A Portrait of "Proper Beauty"

I was sitting glassy eyed just digesting this when my phone buzzed again - it was Allegra.

"Hello Kevin, this is Mrs. Van Rensselaer; I know that you just talked to George and I'm pleased that you will be able to help us out."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Van Rensselaer," I replied.

"One question, though; do you know any ballroom dances?"

"No...I normally just shimmy to fast music."

"Would you mind if I asked you to take a few lessons - at my cost - before the ball. It is important for appearances that I dance and there always are some creeps at these events so I want all of my dances to be with you, and you can't have two left feet. It won't interfere with your summer job - in fact I have a proposition for a new summer job for you."

"Uh...sure, I guess," I hesitantly replied.

To make a long story short I took five ballroom dance lessons at night over the next two weeks, and during the sixth one Allegra came to the class and danced with me. During our last dance, where we were in particularly tight contact, I couldn't help but sprout a boner. Allegra smiled and then whispered into my ear "I wish that I could take care of it for you now; maybe sometime before the summer is over," which only caused it to get harder.

At the ball I was a perfect gentleman, and per Allegra's instruction stayed near her the entire evening, and declined to let at least a dozen guys cut in while we were dancing. Only one - obviously drunk - needed more than a comment and a scowl, and I was proud of myself for being firm with him, but not going ballistic. As Allegra and I drove back to her mansion in the limo, which would take me back to my parents' house after she was dropped off, she thanked me profusely. Then, to make sure that the driver didn't hear, whispered into my ear "I would love to fuck you, but that will have to wait," causing an instant "boing" at my crotch.

Allegra then continued. "I propose a different summer job for you. One of the charities I'm on the board of needs summer help teaching art to underprivileged kids and taking them on outings. I myself will pay you 25% more than you're making at your present summer job if you'll do it."

Since I didn't like my present summer job, I enthusiastically agreed.

Allegra didn't tell me that the job would require almost daily contact with her; both a great bonus, and distressing, since every time that I saw her I wanted to ravage her. She went with the group of kids that I was counselling to every art museum and gallery around, and to excursions to parks and the zoo. Allegra always seemed to have a watchful eye on me regardless of the endeavor, but avoided all except for fleeting body contact.

When we went to the top gallery in the city that our community was a suburb of I was shocked to see my painting of Allegra - which I had entitled "Ethereal" - prominently displayed in a perfect high-quality frame with a price tag of $15,000. What surprised me even more was that the tag had a "Sold" marking in red ink on it, and in small print "To be delivered in September."

"What's this?" I asked her, pointing to the portrait.

"You need the money for school and to start life after you graduate, and even though it sold after being displayed for only a week the gallery owner insisted that it remain on display until September. I'll give you $14,000 at that time, the $15,000 sale price minus the gallery commission," Allegra said. Then for the first time that summer since the charity ball she gave me a quick peck on the lips, and walked away.

Allegra's surprise for me needed to be reciprocated; so during the summer I arranged one for her. I did the same portrait only this time I didn't blur anything. If you knew Allegra, you would know that it was her in the portrait, in all of her naked glory.

The last Saturday before I would return to college for my senior year Allegra asked me to go on an outing with her, at which time she would give me the check for my painting that had been sold. Although I didn't tell her in advance that would also be my chance to give her my new portrait which I entitled "Proper Beauty." What she didn't tell me was that our excursion was for a tryst in a luzury hotel about sixty miles away.

For four hours that afternoon I had a sexual experience that topped even the three other sexual experiences I had had with Allegra. It was hard to pinpoint the difference until I finally figured it out; our copulations were not only as physically rewarding as ever, but there was a a stronger emotional component - especially on her part - that meant that we were sometimes making love in addition to fucking.

After a concluding shower she gave me the check from the sale of the painting, and I gave her my new portrait. After she unwrapped it she exclaimed with tears in her eyes "I love it - but I can't display it. Anyone seeing it would know that I had been intimate with the artist!"

"Hide it away someplace; only look at it IF you ever miss me," I replied.

After that comment she attacked me with every ounce of emotion in her body, and I thought for sure we'd be fornicating again and have to take another shower, before she gained control. We had a very pleasant ride home, even though I wondered during it if I would ever see her again since I had no good excuse to come back to my home community after my parents moved, and since I knew that Van had already had a job lined up after he graduated that was some 500 miles away.

As Allegra dropped me off in a secluded part of a park about a quarter mile from my parents' house we kissed passionately. "Will I ever see you again?" I asked.

