2 comments/ 4944 views/ 10 favorites Art in Reality Ch. 01-02 By: Paul_Clowell Chapter One There was knocking on the car window. He pushed the button, the glass glides down, and a torrent of rain flooded in. On the other side of the door, in the gloom, he saw her. 'Are you okay?' she cried over the howling gale. 'Yes, I'm fine. It's just the car, it's stuck in the mud' he shouted back. 'I could just about make you out as I was passing. I thought you might be hurt.' 'No, I'm okay. It's very kind of you to check. A sheep jumped out in front of me. I swerved and ended up stuck in here. You're getting soaked.' 'That's okay. Have you got someone coming to pull you out? A truck or something?' she said, holding her hair up away from her eyes. 'No, I don't think anyone will come out in this storm. I was going to sit it out here. I didn't fancy walking back home through this. Especially not on these lanes.' 'Oh right. Well as long as you're okay.' She stood up away from the window and took a couple of steps back towards her car. She paused and then returned. 'How far is your house then?' 'Annoyingly it's only about fifteen minutes drive. But I wasn't counting on this weather!' 'Do you want a lift?' she asked. 'I wouldn't want you to go out of your way. Thank you though', he replied. 'Well we're both pointing the same direction and I don't think there are many turn offs off this road. Are you sure? I'll probably be passing your place anyway.' 'Well if you don't mind. Thank you.' ~ He wound up the window, picked his bag off the front seat and pushed the door open. Stepping outside he was immediately assaulted by the weather. The wind threw the rain into his face and was bitingly cold. The two of them crossed over to where she had stopped her car a few yards down lane. They both jumped in and slammed the doors behind them. The isolation of the vehicle felt suddenly quiet in contrast to the thundering noise of the storm outside. They looked across at each other and smiled. His suit jacket and trousers were wet, but the short hop between cars had not been enough to soak through to his shirt. She however, had not been so lucky. Her jeans were dark blue; completely saturated with rain. Her jumper was hanging heavily from her shoulders, looking like a sponge pulled up from a bucket of water. 'God, you look soaked through. I'm sorry. It's very kind of you to stop. Let alone give me a lift,' he broke the silent pause. 'I can't believe how quickly this weather blew in. I was outside painting only an hour ago,' she said, breaking eye contact with him and looking out the windscreen. 'Storms come in fast from the sea,' he said, as he took the opportunity to cast his eyes over her features. She was strikingly beautiful. 'Let's get going. Straight on I guess?' she questioned, looking back to him. 'Erm, yes.' His thoughts of her appearance being broken made him suddenly flounder. 'It's follow this road, pretty much the whole way. I can shout when we get to the turning.' 'Okay.' She started the engine, causing the interior light to fade and the headlights to beam out into the gloom ahead. She drove slowly and cautiously ahead, through the appalling weather. ~ This was perhaps a stupid thing to be doing, she thought. Picking up a man in the middle of nowhere, in the near dark, on her own. But she had felt compelled to stop. Having encountered a car, half in a ditch, and seeing that there was someone inside. There was something about this man; when he opened his window and she saw his face. No, it was his eyes in particular. He felt good. Trustable. Being rather good looking certainly helped too. That he declined her offer of a lift in the first instance gave her some confidence as well, that she had not made a stupid mistake. ~ Ten minutes passed, as she wound her way along the lane. Looking out at the sheets of rain washing over the windscreen suddenly prompted her to think how wet she was, and how cold. She was sure that every inch of her was soaked to the skin. Despite turning the car heating up to full, she shuddered with a chill. ~ The movement caught the corner of his eye. 'You must be freezing,' he said. 'It's not that bad,' she replied. 'It's just this heavy humidity.' She glanced at him, taking her eyes off the road just for a moment, and saw him smile. He had a warm smile. 'Can you turn left just around the next corner here?' he asked. 'Yep.' 'Then my place is just at the end of a short track.' ~ She rounded the corner, slowing right down so as not to miss the turn. 'Just.....here,' he said. She turned into a single lane track and proceeded slowly uphill. Out of the gloom and into the car's headlights emerged a beautiful little cottage. Single storey, brick and timber frame, with a steep tiled roof. 'This is me,' he said. She pulled up the car, close to the little front door and switched on the interior light, leaving the engine running. 'There you go.' 'Thank you so much. I was reckoning on spending the night in my car, given this storm. Thank you.' He held out his hand. She accepted his hand shake and noted how warm he felt, as he firmly but gently clasped her hand. 'You're freezing,' he exclaimed with concern. 'How much further are you going?' 'Oh, it's probably only an hour or so. I'll be alright.' 'An hour? You'll catch your death. Do you want to come in and dry off?' 'No, no, I should get going,' she replied. A large drop of water ran down her forehead and dropped from her eyebrow, down to her cheek. 'You are literally dripping,' he said. 'I will feel terrible if I let you go on like this, having rescued me. The least I can do is provide you with a towel.' She looked into his eyes. 'I'll boost the heating and light the fire. The cottage warms up quickly. Please.' ~ She considered him. There was something about him that conveyed a sense of trust. When he had held her hand, she had felt such a sense of warmth and kindness, that her normal sense of cautiousness evaporated. ~ 'Okay, I'll just pop in quickly.' 'Good, wait here a sec, whilst I get the door open.' With that, he jumped out of the car and into the rain. He ran to the door, fumbled in his bag for a second, before producing some keys and throwing the door wide open. Crouched over, he ran back to the car, opened the driver side door and held out his hand. She looked again, at that innocent hand. A gentleman, she thought, as she reached out and took it, using it for support as she climbed out of the car. He held on to her hand and whisked her towards the house. The two of them ran in through the door. He let her go only to enable him to turn and slam the door shut against the weather. 'Thank goodness we're out of that,' he said as he lifted one foot to reach and untie the laces of his shoe. Guiltily she realised she was several steps inside and had left a trail of very wet footsteps on the wooden floor. 'Oh your floor.' She bent down and tugged her boots off. 'Never mind the floor,' he replied. 'Anyway, your socks look as wet as your boots.' She looked down and saw that she had made just as wet footprints with her socks as her boots had made. 'You really are soaked through and through aren't you,' he said. 'Come here to the bathroom. There are towels above the radiator. They'll be nice and warm.' She followed him into the cottage, trying in vain to minimise the damp footprints she was leaving in her wake. He flicked on the bathroom light and pointed in at the hanging towels. 