© Andyhm. 2022
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 or older.
***I recently found a backup file lurking in a forgotten cloud account. It held an early version of this story and a couple of others I’d shelved, and I began resurrecting them. I’d thought the working notes for this one were lost, but a couple of days ago, I found a doc with an outline of this story. I was surprised at the direction it took, yet I followed the outline, which entailed a fair amount of rewriting. The other thing the outline revealed was I’d intended this to be a relatively long story. A lot of this chapter deals with Kim’s why!. It doesn’t excuse her actions; it just tries to understand them from her perspective. It will help if you have read the first part. This story is a figment of my imagination, and the outcome is also my choice.
I’m sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, after posting the first part, I came down with a nasty chest infection that knocked me for six, and I had no enthusiasm to write for several weeks.
*********Kim:Recap:
She sat there in silence, toying with a glass of wine. A sure indication that something was playing on her mind. When she was ready, I knew she’d broach whatever worried her. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said. “I’m pregnant.”
Two words that should make any husband’s chest swell with manly pride.
“But I’m not sure it’s yours.”
And six more words were destined to tear the heart from that chest. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but not those fatal words that threatened to explode our comfortable world. I sat in stunned silence before standing and walking over to the far side of the patio, staring out across the fields. I struggled to get my head around her last statement, hoping beyond hope that I’d misheard her.
*********Kim: Part 2.
The atmosphere between us was tense for the rest of the evening; Kim desperately wanted to talk. I couldn’t face her; just knowing she’d slept with another man desperately hurt. The thought that she was carrying a child who could be another man’s was soul-destroying. I ended up staying in the spare bedroom that evening; any sleep I got was fitful and broken. I heard Kim open the door several times, but I feigned sleep on each occasion.
When I came down in the morning, Kim was sitting at the kitchen table, and it looked like she hadn’t slept. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks tear-stained.
I made a fresh pot of coffee, aware that she was following my every move. When it was ready, I poured us each a mug. I sat facing her and took a first sip of the bitter brew. The only thing I’d resolved since I’d learned the truth yesterday was that I needed more time to think, and that wouldn’t happen if we were living in the same house.
“So, how do we do this,” I asked. “Shall I be the one to move out, or are you going to?”
“Neither, but if it has to be someone, then it should be me,” Kim said.
“Good,” I said as though that settled it. “Are you ready to explain how this happened and who he is?”
“No, let’s just say it was a big mistake on my part, and it won’t help if I tell you who he is.”
I slammed my hand down on the table hard enough for my mug to shake and a splash of coffee land on the surface. “So I’m supposed to sit here and just accept you could be pregnant with another man’s child, and I’m not supposed to ask questions.”
Kim shrank back in her chair and cowered as I growled, “I don’t fucking think so.” Then I continued in a normal voice, “You don’t get to make that decision for me, Kim. For years you’ve been telling me that our marriage was a partnership, that we have no secrets, and now you drop this ton of shit on me.”
“I know I did, but this is different. It won’t help you to know who it was or why.”
I shook my head in disbelief, “Are you living in a fantasy world? How stupid do you think I am? It might not help, but I fucking well want to know, and you will tell me, or pack your bags and go.” I sat back in my chair and stared at her.
Her anguish was written deep across her face, “I can’t tell you who or why,” she whispered.
“Yet I’m supposed to live with the consequences,” I replied. “Grin and accept it, Ben. Is that what you want?”
She didn’t say anything. She just sat there with tears rolling down her face.
“I meant what I said yesterday,” I reminded her. “I will not bring up another man’s child, don’t even ask. There has to be some way we can find out if this baby is mine or your mysterious lover.”
She gave me the briefest of nods. “I checked; there’s a way I could find out if the baby is yours,” she said. “There is a simple test that can be done in a few weeks; it just needs a blood sample from me and a cheek swab from the father.” She glanced towards the kitchen counter, and I saw a padded envelope that I guessed contained the test kit. “But the problem is that by the time I would have been able to get the results, you would have known I was pregnant.”
And that explains why she’d felt the need to tell me about her pregnancy yesterday. She wouldn’t have been able to keep the pregnancy hidden from me much longer. The window for a safe abortion was closing, and she didn’t know who the father was, so she had run out of options.
“We will do the test as soon as possible, but what will you do if it turns out I’m not the father?”
“We’ll deal with that after we get the results.”
“Like fuck we will. I need to know what you intend to do now.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, and in any case, it’s academic until we know.”
“No, it’s not; if it’s not mine and you decide to keep it, I can’t see how we’ll make it. So you need to make your mind up now.”
Kim looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. She sat there twisting a strand of her blonde hair around her fingers
“So, are you willing to tell me who he is and why you decided to fuck the bastard, or are you planning on leaving?”