"Stranger things have happened," she replied, sticking her tongue in my mouth.

Once again, after an interlude with Allegra my mind was fucked up for the next two weeks.

++++++++++++++

I had some social life my senior year, but not much. As I had feared, Allegra had spoiled me for sexual relationships with other women. Though I got laid a few times I compared my partners to Allegra, which meant that any hope of a relationship was doomed.

I didn't see Allegra again during the school year. I did have some contact with her, however, since I sent her four paintings that I had done of women in action poses and wild background and she sold them in the same gallery that "Ethereal" had sold in. These four painting were nice, but they didn't have part of my soul in them like "Ethereal" did, so they sold for between $1500 and $2000. However that was enough, combined with the $14,000 (minus tax) for "Ethereal" and the fact that I was still on a lacrosse scholarship and I had my summer earnings, such that when I graduated I had enough money for a serviceable car (the clunker that I had during college died) and a one bedroom apartment (with rented furniture) all to myself.

After graduation in late spring when I had just turned 23 on the strength of my business degree I got a job in a big company in a city about 800 miles from my hometown. What I really liked about that city was its vibrant art community since I wanted to continue painting and learn more techniques, with delusions of ultimately becoming a full time artist.

I had been in my new apartment about ten days, and had completed my first week of work, when late morning on a Saturday there was a knock at my door. Since I didn't really know anyone yet, I was quite surprised. When I opened it there stood Allegra, with a suitcase in hand.

"Hi Kevin," she smiled.

"Uh...hi Mrs. Van Rensselaer," I stammered.

"You can't call me that anymore," she chuckled, holding up her left hand with a bare ring finger. "Allegra will do just fine; my last name has returned to my maiden name of Hurst."

"Wha...what...happened?"

"Invite me in and I'll tell you," she grinned.

"Oh...sorry...come in," I stuttered, moving out of the way. As she walked by me she planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

"Well, to make a long story short, George found out about your portrait 'Proper Beauty' and asked me about it. I may be a cheat, but I'm not a liar, so I told him what it signified. He was very upset - especially since I wasn't apologetic. After he calmed down the next day I told him the reality of the situation, and we got divorced," she nonchalantly said.

"How did he find it?" I asked.

"That answer is for another time," she giggled. I had never before heard her giggle.

"What...was...the reality of the situation," I inquired, temporarily less tongue-tied.

"Before I tell you I want you to answer a question," Allegra said as she rose from her seat, walked over to me, and sat on my lap. Staring intently into my eyes she said "One time you told me that you loved me. Is that still true?"

I gulped hard; I hoped against hope that this was going the way that I wanted it to, so taking the chance that my heart wouldn't be broken I replied "Yes; no I take that back; Hell Yes!"

Allegra smiled. "Then I can tell you the reality of the situation. I've fallen in love with you, and I couldn't stay with George if I had a chance to be with you."

As we lay in bed, naked, panting and sweating, about a half hour later after as animalistic a fuck as possible, we stared into each other's eyes. Flippantly I asked "Does the fact that you have a suitcase mean that you're staying in a hotel."

"It means that I need a place to stay; I hoped that it could be here with you, if you can stand living with a 35 year old when you're only 23," she replied, biting her lip.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"In long term climate controlled storage; no problem with it," she replied.

"If you stay here, what does that mean?" I queried.

"It means that we see in the next year if we're meant to be together. I think it likely that we are. After all, I had a two month long compatibility interview with you last summer when we had sex only for four hours, but were together doing things with clothes on for at least 200 hours, so I think that we will find out that we are well-matched."

"You interviewed me?" I chuckled.

"What do you think I was doing in having close non-sexual contact with you for so many hours? I wanted to see if we were as well-suited for each other with our clothes on as off. I think that we are, and in the next year we can find out for sure."

"Can you stand to live in a one bedroom apartment after living in mansions your entire life?"

"I'm anxious to try. After a year we can reevaluate both our relationship and our living conditions; you may find me too high maintenance, and I may find it too difficult to live without all of the perks of wealth. We can't know unless we try - and one thing is for sure, there is no problem with our sexual compatibility; is there?" she grinned.

"No - there is no problem with that," I laughed. "However, I need to know if I am just a surrogate for Brandon; and you have to tell me the whole story about his life and death."

Allegra got serious and paused before responding. "You started out as a surrogate for Brandon. Then as I got to know you and you matured I started to love you for whom you are, although the fact that you look just like Brandon didn't hurt. Anyway, I came to love you last summer, so no - you definitely are not a surrogate for Brandon. As for telling you the complete story about him, I may never be able to tell you; it is very difficult and unnerving for me to talk about."