'Look, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but why don't you have a shower. I can find you some clothes. Yours will never dry with just a towel and a shower will warm you back up like nothing else. There's a lock on the door.' ~ Damn, he thought, that last comment was stupid. Like a lock on the door is going to make her feel any more confident about stripping off in a strangers house. ~ 'Well, you can if you want. I could go and make you a hot drink too?' She looked at the situation. If a girl friend of hers were recounting this, she would be shouting madness to be in a strangers house taking showers; but there was something about this guy. Apart from finding him quite cute, he felt so totally unthreatening. The realisation that she was actually trying to stop her teeth chattering concluded her decision. ~ 'Thank you. If you don't mind?' she asked. 'Not at all. Help yourself to anything. Shampoo on the shelf there, look, and so on. Use as many towels as you like. Do you need anything else?' he asked. 'Just someone to wash my back' she quipped. ~ What the hell did she say that for, she thought. What a stupid implication to make. ~ She froze, looking at him for his response. 'Ah.....I.....uh,' he floundered. 'You control the water temperature with the dial there,' he pointed out, completely stating the obvious. ~ Was that a hint of colour in his cheeks, she thought. Is he blushing? ~ She silently let out the breath she was holding. 'Thank you,' she said quietly. 'I'll leave you to it,' he replied as he quickly made his exit, closing the door behind him. ~ As the latch clicked, he stood for a moment and thought; had she seen him blushing? Having seen her now in good indoor light he realised just how attractive she was. Her seemingly offhand comment had instantly conjured a rather erotic image in his minds eye. Had she meant anything by it? She must have been joking, he concluded as he made his way to the bedroom to change out of his own damp clothes. ~ In the bathroom, it took only a moment before she heard his footsteps recede into the house. She carefully, slowly slid the bolt, to quietly lock the door. She reached in to the cubicle, turned on the shower and immediately felt the inviting heat of the water. She began removing her sodden clothes. Her jumper felt like it was ten times heavier than normal, with all the water in it, as she hauled it up and over her head. She dropped it down to the floor with a wet splat. She repeated the manoeuvre with her top; peeling it up and away from her torso, as it did it's best to cling to her body. She had not bothered with a bra that day, as usual, so she set to work on her jeans. These were much harder, with the thicker material seemingly suctioned to her legs by the moisture. She completely inverted them as she peeled them down her legs to her ankles. The final tugging removed both jeans and socks as one. She keenly felt the goose pimples popping up all over her cold, clammy body. Her knickers rolled themselves into a knot as she worked them down her legs. Finally she stepped under the luscious hot water of the shower and felt the warmth penetrate her. ~ She felt like she could stay in there for hours, so much did she enjoy the warmth flowing across her body. But thinking her mystery gentleman was probably sat waiting for her to emerge, she reluctantly stepped out and dried herself with a towel. ~ Then she realised her predicament. Her clothes were sat in a puddle on the floor. She had nothing dry to put on. 'Bugger,' she uttered. She set about untangling her knickers and tugging them back up her legs. They felt horrible. Damp, cold and unpleasantly clinging to her skin. Then the jeans, but to no avail. They were so tight and clammy she could not drag them back onto her legs, no matter how hard she pulled. 'Bugger, bugger, bugger,' she cursed quietly. She stood shifting her weight from leg to leg for a full five minutes, as she blankly considered her situation. She decided there was no choice. She rolled the knickers back off, dried herself again, wrapped a towel around herself and slid back the door bolt. ~ She eased the door open a crack and peeked out. He was not to be seen. Slowly she padded out of the bathroom, holding the top of the towel with both hands, tightly around her chest. She moved around a corner and spotted him in the kitchen. He was cooking. She found this comforting. ~ He looked up and saw her. Wrapped in a towel; the top of which was bound under her arms and held firmly into her breasts, making them bulge slightly upwards into two curved domes. The lower edge of the towel hung what must have been just a few inches below her bottom, leaving almost the full length of her legs exposed. His breath caught in his throat. She looked incredible. ~ He realised he was staring. 'Sorry,' he cast his eyes down to the chopping board in front of him. 'I said I was going to get you some dry clothes.' He looked back up at her and ensured his eyes stayed on her eyes, and nothing else this time. 'Though thinking about it, I have no idea what. Why don't you go through to my room yourself and pick something. It's back the way you came, round to the left. The door opposite the bathroom. There's stuff in the wardrobe and the drawers. Rummage about until you find something.' 'Oh, are you sure?' she asked. 'I don't want to.....' 'Yes, yes, go for it.' She smiled her thanks and turned to follow his directions. ~ He considered his options. Back to cooking. Or watch her go, and risk her looking over her shoulder and catching him. He took the gamble. His eyes rolled up and down her body as she walked away. Her bottom wiggled enchantingly. With the motion of her hips he could just make out each cheek rolling up and down beneath the towel. It was a magnificent view, and he got away with it. ~ She found the bedroom easily enough and wondered at the generous trust he had shown her. She was surprised at being granted free reign of his bedroom and clothes. Although she quickly realised she was still in a bit of a fix. What could she find to wear here amongst mens clothes? It confirmed to her at least that he lived alone. Clothing for one is all that was present. She tentatively looked through the wardrobe and the drawers. What to pick? Particularly on the question of underwear. She found a drawer that included boxer shorts, but these would have been like clown trousers on her significantly more slender frame than his. Likewise would be his trousers. She settled on the largest shirt she could find. Buttoning it all the way down and rolling up the sleeves made it into a dress of sorts. Admittedly a rather short one. Though considering the length of the towel, she would not be flashing any more leg than he had already seen. And she knew he had definitely 'seen', as she recalled his eyes roving up and down when she had first stepped into the kitchen doorway. But then, part of her really quite liked that her appearance had clearly made an impression on him. Besides flashing her legs, it was flashing anything else that was more her concern, considering she was about to go back without a shred of underwear beneath the shirt. ~ As she made her way back towards the kitchen, she took in more details of the cottage. It was small, cosy, and felt