The Freiburg Project
Copyright© 2007 by Robin Pentecost
Chapter 9
Mystery Sex Story: Chapter 9 - A young, successful architect, who lives in a nudist village in the south of France, pulls her life together after her husband's suicide. She wins a major project and things begin to happen. (Mystery/Thriller, no explicit sex)
Caution: This Mystery Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Romantic
On her last morning in London, Helen awakened feeling strangely disoriented. The feeling stayed with her through her morning meeting with Rummy, and she decided to refuse his offer of lunch. Instead, she took the tube to South Kensington, walked the few blocks to Cromwell Road and had lunch at the restaurant in the V&A. The food was good there, and she could find a quiet corner.
Eating her salad, a man's voice interrupted her wandering thoughts.
"May I sit here?" he asked.
"Of course," Helen replied. He was round and well dressed, not unattractive and, thankfully, quiet and pleasant. They ate without much conversation. Helen sipped her wine and began to realize what was bothering her. She had planned on a night or two of pleasure with Johannes in Geneva, and they'd gone up in smoke. Then several more days in London, where she had no one to do more than talk to. She recognized the problem. 'I'm horny, ' she told herself. 'It hasn't been this bad in a long time.' Thinking of Johannes with regret, she went on in her mind, 'Guess I'll have to learn to deal with it.'
She bade a friendly goodbye to her table partner and went out onto Exhibition Road near the museum's side entrance. The day was warm for late April, although the sky was largely filled with fluffy clouds. She leaned against a tree and searched her telephone's directory for the number in Paris.
She had called René yesterday to arrange a brief meeting for this evening. When René answered her call, she said, "It's me. What's the chance of having dinner tonight?"
"Dinner, as in Dinner, or Dinner and... ?"
"I'd like to go for the and if you can manage it."
"Tell you what, Helen, meet me at the Hotel Quai Voltaire. We'll have the night."
"Great! You know I love that place. Get a front room so we can watch the Bateaux Mouches. What time?"
"When will you arrive?" Helen gave him an estimate. "I'll be there by then. See you."
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