Kim Pt. 02

Simone looked a tad put out at the change the conversation direction had taken. She grunted and led the way across to the main building and the Library, where Michael was waiting for them.

He greeted the women, then turned to Kim. "Kim, I feel I need to apologise to you. I may have given you the wrong impression earlier. I can't say I was displeased when Simone mentioned you would be the art assessor. I'd finally meet the woman who'd left such a lasting impression on the brother. But I gather the feeling wasn't mutual."

"Mr Schmitt, I'm here for one reason and only one reason. To assess the paintings you want us to sell for you." Kim's tone was level and studied, and she felt Simone's fingers tighten around her arm.

"It's Von Schmitt if we are going to be formal," Michael replied stiffly.

"That's fine; in that case, I'm Mrs Anders."

Michael turned to Simone with a slight expression of surprise on his face. "You didn't mention that she was married."

"I didn't think it mattered," she responded. "Kim is only here to help you decide the best paintings to put into the sale. Not to warm your bed."

Michael put his hands up in an appeasement gesture. "Ladies, I think we are getting way off track here." He directed his following words to Kim. "I apologise if I gave you the impression that I thought there was more to this weekend than you anticipated. All I need is for you to do what you do best and help me decide which of our artwork we should send for sale and what we might expect to get for them."

Simone added, "And I need to apologise as well. I shouldn't have mentioned the weekend we had with Kurt to Michael. I wasn't aware that Kurt had told him years ago. I'll admit that I was happy to spend an enjoyable weekend with Michael, but I had no intention of involving you in our activities."

Kim felt her anger begin to subside, and her professionalism came to the fore. She allowed Michael to lead Simone and her to a long gallery on the first floor that seemingly stretched the width of the building.

Windows along one of the long walls let in natural daylight. Mirrors of the facing wall enhanced the light. Fifty to sixty paintings were mounted in the gaps between the windows on one side and framed mirrors on the facing wall. Running down the centre were several antique tables on which several bronzes and marble sculptures were displayed. Lining the walls below the paintings was a row of eighteenth-century dining chairs. Kim guessed that in the past, the room had been used as a formal dining room.

Michael gestured at the walls, "I don't know how much Simone has told you, but the family needs to generate a minimum of thirty-five million euros from the sale, ideally fifty if possible."

Kim cast an expert eye over the half dozen painting she could see clearly from where she stood. They were good, but nothing stood out, and she couldn't see anything she thought would achieve more than a couple of hundred-thousand euros at auction. She slowly walked deeper into the gallery, and the quality began improving.

She inspected several minor works from recognised artists; the paintings ranged from old masters to impressionists. But nothing later than the 1920s. She'd only reached a quarter of the way along when Michael interrupted her, wanting to know what her first impression was.

"You will need better pieces than these if you are going to reach your goal."

"These are no good?"

"There are some good pieces, but I've seen nothing special yet," Kim admitted. "But what I've seen so far isn't good enough to raise the sum you want." She gestured back at the dozen or so paintings she'd checked. "On a good day, those might make three million at auction. If the rest are similar, then twelve to fifteen million tops."

Michael pursed his lips, "I'd hoped there might be something special amongst these."

Kim shrugged, and Simone joined her as she inspected the remaining paintings. She took her time, and as a collection, they were impressive, and any art gallery would be happy to display them. But other than a pair of lovely portraits of an austere husband and wife by the Dutch artist Jan Verkolje, that she thought could reach two million each, the rest were on par with the others she'd assessed earlier.

The two women conferred, then called Michael over. Kim said, "Even if you were to put every painting in this room up for auction, I doubt you would raise much more than fifteen after auction fees."

Michael addressed Simone, "And you agree with her assessment?" She nodded.

Michael didn't look happy, "I'd hoped they would be worth a lot more. It's getting late. Let's eat while I think about my options."

After the meal, Kim returned to her room, leaving Simone and Michael to talk. Several hours later, when she went to use the bathroom, the sounds she heard coming from Simone's room confirmed that the woman was enthusiastically enjoying Michael's company.

