of you by the way."

"So pleased to meet you." Monique said as she stepped around the desk and kissed Sandra on the cheek.

"I am very pleased to meet you. You'll never know just how many years I have waited for this day, so you'd better look after him, he's a keeper."

"Oh Ben." Grant came out of his office. "Have you got the payment files for me?" It was just an excuse to drag an introduction out of me, so that he could apply all the smarmy charm that he used on Monique.

"Speak to Sandra, she can get them from my desk." We kept walking.

"You do not like that man do you?"

"On that point we are in total agreement, I hate him and all like him who treat women as their own personal play things."

"That is what tells me that you are a good writer, you know people, you know the good ones from the bad."

"In his case it's not rocket science, we had to make his office door wider just to fit his head through." She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "That means that he has a big head, he's full of himself. Something that I'll never be."

"But Cherie, when you become the famous author you will get a big head, n'est pas?"

"Never. It is not in me to be like him, I do not think that I am any better than anyone, different yes, better no."

"This I like about you, I see too many men who think that they are better than other men." There was something in her voice that bothered me. I shrugged it off as just my imagination.

Lunch was different from yesterday in that I took her to a different bistro, one that served what could be described as Australian cuisine, a combination of European and Asian influences highlighted by the subtle use of spices to enhance the foods based on the strong meat flavours of Eastern Europe. We chatted quietly to each other, our conversation an expression of the gentle nature of our love for each other. I was reluctant to see her leave but I had work to do.

After dinner I sat at my computer writing while Monique sat in the reading chair reading what I had written the previous evening. "Cherie, I must say something to you."

"What is it?" I was curious.

"When you write of a man and woman making love you describe what they do very well, but there is something missing."

"Yes?" I was more curious, where was this going?

"Where is the love between them? They are having sex when they are supposed to be in love. You do not say what they are feeling, they could be a whore and her client."

"But that is what people want to read, sex sells."

"When you make love to me it is different from when you have sex with a whore is it not?"

"I don't know, I have never had that particular experience."

"I do not know how to say what I am thinking, I do not have the English words for what I mean. Come, I show you." She stood up and stripped off her clothes, her beautiful body standing there in the bright light of the room. She dropped to her knees and opened my fly, pulling my cock from the confines of my trousers. Her mouth engulfed him and as he stood up she began to give me a blow job. It was crude in its speed, her head moved back and forth with increasing speed and just as I was about to come into her mouth, she withdrew from me and pulled my trousers down. Then she stretched out on the floor, her legs wide apart in a crude invitation for me to fuck her.

"Monique, my love, don't do this."

She stood and came to me, taking my head in her hands, she kissed me. There was none of the crude sexuality of before, instead there was tenderness and love. She undid the buttons and took my shirt from me, then enclosed my body in her arms. Her mouth covered mine and her tongue pressed against my lips asking for permission to enter my mouth. I allowed her entry. She held me like this for several minutes and then a hand moved between us and took my cock gently in its grasp, leading it to her moist and waiting pussy. She raised her right leg a little to allow me access to her body. I was hard, harder than I had been when she was sucking my cock, and it slid into her. A sigh came from her lips as she clung to me. I moved slowly inside her, I felt that this was what she wanted me to do, it was certainly what I wanted to do. I lost all track of time, it could have been ten minutes, (it wasn't) or it could have been an hour later, (close but no cigar, it was even longer) when she gasped and pulled my hips fiercely to hers just as he exploded, filling her to overflowing.

"You are a very good teacher." I whispered to her as we stood, my now limp cock held inside her, holding back the floodgates of sperm waiting to ooze from her. "I couldn't take you when you were on the floor, it is not in me to do this."

"This I knew, I knew that for you the love between us is more than just sex, you love me as I love you, and your expression of that love is making love, not having sex. This is why I love you and want your love all the time, and that is why that Grant person will never find love, for him it is about himself, not the other person." 

