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?'