The Maestro

by Leo Barton

  'This time however he entered Avril just where his fingers had been. I could not see her eyes from where I was but I can imagine them popping as his thick cock first pushed into her and he rode her savagely. Anyway almost immediately I could see by the jerking and the twitching of her body that she was in the throes of orgasm. Her bottom cheeks clenched around his mighty prick, but even this pressure as I watched Avril try to grip the mat, her hands clenching into fists, a whoop of elation issuing from her mouth, Delgado did not come. This I think he had planned as he withdrew from the writhing girl and entered Veronique in the same way, holding her body flat as he straddled her and pushing his hot meat as far as it would go.

  'Veronique was coming too. She tried to push up, to allow her climax full expression but Delgado kept her pinned to the floor, even as he grunted and came inside her, shooting all his jism up her.

  'When it was all over he turned to me and said that he wanted sketches of what I had just witnessed to be drawn immediately. I was grateful that my ordeal was over. I thought I could escape from the room, go back to my apartment and bring myself the release that Delgado wouldn't permit me. But instead he insisted that I did them then right in front of him.'

  'It was another torture?' Linda asked.

  'A terrible torture, because not only had the pressure built up inside me and it was terrible, but also I had to relive everything that I had just witnessed, but secondly the two girls were still naked in the room.

  'Delgado sat beside them on the mat, stroking them, caressing them gently, asking them if they were all right, asking Avril if she understood what he had meant, asking Veronique if he thought he might have improved her art, and if their relationship would be okay now that this had happened. The two girls nodded and smiled, like two pussycats, agreeing with everything that Delgado said.'

  'This must have made you angry considering how satisfied they were and how you felt.'

  'It did, of course it did, but I realised something else.'

  'What was that?'

  'The sheer power of the man. I wouldn't even call him a man. There is something totally demonic about him, not only the way that he can control people like me. I'm young and I suppose more susceptible to that kind of thing, but I look at strong women like you and Veronique and I see how you all fall under his spell. There is a terrible power about him. You think he uses it to create, but if he ever used it to destroy then that would be frightening.'

  'But so far he hasn't.'

  'Not yet, or at least not as far as we know,' Rebecca said ominously.

  'Is that why you are running away?'

  'Yes. I want to go back to my nice little English life with my boyfriend and get a nice little middle-class job. You're right, he has opened my perception to things but it frightens me.'

  'Do you still have the sketches?'

  'Yes, would you like to see them? My flat is only two minutes' walk.'

  'I'd love too.' Linda had been aroused by the tale. The thought of going back to Rebecca's flat was very enticing. One last great adventure for the girl before returning to the Home Counties.

  After Linda had paid the bill they made their way up the steep incline away from the sea and towards Rebecca's apartment. As they stopped at the traffic lights, Rebecca turned to Linda. You know I don't think your time on piso tercero is going to be so long. He's getting very pally with Veronique.'

  The thought stung Linda as it had done earlier when Rebecca had mentioned the Swiss girl before her. She shouldn't be so surprised, she told herself. It was another trick, another little bit of scheming by Delgado, that ability in whatever way to make everybody he came into contact with, feel special. But maybe it didn't matter. She was more confident about her art than she had ever been in her life, and grateful to Delgado though she was, she knew her own artist future lay firmly in her own hands now.

  Back in the flat, Rebecca showed her the sketches. She saw the beautiful Avril tethered to the chair; she saw Veronique licking the bound girl, and then standing up as the figure of Delgado removed her clothes. She saw the girls lying prone on the mat. She remembered the story that Rebecca had told her vividly as she could recall her own experience with the maestro. She remembered how Rebecca had turned her on that day, and she turned to her, wanting to taste her, to touch her, to bring her to the orgasm that she never had watching the two French girls. She turned to where she had flopped onto the bed behind her, but found she had fallen asleep.

  Chapter 10

  A couple of days later, Delgado called at the same time he usually did. They talked about the progress she had made with her work since the last time he had seen her. He was even more complimentary than he usually was, telling her that he was getting a clear idea of what she was attempting to do, and that more importantly, so was she.

  Thinking that they would go out for their usual bottle or two of wine, she went to change from her work clothes.

  'I can't go tonight, Linda.'

  'No?'

  'I have another engagement.'

  'Fine.'

  'Linda, I have a proposition for you.'

  'Yes?'

  'I can see how you have incorporated the colours of my country into your paintings, into your very ideas, but there are other colours.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'I thought you might like to look at some different scenery.'

  'Where?'

  'I have a little place a hundred or so kilometres inland, past Poblet. It's beautiful hilly countryside and it's much cooler than here. You will be totally alone there but I think that could only benefit your paintings. There is a time to live and to pour your life into your work but there is also a time when life itself almost becomes a distraction from your art. Do you understand?'

  She understood perfectly well. She was being banished to the countryside because Delgado wanted to install his new protégé in there. She didn't say any of this, however, thinking that maybe Delgado was right, that a retreat into the peace and cool of the countryside might be exactly what she needed at this stage. In a month she thought that she would probably be ready to show. She needed at least a month.

  'How long for?'