The longer Monique stayed with me, the more confident I got with my writing. When she told me that what I had written was good there was no sign of her words being a platitude. I had come to appreciate her criticisms as much as her praise, for someone without a full grasp of the English language she showed an amazing understanding of the feeling in my prose, the poetry in my words. If I thought that I was good before, I was thinking that I was much better than good, not brilliant (yet) but getting there.

There were times when she wasn't with me, when she had to go back to her apartment, to do her laundry or whatever, get ready for a singing gig, when the words ceased to flow, I became blocked. When this happened I just stopped writing until her return. Just having her with me, even if she said nothing, was enough to inspire me. I hoped that a time would come when I was able to give up my dull day job and become a full-time author. This was some time off and I still had to earn a living.

Grant was being a right royal pain in the arse at work. He tried to start a rumour that he and Monique had made love one day while I was doing the rounds of the repairers, even going as far as saying that he had arranged my itinerary so that he had time to slip around to my place and fuck her. 

"Grant, a word in your shell-like if you would." I said as I walked past his office on the way to mine. "Hold all calls." I told Sandra as I walked past hers. He followed me into my office and sat down.

"What's the matter?"

"Monique will be here in a few minutes and she will be bringing my Solicitor. I will be asking you to apologise to her for the rumours that you have been spreading about you and she having sex."

"How do you know it isn't true, how do you know that she isn't a whore taking you for what she can get from you?"

"You will find out soon enough." I could see them walking through the office. Sandra ushered them in with a smile on her face, she had heard the rumours and alerted me about them, knowing them not to be true.

I took Monique in my arms and kissed her. She stood close to me, her arm around me. "Thanks for coming Jim." I said to my Solicitor. "This is Grant, I believe that you have something for him."

"I sure do." He took a paper from his briefcase and handed it to Grant who read it.

"This is bullshit! I can prove every word that I have said." That's Grant all over, working on the three 'B' principle, bluff, bluster, and bullshit.

"That's interesting, could you give us a record of the time and place that these assignations took place?"

"I can't remember exactly, but I can check my diary, that'll tell me."

"You do that." Jim told him.

He wandered off to get his diary. Opening it at a recent page, he said. "Here it is, Thursday the 20th at 11:00am, I was at your place for an hour fucking Monique."

Jim sifted through his files and took another sheet from it. "Ah, here it is. At 11:00 on the 20th, Ben was at Blandford Crash talking to Bob Blandford, would you like to hear what Bob had to say about that visit? Don't worry, you're going to hear it whether you like it or not. It says here that when Ben visited them he had with him, and these are Bob's words, 'the most amazingly beautiful woman that I have ever seen, Ben introduced us to Monique, his partner. It was obvious from the way that they looked at each other that they were very much in love. Some guys have all the luck.' End quote. So you see you lying bastard, you couldn't have been having sex with her at the time that you said that you were, or any other time for that matter, and do you know why? Let me enlighten you, every day that Ben has gone out on the road since the first week after he met Monique, she has gone with him. She has come in to meet him when he was going out, and has gone with him. I'll also tell you why she has done that, it was because she loved him very much and couldn't bear to be apart from him for any length of time. On the days when he had to be in the office all day they had lunch together. You didn't know about this because they didn't want you to know about it."

"This is bullshit and I can prove it!"

"You'll have your chance to do that, because, unless you issue a full and unequivocal apology to Monique in front of the staff here, you will have to prove it in court. Monique is suing you for slander."

"She can't do that!" He was getting desperate.

"She can and she will. Sandra, would you gather the staff together and wait for us in the boardroom?"

"You bet." Sandra was enjoying this.

"Now, one last time, do we get an apology or not?"

Before he had a chance to answer Henry (The big boss) came into my office. "Ben, why are the staff all heading for the boardroom?"

"We are going to have a meeting to discuss a rumour, or rumours, that have been spread around the office about Monique and Grant."

"I heard about that and couldn't believe it, I thought that she must surely have had better taste than get involved with him. If he hadn't been good at his job he would have been flicked ages ago." The way he said it you would have thought that Grant wasn't even there. "If what you say is true, I might have to review that decision. What do you have to say for yourself Grant?"