She swallowed several, then said, “His name is Michael…Schmidt. But that’s a common surname where he comes from.”
Well, I had a name, and it didn’t matter how common it was; I’d find him. Only I’d noticed the slight hesitation when she’d said his surname. I was under the impression that Schmidt was the German equivalent of Smith. Either she was using the first name that she thought of, or it was his real name. But what I needed to know was why?
“And are you going to tell me why, or is it just what I’ve always suspected, you are trading up.”
She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. All the insecurities I’d thought I’d managed to work past came flooding back, echoing my fear, pain and certainty that Kim had moved on.
It was a good few minutes before she broke the silence. “That would be trading down, not trading up. I told you years ago that you were the only man I would ever love.”
“So what changed,” I said without thinking.
She took a sharp breath. “Nothing has changed; I made a mistake that I regret. I trusted someone I thought was a good friend and ended up in a situation that got out of control.”
“And Michael Schmidt is this friend?”
She looked down at her empty coffee mug and shook her head. “No, the friend was the person who arranged for me to meet Michael one weekend.”
That meant I could narrow down the time and place; she’d only been away for one weekend over the past couple of months. She’d been tasked with assessing and valuing an art collection in Liechtenstein that the owner was considering sending to the auction. That weekend was the only time that all the relevant people were available. Next, I needed to know the name of the friend.
“What type of friend would do that?” I wanted to know.
“Someone who is no longer a friend,” she said bitterly.
“Who is he?”
She hesitated before saying, “I never said it was a male friend, and it doesn’t matter who it was; I will never have anything to do with them again. The sad thing is I thought she was a good friend at…” She stopped speaking with an edgy look.
“I’m sorry that doesn’t wash,” I snapped. But I noticed how careful she’d been to hide any details of the friend and how she’d cut off her last statement. The apparent next word would have been either at university or work, which made me consider that this so-called friend had some degree of influence over Kim.
“You want me to live with the consequences of your actions,” and I shook my head. “Which isn’t going to happen. If this marriage can survive, you need to pinpoint the people I can blame.”
Her face went white, and she struggled to say anything. I wasn’t willing to let it go, nor had I come to any decision about our long-term chances, so I continued. “While thinking about that, you must consider what you will do if the baby isn’t mine.”
She instinctively placed a protective hand over her lower abdomen, and with that simple gesture, I knew our chances of staying together were low. She was committed to having this baby regardless of who the father was. And as much as I loved her, the thought of watching her body grow if the child wasn’t mine was more than I could consider.
I stood up and used the time I took to refill my empty mug with coffee from the pot to consider what I’d say next. But Kim broke into my thoughts.
“I don’t know what I’ll do other than pray that this baby is ours.”
“And what are the chances it is?”
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I found out I was pregnant. I think the odds are stacked in our favour. We’d made love every night that week before I had to travel and again when I got back. Based on my dates, my doctor believes I was probably pregnant before I went away, but she can’t guarantee it.”
“And how many times while you were away?”
She turned her head away, seemingly unable to look at me. “Twice,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I made sure he used a condom the first time; it’s the second time I’m not sure about.”
“Why did you do it? I thought you still loved me.”
“I did, I do. It was nothing you did, and it’s all my fault.”
“So, you say you still love me, yet you went away for a weekend with another man.”
“I didn’t go away with him. It was supposed to be a business trip with a colleague from our restoration team. I didn’t know who we would meet, and before you ask, it was the only time I’d ever met him. I was told that an owner representative would be there while I selected the pieces best suited for auction and valued them. At the same time, my colleague would assess their condition and decide if any restoration was required. Michael introduced himself as the owner’s representative, but that turned out to be a lie; the painting belonged to him and his family.”
“So, how did you manage to end up fucking him.”
It was her turn to stand up and walk around the room. She opened the door to the garden and stood there for several long minutes, looking out, seemingly focused on the dark shadows of the South Downs in the distance. Then her stance firmed, and she appeared to be taller.
“Would you pour me another coffee?” She asked in a manner that compelled compliance. “Then can we sit on the patio, and I’ll try and explain what happened. I’m fighting for us, so I’ll tell you everything I know.” She stepped outside, leaving me sitting at the kitchen table. It was a wise move on her behalf, my temper had been steadily rising, and the pause gave me time to get it under control.
I made a fresh pot of coffee and found a half-opened packet of digestive biscuits in the cupboard, and added them to the tray. I was performing the actions automatically as I pondered my options. Kim now seemed desperate to explain her actions, as if baring her soul to me would prevent me from acting on my threats. And they weren’t idle threats, I was not inclined to bring up someone else’s child, yet I was willing to listen to her.
