It was amongst the advertisements for gifts for him and her, subscriptions to various exotic journals and unique things for the house and garden.
It leapt out of the page, grabbing my attention and I felt my heart flutter with excitement as I first scanned then carefully reread the item.
“A few Very Special People are to be Selected to Attend a Small Intimate Showing of the Work of Specially Selected Exponents of the Erotic in the Arts. If You have the Required Gifts of Empathy and Understanding coupled with a Sense of Adventure, then We will make You welcome.”
Then followed a box number with a promise that all replies would be acknowledged.
As a postgraduate student I was able to work at home while doing my research into the psychology of the paranormal.
Each day I waited anxiously for the mail to arrive
Each day I suffered the pangs of disappointment.
I was just about ready to give up any hope of a reply when finally a large white envelope was delivered. It contained a polite letter thanking me for my interest and inviting me to fill out and return the enclosed questionnaire. A stamped addressed envelope was included.
I felt a twinge of anger. This appeared to be just a clever way of doing some market research and I was about express my disappointment and put the lot into the wastebasket when I had an idea. Why not reply giving the most outrageous answers I could think of and then see what happened. After all it would be their fault if I helped screw up their survey. So sitting down at the table I prepared to do my worst.
The first question brought me up short. “How would you like to be described?” Intrigued, I read on, trying to see what the idea was behind the queries. Some of the questions were quite normal, age, gender, appearance and so on leading on to tastes in books, films and music. All obviously intended to create a fair profile of the subject.
Then in between were the ones that brought me up short, the intimate enquiries that intrigued and stimulated the senses.
“When making love, are you female, male or both?” and “How far and in which directions do you usually travel when experiencing a climax?”
What answers could I possibly give that would reveal the real me and how could I reply to questions that I did not understand? I made my mind a blank then answered each one with the first thing that came into my head. When I had finished I decided not to look over what I had written. Whatever impression I might have given them then so be it. I posted the reply and tried to get on with my life.
Here was I, a twenty four year old graduate engaged in serious research waiting every day with bated breath, my pulse racing whenever the postman arrived, grabbing my bundle of mail frantically searching for any envelope that might, just might be the communication that would put me out this misery of excited anticipation.
This was worse than when I fell head over heels in then out of love with my first boyfriend, and far more acute than my crush on the art mistress at school who had finally taken me to her bed and introduced me to the joys of my body.
I found myself constantly distracted as I tried to work. I gave up and went out, shopping, sightseeing, seeking the company of friends, anything to take my mind off the constant wondering as to what would happen next, or even if anything was going to happen at all. I think that was my worst nightmare, that I would be left for ever in this limbo of unknowing.
The only way I could find some relief was in meditation. It was a great surprise to me that in spite of everything, I could still enter that state of tranquillity.
But I could manage it only for a short while before disturbing images began to insinuate themselves into my brain, silent and unformed writhing patterns of colour and shape, totally abstract in form yet immensely powerful in their meaningless abstraction. There was an intense physical quality about them that left me damp, bewildered and frustrated.
Relief finally came in the form of the hoped for invitation to the viewing. There was a card on which was printed the time and the place, a very exclusive gallery in Bond Street, accompanied by a short letter and a brass key. The letter explained that those invited would have to let themselves in and the key was intended to ensure discretion and security for all concerned. On no account was it to be given to anyone else for the invitation was for me alone. The event was to take place in two days time on Friday, at eight in the evening.
Strangely enough from then on I felt calm. Something inside me became content at least for the moment, and I was able to concentrate on the ordinary concerns of everyday life. In fact, time just seemed to fly and then suddenly I had to get ready for my adventure.
I was undecided what to wear. I needed to make a good impression, but considering the nature of the exhibition I also wanted to be a bit daring and unconventional yet not too illegal bahis outrageous.