In the morning, the two women were served breakfast in the guesthouse dining room. Simone looked like she had been ridden long and hard. She was wearing a low-cut top, and the visible swell of her breasts was marred with finger and teeth marks.

"What are you going to tell Helen about last night? I don't want her to think it was me," Kim said.

"Don't worry; she knows I'll end up fucking Michael whenever I see him," Simone responded. "So she won't be surprised. But he was a man possessed last night, and I lost count of the number of times I came." She couldn't help giving the other woman a self-satisfied grin.

"Michal had hoped that the artwork in the gallery would be worth more than you told him it was worth."

Kim sighed, "I could be wrong, but I didn't see anything spectacular. I even checked the sculptures, he might get another couple of million on a good day, but that's all."

"I thought so. Look, Michael will show us more of his family's art collection today. He couldn't yesterday as he had to get his father's permission first."

"Why?"

"Because the ownership on some of the pieces is disputed."

Kim knew that usually meant only one thing and gave her a shocked look. "If it's Nazi-looted art, there is no way we can touch it. Let's leave."

"The pieces have nothing to do with the Nazis," Simone reassured her. "Michael says they've been in his family for over a hundred years. It's just that a distant branch of his family claims they own several of the pieces."

At that, Kim relaxed, but only slightly. She knew she had the most up-to-date database of stolen and looted artwork on her computer. She had been negligent yesterday and hadn't checked any paintings against the list. Then again, she had a good memory and had seen nothing in the gallery that had caused her concern, but that wouldn't stop her from double-checking later.

"You know we can't handle items with a disputed ownership."

"Michael said he would explain later, but it was something to do with a disputed inheritance after First World War. The courts ruled in his family's favour, but several appeals have arisen. His family would prefer not to rack over the coals if they don't have to."

"Well, let's go and see what he's got to show us then."

It turned out that Michael wasn't available until the afternoon and wasn't willing to let the women view the pieces independently. So rather than waste the morning, Kim and Simone returned to the gallery, and the women confirmed Kim's earlier thoughts. Kim did her due diligence and checked the stolen and looted database and found nothing to worry her.

There were a few paintings Kim saw on the walls of the corridors that interested her, but again nothing that valuable. Over lunch, she queried several of the art websites she subscribed to and looked for any mention of disputed ownership of paintings that the Von Schmitt family owned, but nothing popped up.

Six paintings were displayed in the small room Michael brought the women to later that afternoon. It was an intimate drawing room, obviously kept for the family's private use. On a desk in the corner were displayed family photographs. Kim saw several of Michael and Kurt, but her attention was focused on the paintings. She drew a sharp breath in response to the paintings when they were fully revealed as Michael switched on the display lights.

Kim immediately recognised three of them as being painted by Pierre-Auguste Renoir. She'd seen old black and white photos of them in his catalogue raisonné. All three were listed as being in private collections, location unknown.

The other paintings were good, several classes above those she'd seen the day before, but nowhere near the quality of the Renoir's. All three appeared to be from the Flemish school.

Kim felt her knees weaken as she tried to take in the quality and immenseness of the three Renoir paintings she was looking at and had to hold on to a table to stop collapsing. Just being so close to such great works was like experiencing a fantastic orgasm, and she felt the familiar warm glow growing in the pit of her stomach and the ache as her nipples hardened.

"Have you seen these before?" Kim asked Simone and gestured at the paintings. The woman shook her head.

Kim reluctantly curbed her enthusiasm and turned her back on the Renoirs. She moved closer to the other paintings, and Simone followed her. None of them was signed, but the artists' skill was evident in the quality of the paintings. Using a bright light, the women inspected the paintings. Finally, they stepped back and conferred.

Simone started, " I think those two," and she gestured at two portraits, one of an elderly couple, the other of a woman and a child, "are by the same hand.".

"I think you are right, but I don't recognise the artist. They could be from Rembrandt's studio but not by the master. They are extremely well painted, but they need cleaning and some restoration."

"They do; what about the other one?"

The third showed a group of men around a table in a tavern, eating and drinking. "It's also Dutch, possibly by Dirck Hals. It's the type of subject he is known for."