comfortable. He had lit the fire in the living room, which caste a wonderful glow. She was comfortably warm, despite wearing only the shirt. There were lots of book shelves, filled with what looks like a whole assortment of topics. The wall space that was left contained some interesting pictures that she would have liked to have a closer look at. Something else caught her attention. The smell of cooking. Her tummy rumbled and she realised how hungry she was. It must have been about seven thirty, and she had had an early lunch too. ~ Back in the kitchen doorway, she said, 'I hope I'm okay in this?' He looked up and took in the view. Momentarily considering his response, he settled on, 'more than okay. That shirt has never looked so good on me.' He combined it with what he hoped was a lighthearted smile. ~ She dropped her head downwards, feeling like she must have turned scarlet red. His smile has a profound affect on her. ~ 'Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you,' he said. She looked back up, smiling slightly and uncontrollably locking eyes with his. The time seemed to stretch as they gazed at each other. Neither wanting to break the connection. ~ 'Would you like dinner?' he asked eventually. 'Yes,' she replied impulsively. 'I thought you might be hungry, given the time. And the storm is still hammering out there. You don't want to go back out just yet. I hope you like carbonara?' 'Yes.' 'Oh good. The old faithful. Sit down,' he gestured to the kitchen table. 'I'll dish up.' She moved to sit and was suddenly very conscious of the nakedness of her bottom as it made contact with the wooden chair. She was grateful that she could tuck herself in close to the table, hiding her lower half beneath it's solidness. ~ He laid out cutlery and glasses. Then placed a bottle of white wine and a jug of water on the table. 'Help yourself,' he stated. She appreciated him leaving her with the choice. She filled a tumbler with water and poured a small measure of the Chardonnay into a wine glass. He placed a plate of food for each of them onto the table and sat down. Looking across at each other, they each broke into shy smiles. 'Well I wasn't expecting this evening,' she interrupted the pause. 'I hope it's edible,' he said, as he picked up his fork. She curled a twist of pasta onto her fork and blew on it gently, before popping it into her mouth. It was delicious. 'Mmmm,' she said as she chewed. 'It's more than just edible,' she said after swallowing. 'Oh good. I was going to go for a five course gourmet experience of course, but I figured the pressure of having company would inevitably lead to me stuffing it up,' he said. She smiled and replied, 'I'm very happy with this. Carbonara is one of my favourites. And this one is very good.' 'Oh good. A lucky guess there.' They both enjoyed their meal for several minutes, with only the muffled sound of rain and wind outside, and the odd crackle from the fire in the living room. 'So what were you painting?' he asked. 'Sorry?' she replied. 'I just remembered that you said, in the car, you were painting before the storm came in.' 'Oh. I was painting a scene looking down on the harbour and the cliffs around the village.' 'Oh nice. It is a beautiful village. Do you live nearby?' 'No, no. I have a flat in London. I'm in a holiday cottage.' 'Oh, you're on holiday? Your accent is not local, but lots of people move here.' 'Not on holiday. Technically. Although it sort of is! I paint for a living. I'm here for inspiration.' 'Wow, I'm in the company of an artist.' 'Well, only a mediocre one,' she replied. 'Your accent is not local either. How do you come to be here?' 'I came here on holiday several years ago. Saw this house. Fell in love and that was that. I can do my work from anywhere really, so I moved here. I was in London before too.' 'What do you do?' 'I'm a writer.' 'Well I'm in the company of an artist too then,' she said and smiled. 'Oh well, I guess I don't really think of it like that!' 'What do you write?' 'Textbooks.' 'Ah.' She raised her eyebrows. 'I know, it sounds terribly dull doesn't it?' 'No, no. You must be very clever then,' she said slyly. He smiled ruefully. 'Not really. I'm more like a translator really. I read up on a subject, written by people who actually know what they're talking about. Then I translate into a language that is understandable for kids.' 'Oh what ages?' 'Mostly secondary school, but a bit either side too.' 'Hence you have a lot of books.' 'Hence I have a lot of books,' he said as he refills his wine glass, and hovers the bottle above her glass. 'I read a secondary school textbook last year I think. Yes please. About philosophy. Needed an introduction.' 'Oh really. What made you approach that subject?' Art in Reality Ch. 01-02 'Oh I don't know really. I thought it might add another dimension to my work. I can't quite remember what it was called. A philosophical look, or something.' 'A philosophical outlook?' 'Yes! That was it. You've read it?' 'You're winding me up?' he said smiling. 'Sorry?' 'I wrote it.' 'No. You're kidding?' 'Feels like a long time ago now. It was a turning point really. I landed my first decent long term publishing deal on the back of that book.' 'I went into the book shop and asked for the best selling book on philosophy for beginners, and that's what I got.' After a pause she said, 'oh, how embarrassing,' and laughed. 'What?' 'I've just realised I can't remember the author's name.' 'Oh goodness, how rude of me,' he laughed too. 'I'm Peter. Peter Mansford.' 'Katherine Connell. Pleased to make your acquaintance.' 'Katherine.' 'Katie, please, to my friends.' 'Katie,' he said and beamed a smile. ~ As he continued eating, he considered this extraordinary turn of events. From cursing at length at ending up stuck in a ditch, to having this incredible woman turn up from nowhere and now sharing dinner with him in his kitchen. There is something so incredibly attractive about her. Apart from the obvious sexual appeal of her appearance, she seems to have a sort of innocent magnetism about her. Unlike all other women he had ever taken an interest in, he found her very easy to talk to. She seemed very unjudgemental. Whatever happens, he thought, don't fuck this up. Before she leaves, get her number. ~ They both finished their meals at just about the same time. 'That was delicious,' she said. 'Thank you very much.' 'My pleasure,' he replied. 'This might seem a rather silly question, given your recent chilly situation, but do you like ice cream?' 'I do,' she smiled with surprise. 'I have some rather splendid peach and apricot in the freezer. I always think carbonara should be followed with something cool and refreshing. Would you like some?' 'Yes, that would be great. Though I warn you, once I get started on a tub, I may not stop,' she grinned. 'Not a problem, it's local. There's plenty more in the village shop.' 'Oh shi.....sugar, I mean.' 'What's the matter?' 'I left my clothes in a heap on the floor, in the bathroom.' 'Oh, spread them out on the towel rail in there, they'll soon dry. Why don't you do that whilst I chuck this stuff on the sink, then go and make yourself comfy on the sofa. I'll bring you the ice cream and the fire will keep the cold at bay. There's a blanket hanging on the back of it too.' 