"I, uh..." Rick stuttered, not knowing what she was talking about. He stared over his shoulder at the sculptures, which were carefully lit and labeled as if they were any other exhibit in the museum. Three nude, rather flimsy, arts-and-crafts sculptures that had been three nude young women seconds ago.
"Need to think about it?" Jennifer prompted. Her smile grew slightly lascivious. "Don't tell me you're bashful around older women?"
Rick blushed. Older was right...she was nearly thirty. But she had a body to die for, long tumbled blonde hair, and a knowing look in her eyes that spoke of years of sexual sophistication. And she was turning it all on him!
"Of course, I could take a raincheck..." she said with a laugh, her hand brushing back her hair. A wave of musky perfume assaulted his nostrils. Under her very tight, white silk blouse she wore a lacy brassiere that the motion of her hand just happened to expose.
"Oh no, no," Rick stammered. "Tonight...tonight's fine."
"My place?" she said with an impish arch of her brow.
"Uh...sure. That's fine. Fine."
He gulped as she linked her arm in his and began to walk him away from the gallery. Her scent, strong before, now grew overpowering as she turned her head and stared into his eyes. Her own were bluish-green, slightly tilted, with a look of feral innocence. He swallowed, trying to control his male reactions. This was too good to be true. Never had he dreamed his art would be so appreciated, even if the sculptures weren't exactly his creations.
Jennifer's arm grew tighter as they walked. Her lips parted like orchids as she whispered an extra inducement: "Rick, I would do most anything for those sculptures to become a permanent addition to the museum..."
Rick couldn't believe this successful, desirable woman had just made no bones about satisfying his every whim...and not only that, she appreciated his talent. But still, there were the girls to consider. He glanced back at them, feeling guilty. They remained in a well-spotlit row, arms at their sides, their pink lego, paper mache, and popsicle stick faces staring straight ahead...seemingly as lifeless as the materials they'd been sculpted from.
Without life, and therefore, without the power to make him guilty.
Rick cleared his throat and looked Jennifer back in the eye. In a suave voice, he announced, "Yes. I'd be happy to sell them."
Sat, 03-Feb-2001 21:20:46