"All right, I lied, okay, I made it up. I just couldn't understand how someone as naïve, as hopeless with women, as Ben here could manage to get someone like Monique, and keep her."

"I will tell you how." Monique got in quick before anyone else could reply. "It is because he is a kind and caring man who has love in his heart not his penis. You are a bad man, you cannot hold a girl for long because you think only of her as a toy. Ben is the most gentle lover that I have ever had, and with every kiss, every caress, he tells me he loves me. He does not have to say the words that slip so easily from your lips, because I know that he loves me, I will love him always because of this. I would rather die than allow you to even touch me, let alone allow you to make love to me."

"Grant," Henry looked at him angrily. "You will get your secretary to type up your apology for you to read to the staff, and while she's at it your resignation. If you do not comply with this order, you will be sacked on the spot and lose any entitlements that you might have. Do I make myself clear? I am glad that the staff have taken this action because it shows me that they are prepared to stand up for what they believe is right and proper. We are going to join the rest of the staff, I might even call a celebration. If you haven't joined us in five minutes you can kiss good-bye to any entitlements that you might be expecting, so you'd better get your finger out."

Five minutes later he walked sheepishly into the boardroom. We were all seated around the table on which, somehow, had appeared snacks and several bottles of proper bubbly.

"Guys, if I could have your attention for a few minutes." Silence descended on the room. He looked at the page in his trembling hand for several seconds. "I would like to humbly apologise to Ben and Monique for the slanderous rumours that I have put about that said that Monique and I had been lovers. This is not the truth, we have never been lovers, I don't think she'd have me."

"You got that right." Sandra said.

"In my defence. . ."

"We don't want to hear it."

"In my defence, I was jealous, more jealous than I could have ever imagined. Here was this beautiful woman obviously in love with Ben."

"You'd better quit while you're ahead." Someone said.

"I couldn't work it out, me who has been so successful with the women, and here he was, the first time that I've seen him with a woman and look at her, I just couldn't work it out. Life doesn't make sense."

"How many second dates have you been on?" Sandra asked him.

"Not that many, I don't think there have been many."

"Doesn't that tell you something about yourself? You can never be able to love someone more than you love yourself, and us women don't like having to compete with anyone for affection."

He handed Henry his letter of resignation and left. "Send me what's owed." Were his final words. We at least waited until he was out the door before we cheered.

If we thought that would be the end of it we were very much mistaken, but it would take several months before this reared its ugly head again, and a lot happened in that time.

The first book I wrote after meeting Monique has just been picked up by a publisher and would hit the shelves in a couple of months. I was feeling good about myself at last. I haven't given up my day job yet, but I've been given a promotion so I'm not on the road as much as before. I still go out from time to time, just to maintain the contacts from my previous position, but these are more along the lines of friendly chats than work, although, if any concerns arise during these meetings, I make sure to follow up on them. Monique and I still lunch together each day, and she and Sandra have become great friends, chatting often on the phone, or when Monique is in the office. This is the lifestyle that I would like to see continue, I don't know about giving up work and becoming a full time author.

"Cherie, I have the good news to tell you." It was three months later and we had just made love and coming down from the experience of it. Monique's lips were a centimetre from mine, her hand on my face. "Today I have been to the doctor, I am having your child."

"That's great news!" I kissed her. "Monique Marie Lefleur, will you marry me?"

"Ben," Whenever she uses my name it means that she is going to say something bad, like when she doesn't like something that I have written. "Ben, Cherie, I cannot marry you. I would marry you in an instant if I could." She added quickly when she felt me stiffen.

"Why can't you?"

"Because Cherie, I am already married."




My Muse



"What? How is it that I didn't know this? How is it that you neglected to tell me that bit of news?"

"Because my Cherie, he is a bad man, a very bad man who has had men killed for looking at me. When he finds out that you want to marry me he will not think twice about killing you, and I cannot have that."

"I think that you had better tell me all." I didn't know whether I really wanted to hear this but it would be better knowing than not.