'Deal,' she said, carefully smoothing the shirt down as she stood up from the chair. Just before she got to the kitchen door she turned and said, 'thank you.' 'For what?' 'For, erm, sharing this. Your house is lovely.' 'The least I can do for my rescuer,' he replied and bowed slightly. She smiled and turned, heading back to the bathroom. ~ She found her clothes in a small puddle on the floor. Picking them up one by one, she did her best to wring the water out of each item, into the bath, before spreading them out on the towel rails above the radiator. She wondered how long they would take to dry. It must have been past eight, though she felt disinclined to leave any time soon. Peter was very pleasant company. He was so unassuming. Quietly charming, and easy on the eye too. ~ She wandered slowly into the living room, taking in more details of the cottage as she went. It felt as endearing as the man who lived in it. Full of an assortment of things but without feeling cluttered. The sounds of dishes clattering died down, so she headed for the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace. As it turned out she was very thankful for the blanket. Not because she was cold; as promised, the heating was on and along with the fire, she was plenty warm enough. The sofa, though very comfy, made the shirt ride up her legs an alarming amount as she sank into it. She used the blanket as an essential shield for her modesty; draping across her tummy and legs. Peter entered carrying two bowls. 'Here you are. See what you think of this,' he said as he handed her a bowl, followed by a spoon from his shirt pocket. She slid the spoon through the soft creaminess and then passed it between her lips. 'Oh god that's good,' she exclaimed. 'Isn't it?' he said as he sank down onto the other end of the sofa. 'You have to tell me your source,' she said as she scooped up a large spoonful. 'I can't do that. I have to have something to coax you back some day.' She caught his eye before quickly looking down to study the contents of the bowl. 'Sorry, I'm...I just meant...' She looked back up at him and her smile shone radiantly. 'So what other topics have you written books about?' she asked, and their conversation began. ~ They talked and talked. Oblivious to time. The storm continued to batter the outside of the cottage, but inside it was warm and tranquil. They discussed everything and anything, discovering the many shared views they held. Many hours later they settled into companionable silence and sat gazing into the fire. ~ Chapter Two ~ He woke to an unfamiliar sensation. A weight was pressing down on him. He opened his eyes to a tangled mass of hair. Looking about he realised he was on the sofa in the living room. The light of dawn was shining in through the windows. Katie was stretched out along his side, half on top of him. He had no idea how they had ended up like this. His last memory was of them sitting side by side. He wondered if she had deliberately snuggled up to him like this; or had they both nodded off and slid into this position in their sleep? His arms were wrapped around her, one pressed down beneath her and the other laid across his chest to reach her. She felt wonderfully warm; her body against his. One of his hands was resting on the cotton of the borrowed shirt; the other, it occurred to him, was resting on something much softer. He carefully lifted his head up and looked down along the length of her body. Her shirt had ridden up around her waist, affording him a view of her perfect, naked, peach of a bottom. It was one of her firm curved cheeks that his hand was resting on. His morning stiffness instantly strained harder against his jeans. Now what was he to do. If he moved he felt sure to wake her. But then, he did not want to move anyway. It was wonderful to be holding her so close. They had talked so easily and freely last night. His affection for her had grown intensely as the evening moved late into the night. ~ She opened her eyes, then slid her head across his chest to look up at him. He felt her body tense slightly, and then relax again. 'Erm,' she whispered, 'good morning.' 'Good morning,' he whispered back. 'I appear to have fallen asleep on you.' He stifled a laugh. 'Indeed. And I appear to have taken liberties in my sleep. I do apologise.' She frowned, not understanding his meaning. He gave her bottom a slight squeeze. 'Oh. Well, these things happen I suppose,' she said sleepily, as her lips curved into a soft smile. 'Do you want to get up?' he asked and lifted his hand away. 'Hmmm, not yet.' He gently lowered his hand back onto her bottom, whilst thinking how grateful he was that she was lying to one side of him. He felt sure his erection was pushing so hard at his jeans now, if she had been fully on top she would have known all about it. 'I enjoyed last night,' she said. 'I can't believe we have so much in common.' 'And now it appears we are both susceptible to falling asleep unnoticed. Unless I went first did I?' 'No, I don't remember you nodding off. And for your information, by the way, I don't commonly sleep with men I have only just met.' 'Of course...I didn't think...erm...did you...' he floundered. 'I'm winding you up,' she giggled, a little more awake now. 'Though I had perhaps better get up and make myself decent.' He raised his hands, freeing her to roll up into a sitting position; one hand tugging her shirt down whilst the other brushed across her head, pushing her hair back away from her eyes. She stood and turned towards the light. 'Holy shit,' she exclaimed. 'What?' he lurched up. 'You never told me you had that.' 'What?' he said, stumbling to his feet. 'That,' she said as she walked, trance like towards the light. One full side of the living room was made up of very large windows, affording a panoramic view out over the hills, the cliffs and the sea. Completely hidden the previous evening by the fading sun and the intensity of the storm, the sky was now completely clear and the dawn light was playing across the landscape. 'I have to catch this,' she said, running across the room to the front door. 'Argh, my boots are soaking.' 'My wellies are by the door,' he offered, bemused by her urgency, but finding her excited energy profoundly attractive. She turned, found them, and was completely oblivious of the shirt riding high up her bottom as she bent over to pull them on. It offered him a spectacularly erotic view of her rear, which he shamelessly devoured. She flung the door open and ran out towards her car, oversized wellingtons flapping against her calves as she went. Moments later she jumped back inside, carrying a large, rugged looking canvas satchel and a long leather bag slung over her shoulders. 'Bugger it's cold out there,' she gasped. She saw his eyes flick down and back up. He could not help but notice her nipples had responded to the cold, as they pressed hard against the shirt. 'I guess I'm not really dressed for November,' she said, and smiled ruefully as she slipped out of the boots. 'Not really. Can I find you something more to wear?' he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, in hope of concealing the erection he felt sure she would notice. 'No it's plenty warm enough in here. I've got to catch this light,' she said hurrying across the room to the view through the windows. She dropped the satchel to the floor and started unclasping the leather bag, to reveal an easel. 