I was after all a sophisticated modern young woman who was in charge of her own life and tastes embarking on an adventure to broaden her experience and satisfy her curiosity. Yet there was a strong sexual undercurrent to my thoughts and I felt aroused as though I had been watching an explicit late night film and almost without thinking I selected my most daring lingerie. Dark brown, almost black, no more than patterned scraps of sheer lacy nonsense that held and moulded my breasts in a soft silky embrace together with matching panties, loose fitting at the leg but snug in between; they clung to me to intimately contain and pamper my hidden excitement.
A smart knee length black cocktail dress, backless with thin straps holding up a low cut bodice trimmed with black lace and worn underneath a severely cut matching jacket might I hoped convey the right message. Sheer dark stockings and black pumps completed the ensemble. I looked and felt good as I set out to discover what the event had to offer.
I walked through the Burlington Arcade into the street of high fashion and art, looking for the address. There in the dark recess of a shop front was the entrance, the open door leading to a narrow flight of stairs. The soft pink glow from the hallway above barely illuminated the luxurious carpet and there was no sound as I climbed to the first floor. Facing me was an ornate wooden door bearing the name of the gallery engraved in gold lettering. The door was closed.
I tried the key, in my excitement I could not insert it properly into the lock, but on the second attempt it fitted and opened the door.
I do not really know what I expected, but as I entered my attention was completely seized by the enormous canvas facing me. It stood on the floor in the middle of the room and the impression it made blotted out all other awareness. It was about seven or eight feet high and it portrayed a nude female figure of such beauty and power that I caught my breath in admiration.
She was a creature from a magical world, a thing of dark and awesome power, in the form of a woman. Yet not a woman, for no woman came adorned with dark wings, which in repose, stretched from her pale shoulders to the ground, the tips of the flight feathers resting alongside her perfectly formed feet.
Everything about her was perfect, from the lush midnight curtain cascading from her proud head down over the smooth white body, the intelligent yet severe features, the graceful curve of a neck arising from fine shoulders, the flat stomach with its coating of down, the island of dark pubic hair above that which promised exquisite fulfilment, all was revealed, truly a feast for the eye and the imagination. It was designed to grasp the attention and demand homage from all who saw.
But it was the eyes, dark melting lanterns of knowing that stealthily encompassed the soul to hold it hostage while the promise of sweet seduction hovered around the full sensual lips. I felt myself grow damp as I stared at the picture, my insides turning to butter as in my imagination…
The sound of someone else entering the room saved me from an embarrassing display of arousal and I quickly moved further into the gallery silently thanking whoever it was who had disturbed me. I drifted from painting to sculpture and on again to yet more painting. All were masterpieces of erotic art, superbly executed and evocative while depicting a range of passion and imagination that was stunning in its impact. And yet I could not get that female figure out of my mind, it was as though the canvas was calling to me and soon I found myself facing the figure once again.
This time I examined it closely, letting myself enjoy the power and sensuality of the subject. Suddenly somehow I knew what gave the picture its magic.
This was a real portrait not a fantasy. Unbelievable as it might seem, the artist, whoever he or she was, had captured the essence of a real being, someone they knew well. I looked for a signature and in the corner there it was in a small neat hand. Roz Field 1999 2Bnamed
”She has caught the expression very well don’t you think?’
The softly spoken man was standing next to me as he too admired the work.
‘It’s her down to the last detail.’
I stared at my companion as he spoke. This was impossible. Not only did he regard the picture as a true likeness of someone he knew, he could tell exactly what I was feeling and was prepared to discuss its deeper significance.
‘You said she, I’ve never heard of her, at least I don’t think I have, but surely she must have done other work. It’s so good and it’s very recent isn’t it?’
He chuckled. ‘She would be very flattered to hear you say so but in fact this is almost her only work so far as she has only recently turned her hand to painting.’
‘Look, you can meet her if you like, she’s about your age so I should think you and she would probably hit it off. Then you illegal bahis siteleri could ask her about the subject of the painting.’
I felt myself being taken in charge. This courteous man, impeccably dressed was, by his friendly charm, leading me into unfamiliar paths and I wanted to retain some feeling of control. I pulled back from him just a little.
