Chapter 6: Bethany

As Saturday was a free day for most people it was usually a pretty busy one for me.

I sold a few cameras as birthday presents and had a number of customers picking up their prints. Some wanted me to make a photo book of their snaps, which I loved to do, so by five o’clock, when I closed the shop, I was knackered.

I had two hours to pick up Bethany for dinner, so I dropped into an easy chair and promptly fell asleep. At 6:15 I woke up and realized I still had to clean myself up and get dressed. Quickly jumping under the shower I shaved upstairs and also downstairs, one never knows if one gets lucky.

From my working days, I still had an impressive collection of suits, shirts, and especially ties. I had always made it a point never to wear the same tie two days in a row. I had about three hundred different ones, so that proved to be the most difficult part of getting dressed. I couldn’t wear a tie with a cartoon figure, I had to project the image of a business-like person, so I choose a flowery one, which matched the color of the light blue shirt I had chosen. Finally, at ten to seven, I was ready to pick up Bethany.

Arriving at her door I rang the bell; she opened it virtually immediately as if she had been waiting behind it.

“Hey Lew, come in I’m almost ready.”

Clearly, a ruse as she already looked dressed up to the nines; she probably wanted me to see the interior of her house, and I was duly impressed.

“Wow Bethany, you have a very beautiful house!”

Bethany had some nice paintings on her walls, clearly, she was a collector; they were however all in the same style, from her favorite painter perhaps?

Taking the risk I ventured, “Are these beautiful paintings from a painter you’re a fan of?”

“I painted them myself!” she proudly announced.

“Really Bethany, I never knew you were so talented. Have you ever exhibited your artwork?”

“No, I don’t think they are good enough for an exhibition.”

“Please Bethany allow me to totally disagree with you, your work absolutely merits being seen by a larger number of people.”

“You’re just flattering me, Lew.”

“No, not at all. I would gladly put some of them up in my shop to convince you!”

“Would you? ... You really think they’re OK?”

“Bethany they are more than OK, I think you could sell quite a lot of them if you wanted to. But let’s first get some nice food and a good glass of wine into you, then maybe I will be able to convince you to pursue this painting career of yours further.”

By this time I had had plenty of opportunity to take a good look at Bethany. She wore a very nice, and what looked like an expensive, cream-colored silk blouse, with the top three buttons undone showing a nice plunging neckline, a hint of the collarbone, and cleavage decorated with a pearl necklace to match her pearl earrings. When looking closer I discerned a cream-colored lace bra encasing her ample bosom. I guessed, as you know by now, I love to guess at a woman’s boob size, was somewhere between a C and a D.

The lower part of her beautiful body was encased in a black pencil skirt ending about halfway down her rather shapely calves. It accentuated her nicely rounded buttocks. On her feet, she was wearing black shoes with about 10 cm (4 inch) heels which brought her almost even in height with me. It being a nice warm summer evening, she didn’t need to wear anything else to keep herself warm.

“With the way you look, Bethany, I guess that when we walk into The Deerhunter you will make some heads turn.”

“Nooo, never, you are just flattering me!”

“You’ll see, mark my words!”

We walked to my car and I held the passenger door open for her.

I was absolutely right about making some heads turn when we walked into the restaurant. I could almost hear the rumor mill starting to turn at full speed. We were led to exactly the same table Astrid and I had shared a few days before. It was not the same waitress though, this one was a pretty young girl who reminded me of Catharina so many years ago. The same black hair, piercing eyes, and an hourglass figure to drool over. I made a mental note, who knows, maybe one day I could entice her to strip in front of my camera.

“Stop daydreaming Lew, you are here with a mature woman called Bethany whom you want to convince to help Linda with her career at no charge.”

The food was excellent, as expected. Funny enough talking about food and trying to find some good things on the menu we found out that we were both fans of escargots Bourguignonne, snails in a garlic butter sauce, murder on your cholesterol but oh so delicious. There was of course the risk of breathing garlic over your companion, but hey if you both had it, it wouldn’t matter now would it?

