Her Art Pt. 05

It was well after nine when we left the house. Anita and Beth had declared that they were going on a commercial gallery tour and would be fine by themselves with an Underground map and passes.

Claudia took the passenger seat and provided directions through the labyrinth of streets leading to Green Park, which was an acient Royal tract in proximity to several palaces, and to the Prime Minister's residence at 10 Downing Street. A veritable surfeit of views for their work. I was dismissed, with instructions to find a parking spot, something not at all easy to do, and relax until called on my cell.

At my age, it was a point of honor to deal with big city traffic, although the crush of cars all driving on the left hand side of the street was intimidating to an American. In a few minutes, I came across an unoccupied space near the Embankment with views of the Thames, and gratefully took it. I was even able to feed coins successfully into the meter and felt proud of myself.

I had loaded my e-reader with one of Dickens' novels and was happily into it when my phone chimed. Avril's haughtiest voice instructed me, "Jason, we are ready to relocate and you may quickly return to Green Park!"

Thinking about future punishment this evening, I responded, "Yes, Ma'am. Immediately, Mistress."

Wet canvases were carefully loaded and we set off, this time for Hampstead Heath, where Claudia declared there were entirely too many tourists, but also good views. The navigation was very roundabout, but soon enough we approached a car park entrance on the edge of the heath.

We were instructed that a short hike with the gear would bring us to Parliament Hill, with good views, where we also could have lunch. Fully burdened, I followed the three painters, who were carrying their own materials, juggling and complaining. In ten minutes we had crossed a bridge over a water feature and ascended a slight hill, the top of which revealed expansive views of the city to the south.

The lunch package included a cloth for food and another for bottoms to keep them dry. Marie relaxed against me and said, "This is marvelous. Thank you so much for bringing us here, Claudia."

She smiled, "You can imagine how the City looked two hundred years ago from here, before the waves of construction. But it is still possible to see the Houses of Parlaiment. For a painting, it is probably best to imagine a historic time. If you like, I can provide some details."

The warm sun and an excellent wine with the sandwich had us all dozing in no time. I provided a rest for three bodies, including one whose fingers did improper things. I growled and Claudia said, "Daughter, you do not have to be in constant contact!"

In her beautifully accented and cultured voice, Avril responded, "Mother dear, from the very first day, when he asked me to travel with them, it has been nonstop teasing. I fear we do not know how to stop!"

Marie added, "Claudia, you and I are supposed to imagine the days when we were this foolish and in love. We can threaten to watch everything!"

"Yes. What a fine idea. Although undressing here might attract an audience!"

I wrappd my arms around my outraged lover and clapped a hand over her mouth. After I let her struggle free, she relaxed and said, "Yes, we have had a few moments of passion.They were very nice."

I asked, "Are you going to give Marie permission to show Claudia her experimental exotic paintings of us?"

The squirmy body gave a terrible moan and buried its head in my lap. Then turned over, laughing, "My mother likes sex. She raised me to like sex. She will get a charge out of those paintings!"

"The two of you are very indiscreet." Marie turned to Claudia with a laugh. "Speaking of indiscreet, they allowed me to photograph them in the back of the van one evening when overcome by a moment of passion. After debating with myself, I decided to attempt paintings. Your daughter likes them but claims they must not be sold!"

"Oh dear, my own flesh and blood with a male buried in her?"

Avril sat up. "Am I just a sex object? Perhaps I should disrobe right here for a nature study?"

I caught a glint in Claudia's eye. "Yes, a nature study is needed. Both of you will pose for us. An intimate portrait in the park is needed..."

We both objected, looking around. "But..."

"No buts. Stay right where you are while Marie and I set up. I will arrange you in a minute."

Avril whispered in my ear, "When she visits, we will have both of them together. With photographs!"

For an hour, we sat, comfortably chatting, while the two mothers worked at their canvases, making quiet comments to each other that we could not hear. When they had captured necessary background, two sets of hands positioned Avril half leaning on me in a languid pose, with her blouse undone from her shorts and gaping open at the top. The bra was dispensed with. My beautiful lover's chest was going to be in the painting as nature made it. She was embarrassed and proud at the same time.

Marie said, "Please look at each other as though something timeless is going on. You are in love, the picnic and the weather are perfect. Whatever challenges threaten, your love will sustain you!"

I responded, "Terribly sappy, Mom," but looked at Avril with those words in mind.

We held very still for minutes. Avril mumbled, "This is too sweet, I am going to cry." And collapsed to my lap.

"All right, take your nap while we finish here."

It wasn't much of a nap. Avril pushed me down for a torrid kiss and a hot whisper, "Don't forget that advice, lover. Now, help me up, I'm stiff from sitting."

I chased her across the hill, yelling, "I have to sustain you!" When we turned around, the painters were packing up. Shortly, we were back in the Land Rover, headed home. It was a happy group. Avril pulled my hair from the back seat. Marie announced, "This is entirely too short a visit. As soon as the Vivaldi paintings are done and I have you two safely stashed in university, Claudia has invited me back for a longer stay. Beth and Anita will look after business matters..."

Avril whispered, "Stashed?"

I let silence build, and said, "There are only eight weeks until Christmas. I think Claudia will be with us after Boxing Day before you free yourself to return to London."

More wrestling in the back. Silent until a young voice said, "The painters like to be together. The commissions will cover frequent travel across the ocean?"

I reached for Claudia's hand and squeezed. Her glance at me was full of curiosity and lust.

(to be continued)