I joined Kim on the garden bench in the far corner of the patio and placed the tray on a low table. Kim filled our mugs and nibbled on a biscuit before looking at me. “It’s a long and embarrassing story, so hopefully, you’ll let me finish before you throw me out.”
She took a long breath and dived right in. “It all began in my first year at university before I met you. I was experimenting with my sexuality, it was the first time I was living away from home, and I guess I rebelled against my strict upbringing.”
“How is this relevant to the situation we find ourselves in?” I wanted to know, at a loss, why she felt the need to begin her explanation so far in the past.
“It is; just give me a chance to explain,” she insisted. Then she continued, “I decided I wanted to see what it would be like to be a lesbian,” she gave me the briefest of smiles, which I ignored. “It was the ultimate fuck you to my father; he despises lesbians, calling them ‘Rug Munchers.’ I was going to rub it in his face.”
“And did you?” I asked, trying to recall if I’d heard my father-in-law talking about lesbians. And I was also trying to understand how this was supposed to relate to her infidelity.
“What do you mean, tell him, or become one?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I never got up the courage to tell him that I was considering sleeping with women. But yes, I had a couple of affairs with women that year. The first was a girl on my course, but the person I spent most of my time with was Simone, a French artist I met when she hired me to pose for her. I’d told her I was interested in women, and she took me under her wing, and I fell in love with her.”
I tried to remember if I’d ever met Simone, but I came up blank. Kim must have recognised my expression and added, “She was one of the artists in that first class we modelled for, the beautiful brunette who left after the first semester. But by then, our relationship had run its course, and we were just good friends.”
Now a possible face appeared in my memory, “Was she the one I thought looked like an elfin warrior woman from the Lord of the Rings.”
It was her turn to nod. “That was her.”
“I would never have guessed that she and you were lovers,” I said. “I would have sworn you were exclusively dating men at uni.”
“That was my plan; I wasn’t sure if being a lesbian would be long-term. I enjoyed women lovers, but I was still happy to date men, so I was hedging my bets, using dates with the group I hung out with as camouflage, especially Martin. I was sure that anything I said or did with him was ultimately relayed to my father, and I used that. Unfortunately, staying close to Martin came back to bite me. Martin believed my feelings for him were real; that’s why my parents thought I would agree to his proposal.”
We both paused; that event had been the turning point in our relationship that led to cementing our relationship and marriage. Just as this event looked like it was overseeing its demise, I’d agreed to hear her out, so I sat back and nursed my coffee, waiting to see what she said next.
“By then, I’d met you and knew that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but I had the same problem with my father over you. I couldn’t tell him how I felt, or he would have done his damnedest to destroy you. That’s why I kept telling everyone that you were only helping me out with an art project. It was only when you left that I understood how stupid I’d been.”
“I know all this; what’s the point of rehashing it?”
“What I never told you was that the day after that damn meal, I told my parents that I had been lesbian all the last year. Then I told them I had met a man I felt comfortable with, and I was falling in love with him. If they tried to come between us, I’d disown them and tell our family and all their friends I was gay.”
I’d never know that; after Kim had dug me out of my summer funk, she’d taken me to meet her family, and while I wasn’t received like the prodigal son, they had been pleasant enough; now I understood why. But it also raised another question.
“And are you still trying to find your feminine side?”
Kim sat stone-still and looked at me. “Not in that way; I suppose I’m still interested in women,” she told me. “Honestly, I guess if I had ever wanted to have an affair, it probably been with a woman.”
“It looks like you got over that. So I guess you had been thinking about cheating for some time.”
“Damn it, no, that’s not what I meant; you are putting words into my mouth. I’m saying that a woman would have had a better chance of seducing me. Sleeping with other men never interested me. But I didn’t set out to cheat on you, and the whole thing was one big fucking mistake,” she stressed.
“So, where is all this going?”
“Occasionally, I’d meet a woman who ticked most of my boxes, and I’d get that warm fuzzy feeling again, not that I acted on it,” she insisted.
No, you just fucked a man! I thought. “In what way is this relevant to our situation?”
“A year ago, a woman started working at our Zurich office, and she had already ticked all of my boxes a long time ago.”
I interrupted, “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve been having an affair with a woman.”
“No, no,” she said animatedly. “That’s not what I’m saying; it was Simone, my girlfriend from university. She’d returned to France after university and took a position as an art restorer at a museum while painting in her spare time. She’s now in charge of our Zurich restoration department. I was happy to see her again; we’d kept in touch over the years, emails and such, but we hadn’t seen each other for over six years.”
I was struggling with how this related to the pregnancy. “And?”
“She was happy to see me and as friendly as ever; she’s in a serious relationship and introduced me to her girlfriend, Helen. The three of us would go out for dinner and drinks whenever I had to stay in Zurich. I considered both of them to be good friends. I was thinking about inviting them over for a weekend so that you could meet them, that is, until the trip to Lichtenstein.”
