Chapter 1 - Valued

 

"Colin, what is this? I like it very much," John asked Colin as he viewed a painting in Colin's art gallery.

"John, what an eye you have. That is a Canaletto, one of his earlier pieces, and valuable, it will increase in price. At the moment I am just charging five million, a bargain," Colin said.

"I do like it; it will go very nice in the breakfast room. What a vivid yellow," John said as he gazed on the painting; Colin knew he had a sale, John, liked his art, and he had a sixth sense that led him to a quality painting.

"Fifty thousand down and then once authenticated the balance?" John asked.

"Fine, I can agree to that. Five million is a lot to spend unless you are sure it is the real thing, then again. When have I ever sold you a duff painting? I do have my reputation to think of," Colin said as if aggrieved.

"Five hundred thousand is one thing, but five million is another matter. Only a fool would part with so much, without authenticating the painting. There is provenance, isn't there?" John asked.

"From being stolen by the Germans in the last war, they called it confiscating, we called it theft, but I have checked, and the owners at that time were all gassed, so there will be no comeback at a later date from a relative, there are none," Colin assured John.

"Ok, I will get an expert to check it on Monday, and pay the deposit Monday night, if that is alright?" John asked.

"They will be checking it here, won't they?" Colin asked, which made John suspicious, but his expert would make sure it was real.

"Yes, no problem," John said, "I must admit to being a little confused, he was famous for his scenes really, buildings and views of cities, yet here we have a single sunflower in a blue vase, a still life, not his usual work, is it?" John asked.

"No, a little known piece, which is why, I was not insulted when you asked to have it authenticated," Colin replied.

"Hum, rather a long way from his normal work, still I like it. So I will speak to my contact at the art museum, see you Monday night, BACS ok?" John asked.

"Yes, ideal I would hate to have to walk to the bank with five million in cash, or the fifty thousand deposit, on Monday," Colin replied.

"The museum will want to take it to their work shop. You know my contact there, that won't be a problem, will it?" John asked.

"No, as long as it is Brian, who collects it," Colin said.

John left the art gallery still not totally happy about his purchase, yet as he had decided, it would look very good in his breakfast room. He went to the art museum and spoke to his acquaintance who agreed to go and collect the piece on Monday and to authenticate the work.

"A sunflower by Canaletto, Brian, will be very sceptical. I have never heard of such a painting by Canaletto," John's acquaintance said.

The arrangements made, John went back to his hotel, where he was to meet up with another acquaintance.

John was not a self-made millionaire, he had inherited fifty million from his father when he died; he was the self-made millionaire. A year to the day after John's mother had died, but John was not stupid, he had turned the fifty million into two hundred and fifty million with good investments. He was the archetypal rich playboy, and ranked sixth, in the most eligible bachelors.

He had also inherited his father's love of art, and spent most of his time looking around art galleries for the unusual, but not cubism, or abstract. He liked the scene painters and still life, but his real love, was nudes.

He was rich, handsome, and intelligent, all the requirements for his place in the rankings. He had been educated at a public school and then got a degree in business, at Oxford.

John entered his room and looked around; the champagne was on ice, two flutes stood beside it. A bowl of fresh fruit was next to the champagne, peeled and cut ready. He smiled the scene was set, he showered and changed into more casual attire, slacks, open necked shirt and his signature, cravat. He checked again that the scene was set, everything was in place and he checked that he looked the part, and then sat down to await his guest.

He hadn't been sat very long when there was a knock at the door, and he opened it. She was very tasty, about his height, six feet tall, and she had a long neck, with a choker fastened around it, broad shoulders, and a very well defined bust, a trim waist and nicely rounded hips. He had wanted a blonde, but they said that she was not available, so he went for the brunette, and he was not disappointed.

"Please, come in, allow me," he said taking her coat, and hanging it up for her.

He looked at the woman before him; she was well groomed, her hair hung in waves down to her shoulders, her skirt was a plain 'A' line, with two side pleats, above that she wore a white blouse, with the top two buttons undone, allowing him a view of her cleavage. She wore a white bra under her blouse, support, but not obvious, as a black one would be. She was very elegant in her stiletto heel shoes, again in red to match her skirt, and nail polish.

"A glass of champagne, my dear?" John asked.

"That would be lovely, thank you. I have to admit to one very bad habit, I love to dunk strawberries in the champagne, the effervescence, with the sharp taste of the strawberry, is excellent," she said.

"I must say I have never tried that, shall we?" John asked, indicating the easy chairs by the table with the champagne.

She moved as if floating on air, so elegantly to the chair indicated by John, and sat down. John poured the champagne and offered her the bowl of fruit. She selected a strawberry and dunked it into the champagne, then bit it and smiled at him. John decided to try her suggestion, and dunked his strawberry into his champagne, and bit it.

"Hum, yes I see what you mean, very, erm, exciting?" he said querying his words.

"Yes, very," she replied.

She got up and began to undress, removing her skirt and blouse and then her stockings suspender belt, and turned to look at John as he sat watching her.

"Sorry, did you want the privilege?" She asked him.

"No, I am just enjoying the view, please, carry on," John replied.

"Would you like to play first?" she asked seductively.

"That depends on the game," John replied.

"It is very simple, I lie on the bed and you have to eat me, no biting," she said, with a crooked smile to entice him.

"Please, carry on," John said, his emotions beginning to start to have the desired effect, as she stood before him enticingly, half-naked.

She selected a rather large strawberry took two slices of apple with the core removed, and peeled a banana, carrying the fruit in one hand she picked up her champagne in the other, and lay on the bed.

John watched in amazement as she pushed the strawberry up her cunt, then dribbled some champagne in her belly button, and placed the apples slices on her nipples.