'Sorry,' she said suddenly, looking round to him, 'thank you. Do you mind if I.....' She gestured at her stuff. 'Not at all,' he replied. 'Go right ahead.' She flashed a dazzling smile and continued with her work. Quickly, expertly she set up the easel and began pulling things from the satchel. A large pad of thick, high quality paper was secured to the painting frame, a roll of brushes got hung alongside. Next, a flat board and a wooden box of multicoloured tubes. Lastly a glass, which she filled with water from a bottle. She stood now in front of her apparatus; gathered her hair, twisting and pulling it to the back of her head, and then secured it in place with two brushes. Now she stood, unmoving. Gazing out the window. He realised he was staring at her and it occurred that she might be self conscious about having an audience. He decided to give her some privacy, so he crept, apparently unnoticed, away towards the kitchen. ~ Time had no meaning for her as she worked the paint. ~ Movement suddenly caught the corner of her eye. Peter was placing a small table next to her. It was furnished with a plate supporting a steaming croissant, a mug of fresh black coffee, a small jug of milk, a sugar bowl and a tall glass of apple juice. Keeping his eyes down he was slowly stepping backwards. She span around, slid her hands into his and pulled herself close. On tiptoes she planted a kiss on his cheek. 'Thank you,' she whispered. He was too surprised to say a word. She released his hands and turned back to her painting. ~ He sat at his desk, to one side of the room and read a sentence for the fourth time. At the end of it, his eyes glanced back up at her. He was supposed to be reading; conducting research for his next book. He could not keep his eyes off her for long. He admired the shapely flow of her bear legs, her graceful arms as they flitter across the page, her long smooth neck. Even the tangle of messy hair was somehow very alluring. He had converted to a sun worshipper; such was his gratitude for the effect it was having. As the morning light grew, it poured in through the windows, bathing her in a brilliant glow. It's power shone through the material of the shirt, enabling him to see a shadowy but quite clear outline of her naked body beneath the fabric. He felt pangs of guilt at his voyeuristic observation of her like that, but could not bring himself to alter the situation. Though he was enraptured by the raw sexuality of her physical appearance, there was much more to his obsession. He felt he could practically see an aura of energy shining from her. A passion of creativity and pleasure in her activity that guided her every movement. It was deeply, profoundly attractive. ~ Time passed. ~ She washed the brush out for the last time and stepped slightly back from the easel. Not bad, she thought. She looked round to see Peter sitting at his desk, his chin on one hand. 'Having you been watching me this whole time?' she asked. 'Yes.' 'Oh,' she said and felt a blush building. 'Well, what do you think?' She looked back at the painting. 'Stunning,' he said. 'Well, I don't know about that, it's not bad,' she looked back to him. 'The painting is brilliant, but I was talking about you.' Her cheeks blossomed red. 'Shut up,' she cast her eyes down and fiddled needlessly with a brush. She suddenly felt acutely nude beneath the loose fitting shirt; though she did not feel at all threatened. 'Are you hungry?' he asked. 'Oh yes,' she said, having long since finished the croissant between brush strokes. 'Let's walk down to the village and find some lunch shall we? It's a nice walk. Along the cliffs and down into the valley,' he suggested. 'Perfect.' 'Though I dare say you'll need a little more on than that. The breeze will be chilly.' This prompted a renewed rush of blood to her cheeks. 'I'll get dressed,' she said quickly as she scampered towards the bathroom. 'There should be a new toothbrush under the sink,' he said just before she left the room, 'if you need it.' She stopped. 'I mean...you might want...I'm not saying that...' She turned, planted her feet shoulder width apart, placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. 'You know...just that...I'm sure you normally...I'm not implying that...that your breath...I just thought,' his hands floundered through the air. 'I'll shut up now.' She burst into laughter and span on her heel. 'I'll get you for that,' he called after her. ~ She emerged a few minutes later, in her jeans and jumper, and carrying her boots, which he had moved next to the radiator to dry earlier. 'I hope you don't mind, I've kept your shirt. I thought I could do with the extra layer against the breeze,' she said as she moved towards him, standing ready by the door. 'Not at all. As I said, it's never looked as good on me,' he said, smiling slyly. 'Stop it,' she said and playfully shoved his shoulder. 'Come on, we have a lunch date to get to,' he smiled and held out his hand. She held it to steady herself whilst she pulled on her boots. She did not let it go as they both stepped out the door. ~ They walked hand in hand out across the fields and along the cliff top. The breeze was cold but not too strong. The sun was bright and crisp. They made their way along the cliff path down towards the little harbour village. It was breathtakingly picturesque. They wandered through the narrow streets and settled on a charming old pub on the waterfront for lunch. They ate their fill of delicious fish, fresh from the sea that morning. Their conversation was easy. They ambled through topics in much the same way as they had the evening before. Learning about each other, discovering their shared attitudes and values. Their bond grew stronger with each passing minute. After lunch they strolled around the village; window shopping around the few touristy craft shops and nosily peeking through the windows of beautiful little cottages as they passed by. As late afternoon approached, they decide to head back up to the cottage, wanting to make the walk back before it started getting dark. They make their way up the valley to the cliff top path, then took a seat on a bench at the top to catch their breath. ~ 'It's beautiful here,' Katie said as they both gazed out to sea. 'It is. I never tire of it,' Peter replied. They sat a while longer, in companionable silence, enjoying the sights, the sounds and the smell of the air. 'I should leave you in peace,' she said quietly. 'I've kept you from your research.' 'I don't want to be left in peace,' he replied quickly, turning to her and placing a hand on her thigh. 'You don't mind me hanging around, distracting you a little longer?' she asked, suddenly scared of the answer. 'You're the best kind of distraction.' She smiled, placed a hand on top of his and rested her head sideways onto his shoulder. ~ They sat as the sun moved slowly towards the horizon. ~ 'It's going to get very cold with the sun gone' he stated. 'No it's not,' she said gripping his hand, holding it against her leg. 'I can feel you shivering slightly already.' 'Then you will have to invite me in again,' she said and looked up. He gazed into her eyes. Their faces were inches apart. 'Please come in, so I can warm you up?' he asked. She leant forwards. Their lips met with the lightest and briefest touch. They looked at each other for a few moments before both breaking into smiles and then giggles. 