I kissed her, and we made love; no fucking, just sexual and emotional bonding.

++++++++++

And so started the great experiment: Could a couple where the woman was 12 years older than the man, who were from different social classes, who had a relationship that started because the man looked like the dead love of the woman's live, be happy together?

Things didn't go completely smoothly. Allegra did have some difficulties adapting to a normal life rather than a wealthy one. However, she never complained about that, and the only thing she lobbied me successfully for was a new bed. The rented double was uncomfortable, and since much of our bonding was between the sheets she bought a top-of-the-line queen bed and returned the rented one.

As for me, I had to help Allegra in dealing with normal people in many settings, but I never forced anything upon her and she legitimately wanted to see what being normal was like. She had no interest in working for money, but did get involved in several charities (that she surreptitiously supported monetarily too), but she rarely used her money to support us. We lived almost exclusively (with minor departures, such as a vacation to Aruba in the worst of winter) on my earnings.

One thing that Allegra constantly did was encourage my painting. I didn't really sell more than a couple of new pieces, for little money, but that didn't deter her. She knew that I loved painting much more than the job I had - which I kept only to make money.

Another thing that indicated that our relationship just might survive was the fact that our sexual passion for each other didn't waiver even the slightest. On a ten point scale our sexual satisfaction was still an eleven the entire time that we lived in my apartment.

After we had lived together for about nine months I was convinced that we were deeply in love - I know that I was - and I had hope for the future; enough so that I bought her an engagement ring. Even though it was about 1/4th the size of the one George had given her, I knew that she would love it just as much, if not more.

I had the engagement ring sitting in one of my drawers, hidden under clothing, wondering when I would have enough guts to propose to a filthy rich goddess twelve years older than I was. After a truly emotional love-making session on a Saturday night, as thoughts of the engagement ring flashed into my brain, without looking at me, with her head on my chest, Allegra said "Kevin; there may be a reason that we want to relocate before a year, or at least find a place to relocate quickly after living here a year."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Well...I don't know how I got my precautionary dates wrong...maybe because I'm so happy and in-love that I just haven't thought about it...but I'm seven weeks pregnant," she quietly said.

She said it so quietly that I wasn't sure if I heard her right; so I lifted her chin up so that she was looking at me and asked "Did you say that you are pregnant?"

She nodded her head and then started to softly cry. "I didn't do it to tie you to me, I swear, I would never try to tie you down if you..."

I cut her off. "Be quiet," I barked.

She continued to softly cry while I got up, went to the dresser, and pulled out the engagement ring. I went back to bed, opened the ring box, and staring into her eyes asked "Would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

She sobbed so hard that I couldn't understand what she said, but given the fact that she extended her left hand toward me with her fingers spaced apart I gathered that she meant "yes," so I slipped the ring on her fourth finger.

++++++++++++

Ten days before the lease expired on my apartment we moved into a nice, but clearly not ostentatious, four-bedroom house that Allegra bought. We got married in a small ceremony a week later. I quit my job and now paint full time, in addition to carrying for our two kids, a boy who looks just like me, and a girl who looks just like Allegra. I make enough money selling my works that I can afford to buy all of our food and clothes for me and the kids (I can't afford Allegra's clothes); Allegra provides the rest of the support. I'm becoming well-known in the art world for paintings of beautiful women in action poses, and after I die may even become famous.

I've turned into a really good dancer; I've had lots of practice since Allegra is either organizing or attending all sorts of charity balls. In fact I think that with all humility I can say that we are the best and most enthusiastic dancers everywhere we go, and I never, ever, let anyone else dance with her.

Five years into marriage to a woman who I love with all of my heart I'm happier than I ever thought that I possibly could be.

While I never brought up the subject of Brandon after we married, I did occasionally smilingly inquire about how George found the "Proper Beauty" naked painting I had done of Allegra which precipitated their divorce. It was only after five years of marriage, however, that I got the details of how George came upon "Proper Beauty," which portrait now proudly hangs in our den.

One sunny spring morning when our entire family was in a good mood, the kids and I tickled Allegra as she begged us to stop. "Not until you tell us how George found out about 'Proper Beauty," I chuckled.

"OK, OK," she laughed. "I hung it in the master bedroom in the wall over his side of the bed." As I stood there flabbergasted she virtually threw our almost five year old giggling daughter at me, and picked up our two year old son, and said "Now that that's taken care of, let's go to the park!"