  'For as long as you want, as long as it takes. I don't want you to come back here until you can fill a gallery with your paintings. When you think you are ready call me, and I'll contact some friends and we'll see about getting you an exhibition. I don't think it will be so hard.'

  And so she was packed off into the interior of Catalunya. The place was quite large, but with no electricity, and it was as remote as Delgado had implied. The nearest village was some seven kilometres away. She would go there in the evening after the sun went down. She didn't want to waste any natural light. But there was no shortage of artist's materials. Delgado seemed to have purposely left some gigantic canvasses for her.

  At first she enjoyed the peace and the calm of the area and she certainly appreciated the cool of the higher land. There was most definitely a spiritual atmosphere about the place, and when she wasn't working she liked to go for strolls around the hills outside her wood cabin.

  She threw herself into her painting, finding it was actually easier for her to achieve the affects that she wished without going through the agonised struggle that she had gone through when she had still been staying above Delgado's studio.

  But it was a call from Sebastian - the one luxury she had retained was her mobile phone - which started to unsettle her. After getting the message from Alfonso not to contact him, she had decided she would wait to see if he contacted her. He was effusive in his apologies, explaining that the crazy film director they were with had insisted that they go and live in the jungle for two weeks to discuss the film they were about to make, and they had not been allowed to call anyone.

  She listened to everything he said carefully. The jokey charm was still there, making her feel a deep nostalgia for their life in London that seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. For the first time since she had begun working in Delgado'
s studio she started to have serious doubts about what she was doing and her love for Sebastian. She noticed a certain forced artificiality in his voice and even the declarations of love he effusively gave her, no longer meant the same to her, and she wondered whether they did to Sebastian. Her life, she knew had changed irrevocably.

  She also made another exception to her self-imposed exile, and that was to contact Alfonso. He was now back in Barcelona, although he was going to be off to New York to see some clients. He wanted to come to see her, but she said it was impossible. He sounded disappointed. He told her he had at least three galleries waiting to see her work. He said he had really been singing her praises, and that as soon as she had enough for an exhibition she should show him her work.

  With immense effort and dedication she finished twenty-five canvases in three weeks. The day after all her work was complete she did nothing but rest in bed, her limbs ached with the sheer physical exertion of painting and she felt emotionally and intellectually drained, but she had never been more proud of anything she had done in her life.

  The next day she contacted Alfonso, but he was in Frankfurt. However he arranged for a van to be sent to collect her and the paintings. She was so grateful: now that her present work was complete she wanted to get back to the city she loved as soon as possible.

  The paintings were to be stored at Alfonso's. She couldn't very well go back and expect Delgado to put her up again so she booked into the same hotel she had done when she first arrived in Barcelona.

  She rang Maria, but she could not reach her. She thought about calling Delgado, but something held her back. She thought it best to wait. Strangely the person she had dreamt about most during the last couple of days, at least sexually, had not been Delgado at all, but Suzanne.

  She remembered a very daring plan she had first thought about as she and Alfonso had left the bar that night.

  Alfonso had told her one interesting piece of gossip about Paco and Suzanne, something that she had harboured in her mind for a long time. Whenever she thought about it, it made her feel wicked. Alfonso told her that on Tuesday nights Suzanne took a class in bookkeeping. Suzanne had told Alfonso that she knew that as soon as she had gone out the door, Paco would shut up the bar and go upstairs and watch television, even though when he went out to watch the football he would forbid her to do the same thing.

  In theory it wouldn't be a difficult thing to do as Alfonso had even told her what college she studied at; in practice there were all sorts of things that could go wrong. Still, she would try.

  This was why after showering and putting on her sexiest underwear and a beautiful white satin dress with thin shoulder straps, that fell to just below her knees, and adorning the ensemble with a necklace of pearls, she was hiding in a doorway, waiting for Suzanne to leave. She knew that if Paco was as prompt as Alfonso had indicated she would only have a minute.

  Her heart raced as she stood, frightened that Suzanne might see her, frightened in case the bar closed before she could enter. And there was Suzanne dressed in a bright scarlet skirt and a white satin blouse. Maybe there was somebody in her bookkeeping class that she wanted to start an affair with.

  As soon as she had walked ten paces in the opposite direction, Linda crept into the bar. Paco was already walking towards the door, and Linda suspected was just about to tell her that the bar was closed, when he noticed how beautiful she looked.

  His eyes roved around her body, taking in the delectable curves of her breasts, the rounded hips, the nape of her neck, and the ash-blond shoulder length hair.

  'Yes madam,' he said trying to impress her with his English. Maybe he had recognised her from that time Alfonso had brought her in, or maybe she just looked so obviously English. 'You like to take a drink?'

  'Yes please,' she said, her eyes beaming at the barman. She sat on a round black leather bar stool, brazenly hitching up her skirt a couple of inches so that Paco could get a meaty view of her legs over the granite-topped bar.

  'What would you like?' he said, pleased with knowing he was using the correct English.

  'A gin tonic please.'

  'Certainly.' There was something quite oleaginous about the man. His thick chest and the hard callused hands bespoke of a powerful sexuality, but in the same way as Delgado, something repulsed her about him, but the repulsion somehow added to his sexual appeal. The gusset of her panties was already wet.