"Remember, no biting, especially down there, and you must be naked first. You must start at the top, and work down," she said and smiled at him.

She lay back and put the piece of banana in her mouth like a phallic symbol. John smiled and stripped off quickly. Then got on the bed carefully next to her, and leaned forward to take the banana, for which he got a kiss on those full luscious lips. Next were the slices of apple, which he licked off her nipples and ate them, one at a time, enjoying the feel of her firm breasts and proud nipples as he put his lips around her nipples, and licked up the ring of apple.

Now the champagne, he bent down and licked her belly button to her moans of delight, and finally it was the strawberry's turn. He moved down and lay between her legs; he looked up her long body to her face, which had a permanent smile on it, enticing him. He moved forward and probed her cunt with his tongue, hooking it around the strawberry, but it slipped off. This was fun, as he worked on the strawberry, his tongue deep inside her cunt, trying to hook his tongue behind the strawberry to eat it, but it refused to budge, meanwhile all this attention to her cunt was paying dividends. As she rose higher and higher up the erotic ladder, she was very juicy by now, enjoying his attentions to her cunt.

Finally, he began to suck on her cunt, and probe until the strawberry moved, and he gripped it between his teeth. At long last he had it, and pulled it out and ate it.

That was all the stimulation they both needed, and as he chewed on the strawberry, he moved up her body, putting his cock now hard and throbbing against her cunt, and slipped it inside.

"Naughty, condom," she said forcefully, yet not, John withdrew and put the condom on, and then pushed it back into her haven.

He pulled out and back in, long and slow, then began to move faster and faster, until he was ramming it home hard and fast. She was not the lie back type of girl, she moved with him, arching her back and encouraging him to ram his cock home deeper and harder.

The feel as he took and ate the fruit had an extra benefit, it brought her to a high point, all the tonguing of her cunt took her close to her orgasm, and now as John rammed his cock into her hard and fast, she went rigid, arched her back and sighed heavily. She pulled him to her, and kissed him hard on the lips as she climaxed.

John was not done yet; he carried on ramming his cock home, time and time again. She went rigid again, just as he shot his load into the condom, and they came to rest.

"Wow, you are good," she said.

"It takes two to tango. I liked the fruit very much, a novel idea, entertaining, and enjoyable, and from your reactions, satisfying for both of us," John said.

"Very, it brings me to the boil, had you got to it too soon, then I wrap my legs around your head and hold you down there. To bring me to the boil, I want to be satisfied, as well," she said, laughed and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I go back home in a few days, but I will be back," John said.

"Chantal, if you would like me again," she said, and went into the bathroom.

John watched her enter the bathroom and decided to follow her; she was just getting up from the toilet as he entered.

"May I join you, erm, to scrub your back, obviously?" John asked.

"I would have been disappointed, had you not offered," she replied with a cheeky grin.

They showered, and he dried her and she dried him, then they dressed and returned to the lounge area of his suite.

"That is very nice, but fake," she said, looking at the printout of the painting, John was buying.

"It is a little known work by Canaletto, not his usual style," John replied.

"I would never have taken you for a fool. You will be having it authenticated, won't you?" she asked.

"Obviously, I have purchased a few paintings from Colin, and he has always been honest with me. Even so, I do have them authenticated before buying them, why?" John asked.

"Until last month I had a shared flat with an artist, she is struggling, and was made an offer to paint master pieces for display. The actual masterpieces are stored in a bank vault, for insurance purposes. She was painting that one when we were sharing.

The other paintings, you bought from Colin, were they bought before his divorce, or after? My friend painted that, for Colin," Chantal asked John.

"Before, I think, when did he get divorced?" I asked.

"Oh, only a couple of months ago. She didn't take him to the cleaners, she stripped the bones bare. And you know what they say about desperate men, they do desperate things. He now sleeps in the gallery, having lost the house and all his money. He still owes her half of the value of the gallery, and is now struggling. I know he sold a fake, but the new owner does not know yet that his painting is a fake, he was a client, I visited," she told John.

"I see, and you are knowledgeable about these things?" John asked.

"No, I just remember what she painted," Chantal replied.

"There is an envelope on the small table for you," John said.

"Thank you that is very kind," she replied picking up the envelope, she gave John a sweet kiss and left.

John picked up the phone and rang a number, "Hello, Bruce, an 'A,' plus, intelligent, articulate, elegant and very interesting. Hum, I think a second visit, is on the cards," John said when Bruce answered the phone.

"She must be good for you to ask for a second visit. What is that now, just three girls worth a second visit, out of close on one hundred?" Bruce asked.

"I like variety, never more than two visits, a third visit, and they think they have you, and are looking for a wedding dress. I shudder to think about that. What is this I hear about Colin, the art dealer?" John asked.

"Very simple, we have the right idea, fuck them, and forget them. We pay, but not as much as he has, she stripped the bones clean, caught in the act, so I hear," Bruce said.

"He was caught in the act? I didn't think he had it in him," John said.

"I agree, he was too good to be true. I think she set him up, but I can't prove it," Bruce told John.

"Come on Bruce, he has to pull his pants down, doesn't he?" John asked.

"Not what I hear, kinky, the photo had him tied to the bed, and her on top, and his eyes are closed. I think it was staged, just so she could clean him out. Let's face it, a still does not show the action. She could have just been sat on him, without it up her," Bruce said, adding, "Be careful, desperate men do desperate things," Bruce said.

"That is the second time I have heard that," John said, they said their good byes and hung up.

John walked about the suite thinking, secure in the knowledge that his expert would spot the difference, alerting him to any fake, and making sure he got the real one.