'Come on then,' he said, standing and gently pulling her up to her feet. He took a step towards the path. She pulled him back fiercely towards her, stretched up and kissed him deeply. Their lips push hard against each other and they both wrapped their arms around, pulling their bodies close. Suddenly she ran a hand down his back and slipped it into his jeans, inside his underwear, to grab one of his buttocks. The surprise made him pull away from their kiss with shock. 'I'm just playing catch up,' she purred. 'You've already had your hand on mine.' 'Oh. I see,' he said and pulled her in closer for another kiss. ~ 'We should get back before it gets too dark,' he said. 'I don't want to lose you.' 'You had better keep a good hold of me then,' she replied as she slipped her hand out from within his clothes and took hold of his hand. They strolled the last length of the path back to the cottage. ~ Inside was warm. They each stripped off their boots and jumpers. He noticed that she was indeed wearing his shirt over her own top and smiled at the morning memories. 'What?' she asked. 'Just thinking about you,' he replied. 'Charmer,' she pouted. They stood by the door. The only awkward silence of the day so far. 'Will you show me what you're researching?' she broke the tension. 'Yes of course,' he un-froze and headed towards his desk. 'Go and park yourself on the sofa. I'll bring you the book plan.' 'Book plan? Aren't you the organised one,' she mocked with a mischievous smile. 'Got to be. It's aimed at secondary school level, so it's got to tick the right boxes for the curriculum.' 'Oh, of course. I'm glad I don't have to paint by tick box.' 'Actually the structure can be quite useful. I at least don't have to think up what to write about.' He sank onto the sofa, as close to her as he could politely manage. The book plan raised a whole new range of topics for discussion. They sat happily in each other's company. ~ 'I'm peckish again' he said. 'How are you doing?' Art in Reality Ch. 01-02 'I could eat. I guess it's getting quite late. No doubt you'll want to send me on my way soon?' 'Certainly not until after you've eaten pancakes?' he said with a questioning look. 'Hell yes. How do you just know what I want to eat?' 'I think what I'd want to eat,' he replied as he stood and wandered towards the kitchen. 'Stay put, it won't take long.' ~ She strolled around the room, taking a closer look at the artwork on the walls and leafing through a few of the many books lining the shelves. 'Sugar and lemon, Katie?' he shouted from the kitchen. 'Yes please,' she called back. As she meandered about, she wondered what was going to come next. It felt like life was on pause. She had never felt so comfortable in someone's company and could scarcely believe it had only been about twenty four hours since she first laid eyes on him. She felt a deep connection. He was such a gentleman, but she knew he was interested in her. She had felt his physical arousal pressing against her as they had kissed. She decided that if the opportunity presented itself to go further, she would take it. At that moment he walked into the room carrying a tray. 'In here or at the kitchen table?' he asked. 'In here,' she answered and returned to the sofa. He nudged a switch to put some music on and sat down with the tray of pancakes. 'Mmmm, these are good,' she spoke through her first mouthful. 'It's the secret ingredient I use.' 'Oh yes?' 'I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you,' he said archly. 'Share your secret and I'll make it worth your while,' she smiled coyly and fluttered her eyelashes. 'Coconut oil. Fry them in coconut oil,' he mumbled quickly. 'Ah, that's what it is. I couldn't put my finger on it.' ~ When they had finished eating, Peter stretched his arms back and groaned slightly as he rolled his head from side to side. 'You alright?' she asked. 'Yes, fine. Just a slight crick in my neck. I think I slept funny.' 'Not as funny as I slept,' she said with a cheeky grin. 'You need a shower. Warm water will help.' 'It'll be fine,' he said, sinking back into the sofa. 'Go and have a shower.' He looked at her quizzically for a moment, then obeyed without comment. ~ As he dried himself off in the bathroom, he considered his options. Put his clothes back on? Or something else? He really liked Katie and was enthusiastic to move their relationship on, but he did not want to blow it by pushing too far too soon. Though it felt much longer, it had only been a day. Their kiss by the bench had been remarkably erotic though. He was sure she was interested in him, in more than just a friendly way. ~ He made up his mind. He wrapped just a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. Depending on her reaction, he could claim to be on his way to get more comfy clothes, if he needed to. He hoped she would appreciate the parody of the situation the evening before. Stepping into the living room, he cast his eyes about, looking for her to no avail. 'I'm in here,' he heard her call from the bedroom. Suddenly shyness raced to the fore. He hesitated for a long moment before slowly creeping onwards. ~ She watched him enter the room cautiously. She stopped breathing as he came into sight. He was good looking. Not overly bulky with muscles, but well toned. Fit from plenty of long walks over rough countryside. From her earlier exploration she vividly recalled his tight bum. 'Come and lie down on your tummy,' she said softly, gesturing to the bed, which she had stripped of covers. He did not move. 'I won't bite,' she flashed a smile. 'I'm going to massage your neck better.' A small smile broke on his lips and he moved to the bed to lie down. He was on his front, with the towel still wrapped about his waist, and was surprised as she quickly jumped onto the bed and straddled him. Her thighs gripped his torso as her bottom hovered above his lower back. Her hands started rubbing his neck and shoulders. They were warm and glided easily across his skin like silk. 'Coconut oil is good for more than just frying pancakes,' she said quietly. He relaxed under her as she worked her magic; using her body weight, she pressed deeply to massage his muscles. Gradually she expanded her attention from his neck to his whole back, sliding her hands up and down his torso. ~ He lost all track of time and space, focusing solely on the intense physical contact and sense of her presence. ~ He felt the mattress shift slightly and her hands float away from him. He turned and lifted his head slightly to see her standing at the foot of the bed. 'Roll over,' she said plainly. He obeyed and was lying on his back, with head and shoulders propped up slightly on pillows, before realising his situation. ~ Her eyes met his, then slowly drifted down, past his lips, down his neck, across his chest, then abdomen, down to where the towel rested across his middle. A pronounced outline was cast where his erect penis lifted the towel like a tent above his hips, before falling again to define each of his legs. A small smile teased across her lips. 