“What happened?” I repeated.
“The client had contacted the auction house about selling several selected pieces of his art collection. He’d also requested that Simone should be part of the evaluation team. She was the one that asked my boss for me to be included. My role was to research the provenance of the painting, their authenticity, and because of the location, ensure that none were on the database of Nazi stolen or looted artwork, then come up with a reserve valuation. Simone was to evaluate the physical state of the pieces, as if any restoration was needed, it would affect my valuation.”
“I thought she was being helpful–so when she’d said she’d organised a weekend for us to check over the pieces, we would drive to the site on a Friday afternoon and spend the Saturday evaluating the artwork. If we needed more time, we could use Sunday morning and return to Zurich in the afternoon. I was fine with the idea, and everything sounded above board. I was told that the contact we would meet was called Michael–yes, the same Michael. It turned out that the pair of them were old friends, very close old friends.”
“Simone suggested we use her car. Usually, I don’t like to depend on someone else when I’m travelling, but that time I did, and that became part of the problem. It’s not a long journey, only a couple of hours by road. The art was at an isolated estate, and it looks a bit like a fairytale castle,” she glanced over at me and added softly. “I think you would find the architecture interesting.”
I gave her a grunt, not appreciating her attempt to deflect me.
Kim flinched and then continued. “On the drive, Simone was eager to talk about our time together at university. I knew she’d told her girlfriend that we’d once been lovers, but I’d never discussed my relationship with her; mostly, we talked about mutual friends and, of course, you.”
Kim paused to take a sip from her coffee mug. “It was an unusual conversation; she kept steering it back to our relationship and how much she’d enjoyed our time together. It wasn’t until later that I began thinking she’d been sounding me out. It had been interesting talking about mutual friends and who was still with who from the group we hung out with at university. She wanted to know if I missed female company; I had to keep reminding her that I was happily married. Then she started reminiscing about the time she and I had gone away for a long weekend to Cornwall. We’d been joined by a German student called Kurt, who she’d known from school.”
“When was that?” I wanted to know.
“It was before I got to know you. Simone and I hadn’t been together for long, and she was trying to convince me to come out. I wasn’t sure I was ready, which restricted what we could do in public. The weekend was supposed to be to see how deep our connection was and if I was ready to commit to the relationship.”
“So, why was he there if it was supposed to be a weekend for the girls?”
“Because Simone was keen for our relationship to grow, she wanted me to accept that you could be in a lesbian relationship and still enjoy sex with men, which was one of my issues. I hadn’t been aware she was bi until then. We all ended up sleeping together last night, and I’ll admit it was a lot of fun.”
“What happened to Kurt?” I asked instinctively before realising it was irrelevant; he wasn’t the man she’d betrayed me.
“Oh, he went back to Germany after the weekend, and although the sex was fun, he was a bit of an arrogant arsehole, convinced that he was gods gift to women. I only knew him as Kurt; I never knew his surname.”
I wasn’t sure how much more of this bullshit I could take. I only wanted to know why Kim had decided it was okay to sleep with this Michael character and hammer a fucking great nail through the heart of our marriage. Instead, I was getting a fairytale porn story set in a fairy book castle.
“Where is all this going?” I asked. “Because I’ve just about had enough of this, and you carry on like this. I think you will need to decide where you are going to stay.
“Ben, please let me finish and then, if you still insist, I’ll find somewhere to stay for tonight.”
I shrugged, unsure of what I wanted. I just knew that there was a vast void in my chest, and other than lashing out at the woman sitting beside me, I knew no way to fill it. And I couldn’t imagine ever physically hurting her
Kim took my shrug as acquiescence and continued. “After that weekend, Simone wanted to find another man for us to have fun with, and I wasn’t against the idea. But I told her I wouldn’t consider any of the guys I hung around with. None of them would have been able to resist the temptation to brag, and my father would have heard. After I rejected her suggestions, she told me to think of someone. You were the only one I would even consider.”
I was shocked. “I don’t understand. You never once suggested a threesome to me; Christ, I didn’t even know you were interested in women.”
“That’s because it was more Simone’s idea than mine, and we were no longer a couple by the time I’d found an excuse to get you to go out with me. Then after our first date, I wasn’t going to share you with anyone.”
“Yet it didn’t seem to take her long to convince you to have a threesome with her again.”
“No,” she almost shouted. “That’s not what happened.”
“So what happened then? How did you end up sleeping with this Michael character?”
“I don’t know; it just seemed to happen!”
I sighed exasperated, “That’s not an answer, is it.”