Michael interrupted their musings, "What sort of value could we expect?"

"Any one of the Renoirs would easily reach your top target even after the auction fees. I assume you have full provenience for all of these?"

"We have for the Renoirs and that one," and Michael pointed at the one Kim thought was possibly a Hals."

"My great, great, grandfather bought them from a gallery in Paris sometime in the 1890s. Our lawyers have all the paperwork."

"And the other two?"

"Ahh, the Rembrandts, those are the ones we may have an issue with. My great, great, grandfather's elder brother married the daughter of a prominent Dutch family, and the paintings were part of her dowery. Unfortunately, they both died in a tragic accident six months after they were married. Her family claimed as there were no children, the paintings were still their property and should be returned to them. His younger brother, who inherited his brother's lands and titles, disagreed. It went to court, and they found in our favour."

"Unfortunately, I don't believe those are Rembrandts. They might be from his studio, but I doubt he painted them. So what's the issue with them?"

"We were always told they were by the man himself." Michael protested.

"I'm afraid not," Simone said. "The brushwork isn't good enough. I'm sure it's by one of his assistants."

"Ahh," Michael turned his back on the faux Rembrandt. "Which of the others is the most valuable?"

Kim pointed unerringly at a two-by-one-metre painting of a family picnicking on the bank of a stream; it was the largest of the three. "That one, I'd put a reserve of forty million on it and expect it to reach at least double that."

She walked over and stood in front of the painting. It was one of the most exquisite pieces she'd seen. Tentatively stretching out a hand, she lightly rested a finger on the face of a young girl. It was as though she could feel the features of the face under her fingertip. Again she felt herself grow flushed as the beauty of the painting affected her. Her nipples tingled, and when Simone rested her hand on her shoulder, it felt so natural.

"That one, then," Michael said. "Does it need any restoration?"

"A light clean as most," Simone replied. "The smoke from the fireplace has slightly discoloured the varnish."

Even though Michael had decided on the painting he would send to auction, he was willing to let the two women continue to examine the artwork. He sent for Emil and had him bring a bottle of champagne for them to enjoy.

Kim couldn't believe her luck. Michael had given her permission to take the three Renoirs down from the wall and examine them for as long as she wanted. She had Emil help her and place them on a table.

She briefly acknowledged Michael as he gave her a full glass and sipped the excellent champagne. Every few moments, she broke away from her perusal of the paintings and took another sip to moisten her dry mouth from the seemingly always full glass. Her emotions grew as she realised that, most likely, she was the first person to examine the three paintings since Michael's ancestor had bought them in Paris all those years ago.

Seemingly moments, evident from the stiffness of her back, probably a couple of hours later, Kim stood up straight and stretched her cramped muscles with a soft groan. She was grateful that Michael supported her as her head spun.

"Welcome back," he said. "You were lost in your own world for a while."

Kim groaned again as her body protested as she took a step. She'd done this before, losing herself in the skill and imagination of the artist, but never to this extent. Simone took her over to the sofa, and they sat down. Simone began massaging the other woman's shoulders, feeling the knots in the muscles. Kim relaxed back, resting against the woman, subconsciously revelling in the familiarity of Simone's touch.

Michael pressed a fresh glass of champagne into Kim's hand, and she swallowed it in one go. The wine, the warm touch of her ex-lover's hands, and the presence of the artwork all enveloped her, and she felt aroused in a way she hadn't felt in years. She'd missed the soft touch of a woman's body pressed against hers for far too long.

Kim's whole body buzzed, and she didn't register the other hands that deftly unbuttoned her blouse and then eased her skirt down her legs. Simone reached down, and Kim groaned as a soft feminine hand slipped under the waistband of her panties and a finger pressed down on her eager clit.