'Well I seem to have succeeded in removing the stiffness from your neck, only for it to pop up somewhere else.' She bent low and reached out. Her movement allowed him a brief glimpse down beneath the material of her top. His eyes penetrated the darkness beneath the fabric just far enough to catch a glimpse of the two inner curves of her breasts. She grasped the towel with both hands and slowly stood straight, drawing the cover down across his body; exposing him. ~ His penis pulsed slightly, in time with the beating of his heart. His balls slowly rolled and draw in closer to his torso as they respond to the cool air now flowing across his body. Dropping the towel to the floor she stood and looked. As she tried to take in the full vista, each sweep of her eyes stalled momentarily, lingering at the focal point of his masculine body. The prominent, bold, shaft of his erection. ~ She considered, and decided. Her eyes met his and she raised her hands to the top button of her shirt. She began. Her fingers danced, pushing inwards between her breasts and then down across the flat plain of her abdomen, releasing each button until the shirt hung loose. Beneath the shirt was a thin layer of cream cotton, wrapped tight around her skin. Her hands returned to the collar of the shirt and she parted the curtains. The material resisted, clinging desperately to the inner cotton covering each smooth breast, all the way until it reached the outer curves, where it relinquished its hold and flicked suddenly across her shoulders. Her fingers, hands and arms relaxed and the shirt crumpled onto the floor. ~ His eyes did not brake their contact with hers, until they were tricked by the sudden movement of her tugging the strap of her belt. The metal clasp was withdrawn from the hole in the soft leather and released its grip on her hips. She pulled the buckle outwards, away from her naval, drawing the full length of the belt free of her jeans. It dangled momentarily, before she flicked it forward, to land on the bed. ~ Her exquisite fingers set to work again, pulling firmly, against the resistance of the denim, popping each button down the front of her jeans. Her hands cast a shadow across the rent in the material, denying observation of what lay beneath. In an instant, she turned on the spot. A smooth motion of each arm revealed the task of her thumbs. Each one was hooked into the band of her jeans, as they circled her waist, drawing the denim away from her hips. They paused, at the nape of back. Her head turned slowly, profiling her face and allowing her eyes a sidelong look at her man. He was transfixed by the denim hugging her body. She remained still. ~ He could bear it no longer, his eyes snapped up to meet hers. In that instant she moved, drawing her hands, thumbs still hooked in the waistband of her jeans, down across her buttocks. His eyes flicked back down, watching the slow revealing of her bottom. ~ Each cheek was enclosed in ribbed cotton. The lowering of the denim continued, the cotton edges of her underwear drew closer, converging towards the centre line of her bum. Revealing skin. Smooth, soft skin. The curve of each cheek passed the crease, where buttock becomes thigh. The seat of her jeans passed the curve of her bottom and then hung from her thumbs, which hung in turn at the end of her extended arms. ~ A momentary pause. ~ Her back began to arch forward. Rolling her torso away. Lowering her arms, lowering her jeans, revealing her legs as her bottom rose, tightened and curved. Her head, her shoulders, her torso disappeared from his sight. Leaving two columns of smooth skin, topped by a peach of perfect flesh. His mind recalled the feeling of his hand wrapped around that perfect bottom from earlier that morning. ~ She languished there. Hanging, relaxed, from the sturdy columns of her legs. She rocked gently, shifting her centre of balance from foot to foot. She raised and lowered her shoulders, loosening and relaxing the muscles in her neck, shoulder blades and back. ~ He noticed the tightening of tendons and the shift of her hips as she started to roll back up to standing. Her vest had crept up her torso, revealing two concave dimples in the curve of her back, above her bottom, forming a perfect counterpoint to the prominent jutting angles of her shoulder blades. ~ She stepped out of her jeans, turning to face him as she did. Her eyes reacquainted themselves with the details of his anatomy. He lay there, having not moved a muscle. The only change being his penis, which was now bigger and more rigid than before. The added length had caused the foreskin to pull back slightly; stretched taught around the bulbous head of his cock, allowing a glimpse of the smooth, dark red structure beneath. ~ As her eyes savoured the anticipation of what was to come, she felt her emotions made manifest in her body. Her heart rate increased, blood rushed to her skin, colouring her face and chest with a hot glow. She felt her nipples tighten and begin to strain against the fabric of her vest. Between her legs, a warmth spread outwards from the depths of her femininity. She could feel the course touch of the hitherto soft cotton of her underwear pushing, pressing, resisting the blossoming outer petals of her flower. ~ She hooked her thumbs into the gap between her knickers and tummy, formed by her protruding hip bones. Without ceremony she slipped the underwear down, revealing the short curls of hair covering her pubis. Each hand swiftly circled her panties and pulled them over her buttocks, and allowed them to free fall, down her legs, to the floor. ~ Looking down upon his naked form she prepared for the final stage of her unwrapping. Crossing her hands, she lightly clasped the lower edge of her vest. The slow rise of her arms began to peel the tight fabric away from her body. Her neat oval tummy button was the only punctuation in her otherwise smooth lower abdomen. To each side, the ridges betraying the structural core muscles of her torso, guided his eyes upwards as they tracked the rolling material. The fabric gathered, folding up like a concertina below her breasts. Her hands continued their slow ascent. The material was dragged upwards, first compressing, then lifting the yielding softness of her bosoms. As the lower curve of each breast became visible, he held his breath in anticipation. Each erect nipple burst free of the cotton, signaling a shift of pressure that allowed her breasts to drop slightly, bouncing back to their natural resting place. ~ The last scrap of her material covering was at the level of her eyes, entangling her arms and blinding her sight. She paused. All but naked. Savouring the sensation of vulnerability. Her posture, her body, open, undefended, being observed. ~ Finally she extended her arms, fulling stretching, lengthening her entire body. Head upturned, her lips were pulled slightly apart. The last of her hair slipped from the grasping cotton and she was free of clothes. ~ He breathed again. His chest expanded and contracted and his heart thundered within. They gazed at each other for several long moments. Then she moved. ~ She reached forward and placed her hands on his shins, feeling the soft short hair that covers his legs. Her hands rolled inwards towards his inner calves and then glided upwards towards his knees. When she reached the midpoint of his legs, she pushed outwards as well us upwards, spreading his legs wider, giving her space to move between them. Her hands then caressed his inner thighs, moving slowly upwards towards his groin. His balls tightened in