“Just before we got to the estate, Simone told me that the person we would be meeting was an old friend of hers called Michael and that I’d met his brother. I asked her who, and she told me he was Kurt’s older brother. She went on about how she’d slept with both of them. That Michael was the most amazing lover and that she and Helen had shared several enjoyable weekends with him.”
“So you decided to try him out for yourself,” understanding blooming.
She adamantly shook her head, “I know it looks like that, but that was never my intention.”
“But that’s what happened, or we’d never be having this conversation.”
She fell silent at that, obviously considering her following words. “It happened,” she repeated. “And yes, that doesn’t explain why. I assumed she was warning me about her relationship with Michael, so I wouldn’t think she betrayed Helen if I saw her with him. When the trip was first discussed, Simone mentioned staying at a nearby hotel, but she’d accepted an offer for us to stay at the estate.”
I could see where this was going. Suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear chapter and verse on why our marriage had become so fucked up. The compulsion I’d been feeling to know what made her sleep with Michael now seemed so pointless, she’d done it, and we would have to live with the consequences.
“Does any of this matter,” I said bitterly. “You’re pregnant and unsure if it’s mine. You decided to reenact your threesome weekend with Simone and Kurt’s brother.”
Again she raised her voice and said, “No, that was never what was supposed to happen. I thought Simone was a good friend. Yes, one I had a history with, but that was all. When we got to the estate, it was like she had become another person. She greeted Michael with a lover’s hug and kiss and then introduced me as the auction house’s art expert and, in the same breath, her old girlfriend.”
*******Kim. Two months earlier.
Simone jumped out of her car and hurried across to the tall man who waited at the bottom of the steps leading down from the open front door to the building. She laughed happily and hugged the man before giving him a long kiss. “Michael, it’s good to see you again; it’s been too long.” She looked over to Kim, standing by the car, and called her over.
“Kim, I’d like you to meet my dear friend Michael Schmidt; this is his family’s home. Michael, this is Kimberly. An old and very close friend, and also one of the best art experts I know.”
Michael greeted Kim with a two-cheek kiss and said to Simone. “So this is the famous Kimberly my brother has fond memories of.” He spoke perfect English with a hint of a Teutonic accent.
Then he turned back to Kim and said with a smile that she was sure was only paper thin. “I’m pleased to meet you,” his voice deepened, “but I’m afraid you will have to settle for me, as Kurt’s away in America on business.”
Kim felt an icy shiver run down her spine; what had Simone gotten her into? The weekend with Kurt wasn’t something she wanted to rehash, especially with his hunk of an older brother. She gave Simone a sharp look and then spoke sharply to Michael. “I’m only here to advise you which of your paintings you should put up for sale. What happened with Kurt is ancient history, and I’m not interested in discussing it.”
She turned to Simone, anger evident in her words, “What the hell have you been telling him about me?”
Michael interrupted, putting up his hands in a consolatory gesture, “Nothing that I didn’t already know; my brother described that weekend with you as one of the most enjoyable moments in his life. When Simone said she was bringing an expert to check out the paintings, and mentioned your name. I asked her if you were the same Kimberly Kurt had met; when she said yes, I was so pleased, I’d get to meet the woman who stole Kurt’s heart.”
Kim angrily responded; the concerns that had been growing during the drive felt vindicated. “Well, it was nowhere near as memorable for me. Your brother was an arsehole, so are you if you think you will get a weekend threesome.”
Then Kim turned to Simone and hissed, “I don’t know what you were thinking, but this isn’t going to work. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Simone clutched at Kim’s arm, attempting to hold her in place. “Please, Kim, give me a moment to explain. Michael made a stupid assumption; I told him you were happily married.” She glared at Michael, who took a couple of steps back.
Kim pulled away from Simone. “Is this why you insisted we take your car? Trap me here with your boyfriend. You know I can’t stay here.”
Michael interrupted, “It’s not Simone’s fault. It’s the peak of the tourist season, and the local hotels are fully booked. I suggested to Simone that you use the guest house.” He pointed in the direction of a small two-story building set off to the side of the main building.
He continued, “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. I was just pleased to finally get the chance to meet the woman who’d made such an impression on my brother.”
Kim considered her actions and came to the conclusion she’d overreacted. Plus, if she walked away now, she could be putting the sale of the painting at risk and doubted the auction house would be pleased. “No, it’s my fault; Kurt didn’t leave the best of impressions and hearing that he’d been talking about me was upsetting.”
Michael and Simone smiled at her, and Michael replied. “No, I understand what it must have sounded like to you. Let’s get the pair of you settled into your rooms, and then we can meet to discuss the paintings.”
He gestured, and a formally dressed manservant appeared from the building and spoke brusquely to him. “Emil, würden Sie den Damen ihre Zimmer zeigen?”
Then without waiting for an acknowledgement, he turned to the women and said, “Emil will show you to your quarters. Shall we meet in an hour in the library? Simone knows where it is.”