‘What does 2Bnamed mean, can she not decide on a title for the work?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘No, not her, the subject cannot decide.’
He turned and began to walk away, but then he stopped and looked at me with a quizzical expression. ‘There is a photograph of the artist with a friend in that side gallery on your left. If you still want to meet her after you’ve seen it, just look around for me, I’m never far away.’
I went in the direction he had indicated and there was the photograph. It was a very clever construction for the picture was of two women standing in front of a full length mirror and it was enlarged to life size. The viewer looked from behind the subjects and saw only their reflection.
The camera had caught a very intimate moment between two lovers, there was no doubt about the look of adoration on the face of the younger, a fresh faced slim blonde whose long hair fell around her to the soft curves of her buttocks. The other older raven haired beauty, had captured both her companion’s hands in hers and was in the act of drawing her into a passionate embrace judging by the expression of sensual promise in her dark eyes. Her magnificent midnight locks cascaded around her naked body down to the floor, the white flesh of her full breasts and long smooth thighs partly hidden in the swaying cloud, soft and lustrous in the subtle lighting.
There was something very evocative in the expressions on the two faces. It was almost as though the younger girl yearned to be enmeshed in that exotic web, and her lover’s tresses seemed to be responding to her wish, almost reaching out as they prepared to capture her in some strange entanglement. An undertone of some dreadful hunger could be glimpsed in the way the dark beauty was drawing her victim into her grasp, and my pulse raced as I imagined myself in that demanding grip.
I wanted to be drawn into that dark cloud and so powerful was the message emanating from the picture that I could feel the delicate tingle of those fine tendrils caressing my face and neck as they closed around me, winding around my naked body, binding me into the hunger of their mistress. I was panting for breath, my hand working feverishly under my dress, my fingers bringing me to a shuddering peak as I swooned in the embrace of the dark haired woman in the photograph.
I must have fainted, for the next thing I remember was lying on a couch with a pillow under my head. Sitting beside me and holding my hand was the young girl whose place I had taken in my imagination, no longer naked but dressed in a green silk robe tied at the waist with a thick golden cord. Her pale hair was coiled up into an elegant bun on the top of her head.
Standing beside her was the man who had offered to introduce us.
‘I think you were a little overcome by the power of the picture. Don’t worry you will be fine in a moment. It might help if you drink this, it’s herbal tea and good for soothing the nerves.’
I took the cup from him a tried a mouthful. It was delicious and went down like silk and without thinking I held the cup up to my lips and drained it in one gulp.
He smiled. ‘That’s better Vikki and there’s plenty more where that came from. This is Roz by the way, you know, the painter. Anyway she will look after you while I go back to the other guests.’
I watched him leave the room then turned my head to Roz who was still holding my hand. She was smiling as she gently brushed a hair from my cheek. ‘So you found the photograph a bit overwhelming Vikki, you don’t mind if I call you that do you?’
I could only whisper ‘Yes I think I did and I don’t mind a bit.’ I felt safe and comfortable lying there, soothed by her smile and the gentle stroking of her thumb on my wrist. It was as though we had known each other all our lives and had just shared a great secret. But I needed to know that what I had felt was real.
‘When I looked at you in the picture, I felt that there was something, oh, it seems silly to say it but I wanted to be…’
She leaned forward and looked deep into my eyes. ‘Go on Vikki, say it, bring the thought to the front of your mind and enjoy your desire.’
Her warm breath on my face as she whispered to me sent a tingle down my spine and I found myself remembering the erotic image that had filled my brain as I stared into the picture.
There was a sudden flash of light in the room and I felt a moment of disorientation. The warm hands grasping my own drew me closer towards the welcoming body of my lover, I wanted so much to feel again the warm shifting delicate caress of that magical web as it closed around me, sliding delicately canlı bahis siteleri over my skin as it sought entrance into the secret places of my being. I wanted again the claiming of that skilful hungry mouth, taking me deep into a paradise that was not of this world, where unimaginable sensations would wrack my body as I screamed my release on the altar of…
I was back on the couch, shaking with the passion of the vision. Roz was holding me close; my face cradled against her warm breast as the tremors gradually subsided.
