After a very long break, and on inspiration from abstract way and Azucena210 (Thank you both! ;-) –I am back with my story. Hope you will enjoy it!
A narrow hallway opens into a sprawling, 30' foot tall open studio space, surrounded with 20' tall built in bookcases overflowing with piles of books and fantastic props. Countless paintings, and photographs cover over every inch of the few open walls. Small and large clay and wire maquettes of sculptures sit anywhere there is an open flat spot. The place is full, but not messy – there is an organic flow of color and pattern through this intricate and colorful space.
In the center stands a raised stage, set up for an artist's model. Next to it is an old, very beautiful couch, in deep blue velvet, with ornately carved arms. The far wall and ceiling are made of glass, with deconstructed, crystal chandeliers hanging below it for night illumination. It is to early and dim to see it now, but in full sunlight this place must be magic - filled with rainbows sparked of the hanging crystals. Canvases, large and small are stacked next to the raised stage. An old, wooden table, large enough to comfortably sit 10 or 12 stands in the corner of the main room flanked by a couple of small painted doors.
In the corner on the far left side there is a spiral, wrought iron staircase leading to a second floor loft, with soft pink light spilling onto a still darkened, high white walls. Quiet piano music trickles in from somewhere below us. But my attention is drawn by a black satin bra and panties, carelessly thrown across stacks of mail piled high on a small writing desk in the corner. Huh … I guess both Sam and I have similarly lax housekeeping habits.
She turns back towards me broadly sweeping her arm to point around the room. "Well….this is it. Make yourself at home." Looking directly at me she hesitates, then continues: "Rob, despite my best judgment, you are now one of a very small handful I ever allowed in here. Please respect it." I try to smile but her expression is stern as she steps closer and pokes her finger into my chest: "I am serious. If you spill any of my secrets, I will have to entrap you in a bronze cast as part of my permanent collection" She sounds like she means it, but her expression turns more playful as she goes on: "You know… This really IS a haunted place, and you won't be the first to never leave." She laughs lightly and turns away from me again. "Oh well, at least you will be in good company... "
"Like whom?" I ask intrigued, but she just shrugs her shoulders. "If you misbehave, then I will tell you. No reason to freak you out in advance."
"Fair enough" I answer with a widening grin on my face. "I've been warned. Besides, I love it here already. It will be very hard NOT to misbehave and take you up on your permanent residence offer." She is smirking at me now, so I continue: "You know… Other than spilling the beans about your hideaway, can I get that punishment for any other transgressions? Or can it be a reward for good behavior? I would love to stay here forever, but as your welcome guest..."
This time she snorts out loud: "Whoa. Not so fast. We'll see about that. You got to earn your way, but don't get your hopes up. No one succeeded yet. It is VERY hard." Yet her sparkling eyes and a coy smile in the corner of her lips show that she is playing with me. "Yesss!"
"Try me." I say. "I am pretty stubborn". And I know that I won't let her go again.
"Oh, yeah… We'll see about that " she mumbles under her breath. It is pretty apparent that neither of us wants to give an inch, but we're talking again. Well, at least until she turns around and walks out the door, chuckling to herself.
I am alone. Cool morning light barely washes the loft's skylight revealing a small roof terrace outside the glass window wall. Several scruffy pigeons peck on breadcrumbs spilled in front of the half open door. The sudden quiet after her departure is filling fast with sounds of an awakening city, dawn rhythms slowly creeping in. Garbage truck rolling by, slowly creaking boards, fast footsteps from a floor below, distant echoes of musical instruments playing scales, already in rehearsal. It is still before 7 am – but not too early to make your strings and keyboards weep…
This place is loaded with ghosts and I can't wait to dig in and find out the juicy secrets they left behind. But I will have to go slow. I have to convince Sam to trust me enough to let me explore the edges of her world. This will have to be enough for now: we are safely hidden away from the gossip-greedy world, with 160 hours to work out the starting point for our shared journey. At least I hope it will be.
"Hungry?" She comes from somewhere behind one of the shelves, on the opposite side from her exit direction. I turn around startled; I did not hear her coming. Her footsteps are completely silent. She holds a tray with a clear glass bowl filled with purple figs and orange persimmons, next to an ornate silver plate with freshly baked croissants, butter and jam. An intricately carved, sharp dagger sits on the edge of the tray… to chop up her fruit … or…Well, she looks like a harem girl ready to either serve me or to carve me up. Coming from her either one would do just fine. My stomach growls loudly. I swallow and smile at her. "Starved. Did not have anything since breakfast yesterday. I guess not even a real breakfast then either."
"Why?" She looks surprised. "Do you starve yourself to stay Hollywood-skinny out there? "
"No." I look at her. "I don't care about my weight. Just forgot to eat because I found your phone number yesterday morning, and was too wired to hold anything down. I'm ready now. Bring it on Babe…"
She raises her eyebrow and glances at me with a bemused expression. "Babe? Really? That's a new one for me. Never considered myself part of the species. Do you mean the ditzy sexpot or that talking Aussie pig?"
"I think…the sexpot without the ditzy." I say with a grin.
"Oh really…" she looks at me … seductively … and–sticks her tongue at me like a 5-year old brat! I am getting a sensory whiplash between her multiple personalities! Back to the sexy she slowly licks her full lips and blows at me a very hot Marilyn's kiss. And back to the brat she is - immediately catches it and flicks off her fingers like a piece of dirt. " You wish…" …aaand … the throaty voice of the sex vamp is back. So what can I do but just grin wider and roll my hips at her, clearly letting her know that yes, I do wish it very, VERY much.
Caught in my lustful expression she swallows hard and looks away. Ha! I got her! To keep up the game I follow with: "Ok, so … would you rather be named after the talking Aussie pig?" She huffs but her blush gets more intense as I get closer, now caressing her cheek with my whisper … and … I go in for the kill, She shivers as my lips skim slowly across her ear " You see…I really want to eat … you …all ….up."
"Oh, yeah?" she sounds breathless as I lean into her, my hands lightly skimming across her waist. "Oh, yeah" I whisper back…"I'd like you with a baked apple stuffed into your sweet snout." Aaand…I jump back fast, barely dodging a damp paint rag she grabs off the table and snaps at me. She comes close. Judging by the sharp whipping sound, it would have definitely left a bruise. I will have to watch my back.
She is back in control, composed again. "Here is your breakfast. If you want, you can take a quick shower before you have the food - no Hollywood glitter allowed here, and take a nap in my room to rest. Don't wait for me; I don't eat until later, and besides, I need to get back to work"
I am disappointed to have to eat and hang out alone, but grateful and happy to see her, to be so close. Washing off my journey's grime before food would be nice. "Great, I'd love a shower. Where do I go?" She steps lightly past me and leads me to her corner spiral staircase. "The bath is upstairs, next to my bedroom. Complete tour of the studio can wait for later. You just need to get up there and… Uh…I guess I'll better show you enough to get you settled."
I slowly follow her upstairs. As she starts climbing the narrow, steep staircase, her long legs and violin hips swing gracefully just in front of my face. What a view!
I am so close. I want to reach out and slide my hand up between her thighs. Cup her cheeks. Touch her heat. Make her tremble. But it is too early for that. Instead I just keep walking up close behind her, looking at her sinuous, slender shape through the sheer cloth, while getting too hard for my own good. But she also seems very tense. I only hope that we are too aware of each other to last apart much longer.
Next update in a couple of weeks. Possibly lemony… still trying to decide which way to go. In the meantime - Please review and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!