We had a few glasses of a very nice white Burgundy with that. Following on from the glass of champagne we had had as an aperitif, Bethany was already in a very pleasant, secret revealing mood. It seemed that apparently, for one or other mysterious reason, and like other women in this village she was on a dry spell. She didn’t say it directly in those words, but that was clearly what she hinted at, making me conclude that most probably dinner would be followed by another more physical performance from my side. Maybe I should have taken oysters instead of snails?

Anyway, as the main course, we both had lamb, again more garlic, so I guess our breath would be stinking of garlic a mile off, but who cares, we had no problem with it.

We washed the lamb down with a nice bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin, my favorite red Burgundy, and again also Bethany’s.

As dessert I had my all-time favorite “Dame Blanche”, vanilla ice cream topped with real chocolate sauce and whipped cream; the chef made the sauce as it should be made with top-of-the-bill Belgian chocolate. Bethany followed suit; we were really very well matched where food and drink were concerned, and I started wondering if we would be as well matched in other fields as well.

“Shall we finish with coffee?” I asked.

“Yes,” Bethany said, “but why don’t we go back to my place, it’s so much cozier, quiet, and more comfortable than here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely, I fully agree and I will be able to admire your paintings even more.”

As Bethany walked into her place, the first thing she did was take off her shoes.

“I do like wearing high heels, but since I wear flats the whole week in the shop, after a while my feet and legs really start to hurt.”

“Hey Bethany make yourself at home,” I joked.

“Uh ... oh yes,” she said followed by a chuckle, “I might do just that! Take the weight off, and make yourself comfortable while I turn on the coffee maker. You take milk and sugar?” she asked from the kitchen.

“Only milk Bethany, I have to watch my figure!”

“Yeah you would,” she chuckled, “you know that you look great for your age Lew what are you around seventy, or was it eighty?”

“Hey, thanks I guess if I’m seventy that makes you definitely sixty.”

“I do know your exact age, Lew!”

“So do I yours, Bethany, clearly there are no secrets in this village.”

“Good, then you realize that we are perfectly compatible, as we are on the food side.”

When Bethany came in from the kitchen with the cups of coffee, she had undone two more buttons of her blouse, revealing a big portion of her cream-colored lace bra. She was clearly and deliberately showing a serious amount of very enjoyable cleavage. As she bent to hand me my cup of coffee I got a good eyeful of her boobs.

“Lord Bethany you are making me all hungry again!”

“Am I now Lew and prey what could I offer you to nibble on?”

“Would it be forward of me if I choose one of these two beautiful mounds I just had a glimpse of?”

“You mean one of these old things?” Bethany said as she pulled one boob out of her bra.

“Definitely, but be aware that I always go for seconds once I start.”

“Seconds hey, where would I get a second one of these? Oh yes, here it is!” as she popped out the second one.

“But, they look so restrained; please allow me to assist you to make them more comfortable.”

I started to undo the remaining buttons of her blouse, sliding it off of her shoulders and removing it completely. When the blouse had gone Bethany unfasted her bra, liberating her twin mounds. She gave them a little shake: they were definitely size D.

“Wow, Bethany these look even more appetizing than what we had for dinner!”

“Allow me to pay my respects to them,” I said after which I flicked my tongue over the nearest nipple I could lay my hands and mouth on. While sucking on that one I started to stroke the other with featherlight fingers making Bethany shiver. She took a hold of my head with both her hands and pressed it down on the boob I was feeding on, making ever-so-light sighs.

“Yes suck it, suck it hard please, it’s been so long since a man paid tribute to my breasts.”

My other hand had moved to her back starting at her shoulders and slowly moving down towards her bottom slipping into the waistband of her skirt just touching the top of her crack. As my hand rather quickly started to hurt I retreated and started to fumble with the zipper of her skirt. She felt my clumsiness and got up to undo it herself letting the skirt fall to the ground. She kicked it away and stood in front of me clad only in her cream-colored lace panties, her crotch right in front of my face. Not a hint of pubic hair in sight. I grabbed the elastic with both hands and pulled her panties down to her knees, she had indeed a nicely waxed pussy: clearly, Bethany was a very good customer of her own beauty parlor. I buried my face in her pubes.