The women agreed, and after Emil had removed the women’s bags, Simone locked her car, and they followed him to the guest house.
The guest house was elegantly furnished, and the women were shown their respective rooms. Kim paused in the entrance lobby and examined the displayed artwork. The majority were good quality but nothing special, the one exception being a landscape prominently displayed on the staircase landing. She recognised the artist Richard Wilson, an early British landscape artist. But not the subject, and she thought it was one of his earlier works. The two women’s rooms were beside each other and shared a bathroom. Kim settled into her room and then sat on the bed, waiting for Simone to come and collect her.
***While she waited, she couldn’t help thinking back to the fun weekend she’d spent with Simone in a rented cottage. The one that Michael’s brother Kurt had gatecrashed. She’d been captivated by the older French woman and anticipated some time together without anyone looking over her shoulder. She recalled how annoyed she’d been when Simone had casually mentioned that the brother of an old college friend of hers would be joining them.
When Kurt arrived a few hours later, Simone greeted him enthusiastically, but Kim initially gave him the cold shoulder. The man was a six-foot blonde-haired Germanic god, and it hadn’t taken long for him to pile on the charm, and she’d begun warming to him.
After a pleasant evening in the local pub, Kim and Simone shared the bedroom and each other, not getting much sleep. Kurt had been relegated to the sofa, which Kim was sure wasn’t what the man had anticipated. The dynamics changed the next day; she’d had one more drink than was prudent at lunch and had gone for a walk to clear her head, leaving Simone and Kurt to tidy up while they talked. Kurt had a habit of speaking in his native German when talking to Simone, a language Kim didn’t understand, and it left her feeling like the odd one out.
She must have walked longer than expected, as it was growing dark when she returned. She’d followed the sound of two people enjoying themselves upstairs and discovered Simone and Kurt naked and enjoying themselves in the bedroom; Kurt’s head was nestled between her girlfriend’s thighs, and the woman’s fingers were intertwined in his long blonde hair. The woman was moaning, her breath coming in short sharp gasps that culminated in a long, drawn cry as she orgasmed and her legs convulsed, squeezing the man’s head.
Kim had watched the pair of them through the half-open door. She’d quickly gotten over her surprise, she had known Simone had a history with the man, and her girlfriend’s obvious enjoyment of the man’s actions was infectious. She pushed the door open and took a hesitant step forward. The floorboards had creaked underfoot and had attracted the couple’s attention.
Kurt had rolled over onto his back when he’d heard Kim enter the room, his perfect cock rising to stand proudly erect from the dark blonde hair at the junction of his legs. It was the largest she’d seen, and her inner slut immediately came to the fore. She felt herself grow wet as she imagined it ravishing her and the pleasure it would give her.
Simone had opened her eyes and smiled at her. She held a hand to Kim and said languidly, “Come and join us, love. Isn’t he perfect?”
Kim hadn’t needed a second invitation. Her dress and panties pooled at her feet, and she crawled up the bed beside Kurt. She hadn’t been able to resist the almost hypnotic motion of Kurt’s cock, and she took the bulbous head into her eager mouth. His salty tang, mingling with the sweet spice of her girlfriend, told her that Kurt had already plundered Simone’s pussy.
Kim couldn’t help; Kurt’s cock was addictive, as were Simone’s lips when she joined her in teasing and licking the erect throbbing flesh. The women alternated kissing each other and the man’s hard cock. Kim felt Kurt’s hand move down her body, and she opened her legs to encourage him to play with her, and he did.
She gasped as his fingers caressed her sensitive nub and lost herself to the sensations he drew from her. Simone added to them as she grasped the opportunity to suckle on Kim’s nipples. Kim struggled to catch her breath, but she knew she wanted more. Rising onto her knees, she swung one leg across Kurt and descended, absorbing his cock into her.
Supporting herself against Simone, the girl rose and fell, meeting the man’s thrusts. Seeking her ultimate absolution from the cock that filled her perfectly. She let the waves of pleasure centred between her legs grow, peek and then grow again until she felt the impaling cock, swell, pulsate, and the warmth of his essence fill her. Kim shuddered, and her pleasure boosted as Simone pinched and tugged on her nipples, swamped her, passing anything she’d ever experienced.
Kim collapsed on Kurt and let him roll her onto her side, his cock sliding from her. She was sandwiched between the other two. She was slick with sweat, and she was still buzzing from her last orgasm. A faint trickle of his cum worked its way down her upper thigh, and she felt Simone collecting some on her finger, then saw her bring the finger to her mouth.
Simone grinned at Kim and licked her lips. “I love this. Kurt’s as good as his brother.”
Kurt challenged her, “Not better. Can he keep two women satisfied like this?”