  He placed a glass along the table, a quarter full of ice and poured a large measure of gin inside it.

  'I'm so hot,' she said sexily, watching a perceptible eyebrow raise.

  'Yes, is very hot in... verano,' said Paco, struggling to find the correct English word.

  'Summer.'

  'Si, summer.' She liked his square jaw, imagined him going down on her, licking her clitoris, or tongue fucking her.

  She hitched up her skirt so that Paco could glimpse the smallest edge of her white lace panties in the triangle of shadow her dress cast onto her thighs.

  She knew how quick she had to be. She reached up and touched the sweaty palm of his hand.

  'You have such strong hands.'

  'Gracias senora,' he said relapsing into Spanish, shocked by having such a beautiful woman compliment him.

  Linda noted his surprise as she gazed into his eyes, thinking what a stupid man he was when he had such a fantastic looking wife.

  'Are you alone?' she mischievously asked him.

  'Yes I am alone.'

  'Mmm.' She felt as if she was in some bad pornographic film. There was nothing sophisticated about this erotic game, no battle of wills, nothing. Anyway, she figured that a macho man as Paco would appreciate such an obvious approach.

  She moved her fingers away from his hand and placed them on the meat of her thigh.

  'Would you like to see me?' she said, raising her skirt above her white panties. 'I'm very wet... very, very wet.'

  Paco gulped at the prospect as he watched Linda run her hand over the white lace. There was a moment's hesitation as Paco looked at her completely stunned. This was exactly what happened in pornographic movies, but never as far as he knew in real life.

  'Well,' Linda asked, 'do you want me?' She thought for a moment that as he gulped again he was considering asking her to get out. He walked around the bar, past her without looking in her direction, put the latch on the door, turned the closed sign round, and for good measure pulled down the blind of the window.

  'We go upstairs.'

  She wasn't sure whether it was a command, a request or a question, but she nodded, then slipped off her stool.

  'There,' Paco said, pointing in the direction of the door marked privado that she could vividly remember.

  She was loving every moment of the game. They would have ten minutes at least now. As she walked up the stairs she lifted her dress up to her waist, giving Paco a glimpse of her white lace panties hugging the curves of her voluptuous bottom, and the sheen of her white silk stockings.

  'There,' Paco repeated, this time pointing towards the bedroom.

  'No, here.' She didn't want to go into the bedroom. She knew what she was doing.

  Paco stood dazed in his dream, incredulous that such a miraculous thing should be happening to him. Linda knelt down on the parquet floor and began to loosen his belt, and then his zip, sneaking her hand through the flap of his briefs and pulling from it his already throbbing tool.

  It was a good length. Suzanne had never complained about the size before, only Paco's longevity. It was vital also that he did not come too soon. She held him in her hands. She licked him slowly from the base of his shaft to the fat helmet, flicking her tongue all along the swollen ridge. Paco was breathing heavily as she took his cock into her mouth, tasting the salty head, then sucking hard on it, sliding it in further and further. Paco looked down appreciatively on his tumescent tool as it disappeared into the English girl's mouth.

  He uttered some Spanish imprecation as Linda began to bob up and down on him, feeling his swollen balls t
hrough the stretched flap of his briefs and then sneaking her hand behind, pressing first on the meat of his backside, before jabbing her finger hard into anus.

  Whatever other reservations she had about Paco, she loved his cock. She loved the idea of it sliding into her quim. It was long and sturdy, and the purple head was so wet inside her mouth. She pushed it against the inside of her cheek, as if it was some curiously shaped fruit.

  'Oh yes,' she moaned seductively, pulling him out of her mouth before she pumped her ruby lips back onto the glistening dome; the moan was more for Paco's benefit than hers. She was excited enough, but she was still imitating the girls she had once watched in a pornographic video that Sebastian had brought home for their amusement.

  She felt him twitch inside her. She was worried he was going to come, so she pulled off him again, then turning her back on him kneeled on the coffee table, arching up her backside, then lifting her skirt so that Paco could glimpse her rotund buttocks in her patterned white lace panties.

  He wasn't so unsophisticated. She had thought that he might try to deposit his cock inside her, before exploring her with his hands. First she felt him bunch up the material of her panties in his hand and pull tight, so that the slim gusset rubbed against her sex lips and the sheathed protuberance of her clitoris. 'Oh,' she moaned again, wriggling her bottom for Paco's delectation.

  His hand slipped under the lace and she could feel him lightly touching her bum cheeks, and then more audaciously, sneaking his finger along the trail that stretched from her anus to the bottom of her labial lips. His fingers went further. Linda felt him slide one into the wet heat of her sex. Another finger followed and he started to finger fuck her. Linda jerked down on his fingers for full effect, trying to impale herself on them.

  She felt his hot cock slithering along the top of her buttocks. She did not want him in there yet.

  'Wait! Espera!' she repeated in Spanish to make sure that he understood. 'Tu lengua,' Linda said, turning around and pointing to her tongue so that he could understand exactly what she wanted him to do.