"When I was much younger, in Paris, I meet this man. My mother and father lived at Toulouse, he worked in a Chateau making wine. My mother was not happy with this life, for she was a Parisienne, a singer. She married my father because of me. He had been in Paris and they met and fell in love and she found herself pregnant with me and they married. They moved to Toulouse, which is where he was living, and I was born, but she was not happy. My father died when I was fifteen, so she moved back to Paris and found work again, singing in clubs and restaurants."

"I would go with her to listen to her singing, and one day a few years later, I was out the back singing one of her songs, and the owner of the restaurant hear me and ask me if I would like to sing for him. I said no, but he kept asking me until I said yes. My mother was angry that I was offered this work, but happy for me because she saw my passion for singing." 

"I worked hard and soon people were coming to the restaurant to hear me sing. This was when Louis began to be interested in me. It was usual for men patrons to approach me to entice me to be with them. I was afraid but Louis saw what was happening and would tell these men to not be interested in me as I was his girlfriend. After a short while no men approached me and Louis wanted me to be his girl. I spoke with Maman and she say to me that I should allow this because Louis was a very important man. So, at eighteen I became his lover and then his wife. I thought that I had everything that I desired, but alors, I soon realise that I am wrong. He is important bad man, he has prostitutes working for him, he deals in drugs, he is a leader of a very bad gang that beats people and, I am told, kills people. I think that I will have to escape from him but how?"

"And then things between us changed. He ask me to entertain men, his colleagues, or men that he want to gain advantage over, he want me to make love with them so that he can hold this over them to get what he want. I do not like to do this, I do not want to do this, but he frighten me and I do this. I think that he no longer cares for me, so I want to leave him, but this is not possible. For me to leave him will show his friends he have no control over me, and his enemies that he has the weakness, so he will not let me go."

"Then one of the other singers tell me of this engagement to sing in Australie, and I see this is my chance. I plead with Louis to let me go. At first he is angry that I should want to do this, but then he say to me, 'you can go'. I find out later, after the end of the engagement, that he has another girl with him and that the reason that he allow me to come here was to be with her. With another woman with him he gains face with his friends, but he still will not allow me a divorce. You have to know him to understand this."

"So I contact Maman and ask her to find a lawyer and get a divorce. This is when I find that he will not let me go. It is, for him all right to have the girlfriend, but it is not all right for me to want a divorce, even though I do not have another man in my life. He tell Maman that if I do this he will kill me, he will come here to kill me. He say that I bring shame to him, and that he will lose face with his friends and associates, and this he will not allow. So I am afraid for me, and I am afraid for you because I know that he has been told about us. I don't know who tell him this, but he knows. I am afraid for you, I am afraid for us and that is why we cannot marry."

"But he is in Paris and you are here."

"That will not stop him. He does not care if I live with someone, if I love someone, he just will not allow me to marry. So, Cherie, I will live with you, I will have your child, your children, but we cannot marry."

"In this country that will be no big deal, many, many couples love each other and live with each other, have children, all as if they are married. The relationship, our relationship, will have the same status as a marriage. What I will settle for is for us to exchange vows as if we were in front of a Priest or whatever, a Celebrant, we just won't mention the slight impediment of your husband in this scenario. I love you Monique, and I will always love you, I will spend the rest of my life with you, care for you when you are unwell and when you are well, I will love no other for the rest of my days."

"I love you Cherie, I love no other forever, and I will be by your side till the end of time. This thing we say to each other is all I need from you, to me you are my husband." She kissed me, softly, longingly, lovingly.

"You have shown me the love that I cannot live without, you are indeed my wife for life." I returned her kiss, softly, longingly, lovingly. Monique and I were a family and the child inside her will know love from before birth. There was no way that I would allow a child of mine to grow up without the full and open expression of love. He or she will never suffer the social awkwardness that has blighted my life until I met Monique.

We couldn't have been happier than we were now, our lives would now be complete, but for a couple of things.

Monique was sitting in a chair in my office reading the newspaper while I tidied up a few things before we went to lunch. I heard a gasp, and when I looked at her, her face was fixed with a horrified gaze. "What is it?"