I was scared now, what was happening to me, where did those terrible wonderful images come from, what was I doing here in this beautiful girl’s comforting arms? And yet I did not want to stir from that safe haven.
I pressed my face into the material of her gown, seeking I know not what. She murmured something, or perhaps it was just a sigh, then she gently opened the garment and let me discover the soft flesh beneath. Instinctively like a child seeking nourishment I found the hard bud, my lips closed around it and I drew it deep into my mouth. Her hand moved to the back of my neck and pressed me into her while her fingers gently caressed the sensitive place behind my ear.
As I lay there she told me in her soft gentle voice that I was special and could if I wished become very close to her. Of all the people who had come to the gallery, and indeed very few were invited, I was the only one who had discovered the secrets of the painting and the photograph. Only I had been able to read the powerful messages that had been put there deliberately to draw out and test the abilities of all who looked at them.
The gentle stroking of my neck in time with the rhythm of my suckling at her breast, now swollen with the constant stimulation, gradually stilled the anxiety and I became filled with a warm contentment. Her words flowed over and around me, comforting yet at the same time exciting as their significance took root in my thoughts.
I lifted my head from its warm fragrant haven and stared at her. ‘What do you mean; I could be very special to you? I only know there was a reason that I had to come here.’
‘If only you knew how difficult the waiting was before I received the invitation. I was so afraid that I would not be chosen and now there are so many things I want to…’
She placed her fingers to my lips, cutting of the flow of questioning and smiled into my eyes. ‘Vikki my darling, if you really want you can have all the answers to your questions, but then your life will be so different for ever in so many ways. Nothing will remain the same, for you will be completely changed by those answers and there will be no going back.’
I struggled for understanding as I stared into her green eyes. My life, which had seemed so meaningful up to this moment now felt empty. There was a void that cried out to be filled with some unknown fulfilment.
I wanted, oh I did not know what I wanted, but deep inside I knew the truth, I wanted her! This girl was the key to everything that had happened since I entered the gallery and now I felt that the desire was mutual, that she wanted me, and I was so so willing. I tried to smile as I whispered my answer. ‘ Oh Roz, yes, yes please!’
Slowly she released me and stood up, then taking both my hands in hers, raised me to my feet. There was something different about the way she was staring at me, her smile was now one of open invitation and I began to tremble with anticipation as, without taking her eyes from mine, she slowly led me across the room. There in the corner was the mirror that I had seen in the photograph, and there she led me to stand with her, her hands holding mine as we faced each other.
‘You must be very, very sure Vikki, it’s just one more step to find what you are looking for, but if you take it then you may lose more than you gain.’
My thoughts were in turmoil, I wanted her so much; I wanted to take and be taken into whatever paradise was promised by that smile, yet I was so afraid.
I knew that this was no ordinary attraction and that this Roz was someone wonderful and powerful in ways that nature could not explain and her promises that seemed so thrilling could be extremely dangerous. But she had chosen me and suddenly I knew why. By my actions, my answers to the questions, my understanding of the pictures and my hunger for her, I had chosen myself and so I had become her choice.
‘Please Roz, I’ve come this far and now I’m burning up inside, I want you so much, I want to feel the your magic, I want…’
Again her fingers silenced my outburst, then slowly, one by one she undid the buttons of my coat then opening it wide, slid it from my shoulders. ‘Hush Vikki my darling, it’s all right, let’s take our time, after all a first kiss only comes once.’
I fell into her embrace, staring mesmerised into her green eyes, the enlarged pupils black welcoming pools of desire. Her breath was warm on my skin as her parted lips captured mine in a soft touching, then with a delicious firm pressure she opened my mouth to her kiss. There was a moment of dizziness as she exhaled and I drew her fragrance deep into my lungs and I felt her hand on my neck tilting my head back while she drew me close against her firm body.