Simone laughed. “You are only the icing on the cake.” She kissed Kim, then said, “My girlfriend is our main course.”
Kim wasn’t sure how that made her feel. She’d enjoyed the sex with Kurt and wondered who the brother was, but it was the other woman’s attention that she craved. Kurt was fun, but she felt no emotional attachment to him. She pulled away from the man, drawing closer to the woman.
Simone must have sensed the other woman’s disquiet and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. “I’m here for you; Kurt’s just a plaything for us to enjoy and enhance our pleasure.”
Kurt took his plaything role to heart. The three of them fucked again, the women pleasuring each other while Kurt joined in when one or the other wanted his cock, or mouth to add to their pleasure. After a couple of hours, hunger drove them to the local village pub for a meal. That’s where, away from the erotically charged bedroom, Kim’s first impression of Kurt resurfaced.
The man’s condescending attitude to the pub staff and his assumption he expected to spend the rest of the night sharing their bed grated on her nerves. Kim had never enjoyed public demonstrations of affection, and Kurt couldn’t and wouldn’t keep his hands to himself.
After removing Kurt’s hand from her thigh for the umpteenth time, Kim had enough. She forced Simone to join her in the ladies’. “I’m sorry, but either he goes, or I’m off. This was supposed to be our weekend,” she told her girlfriend.
“It is ours; I just thought you would enjoy the extra fun a man would bring it.”
“I did,” Kim admitted, “and I’d be tempted to try it again, but not with him!”
“I agree he’s a bit of an arsehole. It’s a pity his brother wasn’t available,” Simone said. “He’s so much nicer. He was my first lover. Maybe we could find someone we both like back at the university?”
Kim gave a hesitant nod of her head, “That’s fine, but it’s not solving this problem. He’s your friend, so what are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell him he’s sleeping on the sofa, and if he’s not happy, he can fuck off. I’ve had my fun with him; now it’s time for us again,” Simone responded. She followed up her words with a long sensual kiss that left the other woman all hot and bothered.
When the night sleeping arraignments were explained to him, Kurt took umbrage and drove off in a huff. The women spent their last night languidly making love until both were sated and slept until the morning.
***A knock on her door roused Kim from her reflections. Kim got off the bed feeling flustered and flushed, and her panties were damp. The memories of fucking Kurt and Simone had aroused her. She took a couple of deep breaths and called, “One moment, please.”
She went into the bathroom and used cold water to refresh herself. She removed her wet panties and pulled a clean pair from her overnight bag.
Feeling less flustered, she called out, “Come in.” The door opened, and Simone stepped in.
“Are you ready,” the woman asked.
Kim nodded and walked over to her. “Why didn’t you tell me who Michael was before we got here?”
“I told you he was a good friend.”
“But not that he was Kurt’s brother.”
Simone studied the other woman, “I know you two didn’t get on, but I thought you had a good time that weekend?”
“The sex was fun initially, but he was arrogant, and it soon lost its appeal. I honestly thought he expected us to worship his cock.”
Simone laughed and said. “True, but he did know how to use it.” She hugged Kim, and Kim was surprised at how comfortable it felt.
“Why do I think that you are going to tell me that Michael taught him everything,” Kim said a faint smile on her lips.
“I don’t know, but Helen and I have enjoyed a few great nights with him.”
“You still enjoy sharing your girlfriends with men?”
“Well, it does bring an extra zing to the sex, as you should remember.”
Kim did, but she also recalled the last couple of times she’d spent an evening with Simone and Helen. Simone had been full of the joys of life, but Helen had been subdued. She’d thought it was because the woman was jealous of the relationship Kim and Simone had once shared.
Now she wondered if Simone’s habit of introducing men into her relationships had been the issue. That weekend in Cornwall had ultimately soured her relationship with Simone. She mentally shook herself; she needed to get this weekend over, complete the assessment of the paintings, and get home to Ben.
“Shall we get on with what we are here for,” Kim told Simone? “I just want to check out these paintings and then get the hell out of here.”
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?”
Simone coughed in embarrassment. “It was the sofa, not the table. I was sucking his cock, and he had his hand down my panties; I’m surprised you didn’t hear us.”
“So, because you wanted to fuck him, you decided I should as well? What the fuck am I going to tell Ben?”
“Why would you want to tell him anything?”
“Because the bastard didn’t use a condom the last time, and I’m not on the pill, you stupid bitch.”
“I’ll get you a morning-after pill if you are worried.”
“I can’t; I could be pregnant with Ben’s child. We’ve been trying for a baby, and there’s no way I could get rid of his.”
“And if Michael has succeeded, what then?”
“I’m fucked if I know.”
“When did Ben last make love to you?”
“Thursday night, I caught the Friday morning flight to join you.”