"Oh Cherie, they cannot do this, they cannot allow this to happen."

"What's the problem and who is 'they'?"

"Your Immigration Department. Louis, my husband, is appealing the decision to ban him from entering the country on the basis of his criminal record."

"Seems fair enough to me. Why, what reason has he given for wanting to come here?"

"Let me see. His reasons are that he wants to visit a close family member who, he says, has suffered a mental breakdown, he says that he wants to take her home. He means me, he wants to take me home. Ben, we must not allow this to happen."

"Don't worry about a thing, I'll make a few enquiries to find out as much as I can about his appeal. Now let's put this behind us and go to lunch."

"I do not think that I am hungry." 

"Monique, my love, there is no way that he will be able to harm you, I'll not allow it. We can't let this upset us at this time. Please, try to put this out of your mind and get something to eat." 

"I try, but it will be hard for me for I know this man." I took her in my arms and held her to me. "I think it best for me to leave you and go away."

"You can get those thoughts out of your head for a start. We are in this together, and together we can beat this. Look, while the Immigration Department won't allow him entry we are safe, so, unless they change their mind, and I can't see that happening, we are safe from him." I took her hand and we walked out of the office.

Our lunch was a subdued affair, neither of us feeling much like idle chit chat but relishing our closeness. As we left the restaurant I took her in my arms. "Darling, I don't think that you should be left alone, why don't you come back to work with me. You and Sandra can chat amongst yourselves while I tidy up a few things and then we'll go home.

While she and Sandra were working on something that Sandra found for them to do together, I rang Henry. "Sir, something has come up concerning Monique, I wonder if I could have a couple of weeks' vacation to get away from everything?"

"Sure, take all the time you like, we can cover for you, I might even like going out and chatting with your contacts."

"Thanks Henry, I owe you."

"No Ben, you're just getting some of what I owe you. Enjoy yourselves."

We did, as much as our thoughts would allow. We headed up the North Coast and found a quite spot where we could relax. There was a beach that stretched for kilometres and was usually devoid of people and along which we walked, allowing the beauty and serenity of nature wash the cares from our minds. At night we ate in one of the several restaurants whose menus featured fresh seafood and good wines. After dinner we went to bed. At first it was difficult to get in the mood for love, but as our time progressed we found it easier. Monique and I had truly come together.

"There is one thing that I've meant to ask you." I said as I kissed her.

"What is it?" She returned my kiss.

"That first night, the night we met and all of this began, why did you come over to me, not that I'm complaining mind you."

"It was you. At first when I see you watching me I think that you are jealous of the man I speak with, and that you were one of those, how you say, stalkers. This I did not like but you do not approach me. Then I see that you are telling me that you feel sorry for me having to listen to these men say how good they are and that I should feel honour that they talk to me. I also see that you are a shy man and not comfortable at this party, so I come to you. As I talk with you I think that I can help you and you can help me."

"I didn't think that you needed help, you looked perfectly capable of taking care of yourself."

"That is not so. All of my life I have been told to obey men and what they want for me to do. This I do not like but think that I will never be free of this. You I think, will not want that from me. I also think that you do not have the confidence in self, so I think that if I were to become your Muse we can help each other."

"I don't know that I have helped you all that much, but as my Muse you have certainly helped me improve my writing, and you have helped me as a person by giving me the self-confidence I needed to stand up to Grant and his lies. Before I met you I would just have slunk off into my office and stewed over it."

"But you have helped me Cherie, you have shown me how a man should love a woman, you have shown me love. Without you I would not have known true love." 

All too soon it was time to return to the real world. The nearer we got to home the more tense I felt. I tried not to show it, but my Monique sensed my tension. 