Kim lost herself to the moment, only focused on seeking more and greater satisfaction; she was a passenger to her body's needs. Simone took the lead, striping the rest of Kim's clothes from her. Then as Michael buried his face between Kim's thighs occupying the woman's full attention, Simone took the opportunity to slip the last of her clothes off. Michael was only wearing his boxers

Kim was focused on her gratification; she floated above her physical self. The two people with her moved in sync, and her body eagerly responded. Pleasure peaked, faded and peaked again. She was vaguely aware that Michael had picked her up and carried her to another room. She was gently placed on a bed, and Simone took her in her arms. Michael's heavier musky smelling body pressed up against her other side, he'd lost his boxers, and his hard cock was trapped between them. Kim wanted Simone to continue making love to her; Michael was just a tool for her pleasure. Michael raised her leg, eager to bury himself in the woman.

Kim was vaguely aware of Simone hissing "No," at the man. "You need to use a condom." Which she thought was a bit odd, but then as Simone renewed her attention to her nipples, she let the pleasure overwhelm her thoughts.

Hard flesh invaded Kim's body, an assault she happily welcomed until her body and mind was overloaded and shut down.

Much later, Kim began to become aware of her surroundings again. She felt a mix of contentment and exhaustion and found that she was sandwiched between two naked bodies, Simone asleep in front and Michael behind her. Michael's hands caressed her breasts, and his hips moved in a rhythm as old as time.

Kim pressed back, enjoying the feeling of the hard cock as it moved inside of her. Both of them moved slowly but with purpose, and Michael's purpose was achieved as he shuddered and spent himself inside the woman's eager flesh. Kim drifted back to sleep with a warm glow in her pussy.

Sometime later, a slanted beam of sunlight moved across Kim's face, waking her. She was alone in an ornate bedroom she didn't recognise. As she tried to recollect why she was in this bed and not the one in her room, she realised she was naked under the covers, and her body felt like it had been well used. Her nipples and pussy ached and throbbed what had happened. She scrambled out of bed and hurried into the attached bathroom. She inspected herself; there was no way she could deny the evidence. She'd been well and truly fucked and fucked hard. If it had just been Simone, she could have lived with it, but Michael had used her. The horror of the situation hit her hard, and she collapsed on the floor and started sobbing.

She was still sobbing when Simone returned.

"Love, what's the matter?"

"Look at me," Kim sobbed and gestured at the streak of dried cum on her thigh. "Your boyfriend fucked me. We've been trying for a baby, so I stopped taking the pill a couple of months ago. What am I going to tell Ben?"

"I told Michael he had to use a condom."

"Does it look like he did? And why did you let him?"

Simone gave the other woman an embarrassed look. "I admit I wanted the chance to make love to you again. Michael was keen to discover why Kurt couldn't stop talking about that weekend. I helped him plan your seduction, and I wanted to share him with you. I told him how you get lost in the art, and all Michael would have to do was keep your glass full." Simone placed a hand on Kim and helped her to her feet.

"Well, it worked, didn't it," Kim snarled. "I hope you are proud of yourself. You knew my weaknesses, and you may have fucked up my marriage. I trusted you."

Kim shrugged off the other woman's hand and stepped into the shower turning on the water. "If you want to help, get my bag from my room and tell that bastard to keep away from me. I won't stay here a minute longer than I have to."

Simone nodded and left. Kim ran the water as hot as she could stand and scrubbed every inch of herself that she could reach. She was drying herself by the time Simone returned with her overnight bag.

"I can't stay here another minute," she told Simone angrily. "I'm not sure I wouldn't take a knife to his precious paintings if I did!"

Simone took her in her arms, "I understand; I've already told him we are leaving and to keep out of your way."

Kim quickly got dressed and let Simone lead her to her car that someone had left in the driveway at the bottom of the steps, the doors and the boot open. Kim saw as she placed her overnight bag in the boot that all her equipment had already been packed away. Kim got in and sat silently as Simone started the engine, and they began the drive back to Zurich.

"Why did you let him do that to me?" Kim finally asked. "You knew I didn't want that to happen."

"I know, but I got swept up at the moment, just like you. I should have stopped him from topping up your glass. Christ, you drank the better part of three bottles on your own, but you kept holding your glass out."

"You know how I get lost in the moment when I'm studying paintings by the masters. You two could have been fucking on the table beside me, and I wouldn't have noticed." She turned her head to look at Simone and saw the other woman blushing.

"Christ, don't tell me you were?"