anticipation of the touch that was about to come. ~ But contact was not made. With the palms of her hands flat on his inner thighs she extended each thumb and glided them both symmetrically up; up across his perineum, up to where the skin of his sack met his torso. The thumbs then parted company and continued their journey, following the connecting line of scrotum and torso. Her hands followed, circling up and around, fingers pushing through the short curls of pubic hair, until they reach the flat field of muscle of his lower abdomen. Then outwards, across his hips and onto the bed, one on each side of his body. ~ She was kneeling between his legs. Her arms formed a triangular pyramid. Between them he could see her breasts, curving down below her torso. The lowest point of each, marked by a dark, protruding nipple. Her thighs were vertical, pushing her bottom slightly higher than her shoulders and affording him a view across the full length of her back. Her shoulder blades formed sharp symmetrical ridges. Between these, the indentation of her spine created a long flowing line, connecting her shoulders with the dimples on her lower back. At this point, her waist curved dramatically inwards to its narrowest point, before boldly sweeping back out to the full width of her hips. At the furthest distance across the valley, he saw the perfectly smooth arches of the top of her bottom. ~ His visual journey continued in his minds eye. He imagined the view from the foot of the bed. The dramatic sight of her bottom held high by the strong lines of muscle in her long legs. He imagined the exquisite path of her inner thighs as they rose up and met, forming a bell shaped crease in her skin where legs meet cheeks and torso. And in the centre of this convergence of flesh, boldly exposed, the blossoming petals of her womanhood. ~ She hovered above him. Her head was raised as she explored the features and emotions written upon his face. A small smile creased her lips and her eyes began to wander. Down across his chin and flowing along his neck. Down across his broad chest, taking in the lines of his collar bones. Down across his abdomen. Down and down to the hot erection below her. Looking straight down, she saw a small bead of juice had formed on the very tip of his penis. Squeezed out by the huge pressure, excitement and anticipation within. She lowered her head, extended her tongue and licked the salty droplet from off the end of his cock. He gasped at the sudden sensation. She raised her head back up and met his gaze. ~ She licked her lips. She lowered her head once more. ~ Extending and forming her tongue into a rigid point, she delicately glided it's warmth and wetness across the tiny slit at the top of his penis. She slowly circled, withdrawing quickly at each twitch of his member, to prevent any more extensive contact. She slid the tip of her tongue down from the slit, to one of the raised ridges on the underside of the head, before returning to the top and gliding down to the other ridge. She alternated between the two, before retracting her tongue to her mouth and resupplying it with moisture. When the point of her tongue reemerged it moved directly, purposefully, to the small triangle of skin on the underside of his erection. This small patch of skin was the connection point, the focal point, the most sensitive area of his penis. The tongue glided with the lightest of touches, up and down, up and down. He let out a deep gasp as his hips involuntarily rose with the sensation. She quickly moved her hands, pushing her body weight down onto his hips, pinning him in place. ~ Her eyes flicked up. She saw him watching. He was watching her licking his dick. ~ His chest shuddered erratically up and down, drawing tiny gasps of breath. She lowered her eyes back down to the focus of her activity. Her tongue softened, becoming a gentle pad of silky warmth, ready to explore the full length of his penis. She ran her tongue down the underside of his shaft, following the ridge down towards the base of the erection. Her tongue moved freely, slowly but continuously, guided by mindless instinct and whim. It undulated across every part of his erection, following the lines of veins, pressing firmly agains the shaft, rolling across the head, circling the foreskin and reaching around the base. ~ His eyes were closed. He relaxed. The tensions in his body slipped away as he enjoyed the rolling waves of sensation. ~ He realised that the movement had stopped. Opening his eyes he saw that she had raised herself, straightening her back, sitting on her knees between his legs. She was looking at him, smiling gently. He, suddenly shy, smiled back. She leant forward, arching over him, her nipples lightly brushed against his chest. She kissed his lips. She coiled back down the bed, on her hands and knees, between his legs. His eyes wandered again, rediscovering the sheer beauty of her form. She relaxed forward and laid a tender kiss in the tip of his penis. ~ A second kiss. This one lingered. Her lips were pursed together, resting on the top of his erection. ~ He began to feel her push. ~ She held her lips firmly together but pushed her head downwards. Gradually his penis pushed slowly into her mouth. Slowly, slowly her lips slid across the smooth, firm head of his cock. With a sudden pop, her lips passed the widest part and closed firmly around the top of his shaft. The bulbous end of his erection was held in her mouth. ~ He felt the warmth of her mouth seeping into him. She felt the twitches and pulses of his excitement. He felt her silky wet tongue pressing against his glans. She felt the firm smoothness of his skin. He looked into her eyes. She looked into his eyes. ~ One of her hands rose from the bed. She placed it on his chest, then slid it down across his skin, across his abdomen, across the short curls of his pubic hair. She wrapped the hand around his erection, grasping it, feeling its strength and bound energy. She slid the hand down his shaft, feeling its length. At the base of his penis, the hand opened and rolled down across his balls. The fingers danced lightly between each sphere, feeling their size, feeling their weight. She felt his penis strain against her mouth and watched his chest tighten as he drew ragged breaths. ~ The hand then floated up and away. Up towards her heart. Up to where it made contact with one breast. She cupped it, feeling its weight and its yielding, soft mass. She felt her erect nipple pushing into the palm of her hand. She rolled the hand around, grazing and teasing the tip of her nipple into a hard point of arousal. ~ The hand then slid along, down between each breast, down across the sternum of her rib cage, across her warm tummy. The fingers spread as they brushed through the short curls of hair over her pubic bone. The fingers slid between her legs and stroked the soft skin of her labia majoris to each side of her blossoming flower. Gradually the fingers closed in; gently exploring the delicate layers of skin surrounding her vagina. Her breathing deepened. Holding his penis in her mouth, she breathed through her nose, blowing gusts of air down across his shaft and tickling his pubic hair. As her fingers closed in on her vaginal opening they encountered the silky oil which was emerging from within. Wet now, the fingers glided smoothly across her skin.