Appropriately enough, night was closing in when I drove into my driveway. For some reason the garage door didn't open when I pressed the button on my dashboard, so I got out to open it manually. As I was about to insert the key in the lock all hell broke loose. Cars appeared from no-where, all flashing red and blue lights. They converged on a parked car and there was a lot of yelling. "Get out of the car, now!" "On the ground!" "Cuff him!" "Get to your feet!" "You and you, search his car, look for a detonator of some description while I go and have a chat to these two." A man approached, a big man with a determined look on his face. "Sorry to bother you sir, my name is Detective Inspector Browning, we can't let you into your house, you have a surprise waiting for you inside, and not a pleasant surprise."

"Monique got out of the car with a look of fear on her face. "What is wrong here?"

"Nothing to worry about miss, at least not now. But we cannot allow you to go inside just yet, we have a lot of work to do before we can allow that. We need to ask both of you some questions and, rather than take you to the station, I thought that we should find you a hotel room and conduct the interview there. It will give you somewhere to stay until we clear up this mess."

"Do we have a choice?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was to spend another night in a hotel. I was just about hotelled out.

"In a word, no. No harm can come to you there, we will have you under police guard the whole time and not allow you to come back here until we are certain that it is completely safe."

To say that I was confused was not entirely true, my worst fears had just been realised, but, I rationalised, if that was the worst and it had been taken care of, we would have nothing more to worry about. I took Monique in my arms. "Everything's going to be fine."

"How do you know this?" She was afraid and her mumbled speech conveyed this.

"These men have obviously stopped something bad that was going to happen to us, and arrested whoever it was that wanted that something bad to happen. I don't know who that is, and frankly I don't care, just as long as he doesn't get another chance."

There was a procession of sorts as we were driven to a hotel. There was a smaller procession, just one delivery van, when we were driven from that hotel to another.

"You're taking incredible precautions for us, aren't you?"

"Yes, and with good reason. We have arrested a man in connection with a plot to blow you up, and there will be another arrest in connection with this plot, someone known to Miss Lefleur."

"Mon Dieu, Louis!"

"The one and the same. The Sureté have been monitoring his phones for some time, and when they intercepted text messages to someone here they alerted us so that we could investigate. The local contact had contracted with your Louis to kill you. For some reason known only to him, Louis considered it preferable to kill you rather than have you divorce him."

"But how, why, who made the first approach?"

"That came from this end. It would seem that the article in the papers about Louis wanting to come to Australia to save a close relative who had suffered a breakdown, included a photo of Miss Lefleur. The person here recognised her from this photo, and contacted Louis, telling him that he knew of her location and offering assistance. When Louis contacted him and told him that he wanted her dead, negotiations began in earnest. A lot of money was involved."

"Who is the local contact?" I had already worked that out for myself, I just needed confirmation.

"I believe Mr Symonds, that you know this man. His name is Grant Anderson."

"I thought that might be who it was, I know that he didn't like me much, but to hate me to the extent of wanting to kill me, that surprises even me."

"Since he was asked to resign from his last job, and apparently you had some involvement in that decision, he has been unable to find work. He had been running a scam that I don't think that your company knew about, involving second hand car parts."

"Tell me more."

"Through a parts recycling company he was able to set up a lucrative market for 'hot' parts. The way that it worked was, a young lad would go to the recyclers looking for something like an STi spec WRX motor to replace the standard motor, which they were only too happy to sell to him at a good price. What they didn't tell him was, that matching a STi spec motor to a standard drive-train resulted in the gearbox self-destructing, creating a market for the upgraded transmission at an inflated price, knowing that he had to get his pride and joy back on the road as quickly as possible. He was told that the fitting would take time, and that he would also have to re-chip the ECU computer, which of course was an additional cost. The exercise ended up costing the young lad a lot more than if he had gone to a reputable tuner in the first place. Grant was able, through the insurance company, source performance parts from written off cars."

"How does this tie-in with his contacting Louis?"

"It seems that the principles behind the scam were also involved in drugs, and had contacts around the world. It was through this network that they knew Louis. Grant had apparently mentioned to one of his local contacts that he knew Monique and Louis was approached with the information."

"That doesn't explain how it was that Grant was able to set explosives to blow us up."