“Look, I know Michael used a condom the first time; then he fucked me a couple of times while I ate you out. There was no Cum in you then, and I’d have noticed. So if you are pregnant, it will be Ben’s.”
“He was fucking me when I woke up this morning, and I’m pretty sure he was bareback then.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you stop him?”
“Christ, Simone, I was barely conscious, and I thought it was Ben. It wasn’t until afterwards, when I saw you asleep beside me, I realised my mistake.”
They both fell silent; the only sound was the car speeding along the road.
“Even if he was bareback that last time,” Simone mused. “He can’t have had much left in him. We’d had a long, long session the night before, and I’d sucked him dry before he fucked you. Then he came in me at least twice while I was enjoying you. I sucked him off again after you fell asleep, and while he came, it was just a couple of drops of pre-cum. Did you wash yourself out?”
“Of course I did.”
“Well, then you should be okay.”
*****Present day:
“So you expect me to accept, Simone and Michael set out to seduce you, and you were unable to resist,” I said.
“No, I wanted you to hear why I broke every promise I had ever made to you. I’m not trying to excuse my actions; I should have known better. I never set out to betray you, and it will never happen again.”
“Fine, it’ll never happen again,” I said sarcastically. “But you are ignoring the fact you are pregnant, and it could be his.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’ll take the test as soon as possible. If this baby is yours, then I hope you will accept I never intended to sleep with them; what happened was a drunken mistake, and you will forgive me.”
“And if it’s not, then what?”
Kim said nothing for a long time. I could see her twisting both hands together. Something I’d seen her do when she was under extreme stress. Then she placed one hand on her abdomen while reaching the other out to me. The look in her eyes made me take the proffered hand.
“I’ll call the clinic on Monday and book the paternity test as soon as possible,” she said. “You will need to book an appointment for your sample.”
“Are you getting one from him?”
She sighed, “I don’t need one from him; if it’s not yours, then it would have to be his. He’s the only person I’ve slept with since I met you. I’ve no intention of talking to him ever again.”
“How can you not talk to him? Won’t you have to deal with the sale of his paintings?”
Kim gave me a wry smile and squeezed my hand. “The auction house has decided not to act for Michael’s family after someone hinted that possibly several pieces in the Schmitt art collection were on the Nazi art register. And the provenience of the Renoirs is suspect; at the time his family bought the paintings, the gallery was known to handle forgeries and stolen art. Michael’s business desperately needed a cash injection to survive, and the delay will cause their business to suffer immensely.”
I allowed myself the briefest of grins; even the suggestion that a painting might be Nazi-looted art was enough that no auction house would touch it. And one suspect painting would taint a complete collection.
I refocus my anger back on the woman sitting next to me. I stood up, “Kim, we are just going around in circles and getting nowhere. I will pack a bag and get a hotel room for the next few days to give you some time to decide what you want to do. I’ll take your test, but remember, I will not help you bring up someone else’s child.”
“If it’s yours, then what?”
“Then we will have the child we always wanted, but then the question is, will we have a marriage?
“I made one mistake, Ben. Is there any chance you could forgive me?”
I paused to consider, and it didn’t take long to understand that, given the circumstances, I could. Ever since I’d first met Kim, I’d expected something like this would happen. Only I’d assumed it would have been at her instigation, not the callus seduction of her by two cynical operators. The stumbling block for me was the parentage of the child. If it wasn’t mine and Kim insisted on keeping it, I saw no hope for us. And yes, you can call me shallow, but that’s how I felt.
Kim continued to watch me, finally breaking the silence. “What are you going to do?”
“That depends on what you decide.” I hesitated and added, “I need some time to think; there’s a project in Ireland that has been after me to sort out a few issues. I was supposed to visit the site next month, but this seems the opportune time to go.”
“You can’t just run away; we need to sort this out.”
“You’ve had a couple of months to come to terms with this. Don’t you get it that I need some time as well?”
“How long would you be away for?”
“A week, maybe two, that should give you long enough to get your test done; I’ll leave you my sample before I go.”
With that, I went upstairs to pack and make arrangements for my trip. The contractor was ecstatic to hear that I could be there next week. I was booked on a flight the following afternoon, and the atmosphere in the house was extremely uncomfortable. Kim cooked, but we both barely tasted the meal. When I went to bed, I saw that Kim had left the door to our bedroom open, but I bypassed the invitation to sleep in the guest bedroom for a second night.
When I got up the following day, Kim had gone out. There was a note on the kitchen table that said she’d gone to see her parents. Beside the note was the DNA test kit in a plastic bag. I took the hint and swabbed the inside of my cheek, and placed the kit back on the table.
Kim hadn’t returned by the time I needed to leave. I scribbled my hotel address on the bottom of her note and left.
*******To be continued