"You can thank his friends for that. They provided him with the necessaries and even broke into your house and showed him the best places to set the explosives. We have seen the results of their efforts and, believe me, if we hadn't stopped him when we did, you would not be here now."

"But why did you let it go as far as it did? Surely you could have arrested him well before we got home?"

"We could have, but it was a matter of the charges that we could have laid. If we had arrested him before the act we could only charge him with setting the explosives, he could have argued that it was an insurance scam that you and he were perpetrating to profit from the destruction of your house. But by arresting him actually pushing the button while you were in the immediate vicinity, raises the charge to one of attempted murder."

"Okay, next question, how was it that you were alerted to this attempt to kill us?"

"You can thank your secretary for that. Before the two of you went away, Sandra and Monique had been discussing the reasons for the holiday. Monique mentioned that she was afraid of this Louis character, and that she wasn't feeling safe, even thousands of kilometres away. We alerted the Sureté, and when that first contact was made between him and Grant, we were alerted. So, we put a tail on him. That was how we could map his association with the parts scam, we had been searching for a tie-in with an insurance company for some time. Once we were aware of his plans it was a simple matter of keeping your house under very close surveillance, there were complaints from a neighbour of yours about the toy helicopter that seemed to be always hovering around. It was one of ours, fitted with a camera, we sent it up when a suspicious vehicle was parked in the vicinity, we saw them break in, we even have pictures, a little fuzzy admittedly, but clear enough, of them setting charges. So you see, we had every contingency covered."

"So what happens now?"

"We have teams going around arresting other members of the gang. There will be court appearances, and we will be opposing bail on each case. In Paris the Sureté will be making arrests based on information provided by us, your friend Louis will be charged with attempted murder and a whole bunch of other charges. With any sort of luck, he will be put away for a long spell."

"When will we be able to go home?"

"It should be in a couple of days, we need to tie up any loose ends before we can allow you to go home. Don't worry about your job, we have spoken to your boss and he told us to tell you that he doesn't want you anywhere near work until this is sorted. You are still on paid leave."

In the usual scheme of things, a man and a woman who love each other as Monique and I do, on finding themselves confined to a hotel room for even a couple of days, would be forgiven for allowing unbridled lust to take over their lives and spend all of their time making love. After what we had been through, neither of us could gain much enthusiasm for making love, but we did spend a lot of our time in bed, naked, just holding each other and allowing our feelings for each other to merge. On the third day we had eventually found the need for love-making stronger than our reticence and were just reaching that climactic moment when the phone rang. "This had better be good." I mumbled into it.

"Get you gear on, you're going home." It was Browning.

"So, it's all over, is it?"

"Yes, all neatly tied up. Your friend Grant is being very helpful, probably hoping that we'll go easy on him for shopping his friends. He's going to be a tad upset when we charge him with attempted murder as well as his involvement in the scam operation. It's a very big book that we're throwing at him, one that he won't be able to duck."

"Thanks for that."

"There's a car downstairs waiting to take you home."

Browning had a smile on his face as we emerged into the foyer. He led us to his car and actually drove us home. "You two take care, won't you?"




My Muse



"You'd better believe it." I carried Monique over my threshold in a symbolic gesture, we were together and that was how it would stay, nothing could upset us now.

If I thought that life couldn't get any better than this, I had my Muse, the woman of my dreams, in a couple of months I would be a father, I was seriously mistaken. "Cherie, I have good news!" Her happiness radiated from her every pore. "I have spoken to Maman, she has told me that Louis est morte, he is dead. One of his men kill him to take over his business, so we are safe forever." She kissed me more passionately than she has for some time.

"It also means that we can get married!" I kissed her in reply.

"Yes, my Cherie, we can." Her kisses were not just on my lips, they were all over my face. "I must send for Maman, she must be here for this."

"Yes you must send for her. Will we need to book a church and a priest?"

"Will you do this?"

"Yes. The church wedding isn't necessary in my books, but I think that it is important for you and your mother, so I will do it."

And that is how, a month later, I stood in front of a Catholic Priest and exchanged vows with my Monique.



My Muse



I speak about the only muse I have...

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